finally, pictures!

view while walking to school, the corner of

boulevard de la tour-maubourg and rue st. dominique

Sunday: it was absolutely beautiful today, so after sending the latest e-mail to everyone, i decided to study out on l'esplanade d'hotel des invalides. there i was, sitting in the grass, reading descartes when two guys came along playing football (known in the states as "soccer"). "uh, oh," i thought, "this might be dangerous for me or for them." needless to say, they eventually took their game elsewhere after running over a man laying in the sun and almost hitting me with the ball (i never said a word; i merely looked at them from behind my sunglasses). then, a couple tromped past me to sit and started screaming out to their friends in hindi. this time, i moved, but they were so loud that i returned home to study. it really doesn't matter, because this is the view from my desk, which i find charming and lovely. (by the way, you do realize, i hope, that i am writing right now to procrastinate, don't you? i'll get back to rené in a few minutes; there's just so much to him that my head is about to explode and i needed to get the artichoke started, since it's huge.)

the "hair pants" (air france) building on the esplanade of

les invalides

hotel des invalides, the final home of my famous neighbor, napoleon, taken from where i was almost hit with a soccer ball

i refer to this as "my bridge" because it is pont alexandre (my

middle name is alexandra)

THIS is my building, and it's a lot nicer inside than out

the recycling here is out of this world; we recycle everything, and the recycling bins are twice as large (and there are four times as many) as the rubbish bins. saran wrap? recyclable, as is aluminum foil. all plastic bags are recyclable. it's really fantastic. i have some professors who are so into not using paper that everything is done online, which is perfectly fine with me. and yet, the school does not recycle. that, of course, will be changing while i am here, and i've already made that known in the admissions office.

i just read today that quite a few buildings in paris have rooftop beehives. isn't that great? they're trying to combat the problem of the disappearing bees by using the roofs of public buildings. of course, anytime one is outside eating, bees help consume lunch, but it's worth it, isn't it? now that i know this, i really need to get a bee epi pen. if i manage to survive the peanuts and the bees, it will be spectacular.

Still Sunday: as i'm sitting in my room reading descartes (still!) with the window open, i could hear the sounds of dinner conversations, flatware touching plates, and someone practicing a jazz piece on a piano. marvelous.

the view from my desk

my new plant

I think my neighbor might be dead, and he is (or was) really cute. he disappeared around the same time the hallway started to smell like what i've been told is a dead person (the only dead bodies i have been around were embalmed, and as those smell like formaldehyde, they aren't helping), i am genuinely concerned. i told my landlady (madame fusco, who is like a pocket grandma with fabulous shoes) yesterday (saturday), and she suggested i knock on the door, explaining who i am. i didn't have the heart (or the french vocabulary) to point out just why that wouldn't work: if he is dead, he wouldn't answer; if he's a zombie, i wouldn't want to disturb him because he would eat my brain, thereby adding the smell of my own decomposing flesh to the hall. madame did tell me that his father lives in the building and that she would have him look in on him (thereby saving my brain from the potential zombie). yes, yes, i know, there's probably no such thing as zombies but, really, do any of us really know? and i probably scream with an american accent, so no one would understand that i was in danger; i need a local to take care of this.

Monday: while discussing descartes, my professor mentioned zombies. see, even descartes knew they may exist. ok, i just got an assignment asking that i research whether cartesian thought on dualism justifies the possibility of a zombie, or a body without a mind. isn't this hysterical? i'd never even written the word before yesterday, so now i really should not knock on that door! oh, and the hallway stinks again (of zombies?).

until the next one....

invitation to a fashion show

On Monday, I started my work/study job in the admissions office. On Tuesday, I met the person who is in charge of the student workers (it must be Tuesday). Everyone else is perfectly lovely. As a matter of fact, on my first day, one of my coworkers in the office invited me to a fashion show at UNESCO. How cool is that? It should be a lot of fun. Of course, I have to build a model of the American first floor of one of the buildings, read, attend clubs night, and sign up to run for a position also. Ah, the live of a student.

So, I finally got a phone, and I have free calls to landlines in the United States (and Paris, but as none of you are in Paris, I am sure that does not matter to you). Do you all remember the state of my phone before I left Chicago (i.e., a non-working 4, a call button that only worked when I breathed correctly, and no ability to send text, although it would confirm said texts)? Well, I now have a Blackberry, which will heretofore be known as the gooseberry, cloudberry, crackberry, boysenberry, razzleberry, or any other name of that ilk. They give them away free here with a plan. Isn't that hysterical? The problem is, I don't yet know how to use it, so I am like a monkey with a computer. As others "oohed" and "aahed" over the fact that I got it for free, I was still trying to figure out how to change the darn ring tone. Meanwhile, thank goodness for those coveting students, as they have shown me how to set everything on it.

Today I purchased a plant for my room, a pink (does THAT surprise anyone) begonia that I shall attempt to keep alive through the winter (hey, I kept a basil plant alive through last year, so this might just work). It's lovely on my windowsill.

As I have two burners and no oven, I also purchased my first roasted chicken today. An interesting difference I've noticed between chickens here and there: French chickens have longer legs and thighs than their American counterparts and smaller breasts. By the way, the flavor is really, really wonderful.

The fashion show was beautiful; the designer is an Iraqui designer who creates lovely pieces that were so beautiful, I wanted to cry. Her head pieces were just exquisite, and the embroidery and hand work on the clothes were like something out of Arabian Nights. I feel so lucky to have been invited by a colleague, and admissions counselor who has taken me under her wing. While sitting at the fashion show, it came to me that we could do that for the school, and she and I immediately started planning one for the Spring. For this first year, we've decided to make it a show that includes contemporary designs from all over the world, but when I plan the one for next fall, we will focus on one region of the world, rotating that every semester. The thing I love about the university is that everyone is encouraged to follow their dreams and given assistance in doing so. When I told my adviser that the Grande École for art history is not the Sorbonne but, rather, the Louvre, he didn't look at me as if I was crazy, but rather suggested we look at what its requirements are and do more (including studying computer programming (which i am doing), as it is the wave of the future for museums). I really do love it here. I hope to eventually be like the Don Hewitt of the Louvre.

As I was sitting at the fashion show, I thought to myself, "Wow, look at my life in Paris!"

Meanwhile, I was forced to not attend a class this week, much to my disappointment. In spite of me informing the class that I was deathly allergic to peanuts and could not be in the same room as them without having a negative reaction, I was sitting in class with the same students on Tuesday afternoon and smelled peanuts. I immediately asked, "Is someone eating a peanut product?" to which a fellow student responded, "Well, it's only a peanut butter sandwich. Does that count? Is it okay?" 

"This is not okay," I responded while running out of the class. I waited outside the class in order to tell the professor what happened (without revealing any names) and that I could not attend class that day. (There was also a huge party that night at Regine's which I could not attend because of the incident.) I was so angry because my choosing to skip a class was one thing, but my inability to attend a class because of someone's stupidity is another thing in that my parents are not paying for this, I am. (By the way, the peanut-eater has yet to apologize.) I'm starting to wonder if this school allows developmentally disabled teenagers to attend.

Have I mentioned that neither my flat iron nor the camera seem to be working with the converter? You can only imagine my hair, and that is the reason for no photos, although, with the new cloudberry, there is no excuse for the photos.

By the way, two weeks into the semester and I feel behind already! I'm spending this weekend catching up on the oodles of reading I need to do. This is absolutely crazy - I have a paper to write for Tuesday, a project on Descartes to decipher for Monday, and exercises done for computer programming. Isn't it grand?

I discovered Thursday night that I am going to re-start the university's knitting club; i've also decided to run for the position of art history rep with the student senate. Does anyone think I'm doing too much (tee hee hee)?

Until the next installment of this crazy little thing called life....

am i blue?

 

hello, everyone.

first, let me reiterate that i am not at all sad, but i made a rookie mistake and managed to turn most of a load of laundry blue.  albeit, a lovely shade of ice creamy pastel blue, but my new white tee shirts are now blue.  aargh!  (does anyone know how to reverse this mistake?)

the first week of school was glorious.  i adore all of my professors, and the classes are fantastic.  i will be able to go to the louvre six times this semester.  [*sigh*]  isn't life grand?  the school is located between les invalides (where napoleon is buried and also down the esplanade from my apartment) and the eiffel tower, so every morning as i walk to my first class, the tower looms in the distance.  how can you not have a fantastic day with that daily view?  my art history class is in the building on bosquet that has cherubs carved into the ceilings and doors of the classrooms.  (had it been any other class than art history, my mind would have drifted to the exquisite architecture.)  simply amazing.

here are things i love about paris:  shopping daily at the outdoor market for very fresh produce; cheese shops that find out what time you will serve your cheese and then squeeze each one until they find the one that will be perfect at that time; watching an older woman stand outside of a building gossiping with her friend inside the building; the hot chocolate at angelina's, cafè de flore, and les deux magots (i prefer it in the last two cafés); the caipiriñhas at le fumoir, although their mojitos leave much to be desired; the yarn shop around the corner from school that sells bouton d'or yarn; the buses that make a trolley car bell sound as they approach the stop (the first time i heard it i did a double-take); how polite men are here (except for the one i met who bickers with me like cary grant did with rosalind russell in his girl friday (he started it), and who better not be the famous movie person his friend said he is or else i will be furious because i have absolutely no time to deal with an ego like that); how ham sandwiches are ham and butter instead of ham and mayonnaise; financiers, simply the best cookie in the world, and i've never found one stateside; speaking french; the cute, inexpensive clothes over here; the fabulous boots; place saint germain; my adorable landlady (she's like a pocket granny); that i have seen more men knitting than women (2-0 (unless i include myself, but the boys still win)); kissing everyone hello; 2-litre bottles of water for 0.19 euro; the phones that do so much that i might marry one, or at least entrust it with my homework; the way children dress here; the yogurt; antiques; the way it stays light so late.  ok, i'll stop.

i am really starting to feel comfortable here.  my professor is always late (always, always, always), so today the class thought we'd play a trick on him and i started teaching the class.  he walked in, said he had to enroll a new student into the class, and left me to continue teaching for another five minutes, giving me a total of 15 minutes of discussion on descartes.  it was very funny, and the class actually had a great discussions about descartes.  i wonder if this school will ever be the same after i leave?  oh well, it's too late to go back now.  professor talcott was not at all upset over my antics and found them quite amusing.  actually, after last monday's class, he asked me to help him out, so i was merely doing what he asked.

ok, gotta go for now!  i miss you all!

first week is over!

thank god the first week is over!

what an insane week! nonstop seminars: some mandatory, some not, some just for fun, all important for bonding. getting to know most people. forming friendships and watching them form between others, and then shift. it’s all so crazy! i met with my adviser and he’s brilliant. i met him the first day of orientation and asked him if the students call their professors by their first names or by title. he suggested i take the “adapting to paris” seminar (isn’t that hysterical?), saying paris is formal in that way. when i had my advising appointment with him, i pointed out my age and he (after asking how i managed to look so young (monkey gland injections) admitted to being younger than me and that he would call me “madame s” and that i could call him by his first name. of course he was joking, but we both found it funny.

i avoided going out last night to get rip roaring drunk with the kids - really, i have been in that state before and do not particularly enjoy the next day. besides, i have way too much to do today, like clean the apartment, purchase hangers, get over the horrible jetlag, make my first breakfast here (finally!), etc. i just need to be settled for monday’s classes at 9 (thank goodness i am only 5 minutes from that particular building!).

i have avoided doing the stairmaster for the past few months, and i am now living life on the 5th floor; yes, there is an elevator, but i do not have the key for it. it’s great for my cardiovascular system; my former trainer would be proud.

an apartment has been found!!! 10 meters square. on the esplanade in front of les invalides. private shower. 5th floor. no elevator (think of how fabulous my butt will look). french doors. adorable landlady.