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....