Scary scary scary wind

Yes, I'm up at 6:10 on a Sunday morning, and this is after I tried to will myself back to sleep for about 45 minutes. The wind this morning is absolutely ridiculous. It seriously sounds like the roof is going to fly off the building. When I went out in the hallway to go to the bathroom, it sounded like the windows were going to be ripped right off their hinges. Because each room has a vent in it, the air flow through this upper floor is unreal! It's actually quite terrifying. I imagine that this is what a tornado sounds like. Anywho, the fact remains that I am up now, and I need to update this mama.

Cáit and I met up on Friday at noon to go to RestoU. So we traversed the 15th , found the RestoU, and show the guard our IDs. (By the way, I can't spell guard. Every time I write it out, it's gaurd, and every time, I need to correct it!) The guard informed us that it had closed at Noon, that it had been this way for many years, and that it was clearly marked online. Although, we're apparently not alone: he said a lot of people ask him about the RestoU.

Oh well! So, we took ourselves across the street to a Chinese restaurant. My limited French with my thick American accent did not mesh well with the server's limited French and her thick accent. After thoroughly stuffing ourselves with fried goodness, we set off on our day's adventure. Thanks to Cáit's beautiful map, I can recreate our journey!

We began with a trip to the Catacombs. Wow! What a terrifying experience! Cáit claims she was on the verge of wetting herself, and I almost ate my pamphlet. Imagine going underground via a little tiny spiral staircase, going beneath the sewers and the subways, coming out in this concrete room with other people looking at pictures and history, heading into the actual tunnels, and seeing no one, hearing no one, and wandering in very poorly lit mines with shadowy nooks and crannies, the whole time knowing that this is an enormous section filled with dead people. I'll put up some pictures to explain:

Tiny, dark winding mines with scary nooks and grates

Bones. Lots and Lots and Lots and Lots of bones.

During the Second Empire, a massive cemetery was dug up, and all the bones were brought here. To say thousands of people had there bones' in the catacombs doesn't really paint a complete picture. We wandered fro about 20 or 30 minutes in the catacombs, and every wall of the entire journey was comprised of bones! They had so many bones that they made designs with them! Disgusting.

The exit for the Catacombs dropped us out in the middle of a random side street. We had not idea where we were. So after making our initial wrong turn, we headed off to Rue Mouffetard. The name comes from the no longer extent tributary that ran right next to the street. Apparently everyone dumped their waste in the water, and it stank like skunks, which is moufette in french, and thus Rue Mouffetard. Anywho, it's a narrow street winding up a hillside, and it's lined with little shops and restaurants and bars. We even found a bowling alley! Our souvenir for this leg of the trip was a bag of really stale gummies, the kind of stale gummies that rip your teeth out!

Next stop? The Pantheon. I can't remember why we went in that direction, but we spend a few minutes resting on the steps of the Pantheon before heading off to the Institute of the Arab World, the building that put the architect Jean Nouvel on the map. Essentially, he designed a screen for the all glass façade that is reminiscent of north African wood screens. But this screen is made out of steel, and the openings are equipped with light sensitive apertures, which means that as the sun load on the screen increases, the apertures close, reducing the amount of light and heat that hits the interior of the building. However, the apertures are often breaking. Oh well!

Notice how some of the openings are smaller than others?

Then we wandered to the Garden of Plants, which was ... lackluster. Granted, its February, and not much is going to be in bloom! Then, after misinterpretting the size of Paris, I suggested we walk to the French National Library. Yeah. Not really as close as I thought it would be. It was a fun walk though. All new 20th and 21st century buildings.

Anywho, the Bibliothèque National de France is a large rectangle with a courtyard in the center. The study rooms, reading rooms, and lecture halls are all centered around this courtyard. Then, on the four corners of the rectangle, four L-shaped towers rise about 15 or 20 stories. These are the stacks. I can't imagine that the whole 4 stacks thing works very well, but the French don't seem to mind, so who am I to complain? We headed inside to find a much needed bathroom. There was a cleaning woman standing outside the men's bathroom. I had to say "excuse me" to get by her. Then, after coming out of my stall, she was wiping down the sinks. I waited a reasonable amount of time before saying "excuse me" again. It should be noted that neither time did she express and recognition that I had spoken to her. Then, after drying my hands, following the logical pattern, I decided to leave the bathroom. But her cart was blocking the entire doorway! Once again "excuse me." She gave me an attitude and said "Just push the door open more!" Ok then.

One of the stacks at the BN de F

The BN de F repented for this rude woman by giving us a cool map exhibit. Cáit and I both got to make maps. You should check them out on Facebook! We went to a few shops at the BN de F movie theater, then decided it was time for din-din. So we headed back to Rue Mouffetard, via metro this time. Both our feet were hurting by this point.

Our dinner experience really crowned our day's journey. We found what looked like a nice quiet restaurant with a decent prix fixe. We walk in, sit down, and realize that the only other people in the place are part of an enormous group of American college students. Super authentic! Our waiter came over, and I almost screamed. He was probably the scariest human being I have ever seen! Imagine Criss Angel, but old, and 10,000 times creepier. He was nice and accomodating, but still, very scary. Somewhere between the escargots and the bœuf bourguignon, the lights started flickering, and colored light ball started spinning and the music volume went way up! The rest of the meal consisted of good food, good conversation and Criss Angel doing the Macerana!

After splitting up for the night, I spent two pointless hours going through this website, called "Picture is Unrelated." Quality! My favorite is the image posted below:

Seriously, what is this?!

The next day, yesterday, Saturday, Feb. 27th: whatever you want to call it, I met up with Cáit and Grace for a picnic in the Luxembourg Gardens. It was very enjoyable and very filling. Though, during the meal, it got significantly colder, and by the end of the dessert section, I was ready to get up and move around. We met up with Michel on the Île-de-la-Cité, and sort of wandered around together for awhile. We tried Notre Dame, but decided that waiting in line was a stupid idea. We went to the smallest street in Paris "Rue du Chat-qui-pêche." We hit up Shakespeare & Co. We went to Île-St.-Louis and tried find Berthillon ice cream, because nothing completes and cold and dreary afternoon like ice cream. Then we wandered back to Michel's apartment, saw his place, and discovered his landlord's obsession with turtles, and then split ways once again for the evening. Still exhausted from the day before, I threw in the towel early and went to bed around 10:45.

Then I was woken up by the crazy wind! And now I'm finishing my blog post, 1 hour and 29 minutes after I began.

À bientôt,

Dave

By-the-by, I believe there is a rogue "nt" in here somewhere. Point it out to me if you see it! Thanks.

A picture is worth 1,000 words

Nice Weekend

Bonsoir à tous!

I had a very nice weekend. I know, it's monday; but I didn't have class today, so thus, it gets tacked on to my weekend!

Friday: For my Contemporary France class, we met our professor at the Museum of Immigration on Friday morning. Fun fact: the museum is on the COMPLETE other side of Paris from me. I was a little bitter about the whole "getting up on friday to go to a museum for class" thing, but I sucked it up. This sucking up was in vain. Instead of taking on us on a tour of the museum, our professor who scheduled the trip told us all to get audio guides and walk around the museum alone. Quality teaching style!

After putting in my time there, Taylor and I headed off to Resto-U, a sort of cafeteria system all over Paris for University students. It was fun to see all the French students. My next task is to actually talk to them!

Then I met Caìt, Lindsay, and Lindsay's friends Joe at the Grand Palais to go to the instillation there, called Monumenta, for my Contemporary Art Scene class. In all honesty, I felt nothing and did not see a point. I really wish someone could have enlightened me, because everyone else really seemed to be affected by it!

On slightly cooler note, since Lindsay and Joe were on a time crunch, I took them on a walking "hot-spots-only" tour of the Louvre. Good times! Sort of a preview of Saturday.

Friday night was Lauren's 21st birthday. So I got some macaroons, some cheese and bread, and some chocolate cookies for the festivities. I had a good time talking with everyone and what not, but I peaced out around 1:00 AM to go home to bed. Apparently, that's when things happened. One of the stupid, over-testosteroned, straight, bro-y guys there flipped off Lauren, the birthday girl, who then made the idiot leave her apartment. Apparently, feeling angry and super macho, he punched in some windows in the entrance door. What is wrong with people.

Saturday: The next morning, I found the gardien of the building cleaning up the mess when I went to meet Lindsay, Joe, and some of her visiting girl friends at Lindsay's apartment. At that point, I had no idea what had happened, and so I asked the gardien. To me, it clearly looked like some had tried to break into the building: the windows by the locks were broken and the was blood on the wall. But, as the gardien explained, it was some jumped up guy from the party on the 4th floor who had done it.

After Lindsay and Lauren attempted to get in contact with the landlord, we left for Versailles. Nothing takes your mind off of stupid pigheaded people like Versailles. We had a lovely day, as always, at Versailles. After exhausting ourselves, we headed home. I spent the next 36 hours doing a mixture of the following three things: sleeping, eating, messing around on my computer.

Monday: I got up today with the intention of getting my hair cut. I succeeded. I told her I wanted something different. To sum up, I ended up with a cheap blow dryer and gel. WOOPS!

In fact, Not broken!

After a series of very frustrating days with my faux-stutter, I decided to talk to someone.

For those who don't know, when I was little I suffered from a stutter. My parents sent me to an oral pathologist which solved that problem. However, in its wake, I developed a different problem: when I am in a place with a lot of people talking or a lot of activity, I am unable to speak. It's not that I am scared or intimidated, I am just physically unable to make the sounds that I want to make. It's as if there is a temporary disconnect between my brain and my mouth. It is really unpleasant and very frustrating. Imagine being unable to communicate or express yourself in a language that you are quite capable in. It's a problem for both English and French.

For example, while Luke was here, we were at a Starbucks. It was jam packed. Luke's order came up, and I wanted to say "C'est à moi, je suis Luke." Instead my mouth and tongue froze and nothing came out. Blah. A few days ago at Monoprix, the cashier asked me to pull the ribbon to close her line, but I had trouble understanding her. I wanted to ask her to repeat, but once again, no sound. She looked at me like I had two heads, then asked the woman in front of me to do it instead.

Anywhosies, I decided to consult Patrick, my language professor. I remember him talking about how different lobes of the brain function while learning a language, so I figured he would be a good resource. I emailed him tuesday night with the intention of speaking to him in class today.

I woke up today feeling pretty defeated, so I decided to wear my purple paisley tie to cheer myself up. That didn't really work. Finally, after Patrick finished class at 4:00, we had our meeting. I explained my problem, what I thought the cause was, and frustrating it is to have an issue that no one can relate to. As it turns out, he has a similar problem. He suggested that, in fact, it's not a real problem, but rather a small nuance that a obsess over and develop into a problem. That is to say, I make myself think it's more of a problem than it actually is.

I explained why: when describing the problem to other people, no one understands what I am saying and they have no first hand experience. Wouldn't you feel like you had a problem if no one else has the same frustrating experience? Patrick suggested that I am just hyper-sensitive to the problems and missteps that I make, and consequently, I notice things that other people don't.

He also suggested that it might be linked to my control-freak-ness: I cannot let go, I cannot "just go for it." Once again, a problem that he suffers from.

Another hypothesis: I might be a wee bit agoraphobic. I was pretty much shocked and appalled when he said this. Me? Agoraphobic? Never. But then I thought about it. I feel like if "homebody" were translated into scientific jargon it would be "acute agoraphobia."

Well, now this a little too vain, a little too narcissistic. I'm starting to sound like a certain hypochondriac. So let's stop that!

On Wednesday, I went to several galleries with my Contemporary Art Scene class. At one gallery we saw this very interesting sculptures created with fine threads hanging from a grid. On the threads are miniscule objects. The effect: when you stand far enough away, it becomes a static solid object. However, the subjects were a bit ... uncomfortable. Each of the sculptures featured taxidermic animals. For example, there was a squirrel surrounded by a giant cube of fruit flies. Yum!

Tomorrow, I am getting up nice and early to go to the Museum of Immigration for my super thrilling Contemporary France Class. The plus side: this replaces class on monday! Sweet.

Well, with that, this stutterer is going to sign off.

À..à..à..à b..b..b..bient..t..t..tôt!

-Dave

10 days

Quelle décade! These past 10 days have just flown by. Luke arrived last friday, Feb. 5th, and it has been a whirlwind ever since. To list everything we did would be ridiculous (and extremely difficult), so I will just talk about the highlights.

On the morning of Friday, Feb. 12th, Luke and I headed to Versailles. Yes, I went to Versailles again, and I had just as much fun as before! We did the usual: Chateau, Petit Venise, Grand Trianon. We went through all the public rooms at the Petit Trianon. However, just as we were about to head down the central staircase, the docent asked us if we wanted to go on a free, private tour of the private rooms. I died. Or at least, I went to heaven. Obviously we agreed, and 20 minutes later, I was translating the more interesting facts from our guide's spiel for Luke. It was an absolutely fantastic experience. However, I think I got myself a little too worked up, because shortly after the tour was finished, my stomach began to hurt, the first time since my arrival in January.

Yesterday was Valentine's Day. You all know that. Luke and I did some toursity things in the morning, came home for a bit of respite, and then headed out to find a restaurant for dinner. Luke wanted to go to the Marais, AKA the Gayborhood and Jewville. We quickly found a restaurant with a decent prix fixe and began our slow journey through dinner. 3 courses, 2 bottles of wine, 2 glasses of champagne, and 3 hours later, we headed out to the Eiffel Tower. It was very romantic.

Luke left this morning, and class began anew shortly after his departure. I will download my pictures from my camera tomorrow afternoon and hopefully post one or two tomorrow evening.

À toute à l'heure,

-Dave

Luke is here!

Let's see... what's new? Oh, Luke is here.

Thursday was pretty low key. I just messed around at NYU until about 2:00, as a means of procrastinating the super necessary cleaning that needed to occur chez moi.

Friday around 11:00, I headed out to Charles de Gaulle to pick up Luke. Ellipsis ellipsis ellipsis. We got to my apartment around 2:00, got some lunch, went to Monoprix (I know the hot spots in Paris!). Then, in an effort to fight off Luke's Jet Lag, we walked down l'Avenue de Grande Armée and l'Avenue des Champs Élyssées, passing all that Paris has to offer: Quick, McDonald's, Gap. After working our way through the Louvre, we crossed the Pont Neuf and went to Notre-Dame. Sadly, it was relatively dark outside by the time we got there, so the windows weren't super exciting. Came back, went to Monoprix (such is my life), made some din-din, and went to bed.

I think the "Jet Lag Prevention" tactics were a success. We are about to head out and be touristy. Not entirely sure what that means yet! ;)

-Dave

Grad Class? Pass.

Yesterday I had my first grad class.

I am not sure if I have been more frustrated in my life! Yes, the prof was great and the class seemed interesting enough, but there were three problems standing in my way: 1) the class (French Perspectives on Multi-Cultural Education) is targeted at French Education masters students, thus they all have a knowledge base that I just don't have; 2) the prof spoke very very fast; 3) the prof used way too many colloquialisms; 4) the prof said "Quoi" at the end of the sentence. I understand that this last item is very popular amongst the French in spoken language, but it makes it really hard for me to understand what they are saying.

I was pretty frustrated. I wanted to sit down in a corner and cry. As many of you know, I like to talk to people on the subway. I think it's a lot of fun. But the French don't seem to be as fond of this pastime. Anywho, after class, while waiting for the subway, a girl started talking to me. But I think my ears and brain had given up on French because I didn't understand a thing she said. Sigh. So I went to McDonald's for a wee bit of comfort food. And again, I could not communicate with or understand the cashier. Three strikes, and you're out!

Patrick and I exchanged a few e-mails and I elected to speak to the head of NYU in Paris today to weigh my options. Being the head and all, she wasn't free until 5:30. So following my tour at the Louvre, I sat around NYU waiting for my meeting. What fun! But, I joke. I actually had fun times with people in the Salon.

During our meeting, Caroline was super helpful, and is going to throw her support behind a class on contemporary french art as a replacement for my grad class. Hopefully New York likes the idea, because I think it sounds great!

Well, there goes another poorly written blog post. Must go do some homeworks.

-Dave

First Day of Classes

Monday was the first day of classes, well, real classes. I woke up yesterday morning thanks to the sun beating on my window. I opened the blinds so I could see the sky and the sun, grabbed my computer and got back in bed. I looked back outside a few minutes later, and to my surprise, it was blizzard-ing! Near white-out conditions with snowflakes measuring 2 - 3 inches in diameter. Craziness! Ten minutes later, it was sunny again.

Northern European weather is weird. I remember when I was in Berlin for a week two years ago, I experienced the same kind of crazy weather!

Anywho, after eating my petit déjeuner (breakfast), I headed to the métro. Seeing as it was the first of the month yesterday, I needed to refill my NaviGo métro card for the coming month. The automated machines don't like me though. Or, rather, they don't like my credit cards. So I had to cross Porte Maillot to go to the other end of my station to talk to a real attendant. 56,60€. I have found that prices in France tend to be strange amounts like this.

My first class, Museums & Monuments, seems interesting enough. I am having trouble reading the professor. When she speaks, she seems old. Yet, she doesn't look old. It's very strange. While she was waiting for the computer to load so she could load her Power Point, she commented on how the Windows XP symbol falls into the Baroque/Rococo family. It was funny.

Then came the pause. I got a croque monsieur for lunch and went walking with Lindsay, speaking only in French. Patrick said that if I want to improve my French, I really need to commit myself to living a Francophone life.

Class 2: Contemporary France. Three hours. Driest professor ever. I had to poke Taylor to keep him from falling asleep. Words can't describe this class. I asked ridiculous questions just so I would be engaged and wouldn't fall asleep myself.

I stopped by Monoprix with Taylor, came home, ran to BNP to get my rent money, paid my rent, ate my dinner, and went to beddy-by. Now, I am getting ready to head to class with Patrick (WOOO!). It looks like it's going to be a grey/rainy day. Very original.

-Dave