lundi 16 juillet 2012

Have you ever had to make yourself blink and shake your head just to remind yourself you’re not dreaming? I did that this weekend, the majority of the weekend. Friday we went to a Bastille Day dance party inside a fire station with probably 400 people. Ran into an A&M friend on the other side of the world. Danced my heart out in the rain. 

Slept in until 1pm Saturday. Did you know there is a mini Statue of Liberty in Paris? I saw it. Picnic of cheese, baguettes and French cookies on the Champs de Mars under the Eiffel Tower. Sunset and laughing with friends. Mental pictures.

Then “It’s Raining Men” came on, and I thought of Gracie, mom, and I jamming out to that song on the Summer Mix CD on the way to Cambridge.

The theme for Bastille Day’s Eiffel Tower fireworks was Disco, so they hung up a HUGE disco ball in the middle of the Eiffel Tower! The fireworks started, and for an hour, we got to live in a dream world with the sparkling Eiffel Tower lit up by fireworks. We laughed and danced and ooed and awed and screamed like little girls.

More mental pictures.

Pinch me.

Yesterday I went to lunch with my church here, and met a bunch of new friends. But unfortunately that was my last Sunday. I started to get really sad yesterday once I realized I was about to leave. I feel like I am just getting to know a few people really well, and am just getting fully adjusted. I could stay here for a long time.

The friends I met are from Seattle, and they are some really cute sophomore college girls who I would love to be friends with. After dinner, we went to a really neat open-air market with old trinkets and vintage clothes, house decorations, books, jewelry.

I spent almost an hour flipping through a box of old Polaroid pictures. I found one photo of a marine sitting on the stairs with a smirk on his face. And another one of a young woman, and you could only see the silhouette of her face against the sun as she looked away. I imagined that they gave those photos to each other to remember when they were apart, as they were both had a worn crease down the middle.

Kaitlyn and I hung out with our friend Razvan by the Seine after the market. I love the quais of the Seine. We sat and listen to music, drank Schwepps, did trust-falls, and talked as the sun went down. “I have starting living by a new motto,” Razvan said, “My friends are more important than sleep.” I texted Beatrice and told her I changed my mind and wasn’t going to be home for dinner. And the three of us went to the Latin Quarter and ate falafels at the famous “L’As du Falafel.” We sat in the street and watched the people go by.

I was tired this morning. It feels like it should be Friday. It’s Monday. And it was worth it.  

I’m trying to figure out how I can get back here. Still working on it. I’ll keep you posted.

vendredi 13 juillet 2012

This week has gone by possibly faster than any of the past 6. And exactly one week from now, I will be packing my bags and preparing to leave Paris. It’s a strange place, where I am right now: I am still in Paris mode, but I am having to prepare for Texas mode again. And it’s bittersweet.

In the last two weeks, I have started to be more homesick for home and everyone who makes up the idea of “home” for me. So it’s for that reason that I am antsy to see everyone, to see my parents’ new home that they are already getting used to. But I have also had to slap myself a few times recently and remind myself to make the most of the rest of my time here.

I love it here. I absolutely love it. And that’s why it’s bittersweet.  But I think that if I were to stay here for a long time—not even permanently, but just for a longer time than 8 weeks, some things would have to change. I guess that means I’ll have to come back—just to test my theory, of course.

This past weekend, the church I’ve been going to here had a party on a boat on the River Seine! The theme was Scarlet O’Hara and Rhett Butler, Gone With The Wind, Civil-War-era boat ride down the “Mississippi River”. As you can expect, this meant no one had a clue what to wear (“What’s the Mississippi river?”).

It ended up being a very fun idea, and they even hired some French man to teach us how to “two-step.” (I must note that the first song he put on after teaching us to line dance was Mercy by Duffy. Wonderful song, but for two-stepping?! I wanted to step in with my side-kick Chloe to show them who’s boss.) The “un, deux--un deux trios quatre--un deux trios quatre” counting was a first and made me smile.

Tonight, I am going to eat raclette with my friends at a restaurant—apparently the idea of raclette is similar to fondue, but is different? Good story, Jen, right? I’ll have to blog about it after eating it, so I can actually have something to say about it.

This weekend is Bastille Day! To celebrate the French’s equivalent of independence day, there is a parade down the Champs Elysees in the morning, and fireworks behind the Eiffel Tower at night. Apparently, everyone picnics on the Champs de Mars all day to save their spot for the evening fireworks.  

I love the idea of having a parade on the Champs Elysees, because of the history that has happened there, and how symbolic it is. During the Occupation of France in WWII, Hitler and his army marched down the Champs Elysees in 1940. And upon the Liberation of Paris in 1944, the French army paraded down the Champs with Charles de Gaulle to symbolize restored control of Paris.

I ended up buying that book Paris-Brule-t-il (Is Paris Burning?) about the Occupation of France in WWII, and though I haven’t gotten past page 2, I will make progress! It’s mind over matter here. I am a reader. I am a reader. I am a reader.

Aaaannnnd for the last random thought to spill on my blog, here you go: I have to have my boss fill out an intern evaluation (for A&M), and when he handed it back to me, I saw he had written Sharon Stone as the student intern name, and Paul Newman Prince of Persia as the Intern evaluator. I simply responded, “I don’t understand.”

Generational thing? He wrote me a new one. 

Check out that reach! These are some experienced tourists. Welcome to Paris in the summer!

jeudi 5 juillet, 2012

My favorite things about Paris so far:

-Having my window open all day and night and letting the breeze come in

-Safety in numbers: you can walk across the street as long as there isn’t a car coming at that moment (despite the lit-up red man telling pedestrians to not walk). If hesitant, just follow people who start walking. I learned that on my first day here: Julie told me “In Paris, you always go when it’s red.” But there is no fine for j-walking here!

-Fresh bread with butter. No explanation needed.

-Young guys will put on music in the metro and start dance parties. Ice Ice Baby was on yesterday and I was laughing really hard.

-This bumper sticker: "I love nothing. I'm Parisien." 

My not-as-favorite things about Paris so far:

-They put zucchini, carrots and cucumbers in everything.

-It is normal to undercook your beef so it’s “sanglant”—literally, “bloody”. Very foreign to me.

- No public bathrooms ANYWHERE. I have to remember mommy’s sound advice: before you leave the house, “just try.”

-I miss dogs and always want to go up and pet the ones I see in the street. I particularly miss my best friend Molly.

-The metro can be pretty stuffy and germ-y.

-The weather is just as unpredictable as Texas: one day it’s 80 degrees and sunny, and the next day it’s 60 and rainy. And it gets pretty humid here too.

- Fois gras. And salmon paste. 2 words come to mind: Cat. Food.

I have been trying to start to look up ideas for what I would want to possibly do after I graduate (10 months away, eek!) which is very exciting, but also a bit scary, as I’m still not sure what I see myself doing. 

Maybe Public Relations, maybe journalism? Maybe moving to the Caribbean and sleeping all day? It’s fun, however, to think of all the places in the world I could possibly work, and to think of what a blessing it could be if I can get a job doing something that I really enjoy.

I have been a bit homesick this week though, just missing getting the rest that I get at home with my family. It’s different here, just because I don’t really have my own space, except for my bedroom. Still finding the balance of getting Jennifer-time, and pushing myself to take advantage of being in Paris.

Most unfortunately, the taste of coffee is getting a bit old to me—because of my 4 cups a day. I am tired here. Sometimes at work, I’ll look at my desk and take a quick nap with my eyes open. Don’t ask me how it works. It’s just magic.

Last night, I went to my friend Ed’s host family’s house with Kaitlyn and some other girls, and we all celebrated the 4^th of July by making an “American dinner,” consisting of chili lime chicken, chips and queso, lemonade, and a blueberry tart. It wasn’t the most typical American meal ever, but hey. It worked! It was just fun to be in a different French family’s home—I always enjoy seeing the differences between families.

Well. I probably have much more to write about, but I’m having trouble thinking because I’m just on my 2^nd cup of coffee! 

But for the road, I’ll leave you with this: People rollerblading through the metro is just as annoying and puzzling as people rollerblading through A&M campus. 

I’m pretty sure stairs are more difficult on skates.