Dubbblaahhhhhh, Ireland

Ok, I only have six minutes to post; Internet is not cheap at the hostel. I arrived in Dublin with my friends last night, and that story is going to be QUITE a post. I guess I'm giving you something to look forward to since I don't have time to type about it right now.

I like the town; it's hip, and it feels a LOT smaller than Paris. I'm definitely more cut out for Paris, but I'm excited to be here for three days.

The bad news, and the reason that I titled this post as I did, is: I'm sick. Yeah, REALLY. That part is no fun, but one of the other girls I came with got sick too, so at least I'm not the only one spoiling the fun.

I feel sick and I feel guitly for bringing down the mood. What a TERRIBLE time to get sick. Hopefully this is just a 24-hour thing...

It was bound to happen at some point during my six-week stay, I suppose.

Okay, gotta go. Hopefully I'll sleep this off and be able to write soon about what a marvelous time I had.

LOVE!

Kate

Off to the Emerald Isle

***NB: It's been brought to my attention that I've been blogging more about my hair than I have about France. Although I do extend my sincerest apologies for my alleged negligence, I hope you understand the correlation. I, the former QUEEN of non-change (especially in regard to coiffeurial affairs), HAVE BEEN CHANGED in such a way that now I want a HAIRCUT. This country has done that to me, just as Jessica Thompson promised it would. Therefore, indirectly, the posts about the haircut WERE about France.

Moving on...

I'm leaving for Ireland in less than six hours. Katie, Anna and I decided we wanted to take an inexpensive trip somewhere, and the hostels and flights to Dublin were the cheapest around, so we'll be there till Sunday! Katie is Irish, so she's super excited about it. I'm looking forward to it, but I don't know what to expect! It ought to be a lot of fun. I'm bringing paper and crayons for the plane, and I can't wait to draw!!! Haha, I'm so immature. I've been wanting to make another children's book, so I've been toying with some characters. I drew a pretty rockin' duck in my grammar class this morning, and he could definitely join Henry the Steer, Henrietta the Cow, Lilly the Frog and Cletus the Pig in my farm animal series.

I spent WAY too much money with Michelle last week, so I've been very good this week. I've been entertaining myself with lots of free activities, like taking really long walks and people-watching. It's definitely been the most low-key week since I arrived, which I take as a good sign. I'm pretty much adjusted to Paris life! I've had a lot of tests this week... maybe four... and I haven't been eating out every day. In fact, I only ate at a café once, and that cost 3.50 euro.

HOWEVER... We in France are right in the middle of the Grandes Soldes, the HUGE sales mandated by the French government for a few days each year, where sections of every single store are up to 70 percent off. Of COURSE, I had to go to H&M and ZARA.

Yesterday marked the first day of the sales, and I arrived with a couple of friends RIGHT after school, about six hours after stores opened. As a result of our "lateness," it was CHAOS. Stores were completely picked over, garments littered the ground, and smelly people with really bad B.O. stood shoulder to shoulder. I definitely got pushed REALLY hard several times and had someone grab a shirt out of my hand. How could I love H&M and ZARA so much on Tuesday, but be so frightened of them on Wednesday? The answer points to the crazy French people for whom saving money is worth losing a limb at the Solde... literally.

Needless to say, I didn't want to stick around long. Based on my desire to save money at this point, that's probably a good thing. But let us not forget, I am an expert shopper, and though I don't have the girth of the giant North African women who bowled me over in the shoe department, I am scrappy and quick, and I know what I like when I see it. I managed to snag a very elegant skirt and a burnt orange and white tank top, both 70 percent off. I spent only 11 euro on two items that on Tuesday would have cost me upwards of 40 euro. WOOT!

I suppose I should prepare myself to spend money this weekend. We get breakfast at our hostel, and as I mentioned earlier, we saved money on the flight and the room, but I hear Dublin is not cheap. Sighhh...

It ought to be a really great weekend. Make sure you cheer France on to victory in the World Cup on Saturday! We're playing Brazil, so chances are I'll be coming home to a very disappointed host brother (Félix is a die-hard football fan).

Cheers,

Kate

Haircut Update

This is what I'm thinking in the way of haircuts. It'll be about five or six inches shorter than it is now, and just really layered, with the shortest layer starting right about the chin. Since my hair is curly I can't really go too short, but I'm CRAVING a style of some sort. With this cut, I could straighten it, but if it got frizzy and curled up, it'd be ok. I want something that works with the "messy" look, and I HAVE to be able to mostly put it in a ponytail.

THOUGHTS???

Kate

P.S. I guess this post is mostly for the ladies, but men, if you have any suggestions, please feel free to opine.

Vive la France!!!

It's halftime in the World Cup match between France and Spain. The game is tied 1 - 1, and I think most of the sports gurus here don't expect much from France, but the excitement over the game is contagious!

I even bought a France football tanktop, and I don't usually wear tank tops. I wish I could explain how fun it has been to experience the World Cup in Europe as it's taking place. I've watched matches with friends at pubs, but I have two tests tomorrow, so tonight I'm staying home.

I have my balcony doors open, and when France scored a goal in the first half, EVERYONE in the neighborhood started screaming.

Vive les Bleus!

Kate

THIS JUST IN: "We" dominate! 3 - 1, France, bébé. IN YO VISAGE, Spain!

Ode to Sabrina: HAIRCUT!

All right, so remember from the movie "Sabrina" how the mousey heroine travels to Paris and comes back all chic and French-ified? Well, I know what she was going through. I've only been here for three weeks, but I already am DYING to get my hair cut. Unfortunately, I can't use any of my hair-straightening appliances here (probably has something to do with the fact that I've blown out two voltage converters), so I'm not getting it cut in France. My dear mother has kindly scheduled an appointment for me the morning after I return.

My hair is pretty long right now, more than halfway down my back. I used to have haircut-o-phobia, but I want something a little more sophisticated. Suggestions?

I guess this will be an instapoll, and I'm sorry if it's a little vain. This is a HUGE step for me. I truly have not gotten my hair cut into any kind of real style since I was in eighth grade, so I need help! I've just gone to Great Clips for trims, pretty much.

But anyway, males and females alike, I beseech you: Give me some coiffeurial counsel!

Helpless,

Kate

French people love yogurt.

What time is it? That’s right— It’s time for another hasty generalization, kids!!! I just got back from Carrefour, a sort of French Walmart, and it occurred to me how MANY varieties of yogurt there are in France. Picture two full aisles of semi-solid potted liqueousness. I’m talking FOUR LONG ROWS of different yogurts, liquidy puddings, and potted desserts.

After every meal I have with my family, we eat yogurt. I decided to jump on the yogurt train and buy some for myself. My family is supposed to provide me with breakfast everyday, which is always bread and jelly. BUT, that is SOOO chock full of carbohydrates that I get hungry by 10:00 a.m. I’m not an anti-carb gal at all, but I definitely want a little bit of protein with my breakfast. I’ve tried several varieties: grapefruit (pamplemousse), pear (poire), pineapple (ananas)… but today I discovered the greatest of all yogurts: KIWI.

Is there kiwi yogurt in the US? I don’t think so…

Anyway, I think it’s a strange predilection on the part of the French, but even YOGURT they do well. Where we have jello pudding cups, they have crême brulée in little glass pots. Where we have strawberry yogurt, they have… really GOOD strawberry yogurt.

I usually live on low-fat cottage cheese, and it’s difficult to find here because it’s an English tradition and the French hate all things English. But TODAY I discovered a version called Fromage Frais. It’s has a ton of fat though (lipides or mat gras), so I only got two. I’m already in trouble because Michelle and I discovered the BEST boulangerie in France right behind my apartment. I’d be eating beignets every day if I could… but I sort of don’t want to be the only fat person in France.

So anyway, just thought I’d share another little quirk I’ve noticed about French people. I’ll keep them coming!

Feeling tubby,

Kate

You've got mail... AGAIN!

Guys. There is no feeling quite like the feeling I get when I walk into the entrance at school, stare straight ahead at my mailbox, and find it BRIMMING with DELICIOUS envelopes!!!

All right, so maybe it wasn't brimming, per se, but I'm telling you, every single day I walk in and hope to see letters in my mailbox, and THIS AFTERNOON I found TWO!

I had just left school and decided to walk to the post office to mail some things, and on the way back I planned to buy some fruit at a stand. I didn't NEED to go back to school-- classes were over for the day-- but I thought I'd stop into the computer lab to check my email (sighhh... ok, AND facebook).

ANYWAY, TWO LETTERS!!!

I'll go in order of my level of excitement, from lower to higher (thrilled to ecstatic):

The first was a movie ticket that I won along with one other girl for winning another trivia contest. YAY! There are a lot of good movies out in Paris right now, but it's so expensive, so now I can go crazy.

The SECOND-- ohhhh, the second-- was a card from my FAMILY with lots and lots of pictures of the people (and the dog) I love the most! It absolutely made my DAY! I mean, what better way to start off the week than by receiving a card and a stack of pictures from my favorite people?

YAY!

Soooo happy,

Kate

Michelle, ma belle…

It’s been a whirlwind three weeks since I arrived in Paris, and on Wednesday of last week, it got even whirlwindier. Michelle Enriquez, my BFF of about 12 years, decided to jet-set from Barcelona, Spain over to Paris for a visit. We had SUCH a great time together, seeing many of the monuments and museums I'd already visited (the Louvre, Notre Dame, etc.), but also doing SO MUCH that I've been waiting to do because I knew would be more fun with a good friend.

Michelle and her friend Kelsey touched down in Paris around 8:00 p.m. Wednesday, and I met them at the hotel as soon as the ballet was over. (You may recall I won tickets to see a ballet at the Comédie-Francaise.) Incidentally, Wednesday was the citywide Fête de la Musique, where bands and orchestras and hip hop acts and EVERYONE plays free music in the streets. Robbie Williams even gave a free concert! We tried to find a cool act, but we got started pretty late (after midnight), and we decided to just head back to the hotel before the metros all closed. The metros were SUPPOSED to stay open all night because of the festival, but the directrice at school had warned us of a rumored metro strike that would leave festival-goers with few options.

Well guess what? That happened to us. We had to walk MILES back to the hotel, arriving around 2:30 a.m. Not exactly the warmest welcome Kelsey and Michelle could have had. I stayed at the hotel Wednesday night because I certainly didn't want to walk home alone!

The next day was MUCH better. Michelle and I went shopping for hours, spent way too much money, and then headed up to Montmartre, this artist colony on top of a mountain in northwest Paris. We found a restaurant that serves all manner of fondue and-- get this-- wine out of BABY BOTTLES. I'd love to show you pictures, but it may take a while since the computer is a little busted. I'll try later.

After Montmartre (which was out of this world), we went to the Eiffel Tower to see the light show. We managed to get the LAST elevator to the top, and we got to view the entire city lit up from the highest point. We shared the elevator with two French guys who were actually good looking, and they took quite a liking to us. It got old after a while, but it was fun to speak in French and translate for Michelle.

Friday we spent HOURS in the Louvre, which was crazy. That place is WAY too intimidating, but it's also awe-inspiring to be in a room with antiquities and masterpieces like those.

After the Louvre, we made our way to Notre Dame, where Michelle spent a small fortune on rosaries for family members. It was my third visit to Notre Dame during this trip, but this was the first time I was really struck by the commercialism of the church of Notre Dame. Michelle and I had seen a painting at the Louvre called Jesus Driving the Merchants from the Temple, a portrayal of the episode in John 2 where Jesus threw out all the merchants desecrating the temple with their base trades. The gift shop in the church, the line of people waiting to pay eight euro to go up to the top with romantic notions of The Hunchback... and all the while they were conducting a church service. It was a little off-putting.

The good news is, I got over it and Michelle and I had a picnic on the Pont Alexandre III (Bridge of Alexander III) overlooking the Seine. It was so simple: wine, cheese, ham, fruit... We would have had a baguette, but I accidentally left it at home. We took really artsy photos of the river and the sunset and the boats. TONS of fun.

Saturday Michelle and I met really early to go to a flea market just north of Paris. It's supposedly the largest flea market in the world, and it really felt huge! It is mostly comprised of people selling T-shirts and touristy stuff, but there is a good amount of people selling really interesting handmade leather purses, gorgeous linens, beads, pottery... Our favorite part of the market is the antiques and home furnishings section, which we stumbled on by accident. If I had a ton of money, I'd definitely go back there and buy EVERYTHING, but it's not cheap, so I just looked.

Michelle, on the other hand, bought a really beautiful little glass, multi-leveled candelabra with lots of hanging pendants. It was originally 50 euro-- about 65 dollars-- but it had been marked down to only 19 euro. She bought it and deemed it her "distinctively Parisian purchase." But unfortunately, the story doesn't end there. We walked back to the metro, and Michelle got pushed into a metal pole. The candelabra broke into six pieces only minutes after she bought it. She's hopeful that it's fixable, but I'm really not so sure...

We decided to drown the sorrow over the broken candelabra in some quiche and beignets. HAHA! I swear, I ate more this weekend than I have in the ENTIRE three weeks I've been here, combined. After stuffing ourselves, we sat in front of a movie screen for two ours and let the adipose percolate. The film of choice was "La Rupture," or as my American friends call it, "The Breakup." I liked it because it didn't fit the traditional romantic comedy formula, but Michelle was not a fan. At least it gave us something to talk about.

We walked to Ile de Saint Louis, one of two islands in the Seine, where they sell the best ice cream and gelato in Paris. We each got two scoops-- I chose coconut and kiwi (the coconut was TO DIE FOR), and Michelle chose strawberry and yogurt flavor. TASTY.

We walked all over the island and saw many a chic boutique, and then we walked around the city for hours and hours and people-watched and talked, and Michelle fell in love with a French firefighter for about five minutes (long story, and this blog is getting long enough. Ask me if you're curious.) It was gay pride weekend and everything was crazy, so we decided to go back to the hotel. Plus, we were sooo tired from all of the day's events. I spent the night at the hotel, because Michelle agreed to accompany me to church the next morning (YAY!).

Which leads me to Sunday: I had been wanting to visit this English-speaking Protestant church comprising mostly Scottish people. We walked there the next morning, but as it turns out, we were an hour early. We chatted for a bit with a couple of the Scots (haha), and in the few minutes we were there, they invited us to join their choir, have tea and biscuits with them, and we met some of the church leadership. AS SOON AS we walked in the door! I really loved the vibe. HOWEVER-- Michelle and I were starving and we still had quite a while before the service was scheduled to begin, so we left to try to find a boulangerie where we could buy a pastry or something. We FULLY INTENDED TO COME BACK-- you all know how important it has been to me to find a church here-- but we got caught up in a really terrible rainstorm and had to take cover in the nearest metro, which didn't lead back to the church. I know, I'm terrible, but I am DEFINITELY going back there next week.

On the bright side, the metro DID lead to the Musée D'Orsay, and Michelle and I got to browse among thousands of GORGEOUS and soothing works of art. I LOVED the Musée D'Orsay, WAY more than the Louvre. One of my favorite painters of all time is Edgar Degas, and this museums houses a huge collection of his work. It also has a ton of Claude Monets, and since I just visited his home in Giverny, it was a little surreal. Overall, this museum is just a gentler, happier Louvre. The flow is better, and it's also pretty super awesome that the museum was converted from an old train station. LOVE IT.

We were approaching the hour of Michelle's departure, so we decided to have a goodbye lunch at none other than Chez MacDo, or McDonald's. I'm telling you, it's SOOO much better here.

Then she left. Sighhh... But it was a GREAT time, and I'm blessed to have GREAT friends. Thanks for reading this much. I know it was a long one...

Happy,

Kate

Sorry for the delay...

I've received complaints that it has been too long since I've updated. My sincerest apologies. I have two reasons for not blogging in several days:

1) The BFF, Michelle Enriquez, has been in Paris since Wednesday, and she and I have just been having too much fun to get on the computer. (YAY!)

2) My laptop, where I type all my blog entires, has eaten a CD and makes this annoying grinding noise now every time I turn it on. I basically can't STAND it, so I think I'll have to refrain from using Lappy until I can get him repaired in the States.

Anyway, as I tried to explain to my dad by email, I DEFINITELY didn't do anything to my computer to mess it up. I feel like that's beginning to be my motto... "I didn't do anything to it." It's a little enerving, actually. Things that I have not broken include: two digital cameras, an iPod, two voltage converters, and now perhaps a disk drive on an expensive Mac. Even I'm beginning to doubt myself. I mean, no one's luck is THAT bad, right?

Oh, I also blew out the circuits in two of the rooms in my host family's apartment.

Anyway, I WILL say that I've had an UNFORGETTABLE week here, and I may have found a good church! I'll explain soon... I don't want to monopolize the computer here (at my host family's apartment), so I may wait till I get to school tomorrow before I type it all up.

Until the next thing breaks...

Kate

Another Day in the Life

At the behest of my faithful readers (Mom), I’ve decided to devote a blog entry to my general daily happenings, in time-table form. This way you can all know just about EXACTLY what I’m doing and WHEN! YAYYY! (For the REAL stalkers, keep in mind that Paris time is seven hours later than Texas time.)

7h00: Wake up!

I sleep with my balcony doors wide open since there is no AC, and it’s usually quite pleasant. I have an alarm clock, but the sunlight typically wakes me up a couple of minutes before 7:00. (The balcony door thing is AWESOME except when mosquitos bite your face. However, a friend tells me she thinks they’re bed bug bites. For real. Just… ewww.)

7h45: Breakfast.

By this time I’m all showered and clothed, so I head downstairs for a yogurt and a piece of toast with butter and jam. The jam is some kind of fruit called Coisis, I think, and I have no idea what it is. Haha! I’ve probably been eating hair gel or something.

8h15: Leave the house.

Here begins my daily metro extravaganza. It’s gotten a little mundane lately, so I have begun to take different routes to get to school. I like to mix things up.

8h45: Arrive at Avenue du Maine.

It’s about a 15-minute walk to school from the nearest metro stop, and I usually like to get on the computer before classes begin. My school is on a little street called Rue Daguerre, and it has all kinds of cool little ethnic shops and an open market at the opposite end. Pretty fun stuff!

9h15: French class.

Not my favorite class, but it could be worse. We basically have at least two or three tests per week, and lots and lots of homework in between. My teacher is really nice, but she wants us to have an opinion about EVERYTHING, and sometimes it just doesn’t MATTER (e.g. I don’t really care if middle schoolers in France are required to memorize poetry.)

11h15: French class ends; 15 minute break.

I spend my breaks either on the computer (There’s WiFi in the garden! SWEET!), talking to friends, or sipping a beverage from the espresso/ hot chocolate machine. I don’t really like coffee, so I usually get hot chocolate or just hot milk.

11h30: France Contemporaine.

I’m taking an advanced culture class, which I actually find fascinating. It’s a good thing I like it too, because at this time of day, I start to get tired. Both of my courses are taught ONLY in French, and the profs don’t ease up on us by talking slowly or using easy words. You’ve got to be with it ALL THE TIME, which wears me out sometimes. But yeah, LOVE this class.

13h30: End of the school day!

At this point, my routine varies. Sometimes I go out to lunch with friends, but that can get a little expensive. My favorite thing to do, as it turns out, is just wander around with nice people. Katie and Anna and I can always find something with which to entertain ourselves. Today, for example, we rode the train to the Stade de France, the big stadium on the outskirts of the city. They have a huge movie screen set up there, and people just lay down on the soft grass and watch the World Cup. Today we watched Switzerland beat Togo. Fun time! Other days I just take walks, or go to the grocery store and just marvel at how different everything is. Last week some friends and I tried to find a flea market (sans success), but I always manage to find something interesting and amusing.

18h30: Back to the apartment.

I’m usually home by this time. I like to either clean my room or do my homework before dinner. I’m cool, I know.

20h00: Dinner.

On Tuesdays and Thursdays I eat with my host family, which is way fun. Other days I make a sandwich out of really good bread, cheese, and meat, or I go out with friends (EXPENSIVE), or I buy a little panini or something at a brasserie.

After that, it sort of depends! Sometimes I go out with peeps, sometimes I take walks by myself in one of the beautiful gardens nearby, sometimes I just come home and study. I lay out my clothes before I get in bed, and I’m usually asleep by midnight. I like to read my Bible before I fall asleep. I love getting into the Word when the city is finally quiet and my mind is at ease. And then I’m all the more prepared for another wonderful day…

Happy,

Kate

Joyeuse Fête de Pères!

Let me take this opportunity to tell you all that I have the greatest dad in the whole world. Thanks to him and to my mom, I am having the adventure of a lifetime! I am so blessed and so grateful to have him as an example of true selflessness.

I LOVE YOU, DAD!

Kate

Oh brother (and sister) in Christ, where art thou?

As I’ve written before, the “fellowship” aspect of my Christian walk is sorely lacking these days. I mean, REALLY. Before my departure, I thought I’d be okay with just the one-on-one God time in Paris, but as it turns out, fellowship really drives me. I THRIVE on interaction with other believers; we don’t even have to be deep into the Word, but the joy in their lives inspires me.

I woke up early this morning to worship at the American Church in Paris, an interdenominational, English-speaking church. The Web site tells me that the church was the first American church established on foreign soil, begun in 1814. The current chapel on the Quai D’Orsay (yes, right next to the Musée D’Orsay) was built in 1930, and it is SO ornate. It really rivals Notre Dame: GORGEOUS stained glass, intricate woodwork, and superb Gothic architecture.

Though entirely impressed with the church building, I was a little disappointed with the service. It was VERY, VERY formal (and at 2.5 hours with no A.C., it felt very, very LONG). It was so full of formal ceremonies, and they followed a really rigid agenda, and the pastor only spoke for a few minutes… I don’t know, it all felt a little sterile. I guess I was hoping for something more sincere and in-depth.

You know, I also happen to like it when church is FUN (whoa). It doesn’t HAVE to be a laugh fest all the time or anything; seriousness DEFINITELY has its place in the church. I take Christ’s gift of grace to me very seriously. But the love of our Lord for us is CERTAINLY something to REJOICE about! The Christian life is about living ABUNDANTLY, which in my mind means it’s okay to crack a smile once in a while. I don’t think many people I was worshiping with got the memo.

There was this one neat part during the service when the pastor was trying to baptize this baby, and the baby’s mother was holding him (the baby, not the pastor), and the little guy would NOT stop crying. Then as soon as the pastor held the baby and began to pray over him, he instantly stopped crying. I don’t know, I thought that was cool.

Less neat was the time I mistook the formal “Peace be with you” ceremony as “Say ‘hi’ to your neighbor” time. Apparently I was just supposed to know that when the pastor said “Now greet others with peace” and motioned for us to rise, I wasn’t ACTUALLY supposed to greet them. I turned to the austere Asian man to my left, stuck out my hand, and said loudly, “GOOD MORNING, I’m Katie!” to which he merely said, “Peace be with you,” and shook my hand really timidly and loosely, like I was Germ Queen or something. I mean, I guess he said something really nice, but I felt like I had been dissed. And it didn’t help that EVERYONE around me decided to then glare at the loud girl (me) who didn’t know that “Greet others” didn’t actually mean “Greet others.”

Also, if I ever start a church, I will never, EVER do the “New people stand so everyone can stare at you” ritual. I HATE it when churches do that! I’m sure whoever came up with that idea had the best of intentions, and it would work well if church members actually did come up and welcome you after the service, but in my experience, no one ever does.

So alas, the church search continues. It will be really easy to say “Eh, I’m only here for three more Sundays, is it really that important to go to church?” so if you don’t mind, pray that I’ll stick with it. And pray that I’ll be successful and find a vibrant church in Paris.

Peace be with you,

Kate

I have a mosquito bite on my face.

I sleep with my balcony doors open, and a moustique (mosquito in French) came in while I was sleeping and bit me RIGHT on my cheek. It’s huge, it’s red, and it itches.

And YES it’s a mosquito bite. Psh.

Kate

Westie deNial Virus

(Basically I just felt like making a pun there, but yes, France has denied me its Westies. Additionally, I know that "Nile," as in "West Nile Virus," is not spelled "Nial." But "denial" has an "a" in it... and I had to choose one word to spell wrong.)

*** This just in: Puns are way less funny when you have to explain them.

I am the partial-owner of the greatest living creature on the planet, a White West Highland Terrier named Jackson. Westies are the most delightful animals, and I generally have the same personality as a Westie: stubborn, determined, but still gentle and almost always enthusiastic (with the occasional mood swings).

Out of the hundreds and hundreds of dogs I see every day, up until today I had only seen one Westie since I got here, and that was while I was looking out a bus window!

But FINALLY, thank the LORD, I passed a Westie on the street today. French dogs don’t ever wear leashes; they just follow their owners. But THIS French dog was wearing a leash, and I knew why! Without a leash, that Westie would have just followed his nose, not his owner; that’s how Westies roll, they don’t let people boss them around.

I ended up practically shouting for joy when I saw him, and I asked the owner (in French, booyah) if I could take a picture of the Westie. Our conversation went a little something like this:

Me: AGH! Can I take a picture of your dog? I have the same type of dog, but he’s in the United States, and I miss him!

Dog’s owner: Uhhhh…

And meanwhile I proceeded to snap three pictures. You can see them here:

WESTIE!!! (Copy and Paste the URL)

http://utexas.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2092987&l=7142c&id=7908530

Three Days-o-Fun

All my days in Paris are fun (except for when I make the occasional depressed blog post, and even then it’s not so bad), but the past three days have been ESPECIALLY fun.

Thursday morning I had my first test, which wasn’t totally awesome, but I think I did well. But Thursday NIGHT I went out to celebrate Taylor’s 21st birthday. We went to her favorite bar, and GUESS WHAT?! The bartender graduated four years ago from the greatest school on the planet, the University of Texas at Austin! He grew up in Austin, so we had plenty to talk about. Don’t get me wrong: there wasn’t a love connection (I’m pretty sure I could never have a love connection with a bartender), but it was REALLY refreshing to talk to someone who knew something about the land that I love (Texas).

(I like parentheses.)

I called it a night pretty early since I was far away from my apartment and the metros start to shut down shortly after midnight, but it really was a good time.

Then FRIDAY I went to Giverny in Normandie! It was SUCH a blast. That’s where Claude Monet lived and was inspired to paint his magnificent oeuvres, and believe it or not, his glorious scenic paintings pale in comparison to the actual living beauty in the gardens there. I took pictures, but WOW, I wish you could have been there.

See pictures of Giverny: (Copy and Paste the URL)

http://utexas.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2092981&l=c5391&id=7908530


We also saw a museum of American art, and as much as I love museums, I was pretty tired by that point. It was an action-packed excursion from 8:00 a.m. to 6:30 p.m.

But the day didn’t end there! It was Katie Ramsey’s birthday, so Anna Ziemer, Katie and I went to have a picnic on a grassy knoll next to the Seine. Anna and I had gotten Katie a chocolate cake, and together we ate the whole thing! Yikes.

I’d like to think we walked it off afterwards though. We strolled through the city for hours just taking it all in, even stumbling upon a music festival. Anna and I swing danced for a minute, because we’re both pretty awesome.

See pictures from Katie’s birthday night: (Copy and Paste the URL)

http://utexas.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2092977&l=cac59&id=7908530

We wanted to see a movie, but it was late and there were no more showings. We all decided to rendezvous the next day (Saturday) for a shopping marathon-slash-movie extravaganza.

So today we met at the Paris Opera House at noon and began to squander away our fortunes. I bought two dresses, a tank top, some accessories, and some little gifts for family and stuff.

Oh, we also ate at McDonalds (on weekends I’m allowing myself to do American stuff), which all three of us agreed is better here than it is in the U.S. No offense, America! I still love you more.

Afterwards we saw Sophia Coppola’s “Marie Antoinette.” It was a little surreal, because we were watching a movie about France, filmed with English-speaking actors, subtitled in French, and the movie was surprisingly very pro- the French monarchy, which the French people detest. The movie made the proletariat look like a buncha whiney babies, which may go over well stateside, but it’s doubtful that the message will resonate here…

But anyway, many funs were had.

Thank you for reading! I know this was a long one. Y’all are great. :-)

Missing you,

Kate

You've got mail!

Today I'm participating in a whirlwind celebration for all of the June babies I'm studying with (there was a birthday yesterday, there's one today, and my new good friend Katie has one tomorrow). We're about to head to a café for a late lunch, then we're shopping, getting ready, and going to Odèon, the student district, for some birthday craziness. Basically that's a very extended way of saying I only have a moment to post.

But I have three pieces of news: I got my first real letter today! Gold star for Philip Roy. Thanks, dude; I'll write you back as soon as I buy some paper (haha). It really made my day to get a letter! WOOT!

There was another envelope in my inbox this morning, and that's my second piece of news: I, along with eight of my fellow classmates, won a trivia contest! My prize is an awesome ticket to the ballet at Salle Richelieu next Wednesday! They're going to be performing one of Molière and Lully's comédie ballets, and I'll be in the first balcony. Quelle chance! I have an excuse to wear the fancy dress that I brought. And yes, you can expect PLENTY of pictures.

And the FINAL piece of news: I was scared that I was going to have to be out of town on my birthday for work, but I just found out I'm not leaving until July 20, the day AFTER my birthday. Who wants to come to my party? ;-)

Okay, they're leaving me. I gotta run, but thanks for reading! More to come.

Kate

P.S. Tomorrow I'm going to Giverny for the day, in Normandie. I'll make sure to take plenty of pictures for you World War II buffs (Dad).

Comments, s’il vous plait?

NB: I wanted to put these entries up last night, but my host mom has developed a severe addiction to the show "24," or "Vingt-Quatre," and she watches it on the computer ALL THE TIME. Sorry for the delay...

All righty, mes chers (my dears), I’ve just posted three entries that were waiting in the wings. FYI: I just about LIVE for comments. If you comment on my blog (or for those of you who have facebook, if you comment on my photos), I’ll love you forever.

A big thanks goes out to Brad, Meeme, Dayton, Monica, and the lovely laboheme, aka Stephanie Ballard, for commenting on my blog (and for many of you, on my photos as well). Thanks also to Michael, Steph Cosmas, and Brett for commenting on my facebook photos. Je vous remercie!!! Y’all rock, and keep them coming!

MORE Photos! (Copy and Paste the URL)

Scenery!

http://utexas.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2091510&l=eac49&id=7908530


Ma famille francaise!

http://utexas.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2091512&l=516fa&id=7908530


(There's one more new photo album link in the post entitled "French-sational.")

Il fait CHAUD (in hurrrr)…

Okay, I just re-read my last post, and I SWEAR I’m not depressed. I’m basically the luckiest girl in the world to be in PARIS learning French, I have a WONDERFUL host family, and I get the impression I’m pretty well liked at school (go figure). I wake up each morning with the sun shining in from my open balcony doors, I get ready, and when I walk to my metro stop I pass five different flower shops and fruit stands, as well as one classic little French patisserie (pastry shop). The smells, the colors, EVERYTHING: incredible.

If I gave you the impression that I was having a tough time (which I’m not), here are some real horror stories for you:

My friend Elisabeth has been pretty much locked in her bedroom at her homestay since she arrived in Paris. Her host mother told her that she’s only allowed to leave her room to use the bathroom and go to class. Okay, I’ve BEEN in her room, and it’s about half the size of a SMALL dorm room. She’s a prisoner in her own home(stay), and the poor thing never wants to go home after school! La pauvre! [UPDATE: I just heard from Elisabeth that she’s moving! It was THAT BAD!]

Another friend, Ann, has a host mother who sends her to bed at 8:00 p.m. (20h00) each night and locks the door. I kid you not: She has to go to her room right after dinner.

Yet another, Sophie, was told by her family that she’s only allowed to run water between 8:00 p.m. and 10:00 p.m. Not just shower… RUN WATER. Meaning they can’t flush toilets, and if she wants to brush her teeth in the morning, she has to use bottled water.

So I’m a very lucky, very happy girl. :-)

The only thing is… France is experiencing a rare heat wave. I’m TOLD it’s rare, even though when I was in Paris three years ago, it was blisteringly hot. Anyway, everyone is basically dripping with sweat by the time we step outside. It was bright and sunny and beautiful when I arrived, and it was only 70 degree F each day. But since Saturday, it’s been in the very high 90s, and with all the walking I do, and the time I spend in the humid metro, it’s disgusting.

The beauty of it is: There’s supposed to be a huge thunderstorm tonight! It’s gonna cool down a lot after that, and then my beautiful, pleasant Paris will be back.

YAY!

Kate

A week without hugs

I felt a bit homesick one evening last week after writing my Father’s Day card. It was the first time I had really missed home, and I got kind of mad at myself. I mean, aren’t I supposed to have this insatiable sense of adventure? Why then, for a moment, did I want to be back in San Antonio, Texas, the place I’ve lived all my life? I’ve been in Paris less than a week! But the truth is, I have a really great dad, and it’s ok to miss him—even when I’m having the time of my life.

In France, nobody hugs their friends. If two women (or two men) hug, it means they’re homosexual. It’s been a week since I’ve been hugged. I know that sounds lame and pity-partyish, but I sort of thrive on hugs from my mama!

Maybe I’m just in a bad mood tonight… but it’s also easy for me to see how France is such a godless country. The family I live with is really religious, which is refreshing, and the 14-year-old is in some kind of Catholic Girl Scouts, and they’re really cute. But for the most part, everyone just focuses on themselves and on the art of living well.

I really wanted to go to church this morning, but my family had some sort of special private service in the evening, and I was too scared to go to church by myself (especially since pretty much all of the churches are Catholic, and I’m not used to that). I’ve already determined to visit the American Church next Sunday, even though it’s really far away.

Quiet times are wonderful and rejuvenating and fulfilling, but I’m beginning to realize how important real fellowship is in the Christian walk. I have yet to find a strong believer in my group… Like I wrote before, it seems all everyone wants to talk about is drinking.

Okay, this post is a downer. I swear I’m having an incredible time, and I feel so blessed to be here. I really have made wonderful friends already in the short time that I’ve been here, and according to the directrice at my school, these occasional slumps are normal when adapting to a new culture. The dogs that are on every corner will suddenly become a nuisance rather than a quaint curiosity, and Paris’ crazy drivers will just become annoying rather than hilarious.

But for now, I just want a hug.

Playing my little violin,

Kate

French-sational

There are so many funny little quirks in French culture: never put salty things and sweet things on the same plate. Never turn a baguette “scored-side-down.” Never, EVER talk about the cost of things.

I need to find out if the French have a funny custom about sleeping in, because this morning I slept till 10:00 a.m. I probably just offended someone terribly, who knows. But on the bright side, I THINK I’m all caught up on my sleep—NO MORE JETLAG!!! I’ve been taking naps at the strangest times, totally by accident, and I have a feeling that craziness all stops today. It’s a good thing too, because I always feel so ashamed walking downstairs on a weekday at 3:00 p.m. (15h00 here in France) rubbing my eyes. My sweet host mom always asks me “Tu dors encore?” (Were you sleeping again?)

I think it’s gotten really bad, because she asks me that about three times a day now. I’m such a paresseuse! (lazy girl)

I’ve decided that last night (Friday) and today (Saturday), it’s ok for me to be a tourist. Normally I pride myself on being a French chameleon, blending in with the locals. I LOVE it when American or English tourists come up to me trying to ask for directions or something in French (It really happens more than you’d think). I just say, “It’s ok, I speak English,” and when they are visibly relieved, I sort of light up inside. “They mistook me for a Parisienne!!!” Ahhhh, what a feeling.

I can understand their confusion. After all, I’m pretty awesome with my little cardigans, chic flats (ESSENTIAL for all of the walking I have to do), huge tote (all the French women carry them), my metro pass and my decisive gait.

But last night I caved and went on a dinner cruise on the Seine with a bunch of friends. It’s SOOO touristy—but we had such a great time. Good food and great views of the Eiffel Tower and all of the cool bridges. Then afterwards, a few of us went to the Louvre and played in the gardens. I’m pretty sure we desecrated several statues and monuments… but a good time was had by all (except the statues and monuments).

SEE PICTURES HERE: (Copy and Paste the URL)

http://utexas.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2091515&l=eef7c&id=7908530


Then today, after sleeping late, I met some friends at the Eiffel Tower and we took a tour of Paris on one of those big double-decker buses. SUCH a fun time! I thought of Stephanie Ballard and Julianna Parker about a bajillion times, because I revisited all of the places the three of us went together three years ago (Wow, has it really been that long?!). Then I thought of Mary Box because we stopped outside the opera house for a long time, and I’m pretty sure Mary needs to grace those opera folks with her musical stylings.

After two of my new friends and I wandered around town for HOURS on foot, I was so exhausted. A whole bunch of my peeps (or as we say in France, “Le Peeps” … ok, no we don’t) went out to the bars, but I was worn out from walking a marathon, so I skipped it. Instead I came home and took a shower, and I just finished watching “Charlie et la Chocolaterie” with my host brother.

Speaking of the bars, I think I’m a lame-o. Yeah. I’m really not all that excited about alcohol! I had a glass of wine at a café my first day here, and I had champagne with my host family at dinner once (they toasted my arrival), but that’s it. Maybe it's true that what happens in Paris, stays in Paris, but I’d rather just play it safe.

All right, this is turning out to be an incredibly long post, so I’m gonna call it a night.

Au revoir from gaie Paris, y’all!

Kate

I Speak English... Wall Street English!

I’ve decided to devote an entire blog post to the metro, since it’s such a huge part of Paris. First of all, let me remind you that I pretty much love all forms of transportation. I love being driven somewhere, whether it’s a friend driving me or the shuttle buses at school or an airplane or whatever. It relaxes me, kinda like how some babies calm down when they go for car rides.

So naturally, at first I LOVED the metro here. I ride it at least four times a day, and I’d just sit in one of the little seats and unwind and people-watch. Then I discovered that if you make eye contact with a Frenchman, even by accident, he thinks you want to talk to him. Then he annoys you. Then he follows you.

So ok, no more people-watching. Got it. I’ve taken a page out of the Frenchwomen’s book and started bringing reading material on the metro (pun intended) so that I can avoid eye contact.

Yesterday, there was a metro strike. The metros stay open until 1 a.m., but French people stay out way later than that much of the time, so there is a lot of pressure for the people who run the metros to keep them open till 2 a.m. Well, the train operators do NOT like that idea, so they refused to work yesterday between 10 a.m. and 4 p.m. But after 4 p.m. I guess they felt guilty, so the metro was free. Doesn’t matter to me, because I have a month pass and I can ride it whenever I want.

Well, apparently that mattered to some people though, and everyone was packed into the cars like sardines. STANDING. I was riding with two friends, and we all had these horrified looks on our faces when we got out of the metro. Finally one of the girls asked, “Did you just, like, get molested in there?” Both the other girl and I said, “YES!” Let me put it this way: Frenchmen like to touch, and crowded metro cars seem to give them an excuse to do that. Of course, I won’t be riding the metro again when it’s that full. I’d rather walk two hours than subject myself to that kind of torture.

This morning I was taking my usual metro route to school (Ligne 9, direction Mairie de Montreuil; Ligne 10, direction Gare D’Austerlitz; Ligne 6, direction Nation; Ligne 13 Chatillon – Montrouge), and I realized I had left my book at home. I started reading the posters on the car walls to avoid looking at people. There was this one HUGE POSTER that—and maybe it’s just been too long since I’ve laughed really hard—but it cracked me UP.

It was an advertisement for some school that teaches French people English. The line at the top said “Parlez-vous Anglais?” [Do you speak English?] And then underneath that was this picture of this grody-looking, greasy, slicked-back, tight jeans-wearing Frenchman throwing the thumbs up, and there was a word bubble right beside him that read “I Speak English… Wall Street English!”

Hahahahahahaha!

Kate

Kate: She's just like us!

In the spirit of US Weekly's ''Celebrities: They're just like us!'' wherein we're supposed to be amazed that celebrities buckle their seatbelts and eat pizza (you know, just like us), I've created an album to show you what a day in the life of Kate in Paris is like... so far.

View my photos HERE (Copy and Paste):

http://utexas.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2089364&l=02d1a&id=7908530

Kate

Some interesting things...

* The French NEVER put their bread on a plate. It's considered rude. You are supposed to eat the bread on the table, slice it on the table, and everything, because in the Middle Ages the bread WAS the plate, and it's sort of showing respect for the past. Weird, huh???

* The French rarely refrigerate their milk! It Fahhh-REAKED me out at first, but I asked the directrice at IES and she said that the milk is soooo uber-pasteurized that it really doesn't need to be refrigerated that often. They boil it like a billion times. The de Larminats drink what I think would be 2 percent milk. You can get skim, and I might ask if she would mind buying some. Apparently other host families have asked the students what they want from the grocery store. Mine haven't, but the directrice said that I've already paid them, so I should feel free to tell them what I want. Hmm! I dunno about that.

* I'm beginning to miss my dog, Jackson. It's hard not to when there are dogs like him EVERYWHERE! They aren't white-- they are honey-colored, but they look EXACTLY like him! My host mother and I were taking a walk and I mentioned to her that there were SO many dogs everywhere, and she was like (in French), "Ugh, yes, it's such a problem." I just nodded, but secretly I loved it! And none of them wear leashes, they just walk right alongside their owners. Awww.

Kate

Randomonium

Can you BELIEVE we got Al Zarqawi?! Quelles bonnes nouvelles!!! USA, USA... !

I have been having SOOOO much trouble with adaptors. I bought an adaptor from Best Buy before I left so that my US appliances, computer charger, etc. would work in French outlets. Well, it doesn't work at ALL. There was no way for me to test it "aux Etats-Unis," so I found out as soon as I got here. My computer was going on VERY little battery, and then I discovered that one of my friends from class bought one and then found another one in her house, but she brought both, so for 30 Euros she sold me the one she bought (She had bought it for 40 bucks in the U.S.). BUT-- get this-- IT didn't work EITHER! I tested the outlet to make sure it wasn't a problem with the electricity or something, and my host "father" tried to help. He said the other students that they have hosted in the past didn't have a problem. MREGH!

So I just went to the French Best Buy, which is called Darty, and I bought an adapter there for 30 Euros. And guess what? It WORKS! YAYYYYY! And it's pretty deluxe. You can use it in 150 countries... I just am glad it works HERE!

And the salesman at Darty told me I speak very good French! YAY YAY!

I feel like I am learning to speak better French-- we had to sign a contract with the study abroad affiliate saying that we would ONLY speak French on the IES premises, even with our classmates. I'm DEFINITELY understanding better. Each day feels like I'm making a big improvement. At first it felt like everyone talked SOOOOO fast, but now I'm catching on!

I can see how the French are so fit. The portions are TEENY TINY, and though they eat a lot of butter and stuff, they walk so much! And they don't snack, which has been a bit of an adjustment for me. They ONLY eat three meals a day.

Last night my host "mother" went to a hen party, and the girls (Eugenie, 20, and Sophie, 14) and I ate the French equivalent of "Totino's Party Pizza" or something, you know, just a quick frozen meal. But get this... it was CORDON BLEU! Haha! They just heated it up, and it was DELICIOUS. SO GOOD.

Okay, I have my first language class in a few minutes, so I better go. I already took my culture class, and after I finish for the day, I'll update on what I think of school here.

Love and miss you!

Kate

School time!

I'm sitting in my very first class right now! I'll update later... I think I'm typing loud.

STAY TUNED!

Kate

P.S. Good news! I found another toilet in my homestay. Hahaha.

Le Premier Jour

***NB: Below you will find three blog posts that have been waiting in the wings until I was able to get Internet access. If you manage to read all of these lengthy entries, you are a true friend! If you DON'T... well, I won't go there. OH, and leave me tons of comments! Miss y'all already!

[6 juin 2006; 19h00]

And I’ve arrived! The creepily-friendly Englishman that sat next to me on the plane offered to share a cab with me because his hotel is close by where my host family lives. Thanks to him, I made it to my destination on only 25 euros, though people had warned me it would cost me nearly 100. That’s a good start!

After riding up four flights in a perilously small elevator, I found the “flat” of my hosts. I always thought a flat was only one story (hence, the “flat” part), but this apartment is HUGE and has two stories. I have my own wing of the upstairs, complete with a desk, balcony, armchair, a large armoire for storing my clothes and a salle de bain with a shower and sink. For the large size of the apartment, it’s a bit surprising to me that there is only ONE toilet for all six of us to share. Three or four showers, but only one toilet. I’ve read that the French value privacy SO MUCH, but with only one toilet, honoring privacy may become a bit difficult.

Upon my arrival to the flat, my host “mother” welcomed me in and asked if I’d like to have lunch with her and one of her daughters, Eugenie. We all had some really tasty broiled steaks and an endive salad. They LOVED the gifts I brought them, and they were even nice about the Texas wine, which I was sure they would hate.

Eugenie is my age, and while she is in Paris for the summer vacation she is working at a supermarket about a mile away. It’s not just a grocery store… It’s sort of like a Target with more food. They have EVERYTHING. I’m probably going to go shopping there for my school supplies tomorrow.

Inès, the mother, gave me a tour of the subway. She’s being really generous with her time and trying to make sure I’m comfortable. She speaks very little English, so when I am struggling to remember how to say something, there have already been a couple of times when we’ve just thrown up our hands as if to say “forget it.” Overall, though, they’re being really patient with me as I adjust. I’m DEFINITELY going to speak WAY better French by the time I leave. I already feel like I’m absorbing it pretty quickly!

And my “O” key on my keyboard just broke off. Fabulous. Just what you would expect from a five-month-old computer! (Not)

I went shoe shopping with Inès this afternoon, then we picked up Sophie, the 14-year-old, from school. I came home and watched “LOST: Les Disparus” with Felix, the 17-year-old. It was HILARIOUS to see Locke and Sawyer speaking French!

Speaking of hilarious, when Inès drove us to le banlieu to pick up Sophie, you’ll never guess what was playing on the radio: “Great Balls of Fire” – in FRENCH! I laughed and said something to Inès about how funny it sounded, and I think she was offended. Oops.

I also watched part of the French Open on TV, which was a little bizarre since it’s literally taking place just around the corner from where I’m living.

Anyway, it’s been a good first day. I’ve got about another hour before dinner, and after that, I’m pretty sure I’m going to be ready for bed. I’m not all that tired, but since I haven’t slept for… close to 30 hours, I’m just starting to feel a smidge mooky.

Tomorrow is my first day of class! AMAZINGLY, the de Larminats have a computer AND Internet in their home—VERY RARE for French families. However, since I’ve typed all these entries on my laptop and there is no wireless, I’ll just wait till I get to school tomorrow to publish them on my blog.

A demain,

Kate

P.S. There are roosters walking around all over the sides of the road! Not so much in the busier areas, but they’re definitely around! How stereotypically French is that? There were also bunnies all over the airport.

P.P.S. Even though I love blue jeans, I only brought one pair because I’ve been told that the French don’t wear blue jeans. Uh, truth is: everyone wears them. Including my way cool French family. Jeans and tennis shoes! Ha.

P.P.P.S. I think I fixed my “O” key.

On a Jet Plane...

[5 juin, 2006; 4h50]

I hope that I never get tired of airports. Going to the airport is such a thrill for me, I feel like a wide-eyed little kid every time I enter one (which isn’t often enough). I love them. They always have an ice cream shop, smoothie stands, pretzels, cheesy gift shops… And for a self-proclaimed “people-watcher” like me, they provide hours of free entertainment. Well, free if you don’t count the price of the ticket you had to buy to get you in there.

I’m on the plane to Paris right now, and we’re soaring over the Allegheny Mountains at 10,668 meters, according to the monitor in front of me. To my left sits an overwhelmingly friendly Briton who has already bought me a champagne, and has offered since then to buy me a bottle of red wine and a cup of Irish coffee (I’ve politely refused… Not looking to get drunk on the first day of my European adventure).

I’m at the window seat, and my friend from the U.K. has the aisle. We’re in a three-seat row, but the seat between us is empty. A woman was sitting between us, but she had a panic attack right before we took off… now Marty (the Briton) and I are riding comfy.

I’ve just enjoyed a tidy little airplane meal: lasagna, Cesar salad, Milano cookies, a roll, and BUTTER—my favorite. I think Jerry Seinfeld has a routine about how fascinating airplane food is, and though he’s joking, I think he really is onto something. It’s SO EFFICIENT! Everything is so perfectly packaged. When I grow up, get married, and have kids, I think I’d like to serve all of our meals in those nifty little containers on those inspiring metal trays…

Or maybe just not.

For our in-flight entertainment, the crew played he movie “Firewall” with Harrison Ford. Pretty intense. Bradley and Dayton, I hope you realize how important those computer networking skills are! (And watch out… I hear Paul Bettany has an SKS with your names on it.)

I think next I’m going to watch “Failure to Launch” with Matthew McConaughey and Sarah Jessica Parker. Most of you know, I’m not usually a romantic comedy type of gal, but I actually sort of want to immerse myself in something mindless for a little bit. Maybe I’m sleepy.

It’s 4:50 a.m. in Paris right now, and with the seven-hour time difference, that makes it 9:50 p.m. in good ol’ Texas.

I’m HOMESICK!!!

Jk. ;-)

A Paris,

Kate

La vie en Rose

[June 5, 2006; 2:00 p.m.]

My faithful readers have been guilt-tripping me about my lack of dedication to the blog (Mom), but let me assure you: It’s not for a lack of enthusiasm. Something has clicked within the past few weeks, and all I can think about is Paris. I’m sitting in the “beautiful” San Antonio International Airport right now, only about 15 hours away from setting my ballet slipper-clad feet in the City of Lights.

Let me update you on what’s been going on since the last time I added to the blog. About two weeks ago, my French “family,” with whom I will be staying for six weeks, sent me an email. They are AMAZING; they love me and I love them! They are called the de Larminats, and they live in the 16th arrondisement, which is known as the upscale, “BCBG” part of Paris. Très chic!| Their apartment is REALLY close to the Eiffel Tower and right next to the Seine. A French professor I babysit for in Austin tells me that I really lucked out with this family.

I’ve been gradually packing my suitcase over the past several weeks, and it looks like I may have overdone it: Continental Airlines just charged me $25.00 dollars extra for having a “HEAVY” bag (My suitcase now sports a bright orange tag so everyone can know how high-maintenance I am).

It’s hard to believe I’m merely hours away from arriving in the city of which I’m so enamored. Of course, I have to take classes (It’s pretty much the only way I could get my AMAZING parents to foot the bill—thanks again, Dad!), but I’m most excited about the adventure that will inevitably come my way. While I’m in Europe, my fellow classmates and I plan to visit Germany (World Cup!), Italy, London, and Spain, staying in hostels along the way. Personally, I just can’t wait to sift through baubles and fabrics at the Paris flea market, or eat a croissant on a bench next to the Seine River, writing about how the “swirling sky above resembles iridescent fish scales, like the ones at the poissonnerie in Montparnasse.” That may not sound thrilling to some of you, but it’s my own kind of adventure.

Bisous!

Kate