A few months late, but still...

I don't really have anything important to say. School is sucking my lifeblood, Paris is springy, and so on and so forth. The ability of French academia to piss me off is an eternal mystery to me, but I've figured out that profs just don't care about the students. They yell at them and few are helpful, and not one is warm and welcoming. Oh, and they also randomly don't show up for class, without posting a note or sending out an email (oh, but since there's no collective email system for French universities, that would be too hard to do in the first place, so nevermind that). Anyways, this morning, when our professor committed this heinous crime against studentity, my friend and I bitched about it while enjoying giant crèmes in a café down the street. Crèmes are really one of the best things ever. Between that and air conditioning, I'm not really sure which one wins. We meant to get work done while waiting for our ass-raping of a translation exam at 2, but of course that didn't happen. Instead, we reminisced about TV shows and fights with friends, particularly one incident in which a friendship ended because of movie-going arrangements. And it got me thinking about things...

Well, I'm always thinking about things, but it reminded me of all the times I was not only a bitch (stop laughing, I know that's a lot), but a bitch for no reason. Or a horrible person for no reason. Or just those times when I should have kept my mouth shut or should have not done something I unfortunately did. And I really feel bad about all those little things. People may or may not have forgotten them by now, and the offended probably don't read this, but for them, and for everyone I've unfairly been a bitch to, please accept my apologies.
1. Cortney (even though there's no possible way she'll see this): I'm sorry for screwing up the "Secret buddies/sisters" game senior year of field hockey. I like to attribute it to my awkward phase, but I've since learned that it wasn't really so much a phase as my actual, permanent personality.
2. Ally: I'm sorry for being a heinous bitch all the time and starting shit when I shouldn't have. And I'm sorry for not being better with keeping in touch. And I'm really sorry for that one time I said that thing you specifically asked me not to, and during that huge "conflict resolution" type-thing, saying something else just as stupid. I think we were all a little on edge about stuff, but I really didn't mean any harm, and I'm sorry.
3. Nina: I'm sorry for taking the flower you caught at Medieval Times at my 11th birthday party and telling you my dog ate it (which, for those of you not involved, is a totally legitimate explanation for a missing flower). And I'm sorry for not mentioning that at all for the past twelve years. It's not a big deal, but I've felt horrible about it this whole time. You were so happy when you got that flower, and I had to be a selfish brat and take it.
4. Katherine: I am SO sorry about that ridiculous thing I wrote a couple of years ago when we were on JYA. I don't even know why I wrote it, but I think I was just looking for something to bitch about, and that coffee date happened to be the last thing that happened before I got home. I've also felt really horrible about this since it happened, because you are a cool girl and didn't deserve that kind of trash-talk, and I really do think that we could have been better friends had I not been so self-centered and gossiping. Also, I really envy your ability to wear dresses with belts (all asking-for-forgiveness aside, it's true).

It would have been convenient to post that at the beginning of the year, or wait until it becomes a step to recovery - let's hope it never comes to that - but I just wanted to get it off my chest now. I think it's going to be a rough summer, and I think I'd like to get a head start on letting go of some of my baggage. Figuratively, of course, because gym memberships here are 600 euros a year and there's no way I can fight the boulangerie temptation. There are some things you just can't ask a girl to do.

Now for some randomness: I really want this or this, and how cool would you be if you went walking amongst intelligentsia wearing this? (pictures below)


Pretty cool, huh? Nerdy, of course, but cool. If you didn't know what it actually was, you'd just think it was pretty, shiny, design-y jewelry. Because, well, that's what it is. Anyways, I'll just add it to my list of materialistic things I'd like but cannot have. Ugh. On the bright side, I think I found some place to go study that isn't the library or the café down the street with the ornery waitstaff! I'll elaborate later, as I should probably go visit before I confirm that hypothesis. That's all for now, folks. Back to the grindstone.

(TOTAL sidenote: I have no fucking idea what's going on upstairs, but it is either World War III or a massive orgy involving sqweegees. Also, I just heard my neighbor orgasm. Not the one upstairs; the one next door. Seriously, I'm starting to think I live in a brothel.)

Sláinte!

Is it possible to die of a chlorophyll overdose? Because I just ate a lot of green beans. I mean, a LOT. More green beans than any one person should physically be able to eat in one sitting. So if my skin mysteriously turns green tomorrow, like that guy who turned blue because of his medication, that will be why. But can you blame me? They were so delicious and fresh and... delicious!

Anyways, speaking of green things, spring is here! It was sixty degrees outside yesterday! I forced myself out of the apartment to go in search of a couple of plays I need for my essay, which of course were nowhere to be found. At least it got me out of the apartment, because I spent the rest of the day toiling away inside so I could justify going out to celebrate St. Patrick's Day. We went to this Irish place (there are probably a thousand pubs in Paris) in Saint Germain, and I didn't realize till I got inside that I had, in fact, been there before and that I had, unfortunately, puked there before. (I confirmed this when I went to the bathroom and ended up in the same famous stall I barely made it into before hurling on the blue-tiled floor.) It was just as crowded and hot, but not as smoky, as I remembered it. You will not be at all surprised to know that I had a Guinness, but you probably will be surprised to know that I a)finished it to the last drop and b)was the first one done! Seriously, it was an historic night. And on top of that, when we left to find another bar that actually had some vacant seats, I had yummy sangria, and I didn't get sick! I know, I'm still in disbelief.

So at this bar, I had a very classic Allison Superiority Complex Moment. There were five of us, and we were sitting in the corner next to a LOUD group of Americans - undergrads, of course, which we all spotted the minute we sat down. I guessed from the uniform hairstyles, fake tans, Blackberries and Lacoste shirts that they were from New Jersey, or at least some place on the East Coast, which they were (NJ and Philly). One of the guys asked me where we were all from, and that started a short conversation, but when it got to where we went to school, and one of the girls replied that she had a lot of friends in "our program," I had to specify that we were grad students, thus implying that we actually live here and aren't just "abroad" and really do speak the language and aren't just interested in going to bars and picking up scrawny, sketchy Frenchmen in glasses with horrible taste in music. I know, I know, don't be judgmental, Allison. You were there too once. Ok, but I was never loud and obnoxious in tiny bars where you get elbowed in the ass as you try to get back to your seat and can tell what religion some guy is just by brushing up against him as you find your way through the throng of drunkards sipping sangria. I never once uttered (read: yelled) the phrase "OH MY GOD I'M SO DRUNK!" or "Oh, everyone has Blackberries these days, even in France." For the record: I have seen maybe three non-American people with Blackberries or Blackberry-like objects in Paris.

Also, what is it with 35-year-old men hitting on 20-year-old co-eds? Gross. My friend and I were waiting by the jukebox while her boyfriend was in the bathroom, and this guy (please refer back to description of picking up guys in bars) came up to us, thinking he was being real smooth, and feigned ignorance as to how the jukebox worked. Please. A chimp with no eyes could figure that one out. My friend said something to him, to which he replied in English, so I thought I would be a bitch and keep talking in French, because - well, just read that whole last paragraph again. I really do hate being confused with junior year abroad kids who are just there to drink wine and get laid. Anyways, he thought I was French, which was pretty cool. And then he ignored me and kept hitting on my friend. When her boyfriend got back, he pretty much ditched us and went for the AUP kids (American University of Paris), and the only other thing he said to me was "You make line?" when I was waiting for the bathroom. Yes, motherfucker, on fait la queue. You can practice your English with kids that don't speak French. Jackass.

Tonight is our hopefully triumphant return to Pub Quiz. I haven't been for about a month, with my dad visiting and midterms and whatnot. I'm looking forward to forgetting about school for a while and hanging out with cool people, and maybe, just maybe, finishing another pint of Guinness. Or two. But let's not get too crazy there. I may just have to keep to my usual cider and call it a night.

Getting into the swing of things

So, funny story. There's this water problem in my building, where some of the pipes on my side drip within the walls, causing the paint to peel and chip. It's kind of gross, but I've lived in worse conditions, and honestly, if that's the worst thing about my apartment, I consider myself lucky. Anyways, they've been doing work on the building all week, and my landlord said he would come by this morning at 9, or just after they cut off the water, to fix everything. Naturally, I expected him at 9:15 or 9:30. Hence my surprise when he showed up at 8:35 ready to start working. It figures, the one day I actually need every minute of my morning, my landlord decides to be uncharacteristically French and be early, which is actually considered rude here. But that's not even the rude part.

I came back tonight and found the corner of my toilet wall missing, exposing the big pipe that runs through the building (they can't fix it and close it back up the same day - maybe if they didn't take two-hour lunches...), and the pipe that was dripping in the first place, that is STILL DRIPPING onto my toilet which has now lost its seat and cover. Oh yes, and the outlet that was supposed to be fixed is in pieces (i.e. not fixed) and the guys used up a roll of paper towels and toilet paper.

Oh, and the best part about this debacle? There wasn't even a note to explain any of it. After calling my landlord, I found out that the drip will be taken care of tomorrow, although I don't know how, since I'm leaving early; the toilet seat had to be replaced (I assume they broke it, because there was nothing wrong with it in the first place); they were missing a piece for the outlet; and the wall will be put back up next week, as planned.

Now, how hard would it have been to just write that all out? NOT VERY.

In other news.... I've now had all of my classes, and I can say right now that this is not going to be an easy year. Whatever fantasy I had of coming back and redoing my relatively care-free year in Paris has swiftly been kicked to the curb by the mounds of reading, papers, presentations, and other nonsense I have to do for my masters. It'll be nice to be a student again, though, even if it IS all in French and will take twice as long to do.

We went to a "soutenance de thèse" (thesis defense) today that lasted three hours. It was the most boring thing I've ever had to sit through in my entire life, except maybe that one production of Hamlet I saw two years ago, but even there I had something to look at and laugh at. I guess it didn't help that we hadn't read the 700 page dissertation (and nor would I like to) and didn't understand any of what they were saying because of the technical vocabulary, but it was still kind of interesting - in the beginning, before we all started nodding off - to see how they do it, and if anything, it was a good observation opportunity. So much of what was said was formulaic and ritual. "I thank you, sir, for giving me the floor." "No, it is I who thank you." No, I'm not kidding. Directly translated from French, that's what it comes out to. Antiquated, superficial ceremonies that have to be conducted because society deems that they should.

I started thinking about that, how everything here is so superficial or artificial - everything is a ritual or tradition, done out of habit or "politesse" (politeness), but most of it has no relevance to today's culture. Everything from not cutting your salad, never switching the fork and knife when eating meat, to having to fill out mountains of forms just to get a library card - you ask French people why they do it that way, why it's not simpler, and most of them will tell you, "it's just the way things are done." There's no effort for efficacy (or you could say there's too much), just show and tell. Haussmann. It's the same thing. Make all the streets look pretty in order to hide the poor panhandlers and gypsies in the crappy parts of town. Now it's, chop up the buildings inside to make a profit, but don't touch the outside, don't let anyone know you've ruined a 250-year-old edifice. Scarves, shoes, bags - well, anything having to do with commericial culture, obviously. Hosing down the streets every week. Celebrating obsolete holidays. Avoiding very much-needed updates. Saying "bonjour, monsieur," or "au revoir, messieurs-dames." All politeness and pretense.

Ok, so I'm not saying you should be rude. The French aren't rude, actually, when you really look at it. If there's any culture that looks down on impoliteness, it's the French. I actually like it when I'm greeted every time I walk into a store, or when guys hold the door for me or give up their seat on the metro, just out of habit and kindness. Ok, so more out of habit. Sometimes they're nice, though. Sometimes.

I'm thinking about doing my thesis on this. Maybe more on a linguistic level, but I'm more interested in the cultural aspect of it, and how all of these traditions and ceremonies have absolutely no real function today. Or maybe I'll just stick to anglophone theater in Paris. I like that one. Anyways, I could go on for hours. I have thousands of ideas about my thesis, but not just a couple that I could really narrow it down to. I'll figure it out, I guess.

Tomorrow we're going out to Vaux-le-Vicomte, the chateau that apparently inspired Versailles. I've been there, but it'll be cool to go with someone who actually knows what they're talking about. Plus, we get a free meal. I'm all about free French cuisine. As should you be.