Bonjour mes amies! Je suis très desolée que je n'ecrite rien depuis quelques semaines! Malheuresement, j'ai une raison triste d'expliquer à tous. Ok enough French. First of all, this country is technologically challenged. I mean what the shit? THERE IS NO LEGITIMATE MAC STORE IN PARIS. The other night, after a beautiful jog, and a beautiful day, I returned chez les De Ribiers to disocover that my hard drive had crashed. I wept for that and also for many other things - like The Reader, which is the saddest yet most powerful love story that I have EVER read. Please read it and thank me for it later. Or hate me because you will see how no man will ever love you like that...
Long story short, my Mac, better knozn as my first born for the pain I suffer each day without it, is currently sitting in some Mac repair shop by the Pompidou. GOOD NEWS: They accept Apple Care in France. EVEN BETTER NEWS: It will not violate my Apple Care in the States. God might actually like me if they can manage to fix it.
Otherwise, Paris is treating me pretty freaking well. I have made some pretty cool friends, especially this girl Maddie who is basically my Ava - really, both Avz's combined - here in the city of lights. We experience epic nights together in bars where she probably can't show her face again. It is basically amazing and we are headed to Amsterdam together which I Bet will be a shit show.
***I apologize for the typos of which I am sure there are many. I am currently typing on a French keyboard and c'est pas facile!***
So much has happened in the past week. I went to Giverny, where Monet's house is located, saw his house and the gardens, and felt like I was in a painting. If you ever have the chance to go, I insist you do, because it is like nothing I have ever seen before. I enjoyed a delicious crêpe after, and a citron pressé, which is just squeezed lemon juice that you make your own lemonade from. It was fab.
Last weekend I discovered that I truly do love British men and that the French, if you let them near you, think that you are their girlfriend immediaterly. I met this guy at The Hideout, and he would not let me be. I was furious. He was drunk as hell, did not speak English, and could not understand my French. Fortunately, he was better thzn the guy who kept calling me a douchebag because I said in French and English that he was too drunk and could not articulate himself properly. I might be a douche, but at least I don't allow myself to be seen in public like that. It's not acceptable to be seen drunk like that in Paris. The Parisians definitely do not get that sloppy, and it was attrocious.
Fortunately, Mr. Oxford University Robert came to save me and swpet me off my feet. One thing that I must point out is that men here are not quick to buy you drinks. I don't really understand it but I truly hate it. Robert is from London and is currently a student at Sciènce-Po, the politcal science school here in Paris where Sarkozy and most major French politicians have studied. Swoon. He kind of looks like Charles, which is totally appropriate, because obviously big name schools and flippy hair do it for me.
We started class this week and I am exceedingly excited for my Vichy France class. My prof is beautiful and brilliant; an Oxford grad as well, as far as I know, who focused on Modern France for his Ph.D. and is also an LSP Professor. Love at first sight and I totally call dibs on being the first person to ruin his reputation as a prof, though admittedly, I'd like to get an A instead of getting other things... I only have one course that seems particularly daunting, and that is because my prof is this intense French Art Historian, who is super intelligent and knowledgeable, but super UNaccommodating for those of us who do not speak native French. I just want to shout MOINS VITES, SVP!!! Meh. But the concept is really cool and we are going to all of these museums, like the Louvre but also some obscure ones like the Musée L'Orangerie. It will be très formidable.
Bon, je suis à la biblio, donc il faut que je fasse mes devoirs. My Franglais gets better every day. I am in love with Paris and not sure I ever went to speak regular anglais ever again.
GROS BISOUS, MES AMOURS!!
AND I FORGOT: I tried DUCK last week. It was the most sumptuous, delicious, sensual, sensational; whatever sexy, erotic, tasty, savory word you want to use, that's how I feel about duck. And about all the future weight I will gain because of it.
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