Phoenix: Let's Try That Again

My poor heart is going to explode from the high highs and the low lows over the past 2 days. The first was yesterday-- it was like OMGZZZ AWESOOMMMEEE!!1! to suddenly stomach dropping oh no oh no.

It was with a foolish optimism that I put on a dress and did my Makeup this morning, because hey! You never know! Maybe that guy who denied me the tickets yesterday would wake up feeling remorseful and email me last minute!

Taping for Fallon came and went. Time ticked by in the Gawker office. I checked Twitter. Tumblr. My RSS Reader. Texts From Last Night, even. Click. Click.

I think I read every single page on the internet at least twice.

Bored with life, I clicked one more thing in my Reader before mentally checking out and heart. Stopped.

This is what I saw:

You know what? God bless you, Street Carnage. Seriously. You make a lot of crass dick jokes and often post NSFW pictures without warning me, but hot damn. You finish like a champion. That's what she said.

So, off I popped down the street to the Apple store. I got there, found a wristband, and scurried into line.

I was only about 15 people deep and knew I'd have a good view of the teeny little stage when I got upstairs. Settled in for the wait, I noticed several things.

1. Spanish speaking people text "jajajajaja" to each other a lot. Why? Doesn't "si" mean yes? Are they secret German speakers?

2. Teenagers from New Jersey are, in general, probably very nice. However. I always manage to be somewhere near a group of them at concerts, and underage drunk bridge and tunnelers always make me see red.

3. Hearing your favorite band suddenly play a soundcheck directly over your head is another way to simulate a heart attack.

When I got upstairs, all the seats were filled. Most of the people looked like employees or music biz people and the line started filing directly behind the seats. I somehow nabbed a primo end-of-row, next-to-aisle spot. That way, in case the seated people stood up during the show, I could very quickly dart into the aisle and still see the stage.

I went to college! I know things!

(Not like those fucking teenagers.)

We found out the concert was being recorded and/or taped? for the iTunes online store. Cool. Band comes out.

Lots of smiling and bopping around from this one over here... they played some new album stuff but also did "Consolation Prizes" and "Long Distance Call". As usual, they're terrific live (holy singing voice, Thomas!) and seemed very happy and appreciative.

Half an hour later, they paused before the last song. The Jersey teenagers, who had (of course) found a dead center standing position, finally came through with the douche. Thomas said something about seeing us tomorrow or Saturday at their concerts in Central Park, and a teenager yelled, "We're going!"

Awkward silence. Heads turn slooowly, iTunes execs look pissed off, band strains to hear.

Thomas, being the incredibly nice guy that he is, stops getting ready to sing and asks, "What?"

Teenager: "We're going!"

Thomas: ?

Teenager: "See you there!"

Thomas: [ambivalent, turning away] "...Ok."

Crowd: "Hahahahahahaha."

And, just like that, a stupid teenager got Cut by a Parisian.

Let me tell you-- it's a life-jarring experience, the first time.

Tomorrow I'm seeing them play in Central Park! Thank my optimism again for buying a ticket months ago, before I knew I'd still be living in this timezone. Here's hoping there are no cardiac events in my near future.

Week of Fashion

It's Fashion Week in NY-- I've almost completely not done anything to celebrate, unlike two very long years ago. I guess I just lack the energy it takes to stand around outside shows, knowing I won't get in. Laaammeee. Anyways, it's more fun when not as many people are there. In London and Paris, most locals could give a flying frak about Fashion Week.

I did attempt Fashion's Night Out, but everything was mobbed by the time I made it out of work. My closest brush with fame was seeing The Facehunter doing his thing outside of the Opening Ceremony party. And someone who looked suspiciously like Daisy Lowe caused a scene outside of Fabiane's on Bedford during brunch the other day. Not enough outdoor seating, or something.

My parents visited yesterday and I took them to the High Line. In a fabulous coincidence, we brushed right past Milk Studios, a big venue for some of the shows this year. Hoardes of chattering Italian tourists pressed against the barriers of the High Line in an attempt to photograph the models getting done up inside. My dad was almost offended by the amount of black clothing he saw in the Meatpacking District. I find it funny, because the most color I've worn recently is dark denim or the occasional lurid thriftstore dress. We refused free cupcakes from the Club Monaco truck parked alongside the entrance to the park and moved on to Tea and Sympathy for some Earl Grey.

I think tomorrow will be a thrifting day-- I need a leather jacket and don't have money to buy a new one. I have a browser full of places in Greenpoint, the East Village and Chelsea to check out. Any kind of black motorcycle or bomber jacket is preferred. Suggestions of where to look?

What To Do in London

Lots of fellow students are making the right decision and choosing to move far, far away to London for a semester. Cheers, everyone! As I did with Paris, I thought I'd make a quick list of cool places to see and visit. The Paris list was quite a bit longer, but I trimmed this down to the essential places and things to do/see. Shall we?

Bars and food:
-Drayton Arms, right around the corner from some of the BU housing, for pub quiz
-Catch (22 Kingsland Road, Shoreditch) and any clubs around 333, in East London: Catch is free to get in and they have great DJs and cheap drinks.
-Metro [which just shut down and may have moved to Camden] and Bourne and Hollingsworth at Oxford Street: Metro has amazing Wednesday nights where they play indie, Britpop, '60s music and have great drink specials. B&H is a 1920s themed bar with amazing gin cocktails and people come in costume. You can take the night bus straight to Metro.
-Lab for good cocktails (12 Old Compton Street, Soho): really expensive but worth it
-There are some great outdoor bars around the canal at Camden market. Get a Pimms Cup cocktail and hang out outside when it’s warm.
-Crêpe place around the corner from South Ken tube station for really amazing, high-quality crêpes.

Markets:
-Camden Market on Sat: Get off at Camden Town tube stop, turn right and walk through market (including Stables market) and then down Chalk Farm Road to Primrose Hill and then climb the hill for a great view of London. It’s a 20 minute walk.
-Borough Market on Sat: London Bridge tube stop. It’s a food market and they have amazing places to grab lunch. Get a cheap tea and scones next door to Neil’s Dairy Yard. They also filmed part of Harry Potter in the flower store nearby. Vinopolis Wine Museum is fun and they give healthy pours.
-Spitalfields on Sunday (Brick Lane): Liverpool St Station and then cross the street and head to Spitalfields covered market. Go to Absolute Vintage, Beyond Retro, and the Old Truman Brewery (at Brick Lane) for awesome clothes markets. The bar across from 93 ft East has outdoor seating and amazing live music.
-Not a market, but check out Liberty and Carnaby Street. It was the epicenter of the '60s mod culture.

Tips:
-London Zoo is really expensive and not worth it
-If you like theater or musicals, go to matinee shows or get BU's cheap tickets. I also stood in line for tickets and ended up seeing Ewan McGregor in Othello for like $30.
-Join the lecool london and London Parties email lists
-Clubs like Mahiki, Boujis, Chinawhite, Kensington Roof Gardens, and Amaya are all famous and have celebrities but usually cost 20 pounds to get in (unless you’re on a list from London Parties)
-Take advantage of the nearby Imperial College: BU students get a student ID card and can hang out in the pub
-Time Out London has great free walking tours, events, and dance nights for each week
-Whichbudget.com for cheap tickets to the rest of Europe
-Take the Eurostar to Paris-- it's quick and easy, and you save the money from a cheap flight on the metro/tube fare.

Check out more of my reviews of London shops and a few from Paris here.

Gather 'Round, Children

Last year gave me the chance to sight-see quite a bit around Europe. During these trips, I occasionally took the helm and bossed my friends around. For a change. Thanks to my recent photo "borrowing" spree when I realized my roommate had about 1500 pictures of me that I'd never seen, I discovered these two gems:

Here's me, describing Prague Castle to my enraptured audience.

And here I am again, apparently predicting what we'd be seeing in Sintra, Portgual.
I knew I should have gone into primary education. (Just kidding, that was never, ever a consideration for my life)

First Dance

I can close my eyes and predict EXACTLY how everyone's first "London!!1!" or "Paris je t'aime!!" Facebook albums look.

London:
-Boat cruise on the Thames (this includes the London Eye, Parliament, Tower Bridge, one half-hearted blurry shot of Greenwich, and usually a few random and off-center ones of the Aquarium and MI-5)
-Flat (inside and outside. The inside one is boring and weird because there is nothing in the room yet)
-Red telephone box
-Red bus
-Pub (a beer on a table, some people drinking beers, and then some people looking mildly drunk)
-Tube (a shot of the stop and then one on the platform-- usually Gloucester Road or South Kensington, but one extremely entertaining person went all the way to Cockfosters just for a shot of the sign)
-Westminster Abbey and Buckingham Palace
-Club (all the kids have a big "welcome to London" party with open bar at a club in the city. This includes drunk shots, people looking good in nice clothes, and then blurry lights)

Paris: less easy to predict because everyone lives in different parts of the city, but mostly have
-Eiffel Tower
-View of Eiffel Tower from school
-View from top of Eiffel Tower
-Lunch on the Champs de Mars
-Notre Dame-- both in front and from the side, across the river
-A closeup of a crêpe
-Apartment and bedroom
-Drinking wine (sometimes in a restaurant, more likely somewhere in public like by the river or a landmark)
-Louvre pyramids

I do have to say that I had similar pictures in my first batch.

Hard for the Money

In order to keep busy, pad my resumé, meet new people, and try to forget that nearly all of my friends are gone or not from Chicago, I took two jobs. Technically, it's more like 3, and technically I'm only getting paid for one. Come, take a walk and hear my stories.

One of the gigs is helping a pod and vidcaster with her show. Here's a video we did a few days ago to test out UStream.tv for their live feed. I'm in the clip on the left.

My official paid internship in the city is going really well so far, for the first two days. I got thrown completely into the deep end with doing work. It's extremely satisfying to be on Photoshop for 4 hours without a break.

One of my proudest moments was watching the two account interns at the front desk act as receptionists and make copies. Been there, done that, my friends. IN FRENCH. AND BRITISH. I just sort of peeked over my screen, taking a break from resizing an ad, to watch them troop in and out to use our huge copy machine.

Working in the city is absolutely fabulous and I love it. The commute, it is not fun. An hour is much longer than a typical day's journey in London or Paris (A typical day. I'm looking at you, fucking grève.) My office is right off Michigan Avenue, which makes it similar to my Paris office's mere steps from the Arc de Triomphe. It's fun to be central, but it's not fun to be tripping over tourists and hillbillies in from the countryside. I tend to walk super fast and dodge people, looking like a total bitch in my sunglasses and headphones. Whatevs.

Tomorrow is a big festival day in Chicagoland, and I have a few plans in the pipeline. Pictures and more stories to come, I'm sure.

Museum Day

Today was Museum Day!

I decided that, in light of my day of complete leisure yesterday (I woke up late, got tickets to Strausbourg, and then sat in an Indiana for their WiFi for about 4 hours... I topped it off by going out, getting free drinks from the manager who's friends with everyone we know at Chez Justine, and then getting back rather early this morning), I would do something worthwhile.

I brought my camera, too, because I've been extremely lax on the picture front since I've been here. My Paris pictures suck.

The Orangerie was first and eek was it pretty! I love getting into museums for free with my art history ID. I can just run through and see what I want, and not feel obligated to stay because I paid so much. I wandered past the looong beautiful paintings, which are all lit by filtered sunlight from the windows: I was just amazed. I feel lucky because I've seen Giverny. I know what and where Monet was painting, and today I saw the finished product.

I got distracted by the Pont Alexandre III, so I walked down and took some pictures over there. It really is a ridiculously photogenic area. It warms my cold heart when I see peoples' shock at the Eiffel Tower or the bridge for the first time. I think the best place to stand is right by the Concorde metro stop. When people get out, their faces just change-- it's really really cool.

I walked down to the Musée des Arts Décoratifs for the Christian Lacroix retrospective, and it was. Amazing. Seriously. He curated it himself, adding in pieces from the museum's archives. The result is this awesome mélange of colors, patterns, textures, and every time period starting around the late 1600s. The Lacroix couture is mind boggling up close-- I saw some of his work in Boston last year, when they had some of his last collection on display at the Museum of Fine Arts. But this exhibit was about 300 times cooler, and I'm so sad I couldn't take pictures. (from Reuters.com)

I went into the jewelry room and, from across the room, spotted a camelia diamond ring and said out loud, "ooh! Chanel!" And I was right. I sort of have all these super powers that are completely useless without an enormous disposable income.

I was heading out to the metro and decided to pop into the Louvre because I had my camera and everything. I have to say, having a "laissez passer" and free time to go to one of the best museums in the world anytime I want is very nice. I sort of ran through to the large formats (my favorite), and then spent a good amount of time exploring the second floor (3rd floor, for Americans), which I had never seen before.

Metro back home, and now I am uploading all the pictures. It's a total pain in the ass to think about the paper and laundry I have to do: I think I will hold off on laundry (I literally have no clothes left, so maybe I'll show up at work tomorrow looking like a bum) but try to finish my paper. Because it's uh, due Thursday.

Ma Vie en Merde

Ever been mowed down by a Parisian biker in the bike path, coming at you with the dinky bell ringing, little light flashing menacingly, and with screams of "ATTENTION!! BORDEL!" sounding in your ears?

Nope, me neither. But that's because I am SMART. I stay far away from the bike path. Some other folks, not so much.

Especially now, with the time of grève upon us, I know waay better than to trespass on sacred ground. I pity the tourists who see a long, smooth, empty bike path and think, "Hey! This is great! More room for my enormous suitcase to coast! No cobblestones! Neat!"

Because, inevitably, the tourist gets forced off the road by a crazy bike rider. I don't really blame the bikers: they have to deal with some serious shit from the motorcyclists and scooter(ers?) who park on the sidewalk and then roar off into the open bike lane until they can dismount onto the street. It makes sense bikers would take out their frustrations on people who stray onto their turf.

My only problem with bikers is when they can't decide whether they belong on the road or the bike path (ex. like in Boston, where bikers will run into you while you're crossing the street, because they bike on the road but don't stop at lights or signs like drivers do). Also, during this time of grève, the bikers have started overtaking the pedestrian sidewalks. Not cool, dude.

Stick with the buses, is what I say! I didn't wait for any today, but I still managed to get on two. The one this morning went speeding past me as I was on the way to the metro, so I basically flat out sprinted back to the bus stop and got on, no hassles. Then, this afternoon, I finally got off the 1 metro at Bastille and took the 65 bus. It was slowly approaching as I got outside. Nice.

I also have to say that, even though this strike is seriously killing my will to be a full-time worker, it's the only time I've ever seen Parisians smiling at strangers. Weirder still, there's much more talking and laughing with strangers than I would have imagined. People know this strike is ridiculous, and they also know what they are forced to do (ex. standing spooning with everyone around you) is stupid. So most of them make light of it. I think it's making my commute a bit easier.

That being said, if one more asshole jams behind me as the doors close, I might cut a bitch. That is all.

Alice in Vuittonland

Today, during my lunch break, I went on a mission to find the Wes Anderson Darjeeling Limited luggage by Louis Vuitton. Marc Jacobs famously designed an 11 piece luggage set for Anderson's newest movie (which I've been DYING to see, but of course it doesn't come out in France until eternity).
(lower left side of the screen)

This trunk has a pretty big role in the short film, Hotel Chevalier, which is a prequel to the Darjeeling movie.I was sure it would be on display at LV's flagship store on the Champs-Elysées in Paris.

Wrong. It's in New York. But I did have a good time looking.

The Louis Vuitton store is one of those places always surrounded by crowds of people and ...uh, mystery. Everyone knows it's too expensive for the everyday purchase, and most people (for example, me) don't go in there unless they plan to buy something.

I decided I had nothing else to do on my lunch break, so I went in and started hunting.

Of course, after about 5 minutes, it became apparent the luggage wasn't there. I decided to go upstairs and have a poke around anyways. As soon as I started climbing the staircase, leaving the Japanese tourists below, I felt much better. It seems like most people don't go upstairs unless they are looking for a watch or are in the know. Like me, now! Because upstairs is the best.

I wandered past displays of how the trunks are made, to a few showcases of the higher-end bags, to the hall of trunks and luggage. It was the merde: people were in there, actually BUYING LUGGAGE, and I slowed down and looked wistful. The bags and scarves of LV are meh to me... I can take them or leave them. But a handcrafted, carmel-colored leather steamer trunk with separate comparments for shoes and hanging clothes? I would not turn one of those down. No suh.

I eventually got mixed up in the couture part of the store, which was a tad awkward. Once again, there were actually people there, buying things. It was obvious I would not be doing any such thing. The salespeople were, as always throughout the store, super nice. But I could tell THEY knew that I KNEW that I shouldn't be there. So I slowly descended the stairs and tripped back outside, to the dirty sidewalk. Sigh.

Last Night's Party

Last night, I:

Got rear-ended in a cab. Somehow, though, it didn't take more than 2 minutes to get going again.

Shepherded four Americans and an ostentatious French person to one of my favorite clubs. We met PIP people there, and it was an enormous American person party in the Hip Hop room.

Saw Christmas lights and store window decorations at Galleries Layfayette and Printemps. At about 3 AM, I noticed they were putting up wreaths and more lights at BHV(yes, I was strolling around the Hotel de Ville at 3 on a work day).

Took the Noctilien to Chatelet and was invited to sit next to a loud drunk man. I declined. Bonnie was later told by a man exiting the bus that he wanted to enculer her. Thanks?

And finally, last night I fell into bed and slept like a professional sleeping thing. It was excellent. Plan to do it again tonight, if the party for the ostentatious French person finishes early.

Tale of Four Cities

My vacation started with a pretty long train ride to Salzburg, Austria. It was my first real, long train ride since goodness knows when, so I settled in with cosy sweaters, snacks, and music. I have to say...I had a pretty good time. We stopped in Stuttgart, where I got Red Bull and sausage, and then continued past the foothills of the Alps. I took maaany pictures out the window.

Salzburg is beautiful! I loved walking around and seeing the Baroque architecture and the castle up on the hill. My friend Caitlin met me there on her way back from Rome, and we saw most of the city and did a Sound of Music Tour with an Aussie girl from our hostel. It was Caitlin’s first time experiencing Austrian/ German culture, so I made sure to ply her with radler, weiss beer, weiner schnitzel, and she was a champ about always finishing her apple streudel.

We visited the castle for the view of the city (awesome, and worth the 10 euro for the "fun"icular). There was a terrifying swooping sensation in my stomach after taking off up the vertical track. Then we spent half a day riding around on a bus with a seriously non-sober tourguide who showed us how The Sound of Music was filmed in and around the cty. We got out to Monsee, in the mountains, where they filmed the wedding scene. It was also, incidentally, where I had some pretty tasty streudel.

I took the night train to Venice, which was a total nightmare (heh). My sleeping car was full of Germans, two of whom snored and kept me awake for the entire 7 hours. Add to that the cold and the damp, and I was about ready to hop on a flight back to Paris when I stumbled out of the train station in Venice.

The city was absolutely beautiful. But. I can’t really decide whether I like it. There are locals, contrary to what I’ve heard, but I don’t know what they do. Do they work in all the mask shops and restaurants clogging up the tiny passages? Do they all hawk birdseed to screaming tourists at San Marco? Because there are little to no businesses on the islands; it’s limited to some banks and maybe a government office or two. And then, there’s just not much more to do than stroll and eat. Every once and a while, you take pictures to keep things interesting. The shopping isn’t fantastic, the museums are few and far between, and everything is sort of dull (for example, we went to Murano by way of vaparetto, and after about 20 minutes I was ready to leave). I can't even begin to explain my fury toward the crowds of people. They STROLL and gawk, and if you need to be anywhere with any sort of time constraint, it's hard to do.

Maybe I’m getting jaded, but I wasn’t overly impressed after my initial shock about the city's beauty wore off.

The hostel was terrible, too. I slept on a cot for almost 50 euros a night, and the management didn’t speak English. The location was gold, though: 10 minutes from the train and 15 to San Marco if you didn’t get lost.

I had an amazing dinner with some PIP kids who met me in the city, and then I went to hang out at their hotel. We watched the European Music Awards live on MTV, and I started to feel normal again.

Then, after my friends had left, I decided to veto spending another long day in Venice and instead took a train to Florence. I’ve been once before, so this was my shopping and museum visit. It was very elegant and relaxing to not feel pressured about sightseeing. Instead, I stationed myself in line for the Uffizi (two hour’s wait), saw some Botticellis, took pictures of the Ponte Vecchio from upstairs, and then wandered around the streets with food until I found a pair of leather driving gloves I wanted. It was an extremely nice end to a long but well-deserved vacation, I think.

I took the train back to Paris, which took most of the day. I changed trains in Milan so I decided to try and see the city. I think I got about 10 minutes away from the station and then called it a day. It’s not an overly beautiful city, and it was Sunday. Everything was shut down. Plus, I got yelled at in Italian for trying to bust my way into a locked restaurant. Oops.

Pictures are going up (slowly) on flickr... and fear for your life. It was a long vacation with beaucoup photo ops.

The British Are Coming! The British Are Coming!

After the wine tasting this afternoon (about 5 glasses of wine later, and I was having a terrific time), I walked up to Trocadero with some friends to get a crêpe. On the way, we passed about 4,000 Englishmen, their wives and children, and the odd group of South Africans. It. Was. A. Madhouse.

I couldn't be happier that the rugby final is tonight. First I have the "Malade Imaginaire" at the Comédie Française, and then it's straight to the Hôtel de Ville or to a pub somewhere to watch the second half of the game.

In the metro on the way back home, two English guys in jerseys and funny hats (one was wearing a "Paris" beret and the other had a Disney dwarf face) started chatting to us about Paris, England, and our hometowns in America. One thing is for sure: These English are here for a good time, and, judging by the sheer amount of beer I saw at Trocadéro, they are determined to have one.

Kanye (and I) do Viktor and Rolf

Pictures from Père Lachaise are slowly--ever so slowly-- going up on flickr. My internet connection at the apartment has skydived into a very fleeting, rare thing nowadays. I really hate that. I am blaming it for my inability to study, because I spent all day Sunday running from MacDo to MacDo to snobby internet cafe to Starbucks, trying to find a wifi signal. And alas, there were none. I ended up downloading the first episode of "The Office" while I was taking my Versailles lit class, and I was in love. That episode? Seriously one of the best. Anyways.

Today after my last exam, I went over to the Tuileries to try and find the Viktor and Rolf show. After buying a book at the WHSmith (bliss!), finding a cheap black umbrella without "Paris" stamped across it (miracle!), and following a TV crew to the tent (crafty!), I settled in and waited.

It rained off and on, but I had plenty to do. I just squeezed along one of the metal barricades right in front of the entrance and people-watched. About half an hour before the show, tons of important people started showing up. I saw Nina Garcia ("fashion director from Elle magazine"... thanks, Project Runway)

Linda Wells (editor at Allure)

Hamish Bowles (Vogue)

and a few fashion-y people I recognized from watching TV5 in Boston.

My place by the barricade happened to be the main entrance for all the important people with "seated" invitations (they had chairs to sit in, unlike the common photographer/assistant folk, who got shoveled to the side to wait for their standing room only spot). The list bitch was also there, so I got to hear a few people crying to her about losing invitations, waiting for people inside, and not being on the list she flapped at their faces. She was extremely not nice (as her position demands), but she knew her shit-- any important person, like a major magazine journalist or a tall, skinny person (rich society ladies, I'm assuming), was immediately hustled in past the guards without any questions.

After the flood was over and the order came through-- "Fermez la porte!" I stuck around for a few more minutes, hoping to get an Anna Wintour-caliber celeb. And then! Kanye sashayed up with his Amazonian girlfriend, and the list bitch SPRANG! into action and he got past me in seconds.


Everyone left outside by the Barrier Of Bargaining chilled out for 15 minutes and listened to the music from the show. And then it was over. All the people from inside rushed back out, cheek-kissing and swirling their expensive bags around. I got some more pictures of the ones I recognized again, and then I moved to the other side to get a few pictures of the models.

They all had pink shiny blush along their entire temples, and most of them had different hairstyles. I definitely recognized one model (I think her name is Agyness-- she's British and the new thing in modeling, according to EVERYONE), and the rest just sort of danced around with their bones clacking together.

After another few minutes, Kanye came back out and posed obligingly for the paps. As soon as he started walking away, though, he was completely left alone. I followed him from a respectful distance, and it seemed like most people didn't recognize him. It was almost funny, because I could see tourists thronging the gardens with their cheap little cameras, trying to get good pictures of the Place de la Concorde. But almost no one picked out the relatively major celebrity walking around.

A gyspy asked Kanye and his girlfriend if they "speek Eeenglish?" and that made me laugh out loud-- I watched them get crêpes and cotton candy, and then called it a day and took the metro back.


All the pictures will hopefully be up tomorrow, but no guarantees.

How I Spent My Weekend

Friday morning was spent in bed, after a long night of dancing at Duplex, my favorite club (so far) in the city. When I finally managed to peel myself out from under the sheets and after finally doing my laundry, I decided to make a trip to the Musée Luxembourg for the Arcimboldo exhibit. And it was so rad.



The paintings are from the mid 1500s, and each one is extremely detailed and kooky. It must have been revolutionary work in his lifetime, and people still line up and pay 9 euros to see it today. There were kids running around, freaking out about how strange everything was, and I leaned in pretty close a few time, just to lean back out, laughing.

One of the best parts about the exhibit was having a reason to cut through the Jardin de Luxembourg to get to the museum. After walking down the tree-lined, straight gravel paths and shuffling my way through fallen leaves, I think I fell in love. I'm determined to go back soon with my camera, to get some beautiful pictures before all the leaves are gone.

Saturday afternoon, I took my camera on a trip to Père Lachaise cemetary. This was one of those famous Paris places I'd always wanted to visit, but had somehow never managed.

I strode in and brushed my way past all the tourists crowding the oversized map of the cemetary, but after about 2 minutes, I meekly went back and bought one: the place is huge and graves are scattered everywhere, in no particular order or pattern. I made sure to find the big famous graves (tip: just look for crowds of people circled around a grave), and then spent about 15 minutes walking around in circles to find Molière. It's cheesy, but I kissed Oscar Wilde's (which was actually really beautiful, with its pattern of lipstick all over), and then I got back to the metro and went to Versailles.

John, his friend from Venice, and I had bought tickets to see an orchestral concert at Versailles. There's a festival this month offering cheap concerts from the various courts throughout the ages, and we picked one from Louis XVI in the Chappelle Royale.

It was a great time: we spent a few hours showing John's friend the chateau and the grounds, eating ice cream, and then finally running for the show. I was so impressed by the whole thing: the chapelle was gorgeous, the soloist was amazing, and the conductor and first violinist were hilarious. I'm so glad we got tickets. There's nothing cooler than hearing music from the 1700s in a chapel where it might have been performed.

Pictures up later, if I can ever get my act together and study for my midterms.

See Anna Pack Her Liquids

Just a quick update, before I try to get some sleep for my early flight tomorrow.

I was trying to pack my things, and realized I needed to carry on. SO I went to the Orly-Sud airport site to find out what the liquid requirements are. And behold, the little slideshow, featuring a lass with a curious name...


Is it strange that Anna isn't a French name? Obviously, this girl is a foreigner who is going on a trip from Paris.


Anna wants to put her liquid-filled crap into her carry-on! What a humorous situation!


Busted! Silly Anna, you are 100% not allowed to bring unlimited liquids in your carry-on!


THIS is how you're supposed to do it.


And there she goes! Enjoy Munich! And your new, short, brown 'do... Cute skirt, by the way.


Keep doing what you do. And remember, travelers (who.may.or.may.not.be.french.but.probably.aren't.since.this.chick. was.german.or.irish.or.something), keep your liquids under 100mL!


A message from your friendly Orly-Sud Aeroport.

La rentrée

The end of August is when most French people return from their vacations; they crowd airports and clog highways in an attempt to get back at the last minute, their month-long break from real life not long enough. It’s called la rentrée, or “the return.” In a similar fashion, I got to Charles de Gaulle on the last day of official summer vacation, making it my sixth? seventh? time here. I hit the ground running.

I’ll be here for almost four months studying and doing an internship, but I couldn’t chill on my first day. Mom and Dad came with to “drop me off” and managed to squeeze in a few extra days here and then two more in London. They are so self-sacrificing.

We actually started our mini Tour de Europe in Frankfurt. Dad used his frequent flier miles to upgrade us to a business class flight (SO rockstar) and to stretch a few hours’ layover in Germany to a full day and night.

I drank excellent beer, ate excellent sausage, and had a really good time. I was unofficially designated the language person, so I did a bit of ordering and taxi-manuvering in German. Bitte! Danke! And I even used numbers. Of course, most Germans speak more than perfect English, so it wasn’t really necessary.

It was my first time in Germany, and even though Frankfurt is slightly working class (not as many restaurants, and fewer “pretty” areas than other European cities I’ve seen), I thought it was a cool place.

Good thing I’m going back, to Munich, in a few weeks. Ja!

We got to Paris this morning and I immediately sunk into a terrible mood. I truly hate CDG airport with a fiery passion. For one, the luggage was late. Then it took us about 15 minutes of wheeling heavy, cumbersome luggage in circles before we found a taxi.

Once we were in the city, my parents were being annoying. Everything was “look at this!” or “check that out!”, but it started to be kind of cute and then kind of fine, and then I started smiling again.

We’re staying in a teeny hotel on the Ile St. Louis, which is a small island right next to Notre Dame. The cobblestone streets are miniscule and lined with dubiously parked cars, and the buildings are typical Parisian and just gorgeous.

Berthillon, a very well-known ice cream parlor, is about 2 minutes away, making me an extremely happy and full person. My favorite flavor from there is probably pear, but there’s a slew of other unusual flavors like cassis (black current), and just “nuts.”

After we settled our luggage for a bit, I walked to Notre Dame with Mom so we could make it to Le Bon Marché, an enormous and very high-end department store on the Left Bank. The sun was shining, the river was beautiful, and an accordian player had set up shop on one of the bridges—it was hard not to roll my eyes, since scenes like that don’t usually occur in nature. It was very silly, but I smiled like an idiot anyways.

Paris!

We went to the Marais for lunch, which was hysterical for Dad. It’s the fashionable gay quarter, and the place we ate was called Open Bar. I had a delicious croque monsieur and my first Orangina-grenadine (un indien) of the semester.

In BHV Homme a bit later, I swear I saw one of the Dsquared designers going down the escalator. He was wearing a Dsquared sweater, and was just too tan and coiffed to be a normal guy. He caught me staring as he went down, and I saw him duck his head and speed up. I count it as my first celebrity sighting.

Later, Mom and I walked all the way to Le Bon Marché and I bought my first European-outlet hairdryer. I’m sort of ashamed to say it’s pink and sparkly, in addition to being foldable and outfitted with a diffuser, but suck it. We wandered around le Grand Epicerie, which is a beautiful food hall on the first floor. I love the insanely bright macrons, but I’m saving my money for the official Laudrée ones.

Afterwards, we checked out Zara (I got some great flat black leather boots) and Mom needed an Hermès stop, so we took the Metro to the Madeleine. She busied herself with getting the new Kelly perfume, and I tried my best not to stare. There were a few Middle Eastern families inside, stocking up: Hermès, it is not cheap.

I needed a nap after that, and we finished the night with dinner in a small bistro on the Ile. I organized more Berthillon for dessert (mandarin flavored), and then we walked around Notre Dame again in a big circle.

As we crossed the main bridge, two guys skidded their Velib’ bikes to a stop and shouted down to some friends hanging out by the Seine. The friends didn’t hear, so they tried to get their attention again; as they put their hands around their mouths to yell, a huge bateau mouche passed by with everyone on board screeching and clapping at something stupid. A few people waved back from the bridge, the street performers banged some drums, and one of the Velib’ guys dropped his head and muttered, “Oh là là, Paris.”

Oui oui, dude.