Wait...How do they ALL know the words to this?

I suppose it's about time I wrote about that goth party we went to this weekend.

Koa and I arrived at my British friend Selina's apartment off the Champs-Elysées at about half past ten. Back at the house, I had put on my new black boots, black dress, black jacket, and lots of eye-makeup but, even though we had used the White Stripes and Dita von Teese as our inspirations, neither Koa nor I really managed to pull off the goth look. We met Selina's French friends, Sarra and Sara, and headed for the boat around midnight.

The boat was the same scene of an eighties party I had gone to with Frances last semester, and I know the area well. This, however, was not the same sort of party. I had only a vague idea of what to expect and I was more or less right. Many of the girls had dressed either as ripped baby dolls or black and red skanks, then men as vampires, women (i know) and some of them wore kilts. Some of the more hard core party-goers wore leather with spikes on it.

Clearly, this is not my scene.

Honestly, the funny novelty lasted about an hour - the time it took for us to get the coat check - and this oh-so-evidently apple pie American girl was out of place and bored. The deck was lined with goths, chatting and smoking, the next floor was trance music, and below-deck was the Cure and the occasionaly Annie Lennox. But nothing even a little happy. Everyone was so depressed the whole time!

After a while, Koa and I got a little worried we would run into a professor or something - since there are probably only 250 goth people in Paris and they were all on the boat. Most were our age but some were older, much older.

Among the funny instances, I found Selina and Koa dancing on the trance floor. A blond guy, not bad looking minus the leather kilt, kept talking to Selina. Naturally, we thought he was hitting on her. Later, on the deck, I said something about it. She looked confused and then said, "No, no. He told me I was in his dancing space. I needed to move over." Only at a Goth party.

Otherwise, the music was totally weird - especially on the trance floor. But, somehow, everybody knew all the words to almost every song. It may as well have been Madonna playing on the creepy stereo.

In the end, Koa and I feel asleep on the bench for about and hour and a half until the metro opened and we all wandered home - oh, and witnessed a fist fight in the metro. All in all, it was a once in a lifetime evening. And I mean that literally. That's the only goth party I'm ever going to.

On Tuesday, my friend Kate and I decided to take advantage of the vacation and head out to the Chateau de Vincennes, a royal residence, military fortress, and very famous prison specifically for political and religious dissenters of the government. Among its prisoners: the marquis de Sade, Diderot, Nicolas Fouquet (minister to Louis XIV), Mirabeau - and the Mata-Hari was executed there in 1904. It was big, dry, and generally empty - and the famous gothic church was closed. But, it was one of the nicest days we've had in a while.

Later, we got lunch and headed to Victor Hugo's house at Place des Vosges, a completely beautiful apartment - and we got in free as Art History students. I still can't believe that real people live in similar apartments today in the same square. The tour kept reminding us that Hugo embodied 19th century Paris, and his apartment absolutely did, too.

Tomorrow, we are heading out to Fontainebleau, just outside of Paris. I am so pumped! It is supposed to be rainy and the winter won't help the look of the gardens, but we don't care. It was another royal residence, a favorite of Napoleon and Josephine.

This weekend I'll be in Normandy with my program - and all the new students. I have already seen most of the sites on the trip, but I'm sure we'll have a good time. I think we're really going to miss our old friends from last semester, though. Most of these excursions were spent staying up late and having fun with everyone. We have a feeling things will be a little different this time. But maybe not. I'll keep you posted.

Oh! and before I go, do you remember crazy Madame Kloeti, Natalie's old host mom with the little spoons? I spoke to her new host student, Tess, on the way back from APA the other day, and she said she is already miserable and is pretty sure she is moving. At least she knows now instead of battling with it in the last couple of weeks, like Nat did.

More to come - and hopefully pictures soon!

There's Crazy on your Face

So last night we went to see the ballet Coppelia, performed by the National Ballet of Geneva, at the Theatre de Chaillot at Trocadero - right next to the Champs de Mars and the Tour Eiffel. It is a beautiful theatre that was built after the Second Revolution in 1848 to accomodate a large number of working class people, who could not typically afford to go to the theatre. Now, it is famous for its more avant-garde productions, and avant-garde it sure was.

Coppelia, the story of a man who kisses a doll to bring her to life and then must choose between her real form and his fiancee, was performed to the original Stravinsky and Tchaichovsky scores, but this version included dialogue, video footage, and dancing eyeballs in bikinis. Mme Suraqui said she was unhappy that all the crazy onstage was the first performance for the new kids, but they all seemed to enjoy it. My only complaint besides the weirdos is that the only black girl in the cast was rocking the tarot cards and the crystal ball for no apparent reason. Since black people still come from the Islands, apparently.

In host mama drama news, my 17 year old host sister, Camille, appears to have a 22 year old boyfriend and it's quite the commotion. There was a blowout the other night at the kitchen table, which makes it difficult for me to casually bolt out the door. This one was a little worse since, as an outsider looking in, I often find some of these situations funny - don't worry, i'm a pro at keeping that reaction to myself in the face of the disputes. However, the other night my host mom was yelling at my host sister and during a lull, turned and smiled at me in what appeared to be an effort to ease the mood. I smiled back, and my host sister was pissed. "Why do you smile at her and not me? I'm your daughter. I'm sick of this..." To which my host mom replied, "Because she doesn't try to make me crazy. You make me crazy!" And still, I can't leave...

My friend Leah is really the only other student that has a host sister of similar age and she has the same problem. She says her 18 year old host sister and her host mom fight constantly and her host sister is very disagreeable. In turn, her host mom pays a lot of attention to Leah, which is understandable because Leah is interesting and won't yell at her. In the meantime, the sister has not bonded with Leah at all because she has some kind of really uncomfortable aggression towards her.

Although, I still wouldn't trade it to live with some of the other families. They are all good in their own way, but I'm still scared of Natalie's old host mom, Madame Kloeti, who did, in fact, receive a new host daughter this semester. Did I tell you all the story of Madame Kloeti and the spoons? I think I did over Christmas. Anyway, there are many like this, but Crazy Kloeti accused Nat of stealing all her little spoons and hiding them. When Natalie said no, she did not have the spoons, Mme K accused her of lying and then found them all in the dishwasher. She also accused Nat and her friends of stealing all her towels, which she later found in the washing machine.

Alright, that's it for now. I have the day off again today - YAY. I have Paul and Louis later on and then I think I'll read a good book or maybe see a movie.

This weekend our British friend Selina invited us to a boat party on the Seine, which I've been to before and they are SO much fun. But there's a catch this time. They are usually themed and I went on eighties night. This Saturday is Goth night and all the Brits, who are hardly goth, are dressing up to have fun with it. There is a 13 dollar cover (more than last time). Koa and I are almost tempted to go for the fun of it except for two things - real goth people creep me way out, and the music. If it's death metal yelling at me all night long I don't want to have to lock myself up with the Rolling Stones and Bob Dylan for the rest of the weekend just to remember that good music still exists in the world.

I'll put some pics up of the crazy ballet later.

Freedom

Today marked my first day of the week long vacation that I have definitely earned.

My last portrait final went shockingly well. I made up a couple of things that I must have buried in the back of my mind from class because they turned out to be accurate - like the fact that Francis Bacon worked from photographs.

Spent the day at APA looking through university brochures for literature and art histories to take this semester. The lit classes are disappointingly bleak - all out at Nanterre, the university where dreams go to die, and most are 19th century lit. That being said, it looks like I'm taking a medieval lit class and something on La Fontaine to avoid Balzac and Flaubert again. I'm hoping I'm taking them with friends so I'm not lost! I'm also signing up for a modern French art class with APA and I think another on flamboyant gothic French architecture.

Afterward, I went shopping with Clay, and we met Koa for dinner and to see Sweeney Todd at Odeon. I liked the not violent, singing 5 percent of it, but I spent the other 95 percent being totally grossed out and hiding in the seat.

Tomorrow I have an early meeting with Madame Suraqui on my class choices and then a whole day free! I think I'll be a big tourist for the rest of the week. Tomorrow night is a ballet out at Theatre de Chaillot, by the Eiffel Tower. Although, since the ballet is at Chaillot it is supposed to be pretty out in left field. Yay! Good story to come I hope.

Still haven't really gotten to know the new kids. We have some favorites and most of them are living with old families from last semester...weird. Clay said he thinks they all seem like their honeymoon phase is already over, while some of us are still going through ours. But I don't know, the first two weeks are pretty challenging.

I miss you all very much. Wish I had some more exciting news to report. I am spending next weekend in Normandy with the program! It's going to be freeeeezing!

Oh! and good news! My best friend from home, Lucy Bullock, and her friend are visiting from Dublin at the end of next month and I think Koa and I are going to follow them to Nice for the weekend, we think. I can't wait to get on the coast. Paris has been unusually warm but very rainy.

It's What's For Dinner, Tonight

So there's a few interesting things to report.

First of all, two friends and I made good use of our cultural program (while everybody else bailed out) and saw the clown, Buffo, at the Theatre du Ront Point on Avenue Franklin Roosevelt by the Champs Elysee. It was actually pretty great. The clown was from Detroit and he graduated from Barnum's Clown College. It was a lot more about music and language than a three ring circus. There were a couple of little French children in the audience who laughed at every little thing. So so cute.

I'm watching one of the Tom Cruise scientology videos that apparently are a big deal in the US as I write this. Have you guys seen this? Just his usual weirdo cult blabber.

We met the new semester students yesterday. The old students (me and five others) got in trouble with our program heads for showing up 15 minutes late and in a group for what we thought was a meet and greet - and was in fact a really organized table discussion. In general, they seem nice but I just don't know that we're going to bond with them like the did our old friends that have left. One kid in particular I liked a lot, but some of the girls were eyeing our friend Clay, who is seriously dating our other friend Koa, and we all sort of prickled up at the thought. One girl must have thought it was something other than a meet and greet, too, considering her shirt almost didn't exist. They met their families today and should be all moved in by now. We didn't exchange numbers with them or anything, but we are all going to Normandy together in two weeks. We'll see.

Otherwise, its finals week(end) and I have a four hour final at the crack of dawn tomorrow morning. I studied all day and came in to eat dinner with the fam. I was talking with my host mom before dinner and I asked her if the cat was going to have kittens anytime soon. She said that absolutely, the cat would have kittens before I left in June. Then, THEN, I asked her, "What do you do with the kittens?" and she said, "We eat them." I said, "Excuse me?"

I asked my host sister at the table if this was true and she said yes, that they cook them up with canaries and gravy. Then, my host dad came in the room and my host mom said, "Don't we eat the kittens?" and he said, "Of course. I like them barbecued." I told them I just knew they were lying to me and they were all dead serious. Even my host brother came in the front door from wherever he was and my host dad asked him if he liked to eat the kittens. He said, without missing a beat, "Yeah, they're not bad."

This went on for a very long time and I can't say I was calm about it. I asked them to please please warn me before they ate the kittens. Finally, after a long time, my host dad said, "We're just kidding" and he laughed...but the rest of the family didn't. Now I'm all paranoid.

Do they really eat the kittens? Did he just say that to keep me from writing home and everyone else I've ever met in my life? We eat meat every night and now I'm not so sure how I feel about that. But I know what a good target I am... they CAN'T really eat cats, can they? I know they eat horse...and frogs...and snails..and canaries...

I could never look at Holly the same way again.

Hitting the books. Don't expect to hear from me until Wednesday unless something really rediculous happens. After Tuesday night I'm free for over a week.

Ohhhh! Wait! Before I go, big big news! Our cultural program reserved tickets for Moliere's L'Ecole des Femmes, which I've read before, at the Theatre de l'Odeon (very contemporary productions). It is the story of an older man who sequesters an ingenue girl to make her the perfect woman, but she falls in love with a younger man and all of her patron's plans are ruined - and his sexist butt blames her.

But, the publicity is finally out for it and it turns out that not only is the director very famous, but it is starring Daniel Auteuil, one of my favorite French actors!! He is super big here - like Richard Gere big. You may have seen him in Jean de Florette!!, Manon des Sources, Lucie Aubrac, la Reine Margot, most recently Le Deuxieme Souffle. I've been all over the internet trying to varify if it's actually him, but unless there is another really famous French actor with the same name, I think I can fairly say that I'm really excited and I am sure I am going to be as obnoxious as possible. Look out.

Denial of all Sorts

I am still, yes still, on my out-of-whack sleep schedule, but it is coming in handy tonight because I'll be up writing a very long paper on Gerhard Richter, contemporary German painter extraordinaire. Tomorrow - a final that I don't think I can study for because I don't know what to study. The rest of the week - a ton of homework and a four hour exam on Saturday morning.

Of course, this all could have been done a while ago, but I prefer to live in denial the week before so I can stress myself out on a time crunch.

Wednesday night we are going to see a clown. I can't even try to explain that one to you.

I spent Saturday night with my friend, Koa, after we met up with our Canadian friends and our new British friend, Selina, at our favorite spot in the Bastille. It was all pretty normal. Although, afterward, we went to a spot called the Hideout that is always packed and plays the greatest music, but it was relatively empty and the vibe was very weird. Koa and I found seats downstairs and were chatting, when 3 different men came up to us in a 5 minute period. It was a new record. By the time the third came up, an Italian, Koa and I assumed accents. I think I was a pretty convincing German. We finally gave up any ability to have a conversation and went home.

The play was pretty uneventful. I was stuck at the end of the aisle next to our theatre professor, who tends to be very picky about the quality of each performance. It was opening night and two leads forgot their lines in the first Act - with a very noticeable pause and some mild breaking of character.

Alright, to work.

My good friend Lucy Bullock has finally settled in at her host parents' in Dublin, Ireland. In case you can't get enough of mine, you can read her blog at: fitzindublin.blogspot.com. She's kind of funny sometimes and - it's Ireland - so I expect some killer photos. I'm on my way in early March or April, but that's a whole other story for another day.

Why Don't I Cook? ....ohhhh riiiiight.....

First of all, last night I babysat for Louis and Paul. I brought them American travel monopoly and bubble tape. The loved the travel monopoly, even though the directions were only in english so they're on their own when I'm not there. Both of them already knew what bubble tape was! I have to admit I was disappointed. Paul and I had a pretty intense bubble blowing contest, which I feel I won, only making me that much cooler to their gorgeous 21 year old brother, Charles.

Afterward, Koa and I met under the Louvre pyramid to go to the reading of love letters from Napoleon to Josephine, from Italy to just before his first exile (when she died). They hired an actress to read them - thin, blonde, very French. She did a great job. The earlier letters were really beautiful. Full of love and devotion. Later, she said a letter that said, in effect, "I don't love you anymore at all. You've clearly made your choice. Why don't I hear from you? What do you do all day, hm?" There was another that said he had heard she was sad and crying all the time. He told her to shape up because he hates mopey people. Another series where he thought she was pregnant, which was really sad. The reading was for a full auditorium and it was really very beautiful. There was time lapse footage behind the actress, sped up a little, of a path in the woods. We watched it go from sunrise to evening as she read the letters. Overall great experience.

Tonight, I woke up late and went to the grocery to buy food my host family's big American feast. Instead of KFC (sort of a joke anyway), I found Old El Paso taco mix in the International Foods section and we went with that - along with Pepperidge Farm cookies. We also had Velveeta Mac and Cheese, black eyes beans, green beans, grits, sweet tea and cornbread. Oh, man, there was SO MUCH food. There is still SO much food. I have black eyed peas for days and days. I think the last time I made them it was the same thing. Among the winners, the sweet tea - seriously, they loved it! (except for my host mom) My host brother asked me to keep it in the main fridge so he could have it when he wanted. The cornbread was too dry and they didn't really like the peas, but the grits went off pretty well. Quentin liked them a lot - he said he was surprised how much he liked them. The mac and cheese was "strange" and the tacos were a big hit! They loved the beef (thank you, God) and the cheddar cheese that I found by accident in the 3 mile long cheese aisle.

I started about two hours early and there was nothing complicated at all - no mixing, no spices, so special recipes or ingredients - but then the stove didn't work. I had to wait for my host dad, only to figure out it was because I had taken all my pots from my little kitchen, which are alluminum, and don't work on the big house stove. Who knew? I tried to keep the mess down, which seemed to work out pretty well.

My host brother asked me if we ate this big of a meal every night in America? I told him no.

They also had never had tacos before - seriously - and they kept asking me if I was sure they weren't supposed to put the green beans in the tacos? I told them I was sure but they could certainly do that if they wanted. I'm sure it would be just fine.

My host mom asked me if tacos were from South Carolina. I told her no, Mexico, but I'm sure the Mexicans wouldn't exactly agree with me over these tacos. Then, I explained the concept of Tex-Mex.

Alright, that's all I have time for now. I'm on my way to hang out with the Brits in the Bastille! More on that to come, for sure.

Insomnia Epidemic in APA

This is the second night in a row that I haven't gotten to sleep until 5:30am. I can tell you guys I, seriously, don't know why. I have had to wake up early both of these mornings for classes, which I did with a few problems but I don't feel that tired during the day and I seem to get a second wind at night. I haven't had any caffeine since I got back to Europe, and otherwise all is normal.

The family cat is in heat, which as I'm sure you can imagine, is just charming. Why do the French refuse to spay their cats? Their stupid cat and all her little man friends were outside my window mewwing allll night long, and then by 5:30 the birds chirped in.

Anyway, it turns out that I am not alone in my state of perpetual awakeness. A couple of us are having the same problem. It is actually bad since I have more than a little bit of work to do for finals this weekend.

Today isn't very interesting except that we are going to a play tonight at the Theatre Mouffetard, very near Jeffery.

Tomorrow, I have my weekly babysitting appointment at Louis and Paul's. I am bringing them American travel monopoly and bubble tape. Afterward, my friend Kate and I are going to a lecture at the Louvre at 8:30. They are discussing and reading Napoleon's letters to Josephine - many of them not appropriate for dainty ears but an interesting reflection on their relationship and his wars in Egypt and Italy. When that is over, I think we are going to meet our new British friends that I met on the train home after my flight.

Saturday is my international dinner for the hosties. I think I'm going to run by KFC and make a batch of sweet tea, along with all the stuff I brought back from the States - just to make it as obnoxious as possible.

So, many good posts to come. I'm feeling kind of tired now...but I guess I should stick it out til after the play tonight...

Jetlag Strikes Back

So, my jet lag has been pretty bad, but I have no one to blame but myself (and the Gilmore Girls). My first night home was fine. I slept a long time in the afternoon, but was tired at my normal bedtime and went right to sleep. (My normal bedtime is about 1am - jet lagged or not.) However, I didn't have anything to do, theoretically, on Sunday so I shamelessly slept until 2pm.

This was a really poor idea.

I spent the entire day in my room vegging out and having a Girlmore Girls marathon, only to discover that come 1am...2am....4am.... I wasn't even the least bit tired. Eventually, I hid my clock because I didn't want to know what time it was, but the sky outside my window was an indication that I was not going to be feeling energized today.

In fact, I forgot late last night/ early this morning that I had completely forgotten about a play I had to read for my first class this afternoon. I set my alarm for early in the morning so I could go buy the play, read it, go to the grocery, the bank, and buy cell minutes. In fact, because of my DVD marathon the night before and my lazy butt all day long, I woke up late despite my alarm and dashed out the door.

Luckily I found the play, Le Jeu de l'amour et du hasard by Marivaux, and wandered into the priest's garden beside the Notre Dame. After about an hour, it was freezing outside and I had about half the play left.

Well, I figured if I went into the heated Notre Dame cathedral and sat in the sanctuary (reserved for prayer and private reflection), maybe I would find exactly the right spot to finish my play. Also, the cathedral is free to enter. Big plus. Luckily for me, the back seats of the sanctuary had been taken over by tourists snapping cameras and nobody seemed to mind -- so much for private reflection.

So, I moved up closer to the front where maybe fewer people would notice that I was not reading a prayer book, but a frivolous aristocratic play. Aside from the dark lighting, the tourists, and the really creepy organ hymns, it actually wasn't such a bad spot. Although, I did keep having these visions that a priest in a big black robe and white collar would make me leave for disrespecting the sanctuary or something. But luckily, Claude Frollo did not show up and I finished just in time. That is to say that the other 75 percent of the stuff on my list did not get done today.

One more quick story. At dinner tonight I was watching the news with my host family and there was a story about oil in France. (I didn't listen to details.) But they kept referring to it as l'Or Noir, which means - literally - "black gold". Ok, first off, this is not the actual name for oil in French and second, how can I not think of the Beverley Hillbillies? So, I'm totally sitting there laughing at the table and my host family has no idea what is so funny and it's useless to explain it to them without sounding crazy. Although, I sounded crazy anyway. Total lose-lose situation.

That was pretty much the highlight of my day. Except that I got to see my friends again, which was great. Now, it is sort of feeling like I never left at all.

Oh! I didn't tell you about my dinner with the old host daughter. Not that much to report, really. She was very fashionable and sweet. The family was really excited to see her. Apparently, she used to have a French boyfriend that practically lived here, too, and would join them for meals all the time. They have since broke up and they asked her a lot of questions about it.

Alright, that's all for now. I'm definitely feeling pretty tired now. Plus, my host dad made crepes for dinner with this cheese called emmental that I don't particularly care for. It is SO rich. It always make me sort of sick when they use too much of it - and by too much I mean more than a pinch. I feel like it's in everything, too. Ew.

Tous les trains vont à Paris (All Trains Go to Paris)

So here is just a quick note - the first of the new year - to let you know I am back safely at my host family's place in Arcueil. I had a secret Christmas wish that they had broken down and gotten wireless for the holidays but that didn't happen.

It was a long flight and I had a lot of trouble with United again - another delayed plane because of late staff. So frustrating. Why do they even tell you that the staff is late? I would be a lot less frustrated if they would keep that detail to themselves.

Didn't get much sleep on the plane but met a couple of really nice people in the waiting room...on the plane...at customs....on the metro. Actually, I gave to directions a really fun group of British students on the train and exchanged email addresses. I wonder where all my other friends are?

There is a lot to do today. Unpack, go to the bank, get some work done (haha. we'll just see if that actually happens), buy minutes for the cell phone. All fighting some pretty lethal jet lag.

I have to say I was feeling pretty awful when I left Mom this morning, uncertain and not really wanting to leave, but as soon as I got back on the RER and everything was suddenly familier again I felt much better. Isn't that strange how Paris is suddenly "familier" and "homey"? Well, to be honest, I haven't really felt "home" as much as I have felt like a boarder living with really really nice people, but either way, I'm back in my element somewhat and feeling a little better.

Tonight Nadia, my predecessor in the Bogros guest house, is having dinner with us and spending the night. I have spoken to her some on facebook and am excited to meet her. The guest room is currently being remodeled though, so the hosties are worried about where to put her up for the night. I told my host mom I would be more than happy to sleep on the couch if Nadia would like to stay in the guest house, but she said, "Absolutely not! That is your house."

Finally, I brought back boxes of Velveeta mac and cheese, grits, cornbread, and black eyed peas to make dinner for the hosties. My host mom has no idea what any of these things are. I was thinking of swinging by KFC, too - Paris style. I'm hoping to cook for them sometime later in the week. That will be interesting. I'll keep you posted.

Classes start again day after tomorrow. Exams in two weeks. Eight page paper due ASAP for my art history class. So much for Christmas - but it's good to be back.