March so far

It’s been awhile since the last update, but not a whole lot has happened. The usual weekly archive grind continues, complete with the ham and cheese sandwich lunch, which is getting a bit old, but is cheap and easy. It’s hard to believe that it is almost the end of March, but there is still a lot of time between now and when I go back home. I’m looking forward to that more and more.

The weekends have been filled with rugby matches, which have been fantastic to watch. I never thought I’d be all that interested in rugby, as I have not been that exposed to the game and knew literally nothing about it. However, it has been relatively easy to get into, especially when watching it out in Irish pubs with Irish fans. Ireland has had the best year and it was a lot of fun watching them win against all their opponents. By far the most exciting was the final match of Wales versus Ireland for several reasons – firstly, both teams are very good, Wales being the defending champions, secondly, because Ireland has not won a grand slam since 1948 and thus had a lot riding on the last game. I was worried that the game would not live up to the hype that the announcers were making all through the earlier games. It lived up to the hype and then some. It was the single most thrilling sporting event that I have ever witnessed. Both teams fought hard the whole game and the score was kept close. In the final minutes, the leading kicker for Ireland scored to bring the Irish ahead by 2. However, a penalty kick in the final seconds was the game decider. The Welsh player who had scored all of the points for the team was the kicker and if he made it, Wales would have won…the ball missed by inches and the Irish bar that I was in erupted in applause. It was very exciting for the Irish who received medals from none other than Prince William. I am sad that the series is over, but happy that the Irish won.

Other happenings were a beer pong match amongst nations: France vs. USA – I am happy to report that the USA team of Joe and Jaime defended national pride and bested the French. There was another general strike on Thursday, which meant another day off from the Archives, since they almost always participate. I did not mind as I was once again struck down with a head cold. Also, my birthday was on Friday and we went out to the Hard Rock Café and the Highlander, both of which were a good time. It was odd being in Paris for my birthday and although I received a lot of birthday wishes from back home, I was a bit sad to be away from home. Today, I finally made it to Jim Morrison’s grave in Père Lachaise cemetery – flowers and pictures surrounded him. Walking through the cemetery was a bit morbid AND a black cat ran across my path. Hopefully nothing bad comes of it.

Another two weeks of working in the archives and then FINALLY I get to see Dan!!! I am beyond excited to have him in Paris and many days it has been the thought of seeing him that has gotten me through my work. I am looking forward to showing him and city and also seeing parts of it myself that I haven’t gotten around to yet. I hope that April 4th comes very quickly!!!!

The highlights and lowlights of the last two weeks

Sorry that it has taken me so long to post about Florence, but I haven't had the motivation to get it all down, and with this weekend's craziness, I had even more to talk about, so it will all be put here, as briefly as I can say it.

Florence: I can't believe I was getting ready to leave for Florence two weeks ago! The start of the trip was less than excellent. I made it out to the airport in Paris no problem, found my gate, and waited...waited for the plane to arrive, waited to get on the plane, and then waited on the plane for 45 minutes. This would not have been a problem had I not had a mere 40 minute gap between when I was supposed to land in Zurich, Switzerland and when I was supposed to catch my next plane there to Florence. Needless to say, I missed my connection, which again, would have been fine, since they set me up on the next flight out, but there were several problems: 1. The next flight was not until 5:45 (my original flight was at 12:50), 2. Mike was waiting at the airport in Florence for me to arrive at 2pm, 3. Both he and I had no way to contact each other, 4. Neither of us had each other's information on where we were staying in Florence. I asked the person who gave me my new ticket if there was a way to contact the airport, and they said that if Mike asked a Swiss Air employee, they would tell him of my situation. That turned out to be a LIE, but I would not know that until later. So I had about 5 hours to kill in Zurich - which sucked, except I met a nice Moroccan Dutchman who I had lunch with because he had also missed his connection. My sense is that the Moroccans are nice people, as the two that I've met have been very pleasant and sociable. Anyway, I bought some Swiss chocolate and waited the 5 hours, boarded my flight and prayed that my bag would make it and that Mike would be there. After arriving in Florence and getting through a rather gruff passport check, I got my bag and walked out to find that I was alone. I totally did not blame Mike for thinking that I had flaked, why else would I not be where I said I would? I grabbed a cab to my hotel, which was really nice and had a minibar and I was able to use my mom and Jaime to make contact with Mike and we ended up meeting up the next day and spending a fantastic day in Florence. The city was fairly quiet and I got to see a lot of things that I wanted to see the last time I was there. I even went back to the same shop that I bought my wallet in 2007 and the shop owner was so nice, at least to me - He kept saying "For you, (meaning me) I take off 5 euro, but not for you (meaning Mike)." The Italians love women. We had an amazing meal with pasta and wine for dinner and then had some equally amazing gelatto, which you cannot leave Italy without having. We also went to a bar run by one of Joe Stanley's friends who was very nice to us and made me some awesome mixed drinks. All in all, the day I actually spent in Florence was worth the hassle of getting there and I am so glad that I went! I love the city and hope to go back again in the not so distant future.

After getting back, I went back to the archives the following day and then went out on Saturday with Jaime to meet up with Abby, the Aussie, and her friend Katie. We went to a Jazz bar and it was very cool - very different from the pubs we usually go to. They sang some classic French standards and threw in some American music - including "Proud Mary". They asked for requests, but didn't take my call for some "Frère Jacques" - I thought it would really get the crowd involved. What can I say, I'm obnoxious. We then left the jazz bar to meet up with some other folk at another bar which was a mistake because it was not as fun, except for this really odd guy who kept saying that we were all from Tazmania. We put him on and said yes, but he was weird. The next day, Jaime and I had brunch at this awesome place called "Breakfast in America" where you can get eggs, pancakes, homefries, coffee, oj, toast, bacon, etc in a diner atmosphere. We had to wait almost 3o-45 minutes to get in cause the place is tiny, but it was worth it. I've been crazing a proper brunch since we got here and this was the first place that delivered. It was so great that we went to its second location yesterday. I think that when you live in Paris for an extended time as opposed to visit for a short stint, you seek out things that are comforting and normal to you instead of looking to soak in all you can of the Parisian culture, since you LIVE that culture day in and day out.

If I thought that I had experienced craziness in Paris up to this weekend, I was proved wrong after Friday night. We met up with Jess, the au pair, who is sadly leaving Paris for Australia on Tuesday and will be missed. We tried to get dinner at another soul food place, but again struck out, so we went back up to the pub we ate at in Montmartre a few weeks ago. It was then decided to go back to the Highlander, our favorite pub, for drinks. What a decision that turned out to be. We got there in time to watch the latter half of the France vs. Wales rugby game. As in the previous weeks with the Scots, there were many Welsh fans there, mostly older men (40s, 50s). No kilts, as the Welsh wear red and daisies to show their pride. France was victorious and the Welsh fans were sad, but still in the mood to party. We ended up striking up a conversation with a few of the gentlemen, including one half-Welsh, half-English man who was only allowed to wear pink because he was not fully Welsh. He was the most normal person we would talk to that night. We three girls spent the next hour to hour and a half surrounded by middle aged Welsh men and one VERY drunk 72 year old Welshman who said the most inappropriate things to all of us that I won't repeat, mostly because I could not understand 75 percent of what he said. It was a good time, except Jaime was once again the target of handsiness, courtesy of the 72 year old. One of the men was a bit younger and we had fun talking to him about music, the US, and sang a rousing chorus of "Bohemian Rhapsody" and "Fight for your right to party." If the night had ended there, it would have made a good story...but it did not.

So we were still spending time with the old Welshman when in walked some younger ones in red rugby shirts. One of them immediately, and I mean immediately, walked up and put his arms around Jess and Jaime and proceeded to be very friendly despite their lack of interest. He was quite large, quite drunk, and I don't think any of us understood a word he said all night. He licked my hand at one point and hit me in the eye with his glass and I told him I was married, Jess told him she was dating a bartender, and poor Jaime was stuck with him. The cool older Welsh guy tried to intercede to get this guy off of her, but it took Barry, our favorite bartender, threatening him with a cold shower to get him to stop, and even then, it wasn't until he was literally thrown out of the bar that we were free of his drunken antics. A few of the other boys bought us drinks and seemed far less drunk/unintelligible, so we talked to them. Jess chatted with Mark, who I was told was a big time kayaker and plumber, don't ask me how either goes together. Jaime and I talked to Rhys and Davies, who told us of their estates in Wales and yacht in Majorca and how we were invited there anytime. I don't believe a word of this, but who knows. It was at this point that I decided to ask their ages, since they didn't appear old enough to have all this wealth. They were all 20! Could not believe it, mostly because you would not see a 20 year old in a bar in the US (at least not openly) and because we were all 6 years older than them. They didn't seem to care and when we needed to leave to catch the metro, they walked us to the stop, and then continued to follow us. We weren't sure what to do with them, they didn't know where they were or where they needed to go, so we came back to the apartment briefly and then headed back out again to another bar. Many bars here are open to 5, so we were lucky. Davies was over the whole night way before the other two were and was constantly trying to catch a cab, to no avail. It was insane, but finally Jaime and I were able to leave them, despite pleas by Rhys for us to stay and hang out more. It was a crazy night and I must say that I find the Welsh to be the most insane of the British isle folk - and they also HATE the English.

Speaking of the English, I was able to watch Ireland beat the English the next day in rugby. Rugby is a fun sport to watch, much more entertaining than soccer, in my opinion, and much more violent. Plus, watching Ireland play in an Irish bar, as I did on Saturday, was even more fun. Saturday night was spent at the Highlander again, but was much more low key. Just a few drinks, some entertainment provided by Barry and another bartender as they practiced some bottle tricks, and some good music. It is by far my favorite bar in Paris and probably anywhere that I have been - it is so chill and the people that work there are really nice - and they always have a drink special for 5 euro that I actually like. I would and usually do go there every week. It is also a nice break from the archives and from Paris. It doesn't feel like you are in Paris in the bar, but then walking outside across the Pont Neuf, it feels like REAL Paris as you see the Seine and the Eiffel Tower. I will miss the Highlander and that walk when I leave Paris as it is by far the highlight of my weekends here.

There's more stuff that I left out, but I think I hit all the worthwhile stories for the time being. Coming up on the agenda is Fall Out Boy in concert on the 10th in my neighborhood, my birthday on the 20th (feel free to send presents!) and basically waiting for April to get here so that I can finally see Dan. 3 months left here, I can only imagine what else can happen.

Valentine's Day Weekend: Scots, Rugby, and Food other than Hamburgers

I haven't had the chance to write down the madness that was Valentine's Day weekend, so I will do that before posting about my exciting time in Florence, because it is worth it to have recorded for posterity. Friday the 13th was spent at the American bar (once again with Everlast dutifully serving the drinks). Before meeting there, Jaime and I tried to eat at this soul food place in the area, only to find that it was a grocery store. It may have been like the French "Cracker Barrel" with a store in the front and restaurant in the back, but it did not look like it. With little time left before we were supposed to meet up, we did the only thing we could - we went and got burgers. Granted, they were good, but I may need to swear off the burgers for awhile after I leave Paris. That and anything with ham. Anyway, the burgers were good, we made it to the bar and met with Joe and Graham. Laura and Art (two other H-Francers and generally good people) also showed. It was decided at one point that we should go downstairs to play beer pong, since the bar had to be the only place in Paris where one could do that. Joe, Art, and Jaime are seasoned vets at the game, but I, not being a beer drinker, have never played. Laura and Graham were also not quite up to the game, but since we needed teams, I agreed to play if Joe would drink all the beer. I think it turned out worse for him than he thought because he did not know the skill he was up against with Jaime. I played one game, sunk one ball, and was done. Joe was determined to win, and ended up playing and drinking four games worth of beer, all for naught. He could not beat the tag team of Jaime and Art. At the end of the night, the bartender bought us shots and we were on our way after agreeing to meet up the following night at the Highlander for more good times.

Valentine's Day was an event unto itself. While most of the day was spent doing the usual cleaning and laundry, we had two gatherings to attend - a dinner party at Sam's and then a "farewell to Laura" event at the Highlander (Laura went to Germany for a bit, but will be back in April). First up was Sam's. I procured a delightful looking bagette, Jaime got wine and strawberries and over we went. Sam was a gracious host and we got to meet the lovely Valeria who interns for Dior (I need to get my hands on some freebies!), but everyone else was running rather late. This would not have been a problem if we didn't have to leave to meet the other group at the Highlander AND if the person who was bringing the food wasn't also one of the ones who was late. 8:45 rolls around (the event was set for 7pm) and no one else is there and we had to leave - without eating, which was a problem since the Highlander does not serve food. We grabbed some goods out of the vending machine, proceeded to watch some dancing by a 12 year old, who was very good, and made it to the Highlander to discover that our friends were not there, but a group of about 20 Scots in full kilts were. After hearing a rousing chorus of The Proclaimer's hit "500 Miles" and meeting an American who is in Paris playing football, we desperately needed food and thus headed to the Moose where we were able to get some quesadillas and thus keep from passing out.

It is at this point that the night took an interesting turn. We returned to the Highlander, the Scots were still there and even sang another chorus of The Proclaimers before busting out the bagpipes and singing derogatory songs about the English. Sitting at the bar and watching soccer, Jaime was approached by a very friendly young man named Ali who did not speak any English. He chatted her up before introducing himself to me and seemed very pleasant. A little too pleasant, as it turned out. Being Valentine's Day, I think Ali got caught up in the romance of the day as he turned to each Jaime and I in turn to whisper "Je t'aime" or "I love you." I informed him that I was married, thinking that would get me off the hook, but he replied "Pas de problem" and said something to the effect of life being short. I emphasized that my status was indeed a problem for anything he might be thinking of and after a little more back and forth, I think he got the hint - which was good for me, but bad for Jaime as he got even more friendly with her, "dancing" with her, which really just involved shaking her about like a doll. When he got a little too handsy, it was time to get out of there. As Jaime had found out in the course of conversing that he lived on our metro line, running out the door was not an option. So, we went downstairs to the other part of the bar and buddied up with the female bartender from the Bronx, a lovely girl who was a big help. Persistent Ali got the hint and left and we were done with him, or so we thought. As we were crossing the street to get to the metro stop, he appeared out of nowhere and asked Jaime for her number. After telling him that she literally did not have a phone, he left. (Postscript : Ali would be spotted again by Jaime on Wednesday in the Post Office, but hopefully never again).

Sunday was a more leisurely day spent taking in the city. Found a nice little brunch spot were I had some eggs benedict that were pretty good although the bacon was less than stellar. After that, we went to another Irish bar to watch some rugby (Italy vs Ireland) and what a violent sport that is! More fun to watch than soccer, in my opinion, but violent as hell. It was a blowout by the Irish, but the commentator was not impressed and went on and on about how the Irish need to step up their game. High standards, I suppose.

All in all, an interesting weekend, although it was kind of depressing to be in a beautiful city such as Paris on Valentine's Day without Dan. Next up will be the happenings this week, which included Florence, Italy, but that will have to wait for tomorrow...

This weekend

While most of this week was spent doing the usual archival work, and was thus uneventful, Saturday night was rather exciting as there was a dinner party at the apartment. The party was set in motion on Monday night when we were at trivia for the second week in a row. Jessica, the au pair that was there the previous week, was there again and she introduced us to her friend Sam, a Moroccan who lives in Paris, and it was determined that Saturday should be a get together at our place for food and wine. The party plans were very tentative in terms of what to eat, and we actually didn’t know what we were eating until Sam and Jessica showed up. Jaime put herself in charge of appetizers and fried rice and stir-fry veggies, and I volunteered to get the dessert from the local pastry and bread shop that I love. They put the desserts in the cutest little box that I plan to keep. Sam and Jessica showed with veal, lots of wine, and chocolates. Sam had a “couch-surfer” from South Korea who also joined and since she did not speak much English, so it was a good way to practice my French beyond my usual three or four phrases. Sam, who speaks both French and English, was very helpful in correcting me and I was able to communicate fairly well. All in all, everyone had a fabulous time and I’m looking forward to doing it again.

Today was spent sleeping in and heading up to the Montmartre area, which is where the Moulin Rouge is. It’s the red-light district of Paris and thus filled with exactly what you would expect to be there. We found a lovely Irish pub to have lunch and take in some soccer and I partook in some fish and chips. The bartenders, as most bartenders tend to be in Irish/Scottish pubs, were great fun, but weren’t Irish. One was Dutch and the other was Swiss. The Dutch guy was a trip, he put on a Ween album and was singing along and let us ask questions to his magic 8 ball. I find the bartenders to be very nice here as they at least try to make conversation with you. The cafes are a little stuffier in that respect. I would go back to the pub, for sure.

One thing that I’m not pleased about is the fact the owner of the apartment informed me that my phone card access number was a charge number. So beyond paying for the phone card, I was paying per minute that I used the card to the tune of 35 euro. While it could have been worse, and I am thankful to the owners for giving me the heads up on the charges, I’m still pissed. But, that’s not really a slight against the French as it is against the phone card company. Anyway, I found a different number that I don’t think has charges, so I’ve been using that.

I’ve been here a month and while some things are getting easier, such as riding the metro everyday and navigating the archives, I’m starting to miss things more. I miss driving my car so much. I miss being around my friends and family and Dan. I enjoy meeting the new people, but in a way it makes me miss everyone else even more. Anyway, I’m getting by and I hope all is well back home!

Made it through January!

Today is the last day of Janaury and I feel somewhat accomplished having made it to another month, although I haven't quite been here a month yet. This past week was not very exciting, mostly because I have been sick since Tuesday - nothing serious, just a head cold that everyone here and apparently back home seem to be dealing with. I'm feeling much better today, so I think the worst is over. Needless to say, being sick meant that I didn't do much this week. Monday, we went to trivia at a bar called "The Lions". The place was packed and the trivia was in English - so we were at a slight advantage - especially when one of the questions involved naming the Great Lakes - I'm not sure how up on that sort of thing the French are. At the trivia, we met an American from California that was our age who is here for six months as an au pair for a French family. She was very nice and it was cool to meet someone outside of the history field to just speak normally to. She watches 4 children and lives in the servant's quarters in the building - makes me feel very fortunate to have my own apartment here! Half the people I hear about are living in places that sound less than ideal - small spaces, rented rooms, and the like.

After the excitement of Monday trivia came my feeling sick. I still went in on Tuesday and Wednesday, albeit for shorter stays, but decided to sit Thursday out as I wanted to recover AND there was a strike that affected a lot of things such as metros, planes, trains, stores, etc. I found out yesterday that the AN wasn't even open on Thursday, so I'm glad that I didn't bother to go in. I didn't really get to experience much of the strike since I was indoors all day, but Jaime went out and took pictures of some of the gatherings down at République. I'm hoping that there won't be many more strikes, at least not ones that will affect my work since I'm only here for a few months, but with the economy still down and people still upset at the lack of help from the government, who knows? The French love their strikes.

Last night we were craving some American steak dinners, so we found the "Texas Roadhouse/Outback" of Paris called the "Buffalo Grill" which is a chain restaurant in France. I should explain that most Europeans picture America in terms of the West, specifically the Wild West, and love things that have to do with that. But, we benefitted from their love of all of that last night for dinner. Although the meal was satisfying, I will say that the quality of steak is much better in America than here. The French know pastries, breads, hams, desserts, cheese and wine, but steak is best left to the Americans, I think. Tonight we are heading out to a place that is supposed to have the best burgers in Paris. I haven't ventured too far into French food yet because I don't know what half of the things on the menu are. I mean, I know how to spot the protein items like beef, chicken, duck, etc, but some of the titles of dishes make no sense to me and I'm hesitant to just order something, especially since we only eat out on the weekends and by that point I'm dying to eat something normal and good. Maybe I'll take more culinary risks as time goes on, but for now I'm good with steak, burgers, and chicken. We are also meeting some folks out including Jaime's new Aussie friend Abby and possibly Joe if he isn't sick.

I hope all is well with everyone back home. I still miss everyone and of course Dan and am looking forward to when I come home and can get back to normal life in New York. Until next time...

Second week down!

I'll try to keep this short, since I've been told by people (ok, just Kim) that I tend to write too much for one blog. It's just that I have a ton to say since I don't get to do a whole lot of talking here, as my daily use of French is limited to "Bonjour", "Merci", "Pardon" and asking for microfilm cartons. So, forgive my lengthy passages, I just miss communication in English!

The rest of the week played out as usual - me going to the AN from 9-4:15, looking at microfilm all day, returning home to eat dinner, kill time and go to sleep to get up and do it again the next day. I did get to look at actual documents on Thursday, which was really cool for a history nerd such as myself. Looking at the stuff on microfilm is not quite the same as holding it in your hands and knowing that the people that you are studying held it in their hands too. That may sound weird, but it was cool to me. I think that I have made friends with the guys who work in the microfilm room - they know me as the American girl who always hands in her stuff and says "Terminé" at the end of every day. Plus I'm there every day, so they seem to realize that I'm there for a purpose and not just some idiot looking up stuff for fun - who would go to the National Archives to look stuff up on microfilm for fun anyway? One of them even said "Au revoir" to me yesterday, so I have to be getting in their good graces, I hope.

Last night Jaime and I went out with an H-Francer named Joe who goes to FSU and studies cotton under Napoleon - no I don't know what exactly about cotton he cares about. We went to this American bar in the Marais area called "Miller's" that had a beer pong table - probably the only one in Paris. The bartender/owner was not who you would picture in terms of the type of guy that would open a bar in Paris in the Marais (very gay friendly) district. He was kinda gruff, kinda looked like Everlast (not from House of Pain days, more from "Whitey Ford Sings the Blues" era). Anyway, we were there early for happy hour and were practically the only ones there, which was fine. We got to exchange some graduate school/archival work in Paris stories as Joe has been here since November. He had an interesting tale about one of his fellow graduate students at FSU - which happens to have a Napoleon Institute - and attracts those diehard Napoleon fans. Well, one of the guys is more than a fan, he's a Napoleon stalker. Joe shares an office with him and says he has posters, busts, statues, of Napoleon, or as he calls him, "The Emperor," all over the place. He even does his own watercolor pictures of Napoleon in some of his more famous poses. Apparently, Joe made the mistake of asking the kid one day about what drew him to Napoleon. He answered, "Well, there was a time in my life when I was down and out and I needed someone to turn to, someone that I could look up to, someone who could be a father figure. Napoleon was that someone." Joe opted to not pursue the conversation any further after that. I have a desire to make contact with this crazy Napoleon-loving psycho because I am fascinated with anyone that obsesses about historical figures. I'll let you know if I follow through.

We took Joe over to the Highlander for a few more drinks although the crazy Irish bartenders were not there. We stayed out until midnight and then headed back home. It was good to hang out with another ex-pat in the same situation and get their take on the insanity that is archival research.

Today I haven't done much besides clean up the apartment and do laundry - exciting stuff, I know. Probably going to head out to dinner later and find out what the neighborhood has to offer. So far we have not opted to check out the local fare, but it may be time to give Place de Fêtes a chance to impress. Anyway, I, as always, miss America and all she has to offer (DAN!) and hope the slightly warmer temperatures are making people happy. Oh - and if anyone would like to leave a comment so I know that people actually read this thing, that would be very appreciated!

Some initial observations

After being in Paris nearly two weeks, I have a few things that I have noticed that stand out to me as specifically Parisian, or at least French. They are as follows:



1. No matter what time of day or where you are, you will pass someone on the street eating and walking. I see at least 5 or 6 people on my way from the Archives to the metro eating a sandwich of sorts and it makes me both hungry and awed that they can walk and chew so effortlessly. And it is usually a bread product that is being eaten because the French love their breads and pastries. No Atkins diet for these people - not ever and thank God because they do make a fine bagette. I had the pleasure of discovering an award winning boulangerie just down the street and their bagettes are fantastic!



2. The escalator is nothing but moving stairs to nearly all Parisians. If you aren't walking up or down the escalator at a fast clip, you will be passed. For some reason, again, no matter what time of day, people are always in a rush. Don't even get me started on the moving walkways. I try to keep a good pace on those and I am still passed. So, if you want to allow the escalator to do its job, you better keep to the right, cause these people have got places to go.



3. I have noticed several older French men and women walking with both hands clasped behind their backs, which looks rather uncomfortable, but somehow very French. I don't quite understand it, but they seem to make it work. I don't know that I've seen people walk like that anywhere else.



4. The Parisians dress weird. For instance, there is a man in the microfilm room who wears a full-on tuxedo every day. The first time I saw him, I did a double-take and looked around to see if anyone else in the room noticed this madness. No one did. And he was there again today wearing the same thing. The guy looks like he should be conducting a symphony, not sitting in a microfilm room, but that's Paris. And I won't even get into the interesting outfits I see on the metro, the men in pointy shoes and tight pants, or the teenage girls in the most mis-matched outfits you have ever seen. But, I guess that's the style.



That is about all I can think of for the moment, but I'm sure that I will have more as time goes on. I had an interesting night last night as I took in the Obama inauguration in a bar near the Tuilleries. H-France was meeting there to watch the festivities, but I got there right before 5:30 our time (11:30 EST) and the place was packed! I mean crammed from wall to wall. I squeezed my way in and got a view of the TV which was on CNN. It was weird to be in Paris watching the US inauguration, but the French love our politics, at least when it comes to Obama. When Bush or Cheney came on the screen, people booed and when they saw Obama, they cheered. There was this one flaming gay guy who did not like the pastor from the Saddleback Church who gave the convocation because apparently he was a big supporter of appealing the right to gay marriage in California, so he got all fired up and started singing "To the left, to the left" a la Beyonce, which was funny. Although I couldn't really move for an hour and a half, it was cool to be watching the inauguration, and the bar even joined in the last few bars of the national anthem. Paris loves Obama!



No plans for the rest of the week besides working at the AN. One of the H-Francers was there today, so I had someone to talk to during my brief lunch break. I'm still in the microfilm room, but I hope to be done with it soon. I took some pictures of the apartment that I will be putting up on Facebook and probably Myspace, so those who want to see the glamorous life I'm living here (yeah right!) can check out my digs. I miss everyone (DAN the most!), would love to hear from ANYONE, and I hope all is well back home!