grilled cheese party and not going to class for my own safety

I could have tried to go to class today, but I was just too chicken. Plus, woke up and didn't feel so good. A cold, maybe. Got an email from the prof telling us of an elaborate way to get into the building. She told us that we should be discrete and blah, blah, blah. Just go in through the gate entrance when a car pulls up and follow the car. She didn't say what we should do if the grevistes (or strikers) saw or approached us. Um, explain that you're a foreign exchange student? Say that you're there to help build more barricades and towers of chairs?That's just way too sketchy for my tastes, sneaking in with a car. I didn't want to get cornered and beat up by some French kids, or better yet, I didn't want to kick the asses of some scrawny, scarfed French boys and girls. I could get deported, and I didn't want that. But nah, don't think it'd come to that. They'd probably just talk my ear off until I turned around and left.

So, I read at my spot, the Jardin du Luxem, in front of the Senate and facing the fountain. It was freezing. Thought the sun would keep me pretty warm since it wasn't cloudy, but I was wrong. After a couple chapters, I left.

Thought about more organizing ideas to keep my photos and blog in order. It's really creepy, almost borderline Martha Stewart what I've done/plan to do. Keeping receipts and grocery lists, posting daily, putting dates on photos in my Photobucket. Even putting descriptions, showing the context of each photo taken. Is that too much? It's incredible how much this year means to me, how much I want to document it. And it's not like anything extraordinary is really happening. I just want to remember it all. Is that so bad? I mean, I'm never going to have something like this ever again. After this year, it's back to SF, to film school, and everything's going to be pretty much back to normal. I'll graduate, move back to LA, get a job, and start dating some guy I met on a film shoot. God, when I see it all written there, my future, it just looks so horribly boring. Is this what's going to happen? I'll just be so bored with the present in the future, that I'll keep looking back at my past--all these posts and photos and postcards...I don't know. I hope to God not, 'cuz that's depressing.

At least I'm doing this modern scrapbooking on my own time and not substituting it for going out.

Kristin, Nayo, Susie, and Morgan came over, and we had a grilled cheese party. We went to Franprix together and bought things to chip in: sliced bread, emmenthal cheese (me), camembert, goat cheese (Kristin), pickles and ketchup (Susie), pita and hummous and cider (Morgan), chocolate (Nayo), and Vienneta.

The grilled cheese was tasty, and we watched episodes of "Ready Or Not" on YouTube. Pretty, laidback night. Talked to my landlord when my friends left. Don't know why, but felt a steaming wrath underneath my landlord's calm face when I corrected him saying I had cider and not wine with my cheese tonight. Good thing I didn't say we ate grilled cheese. I just said "cheese" foreseeing myself staying 30 seconds longer than needed in the cold stairwell explaining what grilled cheese was. He might have evicted me then and there.