a year ago

Yesterday, while on the way to Ikea with Lucia, I realized that a year ago we arrived in Paris.

When I look back on that girl I think, "OH YOU ARE SO NAIVE!!!" haha...But seriously, a year has changed A LOT, and I wouldn't trade my year in Paris for anything else. I am so happy that it has brought me to a place where I am now, mentally. Physically, not so much--I'm back in SF. But if I can get through a year in Paris, I can get through a year in SF. Believe me.

I don't ever want to be the girl I was back then, and moving back here feels like a step backwards, a road towards that other girl. It's not like moving back to LA, which will always be home. But SF has always felt temporary, never my home, just a vacation from family. Maybe it'll change this year, but I really wouldn't care if it did since I can't wait to go back to LA. At least, I'm making our place (Lucia is my roommate!) a real sanctuary.

settling in

I am finally getting back into that groove. That So Cal groove that I usually adopt whenever I'm back at home during summers or breaks. Reading the LA Times before my parents can get to it (if I'm lucky and wake early). Making tea in my skivvies. Eating my Mom's multivitamins...I am back...for the most part.

Hung out with my cousin Ellen who is here from nor cal. I've got a lot of family in nor cal. Dorked out on the laptoppies all morning with my brother watching You Tube videos and when he left for work, Ellen and I got some sushi for lunch.

Ellen's staying at my Grandma's while she's here. Grandma is...an interesting character. Definitely this matriarch figure that has played an important role in all her grandchildren's lives. She's sharp, derisive, and hilarious. Always at our house parties, she'll be sitting in a really comfortable chair while my Mom or someone goes to fix her plate of food and everyone who enters the party goes to greet her first before doing anything else. And, according to Kuya, she shit-talks when she plays mah-jong.

Ellen and I hung out at G-ma's and rented some movies our theme being "school" since Ellen's a grade-school teacher and so was G-ma. Got Charlie Bartlett and Rocket Science. Around 1 am, Kuya arriving from his shift came by and we all went to Norm's for late-night grub. That just feels so So Cal to me. I remember going to Denny's or some other late night diner after prom and going to shows.

I'm starting to feel normal again, and maybe less special and unique. When in Paris, I labeled myself as "American in Paris" or maybe "study abroad student". And that was cool, you know, people found that interesting, especially when meeting American tourists. There's always this sense of superiority when walking amongst American tourists or any tourists in Paris. I've never been one to feel superior to anyone until Paris. I especially felt super cool and snob when I'd walk past them with great purpose while they stare at their maps trying to figure out the metro system. Ordering food at St. Michel and asking for sauce samurai while they just pointed at the white stuff. That felt good, I must confess. Being an American, and yet having that "in" in a crazy, sometimes harsh city. But maybe any local gets that feeling when surrounded with tourists.

I'm really going to miss that.

And now I'm just a regular student, a 5th year senior at SFSU. That window in which I can say "I just got back from Paris for a year" is shrinking. At least some people here in so cal find me being a student up north a little exotic, case in point the boys at Apple. But I need to start feeling good about myself again, without that superiority of living abroad.

things to do

I have so much crap to do.

Came home to find my room a vrai bordel (literally a "real brothel" but it translates to mess or chaos) since Dad put hardwood in and then just set all my stuff on top of the furniture. I really need to get rid of a lot of stuff, because I keep everything. And if living in that Parisian studio the size of my now bedroom taught me anything, it's that my possessions should be kept to a minimal because it makes my life clutter-free. It's kind of weird adjusting to hardwood because everytime I get out of bed, I go "huh!" when my feet touch the cold, hard floor.

Met with Catherine, and she's going to find a place to live along with Morgan, my old roommate, somewhere in SF, probably the Sunset or in Daly City. I won't be too much help since I'll be down here. My only parameters are that it's biking distance to school. I'd prefer Daly City since the market's closer too, but it'd be nice to have a chance to live in the city. I don't know, I never got to really know SF, as well as I've known Paris. It'd be nice to be with unique people again though. Walked around the OC yesterday and every girl just looked like the other. Paris can be like that sometimes, but at least some people have their own individual style. Here every girl looks almost the same. I just want to go up to one of them and shake them and say, "Wake up! You can wear what you want!

Finally weighed myself for the first time, and holy crap I'm back to my senior high school weight which is the same weight I came to Paris with. CRAP. I definitely lost weight in Paris, even my parents noticed it when they visited. But I gained in Spain during our trip. I blame the late night paella eating and all the driving. I'm confident I'm going to lose it though--more confident than any of my past weight lost efforts--because even in this heat I have all this unexplainable ADD like energy. I've been cleaning my room non-stop because I just hate having disorder, and I've been working out. I just want to go to my Paris weight.

why I love where I live

There's a small leak above my kitchen sink, and for some reason I thought my landlord Mr. Bassoul would be mad (there's been a lot of bad landlord things going on among Micefa students) even though it wasn't my fault. I've been really lucky. He came over and made an appointment with a plumber for tomorrow, and he wasn't mad just sorry about the inconvenience. I've been catching the water and using it to water plants and do dishes since it's clean, and he's really happy about that. "I like the way you think!" he said. He really cares about recycling and stuff.

He also gave me the address to his website! If you didn't know already, every Sunday morning from 11H to 14H I can hear him play his accordion and sing songs. He plays right in front of my church and people come to sing along and dance. Check out his website.

Other reasons to love where I live...So my opera singing French neighbor--I kid you not, I hear him practicing during the day with piano accompaniment--was probably super drunk last night since he was singing from his window to the people down below. Don't know if you can see him in the photo in the bottom right.It was beautiful. I think the way our buildings are placed allow for great acoustics. Some woman praised his singing from the street, and he proceeded to drague ("hit on") her from 3 stories above! Oh these French men! They exchanged digits for all to hear. He kept singing all night then ending it with, "Jean-Louis! Celibataire!" ("Single!")

Today was an especially lovely Sunday morning. Sun was out, Mr. Bassoul was playing his accordion, and the marketplace was bright with fresh fruits and vegetables. Called Lucia to see if she was up for free museum Sunday (my last one!). She ended up being at Keisha's, only a couple blocks away. She moved out of her studio and away from her horrible, evil landlady. We met and did some grocery shopping together. I love grocery shopping on Sundays. It's the best here. Got some pitas, hummus, and beer at the Franprix, cantaloupe and watermelon from the vendors. Went back to my place and I made lunch. So tasty. Stuffed pitas filled with hummus, tziki (sp?), salad, carrots, and tomatoes with a side of potatoes and grilled aubergine. Yum! Add that and a bottle of Kronenburg. Then we had the melons that we cut up beforehand for fruit salad and put in the fridge to cool. I put the table closer to the window so we could hear the music. I really like this set-up. Might keep it like this for the rest of my time here. For free museum day we went to the Musée National du Moyen-Age Thermes de Cluny which Lucia and I both wanted to see before leaving. Moyen Age means Middle Ages. I was really excited to see the Lady and the Unicorn tapestries.

Lucia's leaving in less than two weeks. It's already June. I can't believe how fast this all went by. And I'm going to turn 22 on the 23rd. Weird. I feel grown up, but in a lot of ways, I feel like a child.

LISTMANIA
Books I want to read when I get back home:

• The Odyssey by Homer and my old copy of Greek myths: Being in Sicily reminded me to brush up on the classics. Whenever at a famous site I was asked if I knew the stories but I said that I read them a while back and couldn't remember them well.
• Books on Arthurian legends, Aesop's Complete Fables, and the Brothers Grimm Tales: I need to reconnect with my childhood. They're also just good to read.
• On Writing by Stephen King: Because I heard it was deece, and "LOST" referenced it (white bunnies with numbers on their backs).

Places to eat at in LA and SF:

• Home. Dad's steak, Mom's pansit and stir-fry vegetables in oyster sauce, WHITE RICE! from a rice cooker...All this eating and sitting outside in the backyard with the smell of barbeque in the air.
• Tommy Burger's on Rampart and W. Beverly Blvd. (I'm getting a cheeseburger, chili cheese fries, and a root beer.)
• In N Out by my house. (Cheeseburger, animal-style fries, and a strawberry lemonade.)
• Lucille's in Brea. Full rack baby back ribs, fries, and coleslaw. I'm salivating already.
  
• That really good ice cream shake place in Eagle Rock that I went to with my brother before leaving but was closed. Why do you close at 10pm on a Friday?!
• Taco Nazo for fish tacos.
• That burrito place that Dad took me to in LA for a wet burrito and tortilla chips.
• Pho Huynh Hiep 3 at Westlake Village in Daly City
• Mitchell's for ice cream in SF
• bubble milk tea at Lollicup
  

parisian sundays

Another lovely Parisian Sunday yesterday despite the crummy weather that came around 16h-ish. Went to church with Lucia near the Arc de Triomphe. Then, since it was sunny out, we dined outdoors at a brasserie in St. Michel. We both got formules: salad, steak and frites. Lucia had wine, and I had a Coke. The Coke here tastes better than Coke at home. It's not too strong--it's a little flat, but it still has bite to it. They also serve it with lemon.

We listened to conversations going on around us. Our favorite was this couple and the girl's guy friend happened to walk by and stopped to talk for a really long time, and her date was just emanating so much hatred for the dude. I mean, this guy friend was a total douche, just flirting right in front of her date. When he left, she apologized to him. After our food, we declined the waiter's offer to serve us coffee. We decided to get coffee somewhere else.

I love the idea of "meal hopping". Getting a meal one place, then dessert and coffee somewhere else. I've done it a couple times back in SF around North Beach. We went to my favorite café nearby Notre-Dame. I love this place because for a café crème they give you your own milk pourer thingy so you can control how much you want. Lovely. And I love the cups they use. If I find any here or back home, I'm getting some.It's touristy, but I still love it, just being surrounded by people from all over the world. The chairs are super comfy as well. Lucia and I talked for an hour or so, probably more. It's funny how much time can go by just when you're really engrossed in a conversation with a friend.

I learned some things about where we're staying in Sicily.

1. The beach is behind the house we're staying in.
2. Our beach faces the east--we can watch the sunrise.
3. The beach is ours.

I think I just peed in my pants a little. Out of excitement, of course. I'm debating whether or not to bring the video camera. I'd love to film, but I also hate the idea of being burdened by all this stuff. I'm trying to go light for two weeks, bringing only my backpack (which can hold 40 liters) and a purse. Just the idea of having the camera, the dv camera, in addition to what I usually carry in a bag already hurts my shoulders. I'll think about it.

i love wednesdays.

Wednesday is the best day of my week. It's my favorite class, the week is almost over, and I can always look forward to lunch with the girls after our History of Paris on-site visit. Usually we pick something close to the site we visit or depending on what we're craving. Today, we visited Jardin du Luxembourg and ate at Crêpes à Go Go. Kathy's parents were with us, and they haven't had crêpes yet.

The visit was great. Luxembourg is my fave place to read and chill, so learning more about it just helps me appreciate it more. I love how sometimes we hang back to take photos, and our teacher keeps walking and talking and pointing--she just looks crazy. A crazy French lady talking to herself. But she's not that at all. She's lovely. I was looking at something far away and walking at the same time, and I totally crashed into her. Everyone laughed, including Kathy's parents who came along. She didn't mind it though.

I got the set menu for the crêpes (which includes a ham and cheese crêpe, a crêpe with sugar for dessert, and a choice of café or cider) along with an orange pressé which is pretty much pure squeezed orange juice with water on the side to add as much as you want. They have the same thing for lemons and grapefruits. We split up after lunch--Melissa went with Kathy and her parents to show them the Sorbonne, and I went with Lucia to the Phone House so that she can get a new telephone. Hers broke.

After, Lucia went to class, and I hung around looking into all the great stores on Rue Soufflot. La Sorbonne is nearby and some other schools, so there's a lot of papeteries (stationery and school supplies) as well as bookstores. Then I walked home. A great day.

I'm going through the advanced production class application process right now. It's a little tough since I'm abroad, but I'm in contact with the production coordinator who's an awesome guy, so he told me how to go about it. I really can't wait to get back into my film classes, especially my screenwriting II with Prof. McBride. I'm kind of scared that he's expecting a lot from me when I come back.

My best friend, Catherine, from SF has an Imdb page! Check it! It's for a short she was a grip on, but hey, that's something! I'm really excited for her. I'm so glad my film friends are doing so well. I have a lot of catching up to do.

a cute boy asked for my number!

Okay, okay, it's not what you think. And it's not that exciting. I was on my way to class, and in the doorway are these people who want you to vote for the school's blah blah or attend this manifestation or whatever. I usually take the fliers to appease these people then recycle them when they're not looking. Technically, I'm not a student at their University, I'm just taking classes there. And I'm not "supposed" to attend manifestations--I could get arrested and deported.

So, I got beamed into the Death Star that is this cute, bespectacled blond boy who was passing out fliers. I held out my hand to just grab one, but he kept talking on and on about a conference being held, so I systematically said I'd go, then he got his freaking pen out and asked my name.

Oh blurg.

So I gave him my "French" sounding name: Hélène. He correctly guessed if I was from America, and I replied yes from California. From San Francisco? I said yes to that to. The dude's pretty good at pin pointing even though I'm really from LA, I go to school in SF. Then he freaking asked for my number, and like I was still in auto-pilot, I freaking gave it to him. Stupid, stupid. I should have given him the number for Pizza Hut, if I only knew it. He might have known it though. Can you imagine, some guy asking for your number and you gave him the Pizza Hut number? That's Pizza Hut, he'd say. What would you say? I'd say, "Oh, that's my work number, sorry. My cell is (insert other fake number)."

Anyway, he said he'll call me on Friday night to remind me of the manifestation on Saturday since that was the one I said I'd go to. But I'm not going. And I'm not answering any "inconnus" (unknown) numbers on Friday night.

I recycled the fliers, don't you worry.

food coma and the goodness of friends

What a week! I've never eaten so well before. Might have gained some pounds but I don't care, I feel so good. Stacy had a great time and was so nice to have around. She was really into the food and wanted to experience all kinds of ambiances. Ate at a brasserie in Montmartre, had hot chocolate at Angelina's, coffee near the Tour Eiffel, ice cream at Berthillon, and ate at a lovely, charming restaurant on Ile St. Louis. They had two cats that were licking the rain off our umbrellas. I had steak au poivre for the first time, and Stacy had a steak with roquefort sauce. We both had wine as well. Stacy was a considerate lodger and in exchange for letting her stay at my place, she bought most of my meals which I didn't want her to but she insisted. I'm so blessed to have considerate friends who are good people.

I also took her to Chinatown, but I don't think I took her to the right part or we didn't venture in far enough, but we went into a Chinese supermarket and bought baby coconut juice and taro chips. Yum. We ended up eating it while in line for the Eiffel Tower.

We went at night, and I was just going to wait down below while Stacy goes up, but Stacy offered to pay for me again! She also asked me to ask Susie to come because she really liked Susie and that she'd pay for Susie's ticket as well. Lovely girl. She said it's all because of the extra cash that she didn't use for shopping. We went up, and what a lovely sight. I didn't bring my camera, but oh well. I was planning to go up the Eiffel Tour some day near the end of my trip but by myself. That sounds kind of weird, but you already know how weird I am.

Afterwards, we went back to my place and had some cheese and bread and wine for Stacy's last night. Swung by Monoprix for the bread since it was late, and Susie also bought some chocolate to make a care package for her bf Andy. It's their anniversary soon. Stacy asked Susie if she wanted her to bring anything back for her bf and that she had room in her suitcase. Susie made a lovely care package and Stacy packed it as well as most of my books and winter stuffs.

Took Stacy to the airport today and helped her check in. We almost forgot her passport! I put it on my bookshelf for safe keeping. We're both at fault for not double checking. This was her first time out of the country, and she had been picketpocketed in Paris while sightseeing to. I felt kinda bad about it, but I did warn her to be careful. Thankfully, she didn't lose a whole lot of cash. These are the kind of experiences to learn from. She wants to backpack across Europe and is now realizing how much research and planning that goes into it.

I'm starting to realize how good and selfless my friends are. I'm really thankful to have such good people around me who do things without asking, who tell me how it is, who make me feel comfortable and loved, who make me laugh like no other, who are positive and have goodness in their hearts. It usually takes a while for me to develop friendships, and it's been like that all my life, and I think that's why I haven't made any friends here other than the acquaintances I've made in SF who became my friends here as well as the other Californians I met here. But I think that's better than nothing.

Tomorrow, I'm off the airport to pick up Cher and Char!! Another tour of Paris is about to begin again!

condensed

Wow, have never done so much in two days! I am exhausted again. I need to start working out or something. It's hard to keep up with Stacy who is a rainbow/squirrel/ball of energy rolled into one.

She did crash the first day from jetlag which is why she didn't come to fondue. I met up with Jean and Emily at Montmartre at this fondue place that gives you wine and baby bottles. It was absolutely insane! We met up with these 2 American guys and girls who were visiting Paris, and they were really funny and cool. A great time. I had two baby bottles of wine, but only because the waiter and Emily made me do it!! Naw, he was really sweet because I spoke French for my friends and just got me one. By the end, the 7 of us were all stumbling, and in my drunkness I asked, "Do you guys have Facebook?" It was silent for a second, and I though, "Oh shit", and then they said, "YEAH!" A pen and paper was passed around and we got each other's names. So now I'm going to have acquaintances from Texas, West Virginia, and New York!

On Sunday, went to the Cinematheque since it was free. I wish I went to church for Easter, but it's hard to do the things you want to do when you have someone visiting you. God has not been replaced with Cinema, haha. Susie came too, but at the cutoff for the free entrance, so I felt bad.

After, met up with Sarah H. and I took Stacy to lunch nearby the Notre Dame. I found this decent cafe and always wanted to go there. Might go there for studying, the people are really nice, and it's comfier than the Saint Medard. I had a croque but with mozzarella and tomatoes.

We got tickets to Be Kind Rewind, then passed the time going down St. Germain. Like Catherine, Stacy likes to shop, so we ducked into a little boutique to look around. I helped Stacy get a dress and jacket. She has this thing when she knows an interesting person (like yours truly) she asks them to go with her on a shopping day where that person is her personal stylist. In exchange for my fashion advice, she buys the person the metro ticket for shopping and lunch. So, we spent one day at Union Square in SF buying her clothes.

I made her try on things she wouldn't usually wear like mini-skirts and tight jeans, because she has a cute body and should show it off. So I helped her pick dresses and jackets yesterday and told her what would go well with the jacket she bought. Being a fashion stylist is fun! I think I dress okay, not amazing, I just like looking unique and buying things that flatter my body and make me feel confident.

I also got myself a really cute skirt for spring. It's a gray prairie skirt, pleated and full, and there's a petticoat underneath with an eyelet border that peaks out under the skirt every so often when you walk with it on. It looks so coyboyish and American, I love it. I had my boots on and tights when I wore it, and that looked cute. It also had deep pockets that I could hide my hands in! I could not say no, I had to have it. Finding something cute and unique makes me happy, and it gave me great joy to wear it. It's weird how clothing can make you feel confident.

Saw the film, which was okay, I just liked the sweded parts and filmmaking parts. After, we chilled at my house since I was tired. Then, we headed to Les Caves Lechapelais for a "gothic soiree" because ladies before midnight were free. It was really cool and interesting, but I was so exhausted so I just watched all the gothic people dance. Susie made an interesting comment that she liked seeing all the "awkward" people here. It's no exaggeration that in all my time here I haven't seen a gothic looking kid, I really don't mean to generalize, but I can't find another way to say it. So does it make sense that after seeing all these cool and interesting people, I can breathe a sigh of relief that Paris isn't just Louis Vuitton and Longchamps bags and boots and skinny jeans on girls, and it's not all suits on guys or plain but nice clothing? Beneath that--in the caves (basement) for example--the awkward kids are there, dancing their hearts out to loud German music.

They had this sort of laser light thing, and it freaking looked like something out of Star Wars, it would actually shoot the light like a space gun that fires lasers or something, and I was scared out of my mind, but it was cool to watch Susie and Stacy dance to it. I was just cowering on the sidelines, trying not to get shot at last night.

Also am in touch with the web designer for Rushmore Academy (we became friends on Facebook!), and I'm going to write a report for him on Wes Anderson's masterclass at Fnac! Sweetness. I'd like to think that I'm a foreign correspondent for film in Paris. How cool would that be to live in Paris and just write in English? Kind of like what I'm doing right now.

coming to an end

Something like 15 weeks now until I go home. I have mixed feelings about it all. This all occurred to me when I realized that I was 3/4 done with my first Moleskine.

I've been a Moleskine fan since high school when I bought my first one on Irving at an adorable shop called Wishbone while staying with my brother in SF. There was something about its simplicity and history that attracted me. To write in the same kind of notebook that Hemingway and Picasso used...I wanted to be a part of that. I loved its simple design and features: the accordion pocket in the back, the bookmark, the band to keep it closed. The paper is acid free and thick enough for a fountain pen to write in without bleeding through. I swear I'm not getting paid to write this.

I only used it sparingly, for some reason I wouldn't leave the house with it for fear that I might lose it somewhere. It was my first Moleskine. A pocket one with graph paper instead of lined. I've always liked graph. I have 3 now: this one, a red limited edition weekly planner, and the Paris City Book. Had the first one for three years or so then started carrying it around when I started using a bag (I didn't use purses that much). Got the other two here because there's so much more selection of Moleskines here. It is European after all. But now, after three years with my first Moleskine, after months of toting it around Paris, London, and Amsterdam, it's almost full. I'm thinking I'll get through Italy with it and finish it there. But who knows I could finish it here if I get some good material (quotes! film ideas! other random things!).

Some blog news: Am having loads of fun making blog banners from the photos I've taken so will probably update the blog banner every week which'll be cool, I think. Also, am looking into changing up the colors for spring. Maybe a change around the equinox? Blogs are so much fun!! Here are two lists. Haven't done lists in a long time.

Currently:
1. Reading: Anne Frank Diary of a Young Girl, various homework papers.
2. Studying: French revolution, negation expletif, sujonctif.
3. Writing: wedding film for Kuya.
4. Watching: Saw Run Fatboy Run. I LOVE Simon Pegg. Hilarious actor. He's not too shabby in the more dramatic scenes either (ie on the balcony with Thandie Newton). Also second season Psych because the writing is too much some times. I wish I could write that funny.

Never leave home without:
1. Moleskine!: either my city book or my regular book. When I travel, it's always my planner and the regular book that comes with me.
2. Wallet: Durh. Navigo in the pocket with my cards so I never lose it.
3. Lip balm: I'm a lip balm fiend.
4. Lamy fountain pen
5. Bottle of water: Lesson learned.
6. Kleenex
7. Camera: Depends on where I'm going.
8. Umbrella: If it looks like it's going to rain.
9. Hair ties
10. Cell phone

reasons to carry a camera at all times

Was on my way to take my exam. I should have carried my camera with me. Here's why:

1. On Port Royal, the street I take to the MICEFA office, there was a parade/march going on by the EDF, France's electricity company. Pretty cool. There was a bunch of guys on top of an EDF van. And this guy was mooning everyone while his friends cheered him on. Hilarious.
2. There was an old lady bundled up in a blonde colored fur coat talking on her cell phone while zooming past me on a motorized wheelchair. Priceless. Lesson learned.

So, I'm done with classes. I start Micefa classes in two weeks and will have to sign up for classes for St. Denis too. Insert sarcastic "yay" here.

I really like what I'm wearing today. Today's clothing combination would have never occurred to me. I feel like I dress better here than I ever did back at home. Like more girly. The other night, Sally complimented my wardrobe and that made me feel good. I wore a gray knee length twill skirt that I got for 8 bucks at Crossroads on Irving in SF, teal long sleeve under a black hoodie and my navy wool blazer, and black tights under my boots. I was feeling pretty spiffy too.

Today, I wore my flowy brown jersey dress that I got at H&M to wear for Christmas and a light blue buttoned up oxford shirt over the dress with black tights and the famed engineer boots. See the pic at left. Sorry, didn't feel like talking a pic with my head in it or a whole body pic for that matter. It's the colors that are important in the picture. I like the boots because they're really masculine but when paired with the dress, it tones the whole outfit down. The oxford shirt says I'm ready to learn, and the boots say I'm ready to kick your ass. And in a dress no less. I never thought brown and light blue would go well together, but I really really like it. I think I'll wear this on one of my museum days in London.

It's funny how what we wear can change our whole attitude and outlook. I like the dress because it's super comfy and I wanted to be comfy for the whole of 1.5 hours I took to take my test. And it's nice knowing I can just put on some clothes that I know will make me feel good. I read that Scarlett Johansson puts on red lipstick when she's feeling down.

we will never have it this good again

Another take it easy day with no set plans. Outside this morning a brass band was playing Christmas songs. I took pics and video. Got some groceries. After lunch, decided to go to the Marché Noël at Nation on the Right Bank. Went with Nayo. It wasn't that great, just loads of artisan crafts. Nayo then remembered that I wrote down the best place to get hot chocolate in Paris in my Moleskine--I had copied it from Melissa's chocolate book. Unfortunately, I only wrote the street it was on: Rue de Rivoli. But it's called Angelina.

We walked from Chatelet down Rue de Rivoli towards the Louvre looking for this place. It was fun. Not too many people out, less than I expected since it's the holidays. Since the Louvre was on one side of the street, it made our job easier finding this place. We finally found it--it's across from Les Tuileries. There was a line outside the door.

We waited for 10 minutes, not that long. There was a patisserie to the left inside, and beyond the foyer loads of people sitting in this beautiful salon. If it had been more ornately decorated it could have looked like some buffet dining hall in Vegas, but no, it was stately without being pretentious. The staff was dressed in black slacks and white shirts, the girls being in black skirts and white aprons.We got what we came for: hot chocolate. Nayo and I both chose white chocolate, for a change. I also got a millefeuille, and Nayo got a Mont Blanc. The millefeuille was SO GOOD. Thin layers of buttery, flaky, crispy goodness between rich cream. Yum.
I told Nayo that I didn't think I could ever drink hot chocolate ever again if it wasn't like this: smooth, rich melted chocolate. My mouth waters just thinking about it. So decadent. Now that I know what amazing tastes like, why would I ever go back? I wouldn't. I asked her, "Do you think there's anything like this in the States other than that watery stuff mixed with powder?" She said no.

After, we sat in the Tuileries in front of the fountain where I took one of my first "Paris For A Year" blog banners. It was frozen, and there were ducks slipping on the ice. It was cute.We walked through the Tuileries towards the Louvre, then made a right and crossed Pont Royal. We walked towards St. Michel and browsed the many book vendors who sell used books along the sidewalk. Nayo bought a Henry Miller book, and I got a Tintin book. I like the drawings and Taylor's boyfriend suggested them to me.

We talked about what life was going to be like after Paris, and compared San Francisco to Paris. I agree with what Nayo said to me, San Francisco has beautiful parts, yes, but they're all spread out. Paris is one beautiful thing after another. It must be the history, the layout of this city, the buildings, the art, the food, I could go on...It must be all these things that make me fall in love every time I step outside. And I can't help but feel that I will be comparing everything else, when I leave, to Paris, and that nothing will ever measure up.

I will never forget that, despite the language barrier, the cold, the being away from family and friends...I will never forget that, despite all these things that could make a person absolutely miserable, I had it really good for one year. I had heaven.

another san francisco moment and feeling more adult

Yup, had another San Francisco moment apart from the m.c. Liz, Lucia, and Siobhan (also in IP, but this is my first time hanging out with her) found a Korean restaurant in 2eme. A little hole in the wall that serves amazing soup and potstickers (called "raviolis" here). And it was cheap too! Back in SF, it always felt good to find a really great restaurant and to frequent it. It made me feel like a real citizen, a true habitant. And there weren't any tourists eating there either.

Met with Katia at la brasserie Le Cardinal also in 2eme before dinner to get a cafe. I had their cafe viennois, which was excellent, but pricey. We talked (en francais!) about our classes, and we helped Keisha by staging a fake French interview with her. She has an interview tomorrow with Louis Vuitton, and we're all hoping she gets it. Katia interviewed her, while we played her "collegues" who are also interviewing her. It was very useful, even though I'm not going to get interviewed for a job here, just going through stuff like that that I know I'll do in the future. It felt really adult just to sit in a cafe and talk about important stuff like that.

What also made everything more "adult" was that I was dressed pretty nice today. Nicer than usual. I mean, I used to go to church in jeans and a hoodie, but today, I wore an olive dress over black tights and a black cardigan and red, pointy flats. I also had a red purse that goes with the flats. I looked damn good today, I think! It really boosts your confidence to dress nice, and I've never appreciated it until now. And it felt comfortable, you know? I wore this whole outfit the whole day! I mean, I still need to break in the flats, but I felt comfortable and at ease in what I was wearing. And I know that, when I get back to the states, I might be out of place a little bit or that everyone's going to see how different I've become, but I don't really care. I'm so happy with the way I've changed, I don't want to revert back to my old lifestyle. I want to keep this up.

And it wasn't just me. Lucia, Liz, Romina, Siobhan, Katia (but of course, she's French)--we all looked really great today. And I must mention that everyone except me dresses really well regularly. And we all looked great together, no joke. Like Parisiennes, like adults. Notice that I didn't name Keisha, because she always looks great. When we arrived at the cafe, even Keisha was surprised! I think more so at me because I never dress up.

my first missed connection!

It's 1:12 am. I just got back from watching the France vs. England rugby game at the Champs de Mars, right in front of the Eiffel Tower. It was pure insanity. England won. Anyway, besides that being the setting, I just had my first missed connection tonight. And it wasn't even with a French boy. It was with an adorable British guy with a broken arm who was in Paris to watch the game with his friends.

I'll quickly describe what a "missed connection" is. It's when you have a moment with a complete stranger that sort of sticks in your mind, and you never really meet the person, you sort of either just lose them forever or you make the effort to find them. Hence the "missed connections" section in Craigslist where I first saw it. I'd read the "missed connections" section at work back in SF. They ranged from people who make eye contact and then lose each other on the metro (he gets off or she gets off or whatever) to people whining about who keyed their car.

So, I went to watch the rugby game with Kristin, Morgan, and Kathy. We fought through throngs upon throngs of people (it was a huge mosh pit to get there), and finally we settled next to a group of hot, young British fellows. We got to talking with them, and, when they won, we celebrated with them.We didn't take our shirts off of course, but this was very amusing to us. As the crowds parted, and the sad Parisiens went on their way, the British boys and us hung around. They were all just so happy to have won. Among them all, one boy stuck out to me.

He was only a couple of inches taller than me, and the shortest among his mates. He wore a rugby shirt and jeans and his left arm was in a blue cast! He was adorable. We talked for a little bit after the game. He asked if we were going out tonight, and I said probably. He asked if he should change his shirt, and I said yes, he should, if he didn't want to get beaten up by an angry mob. Then he went away. And that was it. That was the last time we talked, but it wasn't then that we had our moment.

Before actually leaving, since we didn't feel like going out, I was standing between Morgan and Kathy. Then I see the boy, he's walking away from his friend, and then, a couple of feet to my right, he stops and we sort of look at each other. It only lasted a couple of seconds, but it felt like the longest look I ever held with any stranger before. And everything became quiet, and all I can hear in my head was, "Talk to me. Talk to me one last time because I know I'll never see you again." He seems like he's contemplating it. I smile, just a little bit, to acknowledge him. I'm too shy to make a move to go talk to him. He makes his decision and turns away to go to another group of his friends. Oh well.

It's so typical that this happen. Only yesterday did I change my status from "It's Complicated" to "Single". That's right, I'm single, folks, and just in time for school! No, but seriously, I'm not looking for a relationship, I just want to make friends. It just wouldn't make sense to date someone here, I'll only be here for a year. But I'll keep an open mind, especially if it's a cute British boy with a broken arm.

And if you're wondering about the boy in SF...well, he knows how I feel. I still like him, and, last time I checked, he said he liked me. But so much can happen in a year. So much.

A lesson to all guys: Don't be so shy!

movie night!

Wow! So, my landlord Chris told me that they're going to show Some Like It Hot at this roman type arena just 10 minutes away from my house, so I invited some friends to come. It was really fun, and I've never seen this film before, so that was pretty cool. They actually projected the original film with French subtitles and didn't use a dvd. That was excellent. It's funny because they do stuff like this--show films in public places--in San Francisco, and my friend Stacy would always invite me to see these films with her. I've only went once, and we saw the first Indiana Jones.

For the first time since I've arrived, I didn't feel like some tourist. There we were, us Americans surrounded by Parisiens watching Marilyn Monroe under the stars. And for the duration of the film, we were connected by this love of cinema. And the language that we spoke or our home country, all that stuff that divides us, melted away because we laughed at the same things, stayed silent while Marilyn sang, and applauded at the end of the film. I've never felt more at home thousands of miles away.

This morning, a Japanese film crew was setting up outside with their cam, taking shots of my rue and filming my landlord's band. Outside, my landlord's band is playing "La Vie En Rose". Does it get anymore cinematic than this? Can there be any more signs?

All this is happening for a reason, and it's all beyond me, and it's happening, unspooling like film. Thank you God.

lists are good

Things that are funny to me:

--Mom at Costco throwing a brick of cheddar cheese into the shopping cart
--Dad arguing about how we don't need so much cheese and who's going to eat it
--Me screaming when Kuya almost hit a pigeon with my car
--The line for food at Costco
--That ridiculous kiss in Spider-Man when MJ is kissing the upside-down Peter Parker

I am unbearably happy. I have reasons to be unbearably happy:

--I can't stop thinking about funny people and things I love and will miss.
--Because a lovely boy took a bus from SF to see me before I go.
--Because I'm leaving in a couple of days.

I can't sleep, and I wake up early. This excitement is killer! Also, I've been waking up wanting to vomit. Is it excitement or nervousness? Both?! In high school, I always vomited right before an essay test in my AP English class because I was nervous. We knew what we had to study, but he never gave us a prompt. It was also excitement too, all that literature running through my head. All I could think was, "What's my teacher going to ask of me? What can I tell him that's never been told before? What will I do to stand out of all these other essays? How can I make my essay amazing?" I guess this is the same thing. What's going to be asked of me? How can I make this trip amazing?

J.D salinger wrote that writers only get asked two questions when they die: "Were your stars out? Were you busy writing your heart out?" That's the only kind of writing (and living) I want to do.

nothing important happened today

It's been hectic the last couple of days, but I've been getting a lot done. It's really hot here though, which is nice compared to the cold, foggy SF summer. I've been working on my tan.

Some friends from SF came down, and we met at Universal Studios. They ended up leaving late, and I was early, so I had an hour to myself to enjoy some coffee and do some people watching on the Citywalk. When we did get in we got drenched on Jurassic Park and dried off in the Backdraft attraction. All in all a good time.

Hung out with Kuya in his lovely home in the valley (San Fernando Valley). It was super hot there, so we just watched his Tivo-ed episodes of Entourage and Go, which isn't too bad of a movie. And Timothy Olyphant is pretty hot.

Did some errands for Grandma. Saw my optometrist. Bought my International Student Identity Card, which will be good for discounts here and abroad. Right now, I'm organizing my address book and gathering addresses so that I can send people postcards from abroad. It's such a bugger filling out my address book.

summer reflection

This is a lengthy post. Written somewhere's between 1:30 am and now. Beware. It's also a bit telling, and I was wary about posting it, but it did make a serious impact on my summer and me as a person, so read on and enjoy, dear friends.

Wow. What a summer. The posts on this blog don't even sum up or totally describe what this summer has meant to me. Or me to this summer. If that's possible, and I think it is.

Firstly, I turned 21, which is the all-American turning point. I can drink. I can gamble. Wow, all vices. Anyway, it was a turning point, and I didn't think it would be. I did sort of save myself, and I rarely drank before 21. There was just one occasion since C. turned 21 months before I did, and I wanted to drink then, but that was probably it.

But the major thing, the HUGE thing, and it will seem so little and so trivial to you, but let me let you in on it first and then explain. Here it is, the major act that I did that is totally not part of my normal behavior is...I told a boy I liked him. That I had a crush on him for the past year.

Okay, okay, okay. Small, I know, just that first part. And in this day, and at my age, I even agree. 12 year olds tell other 12 year olds they like each other. The "past year" part though adds a punch, I think. And the fact that I'm 21, and that this is the first time ever I told a boy I liked him.

The thing is...I am old-fashioned. My aunt once referred to me as the "nun". I like letting fate, or destiny, intervene i.e. do the work. I believed, in my heart of hearts, that if something was meant to happen, it would happen, and it would not be because I made a daring choice or set myself up for hurt or took a chance. No, I didn't like taking chances. I didn't like getting hurt. I didn't like trying things knowing that one of the two outcomes would be me not getting where I wanted to be. And that meant missing out on a lot of things. Remember, this is the girl who wouldn't go outside through a crowd of people to get a plate of meatballs (see post titled "the meatball story") unless there was some sort of prize in the end. This is that girl.

You have no idea how crippling this kind of mentality is. This has been my past adolescence. And a good part of my college years. Because it's so easy, and nice, and comfortable to be shy and not say what I really feel and then just go blog or write about it somewhere and let that be my outlet. It was so easy. But this isn't a way to live.

I have books of my reported shyness. I have a blog somewhere on the internet (that you will never find, hopefully) about my first 2 years of college in which my pen name was Prufrock*(see footnotes). I had loyal readers who begged me, urged me, to change. I didn't. I mean, I thought I did, but I really didn't. The blog got a bit depressing, and I moved on.

So you see, it's not small. It's not miniscule, telling a boy I liked him. Not to me. A regular "normal" girl might have done it at least once before hitting 21. I am clearly not normal, and this was clearly a turning point. Even more so than my 21st birthday**. And it really changed everything. This crush became more of burden with each month that went by that I didn't tell him. And it would go away and then come back, and ugh, what a mess. But finally letting him know...that felt so good. I had reasoned in my head that it wouldn't even matter what he felt about me, whether he'd like me back or not. It would just be better to tell him, to rid myself of this shyness in one simple act. I, as I like to call it, "set myself up for hurt" (because not being shy always ends negatively to me, hence the "hurt") but at least it would be done. And even if it did hurt, it would be temporary. I seriously figured he didn't feel the same way about me, but at least I said it, got it out before I left for Paris, and maybe I can start new.

I did it though. Finally, finally. And you know the nice thing about taking a chance is, about telling someone you like him? I found out that he likes me too.

What have I been missing all these years? Argh. What a Prufrock I am.

FOOTNOTES
* T.S. Eliot's patron saint of shyness and not taking chances. Read his "Love Song for J. Alfred Prufrock"
**Actually turning 21 did help and give it some edge as I did tell said boy how I felt about him the day after I turned 21.

goodbye san francisco: the last 2 days...

Everything is such a blur. From the packing, the lack of sleep, and the drive home I can't remember it all. And at one point I even fused the last 2 days in nor cal into this great, huge day in which so much had happened, some of it very personal, that I won't even share all of it with you. Sorry folks.

Day 7, Sunday
Breakfast with friends at a lovely cafe near the house. It was my first time there. I had French toast (appropriate no?) and potatoes on the side, and I barely finished either of them. I had no appetite for obvious reasons.

Went to see Sunshine with C., and it's funny because we saw my friend Jason there too. It was either Sunshine or Rescue Dawn, and we chose the lesser of the two downers. It was pretty deece, and I love Danny Boyle, and sci-fi, but this combination didn't totally work for me. It had some good parts though.

Went to my Grandma's (Dad's aunt) house and had a lovely dinner there. I wanted to see her before I left because she's been so hospitable to me and I was always welcome in their home in San Francisco. They have an amazing house, a truly San Franciscan home that could be a setting for something like The Royal Tenenbaums. My parents drove up that night and met up with me there too. I went home early though since I still needed to pack.

Day 8, Monday: the last day
Woke up pretty tired. I had a long but an amazing night, and I couldn't get to sleep because there was so much to think about. Everything was ready and downstairs.

C. and I got coffee, our last time getting coffee. Ben came over and he and C. helped me move out when my parents came with the truck. C. even called in sick to work and missed part of her class to help. It was so nice of them to be there for me when I left.

When I said goodbye to them, I cried. I couldn't help it; and I couldn't hold it in, as hard as I tried. But I hugged them, and then drove off following my parents in the truck.

And I swear that was the hardest drive home in my entire life. I've never driven from SF to LA alone, but I was so glad I was because there was so much to think about. And it would be so comfortable, so nice to be able to stay and go on with my warm, routine life in SF, but that was not going to happen. The choice of going abroad for a year had really cemented itself. I had willingly chosen a difficult path, and there as no turning back now. Even though there were so many good reasons for staying, I couldn't. And that was my choice, and I will have to deal with that.

Got home pretty late and pretty tired. I unpacked everything the next day.

goodbye san francisco day 5 (with more details) and 6

Ouchies. My head hurts. It might be because I've been averaging about 4 hours of sleep in the last three days, but it was totally worth it. And I should be sleeping now, but, I can't help but want to type. I've remembered a few more things about Day 5, and I wanted to write about it.

Day 5, Friday
Packing, packing, packing. I biked to the store to get some things for the picnic the next day, and I was sad because I thought that that might be the last time I bike to a store. Down here in so cal, nothing is bikeable with my single speed unless I want to die of exhaustion. I thought of buying a cheap bike in Paris, but with the new bike rental thing they started in Paris called Velib maybe I will get to bike to the store to get things. Sweet!

C. and I went to Costco for one last hot dog hurrah and to get foods for the picnic. We laughed at all the crazy people buying bulk things and getting angry because the line for food was so long. You people need to relax. Yes, hot dogs are $1.50 and come with a bottomless drink, but just chill out. A worker spilled a tub of mouthwash down an aisle, and we wanted to laugh, but we felt so bad about it, and people didn't care and would just run their carts right through the mouthwash spillage. We avoided the spill, went down another aisle, and laughed then.

When we came home, we watched our favorite quoteable film Kelly's Heroes. God, Donald Sutherland is such a riot in that film.

Day 6, Saturday
PICNIC! Oh what fun. C. and I found a lovely spot in front of the lake. It took us a while to start the fire. And we were laughing because everyone around us had this amazing fire, and we had nothing. But we got it going, and my friend Jason arrived to help us out too.

Yay yay yay more people arrive and bring goodies. My friend Brandon brought a frisbee, Stacy brought tongs (which I needed for the barbeque), Jason brought drinks, Ben brought ice cream, and my friend Andy brought me a lovely present: 50 cards with different walking paths all throughout Paris. Yay! It's already in the suitcase.

I am so thankful for the people who came and brought things and for the people who took time out of their busy lives to just bring themselves and say goodbye to me. Here are some ducks I saw at the lake: Later that night, Brandon and Ben came over to our place, and we had drinks. C. bought sake and vodka. Brandon brought wine, and Ben brought other alcoholic stuff. We watched tv mostly, passing the remote around since no one really wanted to choose something to watch. And C. was so funny, because she's so talkative when she's sauced, and she kept wanting to play soccer (it was 1 or 2am) and wanted to watch the anime Berserk. She finally got her wish with the anime, and we all conked out after the first episode. I could not have asked for a nicer night.

I will re-cap my last day and the drive home later. Nighty night.