19 juin 2009
Today, I broke away from the Arizona in Paris program. I felt really sick and missed the trip to Claude Monet’s gardens at Giverny. C’est la vie. This absence will hurt my grades in Ayoun’s courses, but I was genuinely feeling sick to my stomach today, and stuff like this just happens sometimes. I’m really bummed I couldn’t look at the famous gardens that inspired his paintings.
At the same time, I’m glad I can finally breathe in Paris. We’re busy so much here that it’s kind of impossible to just enjoy Paris as a city. We have to go to every famous monument imaginable, and there’s more to Paris than just history. I want to know what it’s like to actually live here on my own time. That’s not this program, however.
The entire Arizona in Paris group celebrated Jerris’s birthday last night at an Italian restaurant. There were about 17 of us present, and eleven of the others sat at the biggest table in the restaurant. I sat with five others, and we were much quieter, with the exception of Ava’s booming laugh, which I love.
European restaurants over-charge so much. They also try to take advantage of tourists. If you don’t specifically order tap water, they’ll charge you 8 Euro for bottled water. Last night, our table ate four baskets of bread, and we were charged an extra 7 Euro. It would have been nice to know that bread isn’t free. The waiter also tried over-charging me and Ava on our already over-priced ice cream and sorbet, which cost 7.50 Euro, not 10 Euro as they tried telling us.
I miss America in so many ways. I love friendly waiters who constantly re-fill my glass of water, repeatedly ask me if I’m enjoying my meal, and give me more bread at no cost.
What can I say? I’m an over-eater, and I’m kind of a demanding American.
Our other table of friends was really loud, and the restaurant lost a few potential customers all thanks to the rowdy Americans. There’s no cure to being American-We talk a lot, we’re loud, we’re always in a good mood, we laugh at everything, we expect a lot from others, and we like to have fun.
We went to a bar later on, but I didn’t feel like partaking in any of the insanity. I have never liked drinking. It can be amusing on a rare occasion, but I’ve just never come up with a valid reason to imbibe. Bill O’Reilly feels the same way, as he shared in his memoir. He’s never smoked anything or had a sip of alcohol, and he’s one of the most successful political commentators of all time. I just never felt like I needed to drink to have an interesting life, so it has cost me some social opportunities, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.
I went out a decent amount when I first got to Paris, but I don’t want to go out drinking just because I can. It’s not fun for me to have to worry about how I’m going to get home, either.
It’s scary to be out late in Europe, where some men are crazy enough to seriously harass girls. Valentina and I were walking to the closest metro stop last night when a group of guys started yelling for us to hang out with them.
No chance in Hell.
Valentina and I continued walking, our arms linked, and one of the guys got angry at us and threw a wine bottle onto the street. I don’t want to be exposed to drunk creepers who make threatening gestures.
There’s nothing more terrifying than being alone in Paris at night. The world is screwed up over here. This city is full of strange people who don’t really know right from wrong, and they don’t know how to be socially appropriate.
I never again want to be in a situation where the metro closes down and I’m stuck running around outside in the rain at 3:00 a.m. The taxi cab drivers are selfish and unhelpful, and even the men are apathetic to two vulnerable young girls wandering the city at night. They’d rather make a higher profit off someone else that needs to be taken across town than drive a couple of frightened girls home a few blocks away.
I’m just sick of the dangerous ordeal of going out at night. I have my fix of Paris night life, and I can only take it in small doses. Call me naïve, but I’d rather not roam the streets at 3:00 a.m. again, especially if I don’t even drink.
I’m pretty sure I’ve committed every possible social faux pas in Paris. I had a really, really awkward moment earlier that evening.
Sidewalks are tiny in France, so it’s easy to bump into people walking in the opposite direction. This huge muscular guy walked past me, didn’t move over, and we kind of collided. He kept walking even as I fell over, right into an outdoor restaurant table. I broke my fall with the table, but I knocked over a chair, which made a loud cracking sound as it smacked onto the ground. The fold-up chair actually toppled over and snapped close.
The man looked back at me, shook his head, and kept walking. Everyone stared at the scene I made. I bent over and tried to fix the chair, only to bump into more angry passersby. The restaurant manager ran outside, pointed to me, and yelled in French, “WHAT JUST HAPPENED HERE?!?!”
He was livid. I shouted back in French, “Um, it was THAT GUY!” I pointed to the man who smacked into me, and then I bolted away.
I’m so accident prone, and I’m such bad luck. I attract the worst kind of people in this city and find myself in the most awkward, embarrassing situations. You may get hit by a bus just by hanging out near me.
Yesterday, I waited in line to get Berthillon ice cream. I’m addicted to Berthillon. It’s the best ice cream in Paris. No country produces dessert like France. This country does it best, and I love it. I eat an obscene amount of chocolate and bread here, I’m so lucky I haven’t turned into a fat kid. I have no idea how I’ve actually lost weight while being over here. At minimum, I eat a loaf of bread a day along with an unhealthy amount of chocolate. I eat chocolate bread, chocolate ice cream, Nutella, Toblerone, everything. I would be so gross in the US, but for some reason, I can eat whatever I want here and still remain the same.
This country creates the greatest sweets imaginable. I’m going to miss chocolate bread, éclairs, beignets, Nutella, chocolate cakes, and everything else when I go back to the states. If you have a bad sweet tooth like me, you should come to France. You’ll be able to eat whatever you want without getting fat, but you have to walk around a lot. It astonishes me that the people here are so thin and fit. It’s all about walking and portion control.
LAURA DONOVAN COPYRIGHT 2009
