30 April 2010

Too Much Vacation ?


Okay kids, let me start out by apologizing - I've recently received complaints that I'm not staying as up-to-date as some prefer, as my last post was nearly three weeks ago. That being said :

SUCK IT UP. Be a man. Rub some dirt in it. [if anyone can call that, props for having seen one of the best movies of all time] Here's the deal - oh yeah, I'm in France. I would love to update as often as I have stories to tell, but the fact of the matter is that I'm out making more stories ! And face to face is better anyway, right ? Right.

Enough of that for now, I've got three weeks to talk about, including Spring Break and the first week back to school. I know you're all ecstatic.

Regardless of the chaos that ensued due to the SNCF and the bipolar Eyjafjallajökull [that being said, I would be pretty moody if I had that name too, it isn't even real-looking] starting its rag, I somehow made it to Paris in one piece, and in a timely fashion. As my first train ride had been canceled, I got my first choice of voyages, so I chose direct to Montparnasse, as to avoid what would have undoubtedly provided to be another obstacle in switching trains. An hour and a half of quiet anxiety, praying there would be no controllers to examine my printed confirmation of a different trip passed with little occurrence, besides the staring contest I had with the little girl across from me.

::short interjection::
Speaking of the little girl - she is the kind of French person I admire. All direct, no flirting around. I either made her nervous or she was super curious, so she stared. I LOVE that ! Not only is it reminiscent of my five-year-old niece [and whole life] Olivia Grace, but she made me feel better about the fact that I stare at strangers too. Hurray.

The kind of directness I don't appreciate ? Frenchmen, blatantly coming onto you despite the amount of disinterest you show and words you snap. It's called subtly, guys. It's high time you took a page out of America's book.

Arrive at Montparnasse : 19h26 [or something to that effect]

Happy to be back in Paris, I excitedly searched for Guillo and Merry, only to find a surprise ; Pierre, another friend, had joined them in my retrieval. It was no less than a great welcome already, but it only got better.

After exchange of hugs and bisous, we left the station and walked toward the street. Already I was a bit confused, seeing as we have to take the metro to get to Merry's house...yeah. I was completely lost. Until I saw Elsa and Johan. As it turns out, we wanted to go to Breton bars around the Montparnasse area. Happy to be in great company and home again, a little drink to ease the nerves left from the train ride was fine by me.

What started as one week in paradise turned quickly into two ; Friday rolls around and we're all in low spirits. I have no desire to leave, especially knowing that everyone [besides Guillaume] is on vacation the next week. It's then that Merry says to me "well, you're staying, you know that right ?" I chuckled at his [wonderful] French direct manner of speaking and brushed it aside, not imagining the possibility.

And then we changed the ticket. After another slight hassle, I was set to go back - the Sunday after the approaching one. Life was good again, even though we all felt sorry for the still studious Guillo, stuck in physics all day while we were having lunch in various Parisian parks.

Naturally we had parties when I was there [because it's basically a rule] but one of the best by far had to have been what is now known as the Nutella Party. It was small, but perfect in nearly every way. The night started with dinner at sir Guillo's house, as his family was out of town. A hearty meal down in the belly, the remnants of ice cream sitting in my, Merry and Guillo's bowls. I guess I was feeling feisty, or maybe Merry was just being his natural smart-ass self, but it got to the point where I smeared some chocolate ice cream on his hand. No big, right ? Wrong. I did it to Guillo too. It some how elevated to ice cubes, which turned into me pouring ice water on his head...hum. This story makes me sound guilty, shoot.

I'll cut it short, for your eyes' sakes, but what started as ice cream on the wrist turned into me hiding in Aurore's room from Guillo's hand full of what I believed to be shaving cream [which was actually whipped cream] turned to me smearing a mix of shaving cream and toothpaste on Merry to me hiding and then getting locked in the pantry, to me screaming for a while and making a mess, to me leaving the pantry and getting smothered, I mean COMPLETELY attacked with Nutella [face, dress, cleavage] to tomato sauce, shampoo, lotion, everything flying everywhere. It ended when I locked Guillo and Merry on the patio, shirtless, and wrote on the windows a cute little message that you can find if you ask for it.

It was hella fun to create, not so great to clean, but worth it in every way.

We also had a small NP II at Merry's, but it didn't really compare. We each just took an egg to the head and the boys got soaked with water. Oh and Merry got a gash on his forehead. How did he do that, you ask ? He was sitting down, I had a pitcher of water. Knowing me, he attempts to escape by fleeing, only to turn into the other chair next to him. Boom, instant scratch. And then I poured water on him. Mean ? No way.

We made our way to several parks over the two weeks, made a fire in the square by Merry's house, got scorned for doing so [congrats Guillo, that was so funny], made awesome smoothies [way to go, me and brobro], celebrated Etienne's birthday, went to a concert that made Merry and I crack up [difference of opinion "ear" is pronounced "eer" not "air" - I mean I could be wrong, except, well, I speak English] and spent the majority of our free time in the sun and/or with friends. And I got freckles. Sure I look twelve, but it's a sign of summer so I forgive those plentiful bastards.

Sunday I was sad to leave for many reasons, but Saturday was awesome. First time at Pierre's apartment, silly things transpired [like Merry with Manuel/Flo...] and we all got happy. Let's just say I am no less than pumped to go back one last time before school is out.

::shorter interjection::
Who goes to China ? Moreover, who signs up to China with the intent of going, gets accepted and doesn't tell me ? Uh, rude. But also sad.

First week back, after 15 days off was no less than exhausting and stressful. Now that I think of it, I suppose I should stop using this deal as a form of procrastination and call it quits so I can debate on whether to work or change before the night falls. I'm so conflicted. School work, club with awesome people ? Work, dance, work, drink, work, explore, work, live ? Yeah, not even a real question.

I'll catch you all on the flip side !


"Du sublime au ridicule il n'y a qu'un pas."
-Napoléon

3 comments:

  1. I GO TO CHINAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!! AMBER GOES TO CHINAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!

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  2. by the way, that first picture of you looks like you're covered in poo.

    France is disgusting.

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  3. It's called Nutella and it's freggin' delicious. Or was, before it was ruined because it was smeared all over my front.

    CHINAAAAAA !

    ReplyDelete