I Got a Feeling

Some fairly old pictures I've been meaning to post. The first two are from a town called Provins not far from where I live. It's a pretty cool place and it has been named a World Heritage Site by UNESCO because it's a medieval village that dates back to the 11th century. The third and fourth photos are from a night out. There is Sacré Coeur at night and..duh..the notorious Moulin Rouge.

I actually started writing this blog yesterday on the train and had “Untitled” as my title. I was feeling so ho-hum about the fact that nothing title-worthy had happened all week. Then I looked up and saw the three train “police”men…I guess they are security?...looking at me and whispering. Can they smell my American-ness?! It didn’t help that I was also doing my homework from a workbook no French college student would ever possess. Why is it that they make books for learning foreign languages so juvenile? Comics in French?? At 21? Really?

I digress. Back to the point of my story. Today I received the inspiration for my title. Little background; Eliott (the little boy) and I don’t really connect. I don’t have brothers; he hates Americans (kidding). I try to play games, watch tv, hang out, the whole nine yards, yet nothing works. He wants nothing to do with me. Today, however, was a small step forward. I was driving to pick up Zoe and Eliott was with me in the back seat. Normally I listen to the news on the radio but for some reason I had it on FUN! Radio, the worst station. EVER. The only two songs they play are “I Got a Feeling” and “No Stress” by Laurent Wolf. Naturally, “I Got a Feeling” came on. Resisting the urge to change it, I let myself bop along and even found myself singing; I mean come on, the lyrics aren’t too hard to catch on to. From the backseat I hear Eliott murmur “Yea! J’aime bien cette chanson”. So he’s a Black Eyed Peas fan. He starts busting out the lyrics with me, in his super cute French-american accent, and for a moment I felt a little connection forge between us. There in my little Panda, with the rain beating down on my windshield, I actually felt happier than I’ve felt all week. We bonded a little. Even if it was to a shitty American pop song.

Anyways...enough sap. Tuesday I gave a twenty-minute presentation in my French class. I was actually a little nervous going into it despite the fact that I knew that 99.9% of my classmates would spend that twenty minutes picking at cuticles, texting, contemplating last night’s hook-up, etc. I have to tell you, I did alright! I don’t love public speaking, but I’m not one of those people that gets that terrible nervous rash all over their chest that subsequently becomes the center of attention for the rest of the talk…basically, I can suck it up when I have to. And you know what, I didn’t even look at my notes once. I’m sure I bored my classmates (the ones listening) to tears talking about the French colonization of Africa but I was proud! My teacher said it was très bien, a decently flattering compliment from the pretty serious Greg (said of course with a throaty, spit-filled “r”). After the class I was chatting with a few girls about their presentations and they were telling me how nervous they were and how they couldn’t imagine not using their notes. I told them I had a lot of practice from college and they all looked at me with blank faces. Turns out they’re all 18. I couldn’t help but say “Good God, you’re younger than my sister”…nothing like that little reality check to make you feel (relatively) old.

On the family front: just when I thought I had had enough of my host family’s (okay, I’ll be honest, host dad’s) criticism..ahem, constructive critiquing…I received a nice little surprise. Well I think. Let me explain. A few days ago Alain came home with a brand new book that he had bought specifically for me. I was flattered and really appreciative. I am after all just the nanny/laundry and dishes bitch. He gets the book out of the bag and I see it is what the French call a pavé. In other words, it’s a brick. I leafed through it and saw that the book was 1100 pages. I mean I’ve never read a book that size in English, never mind French. I kindly thanked him (after all, it was thoughtful) and retreated to my room. Sitting on my bed I began to think, is this some sort of demonic trick? Is this like buying someone a vacuum…it’s a gift because you wrapped it up and gave it to them but then again it’s not because it’s a chore and well…it’s a vacuum? Did he buy this because he knew I would be stuck reading it for the rest of the year? I mean I can read a 350 page French book—if I really put forth the time and effort—in about 2.5 weeks. 1100 pages….I’ll still be working on it come Easter. I smell a little schadenfreude.

Et finalement. Went to McDonalds today. I was with the kids if that makes it any better. As if it’s not bad enough that I’ve already hit up Starbucks three times, now I’m moving on to fast food…I smell trouble in the form of American chain restaurants. I’ll admit, usually I’m so finicky, resisting fries and grease for a salad…To tell you the truth, I don’t think I have ever (that I remember…) eaten a real McDonald’s hamburger. At least not a Big Mac. Serious. Anyways, today I threw those qualms out the window. There is nothing (sadly) as deliciously American..well nothing in France anyways, as Mcdonalds. Fries, greasy McChicken, even an ice cream. Although the fries were not nearly as grease-laden and salty as I like them, they were delicious. I savored every last morsel. Sometimes I miss my home where everything can come super-sized.

So that wraps it up. Ventured into Galeries Lafayette again today for some new gloves, making sure to avoid at all costs the very rich people’s floor. Whew.