Minneapolis

So, it's 7:40 am in Minneapolis. Thanks to jetlag, I've been running on a string of 5am and 6am mornings since I got back into town on Saturday afternoon. I've got a rented copy of Transamerica on the television, and I just realized I should revisit this journal at least one more time before drawing it to a close.

The last entry I wrote was right before I headed off to Normandy and Nancy. Both were amazing. Normandy is green, beautiful, and very french- there's windmills and medieval houses and little country churches everywhere. Nancy has a lot of Art Nouveau architecture and a smaller city feel - nothing is too overbearing and it's not overly touristic.

The best way to describe my last week in Paris is that it was a whirlwind of running around the city, saying my goodbyes and trying rather unsuccessfully to get in a few hours of sleep when I could. This whole lack of sleep thing was exacerbated by the fact that my plane was canceled last minute on Thursday. United shacked me up in the Hotel Sofitel at the airport, and I left my bags out there and happily went back into Paris - I call it the best flight cancellation of all time. I spent another two days running around and finally crashed on my Saturday morning flight.

Now, it's Minneapolis. Despite the whole culture shock/emotional issues, I'm doing well here. It's green, the weather is beautiful, I have space, I have my family and friends - and it's something I keep on telling myself everyday and I'm coming around to pretty fast. I'm going to work on gathering my thoughts and getting a little more lucid about all of this, but I think I'll be writing a bit more as time goes on.

On the 68

Today I went down to the Student Cafeteria over by Port Royal, home of the best cafeteria pizza around town. After, I headed down to the SNCF Boutique to buy some train tickets to finish up my traveling around France - I leave for Normandy tomorow to stay with some neighbors at their place outside of Dieppe, then I'm coming back to Paris Saturday morning and leaving later that afternoon to spend a night in Nancy.

Why Nancy? Well, it turns out that Lyon's trains are all full on Sunday, as are Bordeaux's. So, luckily I was with my friend Emma, and she pulled out a map and was like, "Nancy!" and lo and behold, we're gonna be there for a night. I'm actually really excited, it's got amazing art nouveau architecture, and a few great museums and some solid, heartier food from Lorraine.

Anyways, so after I hopped on the 68 Bus for the tour across Paris - down Boulevard Raspail, up and across the Seine by the Louvre, then down to Opera, and finally Place de Clichy. I put on Steely Dan's "Pretzel Logic" - yeah, you know what I'm talking about - and grooved out for a while. Time here has been passing by so quickly lately it's been hard to get a handle on my rapidly diminishing time left - at this point I only have like 5 nights or so left in Paris proper.

Tomorrow I'm heading out to Normandy to explore some castles and, as my host dad, who's tagging along, reminded me, help the neighbor chop wood. So, I'll bring along the Chateaubriand and try to be as French as possible until I leave.

The Garden Party

Yesterday was an event Jacques had been reminding me about for the last two weeks, his sister's garden party out in the suburbs. Since I've been here, he's been unsuccessfully trying to convince me to bike around the Parisian streets on his rickety second bike, and I've refused up until now (factor in that he considers helmets "ugly" and never wears/owns them).

As we approached Sunday, he wouldn't stop talking about the beautiful bike path we were going to take, as I noticed his gradual increases in admitted distance into what was going to become a 28km round-trip bike ride. So, as Sunday came around, I woke up groggily after a long Saturday night to see Jacques impatiently waiting downstairs in a tie and blazer. Throwing on some khakis, a tie, a blazer, and some polka-dot socks because, hell, it's a garden party, we headed out. I don't know if I can adequately describe how ridiculous we looked. Two incredibly white guys biking through Pigalle and over towards Stalingrad, Jacques with a wicker basket on his bike with the host's present, large tortoiseshell 50's-era Ray-Bans, and I with my right polka-dot sock tucked into my khakis - both of us in our Sunday best.

We made good time at first, dodging the traffic in Pigalle, and enduring the stares of quite literally hundreds of people. Unfortunately, even the clearly-labeled bike path was more of an abstract, nebulous concept for the Parisian drivers, and I had to avoid getting nicked a few times, which would've been disastrous without a helmet. After going all the way West, we turned Northeast and went past Parc de la Villette, past the baby strollers, and up the canal for another solid 8-9 kilometers.

Getting there, I soon realized Jacques and I were definitely the most dressed up people there. It was more of a family barbeque, with all of the husband's secret service and secret society (think French Masons) there - I'm not kidding. But, these were liquored-up secret servicemen dancing to "YMCA" and "Dancing Queen" with their kids, all wearing designer t-shirts. The worst part was that I couldn't cut loose too much - more than a bit of wine and I'd have trouble on the 14km return trip... (not to mention all the laughs I got when I asked for water from the bartender).

The party turned out well, despite the fact there was really nobody within ten years of my age on either side of my 22 years. I made buddies with one of the older secret society guys, who was clearly important by the way he held court around a plastic table. He liked my Camper shoes though, so we got along well.

The return bike trip was another story. We got off on another good start, racing back into the city for a dinner party we had over at La Muette. Despite a small bit of shame for enduring jokes from passing racailles, we made it into the city in one piece, and headed down towards Place de Clichy. This is when the tempest hit. It was already windy, and we'd had some tough going on the canal, but we ran full into a storm 3 kilometers from home. We're talking one of those bone-drenching, sheets of water storms where you can't do anything but cower for shelter. Finally, I made it back, a much wetter version of myself than when I left, but still in one piece.

Flip-flops

So, before I go to bed tonight, I have to tell this little story, just because it's so incredibly French.

Earlier, I stopped out to meet Meredith and we went by Monoprix to pick up some food to cook for dinner. When she called me from outside, I was just wearing a pair of Havaianas flip-flops for lounging around the apartment. Being lazy, and finally sticking my middle finger at European fashion sense, I rolled out of my place still wearing my flip-flops.

All was fine until I was heading back to the apartment with my groceries when I looked onto the street and saw my friend Mario, who lives in the building, coming towards the apartment. He looked at me, and laughed - "coming from the beach?" He laughed a bit, and I introduced him to Meredith, etc. I made a joke about how I always wear them in the States. He couldn't really get over it, "but we're in Paris" he said, clearly not understanding. He laughed a bit more, repeatedly looking down at my meager footwear. We BS'ed a bit as we walked up the stairs, and as he left, he said "make sure to wash your feet off."

Anyways, just one of those little cultural moments. I've honestly avoided wearing flip-flops up until now because I know it's not too French or anything, and I guess first time out, I reap the consequences. Oh, and for those of you wondering about a French guy named Mario, he's actually half Portuguese.

Sights Roundup

Well, even though the British are here, that hasn't really interrupted getting around Paris, I wasn't expecting a crowd of jersey-clad fans at the Musee de la Vie Romantique today...

I checked out the Catacombs yesterday, which are basically a series of underground tunnels you enter over by Place Denfert Rochereau (look for the green door). It's about 1.6 km long, and houses the remains of thousands upon thousands of people - whose bones were put under Paris due to the constant overcrowding of Paris cemetaries throughout the centuries. Literally, it's a lot of bones, stacked high on both sides of the tunnel. There's a few little eerie stopoff points with tombs or inscriptions as well. Not bad, but not something I'd reccomend if you're only in Paris for a few days - it was mostly American college tourists.

Also, I forgot to mention I turned 22 years young on Monday. Celebrated with food over by St. Germain - was a good time but I was a little bummed out because most of my American friends left this weekend for the States, so there's only a few of them around now.

Today, I spent the morning at the Musee de la Vie Romantique and I also finally went inside the Opéra Garnier. The Musee de la Vie Romantique is the museum of the life of George Sand, the nom de plume of the Baroness Dudevant. She spent her life writing and engaging in some of the great romances of the day with men such as Chopin and Delacroix. Although not exceptionally pretty (as you can see on her portrait at Wikipedia), she was fiercely intelligent and an early proponent of women's rights. The museum, on Rue Chaptal right off Rue Blanche, is a two-story house containing portraits and personal artifacts, and a great garden/tea area. The permanent collection is free access, so it's a great place to go and get away from some of the crazier parts of Paris. Also, the museum has a large collection of Sand's personal effects, jewelry, etc, which are very beautiful. The museum also has a temporary exhibition space that costs a few euors if you don't have an art history card. Right now there's a Picasso exhibit that chronicles his work with the engraver Piero Cromelynck (I found an English obituary here). There's a number of plates and prints, plus a series of erotic prints made by Picasso and also a room of presents - paintings/drawings Picasso did for Piero of his daughter and himself. It's cool to see "for Piero" with Picasso's signature on the bottom of lots of the drawings. Also, I'd reccomend reading more into the life of George Sand, everything from her royal heritage - she descends from the Saxes, who ruled Poland, and was also related to numerous French kings - to her liasons and her wonderful books are worth the time spent.

As for the Opera. I've passed by it so many times on the 68 Bus, but I've never gone inside until now. There's not much to say about it besides that it's gorgeous, obviously. Beautiful architecture, paintings, etc. Make sure to go when you can see inside the amphitheatre, because it's great to see all the red velvet chairs lined up and the stage. On the ceiling of the amphitheatre is a gigantic Chagall ceiling, which replaced the original, end of the 17th century one. I had a conversation with my host dad, and he explained it was there because of the changing fashion in Paris at the time, which I think is really too bad. As cool as the Chagall mural is, it's out of place with all of the baroque furnishings and decor.

Oh, and how can I forget the Star Wars: L'Expo. The Cite des Sciences is holding an Expo on all things Star Wars, and I went there yesterday with some buddies to geek it out for a while. Mission accomplished. I'm sure it's not high on many people's lists unless you're a fan like me, but it is worth a bit of time to see various movie props, concept sketches, etc, although there's nothing earth-shattering there.

The Da Vinci Code opens in Paris tonight. It goes without saying I have to see it here before I leave. The reviews I read out of Cannes sound mixed, but I'm still down.

The British are Coming

The British have descended on Paris like a fat, drunken apocalypse. Right now, out of my window overlooking a seemingly peaceful Parisian terrace, I can hear the fight song of Arsenal FC being sung. Sorry, the verb to sing implies maybe a modicum of artistic merit. These are drunken (keep in mind it's 2:45pm as I'm writing this), out of tune, overweight British soccer fans yelling something that sounds like "get out of the way, get out of the way" ad nauseum. As of now, they've invaded most of the bars around Place de Clichy, or any place that serves 2-pint beer glasses in preparation for the Champions League final being held in Paris at the Stade de France against FC Barcelona.

Last night, I went over by the Bastille to have a glass of wine at Cafe de Bastille before having dinner at Le Petit Bofinger. I was hoping for a relaxing hour or so with Meredith to do some people watching when we soon realized they'd came. We'd seen them earlier on the metro in their jerseys, blocking the moving walkway at the Chatelet Metro Station, trying to unwrap sandwiches and pop open beers. These same English soccer fans had been drinking for several hours at Kilty's Irish Pub on the Place de Bastille. These guys were loaded. We're talking spilling out into the streets, blocking traffic, staring down buses (and almost getting run over by one of them) and hoisting mugs high while belting out the Arsenal fight song, which is still managing to pierce through the tranquility of the garden by the apartment as I'm writing this.

Anyways, after tonight, they'll probably head out, or maybe some meek FC Barcelona fans will get out on the town as well, we'll see. I'm just not really looking forward to an Arsenal win tonight, even though I'd love to see them pull through against Barcelona - Thierry Henry is my favorite player.

Jean-Luc Godard at the Centre Pompidou

Well, it's more like "kind of Jean-Luc Godard" at the Centre Pompidou. Jacques tossed me an invite to the opening (or "vernissage") of the expo for last wednesday. I showed up, date on arm, only to read the program after walking into the exhibition space a little mystified. The program reads "this is not an expo for Godard, but 'of' Godard." What the hell does that mean? Well, it turns out that the expo is largely a collection of video screens beaming a collection of movies not made by Godard over two different and large rooms. Take, for example, a scene from Ben Hur, Black Hawk Down, or even hardcore pornography (we're talking freaky here). Add in random collections of shrubbery, metal fencing, beds, and miniature rooms with video iPods cranking out, well, videos, and you've got yourself quite an exhibition.

For example, in one display, you see a doll that represents a Modigliani painting that just happened to appear briefly in a scene in Pierrot le Fou, one of his cooler films, thanks in a large part to the still-cool at the epoch Jean-Paul Belmondo. Anyways, that's about as clear of a reference as you're going to get. Also, nothing is titled. And the program's headings aren't exactly 100% obvious.

Searching for some explanations, I asked the host dad, who works one floor above where the project team for the Godard expo spent two years putting stuff together. He explained that originally, Godard was behind the idea of the exhibition, but spent literally two years not responding to phone calls and letters. He didn't respond. Not once. Much to the hair-tugging anguish of the director of the exhibition, who was kind of counting on some help from the director himself, who is, certifiably at this point in his life a little bit bonkers, even if he is a cinematic genius and one of the major founders of modern cinema...

St. Malo

So, it turns out I didn't go to Normandy after all this weekend, as I found out instantly from the wide-eyed stare of my host dad's mother when I told her how happy I was to be in Normandy. St. Malo, for those who care, is actually in Brittany (which is a big deal for the rather region-centric French - up until the Middle Ages Brittany, or Bretagne, had its own local language, Breton). While I was there, I spent my time at thouse of my host dad's mother. Jacques' Mother is one of those old wives of a french seaman who keeps a display of sabres and sailor gear in the dining room. She's going blind and likes to yell, and loved that I can eat more meat the average androgynous french young man.

There's a decent site on St. Malo over at Wikipedia to get a better feel for the town. The town functioned for a long time as an important guard against the English, which is easy to see when you're anywhere around the town. Numerous forts dot the islands aroung the town, some designed by the famous military architect Vauban. The fortifications, especially for a castle geek such as myself, provide plenty of a reason to visit. In fact, up until World War Two, the town was never taken, despite many Briths attempts to the contrary. One of their most famous involves turning an old warship into a powderkeg called the "Infernal Machine" and letting it loose against St. Malo. It was caught up in the rocks surrounding the city and never got close enough, exploding in a huge fireball which blew out many of the windows in St. Malo.

Also, thanks to host dad, who knows the curator of the Duchal Castle on one side of St. Malo, I got to go through a private tour of the off-limits ramparts of the castle. So damn cool. It really gives you a sense of how incredibly well-protected this city was.

Well, besides the swashbuckling adventures of the town and it's various offspring such as Jacques Cartier, there's also the beach. Don't forget the beach. St. Malo is right on the channel, and I spent a lot of my time when I wasn't on a bicycle zooming between fortifications taking in some salty air and dipping my toes gingerly in the water (I don't take well to cold water).

Normandy for the Weekend

I'm off to join my host dad at his mother's place in St. Malo. He told me to bring along a swimsuit, so I'm looking forward to getting out of Paris for a bit and just relaxing, since finals just ended on Thursday. From now on, it's smooth sailing...

I'll update when I get back on the Jean-Luc Godard opening I went to at the Pompidou on Wednesday, and whatever else has been going on around here. Things have been hectic, lots of goodbyes as most people are leaving Paris right after the program ends (ie: most are heading out this weekend).

About.com French

This is a site I've been going to for the last year and a half or so to bone up on my french. It's updated almost every day and does a good job of keeping up with "argot" or slang, plus useful lessons and more - highly reccomended.

Palais de Tokyo

I know I mentioned in my last post that I went to the Palais de Tokyo, but I want to talk a bit more about it, since it's really about as modern as one can get for an art in Paris - everything on display is from artists ranging from my age to their sixties. It just opened up in January, 2002, and is facing the end of its first batch of curators, which are to be rotated every five years to keep what's happening fresh and different. So, for their last expo, the curators are showing what they feel will be the most important artists of the future - and it's an interesting mix.

What sometimes is odd for me about seeing super-contemporary art is that in many ways, it's incredibly nebulous. Art has basically succeeded in becoming absolutely anything. There's no more medieval craftsman's guilds or neoclassical rigidity or even the burden of having to paint what one sees. We've succeeded, through this gigantic series of reactions upon reactions, of basically reacting against everything rigid in art. What's difficult for me is that, after spending some time at my favorite place - the Musee Gustave Moreau, and then going to check out the Greek and Roman Antiquities at the Louvre today - is that these are things that are marvels. Be it red figure pottery or one of the fantastical designs of Moreau, a man that taught Matisse and many other important painters, you get a real palpable sense of a creation. In super-contemporary art, which is often incredibly esoteric to begin with, it's hard for me to stare at a watermelon on a stand in the Palais de Tokyo. I guess what I'm trying to say is that art is anything, everything. While I appreciate the possibility of expression opened up, it's also disheartening to walk into a museum and literally not even want to take a second look at half of the works.

That's not to say there aren't good things at the Tokyo, there are plenty, and I'd reccomend it as well because it's open until midnight, and there's no better way to get a sense of being hip and Parisian. Also, the boutique and bookstore are both incredibly cool - perfect place to buy a gift for someone who's kind of eclectic. Also, I saw a lot of kids there - some of the works are interactive and it's almost like being in a science museum - I'd reccomend it for that.

Wine on the Terrace

I just got back from a few delightful bottles of wine on the terrace with Jacques and his friend Francoise (note to self: stop writing blog entries while under the influence). Anyways, in between the chocolate and strawberries, and of course, wine, I began to have one of those awful realisations that I'm leaving this place. While Jacques was admonishing me for not yet reading Proust, I almost welled up with tears, knowing this would be one of the last times I'd face shock and disbelief for not being completely au courant with all manner of French culture. "Wait, you've never read Tocqueville? Quelle horreur." While Jacques and Francoise spent the next 30 minutes debating the merits of Proust and a litany of other important French authors, I proceeded to listen, and drink, and eat strawberries all along.

This proclivity for haughty cultural talk, which might be termed mental masturbation in the States, definitely plays an important role here. I'll never forget being in the toilet room of some good family friends (which also happens to contain a bookshelf), and looking straight on at Voltaire, Moliere, and all other manner of French masterworks, all in pocket editions, spines well-creased by repeated readings. I took the bait from Francoise tonight and she's going to make a list. A list I predict will be exceedingly long, covering all the essential "bases" of Frenc literature.

On another note, Paris has really sprung into its own, weather-wise. Spring is here, and hopefully to stay. Everything has become beautiful and green. Everything has also started to become hot as I've realized the sad truth of the matter - Paris is not air-conditioned. And it's not even summer yet. I went to Palais de Tokyo last night - the contemporary art museum (ie: artists my age to 60-something) - and devolved into a pool of sweat in their upper floor, which for some reason was literally over 90 degrees (and it's only been in the 70s outside).

80 Best Bistros in Paris

Here's a link to the article. There goes my wallet. I'll try to check out a few on the list before I head out of here.

Rene Magritte at the Musee Maillol

"This is not a Pipe" or "The Treachery of Images"

The Musee Maillol, right off the Rue de Bac metro stop, is holding a really fun Magritte expo I just saw today. While I know this isn't the most academic way to describe it, I've always liked Magritte because I always get a chuckle out of him. His stuff is silly and absurb, but also spot-on and often pretty funny. For instance, one of the drawings (the expo is called "Tout en Papier" - all on paper, so there are no paintings) shows a man painting a bird onto a canvas, while he looks at an egg on a table - and the title is "Le Clairvoyant." Anyways, without giving away too much more, I'd reccomend checking it out for a little breath of fresh air. Magritte has always been one of the most original artists.

More on Jane Jacobs

Well, Kottke.org is still putting up posts on Jane Jacob's legacy, and this one's also interesting as far as urban space is concerned.

Cities are a "Clash of Scales" Article

Avant-Garde Art in the 13th Arrondisement

Found this article on Gridskipper. Here's the text, and head to the article for a lot of links related to it...

You want to see the real contemporary art scene in Paris? You’ll have to schlep a little. Get off the metro at Chevaleret (line 6) and head for rue Louise Weiss, rue Duchefdelaville, and rue du Chevaleret. The galleries in this part of town will give you a taste for the up-and-coming young artists – some, but not all, from Paris. Opening hours can be a little erratic, so check before heading for the 13th arrondissiment.

The district is always under construction, and it’s seen the emergence of a succession of galleries in recent years. Originally set up as a community project, various organizations shared rent on premises that could be divided up, also sharing invitation lists and holding joint openings. There’s such a joint vernissage on Saturday, April 29, at 4 p.m.; the next one is June 8. Interesting gallery standouts include Kréo, devoted entirely to design; or Jousse Entreprise, which exhibits both 1950s furniture and contemporary art. It was in this area that Emmanuel Perrotin (now in the Marais with the old guard) originally took a gamble on the Japanese artist Takashi Murakami before he landed the Louis Vuitton bags. The best bets this coming weekend are probably Galerie Magda Daynz, showing Miss Van’s super-sexy graffiti; and Galerie Praz-Delavallade, showing Iranian-born and Switzerland-based video artist Shahryar Nashat. Miss Van’s after-show party is at La Suite – to get on the guest list, email aftershow@magda-gallery.com. Other recommended venues to visit include Air de Paris, Galerie GB Agency, Galerie Almine Rech, and Galerie Suzanne Tarasieve.

I'll see what I can do about going over and checking out some galleries, even though time is kind of turning into a premium since I'm down to my last month.

Chateau de Vincennes, Mini Golf & Parc Floral photos

The Keep of Chateau de Vincennes

About to shoot a 2 on the Arc de Triomphe

Notre Dame is mine

After finishing off the Eiffel Tower... Hole #18

Le Mini Golf and other things

Today, after having to make a quick trip down to the study center to record a cassette with a 5-min "personal summary" of my stay in Paris for class, I met up with a friend and headed out to Chateau de Vincennes. We had really wanted to check out the new Magritte expo at the Musee Maillol, but it'll be there for a while, and nice days in Paris are always less than a sure thing. The Chateau itself is pretty interesting, having grown up reading David Macaulay's Castle (basically one of the best books and companion dvd of all time) and about three hundred other books on knights and castles and such, I was a little let down by the lack of "medieval-ness." However, there is very cool but small keep that was the home of Saint Louis, but it's under renovation until March 2007. Overall, it's good for a walk, but you won't be running across battlements, pretending to shoot a bow and arrow (or maybe that's just what I do...).
After, we found out that the Floral Park is right on the backside of Chateau de Vincennes, and since it was still gorgeous out, we headed over and spent a few hours going around there. There's some sort of Japanese expo going on now which includes Japanese artwork, performances, and I assume, flowers.
The highlight was the mini golf. Yes, mini golf in Paris (well, technically outside the peripherique I think). Let me say first that the state of mini golf in the States is a lot more solid, but this was still a fun time, even though it was all asphalt. What made it such a riot, despite the awful hole design, was the theme: Paris. Every single hole has a weather-resistant little replica of a Parisian monument. It's so kitschy. For instance, the hole for the Pompidou one involves hitting your ball inside the mini shop class replica of the Pompidou (which is actually like an impressive 3-4 ft high) and then up a ramp and down one of the external ducts into a hole. The Sacre Coeur one is actually situated on an incline, and you have to give the rubber ball quite a tap to make it inside the Sacre Coeur, before it shoots it out another entrance and down to the hole. Also, it must be said that the Tour Eiffel is hole 18.
After, I stopped by the Louvre for a bit to check out the Tintoretto/Venice temporary exhibit, which is actually just one room, but presents a number of interpretations of "le paradis" from different artists who were all vying for the same commission in Venice, which Tintoretto ultimately received. I also checked out the Medieval Beaux-Arts - which has a sizeable collection from St. Denis Abbey, including stuff that belonged to the great Abbot Suger.

Rich Artists, Bad Art?

Here's an article from the Guardian on the perils/successes of being rich and an artist. One forgets that artists such as Picasso, Monet, and Dali actually did profit from their success - often it's the other side that gets the most attention: the suicidal or starving artists such as Van Gogh or even Rothko.

Jane Jacobs and Urban Planning

Well, since I'm in Paris, one of the big urban centers of the world, I don't think I could really pass up at least noting the passing of Jane Jacobs, who died on Tuesday. I'll admit that I'd only heard about her book, The Death and Life of Great American Cities, before. It's been on my mental must-read list for the last year, but you know how those lists go, or don't go. I've mentioned before, I'm a big reader of Kottke.org, because Jason Kottke posts on stuff he finds interesting, and the stuff he finds interesting is in general interesting, so it all works out. Anyways, he's been doing a bit on Jane Jacobs since she passed away, putting up some links to articles, etc, and I've gotten more and more into what she was all about. I think a good start is this article here from Slate.com, which is a consistently interesting and relevant site. Here's an excerpt:
Jacobs' own prescription, inasmuch as she had one, was based on an appreciation of the vitality of traditional urban neighborhoods, in particular Greenwich Village in New York, where she lived. Lively and interesting street life, a diversity of uses, residential areas intensified by parks and squares and public buildings, a mixture of old and new buildings, and the importance of what she called districts—areas with a functional and recognizable identity—these were the ingredients of successful urban neighborhoods. Compared with the ambitious and innovative ideas of architects and planners, it sounded ridiculously simple, not to say simplistic.

And here's the last paragraph:

That vision of the urban good life had wide appeal, but the supply of old cities that offered the requisite mix of street life, architecture, and diversity was limited. The lively city districts that Jacobs championed, including her beloved Village, have become exclusive enclaves, closed to all but the extremely wealthy. She always considered the amenities of city life to be everyday and widely available goods. Little could she have imagined then that they would become luxuries instead.

This is the part that I found the most interesting and unfortunate, because it's a truth I can see here, in Paris, but also easily in Washington DC or in Minneapolis. Types of areas such as the Marais in Paris, Dupont Circle or Adams Morgan in DC, or Uptown in Minneapolis all have a lot of the ingredients that Jane Jacobs was talking about, but less and less of the access. Living in any of these areas (or increasingly, a city in general), has become an expensive proposition - which nullifies a lot of the vibrancy that creates that initial demand. I wonder where some sort of equilibrium can be found between money, security, vibrancy, and individuality in urban space. Is it even possible?

20 Years Later: Chernobyl

Outside the Paris vein, obviously, but there's a moving photo essay on Chernobyl here: http://todayspictures.slate.com/inmotion/essay_chernobyl/

I think part of the problem with a disaster like Chernobyl is that everyone knows it happened, knows it was awful, but until you see some of these pictures, it's hard to grasp how awful it truly is. In this new era where we can't shup up about nuclear bombs, these pictures are worth a look.

Juergen Teller, Tadanori Yokoo and Italia Nova

Today was a big day for museums. Before lunch, I checked out the Juergen Teller and Tadanori Yokoo exhibits at the Fondation Cartier. Juergen Teller is most known these days for his shoots for Marc Jacobs or Yves Saint Laurent, but his expo at the Cartier is a lot more personal. While there are a few shots of Kate Moss in various poses, most are more simple, and involve his children or his wife, or even just nude shots of himself. I'd highly reccomend checking it out.

The other part of the Cartier's current exhibit is a Japanese artist, Yokoo, who is compelling to say the least. I wish I had read more before I had gone in, because there's a lot of references and such in his work that seem really esoteric, but also definitely worth gaining a fuller understanding of. Most of the paintings in the exhibit are from his "red period," so literally, expect a lot of red.

Later this evening, I checked out the nocturne of Italia Nova at the Grand Palais, which is a retrospective on Italian Art from 1900-1950. It's a quick hop through all the major periods in Italian Art from that period - Futurism to Magical Realism to Tabula Rasa. I'd reccomend it purely for the educational value - there's some amazing de Chiricos and everything is explained very thoroughly. While I didn't like all the periods of art, it was a great introduction to Italian Modernism. There's going to be some rooms you dislike and some you love, but that's the way it goes with modern art. My favorite were the paintings on Magical Realism - I loved way in which the artists depicted people and their surroundings. This is a good partner exhibit to the Rousseau, just beware that they are separate exhibits on opposite sides of the aptly-named Grand Palais, and both cost 8 Euros with student reduction, and 10 Euros without.

Quick vs McDonalds

I just finished up a pasta dinner full of things Jacques brought back from his trip to Italy - Parmesan Reggiano, Italian Sausage, and fresh olive oil. I also had a bit of wine. Actually, quite a bit - enough to have my head light enough to discuss the various merits and downsides of the two competing burger fast food chains in France.

First, I feel a little bit of background is necessary. Paris is an expensive city. It's hard to eat out for under 10 Euros, and you should reasonably expect 15-20 Euros for a decent meal including some sort of drink. Given the awful exchange rate here that has consistently been kicking my bank account's rear end since I got here, we're looking at easily over $20 for a decent meal out. Of course, there are other options. I've mentioned the Student Cafes, which I do go often for lunch during the week. There's also cheap asian places, with prix fixe menus at around 6 Euros for something like an entree, a plate, and some rice. Of course, these places can often be the food poisoning express, as many of my american and french friends have found out. There's also the obvious choice - cook for yourself. Which I do. Every morning I do breakfast at home, and most dinners during the week involve something from Monoprix, ATAC, or Picard.

The problem that often arises is that Paris is such a social city. Dinner parties are a major part of your social life in Paris. With so much amazing food around, it's hard to avoid them. If you spend a day out and about, such as I did today going to various expos, you're going to find yourself undoubtedly in some random corner of Paris with an empty stomach.

This is where fast food rears its affordable head. You can eat for under 6 Euros, no worries about slow waiters, overpriced tourist trap food, and you know what you're getting. Fast food for me is what I eat when I need to refuel on the run.

The two big options, as I've mentioned, are Quick and McDonalds. Quick, or "Quality Burger Restaurant" is as far as I can tell, a French chain. And honestly, it's pretty awful. It's more expensive that McDonalds and not nearly as good. Avoid it at all costs, and don't say I didn't warn you. Their "gourmet" monthly sandwiches and everything might sound inviting, but they're flavorless and overpriced.

McDonalds, on the other hand, is the roi of french fast food. McDonalds in France is surprisingly not bad and has a particular French take that separates it from the American ones. For instance, they have espresso. Yes, you heard me right, you can get (mediocre) espresso at McDo. There's also another option for french fries, which are larger "Grands Patates" or whatever they call them, and are potato wedges with a sour cream dipping sauce. If I were you, I would avoid the Croque McDo, which is McDonald's overpriced and poor take on the croque monsieur. Also, the Royal Bacon is delicious, as are their Strawberry (fraise) Milkshakes.

One of the hard things for me is that their menu is basically English. Chicken McNuggets in France are still Chicken McNuggets, but with a french accent on them. They become "cheekenn Meecnuggehts." Same for words like Milkshake or McFlurry or le Big Mac. I've actually tried just saying them in English, but the cashiers always look at me quizzically.

Also, the French absolutely love McDonalds. Love. There are always lines at the Place de Clichy McDonalds. It was also the case in Barcelona, where lines were out the door at the La Ramblas location. I think a big part of the reason they love it so much is what I mentioned before about food prices. You see a lot of younger people there that really don't have any other options for food. It's not like kids go around eating onion soup and duck breast everyday, as appetizing as that might be.

Back in the Saddle

After two weeks of being out of Paris, I jumped back into the fray on saturday, after taking friday off to get some japanese food and see "V pour Vendetta." I finally went over to see the very solid Dora Maar exhibit at the Musee Picasso. It chronicles her relationship with the painter through photos and memorabilia collected after her death in 1997, along with portraits of her by Picasso and plenty of his other works. One of the highlights, besides all the amazing candid shots of Picasso is the Guernica series, where she photographed him during the making of his masterpiece. So you see the evolution from the blank canvas to finished product in stages.

After that, I walked around the Marais for the afternoon, which is quite a sight on a beautiful saturday. The streets were packed with people, as were all the shops and cafes lining the narrow streets. A promenade around Paris is an experience on many levels. Besides the amazing coffee and food to be found, there's also the Parisiennes out for spring. That was followed by a barbeque out at Bois de Vincennes with some friends of Andrew's, then off to an apartment party over by Rue St. Maur.

Today was "Museum Day." Basically, I have this list of exhibitions I still need to see, and I figured today was a good time to cross off three of them. I started out by going to the Grand Palais to see the Henri Rousseau exhibit - Jungles in Paris. I kind of go back and forth on Rousseau, some of his stuff is really not skilled enough and comes off as childish. In other works, his simple style really comes through and helps the painting, especially with his jungle paintings which are the centerpiece of the exhibit. I'd reccomend it at the least just for the opportunity to see something a little different. Beware though, Grand Palais doesn't really take History of Art student cards for free admission, I had to pay 8 Euros, which I haven't had to do in a long time with that card.

I hopped across the street to the new Peru exhibit at the Petit Palais. It covers works such as pottery, metal, jewelry, and textiles on all of the separate pre-Spanish Peruvian empires. The highlight for me was the Moche who were a very aggressive empire, known for rather explicit or violent imagery. Their artifacts because especially famous after the discovery of the Lord of Sipan - which I studied in archaelogy last semester and is basically the King Tut of new world archaelogy. I'd highly reccoment this exhibit, it doesn't overwhelm you but provides lots of background information on all the successive empires and their artistic styles, geography, and history.

Since it was nice out, I took the walk down along the Seine to the Louvre, where I used my Louvre Card to bypass the ever-growing lines of spring. I went there specifically to see the new Islamic art exhibit called "From Cordoba to Samarquand" which is a small exhibit put on in conjunction with the under construction (and I.M. Pei-designed) Museum of Islamic Arts in Doha, Qatar. It's only a few pieces, no more than 50, but they're all unbelievable. Seeing the calligraphy got me really excited for my Arabic classes next year. After that, I did the complete circuit of all of the French and Northern School paintings, everything from Le Brun and Poussin to Vermeer, Van Dyck and Rembrandt. I am now officially all arted out. Until I go and see the Juergen Teller thing tomorrow at the Fondation Cartier.

My day was only spoiled by the rain, as was everyone else's as I sat outside of the Centre Pompidou eating a French excuse for a muffin from Starbucks. On a side note, it looks like the whole Tunisia thing is on the rocks this summer. It's probably not going to be a big wage-earning job, and eventually we all have to get around to that type of stuff. Off to the salt mines of Minneapolis it's looking like.

Camel's Milk

I'm linking to this article on camel's milk only because I had the (mis)fortune of trying it in Morocco this summer. For lack of a better expression it's not quite my cup of tea. Salty and kind of odd. I could see it being a hit with the health nut/bourgeoisie Trader Joe's crowd as this article suggests...

Paris to Marrakech (and back)

So I'm back in Paris, chilling the in relative comfort of the guest room at my place (the only place I can find "Jenny WiFi" - the only unencrpyted WiFi around). This morning, I woke up at 6:30 at the Hotel Islane in Marrakech, which is a 2 minute walk to the Djemaa el Fnaa ("Square of the Dead" - where they used hold public beheadings) in Marrakech. Steven and I got out the door by 7:00 and luckily my slightly expanded Moroccan Arabic vocabulary helped us get a decent price from a petit taxi to the Marrakech-Menara airport for a flight back up to Paris.

Anyways, from that point, there probably needs to be a fair bit of rewinding. I need to write about Aix-en-Province, Barcelona, Algeciras/Gibraltar, Tangiers, Rabat, and Marrakech... I'll see what I can do. For now, I'll just post a few highlights:

- Unfortunately only Steven got to see me geek out at this, but I flipped out when we got to see Gibraltar. The rock is basically impregnable and still remains a British military base. Eisenhower was there during World War Two, and... yeah. I'll stop there. Trust me, it's cool.

- Seeing my buddies in Rabat was great and surreal. When you associate a place so closely with a particular period of time in your life, it's weird to go back, even though this summer isn't that far in the past, I've been in Minnesota, Washington, and Paris since, so I'd reallly built up distance. Get this: I taught the Moroccans how to bowl at the Mega Mall in Rabat, and I also taught them how to play Beer Pong with some Casablanca Beer. American culture 101. It also helped I was there with Steven.

- When I got into Marrakech yesterday, I headed straight for Restaurant Chegrouni, which has the best Tajines I've ever found in a restaurant in Morocco. The time before that I was in Marrakech, I ate there twice. Get the poule citron tajine with almonds. Eat it with bread and order some Jus d'Avocat (avocado juice with milk) to wash it down.

- The Fundacion Miro in Barcelona has an exceptional temporary expo on an artist I first discovered at the Musee d'Art Moderne de la ville de Paris, Douglas Gordon. He uses video a lot as a medium but also does some installation work. I especially liked the title of one of his works there which was called "What Have I Done" and was around 26 TVs playing all of his work. I liked the whole lack of a "?" wordplay.

- I actually stayed outside of Algeciras for the one night I was there in town of La Linea, which is minutes away along the coast and right next to Gibraltar. Steven and I got a hotel there at the AC La Linea for half price, aka 62 Euros. This was after 5 rooms in two hostels over 6 nights in booked-solid Barcelona and a night train down to the south of spain. There was TV. There was a shower. There was a free minibar. There was quite decent mexican food close by. I was happy.

I'll get some pictures posted when I get them.

Barcelona, Take 2

I´m sitting in an Easy Internet Cafe right on La Ramblas right now, just finishing up my allotted half hour before I head off into the craziness that is Spain on Good Friday... everyone is on the streets right now and there´s a parade later.

I have a night train from Barcelona to Bobadilla in the south of Spain, then I´m taking a regional train and spending a night in Algeciras before taking the boat over to Morocco. All goes well, I´ll spend a few days in Rabat before heading down to Marrakech for my flight on the 21st.

Barcelona is crazy and quite amazing. There´s some well-done museums here, I checked out the Joan Miro Foundation and the National Museum of Catalonia yesterday, which of all things has a Toulouse-Lautrec Lithograph exhibit. I´ll write more on them and on Barcelona when I have a bit more free time, probably when I´m back in Paris... Now it´s off to get some tapas and some cold Spanish beer.

Barcelona, take 1

So I'm here at the Habana Home hostel in Barcelona, typing away on one of their computers with free internet. Due to Semana Santa and poor planning, I'm basically here until Saturday, when I take a night train down to get close to Algeciras, and then hopefully a ferry monday morning to Tangier, Morocco so that I can train it on down to Rabat for a few days. First impressions on Barcelona are pretty positive. I've been here since Sunday night and I'm finally getting into the rhythm. The city is very well laid-out, lots of wide boulevards, very pretty architecture (and plenty of weird buildings designed by Gaudi), and plenty to do and see. Unfortunately, it's been pretty chilly here, ie: in the 50s, so I haven't been able to enjoy the beach life or anything like that.

Also because of Semana Santa, there's been a lot of jockeying around between hostels, which has been really tiring. Everything is pretty much booked solid so that we can't leave Barcelona to go to Lisbon or anything, and staying here is almost as difficult... I'll write more probably when I get down to Morocco and get back to the familiar internet cafe in Rabat, inshalla.

ps- I know this has been communicated to me before, but the sheer amount of awful hairstyles here is unbelievable. Mullets, bad dye-jobs, etc. Everywhere.

Bonjour America

Just came across this very popular French blogger who's now trying to make a name for himself here with taped video messages to America. Here's the article where I heard about him on BBC, and here's his french blog. I haven't watched any of the videos yet, but it looks like they're searchable on his blog, and if not I'm sure a quick Google search would turn up something.

Article + more spring break

I just got this article of AP. Thought it was pretty interesting since there have been so many disruptions around here lately. Students have been closing down railway stations and interfering with the RER for a while now. Oviously this isn't the way to react... I hope my TGV to Aix tomorrow isn't going to have any problems. Also, I just picked up some tickets. Since the Spanish train online system is not responding to requests (which didn't surprise me whatsoever) I have a train to Aix, and on Sunday I'm heading to Barcelona, which I'll reach at night. I have a hostel there with Steven up through Wednesday, then we're going to try and get over to Lisbon before going down to Morocco. Motorist Drives Through Crowd in Paris Apr 07 11:07 AM US/Eastern

PARIS

A motorist drove through a crowd of students protesting the government's new youth jobs law Friday near the Sorbonne University, injuring seven people.

Furious demonstrators overturned the car and tried to kick its windows out, while police in riot gear and helmets worked to disperse the crowd.

The incident came after high school students spent the afternoon disrupting traffic outside the Sorbonne by picnicking on a busy boulevard. They were heading away when a frustrated motorist tried to burst through the crowd.

Several dozen youths turned the car over and unsuccessfully attempted to drag the driver out before police and onlookers intervened.

Firefighters said seven people suffered light injuries.

French students have been protesting for weeks over a new law that will make it easier for companies to hire and fire people under age 26. While most demonstrations have been peaceful, some have seen violence from a radical fringe.

Spring Break it

I'm in the middle of packing for what will be a 2-week odyssey with Stephen through France, Spain, Portugal, and Morocco. Right now it looks like we'll be staying in Lyon, Aix, Barcelona, and Lisbon, before we hop a train to the south to take the ferry to Morocco. My end flight is the 21st out of Marrakech on Royal Air Maroc to Paris at 9:30am.

I'll have scattered internet access at cafes when I can get it, and more when I get down to Rabat.

I don't think this has all really sunk in. Truth be told, I'm a little apprehensive. Steven just got his Euro Rail pass, so we're going to make train reservations, then book a few hostels online, and hopefully depart later this afternoon. This whole backpacking/Euro Pass thing is not my cup of tea in general. It's definitely going to be a string of situations that might require some getting adjusting to, and all of the sticking to train times and making sure to get to Morocco will probably be stressful.

But, on the bright side, I'm fucking traveling around Europe (and Morocco). Now I'll just say that to myself another thirty times.

The quoteable strikes

"... there is no doubt that the French are cutting their own throats by striking at every opportunity. Last year French railways lost 10 per cent of their freight traffic - more than any other country in Europe - through actions like this... France and Italy are in a headlong economic race to be the sick man of Europe."

- Chris Davies, leader of Britains Liberal MEPs

I'm going to try and find some of the slogans the students have been using, some of them have been really clever. I remember seeing this one at a metro station in Montparnasse - "CPE = Contrat Poubelle Embauche" (poubelle is trash can in French). The graphic had a trash can with the CPE stuffed in it. Trust me, there's about 40 million other acronyms they've come up with as well.

New-ish in Paris

- I know I already noted the Los Angeles Exhibit at the Pompidou, but I'd like to reiterate how much I liked it. Provocative stuff, and a little taste of what the French really seem to idolize about California style (ie: American Apparel is without a doubt la mode here).

- I've heard that the new Juergen Teller exhibit at the Fondation Cartier is quite good, I just found this article on it from Paris Voice. At least go to see the building by Jean Nouvel.

- And even though I already mentioned the Los Angeles exhibit for a bit of escapism, there's also the Rousseau Exhibit at the Grand Palais, which I've also heard is "magnifique."

The Young and the Jobless

This post title is the heading of this piece on Slate.com that asks for reader's reactions to the demonstrations in France against the CPE. I found this little bit interesting:
"It is time that the French government, and a few others in the EU, realised that the job of the government is to make unpleasent short term choices that will lead to long term improvements."

Week in Paris

Just said my goodbyes to my relatives (mom, sis, aunt, cousin) who spent a fair chunk of time here in Paris. The first weekend, we went up to Bruges. Getting back Monday, we commenced with the whirlwind tour. For example, on Friday, we split up and half did the Centre Pompidou (the new Los Angeles Exhbit is so cool), while the other half went to check out the Bonnard exhibit (which I talked about earlier, and is amazing. It even just got a big writeup in the NY Times). Then we met up after some street food and went to the Petit Palais, where we did the tour and I showed my mom one of my favorite paintings - Portrait de Sarah Bernhardt by Georges Clairin. After that, we took the metro over to St. Germain des Pres to get a coffee at Cafe de Flore. Then we did some shopping and hopped on over to the Louvre because it's open late Wed and Friday. After our whirlwind trip around the Louvre, with me jabbing elbows to get through huge crowds of tourists, we had dinner at my place, where Jacques made Osso Bucco (am I spelling that right?). A few bottles of wine later, we all filed out and I fell into a deep sleep.

Some other highlights:
- My family loved the Orsay the most (big surprise), and really raved about it the most throughout the trip.
- Shopping in the Marais is always a kick for people. I took them to Muji, one of my favorite stores here in Paris, where they have really cool stationery and such. I also really like their clothes, which are utilitarian and urban but not too expensive.
- They also really dug the bag store Brontibay on Rue de Sevigne right off Rue Rivoli.

CPE, etc

I just found this great article on BBC News that does a good job looking at the underlying reasons behind the demonstrations that have been beamed around the world over the last two weeks.

The gist of the article is that France has 23% youth unemployment and that french students are craving a stable and accessible job market. On the other hand, there's a university system and a social practice that puts these students through years of studies with very little practical/professional experience, which makes companies loathe to hire them, especially with the importance, and moreover, expectation of job security in France.

One of the things that's rarely mentioned about the CPE is that after these 2 years of "precarite," where a student can be fired without reason, you're relatively set. It's hard to fire people in France. That's the fact here and I don't know how these students can feel so entitled to job security without being able to prove themselves first. Is the CPE equitable and fair? Well, it's hard to rent an apartment and secure financing without job security, but at the same time, why give a permanent job to someone right out of university who has no hands-on experience?

Personally, I feel that this country babies their students way too much. They're not expected to work during college, often live at home late into their 20s, and pay chump change (ie: a few hundred dollars a year) to go to University for a year. When you throw all of these (costly) benefits at these kids, no wonder they're going to come out of a system like this and expect a degree of continuance into the real world. These students need to make themselves more available and employable to companies in France. Sorry, you're not going to get a career right out of college, it's an economic reality. Understand it, and be flexible. Because the state, which is in my opinion way too powerful here in France can only support a certain level of government patronage.

Update

Spent the weekend in Bruges with my recently-arrived family members. The 4 of us, plus Aygline and Vincent, took the TGV to Lille where we were picked up by the same family friends who had me in Bruges before. The weekend was full of chocolate and good belgian beer and ridiculous waffles. We got back into town on monday, and I've been in tourist mode full-on. I haven't even had enough time to really check out the protests. But honestly, they haven't had too much effect on my daily life - Paris isn't some sort of burning city in the hands of anarchists (yet).

I'll post more once I get my life in order and catch up on some schoolwork, etc.

French Books

This is an article put out by the French Books Newsletter which highlights some of the most recent french-related and translated works that are available right now. I found this link from an expat blog I check every now and then called In Paris Now.

Since we're on the subject of lists, I'd throw in anything by Alistair Horne, especially La Belle France (which I'm currently reading) or the Seven Ages of Paris. He's an English historian who has received the Legion d'Honneur for his work in french history. Also, there's the helpful French or Foe and Sixty Million Frenchmen Can't Be Wrong if you're planning on a trip to France.

On a sidenote about French History... I am a history major and a french minor. When I explain that to french people, they instantly assume I'm a french history major. Lately, I've just been rolling with that and forsaking the whole explanation (aka I've taken a lot of classical, latin american, and european history, and never a specific course on the history of france outside of my european survey course). Plus it makes french people like me more.

Monoprix Moments ©

I was at Monoprix two days ago when I heard Antony and the Johnsons while browsing the wine selection. I love France.

Also, I've been keeping the cd "Alligator" by a group called The National on heavy rotation on my iPod since I've been here. Very good and accessible album, I highly reccomend it.

the top level

Last night, I went over to the 11th arrondisement to go to meet an old friend of my dad's for dinner at her husband's restaurant. The restaurant, on 31 Rue St. Maur in the 11th arrondisement, was amazing. Joelle's husband, Gary - who is actually English - cooks some of the best french classics I've had here yet. I started out with a decent beer that's easy to find around here called Leffe, while I waited for the menus to be printed out. (You can tell it's a good place if they have a changing menu that needs to be printed, you'll be getting quality food that's available and in season.) I skipped the entree and went right to the main course (since it was a free dinner, I didn't want to be that guy who orders everything), which was an amazing Magret de Canard (duck) with saffron butter. Duck has really become my favorite thing here, and I ate everything, fat and all. For dessert, after having gone through a bit of wine, I had probably the best Tiramisu I've ever had. The whipping cream was about 20 steps up the ladder from anything I've had before. On the way out, I made sure to leave an extra-big tip for the incredibly cute french waitress and thank Gary for some amazing food.

I'm going to repeat the address because it's that good: 31 Rue St. Maur. You can get there by taking the Line 3 to the Rue St. Maur stop, or by Place de Voltaire, or any of the stops around that area in the 11th. It's a charming and not overly done up place that has an exclusively french clientele, and a dinner "formule" for 18.50 euros which includes an entree and a main plate, but make sure to save room for the tiramisu. Like I talked about in my earlier post where I mentioned La Chope Daguerre, this place is good because it's in a relatively neighboody location, far from the overpriced culinary black hole of the 7th arrondisement (you can quote me on that). So, if you want a genuinely amazing night of food, check it out. Also, it's not far at all from Oberkampf or Menilmontant, so you won't be pressed to find cool (and french) bars for later.

Speaking of later, after leaving the restaurant, I went over to finally meet up with my friend from back home, Andrew, who actually goes to the American University in Paris. He was there with his mom, sister, and his turkish friend who were all visiting from various corners of the globe. Since his friend had never seen the Eiffel Tower, we took a freezing cold but beautiful trip up to the top to check out Paris late at night.

Talking with Andrew really helped me get excited about being in Paris (as if I wasn't enough already). He's been here so long that he's really found his niche, has met amazing friends from all over the world, and has really explored France. He also helped me realize, in between talking about castles in Portugal that I have to visit when I'm down there, how much of a sponge I've become here. I feel that this is about as open as I've ever been. I've become a lot more conscious that life is really just this amazing chain of experiences. Each one you have help you with the next. Life can be sad, depressing, or even downright awful, but at the same time, staring out over the lights of Paris from the Tower and talking about Morocco, I couldn't imagine something more perfect. Anyways, that's enough rambling on my part. Suffice to say I'm happy here. And even when I'm no longer here (god forbid), I'll hopefully remain conscious of this melange of frenchness thrown at me from every-which angle.