tic toc goes the easter clock

I really like how people glue artistic statements up in the streets of Paris, whether it be to share a rainbow that counts black among its 4 colours, or to compare time to a kit-kat bar.

word on the street

To be continued...

The great ban plea

Coloured toilet paper, please die and become a ghost!

Pompidou

An old friend just happened to swing by Paris last week, leaving me with a museum pass that was still good for a day. Since I am swamped with reading assignments all month, I didn’t have time to execute the grand museum tour of the town, but I did make a point of spending a couple of hours at the Museum of Fine Art, which just happens to be a few steps away from my tiny abode. The nice thing about going to a museum in Paris is you can actually take photos of the art. And to think I've almost been kicked out of New-York museums for boldly attempting such a feat! Behold: Buddha getting gutted, a Basquiat, a Picasso, not to mention a screening room full of empty chairs! The Syrian signs (depicting pop culture personae such as Michael Jackson, Lolita, and the like) were part of a non verbal film featuring random people brandishing them in public places and deserted middle eastern road sides. If that sounds like it might be unsettling, I will tell you that it was, but it was also soothing for some reason. Perhaps it was because I got to sit on such a lovely chair.

Ligne 5

Third Time Lucky

It's hard to believe that just one week ago, I was walking around lost in Thiais, looking to the closest IKEA outside of Paris. I had attempted this journey twice before, never getting much farther than where the RER dropped me off (I have an enormous fear of getting on the wrong bus and winding up in the town where Bart Simpson worked in a winery, having to cede his bed to a donkey.)
Luckily, last Friday was sunny and warm into the early evening, so getting lost enabled me to see a little piece of suburban France that I might not have otherwise seen. All this just goes to show how fast the weather really can change because today is damp and cold cold cold! To top it off, there seems to be a black hole in my room that is slowly gobbling up all things that are near and dear to me. So far, I've lost my watch, hairbrush, and hat. Oh, I really need that hat!

Oh, it's not THAT bad!

School started this week. Registering was really tough, and now the commuting begins. As you probably know, Paris is terribly overcrowded and no one has any manners. They cut you off, walk slowly, stand in the middle of very narrow sidewalks without walking at all. I've adopted a technique that I call "pretend you are at a packed rock show," because it's just like that. I must push and nudge and shove and growl my way through the city if I am to get anywhere when I am supposed to be there. In other news, I absolutely HATE French food, but I have discovered an authentic American diner around the corner from my house and I am going to Scope it out ASAP. If all goes well, I will get to have my first veggie burger in a very long time! Please don't disappoint me, Breakfast in America!

By the way, here's what my home looks like now that I've moved in and messed it up a little bit:

The Arc

Université Paris 3 is affiliated with a school called l'ESIT (école supérieur des interprètes et traducteurs) which i guess I'm sort of taking classes at, though they call me an intern rather than a student. um, okay. That aside, the classrooms of L'ESIT are located at Université Paris Dauphine, which is in the 16th arrondissement, not far from Les Champs Elysées and l'Arc de Triomphe. I just happened to buy my cell phone near there, but didn't see the point of taking a picture of the monument at that point... When I just happened to walk in front of it again, i thought, alright, alright, i'll take a bloody picture!

Unfortunately, I didn't do a very good job of framing myself in front of the Arc, so you'll have to use your imagination.

The Oatmeal Crisis

Oh quick cooking oats, I had to go to three stores to find you, even going so far as to think that we might never meet here in Paris, but I did find you, for a very reasonable 97 euro cents, and you may look disgusting, but I could never make it here without you!

Two weeks later

It's been truly wonderful not to have had to write people about my trials and tribulations struggling to find a home in France's capital, for five days into my stay, i had keys to a 2 week studio sublet in the 3rd arrondissement, a long white narrow room not unlike my Montreal abode, full of ikea trinkets and very few dishes:


Better yet was visiting and getting keys to a similar studio right down the street on day 7, where i will be moving next saturday, and staying in until december:


I just watched 2 nights in Paris, completely relating to the reality of living in a tiny paris studio in a very old building... that said, the thrill of living alone for the first time ever completely makes up for any lack of space. Not to mention that all studio possibilities considered, my domiciles are not that tiny, so i consider myself rather blessed. All that's left now is learning to cook effectively with little more than a mini fridge and a hotplate.