For Your Viewing Pleasure

As I'm sure you have figured out blogging and I just don't mix. At least not while in Paris. So what I cannot give you in words I will show you in video. We wanted to show all the lovely places we go in Paris on a daily basis. So, as Bradlea perfectly put, we decided to of course do it in the most obnoxious way possible. Please enjoy! I'm the tall awkward one with the black eye who doesn't know how to dance to pop music. Just in case you couldn't tell ;)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9TimJEuwiY0&feature=share 

Avocats and Avocats

Oops. Sorry, I forgot about this thing. Well no I didn't because I think I have received an email from a mother everyday telling me to post, but hey, give me a break. I'm in Paris! But where to begin...it has been about a month since my last confession. Wait, no blog post, sorry. I have gone to LE CORDON BLEU. Yup, the most famous cooking school in the world! You know the one Julia Child went to, that's the one. I have also had a a fantastic visit from my brother and almost sister-in-law. It was amazing. You can read all about it in his more frequently updated blog http://nothingbutsheep.wordpress.com/

Yes, yes he is the better child it's true. He writes long blogs and puts up pretty pictures. I...well I just ain't got the best of memories. And probably slight ADD. With that said I will try to recount the last month and a bit of my life in grand ole Paris. Oh yeah, Le Cordon bleu. It was so, so amazing. I had this tiny little french chef that looked like he came right out of every French chef stereotype ever made. He lived in Australia for 15 years so the few times he spoke English he had a very strange australian/Parisian accent. We made the most amazing, amazing food that I took lots of pictures of with this families camera with the promise that they would email them to me...still no email :( Never trust those damn Americans. But I do have pictures of the inside of the building, so I'll give you that!

That's it! The fantastic Le Cordon Bleu. Ooooh, ooooh second thing, Loire Valley! I went there! For the whole weekend! All expenses paid! We went to stay in chateau! How amazing is that? We went on tours of amazing Chateaus and it was about 70 degrees and we walked through gardens and eat a picnic on the banks of the Loire river. Well Eli, Bradlea, Hannah, Brittney and I went and had lunch there since everyone went to a restaurant. And Eli and I took our shoes off and ran around in the water and I dug for clams and actually found them! Dinner! No, actually dinner was in a cave. I kid you not. It was delicious food and wine and just beautiful! After dining in the cave we got back on our bus and drove home to see our chateau. We pulled up, the sun was setting, the chateau was glowing, the river ran through the backyard, each student was led with their roommate to their lovely room within the cahteau, and then they called the names of me and my friends and it was like heaven as they led the eight of us to the stables. Wait, what? No chateau for us? Nope, me and the people that live in Cite U with me were to sleep in the stables. I could not make this shit up if I tried. Ahem, pardon my french. But back to the stables. No we did not sleep on piles of hay but in actual beds. But there were tree branches coming through the walls. But it was actually totally fun having all of us together hanging out. The next morning we were given a huge all you can eat breakfast and went off to more chateaus and a wine tasting! It was just so much fun to be out together on the perfect weekend and lay in the grass and eat ice cream and being near water. And I took pictures! But since I have uploaded those last ones the internet has decided to suck as always, which means it takes an hour for each picture to upload. And I just realized it's 2:22 in the morning. So I will post something else before the week is over. I promise. With pictures and sentences that make sense. I'm sorry I'm a sucky blogger moms! But see this just means I'll have more stories for ya'll when I get home! 

OH, wait the title. Fun whyihatefrench fact: Avocat means avocado. No surprise there. However, it also means lawyer. So I could accidently order a roll of lawyer or ask for a nice ripe leathery skinned fruit to represent me when I'm eventually arrested for god knows what. Peace

Le Marché aux Puces

The most amazing thing I've done since I've been here, I woke up early on a Sunday. Yup, you heard it here, I, Madison O'Leary, woke up early. On a weekend. Of my own free will. Don't worry I'm not completely changed, I've tried this the last four possible days (Saturdays and Sundays) and failed and slept until 11:40...oddly exactly 11:40 each time. But this is not the point. I woke up early on this lovely Sunday morning in Paris, France to go to a flea market or un marché aux puces. It was fantastic. There was a little stand with earrings made of found antique little bits for only a euro each. I walked around for two hours watching the old french men with their grand white mustaches and their little caps examining fish and tiny old women with their heads wrapped in scarves pointing out exactly which fetal pig they wanted for dinner. Since this is an older market, most of the people working there had been there for a while so they were not the annoying, creepy guys from the other more modern markets I've seen. They were sweet and nice and seem to genuinely love what they are doing. I could have spent the entire day there. There was even a man playing traditional french music on an accordion to make the experience complete. I would tell you more, but second surprising event, not only did I wake up early, I remembered my camera and I took pictures.

The beginning of the food section of the market. It got busier as the food got better.

The jewelery stand where I got some of the antique one euro earrings :)

He stole an old lady's wallet. Paris takes it's crime very seriously.

So many Parisians just go here for their Sunday dinner. They take a paper bag, through a roast chicken in, and then fill it with those potatoes.

The very friendly fish man.

It's clearly a very complicated picture that needs a very long explanation...

This woman ran to use the bathroom and left her daughter in charge. She drove a hard bargain.

More veggies.

One of the many tiny little old ladies.

Lots and lots 'o' oranges.

That big ugly overpass goes all the way around Paris so you know exactly when you are going to leave the city. It gets pretty ugly on the other side so I stayed with my market.

I just had to stop and get a pastry on my way home. Friggin' fantastic.

On This, The Day of Your Birth

So it's not so much that I forgot that I had a blog I had to write on, but that I am living in Paris and the weather has changed from freezing. It is as if any of the doubts or hesitations I had about being here have left with the cold. Again, aren't I just so damn poetic? It is truly magical here. Now I understand all the movies and stories of love that are based here. It is the city that you love. The different Arrondissements all fade so smoothly into one another yet each have their own distinct style and feel. Each day I feel more comfortable walking around and taking the metro, and straying farther and farther from what I know. I do, however, really, really suck at remembering my camera. And even if I do remember it, I always forget to take it out and use it. I'm always so caught up in the beauty of everything, or the fast pace of everything, that I am not thinking of pictures. It is also my secret plan to only give you a few pictures throughout the semester, but continue my breathtakingly beautiful writing so that you get so curious you will all come and visit so that I can drag you around myself. It's a good idea, no? I thought so.
So what have I been up to since I last posted. Oh so much. I've been to Parisian bars, the oldest flea market in Paris, the oldest University in Paris (and the world) and oh hey I take classes there, booked a trip to Nice, gone on a million walks, gone to the Shakespeare and Company bookstore (heaven), made a whole bunch o' friends, spoke some french, ate some fantastic french cheese, ate some fantastic french pastries, drank some fantastic french wine, learned some stuff, and wore jeans without tights underneath (yay!). So basically it's been a pretty fabulous February, or fevrier (with an accent over the e) as the french call it. I love it here. Ya'll should come visit.
Now, let me say some quick words about my Sorbonne professor. Madame Sophie Jehiel is...well...just a tad bit crazy. She is a tiny little french woman (she is of Korean dissent and wanted us to know that she has never been), about five feet tall, finds herself hysterically funny, hates non-french speakers, and finds our struggles even funnier than her own humor. She wears an outfit that matches right down to her rings. She wears the same outfit Monday through Wednesday and a new one Thursday and Friday. I cannot stress enough how much she matches, I wish I could take a picture of each outfit, they get me through my total confusion everyday.
So I promise that I will post more. And I really do promise to start taking more pictures. I am finally comfortable enough to use technology in public without fear that it will be stolen.
And on a final note, I would like to wish a wonderfully happy birthday to my wonderfully happy mother Laura. I love you!!! (It's still your birthday in Boston)

As Woody Allen said,

"Paris in the morning is beautiful
Paris in the afternoon is charming
Paris in the evening is enchanting
But Paris after midnight is MAGIC"

Neige, Sang, et Substance Gluante

This morning it snowed. Now, if possible, it is even more beautiful here!
There is something poetic about leaving a part of myself in Paris, is there not? Well not when it is actually, literally, a piece of me. When I was showering this morning I decided that it would be a good idea not to fully adapt to the Parisian ways and shave my legs. However, when I was doing this the lights decided to turn off because you have to wave your hands around to keep them on. This resulted in a chunk of my ankle washing "poetically" down the drain. 
But on the upside I got a lightsaber spoon in my cereal.
I started Sorbonne today...A kid from China was lost and we tried to find the class together, neither speaking french or the others language. It was interesting. My class was interesting. I think she told us something. I'm not sure, it was all in a different language. Weird. I'm a little overwhelmed but giving it until Monday to feel anything. Mostly because my brain is to my Sorbonne classroom as my chunk of ankle is to the shower. It's gone down a drain filled with other people's hair. In other news I had to give my GIANT jar of Nutella to my friend and tell her not to give it to me until Saturday because I've already eaten half of it...in a day and half...I'm like a bottomless Nutella filled pit that can't be stopped by mere mortals. It's like Laura says about ice cream, there is always room because it just fills in the cracks in your stomach. I have this image of me, Brittney knocked out, shoveling my hidden chocolate, hazelnut, magical goo into my mouth. I am loving Paris. Just so you know. Yes you. No not you, that guy behind you reading over your shoulder. But seriously I can take the Metro, tell people in french that I have no idea what they're saying, eat french food at the local places that I know to be good, walk with people I know, and have no remorse when I knock a little old lady out of my way. Just kidding that hasn't happen. Yet.
But none of this matters. Because I won a cheese basket in a raffle.

Pictures and Bruges!

 So I got my camera cord! However it takes about 10 minutes to upload each photo onto the blog. Oh well. So these are some of the pictures I have taken in my lovely Paris.

 The Louvre is a pretty classy place, no?

This one's for you, Katherine! It was on the bust tour so now I'm determined to find it.

I felt at home.

These guys were everywhere! Security was very tight when someone important was there doing something important.

Because in Paris, when the traffic gets bad, we just use the sidewalks.

Oh hey, what's that?

Look very closely...

These are all photos from Bruges, Belgium. I spent all of Saturday there with CEA. It was amazing. I really, really love it there and would love to go back even though I'm not usually one for small towns. It took us much longer than it was supposed to, but I didn't mind because I brought my book and was able to finish it on the train ride. When we got there it was -12 C. This temperature just makes the fact the world is ending official. But more importantly I ate the best soup I've ever had. When we finally arrived in Bruges we were taken to the only Brewery that is still standing. It was fantastic! We were given this vegetable soup that had this buttery, salty, delicious broth. The most perfect bread to soak it up, and a beer that was brewed in that property. After we had an entree of Potatoes and vegetables and more butter soaked things that was also to die for. To finish up this FREE meal we were given Belgian chocolate mousse. I would have been happy with the trip to just go home right there and then. But instead we walked around and ate more, saw beautiful things, and all and all had a wonderful day in Bruges. We also went on to eat waffles with chocolate, hot chocolate, and the best french fries with "Taartars" sauce. It was nice to be able to order everything in English.

This is for you Dev! (and Becca and Craig)

Little boat houses on the frozen river.

My friend Eli (Elly) who is from Texas so doesn't get snow so often :)

The home of Snow White. Or so we have decided to tell people

Just because it was there...I mean I couldn't not take a picture.

I had the truffle second from the left. Oh my God.

The center of Bruges.

 Brittney was still hungry after our lunch :)

Me, Brittney and Eli in the center of Bruges

The view from a bridge. It was really breathtaking, this picture doesn't do it justice.

This is not Bruges. This is the view from my window this morning. Snow in Paris. It can be pretty perfect here sometimes.

Bumbling Americain!

Yesterday was not my finest day as a frenchie. I am ashamed to say that I did not eat delicious bread, cheese, wine, or pastries, no I ate three bags of Bugles de Fromage (yes they have them here too, only they have added cheese) and six, yes six, brownies. And they weren't even fresh brownies from the boulangerie down the street. I ate six brownies from the vending machine. In my defense I am sick with a horrible cold. And the brownies come in packs of three and though they tried, I was never able to truly take the teachings of will power--that Frog and Toad taught me--to heart. Oh wait. I almost forgot the best food aspect of yesterday. I got into a can of pineapple. Without a can opener. I personally have never had a moment where I was filled with such pride. It was just my bare hands, the can, and a butter knife that will never be the same. I have giant purple welt on my wrist from when I finally got through and my unmatchable force sent my arm smashing into the side of the can. Canned pineapple has never, and probably will never again, taste so sweet. That was the most excitement of Sunday. I watched Julie & Julia while I ate my pineapple because my need for cooking is slightly overwhelming and our kitchen smells like someone died in it...last semester. Saturday night was much more fun. I will just say we went to a bar (my first time ever being able to drink in a bar) and I went a little crazy. I mean one whole drink to myself, Paris has clearly turned me into some sort of hooligan. A side note. I am glad I am tall. No I am glad I am smart and choose to wear comfortable boots out instead of every other girl I was with who wore heels. One set literally had spikes coming out of the heels that she impaled her feet on multiple times. When will girls my age learn. Comfort is far better than holes in your feet.
Another side note. When they warn of all the things not to do here, such as not to get in random cars, not to go home with someone you don't know, not to split up, not to walk around by yourself at 4 in the morning when you are a girl, not talk to some guy on the street, etc. I always think that people don't understand that we've all watched Taken. That we are adults, you trust us to live in Paris, you must know that we have better judgment than that you don't have to tell us this over and over and give us a three hour lecture on it for the love of God! Well apparently I am wrong in every way. They DO need to go over these things, though even when they do it seems pointless. Five girls went out together. One ended up losing her friends while trying to get them a taxi, going home alone and buying a new key for her room only to find she had left hers in the door. Another ended up walking around Paris by herself until the trains started running again at 5:30. And I believe three ended up separating from each other and all going home with random guys to their hotels. Not even to do anything just to go there to sleep because they didn't want to walk. Dear God I hope no one from this program finds this blog. They are all fine. I just would think common sense would stop you from getting into any of those situations.
Today, still sick, I decided to take a walk by myself and explore. I just stayed in the 14th, but walked for two hours. Sadly this was not on purpose, but because I forgot that I am supposed to buy a new metro pass because the week pass ended Sunday night. Consequently the tram car doors closed on my head. I got so flustered by its rejection of my card that, though I could have stayed on it and probably would not have been caught, I tried to step off of it backwards and didn't realize the doors were closing and got one on each of my temples. It was painful. More because everyone on the tram watched me as I sulked away down the sidewalk. But I'm glad this embarrassment took place because it made me walk. I loved the fresh air and it did make everything feel better, my head and oddly my cold. I found a big grocery store and mostly just looked around but got a mug for me tea, which I was drinking out of a bowl that was much to shallow to do any real good. When I checked out a went down the wrong line, had to climb over a little metal divider, dropped my stuff in the process (luckily I didn't break the mug) got stuck in between the metal divider and a stroller for long enough that it got awkward, dropped my key, and couldn't bag my stuff before the man who was next in line had already sent his stuff through, mixing the two together. Hence the title of this post. I stopped at my little old lady boulangerie. She is sweet. There is a really fancy one across the street that everyone goes to and the people speak some English, but I go to the one with the better bread that no one goes to and the woman is so sweet, and speaks not a word of English, but we have a nice little relationship. It was only my second time there but she remembered me. She's very patient with my french and speaks slow enough for me to understand and gestures a lot if I don't. She also claps and smiles whenever I say something new in french. I'm going to go to her every time. On my way back my temples were throbbing, my ears were stingy from the cold, I could no longer successfully bend my fingers, it felt like someone was resting a two ton freezer on my lungs, and my knees were starting to do that thing they do in the cold, but I still kept smiling to myself, which I'm sure just furthered the now city wide suspicion that I am daft.
That's all for now. Who reads things this long anymore anywho? 

Je suis une noix de coco, pas une pêche!

So I wrote a very long, very brilliant blog yesterday but pressed the wrong damn button and now you will never have the honor of reading the gems I call my thoughts. You would have laughed, you would have cried, let us just say it would have truly changed your life. But alas...it won't.

So the lesson of the day is, or was since this was the topic of yesterday:
Americans=Peaches
Parisians=Coconuts
In order to understand the cultural differences between us Americans and the frenchies we were given two examples.
One: When children are playing on the jungle gym and they fall down and get hurt American parents pick them up, wipe their tears, tell them they are going to be okay and that they should try again. Parisian parents say one thing, "Tu n'ecoutez jamais!" "You never listen!"
Two: Americans are very outgoing. They have a soft shell, they talk to the people next to them in line for their coffee and get easily hurt (or bruised like a peach) when people are mean to them in any way. Plus we all smile. Americans are loud and seem to have nothing to hide. Parisians are like coconuts. They have a hard shell. They let no one in, they keep their thoughts to themselves. They don't smile. They bump heads, but it does not get under their skin. But once you get to know them they have a sweet and watery center that tastes much better if you add some sugar and toast them until they are a beautiful golden brown. Oh wait no that can't be right. That must be actual coconuts. It's true up until the sweet in the center part. I have decided that I am not a Parisian, but I am a hell of a lot more of a coconut than a peach.
The second part of yesterday was a three hour bus tour of Paris. Needles to say it was gorgeous, but of course I still have no way of getting my pictures up. One day you will all (all being the 3 of you that there are) see the beauty that I see. One day I will have the connecty cord. There is not much to say about it without the pictures, but it felt like I was in Paris more then it has before.
This morning I felt very proud when a man was watching the five girls I was with on the train, sizing them up, or more likely sizing up what might be in their pockets. He didn't even look at me. My coconut attitude was totally paying off. But then one of the girls asked me a question and of course I answered in English. My cover was blown. I saw him gesture to a man right behind me who started "accidentally" poking me in the ribs to feel if I had any good loot. Right before his stop he reached into my pocket to grab whatever he could. Yup. He reached right in and took my stuff. Luckily I have been taught how to act on the train and had everything in my bag with the exception of a business card I was meaning to throw away anyways. So thank you Mr. Pickpocket man. I hope he recycled it.

The rest of the day I learned about the Sorbonne, took a french placement test, lost my feet when they fell off after refusing to walk any further, and cooked myself the poor man's Turkish Lentil Soup. Only three ingredients. I ate it with a baguette. A delicious french baguette.

Now before I get tooo boring I will tell you one last thing. I have done something wonderful. I have signed up for something on March 17th that I believe will be a most fantastic day in Paris. Hopefully I will still be writing this blog by then so you can find out what it is.

Les Filous et Les Fleurs

I think today was the day that I realized I am in Paris. In case any of you were wondering where I had gone. It was another day of orientation. The first half of the day we learned about crime in Paris. So that was super fun. When we went out for lunch I was completely paranoid and thought that everything was going to be stolen from me, myself included. But it was not the case. The case was in fact I know more french than I expected. I successfully ordered my lunch and an orange juice all by myself. I know whoever is reading this right now is just gushing with pride. My french professor from UMass, Katelyn, is simply a miracle worker. I could hear her voice in my head when I got my food and told the women on the street that I did not want to sign their forms. Though I think I told them I didn't want to sign their posters, but they got the point and left me alone. We got an hour and half for lunch so after getting my Pizza fromage et jus d'orange I went, along with five others, to Cathédrale Notre Dame de Paris. It was awesome. I mean that in the truest sense of the word. I stole my friend's iphone and took a few pictures so that I could upload them today (still have to wait a week for my connecting cord). Now if I could only figure out what I had to do to put them up that would be magnifique! All around Notre Dame were women selling beautiful flowers. I wish I had taken a picture of that. 

After lunch we went back to the gorgeous CEA campus for a fair of sorts. I got a cell phone which is oh so exciting. And we were able to rent almost everything we need from the CEA campus. I got a sharp knife, a tiny pot, a frying pan, a bowl, plate, fork, spoon, and glass. All of the other girls signed up for blow-dryers and hair straighteners. Only slightly different priorities. Mine, of course, is food as it always is.

I walked for hours today so I am slightly exhausted. Also because I am still not used to sleeping and I continued to wake up in the middle of the night, look at my watch, and try to convert the time to Paris. Only problem with that is that my watch is set to Paris time...I don't think very well when I am half asleep and trying to think in a different language ;) But today was fantastic. I have met some really cool people, one of which is staying with a host family, speaks fluent french, and is totally my kind of person. Wine and Nutella for dinner on the terrace. What could be better than that. 

Okay, now let's see if I can get les photos onto this damn blog.

A small part of the door to the outside of the CEA courtyard. 

The boulangerie I had lunch at. 

Yes that is a vial of honey slowly draining into the center of the pastry.

This is where the mayors office is. Where there was a 75 year-old man ice skating with a helmet on.

You have to love Paris when you see things like that.

And those are the only pictures I can figure out how to post. 

Nothing but sheep was already taken.

So my plan was not to write a blog...clearly that didn't happen. Then my plan was to have the title of my blog go off of Devin's, but I was going to have mine be bread and be half French half English. "Nothing But Pain" but that doesn't really describe the situation I am in. In fact it is the opposite! More importantly that title was already taken from emo user258.
So I am in Paris! I am loving Paris! I am writing a blog! What does this all mean? Well it means that all the instructions for writing said blog are in french, a language that I can confidently say two sentences in without looking them up. "Je suis un petit pamplemousse!" and "Je ne veux pas manger le vilo ou le stylo!" Meaning "I am a tiny grapefruit!" and "I do not want to eat bikes or pens!" neither of which come in very handy for figuring out how to blog. However both are extremely helpful to me in the streets of Paris. So this blog will not be nearly as witty or intellectually stimulating as my dear brother Devin's is. And let's face it it won't always be grammatically correct. But it will be me. Or as much of me as I can fit onto this page that I think is where I am supposed to type my first post. I may just be giving myself a very, very long name.
P.s. Until I can find a cord to get my pictures from my camera to my computer.