Lucky Frogs

So I attempted to see Annelies this weekend in Brussels yesterday (Saturday). I woke up early and to take the metro to the train station and after waiting in the wrong line and than the correct line found that the Eurostar is expensive. Yes I was warned if this from Sarah before hand but I am the type that needs to discover it myself. But now I know how to get to the train station so not all is lost! I had my favorite lovely leather back pack prepared for the trip with a baguette, bread, water, two bananas, an apple, a bottle of wine I meant to give to Annelies as a thank you for having me and three yogurts (sweet Valerie, the nanny, bought me three different kinds of soy yogurt! Plain, berry and chocolate, the chocolate is DELISOUS, the berry is gritty and the plain is… plain… its tastes like soy... but gritty and not so good. I was ecstatic when she showed me them when she returned from the Monoprix (supermarket). I had mentioned a week or so ago that I have a slight allergy to dairy and these past few weeks of eating loads of delicious yogurt, cheese and muesli with milk has taken a toll on my throat, giving me a lot of phlegm… ew yes. But what a thoughtful thing from her! She got like 42949037 billion points for that).

So I was rather prepared for the day and ventured to Paris to meet Sophie, my lady Sibel’s husband’s daughter. We met at the Arc de Triumph (not a good first meeting place as there are thousands of people there on Saturday) and meandered the streets of Paris. We made it to the opera house and sat on the stairs and shared my various foods. Than we continued our walk and found ourselves in a park, an ally way street thing that was filled with people and interesting shops. Than we found ourselves at the Louvre. We walked through the park and decided to have a picnic at the Eifel Tower. We went to a shop at got some Camembert cheese, two apples and a small dainty mug for the wine. Oh yes and a bottle opener which will remain in my bag to rescue me from those annoying moments when a bottle opener cannot be found… oh yes and for protection (wink wink). We stayed at the Eifel Tower till it was glowing its blue lights and called my Swedish ladies to rendez-vous and find some bars.

The night scene is very different and now I understand the stress that is created because of the dog like behavior of the European men. I cannot count the number of them who bothered us if we stood still too long in a place. What we couldn’t understand is why they do it. Logically if you are a gentleman and don’t go in for the attack you will be a lot more lucky with your numbers if you know what I mean. Leave something to be desired please.

We found the metro to take it to meet our other ladies at a place called Café Oz. We learned a very good lesson in the metro station; Caroline did not have a ticket and it was very busy so we figured she could just follow close behind me when I went through – yes cheat the metro station as everyone else does and I see everyday get away with jumping over the gate and not getting caught. Well yes we picked the wrong station to do this and we were caught by a bitter short fat lady and we had to pitch in on the 50 dollar fine or they would call the police… So after so tears of stress we pulled ourselves together and continued our night. Caroline found an ATM and paid us back. She called her mother who gave some consoling words. We found Josephine and Eda talking to two French ladies who hoped to get us in and their group of French boys without paying the annoying 10 dollar cover charge. But this failed and we left with the Frenchies to the Bastille district. We wandered a packed ally way of drunks and PDAers (public displays of affection). There are a lot of very attractive couples in France who will continue the breeding of beautiful French children.

Sophie and I became irritated at the length of time it was taking to find a decent club to go into. So we slipped away from the group for a bit and entered a cramped bar for some whiskey shots and a beer. The oh so nice and attractive bar tender gave us two extra shots (the two shots and two beers was 14 euros… ick.. tres cher as they say). Sophie says this is the way they say “oh your cute”.

After a bit we called the group and found them at a nice place and enjoyed some more shots and a beer. We talked in French about where we live, my four children and their behavior and various other topics. They were very nice and when we were finally kicked out at 2 am we exchanged numbers with the French ladies!

Sophie and I took a bus to her apartment. A very cute and typical French apartment, she shared a bedroom with her roommate who had left for the weekend to Nancy to see a friend so I got to sleep in a bed that was more my size. The bedroom itself is big enough for a full bed but two twin beds are side by side nice and snug. We awoke at 12 in the afternoon and enjoyed some coffee while chatting, surfing the internet on facebook, blogspot and other websites. Around three I returned to Saint Germaine and ordered a crepe with nuttella from a jolly old man who had a stand in an island in the street. Oh it was GOOD to say the least.

Overall the day with Sophie has left me feeling revived and refreshed. I am not alone in feeling homesick in a different way. Homesick for the friends I had and social activities that went on. I miss our gatherings at various homes and apartments. We shared stories of outings and everyday activities. Sophie misses dunken donuts and being able to enjoy a warm one at 2 am when they are just delivering the batches. I miss being able to buy good beer and share nights with my girls and guys. Knowing your way around a town and a night out not costing over 50 dollars (yes just in that one day I spent over 50 euros… during my metro ride back home it occurred to me and oh I had a big sinking feeling… that can’t be a recurring thing especially when I only make 80 euros a week. But yes thank you for 2 euros bottles of nasty vinegar wine… just kidding I will not sink that low.) There is guilt for missing home here. Because I am in Paris. Holy mother of Jesus I am in freaking Paris man. Why am I trying to get away from here and travel so much? I forget how young I am sometimes and the immense amount of time I still have to look forward to. Enjoy this habitat of lushness and flavor. Learn this place, its ins and outs. That feeling that I had been missin’ this time is returning. That overwhelming joy I had for every microscopic thing. In one night I met some French people and I will continue to push to meet everyone I possibly can from this point till I leave.

I have to mention. I have been constantly hungry since I have been here. The Swedish girls said they found themselves that way too. Maybe because my body is in a new place and it says “OH SHIT EAT! Load some layers, SURVIVAL OF THE FATEST”… that is my idea. Because it doesn’t know what’s going on? Oh but the crackers, I have been chowing down on the kids snack crackers that they get after school. They are called petit beurre – little butters. The baguette is amazing. The sound (have you seen Ratatouille? Caitlin I know you have. The lady describes the baguette very well here. Yes Sophie and I have been cultured from a cartoon about a rat chef). The yogurt is divine. The cheese and home made meals. No kidding my mouth has cuts and sores from all that I have been eating (good thing it’s the fastest healing part in our bodies besides our eyes). Or maybe the French really don’t eat that much? And I pig out till my belly has reached its full extent. Try the grapes; even they are so rich with flavor I can’t stop with just one.

I am very happy that I have come to live with a family that has its fridge and cupboards overflowing with goodness at my appetites disposal. Take that Nick! Now who’s the big eater huh?

Oh I love my life. I am excited to see what I will miss the most when I leave.

ok so I am learning to use this silly bloggerMCStupidSpot thing. the pictures are out of order. deal.

Annie