Saturday Snapshot

To participate in the Saturday Snapshot meme post a photo that you (or a friend or family member) have taken then leave a direct link to your post on Alyce's blog At Home With Books. Photos can be old or new, and be of any subject as long as they are clean and appropriate for all eyes to see. how much detail you give in the caption is entirely up to you. Please don't post random photos that you find online.

These pictures come from a while back. After a week of super heavy rainfall up at school, we finally had a nice sunny, rainless day the second to last week we were there. Even though it was April, it was warm and some friends and I decided to make use of the canoes the school has to explore the river. This is a tree that is normally up on dry ground when it hasn't been raining buckets.

Along the way we came across four little ducklings who had escaped from their owners, freshmen who had decided that ducklings were good dorm pets. The other kids had brought them out on the water, but the pull of their natural habitat was too much for the babies and so they jumped ship. We rounded them up and took them back to shore to the worried parents, one of them was my co-captain and sat next to me quacking happily along the whole way back.

This is my little duckling  buddy. We called him Billy after a duckling character  from the musical HONK!

Summer catch up

Hello once again!

Yes it's been ages since I've blogged, and yes plenty of interesting things have happened since that I'll probably promise to write about but then never do. I don't really feel bad about not writing frequently because the only folks who seem to read this are my mother and her friends, and really they're always the first to hear about my life anyway so what's the point.

Well it's a good exercise for me, in memory and emotion and seeing how I've grown as both a person and a writer, and it can be cathartic in a way. So instead of putting myself under deadlines and doing this and that and swearing to write every day or what not, I'm just going to write when I feel it and hopefully not feeling like I have a deadline will get me out of procrastination mode and get me to just really enjoy it.

This summer so many firsts have happened for me. I got fired from my first job that I ever had, five years as a lifeguard at a pool every summer (ironically it was on the same day I planned to go in and quit, but I guess that just proves things work out in the end). It had been stressing me out to work two jobs, and so I'd planned to leave this one in favor of the new one. Speaking of the new one, I got my first job working as a barista in a coffee shop and I'm loving every minute of it. The atmosphere and the people are great. It's so nice not to have to yell at people or make sure they're obeying the rules. Instead I get to inhale the scent of coffee and fresh baked goods and sample a little bit of everything. Plus it's close enough for me to walk or bike from home.

I'm also in a musical this summer, maybe the last one I'll get to do for a while which makes me sad. But hey, life goes on and we all have to grow up. I'll have my day on Broadway or the West End, I'm sure that will come, but for now I have to be satisfied with the opportunities I get for community theatre. So this summer I'll be playing Constance Bonacieux in the Three Musketeers as we try to pull together an original show and I learn music with two weeks left to go. Wish me luck.

Starting tomorrow I'll put up my Saturday Snapshot, and then hopefully things will fall into place. Until then!

Too busy or too lazy?

I come and look at my blog almost every day. I'll stare at it for a few minutes and then remember something that I had to do and so nothing gets written. Lately I have gotten very busy with life, school, and work, and joining a sorority and all, but I always have plenty of free time as well.

So this leads me to the big question in my title. Am I too busy to have a blog that I post regularly in? Or just too lazy? I know I certainly have plenty of things to say, in fact just writing this I thought of an amusing story that I'll probably share right after I post this. If I post this, and if I don't realize I'm late for another Chi O event (whoops!).

When summer comes around, even though I'll likely be working two jobs, I'm going to make it my summer goal to post at least once a week.

Wish me luck!

To tattoo or not to tattoo

It's a feeling of rebellion, of freedom. Everyone experiences it at some point once they've left the nest, the need to express yourself and show the world that you are an adult, but you aren't done having fun yet. This crisis usually manifests itself in a piercing, a tattoo, that one night you get really drunk for the first time, you name it. My rebellious phase has been slow and cautious in showing up, calculating things and making sure the time is right for said phase to show, and I have to say I'm quite grateful because lately, all of my friends seem to be going through this and not all of their decisions are great.

She won't be thrilled with me for writing about this, but one friend of mine who broke up with her boyfriend of a year called me for advice a day or two after the break up. I don't know why, I have no idea what to do when it comes to handling significant others especially ones whom have been part of a life for so long. Anyway, I managed to talk her into remaining calm. She wanted to go out and party and do all of the things she hadn't when she and her ex were together, simply because it was one of the reasons he broke up with her. I thought I'd given very sage words of advice until I checked back in with her on Sunday. The result of her first weekend as a single woman: a tattoo.

Now, the idea has been planted in my mind ever since the summer between high school and college when I went to the state fair with two of my best friends. We got henna done, Emily picked out a geometric pattern, Sarah got a swirl of flowers. I chose a sea turtle swimming through some bubbles and flowers. Ever since that day, I've been hooked on the idea of actually getting a real turtle tattoo.

People always ask me "what's the significance of the turtle?" and my answer is: I really like turtles. When I went to the Bahamas with my science club, I got to see a real live sea turtle up close and personal. I've always had compassion for the endangered species types, and I mean really, who doesn't love turtles? Sure, some of you might think my reasons are a bit immature, but I've been thinking about it for almost two years now, and I keep coming back to that little design.

This is a bad picture of a prototype that my friend Sam hennaed on me earlier this evening. It's just a cute little representation of a turtle, but that would be the general location I would choose. It would be much smaller, maybe only the total size of the shell on this one.

So now I have to decide, do I want to get a tattoo when I go home for spring break? There aren't any tattoo shops anywhere near me, so it's really my only option. Here comes my rebellious streak, peaking slowly around the corner to make sure there aren't any dangers ahead. Do I just go with my gut and spring for it? Or should I take another two years to decide?

Saturday Snapshot

To participate in the Saturday Snapshot meme post a photo that you (or a friend or family member) have taken then leave a direct link to your post on Alyce's blog At Home With Books. Photos can be old or new, and be of any subject as long as they are clean and appropriate for all eyes to see. how much detail you give in the caption is entirely up to you. Please don't post random photos that you find online.

When I was over in Europe, I took a trip to Rome for Thanksgiving. I met up with two friends who were studying abroad in Budapest, Hungary and we took over the Eternal City for five days. On day two, we went to the old Roman forum as the sun was setting. The temple below and winged chariots on top were stunning in the fading light, and I just thought of how many sunsets had touched those columns and winged steeds. Rome is beautiful, in a slightly grittier, louder, and more Italian way than Paris. Well worth the trip

I want a hedgehog

As some of you probably know by now, I am an animal adorer. If it's got a face, two to four legs, and especially if it makes some sort of squeaking or chirping noise, I'm going to love it. And yes, that includes lizards and excludes snakes. Snakes are the stuff of my nightmares, and I'm also not a fan of worms, hence the two to four leg requirement. Fish are different so don't start that argument with me.

Anyway, my roommate decided that college wasn't for her about two weeks into the semester and left me with a room to myself. While I enjoy it most of the time, it can get a bit lonely, especially since I've been sick and confined to my bed for much of the past three weeks. Naturally, my first choice for some company of the non-human variety would be a cat, but those aren't allowed at school. Other people suggest fish, but once again, fish are a completely different story. With the exception of Maurice the dancing fish, owned and much adored by Delana @http://delana-dujour.blogspot.com, you can't really pet or play with a fish.

So I started scrolling the internet for small creatures that the school couldn't protest, especially since I will be moving into my new sorority house next fall where it might actually possible to have a real pet.

Hamster. No, too much like that car commercial.

Guinea pig. Too big, too noisy.

Lizard. Awesome, but not cuddly.

Then it hit me....

Can you get much cuter than those little noses, fuzzy tummies, and little chirpy sounds? Yeah, I'm sure some of you think the spines poking out of their back might be an issue. Actually, they really aren't. When I worked at the local zoo, taking care of and playing with the hedgehogs were part of my job. Once they get used to you and come out of their ball-like defense mechanism, they're playful, snuggly, and shockingly soft. My co-worker and I could sit with our two little charges, Gidget and Gadget, for ages just petting them and feeding them little bits of fruits and veggies.

So, now I want a hedgehog. I would name it Hamish, because how could a hedgehog not be called something like that. They are British for the most part. My mother does not approve, but I'm an adult now and I can do adult things! Like buy a hedgehog after I get enough money.

So who knows, maybe next fall there will be a new addition to my party of one. I'll keep you posted.

Return to the blogosphere

I know, I know. Your reactions are likely the same as my mother's "I'll believe it when I see it."

Well here you are seeing it.

When I last left off I was still in Paris, living the dream despite the last post I left you with was a down one. Now I'm back in the States at university for the second half of sophomore year and I've started working out what I'm going to do with my future.

Classes are planned for the next two years, depending on what my minor is going to turn out to be; the three languages required for my Multi-language/Modern languages major have been selected. French, Italian, and German!

Now all I have to do is decide on my minor. Communications? Economics? European Studies? It's going to be a tough choice. The really good news is either way I get to go back to Europe next year! Back to France in the fall, or off to Austria in the spring.

It all depends on the decisions I make in the coming week, so wish me luck!

Ups and Downs

So today I woke up feeling down. Nowhere near college dorm second semester depressed, but I was not at my best. Despite that, or perhaps because being crippled by depression last year actually taught me something, I got up, got dressed and went down to the brocante. Getting out of the apartment and leaving my French hosts still asleep at 10:30, I just tried to breathe in the crisp air and enjoy the sights and sounds of markets.

Markets are the ultimate loneliness killer because everyone treats you like you've been best friends for ages. Of course, they're all trying to sell you stuff, but I challenge you to live in a foreign country for three months and not get a little lonely for all those American things we take for granted. Like being able to strike up a random conversation with anyone at any time and being completely sure of what you're saying, and that you'll be able to understand your new acquaintance.

Today though, not even all of my market friends and a tresse chocolat (braided pain chocolat with a glaze) lifted my spirits more than marginally. I dashed down for a conversation with the friendly metro worker to reload my Navigo Pass. The magic smiles of others weren't even working for me. The end of my market cheer up plan came when I heard the strains of a familiar song being played by a very familiar sound. Closing my eyes and inhaling the fall scent I could almost feel the crowd around me turn into my classmates, alumni, and other cheering fans. The bleachers would be cold if we sat, so we stand and huddle for warmth as we cheer on the home team. There was a marching band just like the one back in high school.

I could feel the tears trying to leak free right there in the middle of the market, and I knew it was time to call it. Back in the apartment, I woke a slightly disgruntled host to let me back in before he promptly fell back asleep. Slipping through my temporary room and trying not to wake my temporary roommate, I took a book onto the balcony and read. The Ya-Ya Sisterhood is a great book, one of my new favorites, but it's not exactly a fairy tale to help conquer dark thoughts.

Finally, after a few hours more of moping and pestering my mother via Skype with my need for reassuring words, I gave in to her sage advice: "take a book, go to Starbucks and get a mocha."

In our world, a mocha heals everything. I never really understood how true that was until after snagging a seat in the crowded cafe, 'grande mocha blanc' in hand, I could finally feel those dark clouds lifting. It probably helped that I made something of a friend with a student desperately searching for a place to finish a paper and letting him sit at my table. And the Christmas cups and music and decorations in the background probably had something to do with it. Or maybe it was being able to leave the foreign world I live in and just for the next hour or two, be transported to a familiar place not so far from the world I've known since I was born.

Saturday Snapshot

To participate in the Saturday Snapshot meme post a photo that you (or a friend or family member) have taken then leave a direct link to your post on Alyce's blog At Home With Books.Photos can be old or new, and be of any subject as long as they are clean and appropriate for all eyes to see. how much detail you give in the caption is entirely up to you. Please don't post random photos that you find online.

Today, I made a trip out to the Trocadero. If you've ever seen pictures where people are posed to be holding, squishing, the same size as, etc, with the Eiffel Tower, this is where it's taken. It's a crush of humanity, but still pleasant with the pipe music of the Peruvian band that was playing in the background. And of course there was the eclectic mix of those people who think it's amusing to have their picture taken as if squishing a French monument, mostly British and German tourists.

What I liked best about the Trocadero is the pool of fountains below. Unfortunately on this trip I wasn't able to get spectacular photos of the water, I'll have to go back. That and the metro ride there. It's one of the few lines where you aren't underground, instead you float (read: bump) along above Paris, cross the Seine and see the Statue of Liberty, French style.

Magic Smiles

I was going to write a post today about my new home, the location, the people, etc. Then I had a "Stupid French Day" that I was going to write about, complete from the point where I thought I was going to be murdered, to finally making it home and breaking down in tears because somewhere along this stupid French day, the charm broke off my new favorite necklace that I picked up in Aix at a little craft/brocante/antique place, and now I can't find it anywhere.

Somewhere in the tears and frustration, my mind decided it needed chocolate in order to cope, or we just weren't going to be able to handle all of this any more. I gave in and blindly stumbled out of the apartment as it was getting dark in my quest for instant gratification and mood

enhancement drug of choice.

This wasn't the familiar, family oriented arrondisment where you couldn't walk a block without seeing a Carrefour, Fanprix, Lidl, or any other market chain where they sell everything for prices akin to American grocery stores, but everything looks cheaper because it's in euros. This arrondisment is old, and full of students and older folks, not many families to be seen. It has boulangerie after boucherie after vegetable market, but no such thing as a grocery. I guess they have something against those establishments whose names don't end with the requisite "ie".

Finally, I saw a metro station, and descended into the city to buy the Navigo Pass that would help prevent my having another stupid French day. The employee behind the ticket counter

smiled at me. Just smiled, and I couldn't help but smile back even though my world was falling apart and I still had no chocolate, and I was about to spend more money on this stupid pass. Still, that smile made everything look brighter, and once I had my pass in possession, I climbed what I thought was the entrance I had used to get down into the metro.

A grocery. Someone had put a place where they had chocolate at not exorbitant prices, right outside the metro for me. Never mind that I ended up quite a ways away from where I actually wanted to be, there was a sort of mea culpa from Paris, apologizing for the stupid French day. "Yeah, we didn't actually mean that. It was just sorta a test to see how much you really loved me. Here's some chocolate to make up for it."

Chocolate in hand, I started back what I thought was they way home. I ended up walking in the wrong direction, could have carried on that way for ages too, but the very nice old man who was walking his dog very slowly stopped in front of me to give his canine friend a pat. That's when I looked up at the street sign and saw my mistake. I even knew how to correct it. The old man and his dog smiled at me and I smiled back and altered my course.

A light misty rain began to fall and in the dark if I ignored all the French signs and made the voices a hum, it took me back to some of my favorite childhood memories. Going to the ballet with my parents when I must have only been four or five, skipping along in my new dress and asking if they thought the people around us thought that I could be playing Clara in the Nutcracker. That magical night when I saw my first opera, Rigoletto, with my dad and how the wet pavement outside seemed to take on an entirely different look, it sparkled. As I saw the smiling parents and children skipping along the damp streets, it was no longer misting rain, it was sprinkling happy memories.

First Night before every new year with my best friend and our two families, and the snow never stuck but melted on contact with the concrete downtown. Halloweens with friends when it was really too cold and wet to go trick or treating, but we all went anyway and then sipped hot apple cider with cinnamon and had chili when we got back home. Those nights when we went to meet Daddy for dinner at our favorite Chinese restaurant downtown near his office. Going to the ballet, the opera, a musical, with friends and family.

I felt like that child again as I walked through the glittering streets. It was cold enough for everyone to be wrapped in jackets and scarves and hats, but not bitterly so. It erased the stupid French day from my mind, and proved to me once more that everything is better with a magic smile.

November

November.

It marks the beginning of the second full month I've been in France. This experience has been terrifying, horrible, cold, hot, brilliant, stupid, fantastic, amazing, and beautiful. And above all so far completely worth it.

It also marks the beginning of NaNoWriMo which I'm going to participate in. Problem is, I don't have a story, and I don't want to write my own trip to France story because I might actually want to publish it someday. So I'm down a story idea, and we're nine hours and fifteen minutes into November as I write this.

And because when I'm unprepared and unorganized, I'm really unprepared and unorganized, I'm supposed to be attending a costume party on Saturday. Guess what. I don't have a costume. All the shops are closed here today because it's All Saints Day, and yesterday was Monday which means that not all the shops are open. Oh, here's the kicker: not only do I have to find a costume idea by the 5th, it has to start with either M or I.

Moulin Rouge dancer

French Maid

Indian

Irish

Miss America

Marianne

Match

iPod

All of these are suggestions I've received, each one has merit of its own I suppose, but how do I pick and what do I wear? I'm probably stressing out over this more than I should, but that's because I don't want to think about the other thing I really need to be stressing over which is a completely different blog post.

I promise I'll get it together and post pictures and write about my fantastic time in the Alps, and get you up to speed with what's happening now and the hilarious time I've been having with Delana@http://delana-dujour.blogspot.com/>duJour (that's a whole new story that we have to get into). I've decided that November is my month to have a post every day, so get ready for some that are mostly pictures.

Meantime, brainstorm some ideas for me? I need a costume by Saturday and a novel idea by...a week ago.

Ready? GO!

Saturday Snapshot

To participate in the Saturday Snapshot meme post a photo that you (or a friend or family member) have taken then leave a direct link to your post on Alyce's blog At Home With Books.Photos can be old or new, and be of any subject as long as they are clean and appropriate for all eyes to see. how much detail you give in the caption is entirely up to you. Please don't post random photos that you find online.

This week's picture comes from a freezing but beautiful tour of the old French town of Briancon in the Alps. We spent a week here and it was just one fabulous day after another, excepting the day it snowed and we couldn't go anywhere because of the ice. It all melted the next day so it turned out fine. I've never been so at peace and calm in one place for so long, the whole experience was absolutely incredible.

And yet another week of two pictures, because I couldn't pass up this one. This is a view from the front yard of the house in the mountains, which features the beautiful ancient town of Briancon with it's fortifications. If you're ever thinking about a trip to the Alps, I can't recommend this little town enough. It's the most beautiful place I've been to date, and unlike some Parisians (please forgive me and let me back into your town!) everyone I met there was very nice and understanding of language difficulties, and the younger folks were more than willing to try out their English to help you along.

I know I sound like a tourists advertisement, and I have a French market to get to, so I'll wrap it up by telling you that the castle like building you see is the Collegiale cathedrale which doesn't look like much from the outside due to fortifications and such, but inside it is all marble and paintings and colors and gold. Well worth the trip.

Saturday Snapshot

To participate in the Saturday Snapshot meme post a photo that you (or a friend or family member) have taken then leave a direct link to your post on Alyce's blog At Home With Books.Photos can be old or new, and be of any subject as long as they are clean and appropriate for all eyes to see. how much detail you give in the caption is entirely up to you. Please don't post random photos that you find online.

This week was a tough choice. I've been so many places and gotten so many wonderful days worth of shots, it wasn't easy to pick just one. So I decided to narrow it down to two.

They come from the same location, just facing different directions. I probably should have done my research concerning the locks on the bridge by Notre Dame de Paris, but if I had to guess by the names written on them with little hearts I'd say it's something that's supposed to keep couples together forever.

Just across the bridge on the island by Notre Dame, something about the light and water called to me. Water's been calling to me a lot these days, my pictures have been a bit obsessed with it. Anyway, it's a beautiful little boat house/restaurant with an adorable black lab on the deck somewhere, let's call him Waldo, I'll think of a prize if you can find him.

Lazy excuses

I know it's been nearly a week since you've heard from me, and I'm sure it's torn some worlds apart, but don't worry. I'll be gone for yet another week as we head to the Alps and I'm without internet, but all the while I'll be collecting little stories, pictures and tidbits to give you all as a reward for your patience.

Once November hits, my goal is not only to complete NaNoWriMo, but to post in the blog at least once a day. Oh yes, a post a day plus however many words I need to write a story. Got any ideas for me?

Saturday Snapshot

To participate in the Saturday Snapshot meme post a photo that you (or a friend or family member) have taken then leave a direct link to your post on Alyce's blog At Home With Books. Photos can be old or new, and be of any subject as long as they are clean and appropriate for all eyes to see. how much detail you give in the caption is entirely up to you. Please don't post random photos that you find online.

Today's photo comes from yesterday's traipse along the Champs Elysees because it was a beautiful day, and hey, why not. I started at the Arch de Triomphe and meandered my way down the rue, pausing to take a postcard writing break in one of the lovely little parks that litter the way as you approach the Jardins de Tuileries. As I crossed the street to the Place de la Concorde at the end of the way, these fountains caught my eye with their gold detailing against the dark metal. Apparently, this was the fountain that can be seen in the movie The Devil Wears Prada, in the scene where Anne Hathaway's character decides she's done with the fashion industry and tosses her phone into the fountain.

How DVDs have ruined Disney

This doesn't have much to do with France in particular. It's just a plea to bring back for some purposes the trusty old VHS.

Perhaps I'm just prejudiced because I grew up in a VHS household, and some of my best and earliest memories are accompanied by the whirring sound of a tape being played, rewound, or fast-forwarded. It's not that I spent my entire childhood planted in front of the TV watching movies, I was practicing for my future.

With Lumiere I rehearsed the kickline from Beauty and the Beast in that eternal classic song, "Be Our Guest". About twelve years later, there I was onstage doing it. Michael Flatley and my little brother had tap-off show downs during Riverdance and Lord of the Dance. I learned my love of Celtic music, singing, and dancing from those same shows. The Tin Soldier convinced me that I wanted to be a ballerina. Without The Snow Queen, I never would have learned to perfect my icy glare when I performed the title role, forcing my father to guess who I was before I would say hello to him when he came home from work.

But back to the original purpose of the story.

Yesterday in lieu of wandering off to visit the wonderful sites of Paris, I was asked to keep watch over the three-year-old daughter of my host family. What's the best way to entertain children? Disney.

She selected that old classic Bambi. I myself have never been a huge fan, the mother dies, humans are horrible to animals, there's fire, and death, and it just doesn't seem like a kids movie. Anyway, she chose it so we popped in the DVD, she also selected the English version so bonus points for her and more difficulty tuning it out for me. The movie rolled along like it should, perhaps with slightly better picture and less fuzzy sound, Bambi's mother got shot and the little girl turned around to explain it to me in French. Just in case I didn't get the gist just from watching, or the fact that it was the English version.

Still bumping along, I'd managed to hold back my tears and I'm still proud of myself. Then came the climax of the movie, young adult Bambi runs away from the hunters and has just heroically saved love interest Faline from a pack of hunting dogs. He runs, jumps a ravine and we hear the bang of a gun as he spasms in midair and then falls unable to stand on the other side of the ravine. At this point, the DVD froze and then took us back to the main menu. Worst place ever to freeze, now this poor little girl thinks Bambi is dead! She won't know the ending! I tried to go fix it, but the little girl just stood up and walked away, humming a song to herself. When I asked if she wanted to see the end, she just gave me a look that told me I was crazy, though that might have been due to my poor attempts at French.

So as far as I can tell, this child thinks that the movie ends with Bambi getting shot by hunters. Bang, he's dead, end of story. While I'm sure it's much more realistic, since when has classic Disney been realistic? I'm disturbed by this outcome and it just proves that we should all go back to VHS. They could never take you back to the menu to make you think it was the beginning, you have to rewind it, and you'd fee the film wasn't run out, and you'd know there was more of the story to be had once your dad got home and fixed it.

And just to prove my point about Disney not being realistic, I give you this.

The Disney photo had to be doctored color-wise to make it fit.

Musee de Cluny

Three days ago, I took a trip to the Musee de Cluny. My goal was to find a cross stitch tapestry that I could do, and it was a trip that had been put off for several days. The day before I'd been sent to the Musee d'Orsay with the grandmother of my host family. It was a lovely museum, but the Impressionists exhibit was closed and therefore, I didn't get to see what I really wanted to. There will be a post coming about that later.

So to the middle ages museum I went. I'm a big fan of all things to do with the middle ages in case you didn't know, King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table and all that jazz. Also, I promised my youngest brother that I would get him a sword and it seemed like the most likely place to get one.

Musee de Cluny is in an old medieval castle that's been somewhat rehabilitated for use. It's probably the coolest old building I've seen in a while except for Mont St. Michel. As a museum, it doesn't have the grandeur and gilt of the Musee d'Orsay or the Louvre, but the stonework in the courtyard alone is probably more intricate than anything on either of those buildings. What really shocked me the most about all of the art and sculpture in this museum was the sheer amount of detail that everything had. Even the tiniest image on a medallion had a complete face and detailed outfit.

I'm not entirely sure what that is, but it blew me away with the sheer amount of detail. To give you a sense of scale, the entire thing from base to highest turret is only about the size of an average wine glass. Every roof tile, every window is drawn in exquisite detail. It's like a church sculpted on top of a cup. It reminded me a bit of Mont St. Michel, although I'm sure many other churches have such a level of intricacy and pointed spires.

Another thing I noticed about the middle ages based on the things displayed in the museum was this: unicorns are everywhere.

In every tapestry, every large sculpture or group painting, I guarantee if you look hard enough, there's a unicorn. The Musee de Cluny is of course the home of the famous tapestry Lady with a Unicorn which I discovered is actually part of a series of tapestries that depict women with unicorns. There was even an actual "unicorn horn" on display, with a description below explaining that it was actually just the tusk of a narwhal that had been given to some king sometime long ago and called a unicorn horn. Still, it was very impressive.

There were also chambers that housed stained glass windows taken from various churches and castles around Paris. Dark rooms with the windows lined up and backlit, spilling their multi-colored pictures onto the floor. Saints, kings, hunts, animals, more unicorns, all are the various subjects depicted in the vibrant windows. The detail in these windows too is absolutely incredible.

The whole museum in itself only took about an hour and a half to get through, and the gift shop didn't have my tapestry. It did have a sword for my brother, but as much as I love him I'm not willing to spend the 111 euros it would take, plus awkward questions in custums, to bring it home. Sorry bud, maybe next time.

Saturday Snapshot

To participate in the Saturday Snapshot meme post a photo that you (or a friend or family member) have taken then leave a direct link to your post on Alyce's blog At Home With Books. photos can be old or new, and be of any subject as long as they are clean and appropriate for all eyes to see. how much detail you give in the caption is entirely up to you. Please don't post random photos that you find online.

This past Wednesday I took a trip to the Musee d'Orsay. Afterwards, I walked to the nearby bridge over the Seine to take a few photos. I don't know what I like about this particular picture so much, but something about how the clouds and the river and the towers of Notre Dame are visible in the background catches my attention.

The Myth of "Free" Wifi

When it became certain that I would be heading to Paris, the first thing that I immediately wanted to know was: will there be wifi? I'm something of an internet junkie, but keeping in touch with my family via facebook, skype, and twitter, and of course the writing of this blog, were all important factors. Therefore I felt reassured when I looked on several sites back home and was assured by all that wifi would be everywhere and free with the purchase of a coffee or pastry, something that I would buy anyway.

Ladies and gentlemen, after a day searching the Louvre Carousel, I can now tell you that this it a lie. If truly free wifi exists in Paris, I've yet to find it and in such a place as this, rife with cafes and shops and a popular tourist attraction lacks it, then where on earth are we expected to find it?

I started my mission from the apartment early this morning. Computed packed with the cord and adapter just in case battery power ran low. Complicated metro stops later I was beneath the Louvre in the underground shopping center/miniature Paris with its many restaurants, cafes, boutiques and gift shops. Starbucks was my first choice and the sign in the window advertising free wifi seemed promising so I bought breakfast and a coffee to get me started. The barista handed me a card with a username and password in order to fetch the wifi. Three cards later, my computer and the wifi network were still having none of each other. So instead I sat with the paperback I thought to bring ahead while I finished my muffin and coffee.

A comfy padded bench in the middle of an underground sort of museum looked like a fantastic place to situate myself two hours later after I'd given up on my old standby for good. A plethora of free networks presented themselves to me and none required a password. Overjoyed, I tried connecting to the first only to be taken to a page that declared it would need my credit card number. Not happening. So I flipped to the next one which took me to another page that cheerfully stated in bright bold lettering that I needed to put in a username and password that could be purchased from a nearby restaurant. Great.

Five attempts at connecting and countless more tries at hacking into a network later, I gave up until a familiar glowing yellow sign caught my eye.

McDonalds. It was one o'clock, I'd been traversing the Louvre Carousel searching for wifi for a long time and the muffin of the morning seemed so far away. I'd sworn to myself I wouldn't stoop to eating in McDonalds while I was surrounded by so many fantastic little cafes, but I'm an American at heart and by this time was desperate. So I mounted the escalator and the first thing I saw was the little card standing by the cash register: wifi gratuit. Free wifi.

A chicken wrap is sitting comfortably in my stomach as I sit in one of the incredibly more stylish than the American version seats, connected to free wifi as I write this. And all I had to do was enter my name and email. And for the record, French McDonalds tastes better than the American version.

A Wonderful Day

Today, I had a wonderful day.

That's right, I spent my day at the Louvre.

It started with taking the metro from my host family's apartment. There are two metro stations within close walking distance, one required only one transfer but was much harder to get to with the twisty turny streets of Pairs, so I chose the much more straightforward way from the house, but difficult metro routes. Two transfers later, I was at the Louvre.

I traipsed blindly through the Rochefort wing, looking for the few works I knew would be hidden away somewhere in the immensity that is the old palace. For three hours, I was surrounded by statues, the works of French painters and medieval carvings and illuminations. It was all very beautiful, but the smell of coffee and the lunch hour drew me away from the beauty.

Let me just say that to an American girl who spent the summer becoming addicted to coffee, Starbucks is almost as good as any work of art. That melusine/mermaid logo starts to look like an angel if a system used to a caffeine fix hasn't had any since the plane ride over to Europe more than a week ago. So one white mocha and a sandwich later, I was rejuvenated and ready to hit the galleries again.

Winged Victory is one of my favorite sculptures, perhaps my favorite though its not like I have extensive knowledge on art of any kind. Maybe it's the way they have it positioned, it's the largest piece of art in a sparsely decorated grand room located just at the top of a staircase and directly between two others. It is absolutely magnificent and I was lucky enough to get a clear picture of it as seen above.

A helpful security guard later, I was standing in front of my second favorite statue, the Venus de Milo. For something so famous, it was in a room shockingly crowded with other pieces and not so many tourists. Either that or I just got really lucky that hardly anyone was there because I was able to get another really clear and uncrowded picture.

Leonardo DaVinci might be the most famous Italian artist, but my heart belongs to another. Oh I made the walk by of the Mona Lisa, but I didn't wait in the line to see her up close, I snapped a photo from afar. No, in my opinion the best Italian artist of the Renaissance was Alessandro Boticelli. His settings, his colors, his models and poses, and just everything about his art makes me happy. I absolutely adore La Primavera, though sadly it and most of his works are in Italy. Still, the Louvre does have another of his paintings that I spent time getting acquainted with.

Venus and the Three Graces

After the Mona Lisa, I was tired and ready to see some sunshine. Stopping once more at the Starbucks, I got an iced version of my earlier mocha and headed to the Tuileries. Just a small side note: those grates in the ground? Yeah, they blow air out of them. I wasn't aware of that until I walked over one and my skirt did a Marilyn Monroe much to the appreciation of the construction workers nearby. Thank goodness for leggings.

The Tuileries were absolutely amazing, and though I've only ever been to Paris before in the spring, I've decided that fall is the best time to come out of those two seasons. The changing colors of the leaves, the late blooming roses and other flowers, birds chirping their last songs before winter, incomparable.

So that was my fantastic day. I'm nursing sore feet and a new, though significantly smaller blister than the last one, but it was all worth it.