January . . . yuck

The holidays are over and my least favorite month is here. Oh January, could there be a worse month? To make it worse, my semester did not end before winter break, so I only have tests, papers, and cold, rainy days to look forward to until spring. At least I have my memories from winter break to keep me warm.

I went home for two weeks, and what a wonderful two weeks it was. Mom taught me a few knew stitches, and I knitted up a storm. The family and I spent a lot of time playing games, putting together puzzles, cooking, watching movies and relaxing. Rachel and I busted out the instruments a few times for a jam session (don't really think it can be applied to classical music. . . perhaps it was a clam session). Mom even joined us with her cello one day.

As for gatherings, I celebrated with the Cramers the day I arrived. In all of my jet lagged glory, I managed to pull it together and enjoy the day. Christmas day was spent with the Heads. We debunked tradition and celebrated with a salad theme. I needed a salad since my absence had stripped me of all defenses when faced with my mom's wonderful cooking. Even with the salad, I believe I managed to put on 5 pounds in two weeks. Ohh carmel corn, you will be the death of me. Christmas eve, Rachel and I spent the evening with our parents and Mom made her traditional clam chowder. To top it all off, we had a beautiful white Christmas. Snow in the country is just so much prettier than snow in Paris.

I saw a few friends while back in town. My friend from Guthrie Center, Mandi, and I spent an evening with our moms. For New Year's eve, my friend Chris organized a party for several members of our graduating class. To my surprise, Chris and I were the only ones not married or engaged. This is simply a statement of fact. I'm not looking to change that status any time soon. :)

I have a conference call for an mysterious internship on Monday. Hopefully I will have details about my plans for next fall earlier than I anticipated.

First soccer . . erm, football match?

I was invited to tag along to a soccer match between Paris St. Germain and le Mans by my French buddy Edouard at the beginning of December; it was . . . cold. I had fun, although I doubt I'll repeat the experience any time soon. Paris won 3-1.

The French buddy system was set up through the Center for the Americas, and I was assigned two buddies. Edouard is really great about inviting me to various events. The other gets nervous when he sees me in the hall (he's a bit younger), so we avoid contact as much as possible.

Here the guys are preparing for the match. I don't know if you can qualify McDonalds fare as sustenance, but they seemed to be re-energized by the experience.
Maxine, Alexandre, Samir & Hannah (David's American buddy)


Here I am bundled up for the match. Brrr!


David, Sylvain & Edouard (my French buddy)

You gotta love a guy in glasses . . .

How could anyone prefer Fred Astaire to Gene Kelly? Honestly?



I love this scene with Fred Astaire and Cyd Charisse, but Cyd totally steals the scene. I don't know of anyone who managed to steal a scene when Gene Kelly was dancing.



To be fair, we'll even compare the two dancing with the same woman.



Can I just add I love Gene Kelly's glasses? I just love a guy in glasses.

Random thoughts . . .

. . . on working:
I've come to the conclusion that my intentions to work this evening are completely futile. I'm babysitting, so at least it's a restful evening. I'm afraid of getting worn down and falling ill just as I head back to the US. Victoria fell asleep 15 minutes after I arrived, so it's been a peaceful few hours of reflection (and chatting with Stephanie).

. . . on hot chocolate and Christmas decorations:
I went for coffee with a friend today. I love how coffee can turn into a three hour event in Paris. Of course, I think I managed to have a few two-hour coffees in Iowa City. I had a steaming hot chocolate, which was just what I needed on a miserable rainy day such as today. Afterward, we wandered about enjoying the department store Christmas decorations and trying not to get trampled by the mob swarming outside of Printemps and Galeries Lafayette.

. . . on plans for the future:
Many of the conversations I have these days focus on making career plans for the future, more precisely the uncertainty and anxiety that accompanies this grueling process. I've decided to stop worrying; it may be easier said than done.

. . . on blatant generalizations about dating:
I am concerned that my perceptions of the opposite sex have been warped by my encounters with the French. French guys don't hold back when it comes to feelings. If anything they express feelings they don't even have, just to have something to express. If a French guy is interested in you, it's usually quite clear. Other nationalities do not necessarily share this approach. They might actually take the time to get to know you (what a novel idea) before making any sort of move; unfortunately, my experiences with the French have conditioned me to think that if a guy doesn't overtly hit on you in the first 24 hours, you must be meant to remain friends. Additionally, any perception I may have had of nuance or subtlety has been completely lost.

A tale of two cities

Of course, my perception of New York is not quite as romantic as that of Woody Allen's, but I can see how Gershwin's music encapsulates the throbbing pace of the city.

The following trailer for the film Paris by Klapisch (director of L'Auberge Espagnol) is a rather accurate representation for how I see Paris right now. Spring in Paris is another story, but right now it's gray, rainy and quite depressing.

For those of you who thought all I did was study . . .

Stephanie, Elizabeth & Sarah in the Bastille area (the night I defended both Stephanie's AND Matteo's honor)

my "projet co" group for the Model UN simulations; party at Spencer's

It looks serious, but we were actually discussing the mystery of the missing scenes in the French version of Beauty and the Beast.

Stephanie, Ingunn, Judith, Elizabeth & Sarah (I was in full-on homeless mode at this point. I was lucky enough to borrow Stephanie's sweater to avoid being seen in the same outfit 3 days in a row.)
Elizabeth, Matteo & Stephanie.

Floriane, Sarah, Emilie & Gaelle at the BCBG party organized by the Sciences Po BDE

Emilie and I try not to laugh in this photo as the boy to the left trys to dance at us.

Babysat a cabbage patch kid

Wednesday night I had my first paid babysitting engagement since the age of 17. My landlords had me watch their one-year old daughter, Victoria, who bears and eerie resemblance to the Cabbage Patch Kid shown above. It was the easiest babysitting job of my life.

I showed up at 8. The landlords live on the first floor of my building, so transportation wasn't an issue. They showed me the ropes, she and I hung our for half an hour, and then it was her bedtime. She'd already been fed, bathed and put in her pajamas. I spent the rest of the evening doing homework in the living room except for the one time when she cried and I changed her diaper. Between Victoria and my tutoring kids, I've really lucked out in terms of dealing with nice, easy-going kids.