I'm in Paris

So exhausted right now, as I write this, September 16th @ 9:05 pm, Paris (noon in California). Flying to Paris via Boston is the worst of all airline travel worlds. I left Berkeley at 5:00 AM and STILL flew a red eye.

Before I left, I had a small party on Saturday. It was fun. Some people came. I invited people that I haven't seen since before I started Wesleyan. None of those people came, which is understandable. I want to re-connect, but I think a party invitation is not the best way to do that. It's almost kind of jerky.

On Sunday, my dad came for diner. He was having some sort of bike problems, which have undoubtedly been resolved by now. He's on the road again after doing some temp work on micro controllers for flash ROM. His controller is highly programmable and thus is in the new Apple Nano Ipod thingee. Awesome. Sadly, this does not translate into free ipods for him or his family.

On Monday, I took the GREs. Thank god for espresso. I was really burnt at the end and don't really remember my score, but I have a guess of what I think it might have been, but I may be inflating my score. Anyway, jumped through that hoop, so now I can apply for PhD/DMA anyplace. It's so stupid. All those tests really ask is how well you do on standardized tests. If anyone wants to know how well I handle grad school, they could, I dunno, look at my transcripts from Wesleyan. I already have an MA, so having to take the GRE is just stupid. Also, I noticed the questions started hard and got easier, which is not a good sign. But I don't think my knowledge of antonyms has much bearing on composition, but with Text Sound Poetry, one never knows.

On Tuesday, after a fun-filled day of needless panic, Cola and I went to dinner with some of the folks from my French class, including Rudy, Marisa and Paulina. Vachemont Chouette!

On Wednesday, I finally got around to packing and stuff. Cola and I had dinner with Mitch. It is so sad to leave Mitchy and know I won't be back for months and months. I hope he comes to visit. After he said goodbye, I went to sleep at midnight.

On Thursday, I woke up at 4:00 AM, double checked everything, (but still forgot my binaural microphones) and got on a bus to SFO airport. By the time I got to the front of the check-in line, I already had blisters from my hard suitcase, which was packed with gear. Bah, what was I thinking?

On Friday, I got into Paris at like 7:00 AM and took the RER to the Metro. In Gare du Nord, I found a luggage cart to put under my 50 lbs suitcase. (Bah, what was I thinking? There's a sticker on it that says "bag status: suspicious." Don't people normally take monitor speakers with them on trips?) Oh dear, I was the quintessential horrible tourist on the metro, trying to carry more than I could possibly handle. I have no idea why I didn't take a cab.

I got to my apartment pretty early, but none of the units are numbered and I didn't know my number anyway. I found somebody to ask. she asked for some sort of name, so I answered slowly in my ten-weeks-of-french-class way (translated into english for your benefit), "My name is C H. My, um, 'landlord' are, um, is called F M." My french teacher would have been impressed by my complete sentences and use of correct grammar, but this woman was making "get on with it" hand signals.

What do you want after 4 hours of sleep?

Lugged my 100+ lbs of luggage up the stairs and then collapsed in sleep. Around 5:00, Cola and I emerged and went to a grocery store and bought inadequate grocery supplies. I found soy yogurt (which I recognized from the French TV ads which my teacher recorded and showed to us one day in class), but no soy milk. I think I might have spotted tofu, but I dunno. Cola hates tofu anyway.

There are bike lanes all over the place around here. Tomorrow, I'm going to post this and register with the police department for a residency card and hopefully buy a bike soon.

Oh, the apartment is really super. It's palatial by Paris standards, as far as I know. Has a stereo which sounds pretty good and nice wood furniture. There's a copy of French or Foe in one of the bookcases. In the bathroom, there is a bidet. How does one make use of said appliance? None of my neighbors are running wireless networks of the sort that my mac can recognize. Alas. I dunno if wifi is the same in Europe and in the US. I brought my own airport thingee anyway, but I dunno if I have DSL. I don't think so. I don't know how to order it. My landlord might have to do it as phone service is in his name.

Back hurts. Want to sleep. In 34 minutes is an acceptable sleep time.

Aaaand, Saturday, as I sit in internet cafe, I've got email: somebody posted a comment someplace on this blog, I don't know which post:

Please stop. You know homosexuality is wrong but you use many mother examples of discrimination to justify the very sick act of homosexuality. Since the dawn of time it has never been ok but now we have it shoved down our throates. Please stop. You know it is not right. Please, for the sake of the modern world.

Woot, I can bring about the end of the modern world via blogging. Maybe at least crush capitalism.

But first, I must determine how to get DSL or whatever and where to go to get my identity card.

Tag: Celesteh