Shakespeare and Co. and the Kindle

Right on Broadway across from NYU is a bookstore called Shakespeare and Co. I was a regular during my days at NYU because it was indie, conveniently located and because someone who worked there had a collage of actor Gael Garcia Bernal's clippings collaged behind the counter. The Shakespeare and Co. bookstore is a Paris original located just across the street from Notre Dame. It's one of those old cramped bookstores you can barely move in, it's crammed full of bottlenecks, books and Americans and I doubt there's a place in Paris that feels more New York than that space. I arrived to watch a couple older guys taking pictures of the store front and inside a younger guy was asking some basic how do I get around Paris questions - the kind you would, as a tourist only ask a fellow sympathetic compatriot - while Ingrid Michealson played in the background- can you get more New York, I mean really.

I don't think I have any girlfriends who don't relish an hour in a used/new bookstore. Now that I have a kindle, I buy less books in the flesh, but the experience of perusing is still as tactile and comforting. I love my kindle but there are two things I noticed that could be considered flaws- and perhaps I just haven't worked out how to manage them, but here we go, one it doesn't tell you page your on, it tells you what percentage of the book you've read but for book groups and whatnot when you want to refer to a particular passage I havent found a way to go straight to that page/passage- Im sure there might be a way, but it isn't entirely obvious as of yet. And two, every time I read a good book I want to share it with someone. I generally pass on books once and leave them to the new owner to hold on to them or pass them on, so I don't really mind if like the Barnes and Noble e-reader the nook, I was only able to pass it on once, but not being able to pass it on at all, is a bummer. There is also one more thing that bugs me about my kindle, being abroad I have to pay 1.99 more to download them- I could be wrong but that's just 2 more bucks in Amazon's pocket- it can't actually cost $2 more to send it France then to anywhere in the 50 states. I didn't get a kindle to save money on buying hardcover books, I bought it in order to get books in English while living abroad and because I was looking at a foreseeable future of nomadic life it sure did lighten my load. Overall, excellent buy for my lifestyle but I think Kindle is going to have to compete with the nook in allowing you to share your books with at least one other friend, and figure out a way to show how much you've read along with what page your reading...

When it comes to electronics I am not all that interested in e-devices that allow you to take photos, make phone calls access internet and listen to your music. I think that Kindle has got a market hold having been around for a while they are a step ahead at ironing out any kinks and troubleshooting consumer preferences but they have to streamline their product to consumers needs because anything Apple i whatever is going to rake in consumers because of brand loyalty and social stature- Apple is the Nike of electronics. I love my blackberry and would never switch to an IPhone because it meets the needs I want it to meet, but there are plenty of people out there who like flash.

Singing Starbucks Praises

There is often little to find charming about taking a coffee at Starbucks. Before I left New York I went to Barnes and Nobles to read and often had a coffee to justify my reading books and magazines I had no intention of buying. I noticed that unlike during the surge of Starbucks popularity however many years ago, when their coffee slogs steamed giant vats of skinny milk and pumped serving after serving of espresso grounds into scoops Starbucks baristas were now sticking a cardboard coffee cup on a ledge and pressing a button similar to what they do at McDonald's when you order a medium coke. I also noticed my cardboard coffee cup felt lighter and when I opened the lid to add sugar there was hardly anything in there. Bummer, those expensive coffees were overpriced but at least they were American style super-sized. Today, at least in the States you get a European sized coffee in an oversized cardboard cup.

But not so in Paris. I never dreamed it possible, but in Paris, Starbucks is where you go for cheap, ahem, yes, I said it, I meant it, cheap coffee. Or should I say inexpensive? When Rebecca and I met we had a coffee at Starbucks instead of going to the typical Parisian cafes that sell coffee for 5 euros in a coffee cup the size of a double espresso. At Starbucks you paid the same 2.80e but you got three times as much. And unlike in America, they're still making in the old style fashion by hand- no button pressing which means my cup felt heavy and the foamy milk was pushing out through the drinking whole.

It's not that I want a huge coffee, I don't need a huge coffee, but I value the value- half the price for three times the size. Does it tickle me a little that Starbucks is as popular in Paris as it is in America, well, a little. Remember when I wrote about the American Valentine's cynics- it seems even here the Parisians bear no burden by camping out at Starbucks and enjoying a corporate coffee. The French, ugh, gotta love em.

La Sorbonne

Since I haven't started working yet, I've given myself the daily task of leaving the house at some point during the day beyond the laundry, the groceries or the laps around the track I jog at near our apartment. It only counts if I take the metro. Yesterday I remembered that I wanted to see La Sorbonne and so I announced to Sylvain that would be my destination for today. I almost studied abroad twice in Paris, once my third trimester at DePaul before transferring and Smith's Paris exchange program was at La Sorbonne. My French teacher at DePaul whose name I always almost remember but never do was formidable, I met my best friend Amanda, there in French class and together we participated in all the French activities the French department sponsored mainly because of Mme so and so, whose American husband was my philosophy professor. I loved French at DePaul almost as much as I lacked motivation for it at Smith. So when it came to studying abroad it was easier to pass by La Sorbonne and move on to Goldsmiths College in London. A decision I most certainly have no regrets about.

University is different here than it is in the states and it's not just because the buildings are imposing and seem imbued with intimidating minds and ideas. Student's don't board in dorms as they do in the states and their are no campus' just serious buildings with historical clout. I take issue with more or less most of the American University System and it's money making (as opposed to mind making) values, but I do think that along with teaching students how to develop original ideas and to think for themselves, college years ought to have some support for social growth as well. It's hard to wrap your head around 4 years of University living in the same room you grew up, having mom do your laundry and even if your parents disregard what time you come home with, or perhaps who you come home with- there is something creepy about both sides of that equation. University should be the first time you live on your own and I support freshman year dorm life.

Its equally hard to separate sports being a part of campus life. Although DePaul was a city campus and our basketball games and football games were held beyond the confines of our main campus, I visited our sports facilities a few times every week to swim. Even at Smith without a football team, I found myself either at the gym playing indoor soccer or watching friends compete against the seven sisters. I suppose it isn't a coincidence we're leading the medal count at the Olympics right now. Admittedly we're a little overzealous when it comes to these things, but 4 years at University ought to offer students a well-rounded experience which includes our lives outside of the classroom; bridging our high school lives at home with our parents to our independent lives as adults supported by dorm life which amounts to a lot of live in study buddies and some sports and social clubs.

La Sorbonne would have been amazing to experience, I imagined the classrooms with character and seriousness, similar to those at Smith where education felt important and meaningful. The neighborhood is chalk full of bookstores for the literary minded and just down the street is Ecole de Medicin.

The Metro in Paris

The Paris metro is great, rarely crowded, fast, reliable, and as far as I can tell no construction issues, delaying lines or necessitating schedule changes. But of course, there is always something... City planning in New York made life easier for it's residents and it's tourists, with everything on a grid and laid out by numbered streets and avenues, it's idiot proof. It makes traveling on the subway a piece of cake if you can remember that after 23rd is north of 14th, and 7th east of 8th. Still if you want to find out the fastest route from one place to another the website hopstop.com makes things really easy, put in your starting point, address, subway stop or location i.e. JFK, and your destination and it maps it out for you, gives you time walking and time in transportation and you can also check how much a taxi would cost you instead of public transport, it's all easy to read and totally straightforward. In Paris they have the RATP, which works 50% of the time which makes it presque inutile- almost useless. You can also put in the address the metro station or the location, but more often than not it tells you more info is needed- sometimes it's just asking for the arrondissement but after putting that in it can still fail to find your location asking for more info but not specifying what kind. Conveniently they website is available in English but sadly I'm not sure what more information I can add once I've entered a standard street address. Moreover the Paris Metro map is insane- it is impossible to read, and the "interactive map" online at RATP is unnecessarily complicated and just plain confusing. If you cut 14 different pieces of string in different colors mashed them up in your hand and then flattened them on a piece of paper you'd have the Paris metro. I'm still a huge fan of the Paris Metro, I'm just saying, get a guy who knows how to make ain idiot proof, facile website, and if you have 6 Rue de Saint Pierre's, it's time to start renaming some streets. I suggest Rue 1, Rue 2, Rue 3 for starters.

Weekends away

Something has recently come to a point of contention between Sylvain and I. We had planned on going to London for my birthday weekend, having lived in London for a few years I was eager to introduce him to friends, show him around, eat curry, drink lager and visit the Tate Modern. He too was eager to go on a few trips, "Come on Babe, we are YOUNG!" he likes to say. But I spent three years in London where I had plenty of time to travel the continent, a few days in Florence, a few days in Amsterdam, a trip around Germany and Austria, several trips to Spain etc etc. I feel like, as far as Europe goes, all you do is visit a big city and drink and eat, but big cities are all the same, and I've ticked all the major museums. I am sad to say this, but a weekend away in a city I've already been to holds about zero interest for me. If it is to visit friends, I can muster up some zeal, but we could just as easily save 300 euro and have a coffee and a meal out in Paris.

In the last few years my Passport has gotten a serious workout and I've been to Africa twice, Europe, Asia and South America on some pretty big trips. I don't know if it's my age, or the fact that as a teacher I've always felt like I worked hard throughout the semester to deserve a week in Istanbul. Im sorry, but leaving friday night and coming back sunday afternoon for what amounts to a lot of travel time and very little time to experience anything but jet lag and travel exhaustion sounds more like a waste of money than fun. If you gave me a weeks vacation, I wouldn't stay in Paris, I'd definitely leave, but call me a debbie downer if you want, I just can't work myself into any desire to leave the country for a weekend.

It isn't just the short duration and excessive travel time that rubs me the wrong way; the cost is a huge deterrent for me. We're going to Lyon next weekend and my ticket alone is 166 euro. If it wasn't for his birthday and my first opportunity to meet his parents I would think this was simply nutty, but this is just a two hour trip, not even leaving the country. Now if we had to pay for a hostel and all our meals out, as well as the cost of participating in any nightlife activities, and I could probably fly home to New York for the weekend. The truth is, after living your life in the hustle and bustle of city, a weekend away is most attractive when its a respite from the noise and activity. Visiting my parent's and my aunt loretta has always offered me this quiet. No plans, no dates, no expectations. You can cook in a big well-equipped kitchen, borrow a canine companion, you can jog on a path that really is nature, not just a park adjacent to the west side highway, you can sit out on the porch and simply sit back and enjoy. One of our reasons for staying in Europe was how easy it would be to travel abroad, but what I really want now, isn't a weekend in Berlin, it's a weekend in a familiar bed in a quiet town with a well-stocked kitchen.

The young Smithies

There was a meeting of the 2nd generation Smithies today and I realized how much living in another country necessitates re-learning or re-orientating yourself to even the most basic knowledge one naturally absorbs from simply living. The first Smith Assembly meeting a couple weeks ago, I made sure I asked some basic questions- what exactly does Bio mean on packaging- there is a whole brand in green packaging called Bio, and everyone throws around bio here- does it mean organic, does it mean additive free, does it mean anything, is it just marketing? But learning how the post office works, figuring out how to buy a mobile phone and not get screwed by buying something overpriced or unnecessary simply because you don't understand the options because frankly these things work differently here, renting a flat, getting your metro pass, and finding a job or getting your paperwork to live and work here are all things that most people find they need some support with.

I have found that Sylvain's friends are warm, welcoming and as likable as my own, but there is something to having an American friend, or a girlfriend that can't be adopted from someone else's brood. So while I frankly don't know any of the Smithie girls well enough to unload anything heavy on, they have been a godsend for practicalities- while all our French friends were telling us I could become president, the Smithies here had been here long enough to know how to navigate through the French bullshit and get what I need without getting screwed- and as much as I hate hearing that I can't be a teacher here, it's nice to hear someone tell me the truth- actually no, all those Frenchies telling you you'll find a teaching job are wrong, you're not EU so you can't.

Last night I met one of Sylvain's pals from Lyon, who respectfully challenged me about whether I could work here, I think he was simply worried I would take Sylvain away from France, using this as an excuse, but the truth is France has a very backward system and whenever our French friends discover how silly it is, they assume England would have the same system- they don't and I doubt anyone does, but they acknowledge, that, yes, it doesn't seem in anyone's best interest to carry on doing things this way. It's a blessing to have some American's who have gone through it all themselves, they know where the dead ends are, and instead of telling me to go chasing after the impossible, they offer advice on what is possible.

Making babies

While I was at NYU I had to do some student teaching, I decided to work with my Professor who worked at Allen Stevenson a private boys school in the Upper East Side. It was, and probably still is the most expensive k-9 boys school in NYC. I had met a woman in one of my classes at NYU who taught at Spence, and her experience there was strikingly similar to some of the student issues I had working in some of the most struggling public schools in the Lower East Side. She dealt mostly with girls who had eating disorders- a problem that was simply an epidemic, while my schools problems often had different symptoms the causes were often quite similar. My students' parents were absentee or working so many jobs that they often couldn't provide the sort of encouragement and support that their children thrived with, and the girls at Spence had parent's who worked long hours and didn't exactly become parents to make dinner and tend to the children, they had important jobs and provided their children with the best of everything but themselves.

So I wanted to compliment my dire public school experience with a window into another world, a world with just as many issue and the only access I had to this milieu was through that of teacher. The teachers at any school like Allen Stevenson all say the same thing- rarely do you find a teacher who has the same background as these kids and therefore when we get treated like hired help it comes as an affront. It's not as simple as the children are spoiled, it's that they grow up believing that we are paid to clean up their messes, that's after all our job. While most would find this an outrage, most of us teachers could see that these boys lacked something that most of us had in some form or other- parent's that were around, that cared, that were present and involved. These boys were picked up by a long line of nannies that arrived at 3:15 to gather their brood. Their nannies fed them a snack, dinner and often bathed them. They brought them to school and generally met their emotional and physical needs. We had parent's who were famous movie directors, singers, fashion designers and their kids spent their school vacations in China and skiing in the Alps, nanny in tow of course. For boys they often did not have the masculine confidence that boys in public school do, in classes of only ten, half of them vied for attention and the other half were sort of weak and sad, they were all geeky and scared. Some had never taken the subway, and many did not leave their neighborhoods, they had the same misconceptions of New York as foreigners did, that beyond the limits of the UES you might get shot, or worse- either way, they knew they were not equipped with the survival skills to survive and prosper outside of their bubble of wealth.

Paris is full of wealthy people but being a nanny is maybe even more of a norm than in the states. Before moving to France I knew that workers got something like 6 weeks of vacation every year. As a teacher this hardly meant much because so do I, but it was a significant shift in American mentality where we often live to work instead of work to live. I pitied Americans whom were such workaholics that they would amass these ridiculous hoards of money, buy lots of "toys" and then when it came to enjoying their wealth they couldn't sit still and relax. They had issues like high blood pressure, problems with their weight, and unlike the French, they don't know how to appreciate a long meal and good conversation. But then I got here and I realized that everyone works massively long hours. Sylvain works from 9-730, thus with his commute he ends up having a 12 hour day. All of the nanny jobs I've applied or interviewed for reflect a similar schedule- so it begs me to ask- how do any of these people know their kids- the only time they'd have a chance to see them is on the weekends and school holidays. I don't care how long your vacation is, I think there is something wonky about not sharing a meal with your kids- after all why did you have them if it was just to offer room and board?

I'm not so idealistic I expect every family to share dinner together every night, but if not dinner, then something. I spent a few hours with a nanny yesterday who said, Oh the mother usually likes to read them their bedtime stories, but she doesn't go in for the cooking, getting them ready, feeding them or their baths and all that stuff. When did motherhood get whittled down to a ten minute bedtime story and a few kisses coming and going?

The French do V-Day

It may not strike you immediately but over time you would start to notice that everyone in Paris is wearing black. Every season no matter what is happening in fashion, for Paris, black remains the new black. I've always been quite colorful, so colorful in fact that I won the Coco Chanel award back in the 6th grade for my colorful ensembles and I accepted that award with blue tights, a white jean skirt and a multi-colored patterned blouse that together all said "loud". I guess those 6th grade teachers were only relying on Coco Chanel's status in the fashion world and not in her French DNA which adheres to the strict: black is the new black ethos. For the French it seems from what Sylvain has told me, black is classy, it will always be classy and you can never go wrong with being classy and thus wrap yourself in black and get the added benefits of it being slimming.

On valentine's day we were walking to the grocery store to get food as Sylvain was going to make me lunch. I was surprised to see man after man walking around the streets with flowers. With all the sobering black and adherence to classiness I frankly thought France was way too cool for Valentine's Day. I mean, in America is there any holiday that gets more flack for it's cheesiness and general low-rent status? It's corny, it's cliche and apparently the French soak it up. Last year for Valentine's day I got a stuffed bear with a fake plastic rose in a plastic see-through box from a student, the thought was nice, it really was, as a teacher in the Bronx all our gifts are from the dollar store, and it feels great to be remembered but come on, yuck. So after lunch when we were headed to meet up with friends of ours I was shocked to see that handfuls of women were carrying similar items, roses in plastic boxes- the roses were real, but France had let me down. Paris you're cheesy!

It's hard to figure out what to make of it. I guess everyone thinks of France and the French as terribly romantic, and to be honest most French people do seem to be in relationships, but I can't figure out how all these French people bought into all this cliche American garbage. I mean if you want to celebrate Valentine's Day, by all means go crazy, but cheesy red roses in boxes, that's seriously lame. I think the French are like men who secretly love cheesy American romantic comedies. At a party they'll pull out all the intellectual and philosophical stops, they'll impress you with their classy black outfits looking slim and stylish, they'll be well-versed in culture and dirty jokes but when it comes down to it, they relish in the cheese and make no apologies for it. Unlike American's who participate begrudgingly going out of their way to hate on love, girls who host scary movie nights with other single girlfriends, boys who refuse to indulge their girlfriends on principal, and general cynics.

If I've learned one thing from being with a Frenchman it's that American's do it all wrong. From a young age we have all this hype about dating, and thus there is all this pressure built around rejection, the men and boys bear the brunt of this rejection but the girls suffer it's side effect too. It makes for good drama in the movies, but it makes for unrealized high expectations in life. Europeans don't ask each other out, they meet, they hang out together and at the end of the night, whatever happens happens, no pressure, no expectations, and no wondering whose paying for the drinks. I think Americans are messed up about love, there are so many of us that are single and lonely and desperate and if only we lived in a society where we were free to just stop analyzing the what ifs and the what does it all mean, we might just find ourselves spending less time dissecting the minutiae of text messages and facebook posts with whomever will listen and more time checking plus one on our social invitations.

Valentine's Day is overblown, even more than Christmas I think, it has lost the plot. For me, I wanted to do something nice for Sylvain and I wanted him to do something nice for me. I wanted to be good to each other, to appreciate each other. But being cynical about it is sad, feeling like if you're single your a loser is missing the point, having expectations is setting yourself up for disappointment. Someday, one day it'd be great if Sylvain brought some daisies home to brighten our house, but not on Valentine's day, not because "that's what you do", it's so much better to have a surprise, a gift when it's the least expected.

Valentine's Day weekend

It's been cold here in Paris and yesterday Sylvain and I met up with the couple, Nat and Julie, that introduced us. We met in St. Michel and then found a place to have a drink. On the menu were various coffees, beers and soda. Prices were 4.50 for cappuccino hot chocolate or tea, 4.10 for a 33ml soda and about 4.10 euro for a half pint of beer. Alcohol drinks are taxed almost 20% vs other drinks which get taxed around 5%. I complained to Nat about this who said it was shocking for him too, when he first moved to Paris from Strasbourg where a coffee as around 1 euro, but now he had gotten used to it, and I would too. However, I don't want to get used to paying the same amount for a tiny little coffee or half-pint that I would for about 2500 calories at McDonalds. Starbucks in Paris is the cheapest coffee around, which frankly, is sad. I never eat at McDonald's but there is something inherently wrong here- I could buy two boxes of tea for what it costs to buy a small cup in a Parisian cafe. And let's be real here, I drink tea everyday, but it's hardly more than hot water and electricity costs aren't that high.

Everyone at the table then began to look for clues as to how this was possible- perhaps the rents were so high that they had to charge these rates? There must, after all, be a reason for this kind of violation. I was not buying this flimsy excuse. These are the same people that lived in New York and use this excuse to wrongly proclaim New York more expensive than Paris. Real estate in Manhattan may be higher than in Paris but it depends on several factors. For example if you live in Brooklyn or Queens you'll pay significantly less than in the area of Manhattan we all lived in. My good friend Jenna just left a one bedroom on the upper-west side that she paid $2000 a month for and was a few blocks from the train and the park. Both Nat and Julie's apartment and ours in Paris are priced at about $1000 for a studio. It would be difficult to find a studio apartment for $1000 in Manhattan but you could easily find a 2 bedroom for $2000, and in Queens I have friends who have a larger apartment than I have ever lived in for something like $1500. So maybe real estate in New York is higher, but it depends. Location as always, is everything.

In the end the metro/subway is cheaper although it's much faster in Paris. Eating out is significantly cheaper in New York which is hardly surprising because no one in New York cooks more than they eat out or order in. Moreover because the dollar is so poor against the Euro everything else is cheaper in New York too.

But there are seriously interesting rebates in France, for example we knew that Sylvain could get a 250 euro rebate on any rent he pays as a student, but yesterday Julie and Nat told us he could get more back because I live with him. France gives you money for every kid you have and yesterday at a nanny interview I found out the woman I was interviewing with who was due to give birth in April would have from today Feb 15th until Oct 1st off for maternity leave, this being her 4th child I believe she accrued more time, but still- isn't it 6 weeks in the states?

Deciding where we will eventually live will never come down to what's the best deal, there are way too many more important factors that we have to consider regarding our jobs, our languages and quality of life standards. But as the debate volleys back and forth it gets more interesting every day. Yesterday after the interview I had, we caught the train home when two girls boarded, Sylvain clocked them as American and then asked me why we had such amazingly white teeth. Apparently their perfect teeth gave them away? He theorized perhaps it had something to do with our meat... Someone recently suggested London as neutral territory, which now made me pause- after all the teeth in Britain are a serious deterrent. Around the continent of Europe the British teeth stand alone as crooked and bad. The French, or at least the ones I know have perfectly nice teeth except for the occasional discoloration due to their diet of coffee and cigarettes, but they're all straight and shapely. So I had to ask, if we lived in London could we still get our future kids the dental plan in France? Albeit, no.

Tang Freres, The American Church of Paris and La Tour Eiffel

I made these petit announces for english tutoring and baby sitting so I was planning on going to the American Church of Paris and the American Library conveniently located a few minutes from each other. The American Church of Paris wanted to charge 25 euro for each announce and so we said forget it you crazy capitalist Church creeps and moved on to the Library where we received a warm welcome and an invitation to post on their bulletin board. Thanks American Library- which by the way charges like 70 euro a year for membership. It's expensive being an American in Paris!

Today was cold, overcast and from time to time snow flakes danced in the air around us. I've mentioned before in past blogs that I've been to Paris a handful of times but today was the first time I really saw La Tour Eiffel and it made an impression. La Tour Eiffel is simply beautiful, I can't believe Parisians didn't take a shine to it at first, it's striking and inspiring and simply comforting. I've never seen a photo or painting that has come near to doing it justice.

After La Tour Eiffel we were on a mission to visit the largest asian food market in Europe. It was in a dull grey part of chinatown but inside I felt like a kid at Christmas, overwhelmed and thrilled. Sylvain had the basket and it took us about 5 minutes to fill it. It was the cheapest shopping trip we've had and then we came home and made chicken teriyaki, spring rolls and tom yum soup...

Fan Prix, Ed, Tang Freres, and Marchet

My mom is convinced that we have a refrigerator the size most college kids have in their dorm rooms. She has this vision of Europeans that is the downsize version of Americans, small cars, small bodies, small sodas, small coffees, small countries, small refrigerators. We have a supersized country, so everything else we have might as well get supersized too.

But we have a refrigerator that is about 3/4 the size of my parents at home. But then again they have two extra freezers and they are a two person household just like we are a two person household so what's with all the frozen food? They're like two people waiting for the apocalypse so that they can live off of their frozen and canned goods for longer than the rest of us with a 3/4 sized fridge.

She figured our fridge was so small we had to do our shopping everyday. We don't do it everyday but we do do it a lot, but it isn't because our fridge is smaller, it's because there are 3 or 4 places that we buy things at. Almost daily we go to the boulangerie where we buy pain au chocolat for breakfast or baguette. There are boulangeries on almost every corner like bodega's in New York. Fan Prix is our grocery store although there are several in our neighborhood I like Fan Prix the best, grocery stores here are small they have small sections of everything - rice and pasta options taking up a shelf versus an aisle in the states. We get our yogurt, eggs, nuts, milk etc at Fan Prix. At Ed I buy pasta and those kiddie snacks like chocolate pudding because Sylvain likes them. Tang Freres is the Chinese grocery, since we eat a lot of asian dishes we go there for the noodles, curry pastes, ginger and rice. You have to buy your produce at the street market- well I guess you don't have to but it makes the best sense. The market sellers clear out around 2pm so you have to get what you want early.

Appleton in Le Marais

Before coming to Paris I got in contact with a girl I went to middle and high school with, we were in the band and French class together. She lives about an hour outside of Paris and today she came to the city to spend the day with me in Le Marais. I'd been to Paris a handful of times in my life but I'd always concentrated on the museum circuit, Louvre, Centre Pompidou, Musee D'orsay, Musee Picasso etc. so there are few things I've missed, Le Marais and the Eiffel Tower being two of the more significant boxes I havent ticked. Le Marais is the gay and jewish neighborhood. Before we left for Paris I asked Sylvain if we would be able to find Jews in France because my life in New York was all about the Jews. My two best friends are Jewish welcoming me into their families, I love Jewish holidays, we live on the UWS which is predominantly Jewish, when I worked downtown it was across from Jewish bakeries and the Jewish pickle man and of course, Jon Stewart and Woody Allen make New York what it is today. On the other hand who doesn't love the gays, they dress better than all of us and although not exactly the comedians most of the Jews are, they are just as much fun to be around.

Unfortunately this is still Paris, where everything is over-priced. Still there was a great Jewish deli/bakery where I found sesame bagels and gefilta fish in addition to cheesecake, which is certainly New York, but is it Jewish? At over 5 dollars a square I find myself not really caring, because I wouldn't spend that kind of money on cheesecake anyway. All around Paris there are chocolate shops, bakeries, patisseries and delicious food and drink, with everyone weighing around 120 lbs I want to know whose eating it all?

At the Smith party someone told me all the French girls weigh themselves everyday and if they're 200grams heavy they eat soup for dinner. Add coffee and pile on some cigarettes and I believe you. My friend from high school French class whose lived here 8 years put it this way- in America people are just bigger but if you ask a friend if it seems like you've gained weight they tell you look great and you should stop worrying, on the other hand in France if you've gained a few pounds the French will tell you and then ask you whether you should really be eating that cheese for lunch considering all the weight you've put on. It's like their friends and co-workers are holding them accountable for their eating- they always say you can't shame a person into quitting drinking or smoking, but I think France has proven that you can shame people into thinness.

Le Marais was just like some part of London I can no longer remember the name of and Soho in New York. It was filled with expensive shops and cute places to eat, drink and spend a fortune this shiny veneer that when you step back no matter how cute it is, no matter how pretty the people, it all seemed a bit empty, propped up by nice things with no real character. Nonetheless I enjoyed every minute of exploring it. That's Paris I guess...

Smithies in Paris

The other night there was a Smith General Assembly meeting. Smith being my alma mater and wanting to find an American community for myself here I attended. I was under the assumption that the Smith College of Paris would be largely comprised of women much older than myself, I don't see a lot of my contemporaries being involved in Smith activities post graduation. Moreover, it's been a while since going on JYA to Paris meant finding a French boyfriend and marrying him. We just don't marry that young anymore, and the French don't marry in general.

The meeting was at L's house, she was a woman with the kind of apartment you see in Interior Design Magazines she was older and prone to senior moments but she looked great, snappy french bob dyed a nice auburn. I felt like snapping photos and bringing them home to show Sylvain. The agenda for the meeting was a review of the lack of anything happening with the Smith Club in the last few years and then "vote" for new board members. I was a lot confused about the structure of voting- people that wanted to be president, secretary and treasurer stood up and said three sentences about themselves- there were about 8 people, and then the current president sort of said, ok L your president, M your treasurer everyone ok with that? It seemed to have been the type of friendly thing that everyone was just ok with because they've been involved in the club for 40 years and no one was about to say anything against anyone anyway, the only reservation I had was that some younger members were interested in participating and this being the first time the club had had a general assembly meeting in 3 or 4 years we were not able to participate in any significant way. Granted most of the 20 somethings in Paris were former JYA students who came back for more but would likely only stay a year or so, but there were 2 of us who were perhaps here indefinitely because of French companions but there was a glaring rift between the old guard and the new. As far as I could tell there were no members in their 30's and the largest majority of members were in their 50-70's and retired. We were all connected by facebook type social networking sites and the others while they participated in email were unlikely to be setting up profiles and uploading recent photos from a weekend away in Amsterdam.

Afterwards we enjoyed champagne and delicious snacks- even a pecan pie. People exchanged cards and email addresses and with all the networking it seemed like we'd see everyone in a couple weeks or so, but of course nothing could be further from the truth, Smith events don't happen more than a few times a year. I came home around 11 having had a wonderful evening and optimistic about finding at least some sort of American network while I'm here. The truth is, I hated Smith while I was there, it was empowering in finding strength as a woman, I found take back the night vigils moving and when you're in a room without men you see women are natural leaders- at wed's meeting woman stood up and voiced disagreement in confident and ballsy ways concerning anything from dues, being cut off while speaking and generally voicing discontent. It's much more common to see women speak up for themselves when it's an all Smith gathering then when it's not. The name Smith has gotten me jobs and helped me in my career, but while I was there I felt cut off from the world, disappointed with much of what I felt was antiquated and unnatural. We were asked to help recruit or interview potential new Smithies, but I felt like in many ways I wouldn't be a great candidate, after all I was more or less unhappy there and I would have a hard time suggesting anyone else go and have a similar experience. Our current president Carrol Christ has been found to be the subject of blanket disapproval from current students, and professors alike. Smith from what I hear is in a state of disrepair losing students, professors, popularity and faculty positions. In this day and age many have never even heard of women's college's and except for lesbians it doesn't offer the social experience like their co-ed counterparts can. Underage drinking, drug use and sex are as prolific as at most other universities, but it all feels like it's taking place at a sequestered insane asylum instead of a house party off campus. Smith straight social life to me has always felt desperate. Maybe things have changed, maybe it was just my experience, but the place was weird. So no matter how good I feel about finding some Smithies in Paris, and appreciative of the jobs the name Smith has helped me get, I just don't feel comfortable sharing my experience with perspective candidates.

Walking around town

We haven't set out to do any sightseeing as of yet. I've been to Paris enough to have ticked most of the boxes anyway. Still yesterday on our way to get a convertor adaptor for my laptop charger we had to go to the Louvre. The Louvre is the kind of place you have to go once in your life, I.M. Pei's striking entrance still seems eclipsed by the ostentatious palace that Louis XIV thought seemed a little too small and thus had Versaille built. La Jaconde (Mona Lisa) is the size of piece of printer paper and it seems that most people, need to see it in order to belief it's lack of imposing authority. But the Apple store, imposing as ever, is of course, in the Carousel de Louvre, where else would Apple be after all. Still it was about a third as grand and glorious as any of the Apple stores in Manhattan.

We also passed by the Opera House which holds up the standard of ornate French architecture. The other day I was writing about the graffiti that degraded the beauty of the city and after talking to a girl at Maxim's who was telling me how much she loved London and the spirit and energy there it got me thinking about why London can better incorporate it's street art. In general London is much more rugged. It's architecture is austere in comparison, Christopher Wren and his contemporaries were busy crunching numbers and doing geometry trying to compose perfect proportions and perfect seriousness. The buildings are old and English, flat walled facades with greek columns and everything was quite ordered and conservative. I believe it's because of this order and lack of ornament that as time has taken its tole contemporary artists have been able to use it as a somewhat blank canvas. In France ornamentation abounds, building tops, window guards and whatever else might do nicely with a flamboyant flourish got one or two. So even though time has passed as the old saying goes you can't mix patterns and stripes.

The good and the bad.

Our apartment and as far as I can tell most apartments in Paris have two access codes to get in the first two doors of entry, after that we use our keys. I like this a lot, it means when you've got two bags of groceries and a purse you don't have to do anything but push a few numbers with your finger, then when you get to your door you can put your bags down and search for your keys. My apartment in New York had two entry doors and then our apartment door, each with a different key and this way I'm not digging out keys and constantly lifting up and putting down bags.

Another thing I like about the apartment buildings here is their effort to save energy, instead of having lights on in all the hallways on all the floors they have timer lights, each floor has it's own and you just press it and the light turns on for a minute or whatever, but when no ones using the hallway it turns off saving energy.

It's illegal to put hormones in your animal products here- I've mentioned Eating Animals about 5 times already in this blog, but what I'm learning is seriously disturbing. I only bought the book because I've read Jonathan Safran Foer's two novels and thought he was a great writer, I didn't have that much interest in the whole animal flesh as food debate because I hardly eat any as it is, but it's easily the best book I've read in the last year or so. Normally I dont eat meat but Sylvain likes it so we sometimes have chicken. In the states once a chicken is slaughtered it goes into a large tank where the chickens take a water bath so their body temperatures cool. Since none of the fecal matter is rinsed off prior to the bath it becomes fecal soup and our chicken's absorb up to 13% or this water since we pay by weight we are actually paying for 13% of just plain water and fecal matter. In countries like Canada and all of Europe this is illegal and instead chickens are cooled in a big refrigerator instead. Moreover it's also satisfying to know the French don't have to worry about the early onset of puberty in young people (in addition to the added weight gain) that studies have linked the hormones we put in chicken feed in the States. So, the chicken you buy here is a lot smaller, but I suddenly feel like 13% extra fecal soup and hormone therapy isn't really a deal anyway.

I've never had to wait more than a minute- even at night, for the metro to come, it is so fast and so efficient. But the subway map is a huge mess that makes no sense.

So I don't love our neighborhood. I don't know what to say except it lacks charm and there aren't any particular conveniences to be had, no parks, no cute cafes or great grocery stores it's a bit grey and dull. Our apartment is kind of the same, last night we were laying there and I said, in our next apartment I really want two rooms- so we have a separate bedroom. Sylvain really wants windows that look out onto something other than a building next to us. It would also be great- if it's not asking to much, to have a kitchen bigger than the handicap stall in public bathrooms.