Want to know what else is bananas? Me going on a 2 hr solo mission at 8pm on a Sunday ending up in the ghettos of Paris, avoiding gang wars, dodging screaming bums, peeing myself a little (due to the attack of the bum) and the whole time thinking "what the fuck is the number for 911 in this city?? Knowing all numbers start with like 0001182838 and then of course there's the country code 848201 ..." and then just resorting to ... I'M FUCKED. But hello ... hi .. here to tell about it so obviously NBD ... if you want the full story write me i'll email it to you.
To quickly update on my Parisian status ... Bank Account? Check .... Cell phone? Check (see picture for proof) Friends to call? Debatable (do your landowner and work numbers count?) ... Apt? Moving in on Friday so technical Check. Stupid corny pictures in front of monuments? Embarrassingly a check but will not be revealed due to the fact that only TOURISTS do things like that.
So I started work last week after a sabbatical of approx 5 weeks, which I must say was glorious. And let me tell you ... the french know how to do work. Don't have to get in till around 9:30. Then you have to get coffee (15 mins after getting to work) and it comes in a shot sized cup which somehow takes 20 mins to drink. Then its practically lunchtime which includes a FULL meal and when I mean full i mean meat/rice/veggies type of meal (i'm not so into that so everyone at work thinks i'm a vegetarian ... ha if they only knew how much I could go for a cheesestakes from Genos). Clearly this meal is to take an hour and a half which is followed by a thirty minute grace period known as "on prend un café?" I made the mistake the first day to say no to my post meal coffee only to be stared at like an American in Paris (and WHO wants to be one of those???). Since then ... no coffee mishaps have occurred. It might actually be the cause of my bulimic ballerina type heartburn. I must include the fact that they work 35 hrs a week as norm and have 5 weeks paid vacation and 10 forced holidays.
All thats just the breakdown of the daily grind ... I NEED to tell you guys about the formalities of the office. Every morning when you get to work you need to give the people you run into "les bises" (kisses ... two in fact) now this can cause for severe anxiety disorder if you are a shy (i know you dont believe me but i've been pretty shy lately) Canadian girl. I dread having to get up and kiss everyone or shake their hand and try to keep track of who I've already seen and who I didnt and then I do the hesitation dance which goes: a lean in slash a back away, all to seem like I was only kidding (you know what I mean). Sounds childish but its HELL. Then there are table manners, if you decided you want water you need to go get the glass pitcher bring it to the table... which then involves pouring the water for everyone who wants some. O M G G. therefore I usually sit parched throughout lunch while I wait for someone else to pour the water in avoidance of what has high school embarrassment written all over it ... what if i were to slip while holding the water jug or spill water all over someone ... and to that I say nah uh frenchies I'm smarter than that. They do make up for all the anxiety they cause me by hosting happy hour in the office on friday nights .... makes for an interesting boat ride home (but that's a whole other story).
I'm pretty sure that everyday I proclaim at least once "I've found the BEST bakery in Paris" only to find out thats a fucking oxymoron considering they're all AMAZING. You can get fresh croissants for breakfast right out of the oven everyday if you want and you don't have to walk anywhere more than outside your door.
And to let you know I really have started to make friends ... went to an "after work" last week which is a nicer way to say happy hour and it was pretty baller ... it included endless supplies of champagne with table service and great company. Plus watching french people dance is enough reason to pay cover on its own.
All in all this place is pretty much like the typical portrait you think it is and I love it. People do ride around on bicycles, people make out freely, as I've already mentioned leather and fur a plentiful and the food is phenomenal ... but don't go thinking this place is like they show it in Ratatouille ... I've heard asian tourists cry in disappointment when they come here (who even knew Ratatouille came out in Japan?)
Mais là il faut que je prepare mon souper ..... à tout ...
bises
