Glad to be Home.

Ireland was fabulous. Just the break I needed from the hustle and bustle of Paris. No pollution. No language barrier. No merde. I learned how to drive a manual car. I spent the week waking up to the sound of waves. Spent my nights eating and drinking and watching the lights scream over the ocean. Even built a fire. Ate Burger King (so awesome!). Saw Dublin. The Cliffs of Moher. New Grange. The Blarney Stone. Found tasty cupcakes. It was perfect, but I'm glad to be home.

Declaration of Love.

My 23rd birthday yesterday. A washing machine held my clothes hostage for 24 hours. Ate lamb. Laughed a lot. Realized that I don't like Gin - I'll stick with wine, thanks. Spent time with my amazing friends. Received some amazing gifts. Hosted a girl from California. Had a slumber party. Three girls in the bed. Two of us on the floor. Spent the next morning sitting around and talking. Paris, I love you. As much as I complain, I love you. You'll always be mon amour.

Counting Down

In keeping with the anticipation of the end of my love-hate relationship with teaching, I would just like to point out that I have 2 days and 4 classes left before I am free. How did I survive? Friends, really loud prayers, tears and a few written words. Oh, and chocolate. Salsa helped too. As did moving to Paris. In fact, moving to Paris was the best decision I've made in the long long time. Amen.

The One Where Izzy Complains A Lot.

-The CAF office says I won't get much money back and yelled at me for applying too late. CAF gives out housing assistance.

-I think I may need to go to the doctor to see about my foot. I talked to a doctor today (no, she couldn't do anything - not her field) who said I should probably just go to the ER. However, I admit that I don't want to go by myself and everyone I know is unavailable to go today. I realize that I should grow "some balls" and do it, but instead I'm sitting at home. Champ.

-I paid out the wazoo for ortho-tri cyclen today. I know that 30 euros for 3 months is nothing compared to what I paid in the States, but when I first got here I paid 18 euros. I feel cheated.

-My apartment smells sour. It's only a matter of time before the mold resurfaces. I continue looking for, and not finding, a dehumidifier under 100 euros. The internet says they exist; the sales clerks are not so sure.

-It's raining.

Foot Health - Because You Asked...

And here she is folks! The great sprained foot in all her glory. Isn't she lovely? Don't you just love those purple and green hues! Still a bit swollen, but no worse for wear.

On other news, I went to social security this afternoon and said what's up? I explained to an extremely old grump that I did indeed have a complete dossier and told her to verify it by looking through it herself. She tried to say that I was missing documents. I pointed them out to her. Her response? Oh, I didn't see them. Bullcrap old woman! I'm going back tomorrow to raise hell verify that my dossier is getting the urgent attention I was promised.

Keys

I finally did it! I got copies of my apartment keys. Grand total? 79 euros. Yeah, a little cher (expensive). Where's the WalMart key department when you need it.

So What's It Take to Live in Paris?

My monthly life in Paris:

Rent: 570 euros for a 15 m studio in the 11th, all charges included.

Electric: about 60 euros every two months.

Phone/Internet: 60 euros every two months.

Cellphone: about 35 euros a month (it's pay-as-you-go)

Groceries: umm, 30 euros a week.

Metro Pass: I'm currently spending 118 euros a month for zones 1-6. I think for zones 1-2, it's about 55 euros.

Dining Out:
-a non-happy hour cocktail is anywhere from 8-12 euros (expect it to be TINY).
-a beer is around 5-10 euros.
-a sushi dinner is 10-15 euros.
-a tomato and cheese OR chestnut spread and banana crepe is 4 euros
-fondue is around 15 euros.
-steak and fries (classic bistro food. yummy!) is about 12-15 euros.

So bare bones living, without dining out is around 750 euros a month. At this point, I don't even try to put that into U.S. dollars because it just makes me depressed.

Student Strike

I didn't want to get up this morning. As my dad says: 5Am comes awful early. Plus my foot still hurts from Saturday and I'm walking with a slight limp. I could have called off, but I did make a cake for "my kids" in addition to buying a bunch of American junk food. I love my kids. So with cake in hand and a bookbag full of goodies, I set off for Nemours. About 15 minutes into my walk to the high school, my foot starts screaming (this is after my hour commute). Grr. I told myself: another 10 minutes and you'll be there, suck it up. So I sucked it up. At t-8 minutes into almost being there, I notice a lot of teenagers milling around. Interesting. At t-9 minutes, I come upon the entire student body chanting outside the school. It's blocked Madame someone tells me. The students aren't letting anyone in or out the main gates. As a protest to the new education laws, the students are refusing to go to school today. Good for them - I hope they actually know what they're protesting against because neither I nor any of my native tutorees have any idea (ok, that's a lie. I sort of have an idea, but honestly cannot give an informed summary of the entire situation. My tutorees have even less of an idea.).

Because my school loves me, they recently changed the locks to the side gates and haven't given me a new key. Alas, there I am with cake in hand and a burning foot standing amidst a bunch of protesting high school students without a way to get in the school. I stand like an idiot for a few minutes before deciding it's not my fight. Shrugging, I promptly hobble back to the train station. The next train's in 90 minutes, which gives me lots of time to fume about the whole situation. In my anger/frustration/pain, I may or may not have eaten 80% of the cake.

So Thankful for Good Friends.

I wanted to make a farewell cake for my students. Since I don't have an oven, Chris offered to let me use his. The cake turned out beautifully and I was all happiness. Chris and I took a few bites just to make sure it was good. :) Before leaving his place, I wanted to use the restroom. I thought I knew the layout of Chris' apartment and didn't turn on any lights. Opps. Because of the lack of light, I misjudged the number of stairs to the toilet and fell down them in what can only be described as classic Izzy ungracefulness. Good times. I sprained my right foot/ankle.

Chris was great. While I was crying and yelling at myself, he was all action. He iced the foot, acted as my human crutch and got me home. AND, ladies and gentlemen, he carried me up 5 flights of stairs. I couldn't ask for a better bud.

Chris and Me doing silly things on days when I'm not injuring myself.

A Jonah Night

So the past few days haven't been the best for various reasons. Suffice to say, I'm grumpy. Last night I had dreams about killer mold overtaking my apartment and extremely mean francophones belittling me. Quelle horreur! This morning calls for a croissant from my local bakery!

Where Have All the Cheap Flights Gone?

I can't seem to find a flight home. I mean, there are plenty of flights out there but they cost bunches of money. Whatever happened to the $500 round trip ticket?