Lateness Suits Me

Got up early. Got to the metro station early. RER (train) strike. Got to my appointment 30 minutes late. Go figure.

Dentist

"Hi. My name's Izzy. I'm an English teacher for the state and I'm here to get my teeth cleaned."

I don't know what possessed me to say that. Now I have a new dentist and a new tutoring client. Life is Good.

Phone Fear

For those of you that have known me for a while, you may remember my fear of calling people via the telephone. I've never had a problem talking (at least not after I know you). I've never been afraid to answer the phone. My sole fear was calling people. Ok, to be honest, my fear was also initiating any form of contact. I dreaded it. In fact I still do - at times. In general though, I'm over it, in English.

French is another story! I hate hate hate hate hate calling people here. I blame perfectionism. Unless I can do something perfectly I don't want to do it at all. This is why I often tell French people I'm timid - because I don't want to mess up language-wise, I don't talk. I admit it. I'm subconsciously afraid of what people think. I'm afraid of criticism. I guess you could call me proud and insecure. ... those two traits don't seem like they would be bed-fellows though...perhaps they are. Who knows ! I digress.

Why am I ranting about this? Well, because today I called two different companies and achieved more in 10 minutes than I have in the past two months of dealing with these people. Lesson learned: when in France, use the telephone.

Update: I've now called multiple places. I'm in my groove.

I Like McDonalds

Enough of this OMG -I'm -a -well -educated -American -in -France -and -so -I -cannot -be -caught -dead -in -an -evil -monsterish -American -fast -food -chain crap!!! Sure French food is great but sometimes you need a little lovin'. Love in the form of MacDo.

Best News of the month: The McDonalds up the street is open until 2AM. OMG!

Sans Papiers

Down by Republique is a homeless shelter. Citizens are encouraged to come to the shelter with their identity cards and have their photo taken with a sans papiers, or illegal alien. Interesting.

To Wear Shorts - That IS the Question

I can't believe I'm actually having a hard time with this. Who have I become? Where is the country girl we all know and love?

So, I'm sitting in my apartment debating the pros and cons of wearing shorts to the laundry mat. Honestly it doesn't seem like a big deal. But it is. It really is. My rational self says: If I wear shorts, at least I'm not naked. But my irrational self says: I think I might be more comfortable naked. France is a place where one does not wear shorts unless one is running. Even then, I see more pants and pants-like things than shorts - on females. Guys can do whatever they want. But females must adopt that Parisian je ne sais quoi. Argh.

This whole silly situation wouldn't be such a problem if I had clean pants. But I don't. Nothing. I haven't done wash in over 4 weeks. My pants are begging to be cleaned.


Conclusion: Wear dirty pants. Wash that pair another time. I cannot risk the humiliation. Being caught in shorts, by a neighbor, would be the instant death of me.

Couchsurfing and the Clown Bar.

I'm a member of couchsurfing. Google it.

This week's couchsurfing friend was Spencer. He's from Alaska (how cool is that!) and just finished the merchant marine academy. As a present to himself, he decided to visit Paris. I met up with him, showed him some parts of the city and took him to the Clown Bar for dinner.

The Clown Bar is cheap and oh so yummy. The interior is wood, glass and clowns. I really have no words to do it justice. Think clowns. Think wine bar. Think three types of crème brulée (vanilla, coffee and orange). Why clowns? Because it's next to the circus silly.



Clown Bar
114, Rue Amelot
75011 Paris

So Obama Wins the Nomination

It's a weird thing to watch your home country from the outside. The nomination is all over American newspapers (of course). It's all over France. I'm sure it will be all over the lips of my students for the next week or two.

I admit that I had no idea the democratic nomination thingie was yesterday. I was too wrapped up in helping my mother redo her resume. Can you believe that my sweet, friendly, passive is FINALLY applying for a new job?!? For those of you that know her, this little application process is worthy of having a party about. If I were home, I would definitely celebrate with a shindig. Complete with cake and ice cream. She has talked about a new job for years. So last night, she applied for a new job. I was all excitement. So anyway, yeah, no idea about the nomination. The last months have a been a circus and frankly, it's about time it was solved. I mean, it only helped the "Americans are crazy" stereotype. Thanks American politicians, thanks.

In other news, I'm in the Paris phone book. Life goal achieved.

Long Time No Blog

I feel like I fell asleep at the end of April. May was nonexistent. I didn't DO anything. Boo. Except, well, a lot of stuff happened. Little J and Eliza left France. I finally got my CAF payment from the government. I randomly went to Lille (great town) for a day. Made some new couchsurfing friends. Rollerbladed through the streets of Paris. Saw Indiana Jones (not worth the time). Nicole visited (awesome!). I got some new clients. Going away parties. Nights out. Days in. Wasting time on the net. Reading. etc etc etc.