As I was jogging through the gardens of the Louvre, I pondered life. Yes, life. Hahaha. Really though, I jogged(and walked; I am still out of shape) through the Tuilleries Garden and around the Louvre. It’s not even a mile away! I was getting a little stir crazy being with French speaking children and an Irish nanny. I called my friend Eric (marathon runner) to see if he would like to get out for a jog. We live about a half mile away so he was up for it. I hadn’t eaten at all yet. Yeah it was 8:30pm. Eh. Well that’s not true, I had about a quarter of a baquette, a cappuccino, glass of Coca-Cola (no, it’s not Coke here), and part of Zacharie's goutee (afterschool snack that is a MUST for French children – everyone shows up with a fresh bakery snack each day). I was getting hungry and I wasn’t up for eating with the family. I just got to that point of “Peace out peeps”. I will admit, the three/four/five course meals can be very glamorous and fancy, but doing it three times a day is ROUGH. I can’t handle it. I can handle the wine and champagne, but the rich food. Ek.
This morning I started off learning the routine. Watching Zacharie run around naked trying to avoid anything that he was supposed to do. Yes, I saw my challenge right then and there. Verena is an absolute pleasure. She looks like my sweet Leah Howard which is comforting. She is a little fasionista in a 10 year old body. Wednesday afternoon we have a dates to go to H&M (phonetically awsh-en-em) and Zara. I told her I needed some clothes and a new handbag. Her eyes lit up. I am going to have a 10 year old teach me about French style. It was time for me to make Zacharie's lunch. Jeannette (current nanny) told me to grab the bread out of the toaster and to spread the stuff on the bread. So I see this “stuff”. It’s pink and has the consistency of cream cheese that has been left out a while. The French tend to leave stuff out for a while (milk, eggs, CHEESE) so I asked if that’s what it was. No, it is fish eggs. GAG. Poor kid eats that for lunch. Never will I try it. We talk the 20 minute metro ride to the school. Once we drop him off we walk down Rue Cler which is amazing; fresh markets, coffee shops, flower shops, Ed (cheap grocery store), and Zac’s swim lessons – whose instructor has caught Jeannette’s eye many a times.
Upon returning Isabelle, in her very chic attire was griping the boys out saying “Connie and Jeannette, have you seen such couch potatoes that don’t take their eyes off of the TV or the ordinatuer(computer)?” Then she continued to rambled on in French to them. Another duty was to not allow the boys to sit on the couch and watch TV. Hmmm. I did succeed in making them get off the couch to play American football with the ball I bought them. When I was alone with them I threw the ball at them and said, “Get off the couch and go play some football. You two throw like girls, you need to practice.” They laughed and did it! Well for like 20 minutes, then they were back on the couch. Mrrrrrr!
I was off to get my metro card and to enroll for my French courses. The metro card didn’t work. My French is so horrible that I just left frustrated with myself. I did succeed on the second task, kind of. I managed to get where I need to go on the metro on my first try. Come on, give me props. I mastered the Paris metro system. However, I arrived at my school and was told that I can’t enroll until September. Mrrrrr. Not a total loss, I had victory over the metro. I wasn’t going to count the day a total loss, so I studied up on my French and went back to try to get my metro card. Well they understood me, but said I have to be “less than 26 years”. Great thanks, I’m too old to be a student even though I am a student. That sucks, pardon my French, but it does. It was a day of chasing rabbits. I have blisters to show my efforts. They are beautiful.
I found out that since I “love” to cook, I now get to cook the family meal every night. Everyone together, give me a sarcastic “Yay!”. I mean, I like to cook. I have only ever cooked for one, tell me how I cook for a French family of six. I told Jeannette today, “Hey do you think you could cook tonight and I could watch?” Thank goodness because tonight Veal was on the menu. She was shocked to know I had never cooked veal much less eaten it. On a lighter note, it doesn’t have to be French meals, I can do whatever. I have Creative Control…muah hahahha (Melissa – picture me doing the notorious Mr. Burns fingers). Which reminds me, I saw The Simpsons in French. The woman that does the French Marge’s voice tries too hard. She’s gonna develop chronic laryngitis if she isn’t careful. It’s was still humourous. This time I was laughing at the language rather than the story line.
During the run I stopped to get a Coca-Cola Light (Diet Coke). I really need to take a picture of this bottle. It’s the funniest thing I have ever seen. It’s so comic to me. It’s a 1.5 liter and quite deformed. I bought one that big just so I could look at it and laugh. I can only drink half, but I figure the extra euros could pay for the entertainment I get from the giggles it provides. You just wait until the picture is published. Wait I’ll do it right now
Pictures, that’s another story. I really want to take some but I am rather intimidated. I think I will break something. My finger will go numb or my right eye will stay shuck forever. There are so many “photo ops” and things that are so beautiful. I can’t start or I will never stop. Those of you that know me well know that I cannot control myself when I have a camera in my hand. Put me in a room with white walls and no doors, it doesn’t matter, I will still have a party with my camera. Can you imagine me in the most beautiful city in the world? It’s a freakin lost cause. Someone should take pictures of me taking pictures, that would be much more entertaining!
As I lay here, Zeus the Cat, walks in my room for the third time to check things out. He really likes my stuff. I think he secretly wishes he was an American outdoors cat. He’s so repressed. Heh. He looks out the window and sees a bird on the roof and just reaches at the glass. He likes to do what Ruthie the Great (my Chihuahua back home) did to me in the morning. I wake up to a cat walking around me from my feet around my head and back again. I am like Snow White, animals just long to be with me. Everyone remembers my fascination for squirrels. We won’t go there, not in this entry.
Well friends, that’s all I have for now. Others will follow. Pictures may come later. No promises though. I told you my dilemma with that, right? I will show some pictures that I have. I am able to contain myself in the flat.
The view from the laundry room.
The lift from the flat.
Ratatouille
In the cinema
Fancy Schmancy Paris street signs - My street. Home sweet home.
Not too shabby of a view to see each day
