ah Paris….
How did I spend my free time? We got out of class by lunchtime….we had great speakers on business writing and the British media….the Brit was quite funny: “bastardizing vowels…”
Well, yesterday afternoon, we had the random September showers. Lexi invited us to lunch. (Mark wanted to check out some of the lectures and Angotti was cool with that.) We tried to keep up with Lexi and the girls on their way to the computer building….located a few blocks away from our classroom building. We failed miserably. Plus I was worried about the rain damaging the camera.
So we headed home instead.
Dropped off the camera and decided to do dejuner at the Italian restaurant on our street. For ten euros – I got the formuale midi: entree – salami, plate – noodles and fish and desert – cambre cheese. I washed down the meal with some vin blanche.
Headed home. Took a nap. Woke up.
Our studio had a washer/dryer machine. So, in the heart of one of the most romantic cities on Earth – we did laundry. The machine can’t dry. We dropped about 2 Euros at a local blanchisserie-mat for 20 minutes of dry time.
Heated up left-over spaghetti and tuna for dinner. Our studio has a kitchen as well. We’re trying to save money…for breakfast – I have some painer et yoplait in the fridge….it’s filling for a bit….then I search for cheap cafe to get my morning kick.
After dinner – we blew the rest of our Euros at a cafe below. Vin blanche and Hemmingway’s A Movable Feast. I wish I finished reading this book before I got to Paris. I’ve already passed many of his old haunts in the 1920’s – he had beer and potatoe salad at Lipps…he drank dry sherry with James Jouce at Les Deux-Magots. Very cool stuff – both are located on St. Germaine – just off Science Po…reading the book is like a scavenger hunt for me….
Weird dreams followed…
Last night, I dreamt I was at church…if could have been Newman – but the place had orange carpet on the floors. They served jambon sandwiches and pasta salad. I felt weird, eating during mass. An old lady passed out flourless chocolate cake. She handed one out and asked who patted down the cake better? Mark and I looked at each other. I told her we would share. They served the food on white styraform plates. Mark sat in another aisle, across from my own. When the priest got into the communion part – we placed our food on the floor and stood with the rest of the parish.