A measly 3 minutes

I left on Saturday with two hours and 15 minutes before my plane left. Or at least I thought it was 2h 15 min. It was actually only 2h and 5 min. While I was in France they changed my flight time to be ten minutes earlier. I didn't think it was that big of a deal. Apparently it was. So, running ten minutes behind I got on the A train towards Howard Beach station. Oh, did I mention that the A train is an express train? Except for on weekends. And when you really need it. So it stopped at. every. single. stop.

So I'm running a little late (but I've still got an hour and 15 minutes or so) when I get on the Airtrain, which isn't super slow, but slow enough for me to want it to go faster. I get off the Airtrain with just over an hour, and walk my way to the Delta terminal. When I got there a nice man told me to go to the self check-in before I got in line. No big deal. Everything is going well and then I push the button that says I need to check my baggage and a screen comes up telling me that it's too late for me to check my baggage and to talk to an attendant. This was about 8:53.

So I talk to an attendant and he says "Oh yes. Oh yes, you are too late. You're going to have to talk to one of these ladies at the counter to get on the next flight."

I'm sorry. What?

Apparently, Delta makes you check your bags in at least an hour before your flight. So even though my flight left at 9:50, I had to wait another seven hours for the next flight to Salt Lake. But at least it was just seven hours and not thirteen, like the woman I talked to had to wait (but that was because she got to the airport a day early). Oh, and that big group (50 people) of youth from San Diego who had spent the past week volunteering in Haiti, who missed their flight and had to wait until the next day to be re-routed. I actually talked to one of the guys in charge and he told me that they were a church group who had gone down to do repainting and repair stuff. He kept saying, "the Lord's hand is in everything" and all I could think was, "Yes, I totally agree. I just don't know how me coming late three minutes was so important." I don't know if I really needed to miss my plane or not, but after that conversation I've been thinking more seriously about doing my field study in Haiti. I had thought about it before, but now I'm thinking that if I can combine it with an internship, I will. We'll see.

I'll keep you posted.

Bluemarble

For my last night in the big apple, we had a picnic in the park, tossed the frisbee around, and then ate ice-cream at Bluemarble. Delicious. I was convinced that I needed to try the ginger ice-cream. I must admit, I was a bit skeptical. I was even a little apprehensive. I needn't have been. It was delicious. Next time I go to Brooklyn I am going to make a return trip. Unless I can find one closer.


P.S. While we were tossing the frisbee around, Micah was holding Simon and either Lizzie or I threw a way-off pass, but he still ran after it with Simon in his arms, and caught it. A lady behind us yelled, "Did you see that?! That guy just caught that with a baby in his arms!!" Yeah. Go Micah.

The Sights, Sounds, and Smells of NYC

I don't know why, but I took an immediate liking to New York. Maybe it was because the smell of pizza was pervasive. Maybe it was because it didn't reek of cigarette smoke and b.o. (like Paris sometimes did--not always, but sometimes). Maybe it was because I could understand what people were saying, even if they were speaking with a New Jersey accent (which made me happy). Or maybe it was because there is an energy in New York. From what I saw, people were friendly, they joked and laughed, they talked quickly and loudly, and I loved it.

As for the sights...

a proper Brooklyner

Simon has a bit of a Brooklyn accent. And its awesome. Its not really strong but he pronounces 'nine' like 'noine' and 'work' like 'woik.' Of course I don't know how much of this is Brooklyn and how much of it is just being young, because he also pronounced 'Baked Alaska' kind of like 'baked disasta' or 'big disasta.'

But no matter. Its adorable.

Vroom Vroom!

Simon took quite a liking to this toy at the Apple store. He kept hopping on and off and wanting Oliver to be put on it too.

He's so cool.


This Apple store was super cool, by the way. It had a bunch of old, vintage-y things like this coke machine that actually had coke in it that you could buy. Well, I'm not actually sure you could buy it because the security guard had to open it up for the kid who put in his dime. But at least the kid got one, right? (not this kid, another kid)

After we left this store we got real New York pizza, which after six weeks of French pizza (which is not real pizza), this totally hit the spot. Mmmm!

just try

Even though we were an hour-and-a-half early for our train from Nice to Paris, my friend and I almost missed it because we didn't ask anyone where to go. You see, there were two trains, but we thought there was only one. We looked up and down the first one and part of the second one, and we thought they were connected somehow. They weren't. And we almost got stranded in Nice because of it. Thankfully we started talking to this girl from New Jersey who, five minutes before the train was supposed to leave (we were wondering why they wouldn't open the doors) asked one of the guys in bright green vests where to go. He pointed to the other train. She motioned to us. We got on just as the second-to-last whistle was blowing.

I was glad we got on, but seriously? I had just spent 6 weeks in this country trying to learn the language and this girl from New Jersey (my same age), who has been in France for about two weeks and knows none of the language had more guts than I did to communicate with a French person. How embarrassing.

Also, when my friend and I got to Paris we met up with her parents who had flown in the day before. When we got there we found out that her mom had just had her hair cut. She doesn't speak French. The barber didn't speak English. And yet it looked fine. I would have never had the guts to do that.

So in addition to my needing more guts, here's an idea: just try. If it doesn't work, if nothing was communicated, at least you can say that you tried.

a little distracted

I'm sorry that there haven't been any updates recently, but since I left Paris (which was an adventure in and of itself), I have been in New York visiting my sister and her family (as most of you reading this already know). You can plainly see how I could be distracted from blogging when I have Thing 1 and Thing 2 to play with.
Thing1

Thing 2

And oh yeah, this to visit.

But lets rewind a little bit and restart at me leaving Nice...

the week in Nice

I didn't blog much this week because I wanted to sit back and relax. So this is what I did.

Monday: I saw a museum, saw the view of an old fortress, went shopping, and had FHE.
The museum was small and not very interesting, but the one we wanted to go to was closed.
The fortress was super cool, and because of a tip from an old guy who gave us directions, we took the elevator and not the stairs, which was a very good idea. The view was phenomenal and there was this cool waterfall.

Shopping was great, and I finally got the one thing that I told myself I had to get while I was in France: the striped shirt.
FHE was essentially a party, and after that I partied with my friends.

Tuesday: I saw a Russian Orthodox Church and spent the afternoon at the beach.
The church was cool because it definitely didn’t look like it belonged in Nice, but apparently there are a lot of Russians who spend their vacations here, so the royal family had it built way back when.
As for the beach…when will I ever learn? I know that in the last hour of my stay, I will always get burned. The three hours before that mean nothing. If I had left an hour earlier I might have been a little pink, but because I stayed that extra hour I spent the next three days gingerly moving around.

Wednesday: I left the country.
I went to the principality of Monaco. Yeah, that’s right Monaco. Not Morocco, like I keep saying whenever I talk about it, but Monaco. You might remember it from the movie Casino Royale. If you don’t remember it, watch that movie again because part of it takes place in the Monte Carlo Casino. I’ve been there.
While I was there I also saw the royal palace and the royal cathedral where Princess Grace Kelly Grinaldi is buried. Those Monacoans really did like Princess Grace. Her name is everywhere.

Thursday: this was kind of a hodge-podge day.
I did laundry (way too expensive and half of my clothes now have mysterious red streaks on them, so not worth it), took a nap, went to the store for some last-minute shopping, nearly got blown away by the wind, and then went to dinner with the group in Old Nice. Old Nice by the way, is super cool. It has a ton of shopping and eating places and GELATO! There was this place with about 50 flavors (beating the pants off of Baskin Robbins), some of which were fig, rose, lavender, speculoos, avocado, tomato-basil, black olives, pepper, and beer. After the gelato we walked back to the residence along the pier, which was probably the coolest thing I’ve done in Nice. The wind had died down to a cool breeze, there were lights every few yards, people strolling along, and colored lights on the buildings. Awesome.

Friday: this was a bad day full of finals and tracking people down for a study I’m helping with. However, at the end I ate dinner with friends and ate more gelato.


There wasn’t a whole lot of relaxing in there, but I’m glad I did all of it.

Nice

Nice is nice (sorry, lame joke but I had to). Its humid, but its not too bad. It was quite an adventure getting here, with people losing passports and whatnot, but we’re here! Our accommodations are not too shabby.


(the bedspreads are my roommate's, not the residence's

And I’ve already hit the beach and gone to church. Church was awesome! The members here were so much more open and friendly than the ones in Paris. I talked to two or three people in French and I never talked to anyone in the Paris ward in French—it was always English.

How to get into the French heart

Its easy, just draw a moustache on yourself with eyeliner (see post below). Really—that’s all. After we made our movie I had more French people start up conversations within twenty minutes than I had during the entire month before, simply because I had a moustache on my face. Seriously. Everyone who talked to us mentioned it. I even got to experience the French sense of humor, which hadn’t happened yet. Here’s the story:
I had to go to the bathroom really bad and I asked this restaurant owner if I could use the bathroom if I bought something. He said no at first, and then asked if I wanted champagne or whiskey, after which he winked and left. So after a moment’s indecision I darted into the bathroom (it was touch-and-go for a moment), and when I came out I asked him how much fries would cost (I had to buy something because he had told me no earlier and I had used the bathroom). He asked me if I wanted a plate and while I fumbled for a response, he smiled and said: “I wuz keeding. You can go.” I am convinced it was because of the moustaches because some guys talked to us on the metro, one man (who I think was drunk) laughed and asked us if drawing moustaches was a normal thing to do in America, and a couple of people outside of a store called us the three moustaches (there were three of us at the time).
So, to break through that cold Parisian exterior, simply draw a moustache on yourself. C’est tout!

The recipe for the perfect way to end your stay in Paris:

Ingredients:
One glorious sunset
One Eiffel Tower
Four or five vague story elements (this may take some prior preparation)
Eyeliner (black and brown)
Several baguettes (varies according to how many people you are with)
One or more digital cameras
A loss of all sense of propriety
Hundreds of People
Five friendly French boys

Directions:
Spread out the glorious sunset all across the sky. Then place the Eiffel Tower in the middle. Now, with your fellow cooks, hash out the four or five vague story elements. Use the eyeliner to draw moustaches on your fellow chefs.
When you have done that, take the baguettes in hand, and take out the digital cameras. Use the cameras to film your fellow chefs using their loss of all sense of propriety by fighting each other with the baguettes in front of hundreds of people.
When you are close to the end of filming, get the five friendly French boys to take your picture in front of the Eiffel Tower. And then let some of them be in your picture.

Mix all together and enjoy.

*We used my friend’s camera for everything, so when she sends them to me or puts them on facebook or whatever, I will illustrate this little recipe for you.

Bookcase

This has got to be the coolest woodcarving I have ever seen in my life.

There’s only so much you can take

I’m glad that our bus trip ended today. Its been a lot of fun, and I genuinely loved looking at all of these châteaux, but there comes a point when this has lost its charm.

(not me, the building behind me :)

Also, I feel like I’m no longer taking unique pictures—they all look the same.


(oh wait, maybe because they are the same!)

P.S. They do exist! (and apparently they make stuff)

What’s really in the west wing

In “Beauty and the Beast” Belle is forbidden from going into the west wing, supposedly because the rose is in there. Well, I have visited the west wing, and I can tell you that it is not true. She couldn’t go in there because the Beast didn’t want her to know that he had girly bedding.

“In a cottage, by the glen!”*

Sleeping Beauty, Rapunzel, Hansel and Gretel, various other literary characters—I’ve seen all their houses. And I did it in just one day. Find out how you can too by reading on! All one has to do is go to Château Chenonceau and go to the part of the grounds that says it’s a barn. Sounds boring, doesn’t it? If I had known that it advertised itself as a barn, I would have skipped out, so I’m glad I did because it is a lie! Its actually a magical fairyland of hope and happiness! Or just where a bunch of cool buildings are. Don’t know which.




Oh, and these are the three châteaux that were the purpose of our visits (Azay, Chenonceau, and Amboise).




The kitchens in Chenonceau were my favorite.



*name that movie

Food! Glorious food!

So, after that first sketchy dinner, things have only gotten better. The highlight of Tuesday was the dessert, crème brulée.


(they gave us two! And that’s a shell-shaped Madeline in the background)

Tonight was amazing. I don’t know the names of anything (sorry!), so you’ll just have to be satisfied with pictures and some rather incomplete descriptions.


fruity drink

A type of salad with dried beets or something on the left and a shrimp, parmesan cheese/sesame sandwich on the right

Veal, potato pancake-type things, puréed squash, and some kind of wanton-thing with dried fruit in it


This dessert had some interesting combinations: strawberry, raspberry, basil and pistachio. One word: fabulous.