Best Week Ever, Nothing Really Happened

My best week so far has been so, not because of a few poignant events, but actually just an accumulation so far of petites choses so small you might call them pathetic. But holy shit have they made my week feel flippin amazing.

1. The best croissant au buerre so far Ive found is from a place, so close to chez moi, that I could actually sleep walk there, in a storm, wearing three inch heels, with a screaming 3 year old on my back. Delicious.

2. I mustered up the confidence to ask a question today, at the french's attempt to duplicate a Best Buy, and the employee understood what I was saying. You might think this should be a common acheivement in my everyday Parisian life, but alas, it is not. People here never understand what the hell im saying and not only did this guy understand, but he responded with...hold on to your panties here... "good question"....en francais of course. I didnt understand a word he said from then on, and I still dont know whether I can play European DVDs on American computers...but who the hell cares. Someone, finally!, understood what was coming out of Stephanie Stein's mouth. Shaina Stein must be praying extra hard for me on Sundays.

3. Monday night, a couple of friends and I attempted to watch a soccer...ughhh I mean football game..at an Irish bar, and yet again misunderstood the time and day of the match. So of course we opted for a classy cafe instead. Why not...the wine is the same price if not less than the hot chocolate. First, shout out to Paris for having outdoor cafes stay open in the winter and mastering the concept of the space heater. Just as I was enjoying the delicious wine, great company, and the romantical atmosphere of sitting in a warm seat out in the flippin cold.....yep a creepster. I thought I had seen it all folks. I mean New York has no shortage, Costa Rica makes a strong presence in the rankings as well, but a Jamaican man living in Paris took the cake. I thought that telling him I was an escape convict from a small town in Idaho would deter him, but appartantly he was only more interested. Note to self: New pick-up line for French men. Long story that I wish would have been shorter in reality, he drunkenly follows us, barely able to keep his body upright, and manages to grab two out of the three girls sprinting down a grand street in the Marais. We dash into a bar shreiking with a few middle age french men drinking wine and eating chicken wings. (They have those here??? should have not been the dialouge taking up my brain space at that moment) As the creepiest creepster I have ever experienced opens the door and pass out in the entrance flat on the beautiful mosaic floor, one of the guys asks, “ Is this guy with you?” What?! Are you fucking kidding me? We just ran into this place screaming, panting, and asking for antibacterial wipes. No, this guy is not with us sir. What the F??? Well, as far as I know that man is still passed out at that bar. Well, I guess if I ever run out of stories, Ill go wake him up.

   4. Just made a apple, carrot, ginger, kiwi, spinach juice. Delectable.

   5. My heat came on. Reynauds rejoice.

   6. I got to speak English to Carole, one of my roomies, last night. This made me feel like an actual human being and not just like a stupid american girl living with two cool Parisian twenty-somethings. Even though Ive been living here for almost three weeks, it was so nice to chat with her and expand our conversation beyond my limits of hey, you work today?, you hunting this weekend? Shes a great girl. And Im beginning to feel more and more at home everday Im here. I lucked out again living with these ladies. I even have a date to visit their place in Brittany! OOOO! I can barely walk straight so I hope they know not to give me a rifle.

   7. As I was typing an email to a friend, Yellowcard's Ocean Avenue came on. I love a good, crappy flashback. It always reminds me how far I've come, and how much further I should really be....since Im actually enjoying this ridiculous sound right now.

   8. Im making friends with the marche peeps every wed. Fish guy is hot. I told him to keep the change. Booyah.

Yep, this is the stuff that is making me probably the happiest lady on Earth. Its so nice to feel happy when nothing really crazy or out of the ordinary is happening. Im actually enjoying the times when I have nothing to do; for once just enjoying what is happening to me. around me. Even if it is a stranger's hand trying to grab my ass. And beyond this, my little sis is visiting me this weekend. What could be better? I wonder if we are attending church.....oh vey.

Week In Review

Since my favorite section of the lovely (and highly missed!) New York Times is “The Week in Review”, I thought I could make an adaptation and squeeze it into my highly popular blog that I sure is on par with the number of subscribers the Times gets from GoBush, Wyoming. So taking a break from arguing about who really deserves the peace prize or our pathetic headway on the health care front, lets look for a moment at what important news didn't quite make in the NYT version:

Sports Debrief

Me: 0.5*

Croissant au Beurre: 786

*half point awarded for pathetic/minimal effort

Monmartre Wine Festival

Hookers and hipsters congregate together to drink booze, eat tariflette, and scare away German tourists.

Another Fine Mess: Golden Bikinis Not Allowed at Parisian Public Swimming Pools

Girl is told she must wear appropriate swimwear for first time since her mother was allowed to brush her blond bowl-cut.

Economy 101: Euro vs. Dolla

Quick Lesson: If Bikram Yoga is 25 Euros this roughly translates to $36.25. Alternative, I'm a poor teacher-friendly sport: Running. Not only can one run for free , but one may also get a free comedy routine that features American girl, first running while singing, and then falling while shrieking in the middle of a cobblestone street. I smell a Tony folks!

hint: American Girl shreiking/falling=me

Style: Dining & Wine

Spotted: Three Paris roommates, speaking broken French and English, laughing and stumbling out of a midnight dinner bonding over possible male conquests and plans for an American Thanksgiving...all topics that unfailingly transcend the language barrier,especially after a tapped bottled of delicious French wine. (Side note: If every restaurant comes with a personal, tall, handsome, bi-lingual restaurant proprietor to assist in the handpicking of wines in the "cave"....well then, I'm never coming home. But only if the next one isn't married.)

Quotation of the Week

Excerpt taken from a fellow assistant's blog, referring to none other than yours truly:

“Again the Tall One, a fellow English assistant, makes about as much sense as a three year old German child, learning French as a third language.”*

*Actual words may vary and may have been altered in transition form “copy” to “paste”. One thing remains true: I am actually referred to as “the tall one” in true life blog.

Mental Health: Crazed Woman Looking for Company on the Subway

chosen awkward bystander=moi

Technology

French keyboards insist that one must shift to type a period, but not an exclamation point. The origin of their passion explained.

Classifieds

20 something year old in search of older woman, preferably in her seventies, preferably French, to spend afternoons and/or mornings with at cafes, reminiscing about life in wartimes, and keeping her inner golden girl humored.

Status: FOUND

(same story, different city)

The Arts in Review

Deal in the art world: Watch Stephanie Stein dance on the metro. At the Bus Stop. On school grounds. Whether you are looking for Comedy or Ultra Modern Dance-ish-ness, you only have to splurge on the ticket to Paris, France!

Sponsor: www. kayak.com

Well guys, that's pretty much sums up my week. Its lightly raining and I'm about to grab a cafe and find an electric blanket so I can burn myself to pieces. Just kidding mom, Ill stick to real fiiiire. Don't you worry bout a thang.

Speaking of thangs and chicken wangs:

Update: No chicken with attached appendages in the frigo this week. Just a lot of yogurt.

mon frigo est ton frigo...

Sometimes I just need to type, so me make sure I don't completely forgets all mon anglais. So here are a couple of updates, if for nothing less to remind myself that I am living in a foreign country, with a foreign language, where sometimes, things just dont seem to translate....word for word...or contents of ones refrigerator for the contents of ones frigo. Just read on...

1. So, my apartment situation is beginning turning out to be more perfect every day. First, my roomies are awesome. We get along well despite the franglais that I attempt to speak. Yes, the girls might speak so fast that even a Parisian auctionier has reason to feel tense about his job security. BUT, they do have a house in Brittany, which I will hopefully soon visit, and they DO come back from their weekend trips with fresh tomates, courgettes (zuchinni), and freshly preserved compotes compliments of their garden. Since they basically told me “mon frigo (fridge) est ton frigo”, I invited a friend for dinner the other night and this basically left us the responsibility of picking up a baguette and cheese for our meal. So I begin to rummage through the bags in the frigo and viola! What could this be...hmmm feels smooth...a cabbage maybe?...hmmm a little pointy...yes! Its definitely an artichoke...I just know it. Three full minutes of hysterical screaming later...I calm down enough to tell my friend Katheryn that I have just bee stroking a talon of a dead f-in bird wrapped ever so discreetly next to the courgettes and the cheese. Just another ordinary day in the life a frigo a Paris.

   Did I mention my roomies sport of choice? Hunting. And I thought their eyes got big when I told them I was a part time vegetarian because the French like their meat more than they like strikes, cigarettes, and stripes combined. Nope, its because they store dead animals with their apendages still attached in innocent looking newspaper. Go figure.

2. Third day at school today. I am still getting all of the same questions about boyfriends, Obama, and why the heck I am where I am....all things hard enough to explain in English, let alone French. Between a little bratty teenager telling me that my hair is ugly short and young boys winking at me throughout classes, Im not sure how I feel. Actually, I freaking love every second.

3. Just had a 10 minute conversation with my roommate that should have lasted two seconds because of my pronunciation of 22 (veint deux)....she thought I was saying vendu (bought). Yes, indeed, my sister is visiting the apartement on the bought of October. Urghhh....language barrier!

4. I touched a talon. I touched an f-in talon. God Dammit.

5. I officially congratulate whoever made the executive decision that articles in English need not have masculine and feminine forms. Would someone remind me of the purpose of this please? Les, de, du, le, la, blah, blah....

6. #765 we got wrong and the French got right: Apparently you cant get kicked out of your own house. Foreclosures? The French dont grasp this idea because alas! If you are on the street guess who takes over the monetary responsibility? You got it, the good old government. Their idea: We take care of you before we have to. Think about it.

7. #766 the French got wrong and Trader Joes got right: Peanut Butter. And democratic at that: Smooth, Crunchy, Salted, Unsalted. The multiple party system at its best.

8. The strangest people I have met so far are indeed not French, they are British.

9. I have given up temporarily on practicing my french, because I have learned they really dont say much other than Donc (which means nothing), ughhh (which means less), and ahhhh (ditto), and just talk with their hands and kiss each other. Okay....much easier than I thought. Ahhh, now if it were actually this simple....life would just not be as fun and hilarious.

10. First Parisian dinner party last night. Hmmm....very interesting. I stumbled in at about 11'o clock, welcomed by about 20 young Parisians. No English? Its freakin almost midnight and my brain is fried! Three glasses of wine later it turned out to be a great night.....but they could use some New Yorker advice about how to get things a little crazier. Ill break em down. O! Interesting slang usage. To be a la mode (in the know, fashionable....not with ice cream, dad) you sometimes take a phrase and inverse it. Example: C'est fou (Its crazy) becomes C'est uof! (pro: say-oof) Ces Francais sont uofs!

Thanks for listening guys! Its great hearing from all of yous.

Much love.

Peace,

Steph

another home, un nouveau pays

Salut tout le monde!

So, I finally found and settled into an apartment in the 17e arrondisement! It is a little bit of a strange and lucky story of how I found it, but I got extremely, extremely lucky. When I was in California, I went to a yoga retreat for 2 days and met this girl who had studied abroad about 5 years ago...long story short I am now living with her host family's two french daughters about 5 minutes away form les Champs D'Elysee et I can see the L'Arc Du Triomphe from the middle of my street...woooo! Once I figure out how to work my camera I will post pictures....but Im a little techno challenged.

So, lots going on over here! I started my first day of teaching last Thursday and they just threw me into the mix. Apparently they think Im qualified to teach without any experience, instruction, training, or observation. Huh, fine by me. For the most part, my students are great. The classes that speak and understand English pretty well were very interested in a few things: are we all obese?(or obize as they say), what do i think of french food, what brands do i wear, do i like Barack Obama!? (that was a biggie) They were probably most interested to hear whether or not i had a boyfriend and if I liked "black boys". One of the teachers apparently was intrigued when I said I was single, so he made sure to invite me over to his flat and asked if i like foies gras and wine. Hmmm, perfect meal for a semi-vegetarian.....fattened up geese livers....rigggghhht. So, I don't think the schools are very worried about being so politically correct over here. This thought was later confirmed when I heard a teacher later joke with a student that she was sexy. Maybe lawyers just dont exist in this system. Good thing for the french teacher's sake. This guy would be broke as a joke in the US. One subject that is very sensitive is religion. It is a very private part of the French people's lives and it is not mentioned or not allowed to be demonstrated in the schools. No burkas, no clothing advertisement, no mention thank you. It is nice to see that an area of your life that is so personal and controversial, can remain in the home or your place of worship. Maybe they got this right and the foie gras wrong? Debatable.

On teacher orientation day, or "fill out a shitload of papers in french that i wouldnt even understand in english" day, the most notable event was the bottles of wine that were placed throughout the cafeteria for the assistants to enjoy at lunchtime. What a great idea! I might not receive my first paycheck due to sleeping through the rest of the orientation, but still, GREAT IDEA.

Man, there is so much more to tell, but Im sure Im losing many of you with my ramblings...I prolly (yes Im an English teacher) wouldnt even read my own e-mails, so no hard feelings. So some other things summed up:

1. Nuit Blanche (White Night) was last night.....full moon...all of Paris stays up all night to run around in the streets drinking until the sun comes up and visiting different points of interest where there are art installations. Very cool. Very tired.

2. Roomies are great! They threw me a mini traditional French dinner party with about a million courses: 1. l'aperitif (cocktails) 2. potato dish 3. more veg 4. meat 5. salad 6. cheese 7. dessert plus wine equals almost sleeping through work the next day. Word to the wise: Running in Birkenstocks should not be attempted for long periods of time.

3. French bands that cover American hits= HILARIOUS

break-sit at a cafe for hours-wire yourself with un chocolat chaud or une cafe decaf. People watch and talk philosophy. (this is not done in french)

4. My French sucks. My English now sucks too. My mind is scrambled. Me not know what going on anymore.

5. Work schedule: Friday are full, Tuesdays and Wednesdays are half days. Hmmm...re-application form please!

6. Many people often wonder why French women are so skinny. This is very simple. They walk approximately 1,000 kilometers a day and they eat cheese with butter and creme. Try taking more than 5 bites and actually swallowing. Yeah, good luck with that.

Anyways, Im having a ball. Im meeting new peeps, enjoying my job, and really loving life right now. It is just one of those times when everything seems to be falling in the right place. But thank goodness for skype....I miss you all especially Mom and Dad! My roommate's family is calling my name. I think last night they were telling me about a drunken cat on top of a building but they were probably just saying it was nice to meet you. 2 hrs of studying a day is my goal. o la la! Miss you all.

o skype name: stephanie-stein

holler at a girl.

Peace

Steph

Stein-O-Mite

Stephaneezer

Stein-Time

Steiny

Schmoopie

Gushigan

or whatever else you know me by....