C'est parfait.
So, I know that you were all on the edge of your seats wondering what would happen with my bag, if I would ever again see the necklace my great-aunt Sarah left to me in her will, the necklace that belonged to my mom's mom who died before I was born, the beautiful scarf I bought during Lindsey Bailet's and my trip to Prague, my Israel necklace, the letter of Nora King's thoughts on friendship at a distance, the silly Polaroid pictures of me, Lexy Winter and Eric Silver, medium-format prints of my dad and dog at the beach, the microphones for my recording equipment, my flash and lenses, or if I would have to buy an entirely new wardrobe in Paris.
Well, I finally got my bag yesterday, and I'm definitely not going to take clean clothes (or money!) for granted again any time soon.
Also, I want to tell you all about my host family. I'm living with a woman and her two daughters, ages 25 and 27. They're all really nice. I can tell because they tell me that I speak French well even though I don't, and also because they go out of their way to show me things like metro stops. The mother, whose name I don't know how to spell,
knows some English because her parents are from Ireland and she spent a year in the US in the 60s (She'll tell me more about this later!), but I've been pretty insistent on only speaking French to her and she's good about switching to English. The older daughter, Melanie, is really stylish and went to university for art. The apartment is overflowing with art (sculpture, mobiles, pottery, paintings, drawings, a footstool made of bottle caps!) from all stages in her artistic career. The younger daughter, whose name I don't know how to spell, is a little quieter but seems to be warming up a bit.
I'll put some photos of the apartment up here as soon as I get a new camera. It's beautiful. They've lived her for 25 years, so it's full of their character. I'm sitting in the living room on a blue couch right now, and I can smell fresh flowers. There are bookcases up to the ceiling on one wall, door/windows up to the ceiling overlooking the city (it's in the 16ieme arrondissement). The paint on the ceiling is peeling and there's crown molding and wooden floors. I have my own room with a shower and sink (the toilet is down the hall.. welcome to France), window, bed, desk, chairs, shelves, closet, mantel to a fireplace that's filled in with tile. The kitchen has red and white checkered tile and is really small and modern and aesthetic without sacrificing functionality (welcome to France!) and, most importantly, has an espresso machine that makes the best coffee I've ever had in my life (free! every morning!) It's around the corner from two boulangeries (French bakeries- my host mom told me the one that's a little bit farther is better, but encouraged me to try them both and decide for myself. Ugh. FINE.), a couple supermarkets, a newspaper stand, restaurants, antique shops, a really hip-looking laundromat with shiny red machines that I don't need to use because I can do laundry in the apartment for free, coiffures, and a couple parks.
I was going to type all sorts of other things about my time her so far, but I got a text from a friend of mine from Jacksonville who is also studying here with a different program saying that she found a used bike shop open (on Sunday in France? magnifique!) so I've got to run and meet her there so we can buy bicycles and ride them all around Paris for six or so months and then sell them back.
Au revoir!
Well, I finally got my bag yesterday, and I'm definitely not going to take clean clothes (or money!) for granted again any time soon.
Also, I want to tell you all about my host family. I'm living with a woman and her two daughters, ages 25 and 27. They're all really nice. I can tell because they tell me that I speak French well even though I don't, and also because they go out of their way to show me things like metro stops. The mother, whose name I don't know how to spell,
knows some English because her parents are from Ireland and she spent a year in the US in the 60s (She'll tell me more about this later!), but I've been pretty insistent on only speaking French to her and she's good about switching to English. The older daughter, Melanie, is really stylish and went to university for art. The apartment is overflowing with art (sculpture, mobiles, pottery, paintings, drawings, a footstool made of bottle caps!) from all stages in her artistic career. The younger daughter, whose name I don't know how to spell, is a little quieter but seems to be warming up a bit.
I'll put some photos of the apartment up here as soon as I get a new camera. It's beautiful. They've lived her for 25 years, so it's full of their character. I'm sitting in the living room on a blue couch right now, and I can smell fresh flowers. There are bookcases up to the ceiling on one wall, door/windows up to the ceiling overlooking the city (it's in the 16ieme arrondissement). The paint on the ceiling is peeling and there's crown molding and wooden floors. I have my own room with a shower and sink (the toilet is down the hall.. welcome to France), window, bed, desk, chairs, shelves, closet, mantel to a fireplace that's filled in with tile. The kitchen has red and white checkered tile and is really small and modern and aesthetic without sacrificing functionality (welcome to France!) and, most importantly, has an espresso machine that makes the best coffee I've ever had in my life (free! every morning!) It's around the corner from two boulangeries (French bakeries- my host mom told me the one that's a little bit farther is better, but encouraged me to try them both and decide for myself. Ugh. FINE.), a couple supermarkets, a newspaper stand, restaurants, antique shops, a really hip-looking laundromat with shiny red machines that I don't need to use because I can do laundry in the apartment for free, coiffures, and a couple parks.
I was going to type all sorts of other things about my time her so far, but I got a text from a friend of mine from Jacksonville who is also studying here with a different program saying that she found a used bike shop open (on Sunday in France? magnifique!) so I've got to run and meet her there so we can buy bicycles and ride them all around Paris for six or so months and then sell them back.
Au revoir!
posted by Sarah Beth Glicksteen at 4:37 AM
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