Class-on-class-on-class

Paris 7, my university for the semester.

 Where does the time go, yikes! It is already Monday night of my second week of school here, and my classes are half amazing half scaring the crap out of me.  All of my classes at the Madeleine Center are extremely interesting: a class on Language and Culture where the prof, who happens to be hilarious, just tells us why French people are crazy, a class on the French equivalent of separation of Church and State (they are much better at it than the U.S.), and a class on the methodology at French universities, which is actually not as great but very useful considering most of my grades will depend on large papers or presentations that I don't know how to do.  My classes at Paris 7 are another story: last week I went to three, but the history of cinema class will be substituted with a class on T.V. series and prequels/sequels, mainly because I sat in the history class for three hours and understood about three sentences.  One of the most overwhelming class periods of my life.  On Friday, though, I had a class on Hollywood cinema that was excellent with an awesome prof that I actually understood, probably because he only talked about movies from Hollywood in the 70's, with a large focus on my man George Lucas.

I like this building...

As for cultural life (teehee), I am now a member of the public pool system, meaning for three months I can go to any of the public pools (there are 38!) and swim laps during given hours, all for only 19 euros, quite the deal.  The problem is, everyone else knows it is a deal and swimming there is like swimming behind an army of kids who just learned to swim; i.e. extremely frustrating.  But I'm getting in the pool, which is great-ish.

Went to a club last Thursday night that had free entry for all study abroad kids in Paris, so there were quite the interesting characters from quite interesting countries.  We stayed out past the metro and I had to walk about three miles home, which turned into five miles since I started in the wrong direction and didn't realize it until I was at a metro stop that I know is across the city from my apartment.  I caved in and took a taxi; my feet were hurting.  Friday night I got to hang out with some seriously chill guys my age from the south of france, and Saturday night might have been my favorite night in Paris so far.  JBrown and I spent three hours hanging out in a metro stop listening to a guy from Bulgaria play guitar (he was really good) and talking to a lady from Kenya, a man from Portugal, a guy from London, a girl from Paris, and a really drunk guy from the south of France.  It was like a great dinner party with a great show, all for less than five euros since the cheese and meat we were eating were from Monoprix (the Albertson's of Paris). Actually made the metro this time (not impressive considering the party was in a metro station).

A blister I've had since day four that just grows and grows!

Sunday, I decided to check out a flea market I had read about.  I was skeptical at first, but boy was I happy when I realized it was basically the Parisian equivalent of the Orange County Swap Meet.  Of course, I didn't buy anything even though the prices were twice as cheap as anywhere else in Paris; I just didn't need anything.  It ended with me having to leave because the temp was approaching 0 degrees Celsius and my nose was running like Usain Bolt.  Also, I learned a valuable lesson: speaking with someone who is worse than I am at french is twice as hard as speaking with someone who is fluent.  I went to order a simple panini from a vendor at the Marché de Montreuil, and he instead gave me a gigantic sandwich with fries and a drink.  Confused, I just paid and ate it, and like all food here it was delicious. More classes this week, send me french vibes cause I need to be on my game if I actually plan on being able to take notes!

Like the orange county swap meet... but sketchier. And not as beach-y. Yes, that dude is picking his nose.