Guest Blog from Visiting Cousin

Hello

I am in Paris with Jess.  This is what happened in 24 hours... I have been in 4 countries (US, Canada, Germany and France) and on probably 12 different airplanes.  I missed connection #1 because plane #1 (Philly to Toronto) had a broken Jump Seat and we sat on the runway for 3 hours, arriving in Toronto at 7:15 and my flight to France was at 6:45...

The first person I talked to told me they would send my bags to baggage, where I could collect them and go to ticketing for a new flight... my bags were NOT at baggage.  The baggage help-guy said that 2 bags did, in fact make the flight and would be waiting in France for me.  Ooh la la.  Ticketing put me on a flight to France via Frankfurt, Germany.

When we were supposed to depart Toronto, everything was a go except... no pilots.  Two hours later... pilots.  Guess who missed her connection in Frankfurt?  I got a NEW flight to Paris.  We made it to Paris (ooh la la)... but the bags were nowhere to be seen.  And no one knew where they were.  So I filled out a form.

By the way, if you miss your connection, your vegetarian meal just gets discarded.  My fault for not pre-booking veg meals on every flight every possible way to get to Paris.  Thankfully, a crafty flight attendant scored me a fruit cup.

Jess was waiting (the only thing that worked out).  We took a painfully slow train into Paris, and did what MUST be done (and seems to be Jess's calling) as we are leaving for MaDRID AT 4:30 am (WAIT did I agree to this?)  Ducking under closing door-gates as the shops were closing Jess screamed (in french) "Do you sell women's underwear??!?!?  This is an underwear emergency!"...  Shop after shop for an hour denied us.  No panties at the Gap???  None at the grocery store?  What is wrong with Paris?

Finally a Target-like shop (Monoprix) proved to be the one and only saviour (as Jess just said, the panty haven)...  I now have 6 pairs of underwear, 3 pairs of socks, 1 pair of jeans, 1 bra and contact lens solution.... Let's hope my luggage turns up!

written by Angie (my cousin)

Germany or Bust

Let's see, how much do I love my boyfriend?

So much that I spent over 12 hours traveling across Germany to see him with 25 members of his family.  

Vince invited me to come visit him in Germany for the weekend for his father's 50th birthday.  Only days before did I find out that this would be a test of sorts to see if his family approved of me.  Most of this approval came in the form of a test of my alcohol tolerance.

I spent over 10 hours riding the ICE (InterCity Express) from Paris to Frankfurt to Dresden.  In Frankfurt, I discovered that my limited knowledge of German is well, very limited.  Little did I know, the words I know in German (including gift, Christmas, love, like, lame, bossy, and all the curse words) is not practical...AT ALL.  So there I am, about 7 minutes to switch trains, and I don't know how to say train in German!  So I keep saying Vo ist mein TRAIN (Note: in German train is not train) to this man and he's looking at me like I am crazy.  Finally I say I speak english and french and he speaks in French to me.  And he's like you better run it's 14 tracks away.  I finally get there and as soon as I am on the train pulls off the tracks and I'm on the way to Dresden.

About 7 hours pass and it's 4:00 and I am in Dresden.  Vince and his sister, Josie, pick me up from the train station and we take an hour drive into the countryside of Germany to a little village called Sayda, where his family has rented a King's old hunting lodge to house the party.  

I absolutely loved the party, the food was wonderful.  

I tried a couple of different German foods (including schnitzel and weiners)  and everything was wonderful.  And they made me a barmaid... well not made, but all the children (Vince and me included) were responsible for tending bar.  The only problem was that every time I tried to get some dunkel out, in came out all foam, what we call the head and Germans call the blumen (flower).   There was like a whole little comedy performance in honor of Wolfgang (Vince's dad) then he also did a bit of a speech.  For the most part, the party was just being in each other's presence and drinking a lot.  It was really fun and his family and I really got along.  Around 2 or 3, I think we eventually called it a night, we were the last ones up with Vince's cousin Pierre.

The next day we went for a lovely hike for about an hour and a half with 10 people.  It was nice to view the countryside.  Breathtakingly beautiful and it felt very untouched almost like the woods of Little Red Riding Hood.  

We left the Forsthaus around 3 and by then of my less than 24 hours with the Buerger family, I had been invited to Leipzig to stay with Vince's grandparents, to Munich for Oktoberfest to stay with Vince's family friends (Susan and Ralf), to Hamburg to visit his cousin Romy, and to somewhere where his cousin Pierre lives.  His family was very kind to me and I really appreciate it.

Sunday was spent either asleep in the car or wandering around the lovely village of Erlangen, where Vince is currently in Grad School (an Elite Program).  After almost 2 years of dating, I consider Vince and I quite lucky to have found eachother.  We both really know the other person and despite our distance neither of us wants to be with anyone else.  For the most part, I think an understanding exists between the two of us that we should do what's best for ourselves and then the relationship.  Luckily, nothing we've done has really effected the relationship.

Eventually I left Erlangen and my weekend with Vince.  Stupidly, I thought my plane left at 9:30 and discovered at 8:30 when I arrived at the airport that it was leaving at 9:05.  Dumb luck, I made it on the plane and home to Paris....

MOre pictures to come...

A Miraculous Chocolatey Event

As previously mentioned in the Pere LaChaise post, there exists a chocolate cake that will make your life prior to having it seem meaningless.

It's at the Metro Cafe at Metro St. Suplice.  It's called le gateau mi cuit au chocolat.  It is better than anything you will ever do in life.  For most of you who know me, I am not ever very quiet or calm, but when eating this cake it's like an air of utter calm (the french call this sang-froid) descends upon me.  I move as if every movement were a part of a choreographed ballet.  Each bite signifies heaven.

Trust me, I now have 4 sources who can state for the record that this chocolate cake is in fact the best that ever existed (Mom, Autumn, Ellen and Jon).... Come to Paris and I will definitely partake of this marvel of cuisine created by the French.

A Chronology of the Miracle that that took place in St. Suplice

Autumn and I pause a moment before we start....

Jon and Ellen before they commence...

Mid-bite Sang-froid

After the Miracle of Chocolate

The Chicken or the Egg....and their Belly Buttons

Yesterday Raphy posed the question of where do belly buttons come from and why exactly do men have them too?  Her reasoning behind this is that the belly button is used to feed the baby, thus it's a thing mothers should have.  And as we all know, mothers are women.  So why do men have them?  

Interesting right.  First time I had to carefully think through what I say.  So I told her that all humans have belly buttons because it's where a tube connected them to their mother so that they could get food.  Since men were once babies they had to get food in their mommy's tummies too.  

The follow-up to this question was why do mommy's have belly buttons?  Took about 15 minutes but I think the idea that we all are once babies was thoroughly explained.

Walking with the Dead....

What can I say, when in Paris, go visit dead people's burial sites.  Super cool, right?  No.  You'd think that seeing a tombstone would be thrilling, right?  Well it's not.  The only thing thrilling at the end of our adventure to Pere LaChaise was that we were going to get Mi Cuit Chocolate Cake.  

For your own benefit, I will give you a photo tour of the graves we visited so you don't have to waste 3 hours of your life wandering around a big hill filled with bones (there are no direction although they were nice enough to number the "famous" graves, not that that really helps you much), it's really not that exciting and it's sorta creepy when you actually think about it.  

I really don't understand the touristic draw. NOW if there was a trip that played laser tag or paint-ball in the cemetery I totally could get THAT!  The only grave that was at most passably enjoyable was that of Oscar Wilde as at least his was interactive (you're supposed to kiss it) I don't know why, maybe he wanted to infect the world with herpes.  But nonetheless, I kissed Oscar Wilde's tomb woo freaking hoo.  

NOTE: Blogspot is being lame so I can't load the other 4 photos, that's right we spent 3 hours in a cemetary and only saw 4 famous gravesights.  We saw tons of graves but really it doesn't impress me much.  The best thing for me was that one grave said and I quote "fantasmagorie"  I really don't know what it is BUT I know I want that word on wherever I am put when I die.

I am preparing Autumn for her big kiss with a big stone....

Finally Autumn decided to give Oscar a big KISS...

Edith Piaf's Grave which you can barely see do to all the flowers and people crowding around.

The Door's Frontman Jim Morrison's Grave...shoved between about 6 other tombs and you have to do yoga to even see all of it

That's what you can spend 2 hours looking for in Pere LaChaise...a big stone to kiss, some graves you can barely see either covered by flowers or hidden behind other graves,

The Falafel to Rule the World

You haven't had falafel til you've been in Paris to L'As de Falafel, otherwise known as the gods of Falafel.  I thought Pita Pit was delicious, BOY, was I wrong!

   

Not only are you given a delicious warm and round pita whose light brown exterior smells of the pita made in heaven by God himself, but inside they combine the most wonderful varieties of Middle Eastern food to make your mouth water, seriously, bring a tissue to wipe it.  

*First, let me tell you, DO NOT GO THERE HUNGRY!  Go there 20 mins before you will be hungry as you will have to get a ticket to then wait in line to eat inside.  There's a nice man who points at you and says Are you American?  and then proceeds to hand you a ticket that says come back in 35 mins.  See all the people in the picture to the left?  They are waiting for the delicious falafel... Toujours Imite jamais egale (Always imitated, Never Equal) That's their motto, and it's true DO NOT be tempted by other Falafel vendors.

*Second, EAT INSIDE!  I mean it's cool to take it out (Emporter) but it's not the same joyous experience.  The atmosphere is similar to a chic citrus diner filled with bustled movements and fast talking Middle Easterners.  And the smell is out of this world....

*Don't get the lemonade, it's too expensive (4.50 euros) RIP OFF.

*Savor each delicious bit of falafel ball goodness.

Unlike any crappy thing you get in the States, these pitas are LOADED.  Enjoy at least 6 falafel balls, all lovingly cooked by the creepy guys behind the counter.  Devour the freshly grilled eggplant.  Let your mouth water with the delightfulness of the Baba Ghanoush.  Sensory overload, as you delight in the creamy hoummus texture juxtaposed against the crunchy fresh cucumber slices jumbled with red cabbage slaw.  The final topper on this Middle Eastern Ambrosia is the addition of what I can only call Tzatiki of the Gods, a Hebrew Ambrosia of sorts.  Every single bite of that delicious godly creation I can remember..... oh how I wish I were back in the Marais.  This is how you will look if you eat there...ravenous, like a wolf.  I would kill anyone who came near my pita...seriously touch my pita and die.

Seine Walking and Statue Seduction

After our lovely picnic, we decided for a photo op on the Seine and in the Tuileries...

What a beautiful day....

Squinting in the sunlight with an extremely pretty Autumn and Ellen

I like to ruin pictures...

It took me awhile to get on this pole..

Now comes the seduction of a statue in the Tuilleries previously assaulted by me in 2005...

First Autumn teases her with a good old fashioned tittie twist thanks to Christophe and 18th century French Art

Next Jon gets frisky and just goes for the general booby grab

Ellen eventually makes the lady lay down with her

And I of course conquer her (notice the placement of my foot)

Ellen couldn't resist this statue, even when a bunch of little children walked by staring at her she remained in her pose.  She's an excellent model.

Jon and Ellen being cute again in Paris

Stopping for a Picnic in Paris

When in Paris, do as the French, right?  Non!  Do as the Parisians.  So during the most wonderful weekend of my life, Jon, Autumn, Ellen and I had a delicious cheese and bread picnic in a lovely little park (which thankfully no dogs were allowed in)

If you, my readers, come to visit me ever, I will make sure to do just that, by hitting up the local market, buying some delicious fresh bread and even more delicious than the bread chevre (goat cheese)

Here is a photo chronical of all that happened...

Autumn and I are "penseurs" outside of Place de la Sorbonne, obviously DEEP in thought

Ravenous Wolves when it comes to bread and cheese...I appologize for my ugglies but they are warm and comfy

Three pretty girls posing mid-bite

All of us posing on the cool "open book" benches

Jon and Ellen being all types of cute in the city of LOVEEEE

Romantic Autumn and Jessie Picture (You wouldn't believe how hard it was to get Autumn to kiss me)

Today I have become a French Person

I have a bank account in France with BNP, and I deposited my first check into it.  Crazy right?  All I know is that the French are weird with their banking system and I dont understand it, pas de tout!  There is some crazy time stamping machine that I have to use when I deposit the check, I didn't know what to do so I went and asked a man to help me and he just took the check from me, and said it would be available tomorrow... I guess we will see.

Also to officially make myself even more of a French resident, I bought a cell phone plan (forfaits bloquee) I have 1 hour worth of phone calls that I could make for 17 euros a month.  I also got a free chocolate cell phone for no reason, which was pretty cool, and 720 free texts for the next 12 months... we'll see how fast that goes.

So anywho, I feel as if I actually belong here now with my cell phone and checkbook in hand!

It's Called Having FUN!

I just had the best weekend ever!  And this is only the first night of the weekend!

I am so lucky as to have TWO friends who happen to live in France with me!  Both Jon and Autumn studied in Paris with me and now both of them are working as assistants in France.  Jon lives in St. Etienne which is close to Lyon and Autumn lives in the north near Stausbourg in a place called Nancy.  

Both of them decided to spend this past weekend in Paris.  Luckily for Autumn and me, Jon brought his truly wonderful girlfriend Ellen with him.  Everyone didn't get in til late, but we managed to make up for our late start by hitting up the 10 bar (le dice) and drinking some very delicious sangria with my buddy John.  Though the bar was fun, we had some annoying french people next to us who actually tried to SHUSH us in the middle of a bar.  I mean there are places you are supposed to be quiet (libraries, churches, museums) and then there are places you are supposed to be loud in (raves, nightclubs, strikes, and BARS) so of course, our own Captain Obvious (with a british accent) screams at said French man "IT'S CALLED HAVING FUN!"  Thus the theme for the rest of Friday night...

Things that were attempted Friday night to "HAVE FUN" include Ellen riding a motorcycle.....

Me "riding" a scooter......

then continuing to walk away while the scooter lays on the ground knocked over by the crazy American.  It's alright Jon fixed everything!

Superman Faces.......

The "Fun"High Five.....

Tequila Shots?....

Beer pong.......

Pictures around a Fountain....

Pictures in a Fountain.....

Clueless French Man.....

Me yelling at a Clueless Frenchman.....

Playgrounds Cost 4 euros in Paris

As commented before, playgrounds should NOT cost money... Paris is basically stealing from tiny children.  I guess in Paris poor kids aren't allowed to play, they must work so that they can earn 2 euros to go on a slide...

I mean the playground was cool, but I have personally seen way better, FREE American playgrounds.

Raphy and I also agree that red heart lollipops are deceptively tasty....