Mon premier jour a Paris (My first day in Paris)

I think enough time has passed for me to write a lengthy, rambling blog post, donc voila! Here it is. My trip to Paris begins at around 9:30 in the morning in the Saint Louis airport. After being dropped off by my dad, with my mom in tow, we proceed to the American Airlines desk, where we are told my original flight to New York has been canceled. Thankfully, the very helpful lady at the desk found me a new flight (to Chicago) that left a little earlier than my previous flight. The bad part about my new plans was that I would now have a 6 hour layover in Chicago. Spending the last hour with my mom at Starbucks over a hugely caffeinated iced mocha, we talked and laughed, enjoying our time together. Then I hopped on a flight to Chicago, which was so short that I only had time for a few levels of Angry Birds. I tried to read, but was way too jittery from the coffee. When I got to Chicago, I texted Liz to see if she could meet me since she lives in Chicago now, but she said it was too far away and she didn't have a car. No biggie.

After finding out that jenky-ass Chicago *charged* you for wifi access in their airport, trying to read and giving up again, and getting bored with Angry Birds, I decided to start drinking. At 2pm on a Friday. At almost 30 years old. Haha! I met some very interesting people at the bar, including a lady a little older than me who was visiting a dying grandmother and a 40-something British guy named Paul who was returning to Manchester to visit family. He was really cool, and over the course of drinking 3 or 4 pints of Sam Adams, we talked about as lot of stuff. He owns a Gillette factory in Mexico, and planted some brilliant and probably million dollar marketing ideas that have yet to be done in the U.S. in my head. Plus, he was a club kid in England when it was all coming up and personally knows Sasha, a gigantic UK trance DJ. So we had lots to talk about. After about 4 pints, I went to look for something to eat, unaware of the time, and almost missed my flight because I was about a half a mile from my gate when they called final boarding, full of gross food. I literally ran the whole way there at top speed, and almost vomited up the food I had just eaten, huffing and puffing for a good 10 minutes after I sat down.

The flight was relatively uneventful. I couldn't sleep, so I watched the in-flight TV the whole time. Watched Win-Win with Paul Giamatti and some terrible chickk flick with Rachael McAdams and Harrison Ford about a morning news program a la Good Morning America. The in-flight food was actually pretty good, too! I ate the beef , which was like stew meat, with mashed potatoes, a little triangle of cheese, a salad, a roll, and a chocolate chip blondie. And then they served us breakfast right before touching down that consisted of a croissant with butter and jam, raspberry yogurt, and orange juice. But enough of all this. I'm sure what everyone really wants to know is how Paris is.

Paris is pretty awesome. I landed at about 9:30 local time (2:30 am St. Louis time) and after getting my bags and hopping in a super sweet Audi taxi that still smelled like leather, I arrived outside my apartment at about 11am. I had originally thought that my landlord wouldn't be there until 1pm, so I was planning on sitting outside a coffee shop right by my place until he got there, but before I could even sit down, I heard someone saying "David?" And looked up to see Carlos, my landlord. He is a super nice young Ecuadorian guy, only 3 years older than me. He showed me around the flat, which is super small, but has space for me and all of my stuff, so I'm fine with it. And I had originally thought my apartment was above a store right on the street I live on, but it is actually out back. You pass through a little hallway on the side which leads to a quaint little courtyard with a bunch of apartments. It's very cute, very French. There's a little garden with a tree in the middle of the courtyard, and my heart gets light just looking out the window.

The neighborhood I live in is very young and very lively. Lots of younger, single people walking around, and there is a restaurant that has a kitchen window that looks out into the same courtyard that I live in...I think it's Moroccan or something...all I know is that they are making something that smells absolutely delicious right now, and last night (Saturday) they have live music that sounds distinctly middle eastern in nature until like 2am. But since last night was the first time I had slept for any worthwhile length, it didn't bother me. I took a 10 mg dual layer extended release melatonin (the ones I used to take at home were 3 mg) and slept for 11 hours. I feel 100% better now. But anyways, my neighborhood. There is everything I could ever want or need within walking distance of where I live. The metro stop is right across the street (literally), there's a grocery store about a half a mile away, a laundromat, an internet cafe, a Subway restaurant a few doors down (not that I'll ever eat there), a number of bakeries sporting absolutely delicious looking confections, and all sorts of other restaurants, from Turkish to Greek to Italian. I think there's even a sushi place or two within walking distance, which I will be trying very soon, most likely. There's also an open-air market a few blocks from my house that operates on the weekend. That made me smile. How very French!

So after Carlos showed me my place, we went out for lunch at a sort of Greek place(?). I had some kind of veal sandwich and fries, I think. Whatever it was, it hit the spot. Then we walked around the neighborhood and he showed me everything. After that, I went back to my flat and unpacked everything, took a shower, and attempted a nap, which only worked for about 30 minutes, since I was still feeling all scribbly from the flight and everything. Damned nerves! I messed around online for a few hours, tried to Skype with Liz (which was unsuccessful due to a bad internet connection in my flat), and then went out to explore Paris. I was still very nervous and feeling all funky, so I ate at an Italian restaurant, which was surprisingly empty at 7:30 on a Saturday night, and grossly overpaid for a meal when all I wanted was a sandwich 1/3 the cost of the meal I ended up eating. To solidify the point that I just paid way too much for dinner, I then went to the Monoprix, the grocery store down the street, and spent about 3$ less for several meals worth of food than I spent on one dinner. Oh well. Live and learn. After putting all my food away, I changed into something less hot and tried my hand at the metro system, without a map. I wanted to find my school before Monday so I wouldn't get lost, and I did, eventually (after walking around for more than an hour), but what happened afterward was a clusterbomb of massive proportions. Epic.

One of the Metro lines was down for repair like 2 stops away from where I needed to be, so they were re-directing people to a bus that would take them to the next metro stop. At first, I didn't know what as going on, so I got off and tried to walk the rest of the way home. Fail. I turned around after about a mile and walked back to the metro, where someone explained the whole bus thing. No one explained it to me when I asked the people around me the first time, they all just looked at me. Jerks. THEN, after doing the bus thing, I got on the right bus line, but going in the wrong direction. I was so flustered at this point, and tired from not sleeping for a day and a half, that I could barely speak French any more, but the Metro lady at one of the Creteil stops on the M6 was an absolute angel and explained everything to me. I mustered up what French was left in my brain, and she was very friendly, and said I was too, and that she liked Americans, but had a hard time understanding our French, with horrible American accents. So I knocked off the lazy American accent I had affected from being so sleepy and we figured it out. I had an enjoyable conversation with two young French guys on the Metro ride back, who were very forgiving about me not wanting to/not being able to speak French any more, and I got back to my apartment at about 1:30, after literally being on this misadventure for four hours. I'm not surprised, though...I mean, I am the person who got lost 2 or 3  (or 4) times in the two weeks I was over here the first time, and then, I had chaperones and there was a buddy system in place. Haha! But I do feel like I learned a lot, and now, looking at the Metro Map, I feel like I have a much better grasp of how the metro system over here works.

Anyways, I think I have blisters on both my feet, but I'm going to walk some more in just a minute. I need to go back to the Monoprix because I need butter. I'm going to make home-made Croque Monsieurs for myself for dinner tonight...I found sliced Emmenthaler cheese in the grocery store, packaged like we package American cheese. Crazy! I also was going to go register with the U.S. Embassy, so that they know I'm here and how to get a hold of me in case of an emergency. And the U.S. Embassy is right by the Eiffel Tower, and after last night's ordeal, I feel like I owe myself a little fun. So, I must be off, but now you all know every little thing that has happened to me on my first day in Paris. I hope you've enjoyed reading this rambling tome. Au revoir, tous!