Well, I'm still behind on posting I know - I have yet to write about the adventures had by Carly and I in Ireland as well as England, but those posts will have to come later because the first four months of my adventures and my time living in Paris has come to a close. It's more of a mark than I ever expected it to be, and it's probably because of the exodus of the amazing people I met in my time here that made Paris such a special place for me.
I've been struggling with myself for a long time now trying to write this. Maybe it's because I've been busy on new adventures outside of Paris, but I think it also could be that once I post this, it marks that my time in Paris really is over, and it now only remains in my past - something that I'm not too sure I'm ready to accept fully. Time went by too fast.
I remember having dinner my second night in Paris by myself at a little sushi place down the street from my hotel. It was Sunday, and I was lucky it was open, but I was starving. I hadn't been eating very much since I arrived because I was so terrified of going outside by myself and the room service menu mainly contained gluten and was very expensive. But the saki sushi I had and miso soup that night was worth the walk down Rue de Lyon, because I not only was able to satisfy my extreme hunger, but I also had forced myself to break the first barrier of shyness and fear I had with the city.
I remember the first time I met Carly and how I could tell instantly that she was from Santa Barbara. I remember Astrid sitting by herself awkwardly on the couch, and thinking, "wow, this girl's a wierdo". I remember running through the rain dragging my suitcases to the Citadine Hotel we all lived in near Bastille, and Ryan and Josh's faces when us six girls walked in, soaking wet and laughing because, of course, the rain would stop as soon as we were inside. I remember meeting Alex and Austin later that night after a group of girls went out to dinner at Chez Clement, and came back to the boys pent house room after for wine and pastis.
I remember meeting Madame Aubert the first time and being so excited because we were going to have the best time ever. I shoved an orchid in her arms and we drove away to my new home on Rue Felix Faure. I remember how Monsieur et Madame had their daughter Penelope over and they all greeted me with smiles, English for the first day, and kept filling my glass with an appératif Martini and then began to pour the wine... The next morning when I left for school I couldn't figure out how to open the front door to the street. I was locked inside for at least 5 minutes, frantic because I was going to be late, and also because I was sure and second someone would open the door for me and make me feel like a complete idiot. But then I found the button, which looked the same as the light switch, but did not turn on any lights, but made a buzzing noise which freed the heavy wooden door.
I remember our first night going to the Highlander in Saint Michel, and our nights drinking bottles of wine on the seine, waving to all the asian tourists who would float by on the big tour boats with their blinding spot lights. There was one night when I lifted my leg up from over the side of the river bank to find a giant white spider connected to it by a webby thread. With my extreme fear of spiders, and its incredible size and disgusting color and shape, I immediately began screaming, though in that state I have no idea how loud or high pitched or what I might have been saying. My friends just sort of sat their, staring at me, unable to decipher what the heck was going on, until I dropped the spider on Austin's leg, when he gave a little scream, then flicked it off into the seine. I had by then curled up in a ball on the ground and was slightly crying, almost laughing with my friends at myself - my spider fear was now known.
The next spider I found one night when I came home late from being out. I peeled back my blankets to climb into bed, only to watch a stocky black spider try to escape down further into the sheets. I covered my mouth with my hand to prevent and of my screaming noises from waking up my host parents - the french don't seem to understand arachnophobia, so waking them up with my screams over a spider at 3 am probably wouldn't have gone over very well. I found a shoe, and decided to try to scoop it out of my bed on to the floor so I could then squish it, but after the scooping motion, the spider was no where to be found on the floor. I thought It had only gone further into my sheets and blankets - there was no way I was going to bed with a LIVE spider in my room. IN desperation I texted ryan "THERE'S A SPIDER IN MY BED!!! WHAT DO I DO?!?!?", or at least that's what I thought it said. What it actually said was "THERE'S A PRIZE IN MY BED!!!", which only confused him and lead to no helpful advice. Eventually I did find the spider on the floor, and smooshed the crap out of it with my boot, before searching my bed in paranoia one last time before crawling inside it and falling asleep.
I remember how in the first few weeks, every day after class we would go to an épicerie to by saucisson, cheese, baguette and wine and would head to a different park to lay on the grass in the sunshine.
I remember walking in the Latin Quarter to Rue Mouffetard and experiencing my first Parisian snow - though I was with Carly and she wasn't too excited. Since she's from Nevada, it wasn't real snow, it was half hail. But it didn't hurt when it fell, so I considered it snow still. I remember the courtyard snowball fights, and the day we got 4.5 inches in just a few hours. I remember chasing Carly from school all the way to Starbucks with a giant snowball. I somehow managed to hide it half behind me and she slowed down for me to catch up to her thinking I had dropped it - but as soon as I pulled it out, she began running again - A french man saw the whole thing and laughed as he walked past me.
I remember climbing the 1789 steps of the Eiffel Tower to the second (in french terms) level to wait in line for the elevator to the very top and not being able to see a single thing because the tower was consumed by a snow cloud.
I remember going to the 'green awning' every day for lunch, then moving on to the Pheonix D'Or, and even giving in to restaurant universitaire's 3 euro plates.
I remember my first symphony, my two nights at fondue, the ballet that I went to but didn't see, and the horrible movie I saw with Carly on our last night together in Paris - or so we thought.
I remember having to say goodbye to all my new friends, and hoping that we all really would stay in touch.
Every single moment I spent in Paris taught me something. It may be impossible to remember each moment, but I feel I haven't forgotten a single one, nor will I ever.
I will never forget walking to the metro from dinner at my Aunt's apartment. I came to the Champs Élysées to find it deserted and dark, but incredibly beautiful because of the white-blue christmas lights wrapped around each tree, framing the Arc de Triomphe with it's steady golden blaze upon the grave of the unknown soldier.
And I certainly will never forget my last day in Paris, all by myself. I took myself to Café Restaurant La Source by Invalides for my favorite Cassoulet de Confit de Canard avec un carafe d'eau et pour dessert, un chocolat viennois. Then I let myself walk past Invalides in the snow, across Pont d'Alexander, between the Grande et Petit Palais to the Christmas market on the Champs Élysées. I then took the 6 line home, so I could stay above ground a little longer and watch as I went past the Eiffel Tower one last time.
