brrrr

because it is so cold here. I thought I had left cold weather behind me in cruel Boston, but Paris is a different genre of cold. As my flatmate Alex puts it, it is a cold that chills your bones, as banal as that phrasing is. It's quite insidious, a subtle seeping of coldness into you. Even the weather mirrors the city in its subtlety.

Some interesting things have happened, though not many.

Scenario 1 (At the 3 Ducks Hostel)

Jen Kan (visiting from Harvard) and I are at the hostel accessing the internet. Scene: smoky, steady stream of chatter all about, dimly lit pub-style setting.

Me (typing furiously on gmail).

Random guy at next table (in French, translated): Hey, do you live here?
Me: Yes, I live in this neighborhood.
Guy: What are doing here, blahblahblah
Me: blahblahblah.
...
Guy: So are you Chinese?
Me: Uhm, yes, I was born in China.
Guy: So my friend here and I made a bet. I said you were Chinese, and he said you were Japanese
Me: Uh...ok.
Guy's friend: I thought you were Japanese because Chinese people have yellower skin, and your skin is pretty white.
Me: Er..ok. I think my skin isn't that white, but thanks, I suppose

Uh huh. Very funny.

Scenario 2 (In the middle of an intersection next to my apartment)
Hot French guy in car pulls up to light.
Kate stares intently at hot guy because he is hot (obviously)
Hot guy turns his head, notices Kate staring blatantly at him
Kate continues staring
Guy starts driving past intersection slowly, Kate still staring
Guy STOPS completely in the middle of the intersection, sticks his head out of the window towards my direction.
I burst into laughter along with Jen. Hysterically.
Hot guy keeps on staring.
Jen and I saunter off, clutching our tummies.
Hot guy still craning his head, stopped in the intersection.


You see, these are the such wonderful moments, fleeting chance encounters with random strangers you won't ever meet again. Ineffably poetic.

Anyway, so my French methodology class is really hard. I don't know why they thought from my tests that I was remotely good at speaking/writing French, but we are moving so fast. We spent 4 hours discussing a short prose poem titled "The Oyster" (in French of course), and had to write an introduction, and now a detailed plan for a composition. It's so different from what I'm used to in the US, but extremely fascinating. I admire French students for being able to deconstruct so thoroughly and critically and systematically.

Imagine the poem as a plump roast chicken. We picked the bones clean. Although I'm sure French students would suck the marrow out too.

I went shopping too, along the Rue de Rennes shoe shops and at the Galeries Lafayette (imagine Macy's on quadruple dose steroids, yes!), and bought some sweaters, because I am FREEZING. Our apartment is charmingly French. Which means charmingly cold, especially in the bathroom. I can't believe I didn't even bring a sweatshirt!

Jen and I are going to Rue de Rivoli and la Samaritaine for some more shopping, and if all works out, I will ACTUALLY go out today. I've been threatening to all week, but have been so busy.

Tomorrow is Chinese New Year, so happy new year everyone! I'll be having dinner with Dongbo (from Harvard) at his French friends' apartment, so yay for celebrating!

bisous to all!