Super-Duper Wacky n' Tacky Euro Adventure

at my favorite cafe - Malongo - to recharge the system and try to get some crucial work done. Yesterday not much of anything productive was done, so I have the overwhelming feeling of guilt that usually accompanies the ending of each quarter. Except that this feeling has a particualarly French tinge to it. What does that mean? Well, it's kinda of like living in Paris in general: you really have to plan your time out well because you simply can't get many things accomplished in the day. At least one can't accomplish "errands" like you would in the US. Like today, I am on my third task right now (sitting down to work) which makes this one of the most productive days I 've had in awhile, as I've already met with my internship tutor, coveted the polo shirts in Galleries Lafayettes (doesn't really count as an errand), and recovered the my lost bag at the centre de objets trouves. Now simply consider that today is nearly a month since I put in my lost item file and that this was my third trip to the centre, and you get an idea of what a productive day this has been. Now, this is not to say that Paris is anything like Moscow. Not at all. I would never plan on doing more than one thing per day in Moscow. I would simply be fooling myself.
Well there's nothing else to really report today besides my unusual efficiancy. Except that yesterday Johnny introduced me to the wonderful world of Xiu Xiu: an indy band from the bay area that was playing an excellent venue here on Oberkampf. Today not as much fun, but still keeping the mind productive. This is a trend that should hopefully continue throughout the weekend. Tim and I did the math yesterday: About 30 more pages to write in French before the end of the quarter. Better get going.

to put up a couple a stolen pic or two from Barcelona. Gee, how I miss that place. So care free. No homework. No teachers or internships. No matter if the sun comes up while you're out at night.
This one is from the nice stranger that layed down on the floor for us just to get a great shot. What a trooper.
So the cat is not being a huge nuisance like she was when she first got here. Mostly because I've indefinitely kicked her out of my room. Which is a shame cause she's really cool and playful. If she were a dog I'd be all about it. But to no avail, I must kick her out for the sake of my poor sinuses.
It took me all day Tuesday to recover from the wreck that I was after seeing the sun come up just to see my boys lose in overtime. Who needs class anyway?
This one is from the beach. Even though it was absolutely freezing, it was nice. That is going to be the only beach I see for a full year! This cannot be. I miss those gulf coast beaches with their beer cans, cigarette butts, and hot-tub-temperature waters.
There is a chance of me actually getting paid (poorly) this summer in Moscow. Of course because it is Russia it would be "sous la table" as we say here in France. But I'm totally cool with that. As long as I get something. Toes and fingers crossed for this opportunity to work out.
This last weekend I was hanging out at the Fondation des Etats-Unis (where all the kids in dorms live) and I was getting a little lonely for independant life. Not that I'm not grateful for Mme Contesso's cooking (which has been on time the last two days!), but I'm much too independant of a person to have to tell people when I'm gonna be home for dinner. Plus the awkward small talk as I'm still asleep in the morning - is it really necessary? Just a little bitching before the apartment life begins this summer - thand God. Anyway, there was this big concert of awful French hip-hop that all the students were at on Saturday night. It was such a college event - big stage in front of an ivy-clad building playing to inebriated college students who really don't care more than they finally have a place to communaly drink on a Saturday night. I was very glad to crash the party. I was also just a bit jealous at all the international friends my friend Chris has made. As I made fun of all the people who only frequent expat hangouts and chill with Stanford kids in Moscow, I have done little but that very thing here in Paris. It's too easy. Especially when anyone who hears an accent switches immidiately into their flawless English they learned in school. Although it's difficult sometimes, I really enjoy when my maitre de stage will refuse to speak English to me; even in confusing business French. Little time left to remedy the situation, but I'll try as hard as I can.
After writing the most diary-like entry in awhile, I think it's time to quit procrastinating and get back to my stupid internship report due at the end of the quarter. 30 pages, twenty hours a week, 5 units, and no compensation. Vive la France!
Alright, maybe one more pic.

5:15 AM and I feel so desperately cheated. If nothing else, than by this "NBA Radio Pass" I bought that is supposed to be good through the rest of the playoffs. I'm now officially boycotting the NBA.

as hard as I can to really be nice and let Mme Contesso slide in her dinner duties like she has for the past two weeks; It's 9:40 and I just got done with dinner. But it's ok, because there was a tragedy in the family and I am a very caring and understanding individual. But now her mom has come to stay for an indefinite amount of time. It's not her at all. I actually find her very polite and entertaining with her stories and impeccable upper-class French accent. She tells me about that one terrible time she had in Moscow, where she was forced to bring biscuits and champagne from France because "there's nothing to eat in Russia!" She finally got the date when she last visited to somewhere around two years before the wall fell. Excellent. No, the problem is her cat. Now, there was already a cat I had to deal with - Martini. But Martini just kinda chilled generally and crashed my bed every week or so. Now Felicia has come into my room at least seven times in the last 36 hours as she has to make her presence known. She likes to play. She likes to rub against my clothes. She NEVER sleeps. Oh yeah, and I'm also allergic to the little hairball - even with constant Claritin in my system. Here's her worst offense: so not only does she first jump on my dresser and then my bed to join me at 4am this morning, but she also has a little bell just as a courtesy in case I wasn't awake before that damn ringing. I finally take some action and shove her off my bed and in the process, my laptop sitting beside me suddenly becomes a grand diving board for the furball and tumble goes the computer. Well, as you can tell it's alright, but I don't know how much longer I can take this beast. So I don't know whether to kill the feline or break down from hunger when it's nine pm and I haven't been fed. Maybe I just need a nice compassionate semi-senial old lady to feed me and entertain me with stories. That would be much better than doing all the work that's about to kick my ass. But for now I can only dream.

Game seven. Go Spurs.