Finally some "me" time

I had a dream that was completely in French Thursday night. It freaked me out.
I was at a lunch with a group of people, I don't exactly remember why but I think it was to celebrate the wedding/engagement of one of them. And there was conversation.
It was weird because it captured all of the awkwardness/pronunciation problems I have when I was talking in the dream, but when the others were talking, it was just normal.

I think this is my first real "French" dream. Weird... but cool.

~~

In other news, today I finally had a nice and relaxing day that was fun at the same time. After endless weekends of travels (Hamburg, Brussels, Normandy), this was much needed time. And no, I totally didn't do any work at all today, and I'm not about to start now. I'll worry about that tomorrow.

Waited in line to see the Marie Antoinette exposition at the Grand Palais with a fellow intern from work. The line was épouvantable (more than one hour's wait), and the ticket price assez cher (8 euros, and with our exchange rate at an all-time low, I don't even want to know how much that is in dollars), but honestly well worth it. I loved it -- the design of the exposition was impeccable, dividing Marie Antoinette's life into "3 actes" -- childish princess of Austria, admired dauphine of France, and finally detested queen. In one of the areas, the walls were covered in design paper that imitated the gardens of her estate at Versailles (the Trianon). That area led to a beautiful painting of the Temple of Love, another part of the Trianon. Whoever designed that exposition is a genius.
I didn't much care for Sophia Coppola's movie, but after seeing this exposition I kind of want to watch it again, if only for the beautiful costumes. (I still maintain, though, that Kirstin Dunst totally does not fit the role, even if she is ditzy enough)

The afternoon went by in a breeze. The fellow intern bought an electronic cigarette -- I didn't even think that was possible!! She showed it to me, and it looks like a very elegant pen. Apparently, there are cartridges that you load into the thing, which have the nicotine/tobacco in them. Except according to her, there are cartridges that don't have nicotine or tobacco. I was just confused... oh, well. Figures that the French would find a way around that pesky new law that says you can't smoke inside public spaces.
(It could almost donner moi l'envie de l'essayer une fois)

All of a sudden it was 8PM. She went home, very tired, and I was left to reflect on what fun things I could do on a Saturday night. Why, go to the Comédie Française, of course! They sell tickets at low, low prices (I had heard 5 euros) for students starting 1 hour before the start of each play. And that night Vie du grand dom Quichotte et du gros Sancho Pança was playing at 8:30 (I had marked it on my calendar -- tonight was opening night).

I'm a nerd, complètement nulle, totally agreed. So yeah, I went. But there were only 4 places left, and a line of definitely more than 4 people before me. The bells were ringing for curtain call, it was 8:20. I made some nice conversation with the German couple in front of me about the dismal state of our respective economies (you know, the whole "yeah, the U.S. economy is dying" "well, the European one isn't doing too well either" "how can you have one currency, one monetary policy for 13 countries?" "how can you have one for 50 states?"). Anyways, sadly for them and luckily for me, a woman walked up to me and told me she had one ticket that she would sell to me for 15euros instead of the full-price 20. No, it wasn't sketchy - she was with her beau frère and his wife, all nice, middle-aged, French family types. When I asked her why she didn't want it anymore, she said it was because they sent her 4 as a part of her abonnement.

So I bargained a little (10 euros instead of 15) and a few minutes later, there I was, in the theatre! Which is beautiful! And our seats (I say "our" because they were right next to me) weren't bad, either. 2ème balcon -- so up one level, but still full view of the stage.

Not to mention the play. Unlike the plays I've seen so far as part of that maudite (damned) theatre class, I would happily write a report on this play. I could watch it every week from now until the end of its run (in July) without losing interest. Maybe because I've read Don Quijote in the U.S. (as part of the best English class EVER, Western Classics in Translation) -- the play is a retelling of the events of volume II, which occurs after the events of volume I have been published and are already known. In other words, Don Quijote is already a "hero" in Spain because everyone's already read his adventures. Then this story begins. It's confusing, I know (try reading the entire thing).

Everything, from the puppets (yes, there were puppets, but not what you'd expect) to the stage decor to the acting and improvising (Mont Parnasse, bienvenuë), everything, was genius. It captured all the complexity of Don Quijote, even in translation (framing devices, romance/satire all in one) without being tacky. And the ending, with Sancho!! I loved it. If I had the time/money, I'd go watch it again.

It's experiences like this one that remind me of why I chose Paris. Nothing (and especially not a year staying at Smith) could compare. So if my GPA falls, so be it. (Okay, no, actually that's a lie. I'm not at that point yet, but I'm trying, I promise)

~~

On the metro on the ride back from Chatelet there was a bum with all these different puppets. I thought it was sort of cute until he looked at me a pulled out the Chinese puppet girl and made it say "ni hao" and I don't know what. All the while pointing it in my direction. That was awkward.

In the end, you can only laugh. Besides, he did call me a "jolie demoiselle." Rest assured, though, he didn't get a single piece of change from me.