it's the kind of thing you get when you're not looking

It's snowing today in Paris.

Not that it's adhering or accumulating, but snow is coming down and not just one or two flurries. Which I suppose is Nature's way of making up for the past two days of being absolutely, unbearably cold. Snow and Christmas are the only things that make winter worthwhile, and the week ahead looks to be the coldest we've yet had, with highs of 40 at most.

I have classes all week, including a test Thursday, because Thanksgiving doesn't exist here. The AIFS staff is holding a Thanksgiving dinner for us though, complete with turkey, stuffing, and pumpkin pie (mmm). We have to dress up to the event, which means I need to go buy shoes and skin-tone hose. I have boots and I have tennis shoes; no shoes for going with a dress. It's tragic.

This week was a bit jam-packed. I had that painting test on Monday, then a test in French Society on Wednesday, and a grammar test in French on Thursday. Wednesday night I had a classical concert on the Champs Elysee which was good for the first hour, boring the second. I love music, but those seats were uncomfortable, I was exhausted, and one song—one song—lasted an hour. These songs were written in a time when the only way to hear music was to go to a concert or play it yourself, and there was nothing better to do with your time (no listening to music while doing homework, no listening to music while you read, etc.) so these concerts were a big deal. They had to last awhile. Now they don't. I can listen to these songs on my own if I wish, while I'm on the metro in the morning or falling asleep at night. Seeing the performace live is always better, of course, but keep it shorter than two hours. Especially if you're going to sit your audience in seats with backs that point inward and are lacking in butt-cushions.

In other news, I made plans this week for two trips: one in February to Scotland (with another girl from the south—we're going to freeze!) and one to Budapest the weekend before I leave Paris for Christmas break (mid-December). I'm also in the midst of planning a short weekend in Strasbourg, where they have spectacular Christmas decorations and festivals going on from 29 Nov. thru 23 Dec. I can get a round-trip flight for $30 on AirFrance, but the taxes are what kill you. It's so worth it though. I'm so incredibly lucky to get to do all this, and experience all this. I'm hoping to visit Vienna, Prague, and Florence too at some point next semester; I've been talking with one girl who's also staying the year about a trip to Germany (Berlin and Munich, mainly). So that's my Christmas wish list: money for travel. Or clothes for the Northern European climate, which I am severely lacking in. But mostly money for travel because vain thing that I am, I do so like clothes shopping.

I learned new curse words in French, too, which is always interesting.

Friday was a walking tour of Montmartre, the hill to the north of the Seine, where one can find Sacre Coeur and the Moulin Rouge. It's an infamous artist hang-out, home to Picasso, Van Gogh, Toulous-Lautrec, and many more. Because it's situated so high up, it's windy and very cold, but offers an amazing view of Paris as a whole. I think of all the places in Paris I've been so far, Montmartre is my favorite. It's quiant, with little streets and cute buildings, lots of history, and home to the last vineyard in Paris (apparently, though, the wine is so horrible it's literally undrinkable). It's home, too, to a cabaret where I intend to go one weekend, in which there are no can-can dancers and the thing to do is sit around and sing while you drink. Supposedly a very Parisien experience, and the building couldn't be cuter. It was originally the hang-out of every n'er do well and criminal of the area; then it was bought and the new owner wanted to make it less attractive to the rough crowd. So he hired a painter (A. Gile, hence the name of the cabaret: Agile Lapin—translating to agile bunny) to paint a fluffy bunny on the front. No tough-guys are gonna go there, right? And it worked! Cleaned up the place considerably. Picasso hung out at this cabaret in his time. Gave them his paintings instead of money.

The square where the artists hang out and offer to paint you at exorbitant prices is where, back in the day, nuns used to hang people who didn't pay the tax on their alcohol. And a little further up is the metro stop Abbesses, where during the Revolution, the abbesse of the church was beheaded. The place has a morbid history, going all the way back to its name: Montmartre. Martyr Mountain, basically. It's said that Saint Denis was the first person to bring Christianity to the area of Paris, and when the people there heard of the new religion, they didn't like it or him who brought it, so they beheaded him. His corpse then picked up his own head, washed it off in the horses' trough, and walked all the way to the nearest consecrated ground (now aptly named St. Denis) and buried himself there.

Sacre Coeur is actually one of the newest churches in Paris. It was started in 1875 as a dedication to France making it through the loss of the Franco-Prussian war. It wasn't finished until 1914, when the outbreak of WWI delayed the consecration of the place, so it wasn't officially a basilica until 1919. This is what the Parisiens consider "new". The stone it's made out of looks so white not because it's frequently cleaned, but because the type of limestone gets whiter when it rains. Nifty, huh? And it's home to the largest mosaic in Europe, that covers the ceiling and walls of the center of the basilica. Like St. Paul's in London, you're forbidden from taking pictures inside, but unlike St. Paul's, you don't have to pay admission fees. This is why I like the French.

After the tour, we went out to dinner and I sampled the Beaujolais Nouveau (it was just released Wednesday night at midnight). It was quite good, though what do I know about wine other than what I like and don't? I'm bringing home a bottle to have at our Christmas Eve celebration.

Saturday, with a high not out of the 30s, we went to Versailles. Me being the resident expert on Marie Antoinette and the French Revolution, I refrained from correcting our tour guide when she made grevious errors in historical fact. Not everyone loves history like I do and I think I'm finally learning not to correct teachers when they're wrong. They don't like it much. It would take a good two full days to see the entire inside of the chateau, and another two days to see the gardens. Add two more days for visiting the Grand and Petit Trianons. The place is enormous. The chateau itself has over 700 rooms and was home to more than 10,000 people prior to the Revolution. We saw the main u-shape: the king's apartments, the queen's apartments, the Hall of Mirrors, the chapel, and the marble courtyard. I bailed before we toured the gardens though, because I couldn't bear the cold and the wind that was about to tear my face off. I get to go back in the spring anyway, when the fountains will be turned on and I'll be much more open to pulling my hands out of my pockets to take pictures.

Now I'm resting, listening to Christmas music, and eating a rasberry tart (my parents were getting on my case about eating more fruits and veggies ::grin:: ). I picked up my room and did laundry today, and I'm reading yet another biography of Marie Antoinette (it's one that I haven't yet read, surprisingly, seeing as I've read at least 5 already, plus two more that focused on Louis XVI and/or their attempted escape to Varennes). I tried to find some "French" Christmas music, but I discovered that for the most part, they listen to the same things we do: Nat King Cole, Frank Sinatra, etc. I did find a nice version of Noël Nouvelet on iTunes, sung by Loreena McKennitt. And "Oh Come, Oh Come Emmanuel" by Enya, which is hauntingly beautiful. I'm a fan of this holiday, for the spiritual aspect and not the religious. I love the feeling in the air, the music, the decorations and the general cheer. Which is why I'm in love with Paris; there are decorations everywhere, and the city is lit up at night. Friday after dinner, we went on the ferris wheel that's at the Place de la Concorde and it looks down the Champs Elysee which was all aglow. Lovely.

I'm a little homesick, and am glad to be going home in a few weeks. But I'm just as glad that I'll be coming back, because I'm not ready for this adventure to be over. I'm glad to be where I am; I just miss what's familiar (and, admittedly, what's easy).