Ballet in Paris

From time to time (wow, it is getting really hard to not think in French...good sign!), IES organizes a raffle that, if won, procures tickets to various spectacles (past examples: Chopin by candlelight, Paris Agricultural Expo, tour of Opera Garnier). The raffle question always has something to do with the event itself, so you get to learn a little bit of trivia along the way. I have little doubt that under one quarter of IES students ever submit answers to the raffle, and therefore I have won every single time. (Their loss. Seriously. They have no idea.)

This time around, the winners received the most special ticket yet: a pass to see the ballet "Coppelia" at Paris' main opera house, Opera Garnier. So yesterday evening, two friends and I got dolled up, had some wine, and headed to the Opera.

I hadn't been inside the Opera Garnier since the last time I was in Paris (5-6 years earlier) and was totally unprepared for its astonishing beauty. The regal architecture, the expanses of gold leafy sculpture, the busts of the masters of classical music, the Chagall-decorated ceiling in the midst of which was suspended the most giant chandelier I'd ever seen... To my shock and awe, however, so many of the attendees were way underdressed. I go to a fair share of operas, concerts, and ballets back home (holla musician phatha) and see plenty of floor-length gowns and fur coats. Naturally, I expected nothing less in Paris. Instead, I saw plenty of blue jeans and sports jackets. Not only that...I actually saw a person rolling a cigarette during the production, and most everyone around me was eating. Yes, eating. Some were eating ice cream, others--sandwiches in crinkly plastic wrap. I couldn't believe it. Luckily, I didn't let it take my attention away from the production.

The evening started with a promenade of the entire ballet company. By the end, it looked something like this:

Then came the ballet itself. I must admit I was not a huge fan of the story itself but the presentation and experience were lovely. I tried to keep myself from whipping my hair back and forth to the the most famous number and marveled at the dancers' bodies. (Seriously... those legs are really something.) At the end of the ballet, the applause lasted for at least 25 minutes. All of the dancers came on stage, then the conductor, then the director of the ballet company, then about a dozen others... I kept waiting for them to start calling out audience members to join them.

I left completely content and delighted by the classy evening. I'd love to go back and see whatever's next on the repertoire, but unfortunately I will probably be back in the States by then, and either way, tickets are, as we say, tres Cher.

Life's biggest questions

how do you tell if you've developed allergies or if it's a perpetual cold?

and are my throat and neck sore due to this possible perpetual cold or to the excessive "hair" swinging and head "banging" two nights earlier? (I can't help it--live music.)

So Good it's unbelievable

but that's how life is, n'est-ce pas? Either so good it's unbelievable or so bad it's unbelievable. That certainly makes me sound like i'm teetering dangerously close to bi-polar on the spectrum...but either way, I believe there's something precious about sometimes experiencing things as peaks and troughs rather than resting at a comfortable platitude. (Watch me take this back when things go ugly, as they cyclically do.)

Today was the loveliest day yet in Paris. Around 2 pm it must have been at least 68 degrees, significantly warmer in the sunshine. I sat, in total delirium, outside the Merce and the Muse with a real latte, a book, and journal. It was perfect. It was one of those moments, I felt, that I could die happy. I have always thought that to be an odd expression but I definitely felt that if I were to perish from the Earth at that exact moment, I would have gone in lightness.

Philosophy and hypothetical situations aside, the Merce and the Muse was a lovely little place to "catch up on" more sitting and people watching. Located on the outer perimeter of the Marais area, it proved to be a little difficult to locate, but luckily the day was so beautiful I didn't mind getting a bit lost. I decided, if all goes according to plan, I will move to Paris after graduation, secure a barista job at this place, and live out the rest of my twenties being hip and enviably adorable in Paris.

Immediately next door to the Northwest coffee lover haven was a spot of Italy: Mary's gelato. I mean, this place is the business. I am always one to choose savory over sweet but dear god, I could eat Mary's gelato for lunch every day. I tried to order in French but the woman at the counter insisted on speaking only Italian. If that's not the mark of a legitimate gelato operation, I don't know what is. Staying true to myself, I chose extra dark chocolate and yogurt.

If you ever find yourself in Paris, PLEASE DO YOURSELF A FAVOR and go to Mary's. I even learned how to say "cone" in Italian. "Cono."

I am almost embarrassed to discuss the rest of the day because it makes me sound like some ridiculous sham of a person ambling about a flashy city with nothing to do but twiddle her thumbs and spend her savings on delicious food. But I suppose I dug that grave when I started the blog. So the rest of the day was spent at a wine tasting convention (free entry passes thanks to a friend's host father who instead decided to galavant off in some other European nation) and an exquisite Mexican dinner prepared by dear Laura. I actually played with her family's cats outside while she made me dinner. I am a little worried about the fantastic nature of the things I have just described. let's hope shit's for real.

A holy day

Today was Macaron Day 2011. Every Pierre herme boutique in Paris (there are seven of them) and certain other pattisieres were giving out free macarons from their collections to anyone who came by. People are encouraged to donate ate the boutiques to the Autour de Williams fund, a charity that funds research into rare diseases and provides support for individuals with Williams-Beuren syndrome.

So as you can imagine, the entire experience was rather orgiastic. I met up with two friends around 11 o'clock and the trusted Elizabeth had physically mapped out our day in the city, strategically planned for maximum efficiency and macaron consumption. We hit up five Pierre herme boutiques before I decided, my bag "loaded" down with 11 macarons and my belly with four, that it was time to head home for a catnap.

here is a sample of what went down on this fated Sunday afternoon:

In other news, over the past two weeks, I...

- turned 21

- and celebrated with my IES friends, high school friends, and the lovely hannah who came all the way from Seattle

- wore a dress without tights for the first time all year and was not cold

- ate too much Vietnamese food

- showed visiting Whitties around Paris

- finally had moules frites in Paris

- enjoyed Tibetan cuisine

- saw Surfer Blood live at the Fleche d'Or

- saw the Chagall exhibit at the National Jewish Museum in the Marais

- saw the Piet Mondrian/De Stijl exhibit at the Pompidou

- had an epiphany about the Beirut song "Nantes," realizing where the dialogue in the middle of the song is taken from ("La Bete humaine")

- attended at a gay bar for the first time

- went to a movie alone for the first time ("Laura")

- read the graphic novel version of Kafka's "Metamorphosis"

- applied every song on my iPod to my life

- played more than one consecutive hour of snake on my cellphone

- got "mugged" by a waitress at the classy Angelina

- took and passed midterms

Excursion to Reims

Last Friday I got to spend the day in Reims, courtesy of my study abroad program. (Among other things, that meant, to my immense joy, that lunch was included.) We boarded the bus much too early in the morning--how am I supposed to be up at 6:50 am after a concert the night before?!--and were on our way. Two and a half hours later, we arrived in Reims, and to no surprise the weather was just as grey and unappealing as it was back in Paris.

The day started with a long-winded but chockfull of fun facts tour of the famous Notre Dame de Reims. Built after a destructive fire in 1210, it replaces an even older church in which kings were once baptized, including Clovis, the first Catholic King to rule over Gaul. The cathedral has more than one thousand statues of religious and historic figures on it, and I believe it is the second tallest cathedral in France. As a lover of Gothic architecture, being able to stand in front of and inside the Notre Dame was a gift. My favorite part were the stained glass windows painted by Marc Chagall, installed in 1974.

My other favorite part was the vast quantity of gargoyles, some of which looked like mutated tyrannosaurus rex.

After lunch (warm soup bellies were had) we moseyed on down to a champagne cave to taste the sweet nectar and learn all about how it is made. Sadly, the tour guide totally had a stick up her ass and the combination of her killjoy attitude and the disturbing video art installations in the already claustrophobia-inducing caves made for a less than stellar tour. That's okay though, I still got my free glass of expensive champagne.

The next IES-sponsored trip I plan to attend will take place in April, and will be to Giverny, the site of many of Monet's paintings. Can't wait for that one!

Most Important Update Yet

I discovered Snake on my French cell phone.

Les Enfants du paradis

Every time I see the expression on Baptiste's face when he looks at Garance, I fall in love, too.

Lunch in Belleville

Lunch in Belleville is a very, very good idea. If you are anything like me and cannot go five days without some sort of Asian cuisine, Belleville is like a haven of delicious goodness waiting to be discovered.

We took the metro down (up?) to Belleville after our morning class and clutched each others' sheepskin coats in anticipation of the food and treats to come, much to the dismay of our confused fellow metro users. Unlike the first time, today we knew exactly what street we were searching for. We walked down the street holding our breath. You know when you are looking forward to something and want it so badly that you just cannot help but think up all of the saddest/most disappointing scenarios associated with what you await? Well we walked down the street holding our breath, for what if--god forbid--Tin Tin was closed on Wednesdays?

About twenty seconds later we found that it was, indeed, closed on Wednesdays. Nearing heartbreak, we soon recovered our breath when we realized we were, after all, in Belleville, which meant we were surrounded by endless choices of delicious eats. We went a few dozen feet back up the block and settled on Restaurant Da Lat because 1) we were too hungry to walk farther, and b) it was very full, which in food lover language is a very good indication of the restaurant's quality.

We were not let down. I ordered a Thai-style chicken curry soup with a side of rice (what's better than rice in curry soup?) and a Vietnamese iced coffee with sweetened condensed milk. It was by far one of the most satisfying meals I had eaten in Paris. It gave me the warmest soup belly ever. The only way I was going to be more content was after I ate dessert.

We walked to a bakery across the street (bakeries in Belleville are way cheaper than most anywhere else in Paris) and I got a nutella filled beignet (like a donut). It was beyond good. As I had been given no napkin, I had no choice but to use the residue of oil and powdered sugar on my fingers as hand lotion.

After this unbelievably successful lunch outing (see--sometimes the closing of one restaurant is a blessing in disguise. . am I deep or what?) I decided to stick around and explore the immediate surrounding area. I walked through a street market that specialized in literally anything. I saw combs, remote controls, stuffed Pikachus, and cheese. That's right, cheese. (I saw Compte, specifically.) After managing to escape the inexplicable crowd of the "market," I happened to walk down the coolest street in all of Belleville, maybe even all of Paris. It was absolutely cloaked in graffiti and street art. here were a few of my favorites:

Kooky and stunning, right?