WE ARE SO GOOD TOGETHER.

Well, if a miracle occurs within the next eight days, I shall be settling into my apartment in Paris as you turn your calendars from February to March.  You know when everything’s going really well, and you’re almost afraid to be happy because you feel as though maybe you’re not entirely deserving of all of this happiness, and you’re convinced that something must go wrong for balance to be restored to the world?  That’s me right now.  Who knew being a well-traveled 20-year-old with dual citizenship could ever be a disadvantage, eh?

While I anxiously await this long overdue security clearance, here are some photos of the Parisian life I was living last year and that I hope to be living again very soon.

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Métro. Boulot. Dodo.

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Can you tell I had a cold?

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One of my favorite sights.  Everything in this picture.

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Tame Impala!

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So happy.

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Bisous.

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Insatisfaite.

Maintenant que je ne suis plus à Paris (j’y reviens en février, t’inquiètes pas), je me rends compte qu’il y a beaucoup de choses dont lesquelles je n’ai pas pris des bonnes photos.  Particulièrement, l’Hôtel de Ville.  Je n’ai quasiment aucune photo de ce bâtiment magnifique.   Donc, ce poste va servir comme un petit rappel de prendre plus de photos de ces endroits quand je suis encore à Paris l’année prochaine.

Alors voici les endroits où il faut que je prenne beaucoup plus de photos.

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Bisous.

Chilled dimanche à Paris.

Saturday night was spent mostly outside in the cold wandering the streets, although the two bottles of wine German and I chugged outside Hôtel de Ville earlier  kept us warm, or at least kept us unaware of how cold it truly was.  So Sunday we took it down a notch, slept in, rendez-vous at Sugarplum Cake Shop – a really cute café near Cardinal Lemoine whose playlist I really regret not inquiring about.  I was, however, able to recognize bands like The Kooks and Washed Out – the makings of a great coffeehouse playlist, obviously.  I was totally un-European and ordered a hot chocolate.  I will admit, I don’t like coffee.  I can drink it if it’s got buckets of milk and sugar mixed in, otherwise, I can’t get it down me.  The taste is just not for me I suppose.  I have, in fact, admitted this to French people (one of whom was my boyfriend) and they didn’t shun me, but I do try to keep it on the DL when I’m in Paris.  Who the hell goes to a Parisian café and orders a hot chocolate??  Me, apparently.

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Pascal, her roommate (whose name I have forgotten – sorry if you’re reading this, which you’re most likely not), and Juan joined us.  The plan was to do homework.  We told stories of drunken nights along the Seine and failed attempts of getting into fancy clubs.  Then three hours had passed, no homework had been done, and we were all getting a bit peckish.  We packed up our stuff and headed to the Marché Franprix down the street to pick up a few ingredients for our Sunday night dinner, which German had kindly offered to cook.  German is quite the cook – if you’re reading this, I want you to make me your potato curry again when you come to Paris next summer.  We headed back to Pascal’s apartment carrying bags of pasta, a block of cheese, a small box of ham bits, a bottle of milk, and three baguettes.  For good measure.

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Just casually passing by the Pantheon on our way home.

German effortlessly whipped up an absolutely delicious meal for the five of us.  In true Rosie fashion, I went back for seconds before I had even finished what was already on my plate.  I was completely stuffed halfway through my second helping, but feeling guilty, I slowly shoveled in the rest and washed it down with a mouthful of Orangina, the good stuff!

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Three pieces of bread for Rosie!

We spent the next couple of hours passing around Pascal’s laptop and showing each other good music.  Good music, pasta, bread, friends, Paris – what else do you need?

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Juan about to try some type of Swedish food that comes out of a tube (Pascal and her roommate are Swedish).

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At least we can walk off that meal!  Wait, that only works if you’re climbing the stairs.

Bisous.

Il faut se dire des belles choses qu’on gardera pour plus tard.

Recently I’ve been getting into Fauve.  Fauve is a French music group consisting of five main members.  If you listen to their stuff, you’ll see why I would find it hard to describe their style.  Basically, they make simple (but dope) beats and then speak over them, sometimes singing as well.  I had heard of them earlier this summer when FNAC hosted a free four-day concert in front of Hôtel de Ville in Paris.  As you can imagine, I was extremely jealous of the Parisians that had the chance to attend – Hôtel de Ville c’est mon endroit préféré!  Instead, I spent all four nights in bed browsing the #hoteldeville tag on Instagram, watching videos of the performances and double tapping any photo that featured the magnificent Hôtel de Ville itself.  Bref.  It was only this past weekend that I actually heard Fauve for the first time.  A friend from Paris came to visit (Andrew), and played their EP “Blizzard” for me while in the car on the way to the One Direction concert.  I was instantly hooked.

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This isn’t Paris, but I really love this shot from the 1D concert.

I’ve had Fauve’s EP on repeat since Saturday.  It’s Thursday.  Their music is calming, but catchy à la fois.  Their lyrics are insanely brilliant.  And to top it all off, c’est tout en français.

I am completely and crazily in love with the French language.  It is so beautiful.  I learned so much about the pronunciation in the phonetics classes I took while I was living there.  Things like the French ‘r’, the difference between “ou” and “u”, the difference between “en”, “un”, “in”, and “an”, liaisons, enchainements, the rhythm of a sentence  – tout ça.  It’s hard, yo!  I’ve definitely improved, but in no way am I anywhere close to sounding like une vraie française.  So for now, I’ll keep practicing, and I’ll continue to listen to Fauve in my car with a huge smile on my face in awe of the effortlessness with which the French speak.

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In phonetics class…

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Andrew.

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Texting when I should be speaking….

Bisous.

Quoi faire…

Quitter Paris, c’est vraiment la merde. Quitter Paris quand on a trouvé des amis sur lesquels on peut toujours compter, quitter Paris quand on a senti l’amour pour la première fois, quitter Paris quand on a trouvé le vrai bonheur, ça c’est pire que tout. Et pour moi c’est la vie. J’habitais à Paris depuis le début de septembre jusqu’à la fin du mois de mai. Je suis chez moi aux États-Unis maintenant. Je m’ennuie à mort. Il n’y a rien à faire. Je n’ai pas de travail – pourquoi essayer de trouver un boulot si j’y travaillerais seulement pendant deux mois ? Personne ne va pas m’employer. Alors j’attendrai l’automne, quand je serai à l’université et peut-être je peux travailler dans un petit café sur le campus, ou même apprendre le français aux autres étudiants !

Je vous laisse avec quelques photos de mes endroits préférés à Paris!

 

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Au top de l’Arc de triomphe – une belle vue de la Défense.  J’ai fait beaucoup de bons souvenirs là.

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Hôtel de ville ❤

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Place de la Concorde.  On peut voir tout depuis ici.  La tour Eiffel, l’Arc de Triomphe, l’avenue des Champs-Élysées, Madeleine, le jardin des Tuileries.

Ah Paris, c’est beau!

Bisous.

Micky’s in the Marais

Is it possible to eat too many fries?  The answer you’re looking for is ‘no’.  Micky’s Deli, located in the Marais, clearly agrees.  Order one of their burgers and you get a carton packed to the brim with golden brown fried potatoes (complete with ketchup, mayo, or both – comme vous voulez), and a drink of your choice – all for 10 euros.  Though I will warn you, ordering the same thing and choosing to eat your meal “sur place” will cost you 15 euros more.  Get your meal “à emporter”, head round the corner to the right, and you’ll find a cute park (Park Wesselaap) where you can enjoy your food peacefully.  If the park is too busy/closed, just to the left is La Chapelle Sainte Marie Eglise Catholique.  It’s a great spot – very quiet and perfect for people-watching.  Sit on its steps and enjoy one of the more peaceful spots in Paris.

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I can say that the burgers at Micky’s Deli are, hands down, the best burgers I have ever had.

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Heading down to the Seine. (Taken by German – check out his photography.)

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Also taken by German.

3 seine boys

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Dinner near Cluny – La Sorbonne, just across from Musée de Cluny.  On a partagé une omelette mixte. Moi j’ai pris l’omelette, German a pris la salade.  Trop bien.

*I just watched the Brasil vs. Germany World Cup game. 1-7 Germany. I am so sad for the Brazilians. Soyez fort Brésil.*

Bisous.