Day 12: Joyeux Anniversaire, Matt!

Listening to: "Joyeux Anniversaire / Happy Birthday" performed by the Minions from Despicable Me

For once, I'm not going to talk about me! I can hear your collective sigh of relief. I'm sitting in a classroom at 8:15 am even though my class starts at 9:00 am because now I've overestimated my commute time. Ah well. 

At this time, the DC Metro would be mobbed. Nope. Not here. I'm thinking the morning rush starts now or even in an hour. Craziness. How much do French people sleep?

So today my dear friend from George Washington University, Matt DeMartino, turns 21. Fortunately, living in Paris allows me to toast him in complete legality. So enjoy your day, and hopefully Zhana will be able to keep you in line.

Also keep your alter-ego Ben in check. And go hang out with Audra! (That's you, Jamie. You guys both assigned new names to one another.)

Two dishes of edamame and spring rolls sated me last night. Amazing what a good night's sleep and food can do to your attitude. I'm only realizing now, though, that I make quite a racket in the morning getting ready. It sounds insincere, but I only feel bad about having a roommate because I am terrible: I talk in my sleep (yell, more like it), sing off-key constantly, talk to myself like a deranged nut (especially when technology is not working with me), take up an insane amount of closet space, and listen to videos about International Healthcare Systems before going to sleep. 

Then, tonight, my Bluetooth headphones decided it would be appropriate to start bing-ing every ten seconds, sending me in a frantic search around the room. It was just like watching a dog chase his own tail, I'm sure. I hope what I'm not providing in quality living partnership I'm providing in entertainment at my own expense. 

I have quite a gap between classes, so I am not exactly sure what to do about that. If I had that at GW, I'd "pull a Jacob" (AWM slang for "sleeping between classes and completely missing the next class"). I don't think it's acceptable to sleep in this building, however. The library does have a bed--well, a mattress. A cot is actually probably the best term. Maybe I shouldn't mention that, otherwise the GW students will petition like crazy to get a bunch of them ordered for Gelman during Finals Week.

I also figured out the Starbucks Mystery: why are all these gosh darn Americans drinking Starbucks coffee when Parisian cafés are literally on every corner? It's because European coffee quantity quite differs from America's. They're into splashes of espresso here: tiny cups for tiny shots of energy. Americans prefer their venti Starbucks mocha caramel peppermint twist stick lattes, extra sugary and most importantly, extra big. I get that point. That's how the Americano came to be after all. So good things can come from cultural fusion (notice that I didn't say WWII). 

What else have I pondered? I can't remember. Nicole pointed out to me yesterday that walking to the Line 8 Metro station Boucicalt makes far more sense than taking Convention, transferring to Condore, and then arriving at La Tour-Marbourg. I could just make my journey like ten stops shorter if I used my legs. Unfortunately, my frazzled morning self could not remember such good advice. I guess I even had enough time to walk to school, but after all the trouble I went through for that Navigo card, I'm going to use the Metro every chance I get. 

For DC people, this whole Boucicalt vs. Convention station thing is like if you took the Orange/Blue/Silver line to Rosslyn, hopped on a Circulator bus, and then rode that bus to Georgetown. You know you're from DC when you find yourself laughing or shaking your head at that proposition. I guess it's the same idea when in National Treasure, they go straight from the Archives to the Lincoln Memorial in back-to-back shots. You'd so have to hop the Yellow/Green line to the Orange/Blue/Silver line, and THEN you'd have to walk to the Memorial. This is why people think they can walk from the Capitol to our campus in 10 minutes. And, yes, I apologize for breaking your feet and spirit that day, Edwin Lee.

That really unnecessary tangent aside, I hope to get some of my Blackboard and syllabi stuff worked out. Right now, I'm playing a tiresome game of e-mail tag to find the right English professor who can sign me up for a special permission Folger Theatre seminar class next semester. Phew. I'm always going to be It. (And no, I don't mean THAT It. Je ne suis pas de clown qui adore sa tronçonneuse. Oh, the things I've learned from Basic French II Round Robin stories and the aggravating, inane Google Translate tool.)

It's almost quarter to nine. Where is everyone??? Do French students come to class? Actually, we don't really have a lot of French students. Do any students come to class? Our Real Analysis midterm and final would suggest not, actually.