"Penultimate" is a great word.
But it means that Mom is leaving tomorrow. :(
To distract myself, I'll tell you about Thunder Mountain. Because we actually did get to ride it. It was getting darker and colder, but we stuck it out in line. And it was soooo worth it. The ride was much longer than any of the others, and the twists and turns were both startling and exciting. The only awkward part wasn't Disney's fault: the couple in front of us was making out as we climbed up the hill. Like, really making out. I prayed that they would get whiplash, that way they'd have to kiss like dogs in those cone collars.
Oh, and here's the Disney Dreams show.
Yet starting on March 6th, we really made an impression in the morning by...sleeping in. We were tired from all the Disney wonder, and Mom had to get packed. We had to organize all of our swag. (Sorry, guys. I'll wear the cone of shame.) Let's just say that it's an eclectic mix.
We stopped to get lunch at Harry's Bar. Since Giada went to one in Rome--I think?--I've always wanted to go and order a croque-monsieur. This was slightly complicated when I realized that a croque-monsieur is a grilled cheese with ham and more cheese (in a nutshell). I embarrassingly had to ask the waiter for a croque without the cheese, which I guess is like asking for just a hot dog bun. But he was very accommodating. My mother ordered the regular croque so I looked like a pretentious vegetarian, but oh well.
And guess what? I ordered a Bloody Mary! And I liked it! I mean, it got very peppery at the end. But that is an ingredient. (For my clueless-with-alcohol father, a Bloody Mary is an alcoholic drink consisting of tomato juice, vodka, and pepper.)
The best part about Harry's though was les murs--the walls. They had pennants! Students bring them from their home institutions. :) Like we do with Mr. Rankin!
Connecticut colleges! And yes, we sat right underneath UConn, although that was serendipity intervening there. :) Oh, shout-out to Bryan, Sam Z., Tauri, and Kristi!
Shout-out to Anna! (Deerfield)
Shout-out to Anna! Again! (Georgetown)
Shout-out to Min Lu! (George Mason)
Shout-out to Jamie's sister and friend! (Sorry, I don't remember your names. I am ashamed.) And shout-out to Andy! (Harvard)
"That train only goes as far as Tulsa." - Liz Grosse as Mrs. Owens killing her daughters' (Alyssa's and my) dreams
Shout-out to Nikki! (Andover)
...and to Nikki again! (Tufts)
Shout-out to Laura! (Cornell)
Shout-out to Maureen! (Also obvious as to the college.)
Shout-out to Molly! (Rutgers)
Since I know some people at University of Maryland and UVM, but I think they'd be weirded out if I mentioned them by name.
Shout-out to Alyssa and the rest of the Martino family! Sorry, Carly, no pennant from Sacred Heart. (Providence)
Shout-out to Katie K.! Sorry for the bad quality; it was high up on the wall. (Holy Cross)
Shout-out to us Colonials! (Uh, GW, duh.)
Had to do it.
But I couldn't shame my school by taking a selfie. Unlike my two dear friends:
Anyway, my humorous public shaming aside...
Looked for all the colleges the rest of you go to, but I couldn't find anything, and we searched high and low. It was a fun game of I Spy: American Colleges Edition.
After, we finally went to see some Impressionists, as well as the other artist cliques schools of thought like Naturalisms, Nabis, Post-Impressionists, Post-Post-Impressionists (okay, I kid about the last one). Saw my two favorite Degas ballerina paintings--of course, they're here instead of at the Smithsonian. It's fair, but still. I pout anyway.
But in Musée d'Orsay, picture-taking is a BIG no-no. I mean, wide shots, sure. But not direct photo portraits of portraits. That was disappointing. It resulted in me having to write down countless names of artists and my terrible French-to-English translations of the titles. I managed to find all the Edgar Degas paintings on postcards or posters, but there were some paintings in general I wish had copies. Like a painting of Manet's daughter with a calico cat: what could be more perfect for our family? And a bigger St. Lazare train station by Monet print? All they have are those freaking water lilies. Water lilies are great, but I much prefer his landscapes of snow. (I bet if I were home I would feel differently.) And the facsimile Degas sculptures? Those were 200 euros. Um. No.
There was another Little Dancer statue, but it was in bronze. It doesn't seem heavily advertised that we (i.e., the Smithsonian's National Gallery of Art) have the actual wax figure that Degas himself would have touched with his own hands. The French probably aren't a fan of that.
A famous Starry Night by Van Gogh was there as well, but not the one most of you are probably thinking about. That one is actually at the MoMA in New York City; I've seen it. Oh, and I've seen Monets at the MoMA as well--and even at the Hillstead Museum in Farmington, CT. Yes, Monet paintings of haystacks just like the ones in a fancy French museum are hanging in a house-turned-museum in little Connecticut. It doesn't make sense to me either. But it's pretty cool how the art goes around.
FUN FACT: The Musée d'Orsay was once a train station. I think that's pretty obvious, though, once you see this picture.
We ended the day at the Champs-Elysées. Beautiful ending to a beautiful day--a beautiful week, actually. Mom got some pictures of the Arc de Triomphe before we got into our last cab together, but she's counting on me to get better pictures (in other words, risk my life by standing in the median strip).
Au revoir, Maman. Je t'aime toujours.
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