S&M and Our "Contact"

This week the boyfriend becomes the proud recipient of a doctorate, and a scant ten days later he is slated to begin work doing research in the states. To help with this difficult time line, the hiring company has lent us the services of a moving company called S&M and a "contact" to meet with the morning after we arrive.

The moving company has already assessed our belongings and now we have little more to do than point at what we would like to come with us. So, next week, our S&M movers will come and pack all our stuff for us, take it away, and ship it to us in the states. Coupled with my distaste for packing, I am finding their company's name delightfully apt, thus, I am very proud of my self-restraint as I refrained from giggling when the mover referred to "S&M" in my presence.

(Yes, I have the sense of humor of a ten year old boy.)

As for the "contact", he/she's job is to smooth the transition for foreigners by helping to combat culture shock. While I don't expect to encounter anything out the ordinary, being a native and all, I am curious to see how the U.S. is described. With this in mind, we checked all the options including information about clothing, culture, nightlife, etc. Besides, having the ability to consult our contact makes me feel like one half of an international spy duo, and I intend to revel in that.

Day to Day

Generally when one goes to a foreign country, they go for vacation. Friends or family join and all of them stay in a hotel and sight-see during the day. Normally, they are completely removed from day to day life such as cleaning the shower or doing paperwork.

In my case, while I am here on vacation, I am living in an apartment with my boyfriend and have been helping him finish up his thesis and pack to move to the United States. That, coupled with the fact that I have spent about three months in Paris this year, means that my life has become a bit more mundane.

I have almost run out of tourist activities. The last major one of my list is to go to Versailles, which we are going to do next week. (Yes, I am ridiculously spoiled.) I am super excited to go, France does opulence right.

As far as today, I woke up at seven am to be ready when the piano movers came. They arrived at eight twenty and were out the door in fifteen minutes. They were incredibly efficient; I was very impressed, but they work for the conservatory, so they should be good.

The man who purchased the piano from the BF arrived at nine, chatted a bit, picked up the piano stool, and money was exchanged. The boyfriend left to take care of business at the laboratory, and I then spent the next hour playing Minoto Point and Click games on the internet.

They are so adorable and cute and fun. Plus, there is tons of delightful Engrish and hilarious logic to solve the games. Not to mention, a new one comes out every week! Love, love, love. So perhaps, I am not doing what one would expect in Paris, but as dorky as my interests may be, it is pretty fantastic to have the time to play silly games guilt free.

Pizza and Paris

 

When I learned for the first time that I would be coming to Paris, I imagined romantic dinners over candlelight at bistros and creperies with my boyfriend. Pizza parlors never figured into my reveries. But they should have, because pizza is just as beloved in Paris as it is in the United States. In addition, my boyfriend loves pizza with such fanaticism that I am bereft of the skills to the express the depth of such a love.

I am fairly certain, that in a perfect world he would eat pizza every night for dinner (gnocchi for lunch). As it is,we eat pizza roughly three times a week, and I am an accomplice to my own culinary overdose.While he was writing his thesis, he deserved to eat whatever helped keep him in a positive frame of mind. Now that he has finished his thesis, it seems unfair to withhold his just desserts, pizza or otherwise.

Last night, we went to Del Arte, an Italian chain restaurant that is very popular on a Friday night. His orders show just how creative toppings are, and thus why it is easier to be a pizza addict in France. For the main course, he ordered a four cheese pie with two sunny side eggs on top. For desert, he had another pie, this one topped with warm bananas and chocolate.

Tonight, we will be ordering delivery from Speed Rabbit Pizza, which we do fairly frequently. One of the BF's friends is coming over tonight to play video games, and pizza is the perfect no-fuss, fast dinner in between Guitar Hero and Final Fantasy (or whatever they will be playing). So when in France, do as the French do, and eat pizza.

Troubles with Grammar

I am attempting to channel Brigitte Bardot tonight. The boyfriend and I are going to his friends' house warming party tonight. I've got the tousled blond hair, winged black eyeliner, and boat-necked black and white striped shirt (which the boyfriend ironed for me!) down pat. Now if only I had her mastery of the French language.

I spent most of my day proofreading the boyfriend's physics thesis. As I took the minimum amount of science courses required in both high school and college, it has been an ordeal.

As the boyfriend is exceedingly logical, he asks me to explain my corrections. I resorted to wikipedia-ing 'however' today in order to explain how it functions as a conjunctive adverb in a sentence, and where it should be placed.You cannot break up the verb and the predicate with a conjunctive adverb. You just can't!

My trouble explaining why grammar rules function the way they do reveals just how big the gap is between the humanities and the sciences. In the humanities, you can chalk a talent up to being a gift. In the sciences, you must belabor each and every potential condition that could of possibly brought that talent into existence and then explicate why in disjointed 'scientific' English.