Public Urination

I tend to associate public urination with homeless people who have difficulties accessing facilities. But, the other day while walking through a suburb outside of Paris, I encountered two men peeing on the sidewalk. It was only 6pm and bright as day. Both men were within arms reach as I passed them and neither showed signs of being destitute. Furthermore, they were in residential areas. The first man was peeing at the corner of a park nonchalantly. The second man was a truck driver who had obviously pulled over to relieve himself, a few cars down from two women who were having a conversation next to their car. Why he thought peeing on an apartment building was acceptable is beyond me. In disgust, I asked the boyfriend about it, and he quipped, "Dogs pee on the sidewalk and men pee in the gutter." Don't worry, my boyfriend is house trained, but as for the rest of the male french population, I really cannot say. Dirty french indeed.

Horseshoes and Steering Wheels

The summer of two thousand and eight, the boyfriend and I were walking around a park on the California peninsula, when he spotted a group of people playing horseshoes. One of them was wearing overalls, and at the sight the BF's face lit up like he had just seen the most awesome thing in "le monde entier".

In fact, he was so excited about it that he pulled out his camera phone and asked the group if he could take their picture. Slightly mortified, I hid behind a tree in an attempt to imply that I was not associated with him, but it was too late as they already knew.

Actually, it was very cute and endearing. The horseshoe players thought it was great that he wanted a memento of their sport. Besides they too got an amusing anecdote to tell all their friends. So, it was a win-win.

Well, last night driving on the Boulevard Péripherique, I spotted a green Mercedes sedan out my right hand mirror that's steering wheel was also on the right. I just about died of excitement. Delighted, I pointed it out to the BF and his friend R., who both looked at me like I was insane.

Apparently this is a common sight, so they didn't know what all the fuss was about. I had to explain that "This is my horseshoe moment! Think about it, nowhere, on the CONTINENT of North America, can you find a car with the steering wheel on the right side."

The BF doubted me, so we added the caveat, "Unless, they are super rich and want one for fun, but they don't count cause they're not normal." 

Street Art and Space Invaders

 

Paris is a goldmine for graffiti. Oftentimes it consists of ugly tags or initials scratched into the windows of the metro. Those I am not so fond of, but there are also beautiful stencils and bright colors that liven up old decrepit buildings and work to make the dingy aspects of Paris more beautiful. Unfortunately, while I have appreciated great street art while walking around, I haven't taken many pictures, which is something I intend to remedy.

Luckily, I found a great walking tour from the blog Invisible Paris. Even better, one of my most pressing, unanswered questions has been answered: What is up with the all the video game icons? Here is an example:

This is picture was taken from the blog Paris Street Art, which is a good resource for examples of "space invaders" and creative graffiti.

When I asked the boyfriend about the mosaic aliens I kept spotting on walls, he was very blase about it. It seems that they have become just another feature of Paris scenery for him. Which makes sense, because they are EVERYWHERE. I have discovered that they constitute an entire movement, and are spreading worldwide! Don't believe me? Here is a website that chronicles their invasion, but only features a fraction of the space invaders I have spotted in Paris. 

French Beauty Products

I ran out of soap from home last week, so when we went to the grocery store I sniffed a bunch of bottles and selected this one. It is a very strong citrus scent with a slightly masculine lemon verbena overtone.  When I say strong, I mean industrial cleaning product strong. While I feared this would get nauseating, miraculously it hasn't. Instead it wakes me up in the morning, and the scent stays on my skin after I rinse off, so for the rest of the day I smell slightly lemony and clean. Even better, it makes my skin super soft. In fact, it has been making my skin look so healthy, I've started using it on my face, and my pores are less clogged.

Given my success with the body wash, when I realized I was running out of shampoo and conditioner, I became totally excited to buy new French versions. I did the smell test again at the grocery store and mango/jasmine was the winner. I used it for the first time today, and not only does my hair smell amazing, but it is super soft and well-behaved. This is quite a feat since I have thick, dry hair with a mind of its own. But, not today. Today, I am amazingly well-coiffed.

The moral of this blog post? French beauty products are superior to their American counter-products. I am a total convert, especially given that I have bought cheap options at the grocery store. My goodness, if these are the bottom rung, how good can they get? Hold me, my knees are weak at the thought!

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.

French Cuisine

It has been about a month since I have arrived in Paris, and I have done little to no cooking since I have been here. Why bother when breakfast consists of a baguette, butter, fruit, and yogurt? For dinner, we either go out to eat, order pizza, or buy food that doesn't require much more than heating it up. If anything, my laziness has been continually rewarded as everything has been delicious.

But, I am finally taking the plunge, and intend to start making dinner from scratch. Since ingredients are different here, I cannot make what I would cook in California, so I have spent some time on the internet compiling recipes that a novice like myself should be able to handle, for which the blog chocolateandzucchini.com has been invaluable.

Tonight, after going out to dinner (Japanese), we will go to Monoprix and buy ingredients. Let's hope that I can convert grams to ounces and pounds successfully. I am not to worried though, so far it seems that French cooking is surprisingly simple. It is the presentation that makes the food look so complicated. Nonetheless, wish me luck!

Mille-Feuilles

The boyfriend brought me to Rue Sainte-Anne the other day for authentic Japanese food. There are multiple restaurants all grouped together, and all were packed during lunch hour. Luckily, we came right before lunch, so we were seated right away. Otherwise, we may have had quite a wait. 

We ended up at Sapporo Ramen (37, Rue Sainte-Anne 75001 Paris, France), and it was delicious. I had Miso Ramen with Katsudon, and he had Miso Ramen with Gyoza. So much food, I tried to eat it all, but it was an impossible task. Of course, the boyfriend managed just fine.

(As an interesting side note, restaurants do not offer "doggy bags" in France. You either finish it, or you don't.) 

After which, despite my tummy's misgivings, we split a Mille-Feuilles (custard, thin slices of pastry dough, and powdered sugar) at the Patisserie (I cannot find the name) across the street. I find a new favorite dessert weekly, but this one was so good it was a bonafide mouth-gasm. My boyfriend spoils me, and I love it!