dumb american, landladies, and ratp

(no more disclaimers. i no longer feel guilty for long posts, although i will sometimes provide summaries of my entry so you can make the decision to see if the entry is worth reading. today, no summary)

The people that manage the buildings are called "guardians," and the ones in both of my buildings hate me. I must be the worst tenant they have ever had. Dumb American girl.

Landlady 1. Tuesday night, Ann, Elizabeth, and I decided to go dancing in Odeon with Katie and her Domincan-Republic friends. We had a nice key system worked out since we were on different schedules, but as we leave, no one has the key. So the inevitable, we lock ourselves out of the flat. It is 930pm. It is almost too late enough to go down and ask the guardian for the key, but not that late to where you are desperate, you still have time to ask. We were desperate. Where were three girls going to stay? We hesitantly knock on the door, not sure what is going to happen, but know that all three of us need that key. After a few minutes of no answering after several lightly-tapped knocks, the short brown-haired woman grumpily comes out of her door. Elizabeth tells the woman of our situation and the guardian tells us that she does not have the key. What the heck? You do not have a key? You are the landlady. You have to have the key. She just stands there, tells us she does not have the key, dismisses us, and we both walk away.

I was pretty angry, but not that angry because I know all hope was not lost, but it was just a hassle. The guardian was right there, twenty feet from the key, but instead she decides to be not nice and make us (really me) suffer. I went to my work house to tell Benedicte of the situation. She was calm, did not seem angry, it could have happened to anyone, but was more concerned about the landlady's actions. She believed that the landlady deliberately wanted me to have nowhere to go and was more upset about that. poopy woman. Ok, so we stay at Katie's.

Through a series of phone calls to Benedicte, her mother, the guardian, and me, I find out that the guardian was mad because we were being noisy. It is possible, but I do not know. The walls and floors are thin, anything could happen. The music was probably the loud part, but the music that I or the girls would have played is pretty calm music: French, classical, or the Iron and Wine genre. Not that loud. And we are not roughty girls either, so whatever. My hoppin' music will no longer be loud.

Landlady 2. The streets were wet with the dirty water from early morning cleaning. The guardian set a towel outside the building so shoes could be wiped clean and dry. I did just so, and even wiped my Birkenstocks on the embedded rug inside the building. Apparently that was not good enough, for I still had strains of dirty water that tracked inside and onto the marble. As the woman watched from the time I opened the door, I was reprimanded for my actions and for the hard work she just had accomplished and now having to repeat her chores because of a dumb girl like me.

This Friday, the RATP, the metro monitors decided to check everyone's tickets. It is common that the security will wrangle the halls and check the valid ticket stubs. Plus, it is common that not everyone pays for a metro ride. I arrive at my station, having a choice between which line to take. One line was bombarded by security while the other was clear. I stupidly decide to go with the security side. I needed that route or I would have to backtrack and add an extra fifteen minutes to my ride. I had a valid month stub, but I neglected to fill out the validation forms stating that this was my stub and that I did not steal it. I thought maybe I could play dumb American, but dumb Americans do not buy month tickets. So yes, I get caught and have to pay 25 euro on the spot. damn. I am more pissed at this situation than the key incident. My money was taken away from me. Now I have 25 euro left over for the next week.

This week with the kids was really hard. And I can foresee others weeks just like those. This week was hard because my kids were sick, which made them more irritable, cranky, and sad. And I had to deal with all of that for a couple of days and had to work an extra afternoon. It was not easy and I was really stressed. It was nice having people to go home to, but by the time I came home, I was tired and ready for bed. With the little strength I had left, we went out. Nothing big, but just out on the town. Like I said before, Paris is beautiful and totally different at night, so of course we had to make the most of it. We had a lot of fun with them walking around the city and doing more touristy things. We went to the Notre-Dame (my fourth time?), walked to the Tour Eiffel at night, walked in the Tuileries Jardin, captured the beauty of the pyramids at the Louvre, went Salsa dancing in Odeon, ate crepes, drank wine and hot chocolate, it was fun. We had a bit of a missed connection on Friday trying to meet at Sacre-Coeur (my favorite in all of Paris), but it was great having a bit of home in my home.

This weekend was another recovery weekend. Saturday, Elizabeth, Ann, and I said our goodbyes as we went our separate ways on the metro. After finishing errands in the city, I returned to my neighborhood and went to the annual antique market. It was great. It had old Parisian furniture, weird nick-knacks, an array of unorganized books in English and French, jewelry, Asian and African artifacts and furniture, and so many other things. It was a good autome day in Paris and just being in the market atmosphere made Paris so much more so quaint and romantic. Yes, romantic. I loved it so much. I ended up buying some old bird and hot air balloon stamps. Send me a letter and you will get one.

Sunday, another day at church, but today I went to the contemporary service. I am not quite sure about this early afternoon service, but I will probably go again just to see if it is worth it. The time just throws me off. The messages are the same from the earlier service, but the congregation is about half the size. The members are more of the younger crowd, and while I was around people my age, I did not really meet anyone. I am still ok with that and do not know if I will make friends through church, but I am not lonely and am doing really well. (my needed Jen-time is a lot of time these days, plus entertaining guests take a lot out of you). I woke up pretty early to talk to friend Stephen via skype, so I pretty tired throughout the day. After church, I was so so hungry and thought I could get a quick bite off of a pretty busy metro stop. Well, being Sunday, almost everything was closed and I was not really in the mood for a sit down lunch. I walk around the dead city and stumble upon a beautiful church, L'Eglise Eustache. It was really pretty and the surrounding gardens were filled with families, friends, and couples. Another day lost in the city, found into something great. Then arriving home quite late in the afternoon, I took a good deep nap and thoroughly cleaned my room. The floors, bathroom, dust, vacuum. Clean! There is definitely a love/hate relationship between cleaning and me, but it is definitely worth it and very different cleaning for yourself then cleaning for housemates and such. There is much more pride in one's own home.

Single parent month. Patrice is gone for two weeks, Benedicte gone the week after. All on business meetings.

I start of school. French, get into my body and lets meet people. See you later this week. Enjoy your week.

social week

Embrace, this is really long. photographs at the bottom. 

This week was a much better work week than the last. Wednesday was bearable because we were busy with true packaged American cooking making, the grandparents, a doctor visit, and the polo club tour with the whole family. It was quite a Wednesday and I wish it was that busy every week. With that said, I am now a temporary member at the Polo de Paris Club. I would have provided the link in case you felt like browsing, but the site is for members only and I cannot get it. A members only site? What happened to advertisement? This club is known for pretty snobbish upperclass, says Benedicte, but I can see what she means: As I entered the club in my Wednesday grubby wear, I see a group of suit-wearing men, trendy-cute mothers with their children clothed in white, only white, sport apparel for sports that include, fencing!, tennis, gold, swimming, polo, karate, and a few others. And all I am supposed to do is go to the park inside the polo club with the polo pass.

On the other side of work, I have been new instructions and more responsibilities at the house. I do not mind it because I would rather be told what to do instead of feeling like an idiot for something that was not done and it being my fault. I can thank the flakey housekeeper, Cristano, for my new responsibilities. I really really dislike it when he does not come because I do not find out that he did not come until I arrive with the boys. When he does not come I have to rush to do the ironing, bed changing, clean up, organizing, plus all the regular taking care bit of the kids in four hours. Seems doable, but I am not a regular at this. Plus, I am no good at ironing. Maybe I am good at the napkins, but psh, the tshirts, I definitely add in a few more creases into those shirts. I commend those who love to iron and those that can do it well.

This week was also social week in Paris. Katie had three CalPoly friends visit Paris, Chris, Amit and Robby. They wanted to live up Paris for all that it was worth and they certainly succeeded. They were a lot of fun. We went to bars during the week and hung out at my place for a nigh. Luckily the boys happened to be all engineers, and with their great knowledge of math and physics, Robby fixed my internet at my flat. After two weeks of a subscription and a struggling connection, Robby was able to get me connected. For my own prideful sake, I followed the directions and found that the problem was beyond my and the instructions capabilities. So thank you Robby for loving computers.

On Thursday and Saturday I hung out with Westmont friend Leah Berry and her family. It was really fun to finally see Leah since our relationship is based of a lot of talking of hanging out and never really doing it. Thursday we went to the Notre-Dame, inside and out. It was beautiful and really fun, plus it was my first touristy activity. Pictures below. I was supposed to go to Versailles with Leah's family on Friday, but could not go. I would have been able to, but my au pair duties were called upon. I was already on the metro heading to the RER to meet the Berry family, but received a phone call from Benedicte asking me to take Jean-Baptiste's little backpack, his sac a dos, filled with his stuffed animal and pacifier tatine to school for afternoon nap time. I wish I could have said no, and I could have, bt if I did not take it and Benedicte would have to, I would have guilty. It is my job to be on call. So instead, I ate a guiltless almond chocolate croissant and watched an episode of Sex in the City. I do not know I really like that show, but we owned the whole series in Fresno, so it was something free to watch.

And on that note, I went on a date this weekend. I hate calling it that, but if I do not call it that, people will give me crap and I will be the girl that does not call dates dates. So it is what is was, and its over. On Thursday, I went to the fish market and tried to speak French. I could not remember how to say that I wanted the fish cleaned and gutted, as I was dying over my words, the fish guy saves me and asked if I spoke English and tried to explain to me what I wanted. He asked me lots of questions and asked for my number. I do not know my number yet, but he gave me his and I was to call him to see the night life of Paris. I always get nervous here when guys talk to me because I have no idea what their intentions are, especially in this city. Boys and I have always been friends and I like that. But now I guess I am in real world where boys will ask out girls. Katie says, I should just go on a lot of first dates so they get easier. She has a lot of good advice like that. I seriously love it, she's a pro.

Anyway, I did not call him, plus I was too tired to go out, so I text him telling him we can hang out another time. I text him the next day because Katie had a date so I thought I would make one too. After several texts, me writing in French, him in English, we were to meet up at the Notre-Dame since that morning I would be in the area hanging out with Leah and her parents. It was a lunch date thankfully instead of the intended night date. I really did not want that, not knowing his intentions. Sorry, but I was not excited at all for this meet up, I was kind of over it since I did not really like him in the first place. I just really wanted to find friends for myself, even if they would be pretend dates for me. Plus, it is not nice to hang and be dependent on Katie and Katie's friends. Just for my sake, I need to do some things on my own. Anyway, we meet up and just walk around. I really think he thought I was a total newbie at Paris and I kind of let him believe it, showing me places and monuments, as well as being kind of jerkish and saying oh I have done that before, just so that he would not ask if he could take me there. We walked around a few gardens and went through the Palais du Justice police car exhibition. Our lunch date was cut at three o clock since he had to go back to work and I went home to take a nap. He insinuated another date or hang out, but he kind of got the message and told me to either call him or stop by the fish market again. So all in all, it was fine, but nothing to even be friends. Not even picture worthy. sorry.

Saturday night I stayed in; I needed to recover from the date and the looong night out with Katie and Robby. We stayed out all Friday night since we did not want to pick up the Noctillien or pay for a taxi. We just hung out at bars and talked to people. Made friends with some Australian brothers, a cool DJ who bought us a round, and two gross black men with these attitudy US girls that obviously wanted to get more than just a drink, who believed in getting a girl then leaving her the next day, and amongst other things. One of the black men wanted my number and wanted to know where I lived and I just lied. There was no way he was going to get anything from me. Those are the types of guys I am worried about. His icky cooing and trying to make conversation was just bad and made me uncomfortable. Katie is always there and she would get me out of a situation if it need be, but luckily I snuck out on my own.

And today Sunday, I talked to my family, my grandparents, cousin, and aunt all via skype. It was quite the family gathering. Thereafter I headed to church. I have been going to the American Church of Paris, acparis.org. I like it, have not really met anyone, but I like the messages, the liturgy, the atmosphere of an old cathedral church, and its members being from all around the world coming to be at one place. I go to the traditional service with the families and grandparents, but maybe I will try going to the contemporary service. The only thing with the contemporary service is that it starts at one thirty in the afternoon and thats eat time and nap time. And fellowships are in the evenings when I work. Not the best times. I may just be an attender and have to meet people elsewhere.

This week, Elizabeth and Ann are to stay with me. It should be a good week.  

http://jenniferjchin.wordpress.com/

discovered and destroyed

This past Sunday at lunch, it was recommended that I go for a walk or a run to utilize the little sun and good days left in the city. Sure, I said, but after my nap or sieste.

The parents laughed and shared a story that the young and innocent Jean-Baptiste told them on the Saturday night as they were heading out for dinner.  Jean-Baptiste told his parents that they should not go to dinner because Jennifer is always too tired and takes naps while she works.  Whaaaat?! Seriously, where did he get such an idea?!  I do not take naps at all while I am at work, sure I am tired, but I do not just sit there lazily.  Now he's making up stories, but pretty darn good ones, considering my history and present nap-taking hobby.  The parents know I nap almost everyday, but this incident encompasses the essence of my nap-taking abilities.  Thus, discovered and destroyed.

Thank you, Jean-Baptiste. 

10 cup o' culture

while i was sitting in a waiting room...

1. madeline proust.  the french say 'oh, a madeline proust,' to signify something that reminds them of their past.  as benedicte feeds her children smashed bananas avec sucre, for her, it is a madeline proust moment. 

2. ducks say coin coin, like qua qua, but really emphasizing the qu part.

3. thermometers for taking temperatures go in the butt and not in the mouth. 

4. cou cou! what children say as hello hello! and even adults.  pronounced cuckoo.

5. no underwear at bedtime.

6. penis is a medical term. we never discussed the non medical terms, like the everyday names, but i gave them a few terms.  we had a laugh.

7. yogurt, pronouced yaaooot in french, is a breakfast, snack, or dessert. 

8. fruit is eaten as a starter dish, rarely, but mainly as dessert.  eating it at other times is weird or eating it with something like fish is weird.  

9. if there is not bread on the table, jen, go get some.

10. if you attempt at your poor french, you may get asked out on a date from the fish guy.  your poor french is appreciated over your no french at all.  it is quite true. 

ten things learned thus far.

10 frenchie foods

10 foods i like and eat often or new finds.

1. gazpacho. qctually, it is a spanish cold soup. it tastes like vegetables but with a quick and subtle bite to it. I love it. (nf)
2. fois de veau. cow liver straight up. i am up for trying new things, but this one, i could not and will not do. (g)
3. le pain. bagette or bread at dinner ev-er-y night.
4. vin. wine, accompanies the bread to dinner, every night.
5. bubble water. aka sparkling water.
6. steamed potatoes and carrots. i just eat them a lot and love them.
7. sauerkraut. i do not remember the french name, but it is a popular dish in eastern france. (nf)
8. paté. i have only had one kind of paté and its the smooth gross color that looks like its been ground up in a blender. from wikipedia: It is generally made from a finely ground or chunky mixture of meats such as liver, and often additional fat, vegetables, herbs, spices, wine and other ingredients. the paté i tried and probably will not eat again, was the chunky kind. it was ok, but i would choose other things to eat. (nf)
9. icecream. in any form, almost every other day.
10. les poissins. lots of fresh fish, but apparently a lot of people do not eat fish. special us.
legend: (nf) new find; (g) gross

+ 1 french, - 1 america. this new age for farmers markets and going local in america is all the rage, but the french already live that way. these markets are almost everyday somewhere in paris and they have all the fresh and local foods as well as flower sections and little jewelry or clothing stands. for what i cannot get or find at the marché, which are on tuesdays and fridays in my neighborhood, i just go to the one store that only sells meats boucherie, fruits and vegetables, cheeses, or breads and pasteries. there are grocery stores with mass amounts of foods, but they are not as frequent as in the states. even the store themselves are not that big, but then they have the big big ones that are the double decker kind. they sell all the frozen goods, yogurts and dairy, the like as in any grocery store. by the way, we eat a lot of frozen too. but these smaller stores thrive in paris and in france because everyone needs them and wants the fresh goods. sometimes the prices are way better, but then sometimes they arent. and it really is not inconvient to have all these little stores because they are all pretty close to each other. so i have to walk a litte, well, i need the extra exercise, especially the way i am eating. i have to take it all in, cannot hold back while im here. by the end of the year i will probably have nice round french belly. mmm...

until the next meal.

friday discussions

I am tired and slightly unmotivated to write right now, but it is important that I do because this it is the only journal type that I am keeping. I am not an avid journaler, but can be a very dedicated blogger. I like blogging and I believe it makes me a better writer. I have tried time and time again to start journals that always begin with "well, here is another attempt at keeping a journal...I know this is important for me to do...I need to really write this down and be consistent..." Too bad, I cannot do the paper journal. I am not going to justify my writings other than I enjoy doing them. I dislike to read peoples blogs and feel like that they have to do it. I enjoy them because I like that I have to think about what I am going to write, instead of splotching everything on paper trying to not sound as idodic as when I go back and read them. I like being creative, I have more recently enjoyed writing, and I like the pressure knowing that people read this. I know a lot of people do not, which does not matter, but it changes my whole mindset of a writing style. And at the end of the day, I am happy with my posts and being able to share. Plus, my Dad likes to stalk me. jk.

I thought this would be an entry to French food, but instead it is going to be a recap because these last few days have been really hard. The boys have been really fussy lately, which has taken a toll on my patience and irritability level. And I get more and more frustrated when I cannot tell them that the situation will be fine, that their parents will come home soon, or that they need to eat their dinner. As they yell and cry back, I tell myself I do not get stressed, but I do. On top of that, I have had some internal issues about my responsibilities at the house in relation with the housekeeper that does not come everyday as scheduled. Yesterday, I wish I was a drinker just so that I loosen up with a quick shot of something hard.

But instead, I ate dinner earlier to leave and meet Katie to go pick up a semi-friend of hers at the far away Paris-CDG airport. Like I said, we enjoy just having someone to talk to and thats what we did all the way there and for the extra two hours waiting for this semi-friend who finally came out of customs around 130am. And after waiting, we find that the RER, a faster and less frequent stops than the metro, is closed. So instead, we figure out this night bus system called the Noctillien. It takes us an hour to get out of the airport and another hour just into the city. It typically only takes a half hour by RER. When we get into the city, we have to tranfer to a different bus line to get to Katie's house. I was not going to go home alone at that hour. We get on the line, half hour later, oh, we missed the stop. 330am, get off, walk back to a central station. Find another transfer line, great, found it, get on, and get to Katies at 430am. So much for a quick pick up. It was quite an adventure and the city was beautiful magnified in the night lights. There was a lot of Paris that I had never seen before and a lot that I have that just looked more marvelous and in just a different perspective.

I have yet to have an opinion to believe that Paris is the City of Love. I do not understand why the city is so romanticized to be a place to fall in love or to bring your love buddy to celebrate the love that you are in. I do not think I have to have a significant other, nor am I looking for one here, but I cannot seem to grasp the concept that Paris is that romantic. I just think everyone idealizes the reputation of Paris being the city of love and just likes the idea of being in a romantic city. Do not get me wrong, but I love and respect this city for its place in history. It has beautiful arcitecture, a thriving culture, and wonderful people, but to say that it is a romantic city? I am confunded. What do you think? Is Paris really that romantic? Oh geeze, and now you probably think I will be single and loveless for the rest of my life. Thanks. I am sure I will see the city in full beauty and in full romantic form soon. I am not hopeless.

Did not see the Pope. Bénédicte saw him and said she was not impressed, thus unmotivating me to see him early in the morning. Plus, after the late night adventure, a nap was much more inviting.

I changed my title name. I was over the bodyguard thing, plus it was kind of weird in the first place. I do not know how I feel about this one either, but it will suffice for the time being.

Oh yes, one of the most rewarding days was when I picked up Jean-Baptiste at the Maternelle on Tuesday and I was greeted with a smile and running hug. It wasnt a classified jumpy hug, but I understand the pleasure from such action.

french connections

In the past week I have met a lot of French people.

The Carrousel Man. Everyday after school, the boys and I go to the park, but especially this one park because I can watch them amongst the other crazy kids and their ethnic nannies. And almost everyday we go to the ménage. I met the Carrousel Man the first day I arrived in Paris. He knows, and everyones knows when they meet me that I am an American. He says hello to me everyday we go the ménage. I speak my little French as he speaks his little English.


Jacaues Chirac, ex-president of the Republic of France, aka France. (Bénedicte reminds me of the correct French lingo). Looking my crumiest (since being with the kids all day, I do not come to work in pretty clothes), I met the president. It was pretty cool. It would be like meeting President Clinton. But when I met him I felt utterly stupid. The one time that I wish my French was great and not skimpy, and here I was meeting the president. Sure, he spoke some English, but I seriously did not know what to do or say. Anyway, that was the highlight of my week. And now that he is not president anymore, he has a philanthropic foundation. He is amazing and a very humble man.


Walking home one late night along Pont Mirabeau from I do not remember where, with my pepper spray at hand, just like every late night, a French man approaches me. A little intimidated and unsure how to approach this situation at such a time in the night, I soon become somewhat at ease at the sight of a classic French bohemian woman at his side. The man who talked to me was the kind of man that my parents were afraid of in leaving me alone in a big city like Paris. He was kind of a grungy dirty man with a few missing teeth, but with all happiness in his life. As he began his rapid French at me, he was cheerfully commenting on the beautiful site of the Eiffel Tower. Everyday I see the Eiffel Tower, but tonight and probably on many other nights, the Eiffel Tower was blue. The man loved the blue Eiffel Tower and loved the city of Paris. He loved being a Parisian because there was no other place in the world to see such beautiful things.

Dinner party with Nicolas and dinner party with another family. I met a few of the Rullier's friends this week. They were very nice people that really only spoke French and tried to include me into conversations with their minimal English. They were still good cultural experiences of how the French dine. Do not forget the Champagne for the appetizers and vin for dinner. The dinners started at 2100 and ended almost to midnight, all on weekdays. I really like eating late because then I do not get hungry later in the evening, but man, my stomache gets huuungrrry. Luckily I can sneak in a few bites of what I make the kids at their 1900 meal time, which I think is pretty late for kids. But right after school, in all schools I believe, there is goùter time. Pretty much cookie time. It is a great concept, but is pretty much like afterschool snack time in America. Anyway at these dinner gatherings, I just sit there and listen. I do not really know what they are talking about, unless it is about the kids, but I hope some of the French seeped into my brain subsconsciously. They can probably tell that I am a little bored, but for the free dinner meal, which have both happen to be Asian cusine-French style, I can bear it.

Westmont Europe Semeseter. On Tuesday I met up with a Wendi Hale from Westmont and the rest of the Europe Semester group. It was great to see familiar faces and I think they were just as surprised to see me sitting in their class waiting for them to get out. Because they had class that day and since I had to work that day, Wendi and I only had lunch together, but it was good to catch up with her. To think that on graduation, it would be the last time that we would meet.

Katie. I think every Wednesday we will have to see each other. It is just going to have to be routine. Wednesdays are long for both of us because the kids have short days or no school at all. Yesterday after a hard and irritable day, Katie and I met at 2230 just to be together and have someone to talk to. Again we walked aimlessly until our stomaches cried for something sweet. We ended up near the Champs-Elysées, where there was a surprisingly large amount of people walking the streets and many stores were open. Sorry, I am boring, but on weekdays I stay in the house. None of this going out business on Wednesday night, but times are changing and for my sanity, it is going to have to happen. We walked into a couple of shops and as tempting as it was, we promised ourselves a nice gift after we got paid next week. There goes my savings.

Today I am seeing the grandparents again, so we will see how that goes. This weekend the Pope Benedict XVI is coming to France, so Katie and I are probably going to go to that. Bénedicte gets to meet him on Friday, as this will be her second time meeting a pope of somekind. She met Pope John Paul II a few years back. I am not going to ask her to meet him, I feel like that would be taking advantage of her and really, what would I do other than stare?

My internet is still being dumb, so pictures will come later. Hopefully in a few days. I have to babysit this Saturday so I will probably write another post with the extra time. Most likely on the cuisine.

see you samedi.

10 flat

10 things you should know about my flat:

1. the toliet is at the entrance
2. my bedroom is in the back, with no toliet
3. i have a washer in my bathroom (washer and dryer)
4. i do not have have a shower door, just a high open tub
5. there are no meshy screens in my windows
6. the people upstairs need to wear slippers on the hardwood floors, especially in the morning
7. although i do not use the kitchen, the kitchen has all minaturized appliances: small fridge, small oven
8. my sink has a drainy clogger thing to prevent the unwanted down the drain
9. i have a big bed that i read, eat, and watch my movies on
10. my closet contains those anti-moth things so moths do not eat my clothes. its a good concept, but now my clothes smell like anti-moth

inspired by fresno friends and our many top 10 lists. boyjen

frenglish

theme song for the week: New Soul by Yael Naim. (somewhat overplayed, but deserving to this week, plus she is French)

Thursdays are good days for me to add excerpts. And everyweek they shall come. I will try to add pictures another day; I was unsuccessful in finding my card reader.

It has been a very tiring first week, and I am not sure if the work is going let up. I have always wrestled with the concept of babysitting because it is just babysitting; it is really not that hard and does not have a very respectful place in the working world, however needed you may be. It is no math :) On the other hand, taking care of children, aka mothers...is hard. You understand the obvious similarities as well as the differences, but because they are not my children and my job as a caretaker is to take care and impress the family of my hard work and responsibilities, babysitting is tiring. Wednesdays especially; I have the two boys all day long, pretty much 12 hours. And so far I have not had any naps. I am sure they will come, but after being a very habitual nap taker throughout college, this life is very hard. I had a Red Bull one day because I could barely hang on. Never thought I would have resort to those drinks unless they were for driving or studying.

The two boys are pretty good. I have had them one on one as well as together. They listen to me a little better when we are out with mom, but for that I am truely grateful. The oldest, Jean Baptist is the more outgoing one and is friendly with everyone. His mother was telling me that he really does not understand the concept of bad people. He believes everyone is good, but because of that, his parents believe that he is vulnerable to those bad people that Jean Baptist is nice to. He loves his scooter, tropdinette, and his tricycle. He goes very fast and its kind of scary because he wears no helmet. The youngest, Amboise, is adorable. He is very loving and loves to fling his body everywhere. Seriously, it is weird. He cries for mom a lot and it is hard to divert his attention elsewhere. He loves doing everything his big brother does. And he calls me Nani or Nini (ne-ne)

oh yah, we eat fish almost everyday! but I am sure that will lessen because of school now feeding them.

This weekend was quite a blessing; without it, I would probably be still anxious and somewhat lonely. But no, I have a friend! Katie Winter is second degree friend? She is a friend with Gillian, a wonderful friend from Westmont. She is also an au pair, but in another part of the city. We actually do not live that far, but by metro we live farther. We met right under the Eiffel Tower, which I thought was a pretty good idea considering meeting elsewhere near the Eiffel Tower could get confusing depending on my left and rights. Center of the Eiffel Tower, no good. Hundreds of people in the middle of the Eiffel Tower! We met up to say the least and we just walked and talked for a long time. We just walked with no destination, but eventually stopped for gelato at the Notre Dame. We headed to her flat and hung out until I needed to go home. The next day we went to the Petit Palais where they were showing an exhibition on Spanish tango art. Katie is fluent in Spanish already and has a heart for the Spanish, so she was excited to go. After we went to an IKEA, which is near the airport, which is pretty far away. Having no idea how to get there, we wing it on a couple of metros and buses and finally get there. Too many people! but in an odd way, it was something familiar and felt somewhat like home. I did not need anything really, but was more motivated not to buy much because I would have to carry it home. Katie has buffer arms than me and I believe they came in quite handy with her new decor for her room. In the end, I ended up with a duvet cover and a plant.

This next week will kick in with routine of me taking and picking up the kids since they just started this week with the parents taking them, and I can finally get a nap. Language school for me does not start until the end of September. Play time! And my French is still pretty bad, but I can understand a lot more than I can speak. I have to talk to the kids in French because they do not understand anything else, but I have been asked to speak in English so they can pick it up or understand it, but if I speak to them only in English, I think both the kids and I will cry for lack of understanding. Together we will be creating Frenglish. Whatever you want to call it.

If you happen to send a letter, please use my alias name: Madame Brissart c/o Jennifer Chin.


until thursday.