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May. 29th, 2003 12:37 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
zana16Today is a good day. I'm wearing my blue socks and my comfy jeans and Abby is coming to visit. And I am going to finish with my European Union essay today. I am.
It's a national holiday in France. We've narrowed down the "why" to either an equivalent of Memorial Day or the ascension of Mary. The French couldn't care less why they get a day off; almost no one here is into the whole religion thing anyways, and those who actually fought in WWII get actual benefits in this country.
I love the bus. The metro does bad things to my aura, my grandmother would say. I'm jsut much happier when I can take the bus. It's only old people and immigrants and drunks usually, since the metro is faster and on the bus they often don't check tickets. So there are always interesting people to look at. Today though there was an absolutely gorgeous young black mother sitting in front of me. I know I was staring, but it was just *wow*. I could almost see millions of years of evolution heading directly towards forming this one being of perfection.
Paris is hot and muggy so I'm trying not to move too much. The good bakery wasn't open today but the good cheese shop was, and I stopped in at several bakeries on the way to Reid Hall to find the perfect baguette. I have such higher standards now that I live in France. I will cry when I have to go back to the States and settle for the lame grocery-store baguettes that make even the "worst" baguettes here look fit for a king.
It's a national holiday in France. We've narrowed down the "why" to either an equivalent of Memorial Day or the ascension of Mary. The French couldn't care less why they get a day off; almost no one here is into the whole religion thing anyways, and those who actually fought in WWII get actual benefits in this country.
I love the bus. The metro does bad things to my aura, my grandmother would say. I'm jsut much happier when I can take the bus. It's only old people and immigrants and drunks usually, since the metro is faster and on the bus they often don't check tickets. So there are always interesting people to look at. Today though there was an absolutely gorgeous young black mother sitting in front of me. I know I was staring, but it was just *wow*. I could almost see millions of years of evolution heading directly towards forming this one being of perfection.
Paris is hot and muggy so I'm trying not to move too much. The good bakery wasn't open today but the good cheese shop was, and I stopped in at several bakeries on the way to Reid Hall to find the perfect baguette. I have such higher standards now that I live in France. I will cry when I have to go back to the States and settle for the lame grocery-store baguettes that make even the "worst" baguettes here look fit for a king.
