Paris: Part 4

On my fourth day in Paris, I headed up to the Basilica of St. Denis, where a whoooole bunch of the French monarchy are buried, including Marie Antoinette herself. While it wasn't much to look at on the outside, the inside was a whole different matter:

Afterwards, I took a long metro ride down to the infamous Catacombs, ready to see some creepy stuff, and creepy stuff I did find.

For those of you who don't know about the Catacombs, let me educate you. There was once a time when burying people in the city of Paris was allowed, and then, after a while, the cemeteries became overrun. People were being throw into mass graves, that were only closed when they were full. That means open pits of dead bodies in the middle of the city. One of the most sought after cemeteries, Saint Innocents, the ground was completely filled beyond capacity. Not only did it stink up the place pretty bad, but all the lime used on the bodies and decaying organic matter was seeping into Paris' underground wells, where almost the entire city got its water from--hence, people were getting sick. Not good.
Therefore, sometime in the late 1700s, it was decided to shut down all cemeteries within city limits and transfer all the bodies and bones to Paris' system of underground mines. For a long time the bones just kind of sat around in piles, then, later put into the formations of skulls and femurs you see today and opened to the public.
When I was in Rome I went to the Capuchin Crypt where all these Capuchin monks were buried. In the Crypt they have all the bones laid out in intricate patterns. Some of the skeletons are even dressed up. In the very last room they have a plaque, which states: "What you are now, we used to be. What we are now, you will be." Quite jarring. You've just seen all these dead bodies and then you're confronted with a quote like that. No pictures were allowed, but as soon as I got out I wrote it down because it knocked the wind out of me. So as I made my way through the Catacombs of Paris, I couldn't help but recall it. Each one of those skulls was once a person, like you and me. If that's not a slap of mortality, I don't know what is.
But it wasn't all doom and gloom. I admit, I liked it, because I'm a nerd for the morbid.

Then I decided to quit the morbid stuff, and walked on over to Saint Sulpice.

When I got back to my hostel I met one of my new roommates and after the formalities of saying hello and where are you from blah blah blah, I asked her what she was doing in Europe and this is how the conversation went...
Canadian Girl: I've been doing a study abroad program in Germany with a bunch of Kentuckians.
Me: *blinks* Haha. That's funny. When I was in Rome a few weeks ago I met a bunch of girls from Kentucky who were studying abroad in Germany.
Canadian: Really? A lot of people from my program went to Italy recently. What were their names?
Me: *lists some names*
Canadian: *agape* I know those people!
Me: Holy shit.
Canadian: Small world.
And then I made her go to the Christmas Market with me, to eat crepes and sausages and hot wine.

Paris: Part 3

Sorry I'm being so slow with these Paris posts, but as I said before: I'm busy. Graduate school application crap. Writing. Work. Planning trips (my next one is to Pisa/Florence mid-February). The only thing I'm finished is editing Tristina's manuscript. Go me!

Anyway, my third day in Paris I went outside the city to Versailles. It was really effing cold that day, and the place was PACKED with tourists. It was interesting to see all of that stuff, but the tourists...well, they ruin everything. It's like: "Get out of my way! Stop milling around like idiots." Then you realize you're also a tourist, and it makes you hate the whole situation even more, because no one really enjoys being an idiot tourist--especially if you've lived in Hawaii and New York City...
However, I had to go to Versailles and risk being touristic, because I've always been fanatically interested in the French Revolution. So, I bit back my pride and went for it.
It was interesting...ish.

The front of the Palace

Hall of Mirrors. Packed.

Me. In the mirrors. Oo la la. Note, sexy leather jacket and hiking boots. I look like i just stepped off a motorcycle.

I didn't learn anything I didn't already know, BUT I kept running into this cute French guy. Every time we caught sight of each other in a new room it was all ogling and secret smiles. Then I lost him in the Napoleon room, and I figured I wouldn't see him again. But after I'd seen it all, just before I left the main palace, I decided to hit up this side exhibition--where they decorated a few rooms in very modern styles, mixed with old paintings and whatnot, BAM there he was again, and I almost had a giggle fit because it was kind of hilarious.

The cute French guy is the one on the very right hand corner.

The rest of the time I spent outside, half freezing to death, staring at the lifeless gardens. Okay, they had some life, but I bet they're a lot prettier, and about a thousand times less depressing, in the spring.

That night I decided to hit up the Eiffel Tower, because I figured I would just go all out touristy that day.

When I got off the metro, and turned the corner, this was the sight I was graced with: a glittering tower. It glitters every hour at night. So perdy.

After waiting just about an hour, I finally got to the elevators that bring you to the very tippy top of the tower, and then it took another fifteen minutes, but I got to the top, eventually--only to be graced with bitter, sharp wind. So cold and harsh.
What a view though.

The Seine. The Champs-Elysee. Louvre. Etc...etc...

Moi. At the top. BRRRRRR. Note, headphones. Always with the headphones. They are my companion when I'm alone.

After I came down, I walked a bit to a get a good snap shot of just the tower. Tragically, both my cameras hate shooting at night so the best I've got is this:

No picture can capture the actual feeling of standing in the presence of this thing. Seriously. It's aggravating.

Afterwards, I walked to the Christmas Market again, for German sausages, hot wine, and crepes--all for under 15 euros total. A perfect dinner.

Paris: Part 2

My second day in Paris, I spent almost entirely at the Louvre, and why not? Really? I mean, the place is MASSIVE. Did I expect to see everything? Hell no. But I had to see everything I should see--everything I would be sorry about not seeing later.

When I first laid eyes on the famous Pyramids, I was quite overcome--much more than I expected. There wasn't a lot of people there. It was sort of quiet, besides the traffic. And I suddenly felt very excited and happy when I saw that giant glass pyramid. It definitely a "holy shit, this is really happening" moment. The day before I saw sort of soaking it all in, in a daze, but that day--it felt real. It was the same moment I had at Shelley's grave in Rome. It was great.

Then I went inside, and there were a lot of people in there and the moment was over. But I'm not complaining. I spent most of my time with the statues. For some reason, those are always my favorite, especially when they are depicting the Greek myths.

Athena

Cupid and Psyche

Hermes

The famous Venus de Milo

Apollo

Artemis

Victory

Then, of course, I had to see the Egyptian stuff, which was awesome. Mummies. Sculptures. Hieroglyphics. I was in Archaeological nerd heaven.

Look at the colors! So much more vivid than I expected.

The green people are dead. How appropriate! Haha.

Oh and you cannot visit the Louvre without seeing its most famous resident...as about two hundred other people also had to do at the same time as me.

The Mona Lisa! It was small, but not as small as I expected.

I saw some other paintings, but if I keep going like this you, well be here for days. So here's my last one:

Romeo and Juliet

Then I left the Louvre and walked through the Tuileries Gardens, which weren't so impressive because it was November and all. No flowers or leaves. Not much of garden. However, I did stop tp sit down and these little fellows sat across from me.

My dad dubbed them Athos, Porthos, Aramis, and the really brave one on the table is d'Artagnan.

My first view of the Eiffel Tower, through the fog.

Finally, I ended the day with a walk along the Champs-Elysee, where I stumbled upon a Christmas Market! The first stall I came across was a place, selling €3 Nutella crepes. It was warm, chocolaty goodness. Mm, mm, mmm. I ended up coming to this Christmas market just about every day I was in Paris, to eat crepes and German sausages (no jokes please *glares*), and drink hot wine. So freaking tasty, and cheap.

 Of course, the Champs-Elysee ends with the Arc de Triomphe!

Day Two in Paris: tout fini!

Paris: Part 1

When I first got to Paris I went to my hostel to check in. I was a little wary of the place because it didn't have the best reviews, but as soon as I walked in I knew it couldn't be so bad.

They told me they were switching me to a six person room, despite the fact that I booked myself in a ten person. Nice. Then I left my luggage and went out again, ready to explore.

I was staying in the Montmarte area, so I decided that the best thing to do was to head straight for the Sacre Coeur, which is a Basilica that sits high up on a hill (and you can see it from the clock at the Musee d'Orsay. It was Sunday, so I knew I was in for some problems. I got hounded for money by gypsies on the steps up to the basilica--they pretended they were deaf and mute. I was like...uhm...get out of my way, but they wouldn't leave me alone until I gave them a few euros. Bastards. And I thought NYC beggars were bad...

But it was all worth it when I actually got into the church. Since it was Sunday, there was a service going on, and the choir was singing and it was just...amazing. I don't think I've ever been in a Catholic church of that size and magnificence on a Sunday, ever. It was quite a thing to take in.

Then I made my way to Notre Dame.

I grew up with that terrible Disney movie about the Hunchback, so I've been waiting to see the real thing for a loooong time. You have no idea how difficult it is for me to articulate how it felt--how it almost always feels when I finally have places like this within my sight. It's a mixture of awe and disappointment. The disappointment part comes from the hundreds of tourists who are having the same moment as you, making it seem less than special. The awe is a given. I mean, all the history, the people who have walked through those doors and marveled...it's impossible to find the words.

Going inside was a different experience altogether. Like the Sacre Coeur, Notre Dame is a fully functioning church, so it too was holding mass. There is nothing quite like seeing these places as their meant to be seen, alive, filled with a congregation. Not to forget the fact that it's simply beautiful inside.

When I was done there, I was exhausted. So I thought I would go back to the hostel to take a nap.
I arrived at the same time as three other people who I would be rooming with: three African guys. As a woman, I am allowed to be initially frightened by this situation. I AM ALLOWED. Especially given the little I know about Africa--one of those things being the fact that HALF, 50%, one in two women in South Africa will be raped in her lifetime...so, yeah, I'm allowed.
BUT they were dressed very nicely, so I tried to tell myself it will be fine.
I talked to them a little, they seemed alright, one was a bit too forward and asked too many questions, but other than that--fine. And they left.
Then I took a nap.
When I woke up, the chatty one was in his bed, they'd had a long journey, okay.

However, he started talking to me, and he wouldn't really let me get out of the conversation...for ONE HOUR. We talked ourselves into circles. He kept talking about how I should visit Africa. Why hadn't I been to Africa? He would gladly arrange a whole trip for me, and pay for it.
Uhm...
And there I was, still sitting in bed, giggling awkwardly, and fake smile plastered on my face.
He asked me if I believed in God, was I a Christian? And I said, "I don't know about God, but I've definitely not a Christian." He promptly told me I should convert. I just blinked.
He asked if I was married, and I SHOULD have said yes, just to get him to stop, but I'm a terrible liar. Then he told me how he felt like it was God's will for us to meet, and I should come to Africa.
Uhm...
Luckily I was meeting a friend in the lobby of the hostel, so I finally had an excuse to get out of that room. I sat there for a long time, waiting. Meanwhile, the guy left. I thought about asking the guy at the front desk if I could switch rooms tomorrow, because I found out that the African guys were staying as long as I was and I knew I just couldn't deal with five more days of that.
And out of no where, the guy from the front desk walks up to where I'm sitting and asks me if I wanted to move to an all-female room.
"YES!"
So, I moved to a four person, all girl room at that very moment, and I was SO GLAD. I even told the guy at the front desk, "Thank you SO MUCH." Being in that room made my whole trip about a hundred times more awesome than it would have been. I'll explain why later.

Anyway, I went out for dinner with my friend, drank a lot of wine, and we exchanged stories about being nannies. It was a nice and interesting first day in Paris.

This Post Is Not About Paris

Remember that time when I went to Paris and wrote all about it in my blog?!

Oh yeah. Wait. That never happened.

Well, I went to Paris; however, I have neglected to write anything about it. Sorry.

But I have a good excuse! Kinda...not really...

I was busy not studying for the GRE, which I was supposed to take on the sixth, but it turns out the sixth is Santa Claus No One Works Day here in Luxembourg. So I got a call the night before--no test. Why they let me get an appointment for that day? I have no idea. Then I was supposed to take it on the eighth. And I get ANOTHER call, the night before, saying that my testing location is experiencing power outages--so no test. I thought to myself, "Wow, the Universe REALLY wants me to study for this!" And then promptly didn't study at all.
Because I'm WRITING STUFF.
Actually, I'm more like researching and planning out how I will WRITE THE STUFF.

Also, I developed a strange quark where I feel the need to suddenly start yelling words that make me excited. Must be all this time I spend with kids all day--everyday. Fun fact: kids are incapable of conversing at normal noise levels, and no matter how many times you tell them "inside voice please" or remind them that you are right next to them and they don't need to shout, they still talk unbelievably loud. *eye twitch*

Anyway, yes, I am in the process of writing something, and by something I mean a novel, which will probably have a few follow up novels and a prequel here and there. I guess I'm talking about a non-linear series of some kind. I've spent hours upon hours trying to figure this thing out. Naming characters the perfect names. Coming up with backstory. Blah. Blah. Blah. There are still huge gaping plot holes I need to knit together in my head before I can move forward with some serious writing.

Besides my own writing, I am also working on editing someone else's.
Two months ago (as of tomorrow), Tristina (from Mr and Mrs Wright) posted about the book(s) she's writing and sort of asked for volunteers to read/edit for her. Lots of people commented on it, but no one else offered to volunteer. I was surprised. I love editing. My creative writing classes were my favorite partially because I got to edit stuff (but mostly because I like writing, of course). So I was like, "I will gladly do this!"
And then I heard nothing about it for a long time...like a month, but I knew she'd have to say something about it eventually, even if it was only to ask me if I was serious about my offer (which I totally was). Then one day I got a long email from her, and it was pretty much the most awesome email I've ever received. But to summarize, she was like, "Do you really want to do this? Let's be writing friends!" Except she was a bit more professional...I think.
And I was like, "HELL YES! Let's do this!"
Now we share oddly cryptic tweets over Twitter about things almost no one else understands, and I get to wake up every morning excited that there might be words to gobble up with my eyes for my brain to digest. Then I write really long emails that involve a lot of English-major-ish type vocabulary and ideas about said words. It's exciting.
Honestly, it's the most fun I've ever had doing something that some people might consider work, and I'm doing it for free! I could do this for the rest of my life and be totally content. If I could get paid to do it...well, that would be amazing.

So, that's the story of why I've been neglecting to write about Paris.

Tragically, I'll be headed to Switzerland, AGAIN, for two weeks. You know the drill. No internet there, therefore no pretty words about Paris from me until I get back. Sorry lovelies. But here's a picture to get you through the next few days:

24th Birthday

Well, I know it's been a while, but the 22nd of November was my 24th birthday, and while it wasn't exceptional or anything I feel like sharing.

I woke up to find €20 sitting outside my door with a note from Frau S (the woman I work for), telling me to buy whatever I want at the bakery for a special birthday breakfast. Breakfast is my job in the morning. I usually go to the bakery across the street for bread every morning and every morning I stare longingly at my favorite pastries wishing I had slipped a couple euros in my pocket to buy one (but I never do, because I have will power!). But that morning I could go all out. So I did.
:-D
Two of the boys even went with me and picked out their favorites. They were being so adorable that morning.


When I went downstairs I was greeted with this sight at my spot at the table.

In the afternoon I had planned on rotting my brain at the movie theater to see the newest Twilight installment, but Frau S suggested we go visit the Christmas market in Trier (Germany) which had just opened the day before. Apparently, Germany is quite well known for their Christmas markets.
So I had my first German Christmas market experience that day. We ate giant gingerbread cookies and German sausages (no jokes please).

Overall, it was a pretty great day.


Then a couple days later, after getting some terrible flu that seems to only attack Americans, I made Thanksgiving for the family and some of our friends came over and I had about 12 people singing happy birthday to me, which felt kind of epic for some reason. 

But let me just say, it had more of a birthday month, and it was amazing. I went to Rome AND Paris all in the month of November. Best birthday month ever? Yes. I think so. I doubt I will ever be able to top it.

Rome: Part V

My last day full day in Rome I spent entirely in a place outside of the city called Ostia Antica. It was once a harbor city, and the main seaport for Ancient Rome. Now it is an abandoned ghost town of excellently preserved ruins, which, due to the silting of the Tiber River, and a drop in sea level lies 3km from the sea.
I have to say this was probably my second most favorite place I visited (first being the Protestant Cemetery): it was out in the open, there weren't any security guards pacing around, and you could touch everything. It was amazing, being able to explore unimpeded like that. I walked up ancient steps and down ancient roads and on ancient tile floors. There wasn't much left off limits, except for places where people might get hurt. I was climbing all over the place. Oh and did I mention? There wasn't a complete mob of people there. So serene. Ah. Lovely.
I just can't describe how much fun I had being in this place. When I was younger I wanted to be an archeologist, and that day I got to live out all my nerdiest little anthropological dreams. Even as a writer, I was in heaven--the inspiration I got out of that day had been endless. Not even the rain could ruin it. I found a nice little dry place and wrote for two hours. I could not have imagined a more perfect day.

Part of the "Necropolis" aka City of the Dead. No dead were allowed to be buried within the walls of Rome, which is why there are so many catacombs and necropolises as you head out of the city. On the right are two spots where ashes would have been interred.

My feet on the mosaic floor.

Temple of Ceres

The Theater

Kitty in the theater!

Another mosaic floor.

The Capitol Building.

Public toilets. For reals. Ancient public toilets.

This is where I sat for two hours, writing, while it poured outside.

In the museum. These are the strangest eyes I have ever seen on an ancient sculpture. HA!

I was very sorry to have to go, but the whistles started blowing (meaning the place was shutting down). It was getting dark and cold, and there more rain was on its way. So I had to go. If any of you ever get the chance to go to Rome, you have to set aside a day just for exploring Ostia Antica. You have to. I guarantee it will be worth it, €6.50 well spent.