Camping in Paris: Redsox, Whitesox, Wozzox: Pals in Paris

Hey there, remember me? I know, it's been awhile. I can only say that, as I may have mentioned before, this city never stops. Even if you beg, even if you purse your lips and shrug until you turn blue, there is always something else happening in Paris.

SO the first big thing I have to mention is that my dear friend Rebecca Trembath came to visit my last week, bringing with her a lovely package of stroopwaffles from her new home in Amsterdam. Stroopwaffles are now the tithe for visiting me, so be warned: if you show up without them, you can't stay here. And this is mainly because I have already eaten all the ones Becca brought.

Now, as I might have mentioned in the blog post featuring my last guest, I'm not the best host. It doesn't help that I'm living in a place where the bathrooms look like something out of the Saw movies, but I could make it a little better by doing things like having food in my fridge when my guests arrive, and owning more than one towel so that they are not forced to dry off with t-shirts.

However, Rebecca braved all these challenges with grace and we had a fun and food filled weekend, stabilized by the fact that we walked and velibbed our faces off. Some highlights included dinners at Cassenoix, a nice restaurant near my office, lunch at Marché des enfants rouges, where I got yelled at for sitting on a chair, another dinner at Café de l'industrie in the 11th arrondissement...and you get the point. I won't belabour it, the food in Paris is pretty alright. Especially if you eat it with wine, and a great pal.

Another one of the places we patronized. Very logical sign, I thought.

On the vélib note: vélib is the communal bike system in Paris, similar to Bixi in Montreal and whatever Vancouver will one day get once they solve the helmet law issue. I got my vélib card a couple of weeks ago and decided to vélib home from work (note: vélib is both a noun and a verb. incroyable!). One hour and 3 sets of directions from strangers later I was home...lesson being that sometimes the métro is the better option. But the vélibs are a great solution for short distances and have already come to my rescue once when the train broke down on the way to work!

Going backwards in reverse chronological order without a segue, the nuit blanche happened a few weeks ago as well. When you faire une nuit blanche in french, it means you have a sleepless night, generally due to merrymaking. The Nuit Blanche festival in Paris is a night of interactive art exhibitions, supposedly open until the wee hours (although many close indecently early). I went to the park right across the street to check out some interesting flashing lights, a band playing in a tree, and a man playing the keyboard and synthesizer going on and on about how he doesn't believe in love...I think.

Band in a tree!

Synthesizer man.

Anyway, it was pretty cool, and it also involved a french lesson for one of my new non-francophone friends I have made here in France. We were passing by the lake within the park, and she saw a sign that said something like 'Nourrissez pas les oiseaux'. I think most of the Canadians reading this can sympathize that learning french in school is kind of hard - the grammar is tricky, the pronunciation is very specific, and there is an exception to absolutely every rule you spend hours memorizing. So when you are able to apply all that knowledge that you work so hard for in practice, it's pretty exciting, as was proven when my friend yelled:

'Hey! I know that word! It means birds! WOZZOX!!! WOZZOX MEANS BIRDS!!'

You would have been excited too right?

I'm sure that there is more to be said about my life, but it's already past my bedtime and I haven't even added the photos yet. There are a few cameo appearances this week, not least my absolute biggest blog fan, whose comments are always very appreciated: