Un autre beau Vendredi ce printemps!

My school days are fewer but longer. On my way home this late afternoon, I stopped by a BAGEL SHOP. Yes, you read that right. Il y a un magasin de bagels dans mon quartier! I’ve been curious for months, but every time I’ve walked by, it’s either been too crowded, there’s a line out the door, or it’s closed. Mais pas aujourd’hui! Like a lot of shops in Paris, it’s tiny – and I mean tiny. Everyone is used to lines that go out the door. It’s always a good sign, but the wait is never that long, really.

They sell many types of bagels, including the everything bagel, sesame, plain, poppyseed, and one called “fromage,” because, Paris. So, I ordered a couple of bagels, and asked for cream cheese with chives on only one of them. The woman was perplexed. She started slicing and toasting ALL OF THEM. Non, merci, pas grillé, s’il vous plaît. Attends, quoi??? She couldn’t believe I just wanted the bagels in a bag – au naturel. So, I explained, “Je vais les préparer chez moi.” OK, she was young and sweet and didn’t judge me, but she had clearly never heard of this before. As soon as I got home, I enjoyed half of my cream cheese “everything” bagel, and let me tell you, they’ve nailed it. Quelle surprise! LOL! It wasn’t overly seasoned, if you know what I mean. Très delish.

My morning Grammar class involved going over a lot of homework that we’d been assigned. And I mean a lot! It was easy, though. (Ha! Listen to me!) And as there are only 4 of us in the class, we spend those 3 hours working, which is great because we get lots of practice with reading/speaking/conjugating. In addition, we learned more rules that are sometimes broken. <wink> I have to say my Grammar prof, Pauline, is actually an amazingly stereotypically French woman. She’s gorgeous. Effortlessly chic! She looks put together without trying — not in a plastic or artificial way. She can wrap a scarf around her shoulders when she’s chilly and look like an ad for Vogue. I’d be in knots.

The afternoon Speaking class addressed some French stereotypes:

They don’t drink wine nearly as much as they used to, yet the stereotype persists. I’m here to tell you they do wear striped shirts and they do buy baguettes every day. The berets are worn more than they care to admit, too. But, it turns out the French only eat croissants on weekends — Sundays, to be specific. Why? Because they are made with BUTTER. Lots of PURE BUTTER, probably from those fancy Normandy cows. I broke that “croissant rule” a few times and have zero regrets.

Oh, and the correct pronunciation is KRWAHsuhn — and the KRWAH is gravely and comes from the back of the throat. There’s just no equivalent letter in the American alphabet that emulates that back-of-the-throat gargle sound you need for the French R.

Also, the French don’t really have breakfast, but lunch lasts 2 hours, which is why dinner is so late here.

What else? Most folks are not fashionable – even on TV. People don’t seem to care about appearances at all. Women are not Botoxed, and in fact, are usually older on TV – unabashedly so.

They’re all aware of the stereotypes that just won’t quit. The one that bothers me the most is that they’re rude. I don’t think that’s true. Quite the opposite. I’ve had friends here who’ve had people walk them to the right bus stop or metro train. And I’ve had so many pleasant exchanges with people. They keep to themselves. They won’t chat while in line, or anything. It’s a more introvert-friendly city in that way. But, when you ask, they can’t wait to be helpful.

Everyone enjoy your weekend! Have fun or get some rest if you need it. I’m a little tired today, and realized that while I opted for a semi-intensive semester, my days are 6 hours instead of 4. LOL!

I learned that expression today – Sortir les poubelles, so…