I slept in a bit, reviewed my messages upon waking, and looked over my French tutor’s notes.

Earlier in the week, I had contacted another French club/school for private lessons, just because it’s a block away, and happened to be across from a favorite boulangerie. I just thought I’d inquire. Anyway, I passed their online test allowing me to join their conversation groups during the week, so I’ll be looking into that. Otherwise, they will contact me.

Why am I doing this? Well, I have had more than enough grammar studies in French. Over 275 hours in Paris alone, plus whatever I had in my youth, some university, and mostly personal endeavors with apps, books, and tapes. I want to zero in on working on oral comprehension. Classes won’t focus on that.

Meanwhile, my teacher Lisa gave me some homework, and that’s when I realized I have no paper or notebooks/pens on-hand, like I usually do. I’m old-school. While I type fast, I prefer taking notes with a pen and paper.

So, I headed to my old neighborhood in the 6ème to pick up a few things, and grab a bite.

On the two Métro rides over, the second train was super crowded. A lovely and stylish French woman and I were squished together and we smiled at one another, and struck up a conversation. She was so lovely. She thought I was French. Which was also lovely. I told her I was American, and a forever student in French, and we continued speaking in French because she didn’t speak English (only Italian, German and French). Anyway, she complimented my French. This is not a humble brag. This is a brag. I’ve been complimented almost daily since I arrived. It’s crazy, but I’m so happy to have achieved this goal. She (Claudine) loved my French accent, and really went on about it. I was thrilled. But nothing compared to the next compliment. She compared me to Jackie O.

What? Yes. It’s true. Knock me over with a feather!

We exited the train together, and I swear we could have become best friends. (This happens to me a lot!) We continued talking as we walked up the stairs and onto the street. Wow. I love this city.

As I said, I needed a few things, which turned into a pen and small notebook, and a pair of pajamas – for when I stay with Luigi, the cat (because there might be another visitor staying in the flat). And, I also bought a small black-paper journal and gold pen, which is a little tradition of mine when I’m here. I still like to journal by hand.

I may have stopped into Sephora and bought a new lipstick, too. I have the pink as you all know, but my red (standard) was running low. I’d bought it here last summer and they no longer make it. The stylish sales woman recommended a Dior shade « Red Smile, » and that’s what I bought.

Afterwards, I stopped at a favorite café, Saint-Placide, and ordered some soup and a glass of wine. That’s when my phone buzzed. I clicked on the incoming notification and was taken to my online class with ATFrenchies! Oh my goodness, it was time for office hours with Alex! I joined in with my AirPods, but told Alex I could only listen, not participate. He muted my mic, and I learned all about « cursing » in French, as I sat en terrasse with my wine. Lol! Seriously, that was today’s lesson. I decided to light a cigarette to get into the mood.

He told the class it would probably be best if “Lisa” didn’t participate since there were others near me in the café and it would be rude if I were just sitting there alone, cursing. Well, rude or psychotic.

I popped into my old neighborhood boulangerie for my daily bread, and then headed for the subway. I took Line 4, changed at Châtelet to line 1 – and that’s where things stopped. Hmmmm.

When you come up the stairs to the platform and there’s a uniformed officer with an AK-47-something-or-other, you don’t ask questions. We were not permitted onto the platform for whatever reason. Security is high. The Tour de France is ongoing, the Olympics are coming, and le 14 juillet is approaching (Bastille Day). And while there isn’t going to be the usual parade and pomp and circumstance – I think there will still be the air parade.

It’s a lot.

So… everyone turned and scurried like ants do when their hill is swept away. I checked my phone for the lines to seek the next best way home. Line 7. That would take me to the cats’ house, and I could walk from there.

Well, this was the Châtelet station, which is huge and busy. Lots of connections there. By the time I walked from line 1 to line 7, I probably could’ve been home if I were above ground. lol. Anyway, it all worked out.

I popped into the market that I know so well near the cats’ place on Boulevard Henri IV, and bought some yogurt, butter, and other necessities.

The 150 horses (or so) and their riders in uniform are quite something to behold.

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Republican_Guard_(France)

Home now, with the window open and the street is lively. You can tell it’s Friday night. Crowds gathering for Apéro and dinner. It’s about 62 degrees, so the breeze feels nice.