First off, the lunch. I met Mélanie at a really fancy restaurant by Concorde (as in Place de la Concorde, the place with the obelisk and the lovely view of the Eiffel Tower, which no one enjoyed today because it was pouring), a restaurant where the business types of Paris dine. Mélanie, being a savvy French student who lives in Paris but isn't from here had found a discount online, so we each only paid about 20 euros for our lunch (a plat principal + dessert)!!! And boy, was it delicious! I only took a picture of the main course because I didn't want to seem like too much of a tourist, but I suppose I could have taken as many as I wanted after I totally shamed the waiter. In any case, here is the picture:
My fancy rabbit, surrounded by a pretty ring of penne pasta, in a violet reduction sauce!
Mélanie enjoying her dessert—she got something with lots of options!
That, if you can't tell, is rabbit. When I got it, I was a bit unsure as well. Not of my French (I was sure I had ordered the lapin), but of the server's hearing ability. Mostly because I was feeling a bit annoyed that he kept trying to speak to Mélanie and me in English for the simple reason that we were speaking English. We always addressed him in French. Then, when I got up to go to the bathroom, he started pointing me in the right direction in English as well. So I told him that I spoke French, that it wasn't a problem, and he got all red and said (in French): "Oh! Sorry! That's right!" As Mélanie and I left, he said (also in French) that he was really sorry, that my French was impeccable, and that it was a reflex to speak English whenever he heard it. Yeah...
After lunch, I went to the Longchamp boutique and bought myself some Longchamp purses. They're pretty standard here in Paris, and much cheaper to get than in America. I like them because they're extremely light and they go right under your armpit, which makes pickpocketing extremely difficult. I didn't like walking around Paris carrying the same purse I got pickpocketed wearing last summer. Plus, I wanted a second, more colorful one, to carry around Italy. The lady in the store was super helpful, convinced me to get a larger size for Italy because it would fit all my books and that way I wouldn't have to carry around two bags. Then, I asked her about the "réduction fiscale" (tax discount) and she said (in French—the whole conversation was in French): "You're not Parisian?" Long story short, I ended up buying a third purse so I could get the reduction, and the lady who checked me out kept asking why my family had moved to the US, so I had to explain to her that I was born and raised there and had learned French.
Finally, I had my first OuLiPo meeting of the summer (out of two) and Jacques Roubaud was there!!! I just love seeing him. He talked about a troubadour poem I had put on my generals lists, so I actually really really knew something that was read at this particular "jeudi." Compared to that first "jeudi" where I most likely only understood about 50% of what they were saying, and even less if you consider inside jokes and specifically French humor, it was a miracle!
Rain-covered window inside the BnF
Going to OuLiPo meetings at the BnF is a constant reminder that Paris is and probably always will be a growing city. The BnF is right near where I lived while studying abroad, and already now, a mere 3 years later, the area has totally changed. First, there's a Prêt à Manger there now!! Apparently, they're all over the city. This is probably the only place they exist where the customers can actually pronounce the name of the store! Second, all the construction apparently seems to be going somewhere. There will soon be new, modern-style apartments. And the "tramway" (French word for "streetcar," but I prefer tramway) that I used to have to walk quite a ways to catch to take me to Cité Universitaire (where Alexandra stayed in Paris) now extends all the way to the library and beyond. It actually connects with another (also extended) tramway, which would take me all the way up to Porte des Lilas (where Justine lived when I studied abroad) if I wanted to go there, which I wouldn't. These tramways are so much more pleasant than the métro, being above-ground and given they play a little music when they reach a stop. And they're easier to figure out than the buses. Plus, they don't get stuck in traffic. All in all, maybe my new favorite mode of Parisian transportation!
That's it for tonight. Tomorrow will be the day I go to the BnF and attempt to get a "carte de lectrice" so I can see Victor Hugo's love letters!
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