Final Thoughts Pictures

The lights in Centro are...


...so beautiful!


One cartwheel for the road.

Farewell Firenze!

Final Thoughts

Ciao Ciao,

So. I leave for LA in three days. The last few weeks in Florence have been a blur - basking in the Christmas fervor, gazing awestruck at the incredible lights hung all over the city, taking pictures so I can take the city back with me, drinking wine with friends - sometimes and sometimes not on the steps of the Duomo, finally seeing and falling in love with David, learning the art of cooking from an Italian chef (I know how to make meatballs the right way!), and trying so eagerly to figure myself out - "I don't want to go, but I'm ready to go, but I can't leave Florence, but I'm done with taking the bus, but nothing even compares to the Duomo, but I can at last kiss that foam mattress goodbye." This sort of flipping-flopping way of thinking is expected, I suppose. In my attempt to communicate my feelings, I've decided to look to my good friend, Sir Elton John. I've taken his words and made them my own.

The city’s got a thing about it, never fading with the sunset when the rain sets in. When we start we say forever, but the end has come before I knew it. So the world slows down to let me off. Ask me what it is that makes Italy so special, why it is so real to me – it has been a time I never can or shall erase. I don’t wish it away – I was captured by romantic things and now there’s a loveliness I’ve lost.

I packed my bag last night pre-flight. In all honesty, I’m speechless and don’t know where to start. I’ve got to wait till morning. I’ve only got one book to see me through my flight. When my plane descends, I will count the headlights on the highway, and thank the Lord there’s people out there like you – a home and a family that makes sense for me, a solid foundation built out of trust.

Anyway, the thing is, what I really mean – this is where I am. It’s enough for this wide-eyed wanderer that I got this far. Oh, and the bitch is back.

Thank you so much for your love and support and prayers and kind words. I'm sad to be leaving, but I am lucky that I get to go home to you.

Buon Natale e a Giovedi,

Genevieve Lorraine

Svizzera Pictures

The Christmas market in Bern.


Baskets, anyone?


Jenna was really thrilled to buy a knit cap from Switzerland. Once we were back in the hostel, she discovered it was made in Nepal.


Here, we sampled the most amazing caramels I've ever tasted. Ever. Those big copper pots held molten caramel that was poured into rectangular pans, cooled, and was sliced into .5 x .5 inch squares. They were still hot when ate them. See below.


Jenna and Meg enjoying our sweets.


For lunch, rather than sitting down for a costly meal, we decided to sample the traditional swiss food sold at the Christmas market - a sausage sandwich. Go figure. Three sandwiches please!


Ah yes, it is that time again, isn't it? You know, when the temperatures drop and hair moves north for the winter. I really have no idea what this is about, but you can bet I stayed clear of the cafe below.


I can't wait to see you guys! And Vincenzo!


Meg took this beautiful picture. She is such the photo-extraordinaire.


Nothin' like the rain in Bern.


(Look closely) I'm...


I love this picture of Meg. You can't really see her face, but you have to agree that she looks like she's up to no good. She kind of reminds me of a character from Lord of the Rings; I think it's the hood and her whispy hair.


Fondue night! This was put on by our hostel. For 20 Swiss Francs, we had unlimited wine, salad, bread, and fondue. I was a bit confused though - we asked for more salad and they said no.


It was Swiss, of course!


I woke up Saturday morning and, peeking through the red gingham curtains that shaded the window above my bed, I saw the giant chess set covered in snow!


Beautiful Interlaken, a white wonderland.


The Alps, ladies and gents.


I decided to go to Coop around the corner and pick up some ingredients to make cookies (see below). I had extra sugar, extra butter, and a big bag filled with clementines. I decided I would experiment and attempt to candy the clementines. Meg and Emily laughed at me while my concoction cooked into an interesting, syrup-like substance. They didn't taste half bad though, and Emily liked them. So there.


The hostel had a public kitchen with a convection oven too small for cookie sheets and no measuring cups whatsoever. I eyeballed everything and in doing so, overestimated the butter and underestimated the flour. I shaved Tolberone bars into the batter - that definitly made up for my measurement errors. They turned out fine, a bit crispy, but otherwise delicious.


See?


- "Oh my gawd! Did you see what she wore to Metro last night?"
- "Lord I know! Talk about disco inferno! She's got alotta nerve, that one."
- "Don't you know it. Hey June, I heard they got a new keyboard player down at the Jazz Club. They say he's quite the fox."
- "Count me in! And it's Tuesday! You know what that means..."
- (together) "Tacos!"


This is definitly the most bizarre blanket I have ever seen. Unfortunately, I can't say it belongs to Jenna - it's her host family's. Look how perfectly the two cats fit underneath her arms. If I didn't know any better, I'd say it was made this way intentionally. Jenna is hilarious!


Me, Meg, Emily, Jenna, and Shan. We braved the very very back seat for the eight hour bus ride. I had an absolute ball with them this weekend.

A Poem

Santorini

Cornflower blue
Caldera view
His art
My new start

Two arms embrace
Crescent moon space
My home, I feel
The layers, I peel
Volcanic eruption
Island consumption
Years apart
Fortuitous art

Island bar
Hotel far
Dark night
Cold flight
Wild hair
Feet bare
Quiet dance
My romance

Special magic
Weather tragic
Summer fun
Idyllic sun
One-way trip
Caldera dip

Hard to pack
Small my sack
More is less
A blue sundress
Sandals, suits

No disputes
Let me fly
Say goodbye

Svizzera

Ciao Ciao,

I haven't updated in a while, but let me assure you, it's all for good reason. You see, last Thursday afternoon before I left for Svizzera, I wrote an entry, attempted to publish it, and it was deleted. I have no idea why. All I know is that I am most definitly holding the worst kind of grudge.

I've got less than two weeks abroad now. I cannot believe how fast the time has gone. I was given a take-home final for English, due Wednesday. I've already presented my marketing plan on Shelta Light, an innovative LUNA Bar-esque product targeted at Italian women. My Italian oral exam is on Saturday morning; the written is next Wednesday. My hardest final, Art History, is this Saturday evening. I've got my plate full, although not as full as it could be, thankfully. On top of everything, my immune system has predictably failed, and I'm dutifully battling the common cold with an influx of clementines and Airborne. All in good time.

Switzerland, Interlaken to be exact, was very beautiful. We stayed at this really great hostel, Balmers, complete with red gingham blankets, fire places, and a giant outdoor chess set. It also was home to Metro, the only night club in Interlaken. On Friday, we bopped around Bern, a town about one hour from Interlaken. We browsed through Christmas markets, sampled INCREDIBLE caramels, and sipped spiced wine (that was a bit too pungent in my opinion). We also went to an English showing of Casino Royale, only to run out BEFORE IT ENDED in order to catch the bus back. I liked it though, the parts that I saw. Friday evening, we had a blast at a fondue dinner in our Hostel. It snowed Friday night, setting the mood for a movie-watching, cookie-baking day on Saturday. On Sunday, I woke up with the cold and hung around the hostel, reading while everyone was out and about, jumping out of planes and skiing down glaciers. Don't pity me, though - The Horse Whisperer and I got along just fine. Our bus ride home was quite an adventure. Watching Love Actually and getting that little taste of Christmas was definitly worth the eight hour trip back to Firenze, smudged in the very very back.

Each time I get that comforting feeling returning to Florence after a weekend away, I am reminded of just how much this place means to me, and just how much it has become my home.

Yours,
Genevieve

Pictures to come.

Siena and San Gimignano

Ciao ciao all of you lovely, simply ravishing people,

Currently, I am sitting at a table, in an apartment, on the top floor of a building, in the middle of Piazza Signoria – the piazza voted best piazza in all of Florence by the only two votes that matter – mine and Meg’s. Meg’s family left a few days ago, and they were so kind to invite me to stay with Meg, Meg’s Aunt Suzanne, and Suzanne’s friend Liz, in the apartment. It's been a ball spending time with Suzanne and Liz. They have completely spoiled us and they are so much fun. I've loved hearing about their lives in the cities - Liz lives in New York and works on Wall Street, and Suzanne lives in San Francisco and works for Method. The apartment is the most darling place, and I highly recommend it for anyone looking to stay in Florence. Trust me when I say the location is perfetto.

La Casa del Garbo
Piazza Signoria 8
Firenze, Italia

So that’s the winning address. I’m going to be so sad to leave, but I’m trying hard not to think about it. Basically, it all comes down to this – living in the center of Florence is a privledge. I love stepping outside and experiencing the early bustle of a small city – shop keepers sweeping, fruit vendors unloading their goods, people wrapped up in scarves and down jackets heading to work. I’ve fallen in love with Florence all over again. Living in centro is such a convenience – there is no need to take taxi’s (trust me when I say this saves a ton money), and everything is within walking distance. The last few nights, Aunt Suzanne and Liz have taken Meg and I out for dinner and fancy drinks to Hotel Savoy and really beautiful hotel that overlooks the Arno – Hotel Lungarno. Because the Florence marathon was on Sunday, there has been a lot more people in the city – it almost feels like summer again. When we were at Hotel Lungarno, I spotted a familiar face. Does anyone watch that television show on Bravo called Work Out? During the summer there was a Work Out marathon and I think I watched something like five shows in a row, sadly. Anyway, I recognized Jackie Warner – I bet she was here for the marathon. She and her friend were casually having drinks on the next couch over. Bizarre.

Let’s go back a few days, shall we? Thanksgiving is not celebrated in Italy, and it was strange not to be home for the holiday. Meg’s family was in town and they invited me to celebrate with them – we went to Il Latini and had a wonderful meal. I had met Meg’s family briefly in the airport before we left for Florence, but I loved spending time talking and chatting and getting to know them better. I’m really thrilled because Maura, Meg’s younger sister, is a freshman at Santa Clara. It’ll be so fun to see her around campus once we get back.

This weekend, I went on two school trips for my Antiquities class – Pisa/Lucca on Friday and Siena/San Gimignano on Saturday. Pisa was, well, Pisa. There’s really not much to see there apart from the Leaning Tower, the Baptistery, and the Cathedral. The Tower is quite interesting though – apparently it was three levels high when it started to sink, and in the effort to level it out, the remainder of the Tower was built with a slight curve for compensation’s sake. It didn’t do much good, however, and the addition of six three-ton bells was the heavy, heavy icing on a very big, leaning cake. Mussolini, in all of his humane glory, decided he would fix the Tower once and for all. His brilliant plan included the excavation of dirt under the Tower, hoping the laws of gravity would level both sides. Subsequently, the excavated portion filled with water and the tilt of the tower worsened. Bravo Mussolini, bravo. To date, the Tower has been reinforced with weights and was recently reopened. You can even climb to the top if you would like. I’d maybe make sure my will is in tact first, but why not – go ahead and climb it. The Tower can only fall once, and you might as well be on it when it does. According to Ann Proctor however, the tower is good for another two hundred years.

We had a ball taking pictures of people in that cliché pose in front of the Tower – you know – the one where they try to support the Tower or pretend it’s falling on them, etc. I was laughing so hard because we took it of just them posing, without the Tower in the background. The photos are completely out of context and an absolute riot.

After Pisa, we hopped on the bus to Lucca where we had a really nice lunch and explored parts of the city. To be honest, my most vivid memory is Chocolat, a store where we purchased shower heads and laundry detergent – just kidding! We bought chocolate – delicious, delectable, delightful chocolate. It was such a treat.

Siena, on Saturday morning, brought the same crowd as the day before – we all felt like Syracuse-University-in-Florence-day-trip veterans, showing up to school at 7:30 in the morning. There, I saw my most favorite Cathedral yet – it is so beautiful, with black and white stripes everywhere. Inside the Cathedral is a library where I was able to see really old and really incredible Illuminated Manuscripts.

After Siena, we hopped on the bus to San Gimignano. (This is kind of hard to pronounce. It sounds like San Jim-in-yano). San Gimingano is how I would picture any picturesque Tuscan town – rows and vineyards and olive trees, tons of open land, beautiful countryside. San Gimingano was coined, “The City of Towers,” as it has something like 72 towers (it is a really small town so this appears very impressive). Just as Grecian-influenced political buildings are American symbols of power (think D.C.), the Sienese thought of towers in a similar way – the taller it was, the stronger you were.

Friday and Saturday were just packed, and a very quiet, very sleepy bus pulled up to school around 7pm Saturday night.

On Sunday, I went for a workout and did my laundry – a huge feat in and of itself. I wheeled my smelly clothes in a big suitcase across town (feeling like a tourist), and it took a record 50 minutes! Granted, I did shove everything in there at the same time – one load is so much cheaper than two, and trust me, every centessimi counts.

Let’s see, what else can I say at this point? I’ve decided to stay in Florence this coming weekend. Just being in centro for a short week has really shown me how much of Florence I still want to experience – Boboli Gardens, Palazzo Pitti, that really darling shop kitty-corner from La Loggia. Plus, I’m saving for Switzerland next next weekend. As I don’t have any snow clothing/gear, I was told that I can rent everything for 30 EURO or less I believe. Mom and Dad and Vinnie are probably laughing as they imagine me skiing down the Alps, but if its reasonable, I would love to. I don’t want to be stuck inside the entire time, however I do anticipate doing my fair share of reading and drinking hot chocolate in front of a roaring fire. The fire better be roaring – that’s all I have to say.

I found this quote on the menu of The Fog Diner on the Embarcadero in San Francisco. It reminds me of home, for obvious reasons.

Nothing is more American than a good, solid American diner. Well, except for the Liberty Bell or the phrase “Oh beautiful for spacious skies.” Or a Ford pickup with a green door. With ketchup packets in the glove compartment and meter money on the floor board. Or a white tee-shirt that says, “I’m with stupid.” Or professional wrestlers maybe.

I hope everyone had a wonderful Thanksgiving.

Fondly,

Genevieve

Siena and San Gimignano Pictures

Siena


The Sienese Cathedral


The facade in the upper left hand corner of the picture shows how high they intended the Cathedral to be. Its imperfections make it even more cool, I think.


The interior space.


I just love the columns and the stripes. Everywhere.


The library within the Cathedral that houses all of illuminated manuscripts.


That's a 'G' I believe. It stands for God and for Genevieve.


Seeing these beautiful books reminded me of the summer I spent in school, taking three hours of calligraphy every day for six weeks. I have no idea what I was thinking. Now let's be fair - it can be considered practical knowledge. If I get stuck inside a burning building, I'll just calligraphy my way out.


Sienna


The famous piazza in Siena where the Palio takes place. During the summer months (August I believe), the different neighborhoods compete in an intense horse race around in this piazza. A long time ago, they used to race through the entire city. Because it was (and is) pretty dangerous - the riders ride bareback - they restricted its boundries. It's a huge deal in Siena. People sell seats on their balcony overlooking the piazza for upwards of 2000 EURO.


A darling little girl in a red outfit. There were so many young families out and about.


My shoes came with me. They're a pair of old soles.



I spy a striped Cathedral.


Meg and Kareen waiting for me while I take this picture.

San Gimignano


San Gimignano, tower one.


Towers two, three, and four.



And the Christmas lights are up! That goes for Florence as well - they've hung garlands and beautiful Christmas lights all around the city. I've heard they are waiting until December 1st to turn them on, but I will be sure to keep you updated. I'll even take a few pictures. I'm so excited!

Happy Birthday Mom

Happy Lovely Birthday Mom!



I lub you,
Lolly

Paris

Hello,

In case you were wondering, I had a wonderful time in Paris. I took a night train, leaving Thursday around 8pm and arriving on Friday morning at 9am. It wasn’t the most comfortable experience, as I’m not too fond of sleeping on an elongated seat cushion hung half-way up the wall with a sheet and a hairy blanket (that I didn’t use).

Shan and I were roommates at our hotel, Hotel Rocroy. We checked in, freshened up, and then took off on our weekend adventure. We were to meet our group at the Louvre at 3pm, and we had until then to explore the city. Our first stop – coffee and a French croissant, of course. Then the decision was made to experience the Eiffel Tower – we weren’t sure how long the good weather would last. After acclimating ourselves with Metro system, we chose our route and took of. The Eiffel Tower was beautiful – did you know it was supposed to be a temporary structure, built to stand for only 20 years in honor of the World Fair? I don’t remember the year, but I can’t seem to get over the fact that something that big was meant to be temporary. Shan and I walked up the stairs to the top – the view grew more beautiful with every level. About half-way up is a restaurant called “Altitude 95,” recommended by Mrs. Hryniewicki, world-traveler extraordinaire. The concierge at Hotel Rocroy told us that we wouldn’t be able to get a reservation, but Shan took matters into her own hands. When we reached the restaurant level (I’m guessing about 95ºN), Shan asked if they had any available tables for dinner, and they did! We made our reservation for 9pm. To say we were excited is an understatement – we practically danced down the gazillion stairs to the bottom.

Next stop – the Louvre. I was very excited to see the giant glass pyramid, marking our arrival at the gigantic museum. In order to see every piece of incredible-ness, I think you’d have to dedicate a lifetime. I was glad to go with my Antiquities TA, Anne Proctor. (Side note: That really is her name. Her parents are either big fans of Arthur Miller or they’ve never read The Crucible. Or they’re Puritans). We saw some really great works of art, my favorite being The Mona Lisa, Michelangelo’s Slaves, Venus de Milo, and Nike aka Wings of Victory.

After the Louvre, we returned to the hotel, recharged our batteries, and headed out for dinner. One of my most favorite things about this evening was, right when I had turned the corner and had taken my camera out to capture the Tower at night, it started to sparkle and blink with big, white lights. Everyone should see it sparkle – I don’t think they’re going to take it down any time soon, so please take your time, but do go and see it. Dinner was delicious – we both had this chicken dish, and Chianti of course, my favorite. We were the last to leave, and this time we took the elevator down.

On the metro on our way home, the funniest thing happened. Shan pointed out that the man in front of us was actually stuck, his blue-windbreaker caught between the two train doors. He sort of casually leaned against the doors, acting like he was anything but stuck. He had to wait until the next stop to be set free again. We were laughing so hard, and he looked up and chuckled with us. Ok, maybe you had to be there, but it really was quite a laugh.

Day two in Paris began the best any morning could possibly begin – hot chocolate at Angelina’s, another one of Mrs. Hryniewicki/Jess suggestions. This one was very much appreciated as well – I don’t think I’ve ever had hot chocolate like this. I also had bread and jam, just like Francis (remember, Mom?). It was delectably thick, served in a small pitcher at the most perfect temperature and accompanied with homemade whipped cream. Heaven on earth, I’d say.

After Angelina’s, we walked to The Orangerie, only to find that the museum didn’t open for another 2 hours. Don’t you worry though, we found a quite comfortable way to busy ourselves until then. We checked the map and fate would have it that the Chanel store was a mere ten minute walk from the museum. So we went. It was an experience walking around the fancy store, afraid to touch anything at all. Those stores are always interestingly sparse – a few rooms held no more than three dresses. We found our niche though – the makeup counter. Shan and I each bought a souvenier to mark our Chanel experience in Paris – perfume for Shan and a coat for me. Just kidding Dad. Eyeshadow did the trick. The woman who helped us was darling, and she included in our very chic, very white Chanel bags a plethora of samples. I’ve found a new favorite perfume as well, Allure. It’s wonderful. Oh! I almost forgot – they complimented me on my boots and I felt very cool. We waltzed out of the store, walkin' on sunshine.

The Orangerie was an incredible museum. Here, I was able to see Monet’s Water Lilies. The museum specially designed two rooms to hold these beautiful murals. Monet’s intention was to make the viewer feel as though they were walking along the bank – this intention he most assuredly achieved. Shan and I rented headsets, another suggestion from Mrs. H. Nevermind how tourist-y they made us look. I learned a lot about paintings by Rodin, Picasso, Monet, and other masters.

After The Orangerie, we took the Metro to this really interesting store that I had read about online. In French, its name La Droguerie means “the hardware store.” They didn’t sell tools and nails though – instead they sold ribbons and feathers and buttons and beads and yarn in every color and pattern you can imagine. I could have spent forever in there, matching colors and textures, but the line was so long and, alas we were only in Paris for a weekend.

Shan and I split up for a bit at this point – she was very excited about a certain Starbucks nearby where she could sit and journal, and I was itching to get to Shakespeare & Company, a curious bookstore right across the Siene from the Notre Dame. Jess, a Parisian at heart, told me I must go and that I would love it. I read about the bookstore in Inspiration Sandwich by SARK, an author who traveled aimlessly around Europe when she was younger. George Whitman, the owner (now 90 years old), offered her a place to stay if she read one book a day. Whitman’s philosophy is “Be not inhospitable to strangers, lest they be angels in disguise.” I loved it there – dusty old volumes shelved among newly published novels, ladders to reach the books on the top shelves, a rickety, pinched staircase leading up to the children’s section, the bunks, and a small niche with an antique typewriter, the creaky wooden floor, the bulletin boards with messages left by past “tenants” thanking George for his generosity – the store was very used, very comfortable, and very loved. I bought Breakfast at Tiffany’s and Eloise (my new favorite book).

Shan and I reconvened at the hotel, rested for a bit, read Eloise, and then headed out for dinner. We ate at a so-so restaurant, as we were trying to save money for our next adventure – champagne at the Ritz. We walked in like we owned the place. Through the doors we went (nodding at the doormen), past a parlor (stopping to sit on a fluffy-looking cushion), and down a really long hall lined with cases of expensive things (“Oh yes, mine is very similar, except my emerald sparkles a bit more and there are two diamonds instead of just one.”) At last we arrived at The Hemingway Bar. It was very small and intimate, with dark wood and forest green plaids – very Ralph Lauren if you catch my drift. We were probably the youngest ones in there – most were middle-aged couples. We waited for a table and were first offered a place at the bar. The bartender, upon our request, recited a menu of “three-year-aged” this and “hand-selected” that. We were given a table and then we ordered our drink of choice. Mine was appropriately called “Serendipity,” a drink with champagne, apple juice, mint leaves, and a yellow orchid placed gently on top. I really enjoyed it. Shan and I took a picture (well actually multiple pictures, but only one with a flash) inside the bar, and we were scolded by a waitress. “No no no no we do not take pictures in here.” Yes Mom. In that instant, went from kind of feeling like we kind of fit in to so obviously not fitting in at all.

After retracing our steps and reaching the concierge, we asked for recommendations for a fun place to be on a Saturday night in Paris. He wrote on The Ritz stationary our names and his recommended destination, a club called Cab. Instead of a taxi, we were offered a really nice car to take us to the club. When we got there, the line was pretty long and Shan suggested I show them the card so that we might be let in right away. I did, but I was really nervous and accidentally developed a pretty bad British/Australian accent. The guy didn’t seem to think anything of it though, and Shan and I were elegantly whisked past those waiting in line. The club was really really big with tons of room to dance. I was really hot because I had a turtleneck on – I do not recommend going to a night club wearing a turtleneck. In my defense though, the turtleneck is more Audrey-Hepburn than it is third-grade-before-you-knew-better. Shan resurrected her love for the stage and had a great time dancing with a French guy named Hugh. We left around 1:30am, and as the Metro closes at 1am, we were stuck without a mode of transportation. Our fairytale evening came to a definite close as the first drop of rain fell and we could not, for the life of us, get a cab. Yeah, I know, kind of ironic, seeing as the name of the club is Cab. Finally almost an hour later, we caught one and headed back to the hotel.

Once I got ready for bed, I stepped out into the hall in my pj’s to call Mom and Dad and Vinnie to say hello. I had no idea that my voice carried so much because, at the same exact time, two people opened their doors to tell me to be quiet. I was really embarrassed/startled, so I jumped up, turned to head down the stairs to the lobby, and slipped on the plastic that was covering the steps (apparently renovation = cheap hotel rates). I caught myself, and then tripped again on my pajama bottoms and fell down the stairs. Charming, I know. So is the bruise on my side. It’s quite funny looking back on it, especially because Vince was on the phone. Anyway, I thought that little anecdote might liven your day.

Sunday morning I woke up early and headed to Montmartre. The village of Montmartre is lovely and beautiful, even on a semi-gloomy day. I walked around, bopped into little shops selling French prints and souvenirs, explored around homes draped in ivy, and watched artists painted different scenes around town. Sacre Coeur, a giant church that sits atop a hill in Montmartre, was very pretty as well. Shan and I met up for lunch at La Maison Rose, a quaint and perfect French restaurant recommended by Jess and Mrs. Hryniewicki. I had my first experience with French onion soup. It was very delicious, and according to a certain self-proclaimed French onion soup connoisseur, I won’t find any better. We also walked into the not-so-cute part of Montmartre – our destination, The Moulin Rouge. That was very cool to see as well.

The Notre Dame and its flying buttresses came next, followed by a second trip to Shakespeare & Company. It seems sad to say, but with all of the churches I have seen and studied while abroad, they start to loose their edge and their impressive quality after, say, the twentieth. Someone should make a rule stating that you are only allowed to tour a certain number a churches per month. This way, these gravity-defying feats of architecture can be paid the attention they deserve. The Notre Dame is a beautiful gothic cathedral however, and I really do love flying buttresses. I guess the secret is finding specific things you like best about each and holding on to those.

We returned back to the hotel at 6pm on Sunday, gathered our things, and left for the train station. Although I slept much better on the way back, our train arrived two hours later on Monday morning. And it wasn’t just raining – it was pouring. Shannon and I walked home from the station. It would be a nice pleasant walk in any other weather, but by the time I got home, I was sopping wet, kind of cold, and pretty darn tired. My 9am Prose class was ¾ over at this point, so I just unpacked, hopped in the shower, and took a much-needed nap. It’s good to do something for yourself every now and then. As if the Ritz wasn’t enough.

Well, I knew this would be a long one. Thanks for reading, I appreciate it. Paris was a whirlwind, a tease. I would love to go back one day – there is so much I didn’t see. I really miss everyone. I think I only have about 30-something days left abroad. Are you green-eyed that I’m in the same country as Mr. and Mrs. Cruise? You should be.

“Getting bored is not allowed
Sometimes I comb my hair with a fork

Sometimes I wear my arm in a sling

Sometimes I put a rubberband on the end of my nose

Toe shoes make very good ears
Sometimes I wear them to lunch

Here’s what I like to do
Pretend”

- The one and only, Eloise

Happy almost birthday Mom!
Genevieve Lorraine

Paris Pictures

Day One

The Eiffel Tower

Can you see the tower through the trees?


I love the clouds in this picture.



The view from the top, part 1.


The view from the top, part 2. (There are other parts, but I liked these best.)


Shan with her "freedom fries." I thought that was very clever of her. We grabbed a bite to eat before we took on the Louvre.

The Louvre

Ah yes, the great glass pyramid. I thought this was really cool.


Nike - very Helenistic in motion and emotion that you can almost feel the wind blowing about her.


Me and Venus.

Night 1

Dinner at Altitude 95

Ah yes, the Eiffel Tower by night. I took this picture right when the lights started blinking, ten to the hour. It's lovely.


At the top after our dinner at Altitude 95.


This is the man who got his jacket stuck in the Metro. It's kind of funny, right?


Shan and I taking the Metro home, our first night in Paris.

Day 2

Angelina's

Shan and I at Angelina's for delicious hot chocolate. What a perfect way to start the day.

The Orangerie

This is my most favorite mural he painted, as it is the one with the most yellow. This painting is of the sunset and its reflection on the water.


This was one of my favorite paintings in the Orangerie. Sadly, I can't remember who painted it, but I love the calm colors and the grey wolf-cub sitting on her lab. And I like her haircut.


I love that she's playing with cowboys and indians rather than dolls.


This was a cafe we passed by. I instantly thought of Onnie, my middle-namesake. See you soon Onnie!

Shakespeare and Company

Shakespeare and Company. I swear this couple kissed right when I snapped the picture - it wasn't intentional. But seeing as I had it on my camera, I thought I might as well include it in my blog. Regardless, it's quite a funny picture.


Upstairs in Shakespeare and Company. This is a bunk that doubles as both a place to sleep and a place to sit, as it is surrounded by really great children's books. Written on and taped to the mirror are messages, thank you notes, and father's day cards from past visitors for George Whitman, the owner of the bookstore.


Above a doorway upstairs. This is the philosophy of Shakespeare and Company. I think it should be everyone's philosophy.

Night 2

The Ritz

This picture is really really dark, but if you look closely, it's me! At the Hemingway Bar at the Ritz in Paris! How, ahem, ritzy of me, especially because my drink has a yellow orchid perched on top.


The notorious "No no no you are not allowed to take pictures" picture. It was worth it, I'd say.


Notice the long hallway and the glass cases filled with really interesting things. And notice me, standing in the middle in a frou-frou pose. But I'm in the Ritz so I can pose any way I'd like.

Cab

Shan and I at the club, Cab.


Sadly, I have been replaced. No longer is it Shan and I who dance carefree on stage, but Shan and Hugh, her French lover. Just kidding about the lover part. I love how they are both pointing at me, like, "Hey, look at that girl dancing by herself." I'm not complaining. I like dancing by myself.

Day 3

Montmartre

Ladies and gents, the Moulin Rouge.


Sacre Coeur in all of its glory.


Shan wasn't with me at this point when I took the picture, but I was laughing at myself. Chez ma Cousin. Who knows what that means in French, but I like to say it with a Southern accent. Anyways.


La Maison Rose. I'm not kidding when I say that this may have been the best, most charming restaurant I've eaten in all of Europe.


A pretty blue bike.


Isn't this darling. I loved Montmartre.


A little path I walked up to get to Sacre Coeur.

Notre Dame

Yup. There it is. I was most excited for the gargoyles.


It's really quite beautiful inside, in all of it's gothic glory - a central nave with two side aisles, stained glass windows, pointed arches, rose windows, flying buttresses - the list goes on.


Cheers to that.