It really has. My semester of death at UF is nearing it's end, and now on Thanksgiving Day, I thought I'd make a little time for Paris.
We've been in Italy for too long.
But honestly, the huge delay is partly because I couldn't find the last page of my itinerary while I was in Gainesville, and it's gotten to the point where I need it in front of me to refresh my memory. At least so I can write this chronologically. Now that I'm in Apopka, I found an extra itinerary, so we're back in business!
After a three post digression, I think it's time to take everyone back to Paris.
I've missed it.
So let's see. I hop off the bus, and I'm at Porte Maillot. Bit of a back track. I already told you guys in the P.S. from the previous post I made it back to Paris without a hitch, but I didn't give any more details.
So I got off the bus straight from Paris Beauvais airport. I was finally home.
France.
Finalement. Now I just had to find the metro so I could get back to Malakoff. I started following the signs, but I still wasn't seeing that familiar stairway. Even though they literally head into the ground, those metro stairways were more like a stairway to heaven (Led Zeppelin?). I knew if I could find one, I'd never be lost. I kept going that direction, and I suddenly recognized a handsome fella from the bus wearing some Italia shirt walking past me. He, apparently, was also heading to the metro, so I followed him (way less creepy than it sounds).
When I found the metro, it was all good (except for that vending machine not working). I was hella soif and craving some Orangina like nothing else. But the good news is, class was starting two hours later than usual the next morning.
So looking back at the date of my pictures, I'm pretty sure Monday was the day we went to this pretty cool museum.
I took pictures of some of the cooler things.
The original Blue Man Group (except there's one—whatever just let me have this)
Yep. That's considered art.
It's pretty awesome.
There was something really freaking cool about this fountain that Pierre (my French art professor— cliché for the win) told us about, but I can't for the life of me remember. Merde.
Maybe some fact about the random, modernish artwork on the fountain?
Welp, that was the art class. Who knows what happened in the UF class that day.
OK, let's move on to a day I actually remember. Tuesday.
Nope, that's pretty blank too. It looks like art class was at the API center, and for the UF class "Film" is on the itinerary.
That must've been the day we saw "The Class." Or ""Entre les murs" if we're going by the French title.
Netflix it, people. It's like Freedom Writers, but more realistic and with less Hilary Swank jaw.
I recommend.
Well, that was Monday and Tuesday. Really tragic post. But no worries, Wednesday and Thursday will be better. I remember more from those days. I got some stories.
Crois-moi, brah.
P.S.
This is my last week in France, btw. In case you all were wondering when this blog would ever end.
P.S.S.
I'm no Akeelah or anything, but I consider myself a pretty decent speller, so why oh why is it so difficult for me to spell itinerary? POURQUOI?
