Blues in Paris: February 2014

I'm not making this up, the google blog uploader thing just automatically did this to this photo. How did it know? Is this the NSA's latest thing?

Also, you'll all be happy to know that the two front pie war has been won (by yours truly). Paul's Valentine pie was successful delivered on Wednesday after it mysteriously disappeared off his porch on Valentine's Day (I suspect a very strong squirrel in his neighborhood had a delicious, free pie). Emily's ten mini pies from the dubious Mr. Tod also arrived this week, only one month late for her birthday. She says they're delicious so hats off to you Mr. Tod.

Here's a pie!

Here are some more pies!

What's that you're saying? Thanks for the pies, Marth! You're welcome guys!

I'm settling back into my Parisian life after a week back in chilly Chicago for Grandma's funeral, a week full of family and too much food and falling asleep at 9pm on a very tolerant boyfriend's shoulder while watching House of Cards. Following a time so filled with people (and wake-based small talk), my little apartment seems very quiet and after being in the US, the things that annoy me about Paris annoy me with renewed vigor. Shall I share with you?

There is dog poop everywhere. I'm not sure how it became socially acceptable to keep an animal in your house, let alone let it poop all over the place. Get it together people. (Walter, cover your ears, you can do anything you want because you are my auburn angel)
Laundry takes an eternity! I am not lying to you when I say that my machine takes three hours to wash. I don't think my underwear is that dirty.
Rude people that imitate your American accent when you try your best to speak to them in French (I'm talking to you chicken man at the Kleber canteen).
Adults on scooters (not the motorized kind, the foot powered kind). You don't get there much faster and you look pretty silly.
The old style metro trains are organized poorly. And newsflash, Paris metro riders, leaning against the pole prevents ANYONE ELSE from using it. Stop doing that.
The French schedule-- shops are open sometimes... sometimes not... nowhere is open on Sundays and you can't find a damn jar of (affordable) peanut butter anywhere.
Having to go to a pharmacy to buy Advil or any sort of painkiller. Just let me buy it from the Prix' (Fran or Mono)
Everything is so expensive!
No one makes eye contact. No friendly nod to a stranger or smile on the street. That's not a thing here apparently. I've been told that if you smile at someone, they think you're hitting on them. Don't flatter yourself, old woman on the metro.

Ok. I'm done (for now). I live in Paris and I just was very sobered by 12 Years a Slave so I really can't complain (but I will). I am very grateful for the opportunity to be here. It has been a challenge but also a growing experience. And there are of course things about Paris that are unbeatable (the weather this winter for example). Let me just list a few so you don't think I'm the most unbearable curmudgeon (just vaguely unbearable as you all knew me to be before):

The parks- Jardin du Luxembourg is a favorite
The amazing history-- it blows my mind that Notre Dame is 850 years old.
The cemeteries! Pere Lachaise is a wonder.
Pastries and bread and pastries and bread and bread and bread and bread
People dress well. No sweatpants on the streets here.
They've got the welfare state thing down-- they are better to their employees (10 weeks of vacation. Nuts), the gap between the rich and the poor is much smaller, they have universal healthcare and universal preschool.
The sparkling Eiffel Tower. Can't beat that.
Plus it's Paris! I wake up every morning and if nothing else, I can say I live in PARIS. That is pretty crazy.

I'll leave you with another plus-- the fact that I can find a street named after Nicolas Flamel.