Spectacular Spectacles

Axel Jouaret is a star. He sings, he dances, he plays the guitar, he acts, he is 14, he shines, he plays the piano, he speaks English really well, he has great hair, he makes the girls go crazy, he wears white tennis shoes, like I said; Axel Jouaret is a star.
Since I've been here he has had 3 spectacles. I have never actually looked it up but I am almost positive that the meaning of the French word spectacle translates to something like show...or perhaps spectacular, or even the English meaning of the word which I think might mean that you draw attention to yourself. Either way it works.
The first spectacle I am sorry I missed out on while I was in Paris.
At this performance Axel was a singing Dolphin. Boy am I disappointed I missed out on that one, he had a costume and all.
The second specatacle was last weekend and it was a grand production with all kinds of people and it was a little more fancy. I got yelled at for taking pictures inside of the theatre before the show started, but I whipped my camera back out for the finale anyway. So glad I did too because even though we were all the way on the top row in the second balcony I still caught Axel trying to take off his shirt at the end of the show...he never disappoints. Oh Axel Jouaret, what will we do with you? Better question is, what will I do without you in my life? Pictured to his right is his blonde Girl Friend Charlotte. She is the one I ran into him with on the Point du Jour after school. They were kissing and things got really weird really fast. But I think weirder for me because I'm not accustomed to so much public making out in the US.Back to the spectacle, it was a learning experience for me, it was like nothing I'd ever witnessed before. After it was over gobs and mobs of middle school age children massed together to first run through the fountains and then second to have a screaming/jumping/twirling photo shoot that must have been at least an hour long. I have never been kissed by so many strangers in my life either. As I sat there like an idiot amongst the parents not understanding what was going on I was getting kissed by other people's Moms, sisters, Grandfathers, dogs, you name it, they were kissing me. I think for the most part people didn't know I was an exchange student and they just thought perhaps that I was Axel's special cousin or something and they didn't want to be rude. During all of this commotion Elliott was off by himself at the top of the steps like a lost puppy. I eventually joined him and he said to me, "You seem a little bit lost." and I said "Yes Elliott I am lost, I have no idea what's going on." And then Elliot said, "Don't worry, I don;t either, Axel's spectacles are always like this, they're a mess. I am really hungry." Which then spiraled into a conversation where Elliott and I occupied our time by naming off all of the food we love to eat thus making ourselves more hungry.
After the modeling session was over it was 10pm and everyone was a little bit grumpy hungry. The only problem was that there was only one place left open right near by and it was a salad place which was not tripping everyone's trigger. They weren't impresses, but I was. You got to pick your salad, your bread, a drink (there were an astounding number of drinks to choose from including wine which made me giggle. I guess I am in France, but still, we were eating at a very fast foody restaurant) and a dessert. I kind of wish that we had a place like that in Missouri, this was all for seven Euros. Not bad, eh? I chose Vitamin Water and didn't think anything of it but everyone else was very interested in it. Apparently it rarely exists in France and nobody had seen it before. It will take over soon I am sure, At dinner I sat with the adults who were all really interested in speaking English to me. Martine kept telling them to shut up and speak in French but it was useless because every five seconds I would hear things like, "CHAIR-EEEE, This is cherry. How you say box? This is box!" And every time my host family asked me a question in French someone was quick to translate it to English for me, as if I hadn't been responding to my family's questions in French for over a month now.
The best part is that afterwards we had a couple of the families over to out house for a soiree to celebrate the spectacle. While the parents were smoking, Leo and I were eating peanut butter out of the Jar together and ice cream out of the tub. That was very non-French of us but I think Leo secretly desires to be American. He enjoys my guilty American pleasures (AKA food) as much as I do and looks for opportunities to exploit them. When the families got ready to leave, Charlottes mom approached me to give me kisses on my cheeks, but Fred stopped her and said, "she is American and she likes hugs." So I got the biggest hug ever from Charlotte's drunk Mom who then said, "I love on this street in house twenty-free. Come visit the twenty-free." Then as she parted she waved to me six or seven times and exclaimed, "HELLO!" because she thought she was telling me Good-Bye. Fred and I kept laughing and she kept saying "Hello." I liked that.
The next spectacle was Tuesday night: Romeo and Juliet
From what I gathered Axel played the role of Romeo's cousin who wore creepy clown makeup. The play was completely acted out by people ranging from age 12-19 and Juliet looked like a total slut. I didn't take her picture because I felt really awkward doing so. In each of her outfits her boobs were hanging out and two of her dresses were transparent and her undies could be seen through them. I kind of spent the whole play thinking it was just me who was feeling uncomfortable by her scandal but as it turns out the first thing that was said when we all piled into the car was, (in English) "Juliet had huge tits!" Okay, alright, so it wasn't just me. Juliet really did have big bosoms and I wasn't the only pervert staring. We talked about Juliet the whole ride home. She was a little bit overbearing for a Juliet. I think that's the nicest way to put it.

After this show we had the Garnier family over. Conveniently enough the Garniers have three girls, all the same age as the Jouaret's three boys. Louise, the middle Garnier, was also in the play with Axel. The youngest one is Jeanne and the oldest is Marie. I love Marie because she is Leo's best friend and she is at the house often. I am deprived of female friends here on the Point du Jour since I live with three brothers. This soiree Leo, Marie and I passed the evening eating some kind of Fench equivalent to chex mix and watching all of the finest French Youtube videos. And then I introduces them to awkwardfamilyphotos.com because it only seemed right. And while we are on the subject of Axel, please have a look into his room. He has the room with the red door, oh yeah and the Orlando Bloom and Johnny Depp posters. I do love my Axel.

Nonsense

This weekend half of my class mates headed down South to Saint Tropez- A place the French describe as being very Cliche, very expensive, and very famous for celebrity vacationing. While all of that sounded thrilling this girl did not have the funds to sponsor the trip or really the desire. Why not go somewhere on the coast that is just as beautiful, less touristy, and less expensive? Some things we'll just never know. Besides, there was a train strike on Thursday so everyone planning to go to Saint Tropez had to wait an extra day and pay for the hotel room that they never stayed in that night. Emily here was so frazzled about it that she dropped her Saint Tropez diet and went crazy at the vending machine. You think I'm kidding, I'm not. She requested this photo after exclaiming "Screw Saint Tropez! I've cracked! I've cracked!" With all of the commotion of the day everyone was a little bit on edge. Even me. I cracked too and bought a whole Brioche to share with myself over the weekend. In class nobody would focus because there was a retirement/public transportation strike happening out of our classroom window and the guy in the crane was wearing a sombrero. When you can't beat 'em, join 'em, that's what Soya must have decided because she ended up taking the class outside where we participated in the retirement/ public transportation strike. There was a woman singing something over a loud speaker in French. I couldn't interpret her words, but even in French I knew that she sounded horrible because everyone was covering their ears. Her voice was shrill. I think one could call it a little overbearing even. If that voice wouldn't drive the French government to change their ways I don't know what would. Soya disagreed, she said the French strike too much now for it too be effective. Soya is so wise. And in case you were at all curious, which I know you were, this is what a French hotdog looks like. We went to eat afterwards and this is what I discovered. A north African Sausage tucked snuggly between a baguette with cheese crisped on top of course. I am normally not a fan of the hotdog, there is something about them that I just can't handle, but the baguette was a nice spin on an old friend.


And in case that food wasn't quite French for you, I got tres Francaise when I arrived home for the evening to discover that we were eating snails for dinner. It was possibly the best escargot I have ever had surprisingly enough, however I did not go as crazy as Axel did. After he picked the snail out of the shell he would then such the juices out. You're welcome for sharing that.
On Friday everyone of my classmates was gone for good so I passed the day exploring on my own. When I woke up in the morning I thought I was home alone so when I took a shower I also took the liberty of singing in it. Guess who emerged from his room after my shower? Leo. Had it been Axel we would have been even considering one time Axel walked out of the shower naked not knowing I was around, but it was Leo and therefore I was slightly embarrassed, but also glad to be wearing clothes. Poor Axel. The rest of the morning I spent wandering the Point du Jour Market and chatting with Leo about how men in France wear Capris. Then Leo and I took the bus together, he went to his internship as the glasses shop and I went to the Musee Beaux Arts. It is apparently the second largest in France but on thanks to the Louvre it as well known. I must say thought that it was a beautiful day so I spent much of my time sidetracked. Pictured above is a bunch of "MacDo" (Frenchy word for McDonald's) sitting on the lawn. I took this picture because French people are always complaining about how much they HATE McDonald's, how they NEVER eat it, and how that it the source of America's obesity. Wouldn't they be embarrassed to see this picture of themselves? Also if the French really never ate MacDo'd then they wouldn't exist in France. France claims MacDo is a MacNo but I don't believe them for a second. Nonetheless it was a gorgeous day in a gorgeous city. The river looked especially charming so I walked along side it, sat next to it, talked to it, took pictures of it, but did not get in it. If you eat fish from the Rhone or the Saone you get ill because the water is so polluted. Yikes. At the art Museum I found some Monet and Renoir again which was kind of nice since seeing it at the Musee D'orsay was like shopping on black Friday. I also saw a smaller, less green/moldy copy of the Statue of Liberty. USA is A-Okay. After the museum I walked all over town and meandered home slowly. I had the urge to buy a baguette and eat it for a late lunch and I did. I didn't think much of it at all as I sat there on the steps of St. Jean Cathedral devouring the thing until I noticed tourists taking pictures of me. And then it hit me, all of this time I have probably been photographing people who I think are cliche Frenchies when in reality they are probably just overly zealous tourists like myself. Do real French people eat a plain baguette for lunch? Probably not. They eat their baguette for dinner, for breakfast, but with lots of butter. Anyway I am glad that someone took a picture of me stuffing my face with baguette, perhaps they have a blog and someone is contemplating my Frenchiness. After all of that commotion went back to 7 Bis Impasse du point du jour only to find a slightly distraught Leo- He got a 42 Euro ticket on the bus for staying on too long. In case you wondered what a French ticket looks like, I took a picture. I also told Leo that in the US I could have gotten out of this ticket by being a girl, flirting with the cop, or crying. I also bragged that here I could tell the cop I was a stupid American and I didn't know better. Someone was jealous. I retired home for the evening and watched Baby Geniuses dubbed over in French with Elliott. I knew exactly what the movie was the moment it came on but when Elliott started explaining it to me like I didn't know, I went along with it for the sake of listening to Elliott try to explain the concept of babies being geniuses. It was all too perfect for me. So perfect in fact that I fell asleep there and Elliott woke me up and told me it was necessary for me to get in my bed. I feel like the roles should have been reversed there, but the Jouaret family was too quick to figure out that I fall asleep any time anywhere and they enjoy mocking me for it, just like everyone at home.

Paris Je t'aime, but only for a weekend

I woke up bright and early, before everyone else, again, because that's the story of my life. So I wrote some postcards from Paris. I suppose I felt fairly productive. After Breakfast the whole class met again and headed out together for the Musee D'orsay. It was miserably cold out, windy, slightly rainy, and very gloomy overall. So what luck we had to wait in line for two hours to get into the museum! Half of the class ended up leaving to do something else because waiting wasn't exactly ideal, but I personally really wanted to visit the museum because it houses a large portion of art work from the famous impressionist painter and Jennifer Fleming like that. All in all the wait was not horrible. I hid in my raincoat and listened to Blind Pilot most of the time. The music was very calming and I enjoyed my wait to be honest. I took the picture with the elephant in the background for Liz because it made me think of her. Besides that our wait was entertaining to say the least because everytime the line snaked around to a certain point our group was even with the two men pictured there who were shamelessly checking out Steven. They were together, but at they same time they were also checking out his butt together. Perhaps they were interested in some menage trois, but who am I to speak for them? I don't think I need to speak for them, I think this photo speaks blatantly enough. Before entering the museum I was told I could take pictures without a flash. Lies. There were signs everywhere in every language that said I couldn't use my camera. I decided however that I would try to use my camera anyway until I got yelled at. I snuck in one single shot before a small woman came running after me saying "in your sac! in your sac! now!" Her Franglais was more than enchanting for me to hear and the shot of naked, romping Fairies was well worth the while. It's my petit souvenir from the museum.
We spent about an hour wandering the museum, checking out all of the Mone Gogh t, Manet, Renoir, Van... everyone exciting and important. While I really enjoyed seeing the famous pieces in real life I was also rather tempted at any given time to touch the art work and to tear it off the wall. I don't know why but for some reason those urges prove hard to tame in fancy art exhibits. After our hour long galavant our class re-grouped at which point in time Julia and I decided to go see the special exhibit for an extra Euro. The exhibit was all about crime and punishment (Mom would have loved it considering there was a lot of art about the beheading of royalty and serial killers). I thought that the exhibit was interesting but by that point in time it was 2pm and I hadn't eaten since breakfast so something about all of the guillotines and paintings of cut off heads was making me woozy. When Julia and I left the exhibit we were supposed to meet Laura at the cafe on the bottom floor where she was supposed to be eating, but somehow she had mysteriously disappeared. We therefore spent the next hour and a half running around the museum looking for her. I was flinging open bathroom stalls thinking she had passed out in one while Julia was calling everyone she could to see if they had seen her. As it turns out there was a misunderstanding and professor Snape, in all of his glory had insisted that Laura leave the museum with him and that Julia and I knew that she was leaving. Evil plot? Peut-etre. JNSP. After finding that out Julia was so worked up she started crying and we were so hungry/thirsty that we were both on the verge of passing out ourselves so we made a quick exit toward the nearest restaurant.
Do you want to know what turned our frowns upside down? We saw the massive pack of roller bladers AGAIN! Encore, Encore, they came back for us! I still don't understand what such a large group was doing in their roller blades, and I kept wondering had they stopped since Friday night? Is this a cult? A marathon? Just for fun? I'm not really sure but I am considering staring a roller blading club/cult when I return to Kansas City. We can dominate the roads and attract tourists to photograph us. Nonetheless I think our rolling friends were a sign because just as we saw them we also found a small cafe. At the cafe we had a really obnoxious waiter who said everything in French and then repeated it over agin in English as if he couldn't just choose one. Perhaps he was trying to impress us with his whiney English but I was certainly not in the mood to be impressed especially after he charged us 4 Euros each for our water. Salot. (You are welcome James). I was however proud of myself for clearing my plate like any real French person would. The French do not have garbage disposals and therefore they literally wipe their plates so clean that they shine like they're brand new.
We decided to check out Notre Dame Cathedral before we left. Afterall, it's Notre Dame, and what's Paris without Notre Dame? I guess one could argue that Paris is still many other things without Notre Dame including the Eiffel Tower, gypsies, you get the point. But truly, Notre Dame was much more impressive than I imagined it to be. On the way to the Cathedral I discovered this jewel here. When I saw it I stopped in the street and said, "What is MALLORY doing here!?" This looks exactly like her, right down to the bangs, the cats, and the purple (possibly blue) cropped sweater. I could not get over myself. And then right after this we passed this homeless man who was holding his two dogs. My emotions were on overload and I didn't know whether I wanted to sing or cry or dance...it's probably a good thing that Notre Dame was our last stop in Paris.
Notre Dame was alright from the outside, but the thing that caught my attention the most was not the architecture or the grandeur of the building, but rather this girl who had birds fluttering around her fingers. And it wasn't even the fact that their were birds swarming her hands that got me going, rather it was the fact that she was loving the attention SO MUCH. She stood up there forever striking one pose after another, giving the crowd her best sexy face, her best pouty face, her best wink, her best constipated face. She LOVED the attentions those birds were giving her and she loved the attention that those birds were getting her. I bet she would be really pleased to know that she's in my blog and that someone in Missouri is looking at her giver her best carefree-having-birds-on-my-hands-is-normal face she ever did give. And finally one last hurrah for Paris, please allow my to present you with my fair lady, Notre Dame...

It was absolutely stunning on the inside and the pictures can really do it no justice.

Day 2 Part 2 Paris Edition

The second part of day 2 started at the Louvre. The whole class was supposed to group up there so that we could go to the wine tasting together. When I arrived Professor Sipe was on a bike and asked if anyone wanted to ride. Nobody wanted to ride. He acted really sad and I felt bad, besides, I enjoy bike riding, so I volunteered to ride. It was actually pretty neat too, I got to cruise around the Louvre for about ten minutes. Things got awkward for me really fast when I pulled back up to our group ringing the bell and I realized that everyone had been getting yelled at and was still getting yelled at for complaining too much. Professor Sipe kept saying over and over agin that we were wasting time complaining meanwhile I was thinking that he was wasting time yelling at us. And indeed he was.
We were twenty minutes late for our wine tasting, which did not make the California wine snobs that we were doing it with happy. I think they were pretty put off by the fact that they waited extra time in a musty Parisian cellar for a bunch of college age students, half of whom aren't even legally able to do a wine tasting in the US. Anyway the tasting was actually very intense and very educational. A black French man with A British English accent (SWOON) taught us everything we ever wanted to know about wine-how to swirl it-how to breath air into it-how to smell it backwards-how do decipher the age and location of the wine by color and legs- the list goes on. After each wine we tried the California wine snobs would say something like "I taste a hint of mushrooms and cranberries and probably some Oak tree too." I don't know where they were getting that from because frankly all that I tasted was communion, but I guess that's not the purpose of a wine tasting now is it? After the wine tasting Olivier once again had us chasing him all over town. Somehow we ended up in the red light district where I saw more naked women at one time than I'd ever seen in a lifetime. I don't know why Olivier took us there because he does not like women, but it was sad, rather disgusting, and I had to pee really badly the whole time but could not because I felt like If I didn't stop in brothel I would be stopping in a Kebab shop and the Kebab shops in that area were probably 10 times creepier than the peep shows. I digress.
Anyhow eventually Olivier led us to Montmartre, an area that overlooks the rest of Paris. It was really very beautiful. As we waited for our food we visited another very beautiful church, looked out over Paris, and watched a Mime. Funny thing about that mime- he wasn't a very good mime to begin with, but after dinner that same mime came up to us and asked us for directions somewhere. I don't know who but someone in our group said to him, "I thought mimes didn't speak." But what stood out to me the most was not this, but rather the fact that he spoke English to us. That's what really made me suspicious about that mime. He's a fake!
We ate dinner at this place. It was pretty non-desrcript, just a normal French restaurant, but what made the place was that it had this rather crazy looking French woman singing in it and this woman was LOVING Olivier a lot. She kept asking him for requests and making him dance with her. We were probably the last people in this place because were were being so entertained by this woman. And it became evident that I did not really pay money for a great dinner but rather for a wonderfully nutty French woman to entertain, to woo me, as she frolicked around me and sang things I did not comprehend. Afterward we parted for the Metro to go home. Before we got on Olivier made us wait. He came back with pot leaves. SAY WHAT!? No, but for real, he came back with raw marijuana and made us sniff it to confirm that it really was the real stuff. I didn't understand, did he have a seed planted in his packet or what? I honestly have no idea where he picked that from or why he was so proud of it, but I think it's at that point in time we decided that we needed to cut Olivier off from the wine and send him home for good.
On the metro on the way home I discovered this awesome station where the whole ceiling was a giant crossword puzzle. I was tempted to spend the night there and search for words until the sun rose but decided against it in the end. Day two in the city of love had worn me slick and I was ready to dream in my bed for the night.

Half of day two in Paris

I woke up on Saturday Morning feeling surprisingly chipper after my 2 hour long run-about Paris the night before. Maybe it was because Chuckanucka was on my shirt, or perhaps it was because I was in Paris, or maybe even a mixture of the two, but nonetheless I was eager to commence my day as was Chuckanucka (Chuckanucka is the figure on my shirt. For anyone reading this who has not had the pleasure of meeting Chucka, he is a feisty character and he loves milk. That's all you need to know.)
I went down to have breakfast in the hostel cafe. The hostel is I think, primarily a youth hostel, therefore it was decorated with every bright color you could imagine. It reminded me of Elizabeth's room when she had the Orange and Pink stripes on the wall. Let's just put it this way, I wouldn't want to have the stomach flu and be in that hostel, the colors were slightly overbearing and joyous all at once.
After everyone had gotten up and the troops were rounded the rest of the morning was spent on a wild-goose chase through Paris. We followed Prof Snape's very excitable, very flamboyant, very energetic friend, Olivier all over town. I don't know where we were most of the time, I don't know our reasons for marching to and fro from one random destination to another and I think that the trick was that Olivier didn't know either. He was just babysitting us, trying to wear us out, and also looking for an excuse for more time to enjoy flirting with two gay students in our class. Poor Olivier didn't have a chance though, he is 41, a bit too old for his 20 year old crushes.




We ran through many covered alley-ways, raided a few candy stores, bought some delightful goodies from some patisseries, found this very creepy head statue, and went to a store full of cookbooks, just to name a few of our destinations. (I took a picture of the pumpkin cook-book with thoughts of my father and James in mind, I know your love for pumpkin and nearly bought the book, too bad the French use different measurements than us!) Looking back I realize that perhaps the theme was food and that's what our parade was all about. It's still fuzzy to me, Olivier was sending too many mixed signals.

I also ran across the man playing his saxophone on the Seine. Once he realized I was stalking him with my camera he posted up on the wall like France's next top model. I think it was his sexy pose and Tyra would be proud. He was certainly being modely and a model.
During our 2 hours of free time Julia wanted to take a boat ride, so we did. The boat ride may not have been the best idea, it was 58 degrees, windy, sprinkly, gray, and my water bottle spilled all over my bag and pants, but once you see the pleasures the boat ride had to offer, I think you will agree that it was indeed a great idea.
Not only did we get to see great views of the Eiffel Tower, Notre Dame, etc, but we also got to experience the bast of Asian culture in France. The boat was an asian invasion. The guide read everything off in 7 different languages, but I think it's safe to say that we were the only once listening to to English or the French and that most of the crew would have been happy with only Chinese. The passengers had lots of spirit, lots of cameras, and lots of different poses. While I should have been taking photos of important landmarks, I was too engrossed in capturing the moments of my fellow shipmates.




Photo one: Friends help friends light cigarettes in Paris
photo 2: This woman was doing everyone's hair! Who doesn't need a new hair-do for a boat ride?
photo 3: Man in the Rose glasses was a photo whore. He was posing left and right in everyone's photos and really enjoying it more than he should have.
photo 4: They kept putting their hands up like we were at a theme park
photo 5: The closest think to Sea world in Paris was the Dolphin used for disposing cigarettes. That's Paris' idea of a theme park.
Also from the boat we got mooned twice and I failed to capture the moment on my camera, but still soaked up the excitement of the moment anyhow AND we spotted our assistant Sarah and a fellow classmare Scotty making out on a bridge over the river. So scandalous, so Paris, so...?!?!?!?!
We'll just let that thought simmer while we move on with the day. My class was going to meet at the Louvre for our degustation du vin (fancy schmancy wine tasting) at 5pm. Sounds simple, but I was very distracted by plenty of things along the way. That is the glory of Paris, the people are NEVER fail to entertain, and there is always plenty happening to keep the mind occupied. One of the Greatest mullets I ever did see.

A man yelled F***ing Dyke in my face really loud when I took this picture and then followed me down the street and muttered to himself for a while until he got bored.
That's a DOG in that STROLLER.
Looking fantastic for a leisurely Saturday Stroll. I had to. Couldn't help it. Not my fault they were in a public place.
Prom Pose by the Pyramids
This woman was trying to get these two men to pose for a photo but they wouldn't stand close together, they just stood there with that awkward distance between each other and looked really serious for a few minutes. She tried to rearrange them but this same pose kept happening.
After this I met with the rest of my class. That's the end of the first half of my second day in Paris...