"So I was just dripped on by some dead people..."

I started my second week on class on Monday- Art in France from the Renaissance to Impressionism. I like the fact that I'm finally getting my routine established; just being in a city like Paris already puts me out of my element, so a routine that gives me some sense of normalcy and comfort is definitely much appreciated.

On Tuesday, I booked all of my travel for the next two months- although I don't know if my debit card appreciated the work out I put it through. This coming weekend, I'm going to Normandy and Mont St. Michel with all of the students from ISA. Next week I'm going to Toulouse with Joscelyn- her cousin goes to school down there and lives there with her boyfriend, so she's letting us crash there, which is really nice of her. Then the weekend after that, I'm off to Milan, Italy to visit Jen! Girl, if you're reading this, you have no idea how excited I am- I'm missing you way too much! And I've never been to Italy, so that definitely makes it even better! And me and my darling brother finally firmed up our plans for Germany during my spring break- I really can't wait!

Wednesday was the day of the dead- legit. One, I felt dead- for some reason I didn't really sleep well the previous night. Two, I visited the Catacombes of Paris. Why? I'm not really sure since I'm not too found of dead things. Or creepy things. And defintely not dead, creepy things. The Catacombes is one of those dead, creepy things. (About the catacombes- long story short, in late 18th century Paris, the remains of the dead people buried in the cemetaries started leaking into the water system, so the bodies were dug up and tossed together into an old mine to consolidate the remains, protect the water supply, and provide more land for building. Although whoever moved the bones didn't just 'toss' the bones like I said. It's more like skillfully arranged- you'll see.)

So yeah, this place was creeptastic. And claustrophobic. We had to walk down these skinny, spiral staircases forever, then walk through these tunnels that you could barely walk through if you're taller than 5'8". And then when you got to the actual rooms where they kept all the bones, there's so much moisture that it accumulates, then "rains" on you. Yeah- wouldn't you be grossed out?

Yeah, those are all bones. And skulls. And you could see how some of them were killed execution-style. Great way to start the day right?

Wednesday, I also had my Contemporary Art class, which was 10x better this week. We actually went to the Musee d'Orsay and just looked around and discussed what we saw, we we liked, what we didn't like, etc. It was really helpful for those in the class who didn't know a damn thing about art/didn't care, to see it up close and personal and find their own connection to the subject. And I got to wander through a museum for 2 hours and have it count as me attending class. Awesome. It definitely made up for me getting dripped on by dead people in the morning. Later, I went to the movies with my two roommates, Ana and Daniella, and some of Daniella's friends. We saw "Black Swan." It was 18 shades of f-ed up. Seriously.

Thursdays are my toughest days, class-wise. I have my French language class in the morning from 9am-12pm, then French history from 2-5pm. Six hours of class completely in French is rough. Don't get me wrong, I love that my classes are 3 hours, so that I only have it once per week and then it's done. But 6 hoursof class in an 8-hour time frame is pushing it. So I rewarded myself for another week completeed with a croissant-amande. It's a flattened croissant that's slightly sweeter than normal and covered with almonds and powered sugar- it kinda tasted like French toast, which I am severely missing right now. I miss all my breakfast foods.

On that note, I have eaten some more "French" foods. I've had my first crepe (with Nutella- the only way to eat one, in my opinion), my first escargot (not bad- kinda spongy, ike a mushroom maybe? but completely drowning in a basil-garlic butter so naturally I ate all of my allotted portion), and my first shrimp with the heads and legs and stuff still attached (kinda awkward to disassemble). Louise is a really good cook though, so I just eat whatever she puts on the table- I have faith in her cooking abilities. Although I do miss my mom's pot of Sunday gravy. I may start a countdown until I can have it again- I know I could make it here, but it just wouldn't be the same.