Weekend action

Despite being in Paris, I'm bored. Our classes are 3 1/2 hours long, and being very in style with the french education system, we don't ask questions, we just absorb as much as possible, given its THREE AND A HALF HOURS LONG.

Friday,  I invited some of the IFE clan over for a drink. One kid showed up with two huge backpacks, explaining that his homestay situation dissolved into a total shit show, and he was technically homeless for five days until he moved into his new apartment. I insisted he pass on a hostel ( I know all too well how those things operate), and crash on my spare bed. He slept on the Murphy bed in the living room until yesterday. He was a mix of Woody Allen and a Judd Apatow character. I miss his panicked rantings.

We went to a rugby game on Saturday at the Stade de France outside of the city. It was Toulouse against....stripey blue team. We never could find out, being too embarrassed to ask the rabid fans sitting around us. We pieced together the rules with help from my previous exposure to the game, but we mainly drank beer, talked about chicks and movies and ate hot dogs. Sorta like Giants games back home, except the hot dog was in a baguette.

Sunday, Adam slept all day like a 20 year old hungover college student, and I paid homage to the Eiffel Tower, my guilt of not visiting the symbol of France finally becoming unbearable, despite it peeking its cheeky little head between buildings at pleasantly unexpected moments. I walked home along the Seine, passing the Musee D'Orsay, Pont Neuf, Boulevard Saint Michel, Rue de Mouffetard, ending finally in my neighborhood, Chinatown, where the Chinese New Year was coming to a loud (fireworks) and smokey (again, fireworks) finale.

Adam left yesterday. He also left a bottle of gin and a box of cookies hidden in an empty cabinet in the bathroom. Did I say that I missed him yet? Oh well, new apartment tomorrow.