Tous les cours ne sont pas si affreux…

As many of you know, I have been trying for the past week to switch out of that cours affreux (awful class), Les Grands Enjeux Scientifiques.  Because Sciences Po has not heard of, or does not believe in having an add/drop period, this has been extremely difficult to do.  Fortunately, I managed to sweet talk the little French receptionist into switching me out of that class and into a different French lecture class (can I get a ‘merci Dieu‘ anyone??).  The class is called Une Histoire politique de l’ère des masses en Europe (a political history of the people of Europe).  It seems like it will be pretty interesting because it covers issues such as the two world wars and how they affect a people, the role of nationalism in state-building, and so on and so forth.  It also works out really well in my schedule; even though I no longer have those glorious four-day weekends, I still have Fridays off, and I don’t have class until 7:15 Monday evening.  This means that I can leave Thursday evenings or Friday mornings to travel, and don’t have to be back until Monday afternoon.  Almost as good as a four-day weekend!

Anyway, the switching of classes meant that I had the discussion aspect of the class last night (the other aspect is a lecture).  There were 17 students, most of whom were either French or English (who seemed they had been studying French since before they emerged from the womb).  My professor was a large, pretty intimidating Frenchman, who pointed out several times that he was a fan of the traditional Sciences Po methodology (read: LOVES exposés/oral presentations).  Although I understood most of what he was saying, I was still a bit intimidated by how well everyone else seemed to speak French.  We had to pick our exposé date, which is a really intense process; the professor reads off a topic and date (if you’re lucky), and before he even finishes his sentence, dozens of hands shoot up in an attempt to get the best dates and topics.  The French students have obviously have much more experience than us poor exchange students, who end up with the most inopportune dates and the least interesting topics.  I fared no better than most, and ended up with the Monday after our winter break, which means I will have that hanging over my head for the entire week.  I suppose I should just stop worrying about it all, as I can take one class pass/fail, and also…I’m abroad.  Grades and school work should NOT rule my life this semester.  Or ever, actually.  But particularly this semester.

I stumbled upon another stupid French policy today: the return policy.  Or should I say the lack thereof.  I bought what was supposed to be a pretty good straightener for 40 euros about a week ago, tried it, and realized it was awful.  Since I only used it once, it was still in fabulous condition, so I just repackaged it, threw it in its original back with the receipt, and trudged over to Galeries Lafayettes (which is a HUGE department store, and quite beautiful, too) with Kelsey.  After being shuffled around from cashier to cashier and waiting in line after line, I finally end up speaking with a grumpy guy at customer services.  I explained to him my problem, and told him that it didn’t work.  As soon as I said this, he took the straightener out of the box, walked his skinny, French buttocks over to the outlet, plugged it in, and said ça marche (this works).  He then refused to let me return it, exchange it, or receive store credit.  WHAT IS UP WITH THAT?  I feel like in America, you could return half a tube of toothpaste if you really wanted to.  I was très fâchée (very angry).  I think I’m going to try to sell it on e-bay; it’s not a bad straightener, it’s just not the right one for my hair.  PLUG: anyone want a BaByliss Wet/Dry Ceramic Straightener?  I’ll sell it to you for what I got it for…

Anyhoo, after all of this, we came back to our apartment and made some lunch.  I had cute little ‘tuna toasties,’ as Kelsey called them, which consisted of some fresh pain complet (whole-wheat bread) topped with balsamic glazed tuna, emmental cheese, and cherry tomatoes.  I roasted these little buggers in the oven, and they tasted absolutely scrumptious.

For dinner after class, I met up with the three nicest, most fabulous girls ever, Kelsey, Melanie and Chrissy.  We walked down Saint Germain and Saint Michel a bit to get to the Latin Quarter, and ended up finding a cute restaurant called Le Menhir (note: the picture to the left was not taken by me; I found it on Google.  Once again, I didn’t have my camera on me…sorry guys!).  Their prix fixe (fixed price) menu looked pretty good and was reasonably priced, so I decided to go for it.  For my entrée (which actually means appetizer in French), I ordered soupe à l’oignon (French onion soup)…OH MY GOSH, I cannot believe I have never had it before!  It was just a bowl of gooey deliciousness, and it was pretty much a party in my mouth.  I could have left satisfied at that point, but I was just beginning.  Next came my plat principal (main course), which was le veau en sauce aux champignons (veal in a mushroom sauce) with a side of cheesy potatoes.  I paired it with a glass of Merlot, which tasted like an odd combination of grape juice and rubbing alcohol (description courtesy of Kelsey); not the best.  Anyways, I finished with an excellent raspberry souffle, which was doused in a vanilla cream sauce.  The girls and I also traded bites of each other’s dishes, so I got to taste some coq au vin, a savory crêpe, and a cheesy torte…thing.  The atmosphere of the restaurant itself wasn’t the greatest, in my opinion; the waiter wasn’t the most personable, and there was a cat that kept walking around and creeping up on us.  Overall thoughts: YUM.

I don’t know how to extricate myself from the passionate affair I am having with French food.