St. Paddy's Day Parisian Style

Tonight Molly and I had planned on going out with a bunch of people for St. Paddy's Day, but it didn't work out. My French friends ended up going somewhere else, my American friends decided to drink beforehand and were too drunk to stand straight, let alone find a pub in the middle of the city, and a certain Italian was like "I have 'jet lag' from moving to a new place." I wanted to say, "Pansy! Molly and I have real jet lag and we're still going out." But I resisted. Mainly because the term "pansy" is hard to explain through text message.

That's right. Giovanni moved to a foyer outside of Paris. It's very sad, but I'll see him again eventually. Though not if he's going to be a pansy about going out. (I'm being cruel, I know. I feel bad for him even though he's never going to read this.)

It turned out ok, because Molly and I went to a place that calls itself the oldest pub in Paris and had a ton of fun. There were a lot of Irish people there, surprisingly. Most people were speaking English. Molly and I really want to go back there one night. We were shocked at how crowded it was. Apparently, the French really want to celebrate their Irish roots, too. Afterwards, we walked around looking for McDonalds, but couldn't find one open. I'm not sure how Irish going to McDonalds is, but we didn't care.

Dublin was lovely. I got to see all my Loras roommates. Their jet lag surpassed mine by quite a bit. It was nice to be one of the normal people. We all went out drinking on Friday night at one of the pubs. We saw a lot of tourists in green hats. We also went to the Guinness Factory one day. I'm not going to lie, I got a soda at the end instead of my complimentary Guinness. Nothing against Guinness, I just hate it.

Tomorrow I get to see a ballet at the actual opera house that the Phantom of the Opera was based off of. Molly and I are really excited, and have been singing Phantom songs all week in preparation. Everyone is probably really excited for when we stop. Little do they know that we will probably continue even when it's over...

A Man Walks Into a Bar...

Last night, Giovanni and I went to an Irish pub with 2 Frenchmen, 2 Finnish girls, and a Mexican girl. When I texted this to Michelle, she replied "it'd be funnier if you were with a priest and a rabbi." Sadly, none of them could be convinced to change their vocations based on how funny I wanted my life to be.

Giovanni and I met one of the Frenchmen on the metro on the way to the pub. Giovanni's over 6 feet tall and his friend was even taller, so I looked like one of the munchkins from the Wizard of Oz standing next to them. I had to cran my neck up to even see their faces. I couldn't hear what they were saying because they were so high up. It's hard enough to understand French, but it's even harder when it sounds like it's coming from far away. I should probably buy a ridiculously tall pair of high heels to fix this. I'm not sure they make foot-tall high heels that I can actually walk in, though.

I guess the night did end up helping me with my French. The guys were all trying to help me and so they had me explain "wingman" and "take one for the team" in French, which turned out to be slightly easier than I thought it would be. I'm so glad they wanted to know such wholesome, family-friendly, American slang. I felt like a horrible person when I was saying things like (in French), "Ok, so 'take one for the team' is when there's this pretty girl who has a not-so-pretty friend and your friend 'takes one for the team' by distracting the ugly girl so you can get with the pretty girl." When I asked them what the term in French for this was, they laughed and said, "There isn't one. We don't need anyone to help us get with a pretty girl."

Clearly, European males lack self-esteem.

I found out last night that Nutella is Italian. I should probably have already known this (just by the name), but I just assumed it was French. Oops. Because I have utterly failed at researching this fabulous product, I looked up some information. Apparently there's a World Nutella Day that nobody told me about. I missed it! Next February 5th, I'm going all out. Nutella for everyone! I'll hand it out on my campus and everyone will be like, "This is really creepy. What's wrong with you?" But then they'll taste it after I convince them I haven't poisoned it, and they'll ask me if they can be my friend. Really, you can't not want to be friends with someone who gives you food.

Speaking of people giving food, my parents are coming! I'm very excited to see them again. I have no idea what we'll be doing, but I'm sure it'll be fun.

And now, I'm going to take a nap. One of my French teachers has been a little too excited about giving us a lot of homework, so I need more sleep.