"Virginia is the state of love man"

St Patricks day in Paris...

No one wears green. The pubs are packed with Americans and sleezy Europeans trying to pick up Americans. But they do make cute little shots called "Baby Guinesses" with Kahlua and Baileys. Without a doubt, the best part of the night is when Shania Twain's "I Feel Like a Woman" comes on the sound system.

On the way home, some guy hears Gulfem and I speaking English and we get the oh so familiar question "wait, where are you guys from!" We're not in the mood to do this conversation over again so we don't answer, but this guy isn't giving up so fast. He looks at me and goes "what? you think I'm just another thug?" I get defensive and answer, "wait wait wait you don't know me!" We then come to find out that he went to high school about an hour out of Richmond. When he finds out we go to school in Virginia, he replies in perfect English "Virginia is the state of love man" then gives us a red rose and and shouts something in perfect French to his friends and goes to join them.

After a bit of a rough week, we all decide to go to Les Printemps for tea. They have set up a small Laduree tea room decorated like Alice and Wonderland. Of course when we show up, the room has already been shut down and we have to setting for mediocre Italian food. Diana decides this is because she walked under a ladder a week ago. Gulfem doesn't believe me when I tell her that "periwinkle" is a real word. At the end of the meal, the waiter comes up to us and tells us that he is lonely and him and his friend work all the time and they need women or something to that extent. He then starts yelling to the other waiter that he has a table full of students and makes some joke about us all leaving the restaurant together. I mean, the guy doesn't even offer us free wine or dessert. Clearly the man has zero lady skills.

On the walk to the metro, Sarah and I try to figure out what I'm going to write for my French fairy tale due in roughly two hours. We settle on something that's the little mermaid, the 13th year, and environmental activism all thrown into one. And now while I'm supposed to be editing this mess of an essay that I wrote in the wee hours of the morning, I am blog posting and checking up Spain pictures on facebook.

Starting today, I'm going to do more things you can only do in Paris. For example, after class I'm going to Musee D'Orsay to hang out...or something. There have been talks about going to Disneyland Paris tomorrow and clubbing for Diana's birthday on Saturday. Eventually I'll write about the rest of Spain.