I don't want to leave

I met Meest and L at La Society, the restaurant thing, across from the oldest church in Paris, that seemed super snooty. It was.  But the food was good. I walked up to the table while they were mid convo but as soon as they saw me, they both screamed. It made me feel so good to have people from home as excited to see me as I was to see them. 

They ordered fois gras that Meest lumped onto her toast, a lovely rocket salad with balsamic and figs, buratta that logan wanted without the tomatoes and haricot vert. The mains were left to M and Mama Mia.  Meest got spaghetti with mushrooms and Mia, some tuna sashimi with jalapenos (it was really good). 

Logan's friend Penelope and her boyfriend came to join us just as they finished the apps. She is a very sweet Parisian girl who speaks fluent English and looks exactly like GM, a friend from home (whom I miss). When we were done, the six of us shoved ourselves into the car. I was smashed in the front seat with Log.  It took forever to get to the place in the 3rd because people were setting up for some marathon along Rivoli. We arrived down the street at our destination.  I begged L not to unbuckle the seatbelt and open the door because I was 100% going to fall out.  He did both and I stumbled out of the car, he came right out after me so I went to take a step back and tripped over the median and fell flat on my ass.  "My ass was everywhere on that floor".  Not only did I eat it badly and ended up laying in the street, there were about 40 people waiting to cross who I subsequently flashed while in the process of dying on the other side of the road.  Everyone scurried to help me up, the worst part was that I hadn't had anything to drink. 

We arrived at this really nice one bedroom, open apartment right off of one of the main squares.  I'm not exactly sure whose apartment we were in, but Meest, Mia and I ended up laying on the woman's bed, under her mosquito net singing songs from Mulan and the Prince of Egypt.  It actually took us youtube to figure out the lyrics to that Mariah Carey, Whitney Houston jam, When You Believe.  I totally forgot that M is a singer, so I sounded like a dying animal next to her.  She didn't mind, she was frolicking in her own wold, that I was lucky to be a part of.  

After a bag of almond cookies and begging for about 30 minutes to leave, we finally left.  We were off to Maxims.  I didn't know until we got there that it was that famous chocolate place.  Luckily I sat in the back so I wasn't liable to die again on our way there.  We went right inside and sat down at a table where we drank champagne.  I kept asking Mia where the free chocolate cookies were.  Well, there were none (obviously). The place was extremely funky looking inside, the people almost funkier.  There was a skinny asian man dressed as a woman gypsy with a shiny gold turban on his head.  After 20 minutes of blocking cameras and being harassed and stalked by a lovely designer, M and I went upstairs to use the restroom. Before we went up the stairs Mia had looked around, noticing how empty the downstairs floor was. I suppose that everyone had gone upstairs to the bathroom because there were about 20 girls in line. A woman came up after twenty minutes of us waiting and pushed us to the front of the line. The girls started raging, saying that they had been waiting for 30 minutes.  I found it almost impossible, but I also believed it. I didn't have the heart to cut the ladies who had been waiting for so long so we left.  Meest made friends with a giant stuffed ostrich  (what is with the french and taxidermy-ing EVERYTHING and putting it on display). I wish I had the photo to show the quirkiness of the place. 

We blew that cupcake stand ASAP and went to a place called Montana close to my apartment (thank the lord). It was a small, dark club with a bar on top with a lounge feel then a bar with some sort of small area for dancing downstairs. I was introduced to some girl that my sister knew from working at Carolina Herrera (I think).  Meest and I finally got to go to the bathroom when we got downstairs. Two girls came out of the bathroom before she went in, I'm not sure how they fit into the thing, it was tiny.  I tried going into the men's but it smelled super funky. Meest waited for me when I came out of the bathroom.  I washed my hands and tried to turn on the hand dryer.  It didn't work so I punched it and she pushed it so it worked.  Once I was done she stuck her head under the fan making sure I saw her lips and mouth moving with the strength of the air coming out. (oh boy)

 I went back to the table where the tall skinny blonde was and sat down. Logan and Mia had disappeared by that point and so had Meest.  I sat bopping around for a few minutes before M pulled me to the other side to another table. I took one look at the company and whispered/screamed in the club "look at that small man".  She turned to me and said, "thats Mr. Alaia". 

Gosh, my sister would murder me for not knowing that one.  Immediately I thought "an a-what-a?" (for all you Clueless fans out there).  I spent sometime dancing around watching the african woman in all white dance on the table in a white burlap material thing (potentially a dress). 

All of a sudden Log stood up and leaned over the table. I looked up to see who he was talking to and I saw a bundle of red curly hair (curly haired fuck) and saw that I was Lindsay Lohan's right-hand firecrotch man Patrick Fdhsuofjgdkump (or something annoyingly impossible to pronounce).  Then I looked back at the table and all of a sudden sitting there was a blonde haired mess next to Mr. Alaia.  I saw her and clutched my purse and picked up Meest's lovely Dior clutch.  Lohan was looking up at the african dancing woman as I had, but she grabbed the table thinking that the barefooted dancer may fall off. As soon as I saw her I knew it was time to go. It was late and I didn't want to be out anymore, although I had an amazing night, potentially the best since I've been here. 

M told me to have her driver take her home (thank god), so I hopped in with Penelope and Penelope's boy and we drove off into the night. 

The next day I was supposed to go to Normandy, but I knew that there was no way that I could have made it with only 3 hours of sleep and a class the next day at 8:30 am. I do however wish I had gone.  Instead, I had an insanely lazy Sunday. I walked to Rose at about 1:40 hoping to god I would make it before they ran out of food.  

I made it and sure enough there were three friendly faces dining in the back.  Sandy, her husband Alex and Shibani (in all her Sunday glory).  I shared a table with the cutest little girl and her handsome father.  She kept changing seats to sit next to her papa. They were both looking at a book (looked like Where's Waldo) and she was pointing to things and saying what they were (to the best that I could understand). 

I must have been a mess, because she kept looking at me. She and her father both ordered some cheesecake.  She ate a bite and he ate all of his. 

When they were done eating Shibani sat with me and we walked back together. It was so insanely hot.  Shibani insisted that we take photos on Pont Neuf (the bridge) with the Eiffel Tower in the background, so we took about three before someone was asked to step in.  

Yesterday I decided to practice for the first time, of course I chose the day when most every market is closed.  I chose a relatively easy thing to bake, a dacquoise. There is only 350 g of butter in it! (only in the buttercream).  At first the cream wasn't participating as I needed it to, but it was because of the heat, so I popped it in the fridge to let it cool off.  After I put it into the fridge it started to look normal. The actual cake part didn't come out the way I wanted it to, it was slightly dense in places due to a lack of proper incorporation. It was really pretty after I piped it!

Today we had a practical at 8:30.  I made the executive decision to leave late enough that I wouldn't have enough time to stop and try anything (smart).  I also realized that I think I've tried everything on my route to school.  I must find a new place to scout out.  This morning we had another nice lecture from who I once called Hottie Chef.  I'm pretty sure PMS Chef would be more like it at this moment. He went on about something (one good reason I  like not speaking French, when he yells I have no idea what he's saying so obviously he couldn't be yelling at me).  I hoarded all my cookies so I could bring them to P and L.  I also stopped at Poilane to bring P his favorite cookies. 

I just found out that I wont be able to stay in Europe after November 25th so I am slightly less enthusiastic about everything.  There is a visa limit in the Schengen Zone (most of Europe) of 90 days, so I have to come home in November.  Most of you will be happy, but I'm not.  I suppose I'll just be at home baking everyday if you feel hungry.  I'm also thinking about doing a food tour of the US although I'd rather not eat there.  Feeling a bit down today.  But I'm waiting on a package from my uncle so I'll be excited when it comes! I need a p.a.c. 

I look at this photo when I'm upset and it makes me feel a little bit better and slightly creeped out.. This is the fascinating translator we have, and this is him looking at me. 

Bisous 

***** AWINTERNOTINPARIS:

I HAVE FOUND CHEDDAR, WE ARE SAVED... its a bit different, but I think it will do. Don't worry, I have pepper.