Au Revoir Cergy

One year later and I’m heading out to Cergy for the last time. I have to deal with the devil bank and meet with my career counselor. I guess BNP isn’t exactly the worst bank in the world, but French banks have yet to centralize customer information so I have to go to my home branch out in Cergy to get things like printouts of my statements. Of course! C’est impossible to get this information at one of the hundreds of branches in the city. I guess that’s what you get from banks that don’t actually have money at the branches, which begs the question of why the branches invest in heavily secured entrances that only allow one person to enter at a time.

It’s weird to think that there is another class now in my old classroom, but I’m also glad that I’m not in class anymore. If I had only known how little sleep I was about to get for the next 3 months at this time last year . . . . Well, I probably wouldn’t have done anything differently. Last night I had a too much cheap wine and too little dinner so I’m feeling just about the same way that I usually felt at 8:00 in the morning on this same train during the school year.

I officially graduated two weeks ago! I am now part of the “Christian Dior Couture Class.” That sounds fancy doesn’t it? The ceremony was really nice and most of the class was able to make it back so it was nice to see everyone. We were very international indeed! Meeta wore a sari, Akiko I. wore a kimono and Suen wore a traditional Korean gown. They made my black dress look très boring, but I had brightened it up with some pretty pink shoes. If I had known so many girls were going to wear their cultural best, I would have donned my old deb dress and talked like Scarlet O’Hara all night.

Mom was able to come over at the last minute, which made all of the graduation festivities seem much more festive. I was happy that she got to meet all of my friends and that I got to show her my favorite places in Paris. We had a great time for the week and ended the adventure with a visit to Giverny. So here are lots and lots of pictures of flowers:

Paris & Giverny

Carey and Elizabeth also came to graduation and proved that they are some of the best soirée-goers in Paris. After setting up shop near the bar, they entertained guests all night. Every time I went over to say hello and get a glass of champagne, I swear they had made new friends. They are also expert party givers. I confirmed that fact last night, which explains why I am still in my pj’s at 3:00 p.m. Ugh. I feel like I’m revisiting college a bit. I probably should get it out of my system before I head back to New York and have to act all adult and responsible every day.

I will have lots of pictures from graduation later – I want you all to see that I did, in fact, graduate.

EDF(you)

So Carey and I received a 700 euro electricity bill this month. Let's just ignore the fact that out of the 9 lighting aparati we have in the apartment, only 4 work 75% of the time, 2 work about 50% of the time and 3 have been on strike since September and refuse to work at all (these were made in France). Then, we have a total of 3 heaters, only 1 of which actually works "sort of," as in we have no control over the amount of heat that comes out because the dial broke.

Anyway, besides the stove, microwave and toaster oven (which, by the way, is TOTALLY out of control and has destroyed one Pylones travel coffee cup and a loaf of bread due to its turning on whenever it feels like it -- actually, the bread could possibly maybe have been the result of my not turning said toaster oven all the way off) we don't have anything else that uses electricity. Well, there is the hot water heater, but that can't use all that much because you can't take more than one and a half long showers in a given day. Then there is Carey's alarm clock and the TV, but we don't even watch that much TV because all French shows aside from the Double-Dare-esque game show called "En Ze Boite" (translation: En Zeee Box) are dumb.

The point is that I have no idea how anyone in their right mind could think that we used 6000+ kilowatt hours in 2 months, when we have never used more than 300. That's not the most interesting part of the story, which does go on to include an encounter with an electrician and a disappointing visit from the EDF lady, who might just moonlight as, oh, I don't know, the Devil!

No, the most interesting part of the story, in my opinion, came when I spoke to the nimrod at EDF. So I'm going through the bill and the fact that it seems entirely bizarre bizarre that all of a sudden we would use more electricity than the Eiffle Tower does at night (6000 kw would actually keep the thing lit, sparkle and all, for 3.7 days and nights. I know because I looked it up.) and that, unless he tells me that everyone in Paris had a 700 euro bill this month, we were not paying. I decided that it would be entirely appropriate to use "C'est impossible!" as frequently as possible. I said it about 8 times. It seemed to have no effect.

Suddenly, oh so many things were possible! It was possible that we used too much heat. It was possible that they had underestimated previous bills. About 4 other logically impossible things were now also totally possible!

Alors, I've had to tweak my "C'est impossible" theory a bit. It seems that a thing is "impossible" when that thing would require someome to perform work. If a thing's being impossible, however, actually requires more work, then suddenly that thing is completely "possible" because it's being possible means that someone else is to blame for it.

To sum up, "c'est impossible" really means "I do not feel like doing anything else about your problem." Interestingly enough, when a French person says, "but of course, this is possible," it also means, "I don't feel like doing anything else about your problem." It's confusing, I know. You really have to live it every day to understand it in your bones.

And the List Might Be Longer Than I Thought

Ce n'est pas possible:

• to deposit bills and coins in the same envelope (or plastic bag, rather) at the bank
• for the bank to post said cash deposit
• ergo, for the landlady to stop harrassing the old tennant

Also, c'est impossible for the RER train to run without certain disaster between Paris and Cergy when I'm on it. Interesting.

Finally, c'est impossible for the man in our French class movie to eat anything at the restaurant because his stomach was upset. My question to that situation was, "Why did he go to a restaurant?"

It's Monday Alright

Not much time to write so just a note to let you know what is "just not possible" today.

C'est impossible: withdrawing more than X euros cash out of your own account with your own check card at your own bank because that particular branch is not the actual branch at which you set up the account

Interestingly enough, I need the cash to pay rent, and I have to deposit said cash at the landlord's original account's bank branch in the 19th. I don't even want to know why all of this has to be done in cold hard cash . . . .

A Bad Week, A Good Dinner, Tout Est Impossible and Les Rêves en Francais (et Espagnol)

Monday October 15th – Friday, October 19th

Hmmm . . . a bad week. I don’t quite remember what happened so it must not have been that bad. Most likely, it was too much work and too little sleep.

I do remember having a good dinner with Marta and Meeta. Meeta makes the best chicken curry. It’s the first Indian food I’ve ever liked. Then Marta is such an excellent cook too and she always brings thinks like Spanish omelets or tapas to the table. I just try to provide wine and entertainment.

“Tout est impossible” must refer to my learning that the French actually do believe that many things are, in fact, impossible. And I’m not talking about things like living underwater in a mermaid village or flying to the moon with wings made out of tin foil. I should further explain. Below are some things that are “impossible” in France:

• Going in an exit, despite it being physically possible
• Cancelling my lease contract
• Picking up your residency card before the school has called you, even though the school knows that the card is at the Préfecture and the Préfecture knows that the card is at the Préfecture (the way around this dilemma is simply to lie and say that the school called you)
• Almost anything you want to do at the train station
• Picking up dog poop on the sidewalk
• And my personal favorite: Doing anything one simply does not feel like doing

Actually, I’m going to start a list of impossible things. Let’s see what we have by summer.

Finally, les rêves. I do remember this happening. I was dreaming in French and then in the dream, I was supposed to take Spanish lessons. I was all upset, though, because I knew a few Catalan words, but nothing in Spanish. Needless to say, I was confused the next morning.