Sunday, September 10, 2006
Home again, Home again, Jiggity-Jig!
Wow, what a trip! It was a fabulous time but I did miss home a lot. Apparently home missed me as well because I came home to 44 e-mails, most of them notifications for blog comments(thank you!) and Word of the day e-mails (did you know that "pervicacious" means stubborn?). Alright, well I'll be posting my Paris diary entries here for the next couple of days. I'll try to write 2 days worth of diary entries for every post I write, so I'll get back to blogging about things non-Gallic in 4 posts. Also, a few more notifications: I'll try to upload pictures from the trip on to here but I apologize if they don't come immediately, (I'll have to catch up on schoolwork after missing the first few days of Grade 12 ) and whenever I mention the word "we" it stands for myself, my Aunt and my Uncle.
September 1st, 2006:
-Stupid Mistake of the Trip #1: Forgetfully leaving both pairs of shoes I had planned to bring at home. Necessity called for a pair of comfy shoes so I went to an Ottawa mall and ended up with a decent pair of black Aerosoles with a white bow on them from Winners. Nice shoes, but hardly worth the last-minute stress.
-Stupid Mistake of the Trip #2: Public fucking transport. If only being a fashionista could guarantee the use of your own private jet...Whenever I travel in public, (be it by bus, train, boat or airplane) I am hounded by Pervs, Mutants, Territory Invaders and Wailing Infants. Though the former are generally used for city busrides, even a "Premium Economy" flight is not free from the latter. Pardon the grumpiness. I'm riding an overnight flight and it's setting in while I try to calculate how much french caffeine it will take to endure 28 hours straight of conciousness.
September 2nd, 2006: Let's paint a picture of Paris in the morning. Cigarettes litter the ground, as do men wearing tight Eurojeans and women in ballet flats and scarves. Sunrise is beautiful and I feel like a junkie, but don't look like one at all. After glimpsing myself in the bathroom mirror, I actually look pink and healthy. While by natural standards, my hair should feel greasy and my makeup crusted, it passes for "effortless" in this state. Maybe I should travel more often...I can't believe I'm truly in Paris right now. I saw the Hilton hotel and couldn't help but chuckle at seeing the real Paris Hilton. Too bad I didn't get a photo.
-"After a cafe au lait and a croissant, I perked up and began to observe the style of French filles. Thank God, every single one of them is a fashion individual. I haven't seen the same article of clothing twice, and probably won't throughout the entire week. Footwear is another story though. I always thought ballet flats were cool, but I doubt there's a hip girl, young or old, in Paris who doesn't own a pair. It doesn't matter if they are plain metallic or glittery, they are the most obvious signifier of good taste I have seen so far. Actually, Paris seems to be filled with age-defying people. Just earlier, I saw a 40-year old woman wearing Converse and a polka-dot dress over skinny jeans. It's refreshing to see the middle-aged take on the hipster trend...."