A day in Paris.

I started school today. !!!. And I met my new housemates. !!!. 

Started the day by sneaking through my housemates' bedroom while they were sleeping to get to our bathroom to have a shower. Then decided it would make too much noise and probably wake them up. So I just brushed my teeth and put on the phurrr hat so no one could see my non-washed hair. After I'd met the girls and we'd had breakfast I regreted this decision very much. Unfortunately the morning had reached its point of no return as the other two still hadn't had their showers and we had to leave in half an hour to make it to school in time.

We made it. Got to meet our teachers. Unfortunately I have two very handsome French men as literature and history teachers. 

After this we went to have lunch with the school. I wanted  an americano before the food, so I ordered one. Turns out, in France an americano isn't coffee. Not at all. Especially not before the food. It's a huge glass of campari with bits of lemon and orange with LOTS of sugar glued around the edge. Ew. This was at noon. I really was not ready for something like that. When the waiter understood that this wasn't what I'd tried to order he encouraged me to drink it and said it was very very good. Don't know what he did to his tongue, but something must have been wrong with him because that WAS NOT GOOD. Of course one of the handsome french teachers had to come over right after and talk to us. He clearly saw my apertiff so I had to stumble away in French and explain the situation (as we were not supposed to order alcohol on the schools bill...).*

Before taking a sip of my Americano. 

After. Or maybe in between. Not sure.

Nothing as exciting as this happened for the rest of the day really. I got to talking with one of the teachers for French 1 (I'm doing French 2) who's name is Eirik. He's been living in Paris for a year and a half, speaks French really well, goes to Sorbonne and works at the Norwegian embassy. Very inspiring and such a nice guy. 

We also got tickets for the New York Ballet at the Bastille Opera next Saturday. We won't see much, but it'll be worth the 10 euros still.

Vilde and I drank tea at this super cute cocktail bar-turned-café-in-the-day on Montmartre. Sofas with big, soft pillows, wobbly tables and a bartender who couldn't speak English. I really like it when they can't speak English because then I have to force myself even harder to speak French. I learned a new word. Miel = Honey.* I also went shopping for groceries today, and, turns out, grocery shops here don't give out plastic bags. You can buy them, but preferably you should bring your own. I find this very discriminating towards all students moving about. This means we all have to buy plastic bags for our trash! Maybe we'll just quit throwing things away and swim in it instead...

These thoughts tell me I should go to sleep. Good night. 

*Flause #1.

*I ordered mynthe tea.

Bisous.