Well you Parisians, you tried to deceive me, but I’m on to you…. I figured out your little secret. You may have convinced me that you all are naturally beautiful and skinny despite eating a baguette on the metro on your way to work each day. You may have convinced me that no exercise occurs in your daily life. And you may have convinced me that you don’t wake up before 9 in the morning unless you are walking your extremely small dog (In the mornings when I run, it feels like me vs. the fidos of Paris). I’ll admit you almost had me. But I figured it out! THERE ARE POOLS EVERYWHERE. Literally a “piscine” on every corner. There is one right across from the park I go and stretch/work out at and finally I noticed the pool. When I peered inside, I did not see just a few people swimming laps. I saw at least 50 people all crammed into about 5 lanes. At first glance, I momentarily thought that it was the French synchronized swimming team, but no, just a whole bunch of Parisians swimming in the morning.
See! It exists!
Another little tidbit from my day: tomorrow marks the day that I have been here FOR A MONTH. Craziness, I know. So Diana and I decided to splurge and go out for dinner to commemorate. I took it upon myself to choose the restaurant (find a restaurant or do my homework? Hmm, tough choice). And then I realized that I should call and make reservation. I knew what I needed to say in French and called the restaurant, here is the conversation:
Me: Bonjour, je voudrais faire une reservation, s’il vous plait. Hostess: Bonjour, oui, quelle soir? Me: Ce soir s’il vous plait? Hostess: a;sdfiljaiajsdf;ilajvkajhd ;ajdfi;cajhdlfuiadkfjaidjf après akjdfa;ldkjf du soir. Me: pause…(I surprisingly understood what she said, but I was pausing because I didn’t know if I needed to say the time in european time [19:30] or not [7:30 du soir] Hostess: You speak english? Me: …yes, sorry.
[rest of conversation transpires]
Me: merci beacoup, bonne journée! Hostess: yes, thank you, bye!
The actual funny part was that Diana and her friend were in the room, so all they heard was “yes, sorry” and then the rest of my conversation in English. I was doing so well I had thought! Oh well….
Oh and one last thing, I would like to recognize the fact that this morning I received a comment on my blog from someone very special. Yes, I received a comment from Mrs. Ronnie Schwartz, Emilie’s grandmother. I am very pleased to discover that this is one of my loyal followers, but would like to take a minute to highlight the fact that my blog is read by family and my best friend’s grandmother. I am obviously a hit with the older crowd. And I imagine this is because inside, I’m really a 70 year old woman trapped inside a 20 year old body. I mean, my middle name is Paulian, so clearly my fate was predetermined. Knitting, glasses, going to bed at 9:30 and wearing lots of floral print..sign me up. This gal right here is a septuagenarian and proud of it. Nana K and I have had many a conversation over the perks of being older, my (very lovely) cunning grandmother always uses her age to her advantage. Example: when she had to pull over at a police check-point, I believe she said “Little old me? With my white hair?” Yes, that’s my Nana. Oh I just realized the connection! My Nana and the Parisians are extremely clever…