French toast.

So there I was, strutting my stuff down an avenue off the Champs-Elysees, feeling ever-so French with my ever-so French outfit (almost all shades of brown - tights, boots, skirt, shirt, coat, and a green scarf) - when all of a sudden, one of my shoes slipped off my foot and I tripped on the sidewalk. I tried to recover gracefully, but knew it was useless when a man across the street yelled over "Sans regarde!", meaning, "Nobody saw it!". Maybe pretending to be Parisian will take a little longer than I thought.

And speaking of Parisians, today was our first full day of orientation in Paris. We learned the important stuff, all about how to access our bank account, how to recharge our cell phones with minutes, etc etc. We also learned all about culture shock, which made me a little more at ease. You see, my host family isn't trying to be cold or rude by not showing me around the house on my first day, or locking Chloe and I into our petite éspace (and, consequently, out of theirs), etc etc - they're simply French, and this is their way. Still, it's a little hard to accept. So, the French lifestyle is all about you assimilating into their culture - they won't go out of their way to make you happy, they won't make eye contact with strangers, they won't make conversation for conversation's sake, they won't offer help unless you ask for it. Very hard for this smiley American girl to deal with. Oh well, "on doit s'adapter à ses environs." Roll with the punches.

Tonight, Sara and I went to see the Eiffel Tower - it was so so beautiful. So much prettier in person than any photograph or Delaunay painting. We had ourselves a good time: