bon anniversaire

So faced with the prospect of sitting alone and friendless in my room for my birthday drinking cheap wine, singing ‘All by myself’ and getting that much closer to alcoholism fueled by depression I decided to send Alex an email last minute asking him if he was busy for the weekend and that it was my birthday on Sunday. The guilt worked and I got myself invited to a party at the Bear’s Saturday night.

Unforch Alex had plans all Saturday so I had to find a way to entertain myself until then. I decided to head into Paris early and check out some of the sights. Which sights I wasn’t quite sure because the day before, just as I was about to do some internet research at the school I got kicked out of the cafeteria by some dude. The odd part about that was that after he told me to leave I packed up my stuff and when I tried the door I realized that he had, in fact, locked me in.
So the timeline goes: He sees me in the cafeteria. He asks me to leave. He knows I haven’t left. He locks the door anyways. I don’t know how that’s suppose to work but luckily he sees me frantically try to break myself out of the cafeteria, comes over, and lets me out.

Anywho armed with my dictionary and metro map of Paris I got on the train went into the city, solo. Still I had to decide where to go.

Being a cultured person only through mass media the only three things I could recall from the top of my head about Paris were the Eiffel Tower (as seen on many keychains and t-shirts), the Louvre (Da Vinci Code) and Notre Dame (of Hunchback, Disney fame). Having seen two out of the three already, Notre Dame it was.

So I use all of my life skills and bad French to traverse Paris’ extensive weblike metro system and get to the Saint Micheal stop. Tired from so much thinking I decided to sit for a while in front of the Notre Dame and take in the view.

That’s when I noticed the Birdman.

At first I thought it was common scene of a father and son feeding the birds but then I realized something peculiar. I started to notice that the boy could not feed the birds by himself. He needed the birdman’s assistance.

As in without the birdman, the boy would put out his hand full of food and the birds would ignore him. The birdman would then grab the boy’s hand, lift it up and the birds would come and eat out of his hand. If the boy should lift up his hand in the same manner as the birdman did before by himself, the birds would not come. Once the birdman touched the boy’s hand with his hand, the birds would come.

It was really odd. People would see them feeding the birds and come over and try to feed the birds themselves but they just wouldn’t eat from anyone but the birdman. I watched as person after person, standing right next to the birdman would try to feed the birds without any success.

He noticed me staring at him and beckoned me over. And with his help I got an amazing shot of the Notre Dame:

After my encounter with the birdman I got into the long line for entry into the Notre Dame.

So I’m waiting in line and halfway through I notice the sensation one should not have if one is traveling by oneself. It is the sensation of having the small of one’s back rubbed. I quickly look over to see who the hell is rubbing my back and see an older gentleman looking away from me and happily rubbing away at my back. He turns to me with a smile on his face. The smile quickly fades followed by a look of shock, and utters “You’re not my wife.”

So I look at him like "duh" and we both turn around and I see an older woman staring at us with the justifiable look of “what the fuck” on her face.

I guess when everyone was moving up in the line he must’ve taken a couple more steps more than his wife and landed next to me and decided to show his affection to the person next to him whom he thought was his wife but wasn’t and it lead to a very awkward and uncomfortable situation. Luckily we realized what had happened and were all good humored about it and laughed it off. I chatted with them a bit. They were a nice Australian couple.

Anywho the rest of the Notre Dame line moved along without incident and I got in and saw the magnificent church:

After Notre Dame I met up with Alex for a dinner of savory and sweet crepes washed down with apple cider. I told him about my Notre Dame experience (birdman, backrubbing, and all) and he told me some important information as well:

Alex: Kelly, there’s something I should tell you.
Me: Yes? Sound serious.
Alex: Well I read your blog and you spelled Baise wrong. You should drop the ‘a’.
Me: Really?
Alex: Yeah. Actually you meant Bise which is the cheek to cheek kiss. Baise means something different.
Me: What does it mean?
Alex: It means to sleep with someone.
Me: …
Alex: …
Me: So basically you’re telling me I told everyone who reads my blog that I slept with all your friends and it made me feel happy and accepted.
Alex: Well , yes.
Me: Awesome.

Ah language learning. I should stick with what I know. (Le cheval saute.)

After dinner we went to the Bear’s apartment for some drinks and good conversation. I met a very nice Swedish couple who just moved to Paris and talked their ear off because that’s what I do nowadays anytime I’m near an English speaker.

The next day I left Alex’s apartment and headed to the Musee d’Orsay as part of my brilliant plan because 1. I had a lot of time to kill since trains from Paris to Rouen run infrequently on Sundays 2. it was on the same metro line from Alex’s apartment to my train station and 3. many of Paris’ museums are free the first Sunday of every month (a fact I learned from Lonely Planet’s “Europe on a shoestring” – my birthday present to myself).

Unforch when I got there I realized that the either this museum is extremely popular or that many people know about the first Sunday of every month free thing. Oh and it was raining:

Still it was not a bad way to spend one's birthday surrounded by the great works of Manet, Monet, and lots, and lots of nudity.

Afterwards I headed back to Rouen. As soon as I got back my doorbell rang and it was my school mates coming by to wish me a happy birthday (apparently they had been waiting for me all day). One guy brought Indian wine so we opened it and we sat around for a while drinking and chatting.

I may have gotten a bit tipsy due to the fact that only 2 people drank (me and they guy who brought the wine) and I hadn’t had dinner yet when they came by.

Laurel and Justin, I don’t really remember what we talked about, but I do remembered that you called and I was really happy to talk to you and thanks for the birthday wishes. I feel the love (I just wish I felt it a little more sober). Pardon.