Vermès is also much closer to my place than Reid Hall (Vermès is right by Opéra Bastille while Reid hall is on blvd. du montparnasse), and since class is on Thursday mornings with flexible lab times (I get to choose whenever I want to go in), it may turn out to be the superior studio to Spéos, the other photo atelier that we're visiting tomorrow.
M. Vermès was an interesting character himself. He took pictures of all of our ears with his super-mega-awesome-high-powered digital camera and his clothing made him look like someone who just walked out of Venice beach. Come to think of it, the whole studio looks like it could comfortably fit on the boardwalk.
On my way home, I picked up some "groceries" (just some pasta sause with meat to add to my spaghetti, some tiramisu gelato for one of these nights, and a soft drink) and made myself a delicious meal. As I sat by the window, I finished my French homework for the evening and decided to walk down to Reid Hall to print it out.The walk down St. Michel is amazing, and the detour I took through les jardins de luxembourg was incredible. What a place for a picnic! The place itself is gorgeous and the people watching can't be beat. They even have lounge-style chairs -- it's like they know I want to get comfortable. I've decided that I will come back down here with a baguette and fixings one of these days, maybe I can convice Sam and her French friends to go with me.
In the middle of my super leisurely dinner at the Resto U (pasta, steak, green beans, salad, bread, raspberry tart), a man who appeared to be in his late 30s came and sat across from me. I think he could tell I was American because I was reading some information in a guidebook when he sat down. He was really cordial and explained a lot of things about Paris that he thought were amusing. It wasn't until 1/2 way through the conversation that I realized he didn't have any fingers on his left hand. I was absolutely impressed that he was cutting his steak, eating his apple, and explaining things with his fingerless hand so naturally that I had not even noticed there was anything different about it. More shocking was that when went our separate ways, I had learned nothing about the man's life, what he does for a living, how he lost his fingers, or even his name, but I felt I still had had a great conversation. I think that's the amazing thing about parisians -- they don't talk about themselves that much but still manage to be interesting in a world that is built on "profile pages."
I walked home, enjoying the hot parisian air (I have no idea why it is still this hot here -- I can't even wear pants at noon without breaking a sweat) and found that I didn't even want to dip into that gelato yet. A walk home in Paris was enough of a dessert.
Total Damages:
Pain au chocolat for breakfast from the boulangerie by my school: 1 EUR
"groceries": 3,45 EUR
dinner at CROUS: 3,45 EUR
Wonderful!
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