My first piece of real art: Priceless

A few posts ago I made a list. Let us see how I have been doing on that front.

Things I Must See, Eat, Do, and Otherwise Experience Before My Departure

1) Berthillion ice cream on Ile St. Louis, rumored to be the best in Paris = DONE. Lena, Leetal and I went there a few days ago and bought the single-scoop (and they do mean single scoop. One tiny, perfectly rounded scoop in your delicate sugar cone) because at 2 euro 10, that was all we were willing to pay. I tried the caramel, which had pieces of crunchy toffee or similar mixed in, and it was quite good. I must be a true uncultured American at heart though because one of the things I've been craving these past few weeks has been a sprinkle-coated vanilla soft serve cone from good ole Dairy Queen. Classy.

2) the Rodin museum, rumored to have some stuff Rodin made = fail. I've trekked over there twice now, but one time the entry line was around the block and the next time the museum was closed. Don't worry though, third time will be a charm.

3) the Catacombs, stacked to the brim with dead people = epic fail. Me, Erin, Lena, Ornella, Molly, Paul, Elizabeth, and Elizabeth's assorted family members all went down to the 14th yesterday and stood in the impossibly long line for the Catacombs, only to be shat on, both literally and figuratively-- first when a pair of pigeons dropped some bombs on Elizabeth's backpack and her father's white shirt, and then when we were the literal NEXT GROUP IN LINE and the punctual guard announced that it was 4pm and no more visitors were being admitted. "Come back Tuesday!" he cheerfully suggested. We spied a nearby cafe and Paul bought us booze instead.

4) Angelina's, even though I should've sampled the famed hot chocolate when the weather was crappy = fail. Have not yet attempted.

5) the Musee Fragonard, also full of dead people = fail. Apparently not in Paris.

6) the Middle Ages museum, for nerdular enjoyment = DONE. Lena and I checked it out this Saturday, and it turned out to be full of really cool medieval stuff. We saw a bunch of church-related art, including the enormous heads from the statues of Biblical kings that were toppled at Notre Dame during the French Revolution and only recently unearthed in a ditch somewhere. But the best part may have been the series of tapestries of the Lady and the Unicorn, a part of which my mother bought in reproduction form several years ago and incorporated into a sewing project. I've seen the real thing now, Mom, and I've gotta say it's a little bit more impressive than your throw pillow in the foyer.

7) a macaroon from Laduree, even though paying five euro for it will make me cry = DONE, reference previous post and picture.

8) escargot at a restaurant with no English menu translations = almost! I've picked out a restaurant and now just need to find a time to go and some friends to accompany me. Anybody? Anybody?

9) buy a piece of street art = DONE! Well ok, it's not street art, but it is a piece of original art. There was an antiques fair in front of St. Sulpice today, and a few of the other girls and I found this booth that was selling tons of great vintage clothes and accessories. Everything was out of our price range, including one thing we each ended up buying: an original fashion plate sketch from a 1940s designer. They were way too cool to pass up though, with the original fabric swatches and little sketches and notes drawn on the sides and back. We each bought one, except for Kristen who decided to be a high roller and purchase another as a gift. I'll put a picture of mine at the end of the post.

10) buy an egg cup to remind me of my fateful soft-boiled oeuf dilemmas = fail. But it's easy to do so I'll get it done soon.

In other news, my 6-yr-old host nephew Romain was here the other night and hilaritized me by instigating a surprisingly philosophical conversation at dinner. I was zoning out a little until I heard him ask my host dad whether the Big Bang "was infinity." My host dad looked confused and tried to explain that a single occurrence cannot "be" infinite, but Romain was not taking no for an answer. Finally my host dad instructed him to "demande a Sara."

"Sara," he asked, wide-eyed, "is the Big Bang (in French, "le Beeg Bong") infinity?"

"No," I said. "It was an event."

That didn't seem to satisfy him, so he switched to a different topic.

"Who made the Beeg Bong?"

"Umm... God."

"But who made God?"

"No one made God," said my host dad. "He was always there."

"But when was he born?" Romain demanded.

This went on for about an hour, until my host dad got so frustrated with the unanswerable questions that he finally threatened Romain to "eat the rest of your salad or Sara is going to give you an English lesson after dinner!"

"NOooOOooOOOo," Romain shrieked. "L'anglais est trop difficile!"

"Nah," I comforted him. "It's not hard."

Reluctantly, Romain speared a lettuce leaf.

Before you get too excited about his genius, though, you should know that he returned to age-appropriate behavior after dinner, when my host dad and I were doing the dishes. "Cookie! Cookie!" he said in English, bouncing around the room. "That is to say what, 'cookie'?"

"Un biscuit," I said.

"That's to say what, a cookie?"

"Un biscuit."

"Un cookie! Un biscuit! Un cookie! Un biscuit!"

Cute as he was, it was a relief to all involved when he bounded off down the hall and fixed his attention on attacking Tilo with a bubble-blowing gun.

In other dinner news, my host mom just returned from a week-long vacation in New York, and has apparently applied her knowledge of our national cuisine to her dinnertime offerings. When I walked into the kitchen tonight I was simultaneously bemused and delighted to find an assortment of fish sticks and baked yukon gold potatoes on my plate. The Americana theme continued with a bottle of ketchup and another of ranch dressing, plunked proudly down to the right of my water goblet. "Regarde!" she said, brandishing the dressing in front of me. "Heeden Valley Ronch! I bought it in New York!"

"Ah yes," I congratulated. "It is very famous."

I might have been laughing in my head, but the look of ill-disguised joy on my face at the sight of those baked potatoes must've revealed my true feelings. How I miss you, my beloved staple starch. We will soon have a wonderful culinary reunion.

Here's the fashion drawing I bought!

Note how the silver sequins have been sewn into the drawing: