Thursday
Yesterday Maria arrived with her mom around three, and we all sort of got acquainted and they looked at the apartment. When they went to get Maria's stuff from their hotel, Alex and I took our backpacks to Auchan for the first real grocery buying trip. You may find it hard to believe (I certainly do) that after all the times we've been to Auchan, we didn't really buy much food to keep around the house.
We got kind of a lot of stuff, including things to make a couple of real meals, which is good. There was something that Alex wanted brown sugar for, and that's when we ran into our biggest grocery store problem -- the sugar aisle. I didn't see anything that literally translated to "brown sugar" - but there was some sugar that was brown. It was labeled pure cane, though, so I'm not sure that's the same thing. Anyone with knowledge of French sugar selections should totally jump in, here, and let me know what's up.
We had a brief conversation with one of the Auchan employees about eggs, in which we talked about raising chickens and what it means to be free range, etc. That's the most helpful kind of conversation, I think, when you get to sort of trade vocabulary that neither of you knew in the other's language.
We managed to get nearly everything in our backpacks (although next time we go to get actual groceries, I think we will bring shopping bags as well, because it's kind of gross to transport poultry in one's backpack) and met Maria again, and we sort of sorted out our bedroom situation. I was thinking Maria and I would just share and Alex would have the other, but Alex was sort of insistent that each of us have our own space, and also that Maria and I take the bedrooms. Probably he wanted to avoid some expected drama that results from putting unfamiliar women in a small space together. I can't blame him, even though I'm hoping this year will be largely drama-free on all fronts.
So in the end we used some of the bookcases that we have in excess (we have at least five book cases, and about five books among the three of us) to set aside a space in the living room for Alex, and then we hung the sheets so that he basically has a semi-permanent fort in our apartment.
To do that we went to Auchan again. We tried to look for the stuff we needed at Monoprix but were unsuccessful, so we wound up at my new favorite place. All these trips to Auchan remind me of a family vacation one year in Alabama (or maybe Florida?). I don't remember much about it except that everything we did required a trip to Wal-mart. We may have rented a condo that wasn't well furnished or stocked. That might have been it.
We hung out at the apartment for a while and then we went out to celebrate Maria's birthday, which was Wednesday and which she spent on the airplane. With all the time-zone hopping that happened, her birthday lasted only 17 hours instead of the 24. An interesting thought.
Anyway, we met a bunch of guys our age at the table next to us at a pub on Place de la Victoire, and between our varying levels of French and their varying levels of English we pieced together a conversation. I think they said they were from Banon -- they made it clear they were not from Bordeaux but it was hard to hear what was going on with music, and so many different people talking.
We went with that group to the "sports bar" next door which turned out to be a dance club with a Girondins poster. It didn't look like anything I'd call a sports bar. I don't think I saw any televisions in it. Maybe we'll go back Saturday for the World Cup qualifying games and see if there are any sports then.
Anyway, we danced for a while before we went home. It appears that everything shuts down at about 2 a.m. One thing that's still strange to me is how high the ratio of American to French music is. I think I heard maybe two French songs last night. And they played "Pretty Fly for a White Guy", which I haven't heard on the radio anywhere in years. And "We Will Rock You". Very strange.
We got kind of a lot of stuff, including things to make a couple of real meals, which is good. There was something that Alex wanted brown sugar for, and that's when we ran into our biggest grocery store problem -- the sugar aisle. I didn't see anything that literally translated to "brown sugar" - but there was some sugar that was brown. It was labeled pure cane, though, so I'm not sure that's the same thing. Anyone with knowledge of French sugar selections should totally jump in, here, and let me know what's up.
We had a brief conversation with one of the Auchan employees about eggs, in which we talked about raising chickens and what it means to be free range, etc. That's the most helpful kind of conversation, I think, when you get to sort of trade vocabulary that neither of you knew in the other's language.
We managed to get nearly everything in our backpacks (although next time we go to get actual groceries, I think we will bring shopping bags as well, because it's kind of gross to transport poultry in one's backpack) and met Maria again, and we sort of sorted out our bedroom situation. I was thinking Maria and I would just share and Alex would have the other, but Alex was sort of insistent that each of us have our own space, and also that Maria and I take the bedrooms. Probably he wanted to avoid some expected drama that results from putting unfamiliar women in a small space together. I can't blame him, even though I'm hoping this year will be largely drama-free on all fronts.
So in the end we used some of the bookcases that we have in excess (we have at least five book cases, and about five books among the three of us) to set aside a space in the living room for Alex, and then we hung the sheets so that he basically has a semi-permanent fort in our apartment.
To do that we went to Auchan again. We tried to look for the stuff we needed at Monoprix but were unsuccessful, so we wound up at my new favorite place. All these trips to Auchan remind me of a family vacation one year in Alabama (or maybe Florida?). I don't remember much about it except that everything we did required a trip to Wal-mart. We may have rented a condo that wasn't well furnished or stocked. That might have been it.
We hung out at the apartment for a while and then we went out to celebrate Maria's birthday, which was Wednesday and which she spent on the airplane. With all the time-zone hopping that happened, her birthday lasted only 17 hours instead of the 24. An interesting thought.
Anyway, we met a bunch of guys our age at the table next to us at a pub on Place de la Victoire, and between our varying levels of French and their varying levels of English we pieced together a conversation. I think they said they were from Banon -- they made it clear they were not from Bordeaux but it was hard to hear what was going on with music, and so many different people talking.
We went with that group to the "sports bar" next door which turned out to be a dance club with a Girondins poster. It didn't look like anything I'd call a sports bar. I don't think I saw any televisions in it. Maybe we'll go back Saturday for the World Cup qualifying games and see if there are any sports then.
Anyway, we danced for a while before we went home. It appears that everything shuts down at about 2 a.m. One thing that's still strange to me is how high the ratio of American to French music is. I think I heard maybe two French songs last night. And they played "Pretty Fly for a White Guy", which I haven't heard on the radio anywhere in years. And "We Will Rock You". Very strange.
Nothing good happens after 2 am.
ReplyDeleteAlso, my box of brown sugar says pure cane sugar on it in addition to the words 'brown sugar', if that helps any.
Men love those songs. France is a very masculine country.
ReplyDeleteOkay. So, we rented the condo it Gulf Shores, AL in August 1998 (one week before my hysterectomy. That is added because it might explain my inability to deal with stress). We had been going to that resort for seven years (and have not returned yet). The condo was barren. We had always had everything we needed at the resort, so we did not take any beach chairs, beach towels, wine glasses (or any eating utensils, cork screw, etc.). We did not have any glassware, no cooking utensils, no towels, etc. We kept driving to WalMart. Every day we would get up and make a list.
ReplyDeleteYou would roll your eyes and say "I suppose we have to go to WalMart..." It became an inside joke. We started buying things we did NOT need, just to perpetuate the joke. For instance, we bought a soccer ball, just because we could.
Love the room divider idea. Besides, Alex is probably right. Everyone DOES need personal space at some point. Love, MOM