DAY ONE

HELLO!

I am in Paris in a beeeeeautiful hotel room (with very thin walls, Random Couple Next Door) which has a terrace overlooking this amazing walking mall, and which is across the street from the University of Paris! I'd show you pictures, but the wifi here is not cooperating.

So THINGS I DID TODAY:
1. Remembered why I hate flying. It wasn't that bad, really- I watched Sherlock Holmes. Twice. But I couldn't sleep and after awhile I was pretty sure nothing would EVER BE FUN AGAIN.

2. Managed to get into Paris without going through customs! I was really paranoid about it at first- I just walked off the plane and out into the street, and I kept waiting for a customs officer to be like ILLEGAL IMMIGRANT! ...but they did not. About half way through the (hour and a half) taxi ride to the hotel, I realized what I (think) happened- we went through customs when we landed in Iceland, and I think you only have to do it once for the whole EU. Either that, or Charles De Gaul could SERIOUSLY use a security update.

3. SPEAKING of things that could use a security update- remember when I said that my hotel is across the street from the University of Paris? Well, when my driver dropped me off, I misunderstood where he told me to go. (In my defense, I don't speak French, he didn't speak English AND he had some kind of crazy Asian accent. It was a VERY SILENT taxi ride.) Anyway, the point is, I thought he pointed toward the University, and so I grabbed my stuff hopped out of the taxi and walked through the gate into the University.
'... So?' You say.
Well, here's what you need to know about the University of Paris- NO ONE gets in, not without showing the guards a student ID or having VERY EXTENSIVE paperwork. I don't know WHY, the parts I saw before I realized I was not in a hotel were kind of like any University, but there's the facts. Only somehow, I just walked RIGHT past THREE GIANT GUARDS (I know this because I saw them as I sheepishly walked back out) and NO ONE QUESTIONED ME. Apparently, I look like I belong.

4. All you people who told me 'Oh don't worry, you won't need French, all Parisians speak English.' Well I say to you: LIARS. Maybe I have just been EXTREMELY unlucky, but you know how many Parisians I've met who spoke English? Two. One, luckily, was the receptionist at my hotel. The OTHER leads me to number

5. I met a random French guy! It was raining, and he shielded me with his umbrella, and then decided to take me under his Tourist Guide Wing! Which was awesome in many ways- he knew a TON about the history of all these random buildings, and about the most beautiful ways to see things, AND warned me about Gypsies (which I know he was serious about, but which made me giggle inside. GYPSIES.) but was slightly LESS awesome because as it turns out Paris? REALLY BIG. MY FEET HURT.

Annnnnd that's it for me- I am exhausted, and must sleep. But when I can get my pictures to upload, I will share my adventures with non-english-speaking waiters, a gay bar called 'The Bear Den', and also Notre Dame!