what i learn when i'm not studying.

In comparison to other days I've had in Paris, yesterday was not the best. It was sort of cold and sort of gross outside, I was supposed to be writing papers but instead I was daydreaming and avoiding work by spending an absurd amount of time on facebook and nytimes.com and skype. Faced with actually having to work this weekend, I did everything I could to avoid it. I saw a movie on Friday night, but only after spending three straight hours writing outline after outline after outline for a ridiculous paper due Monday that, as of 1pm on Sunday afternoon, is still not anywhere close to looking like a decent paper. Unable to concentrate, I took the metro and read Beckett's End Game in French, another homework assignment due Monday, and helped two young women speaking broken English and even more broken French find their way to the Louvre. It wasn't a particularly good day at all. I couldn't seem to accomplish much of anything, besides reading Beckett, and my papers just sat there staring at me saying, "What about us?"
And now that they're staring at me again, raising their eyebrows at me and tapping their feet, I'm here writing in English about something other than "Love and Monsters." Whatever that means.
Part of me knows that I'm creating my own monster by not working on my papers. Another part knows that I shouldn't stress because I always get my work done. And part of me just really wanted to share these few moments with you.
I come home yesterday from my aimless walking and find my HM, still in her pjs, at 2pm. She wants to know if I want to learn how to make a soup with her. I decide I won't get any work done anyways, and head to the kitchen with her. She shows me everything, teaches me kindly, and corrects my pronounciation of the word "rent" which is difficult for me to say. Thierry comes in and smells the soup - it's a soup of red lentils and curry and coconut milk - and smiles and says, "Ah, mignon! Qu'est-ce que tu as fait?" I'm mignon now. Toujours mignon.
At 3:30pm, after we've eaten our soup and talked for awhile and had our cafe and it's time to get to work, my HM looks at me and says, "I suppose I should get dressed. I mean, even you're out of bed and dressed..." She laughs.
I smile and say, "You know, you are very nice people but you pick on me so!"
My HF interjects and says, "You see? You have a choice here. You can be a tenant and we won't pick on you and you can pay your rent and come and go as you please. Or you can be apart of our family. That comes with the jokes, you see? We pick on you because it comes with the territory."
I laugh. "So it's a choice?"
He smiles and says gently, "Yes, but you see, I think it's much more interesting to be apart of the family."
I nod and agree.

I come home later that night late and there's a box on my desk that wasn't there when I left. It says, "Pour Katharine de la part de HF et HM." It's my HM's handwriting and I immediately know what it is.
One night at dinner my HM brought out her newest toy. It's a wooden block set of little monuments and landmarks of Paris. Together with the block set and a shoelace (to represent the Seine), as a family we pieced together a map of the city on the dining room table in the middle of dinner. It was wonderful and touching and such a great moment for me. A few weeks later, my HM asked me what gifts I'd be bringing home for my family, and for me. I said I didn't know yet, but I knew I wanted one of those block sets for myself so I could piece together Paris for my family at home, and have a piece of Paris always with me.
Last night I came home and there was a newly purchased block set on my desk, in its tiny Paris canvas bag, just waiting to be opened. It was lovely and it made the rest of the day so much better.


(I'm being challenged now by my HF and HM to cook dinner for them. They think it'll be great fun. I find it totally nerve-wracking. I live with a chef. I've opened up my blog such that anyone who reads can post comments and you don't need to be a member of blogspot or anything. Any ideas for recipes? My french family is all about balance and beauty in every meal, so ideas such as "Sloppy Joes" or "Sloppy anythings" will not be considered. Thanks for your ideas!)