This has been a good weekend in Paris.  The weather warmed during the week, but it cooled on Saturday afternoon, and the rain on Sunday made for a pleasant day.  It can be tiring to walk around Paris in the heat, but when the weather is even a bit cooler than normal, it’s fantastic.  Today the temperature was around 65 degrees for the day.  So, we took advantage.

Mon marie arrived in Paris yesterday morning.  He was exhausted from a long day/night of travel from Dallas to Paris.  Kady and I allowed him an hour of rest and then we hit the streets.  We dragged his sorry body to the Louvre and the Centre Georges Pompidou–the Museum of Modern Art in Paris.  We made him stare at beaucoup modern art–a canvas of solid blue by Yves Klein, for instance–and beaucoup, beaucoup classic art.  This is a man who appreciates a squeeze bunt at just the right time.  Or a drive striped down the fairway about 300+ yards.  We had a little trouble engaging him in a thought provoking dialogue about the meaning of Willem de Kooning’s style of Abstract expressionism.  I think it was because he had jet lag.

Today we went to Les Puces (the Fleas), as the Parisians refer to the most famous flea market in Paris.  The official name is Les Puces de Saint-Oren.  After wandering through the acres of stalls and antiques, I’m convinced that this is the only place Dallas decorators come for their purchases.  Of course, the furniture and accessories are beautiful, so why not?  I would love to come back with someone who knows how to bargain.  I got the feeling that many of the merchants were more than willing to sell me something if I would only make an effort.

After a couple of hours at the flea market and then lunch, we took the metro to the Sainte-Chapelle.  

It is located in the Ile de la Cité in the heart of Paris.  What makes this beautiful chapel so very special is the stained glass windows.  The chapel was commissioned by King Louis IX of France in the 13th century.  The architecture is beautiful, but it takes a back seat to the breathtaking beauty of the stained glass windows.  They are beyond description.  And massive at over 49 feet.  You have to see them to appreciate the beauty and marvel at the work that went into the making of this chapel.

That’s not all of the weekend, however.  In a moment of daring–as if this whole trip wasn’t enough–I decided to have my hair colored at the salon downstairs in my apartment building. I went in last Thursday and made an appointment with the guy at the desk.  I explained what I wanted and after a little conversation in English, I walked out.

I returned on Saturday morning, gave my name to the girl at the desk and asked for Stephanie.  The conversation was in French because I needed the practice and wanted to show off at the same time..  I didn’t realize until I sat in the chair and met Stephanie that the fellow I had spoken to on Thursday was the only English-speaking person in the salon.  And he was on his day off.  Not there.  Gone.  Panic set in as I realized that I needed to describe the color and cut that I wanted.  I delved into the recesses of my porous mind and came up with “Je ne veux pas noir.”  (I do not want black.)  This is because I had glanced at the woman sitting two chairs over.  Her hair was the spitting image of Elvira.  Shoe polish black.

I worried about it the whole time I sat through the color phase.  As it turned out, Stephanie understood about the color.  What she didn’t understand was my request for my haircut.  I thought “un peu” meant “a little”.  She thought it meant, “Cut and thin it until I look like a long-haired chihuahua.”

I think I need to work on my pronunciation.

My pronunciation is causing me the most stress.  I can’t make myself understood even when I know I’m saying the right word.  I realized tonight at dinner that it’s because I’m not pronouncing the words precisely as they should be.  For example, I asked the waiter for “deux minutes” more when he came to take our order.  He looked so puzzled before he walked off.  Then I realized that I had pronounced the word ‘deux’ (two) like’dieu’ (god).  So, I asked him to give us “god minutes” more.  He must have attributed it to the fact that it’s Sunday.

Tomorrow is Monday and back to the grind.  I think I need to talk to the teacher about our having more dialogue in class with the emphasis on pronunciation.   But, I’m not sure she’ll understand what I want.   She may just think I need a bathroom break.

A bientôt!