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Day one: Arrived in Paris on a Saturday sometime in the morning eight or so I think t which is one in the morning back home. It took three connecting flights starting in Evansville than to Pittsburgh than to Philadelphia and than finally to Paris. My father, Candy (his girlfriend), Laura (her daughter), and I checked into the hotel, its not exactly what we thought it would be, but still a very nice place considering. Everyone took a nap but me I was afraid I would get jet lag. It was hell staying up all day with only two hours of sleep but I did. Now because the drinking age is sixteen I am legally able to drink which I did. After four drinks I was drunk, but not to the point to where I would get sick. The best part was that my Dad didn’t care, it’s not like he could do much about it anyway but still. He helped me pick out some drinks I would like, and it was just me and Laura sitting at a bar. No matter what bar you go into no one ever cards you for anything, I can buy everything I’m not allowed to in American. We meet his really nice couple from New England he was a lawyer and his wife was a radio personality. After they left, and Laura went to take a bathroom break this man from Northern Africa started talking to me. He was really nice and I was drunk so we had a nice time talking. He told me about his life there, the places he had visited, and that he was in Paris seeing his family for the New Year. He said he was only 29, but he looked older. It was hard to understand him because he spoke so soft, along with his accent. I am not sure if he understood most of what I was saying because he knew little English. When he left he shook our hands and said goodbye. I love people, who are soo mannerly, and gentlemen like, it really kills me. We got back to the hotel around midnight and crashed, it felt so good to finally lie down and sleep.
Day two: I surprisingly did not have a headache or anything from drinking last night. Candy, Laura and I walked around one to two districts just looking around, taking pictures, and just getting a sense of where things are. Dad didn’t come with us because he pulled something in his back and was in too much pain to walk. We must have walked over three miles or so but when you have so much to do and so much to see you just keep saying let do more. We had a hard time finding a place to get something to eat, after six after noon on Sunday. Later that night Dad still didn’t feel his greatest but he went out with us for dinner anyway. On the way there were these groups of guys singing in the alley way only a few steps behind us. I could tell they were French when they caught up with us, and started talking to me. One of them in particular started talking to me, I didn’t understand him too well because it was all French and he spoke too fast. I was walking beside my dad, who worked as our translator. The boys kept asking him if I could join them and go to a disco/club. I just stood there and smiled not understanding a thing. Dad of course said no, and I wouldn’t have gone with him by myself even if he said yes. Than he asked if I could go with him if everyone else came along too and once again dad said no. His friends got bored with all this, so naturally they left urging him to go as well. I waved goodbye and blushed to myself. We were all laughing about what had just happened when guess who decided to show up. It was kind of boring because he understood/spoke English as much as I did french. He asked me how long I was staying, where, and if he could have to phone number to the room I was staying in. I played dumb and pretended I didn’t understand what he was talking about or didn’t know. The one thing he did well was hold hands, and guides me. Every time someone was about to walk into us, he gently nudged my hand to one side, and helped me walk throw the crowd. Than he did two things that really turned me off kissing my hand which he had no right to do I wanted to rip his lips off, and brushing my hair back from my eyes. That is the one thing that bothers me; I cannot stand for anyone to touch my hair unless I say it’s ok. Dad told me that he wasn’t going to eat dinner with us, and I agreed with him on that. So when it came time to go our separate ways I let go of his hand and dad informed him of what was going on. And I haven’t seen him since. Dinner was good, and at his place called Spicy. Which lead to drinks at an American bar called Cambridge, had one too many strong frozen margaritas, the only time I have ever seen them anywhere here. Meet a nice man from Huston who was staying a few more days before going to Italy for skiing. Left close to one am, I didn’t quite feel the drinks until I tried to stand us and my knees decided to give out on me, thanks to Dad I didn’t fall. Everyone in the bar started laughing at me, well with me because I couldn’t stop laughing myself. We got lost trying to find our way, so we took a cab back to the hotel. I couldn’t fall asleep until three.
Day three: Woke up with slight headache and really dizzy. Somehow I survived four hours of non-stop walking in the Lourve. I kept getting separated from my group because I just go off in my own little world, and never pay attention to where they are. I of course saw the Mona Lisa, along with many other priceless painting and artifacts from the Egyptian time period. I kept trying to take pictures of everything, and see everything until I realized there is too much, one person can’t do it all with such short of time. So I allowed myself to only take pictures of certain things. I wish we had enough time to see it all but we don’t. This trip is way too short, I need more time. After this we came back to the hotel to get ready for the Moulin Rouge show. As soon as we stepped off the metro and saw all the sex joints and strip clubs we knew this was the…I guess one could say ‘ghetto’ part of Paris. We found a nice little place to eat and the waiter was very nice trying to cheer me up, which helped but after an incident on the metro I was pretty shaken up (no I will not mention as to what it was). It finally came time for the show, and the line was extremely long, the cold weather didn’t help either. Meet this nice little English couple from a small town close to Birmingham, they helped pass the time. After only a few hours which felt like forever we were inside and seated. For every two people you receive one bottle of champagne. Normally you could expect it to be the cheap stuff, but trust me it wasn’t; it was the best thing I had ever tasted. The show was by far the best I have ever seen. I was a little jealous of some of the girls because their breasts looked better than mine! A part of me didn’t want it to end but the other part that had four glasses of champagne and had to pee oh so badly wanted them to speed things up. I finally did make it to the bathroom with Laura’s help. On the way I told the waiter he was really cute and that we should do something later, even though he probably didn’t understand what I was saying I think he knew what I meant. Took a cab back to the hotel, did some shots and called it a night.
Day four: I almost didn’t make it out of bed this morning due to my legs giving out on me. It must have had something to do with the two shots of vodka with Laura in the hotel. Damn that stuff is strong, and it burns my throat. Later when I went to look at the pictures from last night, and I couldn’t find them, the fucking computer deleted them. So we have to go back to everything and take pictures again, which pisses me off. It also deleted what I am re-typing, now that really makes me mad. We finally made it to the Eiffel tower. I wanted to walk all 1,680 steps, but no one else was up to it, and I wasn’t about to go alone. The line was extremely long and took us almost an hour to get through. The one thing that I didn’t realize until now that no everyone is in Paris speaks French I must of seen hundreds of people from all over the world, Norway, Luxemburg, England, Scotland, Netherlands, and so on. Anyway it took three elevator rides to finally reach the top. It was amazing, however terribly cold. I could see everything. As we were walking away from the tower, we got to see them testing some of the fireworks for tomorrow. We came back to the hotel afterwards. Dad and Candy left at six for a dinner cruise on the river, while Laura and I walked around on @@@insert street name@@ trying to find a place to eat or a possible disco for later. We where trying to find our way when I accidentally stepped in some dog shit. That was really gross, but it was cold enough outside so you couldn’t smell it. Another thing I love about Paris is that you can walk into any restaurant or bar and they will let you use the bathroom without being a customer. I tried to look around for a semi-trashy bar but all I saw were good ones so I settled. I got most of it off, and poured soap all over the bottom hoping to cover the smell. We kept getting turned around, and everything was basically closed. We walked back to the hotel to ask the bell hop if he knew of any good places to eat that were open but he was no help. Laura and I gave up on the disco idea and were really getting hungry, while walking out the door I saw this English couple and thought I would ask them if they knew about any open bars. It was there first night in Paris but the man told us that he saw a bar just up the street on the corner. Laura saw a French Italian restaurant, and we stopped for dinner. Than proceeded to the bar on the corner. I ordered a orange fizz, so did Laura. The bartender wasn’t bad looking and pretty nice. I told him that I knew a little French when he was trying to talk to us. He asked us where we were from; after we answered he went to the back for a cigarette break. I told Laura that he must not like something or us because he ran off so quickly. Later when the chef came out and starts talking to us (in English) about us being American I figured the bartender must have told him. I don’t remember his name but he told us about how much he loved America and loathed Paris. His English was really good, but after spending almost a year in America yours would be too. The bar was starting to close at only 11:00. I was disappointed that I only had time for two drinks, and had nowhere to go for more. The chef was helpful and told us about some places we could go for New Years Eve. He asked for our names, and how old we were. I lied and said seventeen Laura tried not to laugh. The bartender must have been very curious as to what we were talking about because he kept asking his friend what we were saying. We talked, laughed and had a good time. Soon the bar closed and Laura paid, well for her drinks at least, I thought she was paying for mine too because I was picking up the tab for New Years. But she wasn’t and I walked out without paying but the bartender didn’t say anything about it so I guess it was ok. We came back to the hotel and had shots of vodka mixed with tonic water and called it a night.
Day five: New Years Eve is something I never want to go through again, and no, I will not talk to any of you about it nor do I want to.
Day six: New Years day. It is now 11:11 and I am just getting up. I think its snowing…wait yeah it is snowing. It snowed off and no for the most of the day. We arrived at Nrotha Dome at four because we had such a late start due to going to bed so late the following night. We walked around and took pictures. I wasn’t really too impressed by it, mostly because I don’t care for churches. Dad said I could light a candle and say a prayer for someone until he saw that it cost two euro. After this we stopped at a bar for a drink before heading out to the hotel. We didn’t do much today because everything is closed, or is already closed. Tomorrow is the museum of modern art, and orsey. I can’t believe that I only have three more days. I don’t want to go back home, there is nothing there except family and one or two friends. If I could I would stay here and just visit America every so often, but I know it’s not going to happen. My dad understands there is so much at home that he cannot leave. Both my brother and my mother could never understand how could they when they have wanted to live in Nebo their whole life. What’s in Nebo, but farms, and farmers? Nothing, that’s what. America can never compare to Europe in anyway. America is too corporate, and sold out for my taste. But here everything is….wow I don’t even know where to start. Mom called earlier she asked how everything was and how my new years went. I told her we had a nice dinner and watched some fireworks also that most of the trip we went sightseeing, you know things like that even though I was leaving out big sections of the whole thing. Mom nor the rest of my family will ever know half of what happened or what I did, and I want to keep it that way. Dinner was uneventful for the most part. I am a little upset that no bars were open because I had a good buzz going and all I wanted was a few more. Tomorrow is orsay and the tomb of Napoleon.
Day seven: We were supposed to have a wake up call but everyone that works at the front desk is soo fucking stupid. So we walked out around ten instead of nine which isn’t so bad. To get inside the museum we had to wait outside for two hours in freezing weather. I couldn’t believe how long we had to wait; it wouldn’t have been so bad if I had worn my heavier coat. We stayed inside for over two hours, and still didn’t see it all, I cant stand it when I don’t have enough time to see everything. Barely made it back in time to see the tomb of Napoleon, but we made it. It’s amazing to think that such a small mad is inside a huge casket, or at least that’s what I kept hearing people say. A man like Napoleon who did and changed so much will always be remembered. I was really frustrated that I couldn’t get a clear shot of the place because everyone was taking a picture at the same time, and all you get is little dots. Walked back to the metro and went back to the hotel because everything closes at six (sight-seeing wise), so their really wasn’t much else to do. Laura and I walked up the street from the hotel, to that bar we went to the a few days ago. The bartender wasn’t as friendly this time because his boss was there breathing down his neck also he had a cold which didn’t help things. His boss kept staring at us, maybe it was the fact that we were the only people in the place, but still. Soon after the chef walked out to get something, saw us and started talking to us. We talked about America, you know this and that. The waiter soon joined in due to lack of better things to do, he asked us about school in the states. They were amazed at how long we go to school, both of them stopped at high school. The bar closed at ten because it was a Friday. The two drinks I had would’ve free if the bartender’s boss wasn’t there. The chef translated to us that we should think of the other drinks as presents, which was really nice of him to do. Walked back a little disappointed to be sober, than went to sleep finally around one or two, I don’t remember.
Day eight: Woke up at six-thirty, after going to sleep at two in the morning. Took the RER to Chatloe Versallie. Thanks to the people around us being so nice and helping we finally found the train we needed. It takes somewhere around forty-five minutes to close to an hour to get there. There wasn’t much to see during the train ride it was mostly slums, or little village houses. It took everything I had to stay awake. When we got there we stopped at a McDonalds since nothing else was open at the time, wasn’t impressed by it naturally, I was more disgusted with it than anything. After everyone was done eating we walked down the street and waited in yet another line to get inside. It wasn’t so bad though only around an hour. I was surprised by the number of people who tried to cut, a couple of times I had to put my arm in their way and just say no, otherwise we would have never gotten in. We didn’t see the whole house, because of time as always. Walked through the king’s chambers, a couple of his sons/daughters chambers as well, among other things. Took the RER back, than the metro to the museum of modern art, the one place I really wanted to go to. The only thing was that it was closed for some reason, and wouldn’t be open until next summer, although there was a small exhibit of a Japanese artist who I liked. I was the only one who enjoyed it; they kept saying ‘it sure is different’. But that what I love about it, the shows you so many ways to see something through another way, I will have to admit there is a line between art, and just pretentious. They had a small shop with loads and loads of artsy book but they were all (most) in French, and the all the shirts were a little out of my price range (as in 40-120 euro). They had a really cool shirt that had been altered, and looked like they put tape, than just placed it in the dyer to set the tape to the cloth, which I will think about trying myself. Bought two pins, than left. Metro back to the hotel, dinner later, and so forth. We tried to go to this one restaurant that was once used to get French men to sign into the military. Ok let me explain, this was when no one wanted to join, so they incited the men into this restaurant for a free meal, and as much to drink as they wanted. After the men were good and drunk they signed themselves into the military without even knowing it. However it was booked so we walked down the Chames&&&&& and Candy looked around for a place to eat. Can she not travel outside the district?! There are over ten, why do we always have to stay in eight. I hate that street with a passion, its too tourist-like for me. Why would anyone want to spend all their time on a shopping street, you could do that anywhere in the world, how is the gap store French?! It just makes me frustrated that Candy cant be bothered to do any she doesn’t want to do. Dad and I found this nice little place on a side street, during the whole meal you could tell Candy was upset about the place, but I just thought fuck that I am not putting her feelings before mine. Dad and I spend the night talking about the trip, when he used to live in Europe and so on while Candy basically got drunk in the bathroom. After one am we both deiced it was time to go to sleep if we ever wanted to get up in the morning for our last day.
Day nine: Woke up way to early for my taste so we could make to the Catacombs on time. We had to walk down this really long hallway just to get to where all the bones and skulls were. It was really creepy to see the remains of over a million people. Dad kept sneaking up behind me and scaring the shit out of me, but it was all in good fun. Had dinner in %%%%. Than Dad, and I spent the rest of the day together while Laura and Candy did… whatever it was they did together. I was happy to finally have sometime alone with him; everyone else was wearing on my last nerve in one way or another. Both of us walked around looking for H&M only to find out that it was closed along with everything else on a Sunday. So instead we went to see Jim Morrison’s grave. At first we went to the wrong cemetery, which was really funny at time. How did I know there would be more than one famous cemetery in Paris? Once we were there we meet some Canadians who were also looking for his grave sight, so we just followed them. To be able to say I’ve been to Jim Morrison’s gave is just amazing to me. I picked up a hand full of dirt to take back to my friend Joyce. I didn’t think to bring a bag with me that day, so I wrapped it in some paper I had in the pocket. I can’t wait to give it to her she will be so thrilled. I wanted to buy some bottles of gin before I left, but absolutely everything was closed damn it. Headed back to the hotel where Candy and Laura were already there. It turns out that they didn’t do a whole hell of a lot; I didn’t figure they would anyway. Our last meal was spent on Chames a lee zay which I hated because we spend way to much of our fucking time on the goddamn street, and what was worse is the place we ate at was this over crowded pizza joint, wow last day in Paris and this is our last meal here. I wanted to choke Candy with my bare hands. All was not lost though; we found a bar along a side street after I told Candy that she was a dumb ass for thinking we could find a bar along that street (minus the curse words of course). The bar was too American for my taste but Laura loved it. It was the only bar we had found that wasn’t over priced and put a fairly good amount of alcohol in the drinks. I had a very very good buzz going when Laura went to use the bathroom. These two old guys started talking to me, and asked me how long I was staying, when I was leaving, and where I was staying. I answered, ‘I’ve been here a week and a half, leaving tomorrow unfortunately, and I don’t remember the name of the place’. They both said I could live with them if I wanted, and that I was really very pretty, I said no that’s ok and looked around for Laura. The major reason why I said no was because I kept thinking about two old French guys trying to rape me. As soon as Laura came out I went in, just anything to get away from them. When I came out Laura informed me that they talked to her also, she told them that we were together as in lovers, it took me forever to stop laughing about that. The one sitting beside me kept staring at me, and it made me really uncomfortable. Than this guy came over and wanted to talk to Laura and I we both said no, and he walked away. Only to come back ten minutes later kind of drunk yelling at us, saying things like ‘why wont you fucking talk me, all I want to do is talk, you know what go fuck yourselves’ and on and on. The bartender who was this really big muscle black guy heard what was going on, and kicked them out. I now have a new love for bartenders. Thanks to dad helping me walk we made it back fairly fast. I kept feeling like I had something stuck in my throat, and was just going to throw up everywhere but I go it under control. The whole ‘put your feet on the floor when it’s spinning’ thing does not help me, no matter what I did everything kept spinning, and spinning and spinning. I gave up and went to sleep.
Day ten: Tossed and turned all night, I just couldn’t sleep. Gave in, and started getting ready sometime around five. For the life of me I did not want to leave Europe, but I had to. Dad lost of bus tickets to the airport so had to spend the money for a taxi. Walked in to be welcomed by two men apparently in the army from the way they were dressed, and the small machine guns that hung from their shoulders. I felt so bad, and could not function quickly. Good thing I didn’t drink a lot last night otherwise I would’ve been throwing up through most of the plane trip, how charming would that be. Eight hour flight when it only took six to get over there but we were going against the wind. Arrived in Philly around two their time, and seven Paris time. Customs wasn’t to awfully bad.
I was taking pictures when a man with a shaved head who worked for the airport came up to me and told me that I wasn’t really allowed to take pictures, and this and that. At first I just stared at him, thinking wait how do I respond in French or English. So the transition was a little odd coming back. Flight delayed for two hours, so now I pretty much know my way around their airport. Finally got to our last airport, only to find out they lost all of our bags. So after over 24 hours of no sleep and spending all that time on a plane i finally broke down and cried. I was so afraid they had lost our bags forever, and I really didnt want to got to school the next day wearing the same thing. Arrived home around one in the morning, needless to say after everything I didnt go to school tomorrow. I was tried, and emotional maxed to the limit so having everyone hug on me, and wanting me to tell them every detail of the trip sent me over the edge. I yelled at them t to get out of my room and let me sleep, of course my mom got defensive I only ended up making things worse. I really didn't want to go back home to my mom. It was odd crying because you were homesick for a place you've only spent alittle over a week in.