Hypothetical Questions, Famous Paintings, and Corporate Coffee. Oh, and Decisions. Big Decisions.

So, hypothetically, the five second rule. Does it apply to the Paris sidewalk? Additional hypothetical information: you have not personally witnessed anyone urinate on this specific section of sidewalk and it's a really, really good pain au chocolat.

Hypothetically.

So I did a funny thing this morning. I woke up early, got dressed, bought my weekly metro pass, rode the bus for about half an hour, and got all the way to the Grands Boulevards metro stop before it occurred to me that I didn't know where I was going. My second two weeks of school are at a different campus and my only directions were: "Grands Boulevards Metro Stop". No walking directions, no street address, no description of the building. I guess I assumed it would be obvious. It wasn't.

I wasn't that broken up about it, to tell you the truth. This is actually the third day in a row that my plans have been thwarted as a result of my bad luck, my ineptitude, or both, and all three times I've left the incident feeling not frustrated or annoyed but instead almost giddy with happiness. That's Paris for you, I suppose.

It's funny how every part of Paris feels like an entirely different city. The area that's currently hiding my French school looks exactly like parts of New York except with broader sidewalks and more crooked alleys. There's a Virgin Megastore and about seventy-three Starbucks and the most common variety of Homo sapien is White Man in Business Suit.

Speaking of Starbucks, I've patronized exactly two multinational coffee chains since my arrival in Europe. The first was a Gloria Jean's in Budapest and the second is the Starbucks where I am currently writing this entry by hand. I fear I may be back here as it's (presumably) on my way to school and the barista behind the counter is incredibly cute (why couldn't he ask me out on a date?). Also, I actually tasted the sweet taste of soy milk today for I think the first time on this trip. The smell of cow's milk makes me a bit nauseous after awhile, even in coffee.

Budapest marked my first ever visit to a Gloria Jean's and my only prior knowledge of one was the one in the Brandon mall where I think my friend Bri worked in high school. I didn't even know it was a chain let alone that there would be one in Budapest.

As I walked in with my Australian friend Leah that I met in Krakow, she exclaimed, "Gloria Jean's! I didn't know they were a chain! I thought they were just in Queensland!"

Anyway, this Gloria Jean's (aside from being expensive even by American standards-- oh, Budapest, you little minx!) was by far the largest and most beautiful coffee shop I have ever seen in my life. It looked like a palace. This Starbucks where I am sitting in Paris is probably the second biggest and second prettiest coffeeshop I've ever seen and it too looks like some sort of palace or maybe a fancy hotel lobby. I've seen a few McDonalds here that were similarly glamorous; it must be how these American franchises attempt to compete with European cafes.

I'll be the first to admit that I do not have a refined appreciation of art. There are things I think are cool and things I think are boring and the vast majority of 'art' falls into the latter category for me. That said, I felt compelled to go to the Louvre today. Maybe it was guilt from missing class.

It was a spontaneous decision so I didn't have my camera. There were a few times when I momentarily lamented its absence but when I imagined what poor justice any photograph I could take would serve, I decided it was for the best.

The Louvre is nothing like I expected. From the outside, it looks like a small, unimpressive building with the words "Musée du Louvre" stamped on the front. But past that misleading façade is an enormous and beautiful interior courtyard complete with fountains and the giant glass pyramid so famously described in The Book That Shall Not Be Named.

The museum itself is grand in every possible way. In fact, it's almost too grand. Every single inch of that museum is so old and beautiful and impressive, so crawling with people and camera flashes, that it's a bit deadening to the senses. You feel after awhile that you're being clobbered to death by beauty and genius. Oh, and tourists.

That's not to say that you shouldn't go. It's free for children under 18 and only nine euro for adults and I was so close to the Venus de Milo, I could have reached out and touched her (although I don't think the gentlemen wearing army fatigues and carrying automatic weapons would have appreciated that).

I saw the Mona Lisa, like the Eiffel Tower, by accident. I was in an especially crowded room and I turned to escape the crushing mob and there she was, right in front of me, view unobstructed.

The Mona Lisa is famously unimpressive in person so I won't bore you with a description of her boringness. I gave her a good look because I was supposed to and I moved on, like a zillion tourists before me and a zillion tourists after me.

Walking through the significantly less crowded outer hall of Italian paintings, I passed a hundred paintings that could have been the Mona Lisa. Why her and not them? They've probably spent the past 500 years wondering the same thing.

I wasn't overly excited by the Venus de Milo either. I mean, it's fine but there were a zillion other perfectly nice statues that looked just like it. Winged Victory, however, is so much more beautiful in person than she looks on the cover of postcards. Unlike the Mona Lisa and Venus de Milo, the crowd gave her a wide berth, never standing closer than five or six feet although there was no guard rope.

My favorite section by far was the African art (all African countries were in one section together, except for Egypt). It was the only art that moved me at all and nearly every piece was incredible.

The only piece outside the African art section (aside from Winged Victory) that really affected me was Agnolo Bronzino's "Portrait d'homme tenant une statuette". I passed it twice and I don't know if this was the original intent but every time I did, I felt a chill go down my spine.



Oh, and I decided once and for all to go to law school in August. Surprise! What's not a surprise is that I am, how you say, ze 'crazy'?