One Month Down, One to Go

This past weekend was a little crazy, hence why I couldn’t force myself to do any blogging, I was just far too tired.  On Friday, we went to a fun little Scottish bar called Wos, where everyone spoke English and was actually friendly.  We met a fun British kid named Tom and adopted him for the rest of the night.  I particularly enjoyed swapping stories of weird things we do in our respective countries and the different expressions we have that make no sense to each other.  I love cultural stuff like that.  We were having so much fun that we couldn’t tear ourselves away to make it on the Metro before it closed, so we decided to stay out until it opened back up around 5:30 AM.  This seemed like a good idea until 3 AM rolled around and all I wanted to do was turn the bar into my own personal bed for a few hours.  We lost Chloe to the back of her eyelids for a couple hours but we figured that if she was dedicated enough to her sleep that she could do so sitting up with her mouth open in the middle of a noisy bar, then she deserved to be left in peace.  The rest of us struggled through by listening to Tom and Neil swap stories of the ridiculous drunk hazing activities that went on at their various rugby team parties.  I’ve come to the conclusion that boys are weird in every country, such a shame.  After a while, we decided to walk to Notre Dame and watch the sun rise.  When the Metro finally opened, I went back to my apartment and tried to sneak in without waking up my host mom, even though she was probably already woken up by the aggressive sunshine that was blazing through the windows.  As exhausted as I was, it was so hard to fall asleep with the sun on so bright.  Fortunately, I was eventually able to sleep until 2 in the afternoon and then meet everyone out for dinner at our new favorite 50s diner for my second time that week.  There’s nothing like a cheeseburger to make you forget that you stayed up all night and feel like you’ve been hit by a bus.  

This week has been a prime example of how bipolar Parisian weather is.  Monday was a miserable monsoon all day long with the largest raindrops I have ever experienced, and then Tuesday was sunny, ridiculously hot, and drier than Africa.  Of course those were the two days that I had to go into the office for work, and now the past two days that I have been working from home have been a nice 68 degrees with only occasional bursts of rain…go figure.  Anyway, according to my friends, I have no right to complain about anything because I’m in Paris and anything that goes wrong here is far less horrible than if it were to happen anywhere else.  Surprisingly, I have found that this is actually a fairly true assessment of things.

At work, I have been given the lovely task of determining what needs to be done to the company website to update it and make it more attractive.  Right now it looks more like a powerpoint presentation than an actual website, so I’ve been comparing it to other sites and trying to figure out what can be done to improve it.  We have a meeting with the website designer next week, so I get to pitch my ideas and help develop a plan.  Apparently we will also be getting our pictures taken for a bio section on the website, so I’m about to be famous ;)