Time for my annual embarrassing public breakdown!

I don't know how many people can say they've had an emotional breakdown in the Louvre, but after this week, I can.  Actually I can't imagine WHY anyone would have a breakdown in the Louvre, unless they were super moved by a piece of art there, but I've been to the Louvre a few times now and have never been emotionally moved to breakdown by any pieces there - and BELIEVE ME, I would be the FIRST person you know to totally break down because some painting from three hundred years ago touched me.  Remember when I talked about the Louvre?  Big museum with the glass pyramid in front, home of the Mona Lisa and eleventy billion other works.

My drawing class met there on Thursday, and we were in a section of the museum filled with 18th century sculptures (of people), with a glass ceiling so it's flooded with natural light.  We've been working on the human figure and faces specifically for the past week or so, and we were told to choose a sculpture and draw the head.  Before I get any further, I would like to go ahead and mention, to get it out of the way, that there is basically NO REASON for me to have an emotional episode at the end of this story.  So just know that.  This is going to be anti-climactic.  Carrying on: I chose a statue of some woman, and I started to draw.  Of course mine looks terrible, because this is the third week I've ever drawn anything with the intention of it looking good and gaining the approval of others at any point in my entire life.  So it looking terrible doesn't really surprise me at all, or really even bother me that much.  Ivo comes around, gives me some pointers and direction, then moves on.  I continue drawing, if by drawing we mean making squiggle lines for hair and shading haphazardly because I have no comprehension whatsoever of light and shadow.  Fast forward twenty minutes, Ivo comes around again and asks to see my drawing.  I say no.  He asks why.  I shrug.  He asks what's wrong.  I take a deep breath.  He asks what's wrong again (hopefully you're thinking of this in an Italian accent).  Annnnd that's when I start to cry.  A lot.

See?  There's my emotional breakdown in public for the semester; glad to get it out of the way, ya know?  I consider myself lucky that I had it in the Louvre, I mean really how many people have had to ask security for tissues in broken French with snot and makeup running down their face in like the most famous museum on earth?  Epic.  Anyways, Ivo was really flustered and I told him I needed two minutes and I went to the bathroom and got my shit together (sort of).  Ivo explained that I was stuck between a sketch and a real representation - a drawing.  I agreed.  He told me to go sketch whatever the hell I wanted "for pleasurrre - thas importante, yes? Ze PLEASURRRE," for the remainder of the class period.  I went to the other side of the gallery (or whatever a specific room in a huge museum is called) and ate a peach.  The end. (Yes, Mom, I'm taking my medicine.)

ANYWAYS.  Other than that, the week's been going great, if kind of tiring.  Meals at home have been absolutely top-notch, it makes me think of being a little kid when my family would sit down to an awesomely satisfying hot meal every night together.  Tonight JC made (Anne is out of town till this weekend) codfish and rice, lots of great spices and flavors.  And we had goat cheese after! OMGGOATCHEESE.  I literally have to stop myself from eating all of it, because I don't want people to think I'm a maniac (lies).  And we had canteloupe (I don't care to check how to spell that correctly if that's wrong) for dessert.  JC had his melon with liqueur...I just drank my apple juice.  They think I'm basically a six year old.  

OMG hilarious video to share with you!  We (Alexia, Chelsea and I DUHH) were on the metro last night on the way to meet the group at the Eiffel Tower, where we were gathering to celebrate a fellow student's birthday with a couple bottles of wine.  There were some very fun violinists playing for the metro crowd, and I was trying to get some vid of it - until Alexia and Chelsea directed my attention to two sleeping Asian girls!  Listen to me crack up:

They're sleeping!  With their heads just bowed down like that, rocking along with the ride.  How do they know when to wake up and get off the metro?  It is a wonderful mystery that I couldn't stop laughing about.

So we got to the Eiffel Tower just in time to see the hourly light show.  In this video, we joke about being on the "left" of the Eiffel because when we called to meet up with the group they told us they were sitting on the "left side"...too bad the Eiffel Tower has four sides.  Where is left?

We took a few pictures while we were there too but all of them are absolutely terrible.  I spent about 40 minutes doing my makeup that evening only for my face to be utterly DRENCHED in sweat after going down the apartment building's stairs, walking down the cobblestone street, and going down into the metro IN HEELS.  My hair was a hot mess too.

Oh, hey, this is "Blue Lips" performed by Regina Spektor, my soul sister and alter-ego should I have been born an artistic person with any sort of creative talent:

Isn't she wonderful?  She's a Russian-born Jew who grew up in Brooklyn; her music is not only unique and innovative, she also make allusions to so many great references: the Bible, classic literature, current events, etc.  She sings in Russian and French sometimes too.  Because she's a badass.

Okay and now I'm leaving you with literally the best video ever taken of anything ever.  I cannot stop watching it, it is hilarious, I watch it over and over and laugh every. single. time.  I give you, "Sneezing Panda":

IT'S SO FUNNY.  The mama is so spooked!  She's like, WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU AND HOW DID YOU GET HERE??!  Look at her face!  Look how her whole body jumps! BAHAHAHAHA.

Okay I hope you guys actually liked that, even if not quite as much as I did.  Tell me what you thought!  That's what comments are for!

Peace, love and Paris

Rhiannon