an international incident

2006-07-18T11:26:00.000-04:00

this is our group at the hotel matignon, which is the home of the prime minister. Very hard to get a tour, and it was very very cool. the PM had had a meeting there, and was there at the time of our visit...

this is our awesome tour guide. he took 5 pictures with everyone's camera... too bad there were 10 cameras... say formage!

I just like this picture. I think it makes me look old.

this is just my fav piece of art. Mostly because i like to makeout.

2006-07-14T09:07:00.000-04:00

International phone calls also rock my world :-D

2006-07-11T14:21:00.000-04:00

Becca G. and Adam R. are my favorite people in the whole world.
Thank you guys so much for the care package!!!!
j'adore

a la Centre George Pompidou

2006-07-10T07:57:00.000-04:00

I’ve never been one to truly appreciate modern art. Where people see profound works of art, I tend to see a green square on a white canvas. Nonetheless, I went to the Centre George Pompidou (hereafter CGP) today, the crazy modern art museum that’s just blocks from my place. Even the outside presents a modern face that most of Paris rejects.

Because I’m an Art History Student (or so my PRC ID says..) I get into most art exhibits in France for free. It’s a pretty good deal overall, as the CGP charges 10 Euro for entrance. My student ticket didn’t get me everywhere, but I definitely had plenty to see.

While I’d generally call myself a modern art hater, I found myself enjoying several of the exhibits. The collection of Alfred Manessier pieces was fantastic and different.

There was also a collection of crazy models from a very snazzy architechture firm. The name escapes me now, if anyone cares, i'll look it up when I get home... But you had to put on little non-skid booties, and walk over the exibit as it was encased in a giant sloping glass case, with each of the models in a lighted box. It was an interesting way to see the models, but it was often difficult to really see the scale, and the detail.

There were a few very odd exhibits that I’m not quite sure what to say about. There was an entire exhibit devoted to Los Angeles art from between 1955 and 1985. It was interesting to see all of the American works, and see what defined the period. There were quite a few pieces of performance art, recorded on video, and multimedia exhibitions within the LA section. Some of the things, I just don’t know if I can accept as art though… One performance artist set up a bed in a gallery, and stayed in the bed for 22 days without talking…towards the end, he considered staying, as he was enjoying it so much. Another work was a video of a woman playing with a man’s balls, covered in black paint. It was just a closeup video on repeat… I just don’t think I’ll ever get that. Another ‘work’ showed a naked woman speaking to a camera about what she and her mother had bought on sale that day. As she would talk about the item, she’d put it on. Very strange.

There was an exibit on multimedia art, and its various forms on a lower floor which I wandered through fairly quickly. It didn’t have as much of an appeal to me, and I found myself distracted by the potential of other things on other floors. One random thing that was very interesting, cinematic art, was a slideshow of sorts set to a French lovesong of lovers in their homes, with their children, and in many of the photos, making love. It gave a feeling that you knew the families, and what their love was like, even though there were only a few photos of each pair. Sex seemed to be a popular topic for the cinematic art pieces, and I found it fairly odd how

many children were wandering through the fairly explicit exhibits. I suppose its just a more open culture.

I hadn’t realized how close the Center was to my home. I realize now that I had a very backwards view of where the city center was. In my little concept of my neighborhood, downtown, and the seine, were towards the main intersection near by. The metro, the center of my Parisian life, is to the left of my building, thus, all of civilization must also be in that direction. The walk to the CGP also gave me a better sense of scale to the city. What looks like a decent sized distance on the map is in reality, a very easily walked distance.

The building itself, and the giant courtyard in front of it are reason enough to stop by the CGP if you’re ever in town. It’s an intense looking building, and my guidebook tells me that the pipes are all color coded, with the blue being air conditioning (I heart the blue pipes) green for water pipes, yellow for electricity things. All of the elevators, and giant escalators (all of which are on the exterior of the building) are red, and the GIANT white pipes emerging from the ground, ventilate the lower floors. The view from the top is fantastic, and you can see just how far the city stretches. I walked past a beautiful restaurant on the top floor, a place I’d love to go for lunch one afternoon.

Outside, in the giant forum area, there were hundreds of people milling around, and just lying on the cobblestone area. There was a Mongolian instrumental group playing outside, and it was unlike anything I’ve ever heard. It seems only in Paris do you find a professional Mongolian instrumental group playing outside a museum, and a string quintet playing inside the metro.

There was also a guy with a marrientte Kurt Cobain signing some Nirvana song. it was... interesting...

World cup drama to come. The city was quiet, but its sad to see the team lose. More stories later. I have a paper due soon, and I don't even want to think about the other things I need to acomplish today. No Louvre for me today :(

I Miss you all,
J'adore,
Allison

Paris, Je t'aime

2006-07-08T09:14:00.000-04:00

It’s been quite a while since I’ve written anything of any interest. I’ve been busy, and feeling more than a little insane. I feel completely scatter brained at the moment, and my mind can’t settle on the task at hand because there’s a to-do list a million miles long, even in I live in a little Pari-bubble, with internet connection at school as my only connection to the real world. The campus is a beautiful place, my peaceful, and English speaking island in the middle of speed-walking, unintelligible France. There’s a cat traipsing around now, he’s the mouser, but will soon be too fat with all of the junk food that students feed him. Cats are always good companions, and easy company.

Ireland was fantastic. Probably a bit escapist really, as all 11 of us had gotten tired of not being able to communicate with the world around us. The trip had been planned by one of the younger girls, Carolyn, and I really had to do very little other than show up. I slept over the girls’ apartment the night before we left. They’ve certainly got a nicer place than I do, with wireless internet, a TV, a legitimate kitchen, and most of all, stairs that don’t make you fear for your life…

Joey had warned me before the trip that Ireland would be cold, so I packed accordingly, yet with a bit of skepticism. I hope Joey’s not planning a career in Meterology, because the weather was nearly perfect, with blue skys and perfectly moderate tempetures. Ireland, and our hotel provided me with one of the biggest treats since I’ve arrived in Europe, a good shower, and the feeling of being truly clean. No matter how hard you scrub, no matter how much soap, and shampoo you use here in Paris, you can never quite get really clean. I’ve missed that feeling quite a bit.

Most of our time in Dublin was spent exploring. I was quite surprised to see how small the city was compared to other metropolitan areas. While I can normally get lost anywhere, I had little trouble navigating Dublin, in spite of the fact that the city was not planned using a grid of streets. We visited each of the major landmarks, and had a lot of fun in the pubs.

Our first pub night was exactly what I imagined Ireland to be. The place was packed with world cup fans, as the game had just ended. We each bought a 7 euro drink or two, and set up camp in a corner area of the pub. It wasn’t long before a singer came on, and started singing familiar American songs. The whole pub was singing (when they knew the words) and a few of us seemed to know the words to every song. It was like a wonderful Irish version of Gator Rocks. Nothing could have made me happier.

The next morning we got out to see all the main tourist sites in Dublin. It’s quite a bit easier than one would think, and the size of the city lends to a walking tour of all the attractions. As we had been to the Guinness factory the other day, we went to Dublin Castle (disappointing, to say the least), St. Patrick’s Cathedral, Trinity College, the old Jail where Irish insurgents were held, and a few other random places. I met up with Joey and Lee, and we got a pint as we watched England begin its final game. It was great to see them, and to be able to chatter about how things are different across the pond. We certainly have had different experiences, but it seems our impressions are very similar.

We watched the France game that night at a random restaurant/pub in Temple bar, the main place to hang out and get drunk. There was a table full of French people near by, so we formed a cheering section. Most of the kids in the program quickly caught on to the main cheer “Allez le Blues!” The French people were a lot of fun, and they adopted us for the entirety of the game.

The trip home was sad, and everyone wrinkled their nose when we arrived in Beauvais, and were greated with a Bonjour, and a multitude of French signs and posters. Some of the people on the trip don’t speak ANY French, and I can’t imagine how difficult it must be for them to exist from day to day. I think its pretty hard to get around from day to day, and the French are rather rough with those who don’t speak French well, I wonder what it’s like to try to get around without understanding anything.

Yesterday we visited a few Chateaux. It was amazing to see these fantastic places set in the beautiful countryside of the Loire Valley. The places are spectacular, and I think I’m now in the market for a French Chateaux. I wonder what the price range is, I could live in one of those fantastic places, though only a renaissance castle, not a medieval one. When one lives in a castle, it must be a fashionable one…

The heat isn’t as bad now as it was before. The metro is still smelly, and the city still hot, but if you get a chance to cool down, its easy to maintain a reasonable temperature. It’s just a challenge trying to reach that reasonable temperature. My hunt for a fan turned up nothing in a reasonable price range, so I’ve been living with a folder that has a higher calling as my fan. Nothing makes me happier than the ice cubes that my precious ice cube trays produce. I also bought a hairdryer, which seems like a silly little luxury, but feels like a necessity. It’s amazing how much my mood changes when I feel pulled together, and clean.

The entire city of Paris is ‘en soldre’ or on sale. Unfortunately, I am fairly poor because of this, and I can’t do any more shopping for a while, if at all. I got a shiney ring, which was one of my main goals, so I’m happy as a clam for now…

I’ve been reading quite a bit, and I’m pretty happy about it. I’ve wandered into quite a few bookstores, but there are so few that carry books in English. There’s a place right around the corner that is what a bookstore should be. There are books piled in places, and every wall has huge cases of books with spines that all match. I only wish I read French well enough to pick up a book by Sartre, and read it in the café where he likely wrote it, which is less than a block from school.

The time here has changed my prospective quite a bit, but I’m not quite sure how I’ve changed. I only know that I have. I’m quieter, and I feel older, but I realize how little I know about anything. This trip has definitely proven to me that it’s a huge planet, but a very small world. Americans are everywhere, and I seem to meet people from Florida at every turn, but there’s so much of this world that is so different than Plantation, or Gainesville.

Anyway, I’ve rambled long enough. Sorry I don't have any truly profound commentary, my mind is still focused on the to-do list i've got, and the paper that's due Tuesday. We'll see how it all goes. I 'm hoping to get like 4 internship apps out on Monday, so that's another thing i'll need to take care of. Too much to do, too little time. I’ll write more often, so posts aren’t 3 pages long… I'm sure my next post will have a lot about the world cup, for those of you who are interested. I promise, I'll take plenty of pictures of the riots....

Brrr It's cold in here...

2006-06-27T14:19:00.000-04:00

I bought 2 little icecube trays.
So excited...
waiting for water to freeze.

The French hate ice.

2006-06-26T16:53:00.000-04:00

I miss Ice.

It's so strange that the thing I miss the most is frozen water. Too bad you can't ship ice.
Sodas and drinks are normally refridgerated and chilled, but rarely cold enough. I've always enjoyed ice cold diet coke but here, its not much of an option.

The other day as we were wandering though Versailles, I found a little stand where I could get a fountain soda(!!!) and I was pleased as punch to find that they served it with ice. Mind you it was 4 small cubes of ice about an inch in diameter (hardly fit for chomping on) but, it was ice!! The news spread quickly among the UF kids, and many fountain sodas were had.

I can't wait for Ireland. Hopefully I'll be able to get my ice fix, and enjoy the English speaking world. Hopefully I'll be able to meet up with Joey. It's always nice to see someone from home.

In other news:
Just as in Florida, I am a mosquito magnet. It's a bit of a pain because after the rain the mosquitoes come out like mad, and as there is no airconditioning, I can't close the windows. Any ideas? lemme know...

I got an A! You don't even know how excited I am. :-D

Ps. Visitors are always welcome. Come to Paris!

Je suis un gym sock....

2006-06-25T16:11:00.000-04:00

You probably already know this, because I think I've whined about it to everyone who exists, but France is not airconditioned. The whole country...no airconditioning.

Now, most of the time, this hasn't been too much of a problem. It's generally rather cool, and not humid at all, so the tempeture is generally agreeable.

The problem comes when it's 95 degrees out and there are no fans, no airconditioning, and hundreds of sweaty people, all of them smokers.

I've finally come to understand the concept of "smelling french." Its an absolutly discusting feeling to feel like you're sweating AS you're showering. It's gross to be on a metro with hundreds of people who live in the swealtering heat without modern antipersperants...

To say that on a warm day, the whole of France smells like a middle school locker room would be fairly accurate. Its awful, because as you walk around, in the sweltering heat, you know you're just another smelly gym sock contributing to the stink. But hey, at least this smelly gym sock showered recently...

Je n'oubliez pas

2006-06-21T18:41:00.000-04:00

I miss you Florida.
*and select parts of Florida relocated to Tucson and Philly.

In case you care...
Allison Cullin
University of Florida Paris Research Center
4 Rue de Chevreuse
75006 Paris
FRANCE

:)

C'est la vie de Paris!

2006-06-21T15:43:00.000-04:00

C'est soir, Fete de la Musique,
Next weekend, Ireland.
:-D

J'arrive

2006-06-20T16:43:00.000-04:00

I'll start at the begining, with my travel to Paris... It was 3 days ago, but it was still my first adventure.
The flight from Ft. Lauderdale to Philidelphia was wholely uneventful, yet, in spite of the peace and quiet, I was compleatly unable to sleep because of the excitement.

I got to Philidelphia and easily found my gate, but on the walk over, I found a crowd of screaming people on the OUTSIDE of a bar...
The World Cup- US v. Italy

Maybe Americans get it after all?

Who knows.
Anyway, to make a long story short, I offered to volunteer my seat, they offered a free ticket anywhere US Airways flys, I said ABSOLUTLY I'LL VOLUNTEER, and they said, oh wait we don't need you. Oh well. Maybe they'll bump me on the way back...

Hmm what else. I traipsed around Paris with 63 pounds of luggage, and a really heavy backpack, and found my apartment building. Inside, the stairs gave me more than a bit of a scare.

I've already busted my ass more than once on these stairs. You can kinda see how the wood on the edges has been worn over time. Not only does it create the grove, it also makes it really smooth. And really slippery. For most of the staircase there's no railing. This is SO not ADA comliant...
There's also no light at night. It's just a one foot in front of the other sort of prayer all the way downstairs...

Imagine lugging a giant suitcase up 5 flights of these stairs. They're windy too, and on the corner ones, there's just a tiny amount of space to put your foot on.

Unfortunatly, there's a whole lot of stairwell to bust your ass on... 5 stories of fun.

Then it was up to my room. Thankfully, my roommate Ester was there to help me with opening the door with the crazy looking keys we have, and help me get all my shit up the stairs.

My apartment is pretty cute. I have a room to myself, and the bed is pretty comfertable. As with every place in Paris, there is no air conditioning, and it was quite warm the first day. The tempeture seems pretty variable, and the room is comfertable when the nights are cool.

This is my window. Its so pretty and Parisian!

This is the Kitchen, its pretty
small but its got
everything it needs.

The view from the window is nice. At night with the windows open, I hear the city noises echoing between the buildings. Its loud, but suprisingly easy to sleep to.

Thats about the extent of my move in process. Later that day we had a brief orientation, dinner, and then went to a concert at Saint Chappelle. The singing was amazing, but the heat was extreame, and hard to bear. The voices were inspiring. It was like they were singing God.

Thats the story of the first 36 hours... more to come.

Je ne pas mort.

2006-06-20T02:40:00.000-04:00

Update coming soon. Too many stories to tell, and I need to get going to school. Expect something long tonight.

Falling for Florida

2006-05-29T23:22:00.000-04:00

I’ve always believed that you shouldn’t bother traveling great distances to see beautiful things until you can experience and enjoy the beauty that surrounds you. I’ve made it a goal to experience the United States in a real way before I spend a significant time abroad, but obviously, as my departure date approaches, this goal will go somewhat unfulfilled. I’ve seen many beautiful things here, but there is so much to see and do before I can say I know my ‘mother land.’ Yet, Paris is the opportunity of a lifetime, and I think I’ll be able to forgive myself for breaking a promise to myself. I haven’t seen everything this country has to offer, but I’ve come to appreciate the only home I’ve ever had, the state of Florida.

For 18 years I had an unexplainable disdain for my home state. Between the heat and the humidity, I was consistently unhappy with the place I called home. The leaves never changed, and snow never fell, and I counted the years that remained before I could flee north.

Television sitcoms and old little New Yorkers sing the praises of the place where I grew up. South Florida is a beautiful place, with a culture all its own, yet completely stolen from other parts of the country. The populations of New Yorkers, Jewish people, and Canadians create an odd culture that I cant imagine existing anywhere else.

It’s a beautiful place, but I’ve never quite been able to adapt to the heat. Every year around April I start to melt. I don’t have the ability to withstand the sun, I’ve never had a Florida tan.

Driving the 315 miles between my childhood home, and my chosen university showed me a different face of Florida. For the first two years it was a monotonous trip from north to south, then south to north. The streets passed as just a dotted center line that stretched on for the four and a half hours of the trip. It took me a year or so until I looked up and really saw Florida.

The Florida turnpike twists through the state, and cuts through little forests and random fields. There’s this strange point at which you’ve been driving for what seems like hours without seeing any sign of civilization, then, out of no where, there’s a huge interchange that’s just a spaghetti of highways. I wonder where all of those roads lead, and why they all meet in the middle of nowhere.

My four and a half hour drive has taken many turns of its own. I’ve been nearly run off the road, highway stalked, and stuck in traffic for hours on end. No matter the variables of the journey, I invariably end up talking or singing to myself. I spend so little time when I can do little more than think, and the drive tends to fall in the middle of a semi-dramatic time of my life. I never knew how introspective a long dotted line could make a girl.

It’s amazing how varied the landscapes are in the 300 miles between here and there. Home is a completely flat, and my home is no more than 3 feet above sea level. The first time I really noticed the hills of central florida was an amazing experience. There’s this point along the drive where you come to the crest of a hill, without really realizing you had been ascending. As you drive over the top of the hill, there’s a beautiful hilly landscape that lies ahead with a huge lake off to the left. Seeing the sun set over that lake is a spectacular experience.

One thing I’m beginning to believe… You haven’t really lived until you’ve seen the sun set in a brilliant display over the marshy waters of Florida.

26 days

2006-05-29T01:01:00.000-04:00

The people of Paris don’t know what’s coming.

I’ll be on a plane in 26 days for the adventure of a lifetime. I’m not quite sure what to expect from my 6 weeks abroad, but I imagine I won’t come back the same girl.

3 Weeks ago I looked forward to a long hot summer in Gainesville. Now, I pack for a last minute study abroad program that I never thought was possible. It's the opportunity of a lifetime, and I plan to make the most of it all.

I intend to approach this trip with an open mind and a carefree spirit. As I board the plane, I’ll be leaving all my drama behind, or at least I’ll try to. My contact with the outside world may be limited. After the AIM withdrawal passes, I think it’ll be good for me.

It will be the first time in over 3 year when I haven’t worked while going to school. I’m not sure what it will be like to be free of that added responsibility, but I think it will be an interesting experience to be both wholly dependant, and completely independent in a foreign city.

I intend to be absolutely ridiculous in Paris. I want to experience everything, no matter how cliché. I plan to spend a good deal of my time people watching at café’s while sipping red wine, and eating bread and cheese. I’ll have a copy of a snotty French newspaper folded on my tiny little table, and perhaps I’ll rent a poodle to sit at my side.

I’ll storm the Bastille on Bastille Day. I’ll take pictures at a fake guillotine, I’ll climb the stairs of the Eiffel tower, and take Napoleon like pictures at the Arc d’Triumph.

I’ll get lost in the Louvre, I’ll eat crepes from a street vendor, I’ll harass a mime. I’ll watch the end of the Tour d’France, I’ll paint a paint-by-number on the banks of the Seine wearing a silly beret. I’ll go to mass at Notre Dame, I’ll visit the beaches of Normandy.

And then I’ll come home. A wine snob? an art brat? Who knows. I look forward to the city that enchanted so many ex-pats from years ago, and wonder if they’ll ever bring me home…

For now, I pack up my old home, and pack for a 6 week adventure. I’m in no way prepared for what is to come, but somehow, that makes it even better.