Paris - Day 0

I wrote this post a year ago. I'm still astounded by how much my writing has changed/improved(?) in the past year. Please excuse my awkward phrasing at times.

'Twas on the night of September 25, 2013, that I took a little, friendly Air France flight to Paris. Originally having a seat in the last row by the toilets, I kindly asked the unfriendly lady at the check-in to give me a seat rearrangement, and she granted my wish and gave me a nice place by the window, right by the wing of the plane.

View from my seat. For some reason, I have a terrible fear of taking pictures from a plane.

Being my usual self I was quite early, and had to linger around the duty-free shops for about an hour, looking at overpriced magazines, but soon enough it was 7:20 PM and we could start boarding. The plane was completely full, and the French football fans sitting in front of me did not help. Next to me were a Hungarian couple extremely immersed in gossip magazines.

This is not my usual photo quality, and I have no idea why I'm posting a bad picture of a waiting area.

It was already dark by the time of the takeoff, so I could see Budapest by night from above, and finally Paris by night. It was quite a bit beautiful, if you ask me. No really, it was an amazing sight. Air France also knows how to make delicious salmon sandwiches, so that's another plus.

I arrived at about 10:10 PM, and was greeted by my cousins. Unfortunately they did not have a board that said SPANYI, and that would've been cool. They did take a picture of my glorious arrival though, and send it to my dad, as I found out later. And my mom. And probably all of my extended family.

Then, we had to speed up a little, in order to catch the RER to Paris. which - as I was to find out -cause more ear popping than airplanes. After getting off the RER, we transferred to a subway line, then to another subway line, then I lost count of all the Parisian subways, and then we walked a little only to arrive at my cousin's apartment, from where you can see the Eiffel Tower (!), and the Gare de Lyon, which I originally mistook for the Big Ben. Forgive me, I was tired.

We had baguette with tuna cream for dinner, and at that moment, our habit of eating sandwiches with various fish products was established.

That is my day #0 in Paris in a nutshell, You think this was a long post? Wait until tomorrow's. And I didn't even mention the infamous fountain yet...

September Is Sad + I Watched Boyhood

I was originally going to title this post more inventively. Think along the lines of 'September Is Originally the Seventh Month, So Let's Pretend It's July' or 'No Wonder September and Sadness Alliterate'.

However, I am currently midst a writer's block, it's 10 PM, and let's not once again forget that September is a sad, depressing month that sucks the creativity out of you like an overfunctioning vacuum cleaner.

Please do not be offended by my subsequent bluntness.

So, where do we start? Oh yes, the first day of school. Not much to say there, the incoming 9th graders had distressingly short skirts, but you know what they say? The younger you are, the shorter the skirts get. Or something like that. But who am I to judge?

Which leads me to my second point. Recently, I decided that I no longer want my closet to be made up of black pants and matching black tank tops, with occasional metallic spikes thrown in. That's why, on a whim, I decided to go shopping, which turned out perfectly, except now everybody's like:
"Where did you get those over-the-knee socks?"
"Wow, do you think floppy hats would look good on me to?"
"My gosh, I should wear skirts more often, too!"
"Did that tragus piercing hurt?" (Oh yeah, I got a tragus piercing over the summer, along with some others. After 8 years, my mom couldn't stop me)
So no, I don't follow fashion. Fashion follows me, apparently.

Anyway, what else? I've finished my CommonApp essay about five minutes ago. The struggle was real. I'm still not entirely convinced that it can be submitted. I mean, I absolutely love how it turned out, but it reads more like a contemplative short story than an essay on how great I am. Yeah, we'll see about that.

Oh, and then there's graduation ball. So, I've been waiting for this since I was 15. I've got a beautiful dress. I've carefully considered whom I'd like to invite. I created a Pinterest just to find hairstyle ideas. I watched 34 make-up tutorials and spent more than I'll admit on make-up. And it's all falling apart. Why?

• The music. We'll be dancing to this song, which just about sets the mood for a lap dance. Had I known we were to dance to this, I'd have ditched the ballgown and gone straight for the latex bikini. Honestly, I was a strong advocate for this and this song, but you can't convince the mob.
• The class dance. We're basically doing aerobics. And we'll have to dress as lawyers. Again, I had a great idea for a Charleston dance, but again the crowd wasn't impressed. I mean, they liked it but that's as far as it went. Now I have to kiss my flapper fantasies goodbye.
• Thirdly, nobody seems to consider the fact that parents and grandparents and teachers are invited to this thing, who are now going to watch their beloved grandchildren and kids and students shake their asses to screeching music, in miniskirts. 'Cause that what we'll be dancing in. Oh well...

On another note, I watched Boyhood. I don't know why this is news, but I did, and I was pretty impressed. It was just what I had expected really, it wasn't better nor worse. I'm not sure if it really deserves all the hype around it, but it's a solid film. I'll probably review it on my tumblr, but for now I'll just say that what I liked the most is how it isn't like a film at all. If you've read Syd Field's screenwriting book, you'll know how a film has 3 acts, and two plot points. Well this didn't, and that's what made it so realistic - there was no obvious plot, it's just bits and pieces of somebody's life. It's also set in real time, with music (and an Obama campaign, which might have been my favorite scene!) indicating what year it is, and that's simply genius! And-

Oh, yeah, did I mention how once I start analyzing a film, I can't stop? If not, I'm mentioning it now. Intervention has been called, so I won't continue. Find the review on my tumblr. Though it might take a while till I post it...my posting has been so sporadic there recently that it's become the haunted house of the Internet...

 I also went to the Bristol open day, but I've just noticed that I haven't posted about my time in Paris yet either, and that was a year ago. So yes, you might read about me visiting Skins filming locations next September.

Quick photo before watching Boyhood. And no, I haven't kept to wearing black. My tights were turquoise, for the record.