01 02   03   La Parisienne Temporaire: Taking Care of Business (CINQ) 04   05     15   16     19   20     21      22      23      24     25   26   27   28    31    32     33     

Taking Care of Business (CINQ)

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Despite getting in as late as we did last night, I managed to get up around 9:30 to Facetime with my mother until about 11, when Sheila and I had our breakfast. Madame was up, so we told her a little bit about our night, but we fudged some details... like how we got back at two in the morning and not three, as far as she knows...  Sheila gave me a big hug for taking care of her last night. To me, it's no big deal. She's taken care of me before, and as far as I'm concerned, I like stepping up in times of need. After breakfast, it was back to our rooms, and in my case, time to hit the final project for Mme. Hersant... I think the better part of Sheila's day was spent watching clips of The Ellen Show on YouTube, considering all of the laughing that was coming from her room... She's got just about all of her work done already. I have to admit, I'm definitely jealous...


At about four, after I'd managed to compile all of my photos neatly, and write most of my director's note of intention/project proposal in English (it's not entirely cheating, I'll need this in English next semester anyway), Sheila came in my room and told me that Joan had just woken up, and was on her way to Les Sablons to go to the MacDo and asked us if we'd meet her there. Sheila was going to go, so she wanted to know if I wanted to get dressed and go. I wasn't really hungry, but I figured getting out of the house to walk around and take a break would probably be a good thing, so I got dressed, and we went. Because it was cold, we were running late, and my knee was bothering me, we opted to walk to Porte Maillot and take the metro the one stop up to Les Sablons instead of walking the whole way there. This turned out to be a silly thing to do... Sheila realized she'd left her Navigo at home, so she had to buy a one-use ticket at the metro. Joan called me right when we got to Porte Maillot since she'd just made it to Les Sablons. Needless to say, we got a scolding for being lazy and taking the metro in the first place, let alone for Sheila having forgotten her Navigo... We made it despite ourselves. By the time we got there, Sheila and I were hungry, so all of us ordered meals. I opted for a double cheeseburger (with bun that I later gave to Sheila), some fries, and an iced tea. We hung out with Joan and chatted (mainly about the nonsense that was last night) until six, then we went back home. Despite my knee popping and cracking like I'd aged a couple decades in the past two hours, we walked all the way. It managed to heal itself about halfway home, so that was a relief.

Back to my work. I was sick of that paper, so I put all of my costume project stuff together by pairing my tracing paper sketches with a piece of opaque design paper that I'd jotted notes for each character on, like the name and purpose of the character, the style of the costume, the main colors that the character sported, as well as the names and descriptions of the garments the characters wore. The point of the two pieces of paper is for me to "close" the sketches I've done with the design paper (I'm flipping the sketch over so it's backwards) and I don't have to worry about them being smudged. I need to glue the pages together, then take them to Sweet Briar and have all of them copied. I'll keep these originals myself, and give the copies to Mme. Hersant.

After all that was done, Sheila and I had our dinner. Madame had left us some avocado and tomato for an entrée, along with some gluten-free pasta, and two types of ham. She headed off somewhere for the night shortly after we'd come home from MacDo. I sat back down at my computer and finished the paper, then ran it through Google Translate, and hand-edited it. Is it technically cheating? Probably. I definitely could have hand-translated the entire paper, but I managed to give myself a migraine on my last paragraph of the paper while I was still writing it in English, so there was no way that was happening. I knew I would have had to refer to Google Translate a few times while I was working on the paper anyway. As it is, I'm going to have Laura or Moira (one of the secretaries at Sweet Briar) read over the paper to check my grammar again, so I figure I'm triple-checking myself for errors, in a way. Google Translate is the lowest of the low, then I can go through and correct any robotic errors there, then Laura or Moira will make the paper more fluid, and catch anything my compromised brain couldn't.

With this, I head off to bed before I have to take the migraine medication that usually gives me lock jaw if I ever have to take it and still be awake an hour after I've ingested it. The "nice" migraine medication isn't helping very much today. Why yes, I do live a charmed life. Quelqu'un me tuer, s'il vous plaît.

Cette vie est un hôpital où chaque malade est possédé du désir de changer de lit. -Baudelaire. "Anywhere out of the world."

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