Today, I'm almost tempted to say, was a bad day.
I am apparently allergic to something in Paris, because my immune system has gone entirely berserk! Today I woke up, for the third morning in a row, with my eyes swollen SHUT, and a bright red puffy painful rash all over my face. (Needless to say, I'm not too pretty at the moment).
This whole ordeal began about three days ago, and since then I've been in a benedryl/Zyrtec induced haze. The first day, people would say things like, "you look a little tired today." The next day, I heard things lie "Are you okay? it looks like you've been crying." But today, the general response was more like "OH MY GOSH what happened to your FACE!??"
If you've ever seen Will Smiths allergic reaction in the movie Hitch, it's like that. I mean, I'm already within walking distance of Notre-Dame; now all I need to do is develop a hunchback and go hang out in the bell tower—that's how messed up my face is.
So I suffered through three hours of French this morning, squinting through bright pink eyelids that are now about three inches too thick, and then scheduled myself a doctors appointment for 6:00 in the evening.
Finally, after a long, boring, and very itchy afternoon, I set out for my rendez-vous.
Of course, it's one of those days, so I had to go back three different times for things that I forgot.
And naturally, I made plenty of wrong turns and got lost on the way.
But I finally found the street, realized that I (miraculously) wasn't late, and felt my spirits lift with the thought that I was just a couple blocks away from someone who might be able to help! With my eye out for #27, I walked down the grungy, narrow little rue where the doctor's office was located. I passed 20, 21, 22, 23, okay, this is promising, 24, 25, almost there, 26, 28, 29, 30. Wait a minute...
Either this is where I'm supposed to pull out my wand, tap a few bricks, and wait for a magical alley to materialize before my eyes, of there is no #27.
I tried to look for it on the map on my phone, but the battery was too low. Of course.
So I walked back the way I came, trying to picture the map. I had taken the wrong street earlier though, so I wasn't coming from the same direction. Great!
Meanwhile, a heavy cloud of smoke from a crowded Tabac irritated my skin and made my lids swell so that there were just two puffy little slits where my eyes should have been...
Finally, after wandering around the area for a few minutes, I found #27 (nestled appropriately between #10 and #12, duh!). I made my way up a rickety and temperamental elevator that is about the size of my refrigerator, (my european refrigerator, not my American one...) and passed through a little black door into a dim waiting room.
When I was finally called into the Doctor's office, which was cheery but looked more like a personal apartment than a medical facility, I explained that I've been having a severe allergic reaction to something in Paris (as if it wasn't evident by my blimp of a face) and that benedryl and zyrtec have not had any effect.
Now, no matter how great French medical care supposedly is, I guess it was a bit naive of me to expect some miracle cure, especially since I didn't even know what was causing the alergic reaction...
But basically I was told, " just keep doing what you're doing, hopefully it'll go away. That'll be 30 euros, cash please."
When I left the building, it was raining.
I didn't have a coat, boots, or umbrella.
...or my metro pass.
In class today, Proff. Clemence told us about an expression that the French use;
"quelques jours vous avez, quelques jours vous n'avez pas" Or something to that effect...
Basically it means "there are good days and bad days"
I don't necessarily agree with that though. Whether in Paris or California, there are days when everything seems to be going wrong, days when you seem to be catching all the luck, and days that are just somewhere in the middle. In the end, though, I think it's attitude—the ability to appreciate blessings in disguise and seize opportunities—that determines whether your day is "bad" or "good". Today was not a bad day; it was a day to test my strength. I learned some valuable lessons, and even made some progress on my French.
For example, when a man on the street said to me "are you okay girl, you look a little tired no? Not so pretty tonight?" I was at first upset, but then I realized that I had understood everything that he said in FRENCH!
I also realized that his face always looks that ugly, whereas mine is just temporarily like this, so I really can't blame him for being bitter and rude. Poor guy.
Side note: I'm going to the Loire Valley tomorrow! and I booked a cheap train ticket to Amsterdam for november! I can't wait!
I am apparently allergic to something in Paris, because my immune system has gone entirely berserk! Today I woke up, for the third morning in a row, with my eyes swollen SHUT, and a bright red puffy painful rash all over my face. (Needless to say, I'm not too pretty at the moment).
This whole ordeal began about three days ago, and since then I've been in a benedryl/Zyrtec induced haze. The first day, people would say things like, "you look a little tired today." The next day, I heard things lie "Are you okay? it looks like you've been crying." But today, the general response was more like "OH MY GOSH what happened to your FACE!??"
If you've ever seen Will Smiths allergic reaction in the movie Hitch, it's like that. I mean, I'm already within walking distance of Notre-Dame; now all I need to do is develop a hunchback and go hang out in the bell tower—that's how messed up my face is.
So I suffered through three hours of French this morning, squinting through bright pink eyelids that are now about three inches too thick, and then scheduled myself a doctors appointment for 6:00 in the evening.
Finally, after a long, boring, and very itchy afternoon, I set out for my rendez-vous.
Of course, it's one of those days, so I had to go back three different times for things that I forgot.
And naturally, I made plenty of wrong turns and got lost on the way.
But I finally found the street, realized that I (miraculously) wasn't late, and felt my spirits lift with the thought that I was just a couple blocks away from someone who might be able to help! With my eye out for #27, I walked down the grungy, narrow little rue where the doctor's office was located. I passed 20, 21, 22, 23, okay, this is promising, 24, 25, almost there, 26, 28, 29, 30. Wait a minute...
Either this is where I'm supposed to pull out my wand, tap a few bricks, and wait for a magical alley to materialize before my eyes, of there is no #27.
I tried to look for it on the map on my phone, but the battery was too low. Of course.
So I walked back the way I came, trying to picture the map. I had taken the wrong street earlier though, so I wasn't coming from the same direction. Great!
Meanwhile, a heavy cloud of smoke from a crowded Tabac irritated my skin and made my lids swell so that there were just two puffy little slits where my eyes should have been...
Finally, after wandering around the area for a few minutes, I found #27 (nestled appropriately between #10 and #12, duh!). I made my way up a rickety and temperamental elevator that is about the size of my refrigerator, (my european refrigerator, not my American one...) and passed through a little black door into a dim waiting room.
When I was finally called into the Doctor's office, which was cheery but looked more like a personal apartment than a medical facility, I explained that I've been having a severe allergic reaction to something in Paris (as if it wasn't evident by my blimp of a face) and that benedryl and zyrtec have not had any effect.
Now, no matter how great French medical care supposedly is, I guess it was a bit naive of me to expect some miracle cure, especially since I didn't even know what was causing the alergic reaction...
But basically I was told, " just keep doing what you're doing, hopefully it'll go away. That'll be 30 euros, cash please."
When I left the building, it was raining.
I didn't have a coat, boots, or umbrella.
...or my metro pass.
In class today, Proff. Clemence told us about an expression that the French use;
"quelques jours vous avez, quelques jours vous n'avez pas" Or something to that effect...
Basically it means "there are good days and bad days"
I don't necessarily agree with that though. Whether in Paris or California, there are days when everything seems to be going wrong, days when you seem to be catching all the luck, and days that are just somewhere in the middle. In the end, though, I think it's attitude—the ability to appreciate blessings in disguise and seize opportunities—that determines whether your day is "bad" or "good". Today was not a bad day; it was a day to test my strength. I learned some valuable lessons, and even made some progress on my French.
For example, when a man on the street said to me "are you okay girl, you look a little tired no? Not so pretty tonight?" I was at first upset, but then I realized that I had understood everything that he said in FRENCH!
I also realized that his face always looks that ugly, whereas mine is just temporarily like this, so I really can't blame him for being bitter and rude. Poor guy.
Side note: I'm going to the Loire Valley tomorrow! and I booked a cheap train ticket to Amsterdam for november! I can't wait!
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