inside Rhodes » Chelsea

How to act like a 13 year old with out really trying

Chelsea — Sat, 25 Jul 2009 17:05:46 +0000

Oh my gosh. Best night ever. Seriously. I went with some French friends to the fair next to the Tuileries. The rides there are somewhat like you would find at a country fair in the boonies where the safety regulations haven’t been checked in 20 years . The fair is also geared towards ages 7-14. Quick reminder: I’m 20. So after gulping down a coca light at MacDo (McDonalds) we set out to join the preteens and their parents. Ah yes, I almost forgot the weather. While inside MacDo it rained…sideways. But it was a quick and violent Paris rain that quickly passed. So all the rides were laden with beads of water. So we charged onward to the flying chairs. It was during this ride my French friends revealed their knowledge of the song “I believe I can fly.” (I should add that everyone was completely sober) They got about ½ the words right. Then we went on to this giant, poorly painted cloud that goes in a circle, quite quickly. We sat down, pants soaked immediately, lap bar lowers. I can see that I can easily escape, anyone under 200 pounds could. As a result of peer pressure I raise my arms in the air and scream with glee as we speed away. I literally rose 2 inches above the seat -oh my gosh scary. Next, we went to the giant slide with carpets you sit on. Yes, the ones that usually have a maximum height regulation. Not here! Now I know why we have that regulation. Each time we went down the cushion in front of a metal panel would flip to the other side greeting the last person to arrive with a rough landing. Also surprisingly scary. Then we moved on to what resembled a McDonald‘s play place. I was wearing high heels because I left directly from work. They didn’t really pose a problem. It was like an added level of difficulty. We ended the night with a calm ride on the Ferris wheel. I’m ready for round two.

Bastille Day Festivities

Chelsea — Wed, 15 Jul 2009 13:07:40 +0000

I just watched Johnny Halladay perform live in front of the Eiffel Tower. Sounds incredible right? NO. Not incredible. Incredibly terrible. Me versus 800,000 people = defeat. I am lucky to have escaped unscathed. Seriously French people are vicious about this guy. Trying to weasel my way out this woman literally started screaming that too many people were passing in front of her and she couldn’t see. Which is completely ridiculous because you can’t see squat anyway with that many people. Every now and then you are lucky if you glimpse a corner of the screen. Let me count the ways I was almost maimed: lit cigarettes, stepped on, pushed, screamed at. I could go on because angry people are creative.. But I won’t.

Ok, it wasn’t all bad. The best part (and this is going to sound bad) was laughing at people. You see, the asphalt was melting because of the heat and everyone that sat down stood up with ruined pants.(especially those who made the mistake of wearing white). This one guy in front of Suzanne, Gwen, and I got up and we heard this huge de-sticking noise, then his mom proceeded to check out his behind to make sure his pants hadn’t ripped. Then Suzanne started imitating the belligerent over served man behind us. So there were some good parts, but next time, I’ll watch it on TV.

The Paris Air Show

Chelsea — Sat, 11 Jul 2009 12:26:27 +0000

Generally, if I finish early, I’m allowed to leave early, or at least I have been. The perfect incentive to be productive is gaining more Paris exploration time.

A few weeks ago it was a little different. No 9-5 work schedule for me. It was the you are an investment banker and you will never sleep again schedule. I exchanged water for coffee and fell asleep in front of the other interns on the bus ride-embarrassing but unavoidable. It was the week of the Paris Air Show at Le Bourget, hundreds of plane manufacturers come to Paris to find buyers. The interns were in charge of delivering flyers and manning the Operations Center (aka a booth). Booths are not exciting because you never get to leave them. They are like little tiny jail cells from which you can see all the people around you having fun but you can’t join them. Kind of like time out when I was little. Delivering flyers is fun but tiring and the booths are hard to find. After two or three hours of trying to find booths you just want to go back to your own. Over three days that booth accumulated enough paper to give a green rights activist a heart attack. I even hid food under the podium so when I got stuck for long periods of time I didn’t get too grumpy. Ahh I have failed to mention when the Paris Air Show starts and ends-never. We had to be at the bus at 7:30am and the bus got back around 7:00pm. From the bus I took the metro home. Basically by the time I got home it was time to fall asleep and then I got to wake up and do it again.

I must however mention that they do have a coffee, a godsend after and during the 12 hour days we are here. It’s clean, and smells nice too (so you know you are outside the Paris city limits.) Everything is clear, bright, and eye catching. The location is more or less a glorified warehouse. The chalets, where well off businessmen and politicians go to dine and negotiate deals, look like little trailer parks or mini restaurants. They get transported in and out by golf carts. Everyone else gets to walk. I’ll try post some videos if I can figure it out, the planes and displays are pretty incredible.

Mourning the internet

Chelsea — Sat, 11 Jul 2009 12:00:29 +0000

It’s amazing how much of my day revolves around a computer. I would have been very unemployable back in the 50’s. All day at work I shoot people emails. I would call myself a professional email-er but I don’t get paid. Literally, hours and hours of screen staring, I can almost hear my eyes cussing at me by the end of the day. Then I get home and hop back on the computer for the good stuff, face book, msn, you tube… Now that my internet is down at home, I know I am a junkie. Tomorrow (Saturday) I’m going to stake out McDonalds with my laptop, just the two of us (insert song). But seriously, not having internet at home stinks. I have lately been forced to watch French TV. Even the French interns don’t watch French TV stations. Some days you just need a good face book stalk.

Leave it to a girl to dedicate an entire entry to her purse

Chelsea — Sat, 11 Jul 2009 11:51:58 +0000

This may or may not be normal but, after I make a purchase that I am really excited about I go look at it every so often. Today I bought a beautiful leather purse that is made to look like alligator. I hopped in an antique store after a dropping off a parcel at the post office. I was in a gleeful mood because the girls I tutor canceled, so I won a free afternoon. I’ve been tearing up French antique stores for weeks, looking for a purse exactly like this, with a realistic price (even dragging my boyfriend with me). I had found a few others but they were several thousand dollars and thus far beyond my price range (they were actual crocodile). So 30 euros seemed very reasonable. So, after every few chapters I dash back to the kitchen to visit my new purse, almost as if to see if it’s still as lovely. It is.

Never a dull day

Chelsea — Sat, 11 Jul 2009 11:49:17 +0000

Never a dull day in Paris. Literally never. Today was lively for all the wrong reasons, but Parisians are the nicest people in the world so it all worked out. The first thing that happened was that the internet went out. Seems dull and annoying. It was, but I got to meet my beyond sweet neighbors. First I read the internet connection manual which is no Dan Brown novel. Then I went to the store where the lady pleasantly told me that she was a saleswoman, not a technician and that I should call the help number. Well apparently to call the help number you need a landline and I only have a cell phone. So it was time to meet the neighbors. Luckily, they are awesome. Marie has a beautiful artsy-chic apartment and gorgeous fluffy grey cat named Isis that she plopped on her lap like one would a baby. She made me a café (espresso) and helped me call the number and figure out what they were saying. Parisian help lines are no faster than American ones and I was on the phone for 8 minutes waiting. Finally I was connected and we conversed in a mix of French and English. It turns out that the manual didn’t help because the problem was that the bill hadn’t been paid. So I emailed my mom’s friend (from whom I am renting the apartment) and tada the rest of that problem is up to her.

The second thing that happened today was kind of scary at first but looking back it’s pretty hilarious. Riding home on the metro, when we aren’t all jammed in like 10 Americans in a French elevator, the metro is very relaxing. I have my book, and there is the white noise of chatter in the back ground along with the relatively gentle sway of the train. So I was sitting there, absorbed in a really exciting part of my book where the couple is deciding whether to break up or not, and that’s when I heard manic screaming. Like someone was caught in the train doors screaming. I whipped my head around and saw a mother with children. She was screaming that he was in the train. So I assumed her child was physically caught in the train. I quickly got up and took a few steps. Luckily nothing so serious had occurred. One of her sons had just hopped aboard, but she was still on the platform with the other children. Luckily, the lady behind me yelled to the Mom that she would bring her son back to her. At the next stop she hopped off with the boy and they headed back. That little rascal scared the living daylights out of his mom. It made me laugh later when I realized it’s totally something I would have done as a child. Moral of the stories is: the generosity and kindness of strangers is unexpected and great.

Glorious Fatigue

Chelsea — Sat, 11 Jul 2009 11:47:23 +0000

Work was long. Work was hard. Work is not fun. I think I want to go to graduate school. Several more years of work avoidance. I literally spent hours making miniscule adjustments to a flyer and several more writing a press release. They both came back thoroughly marked up. Frustrating. I would have gone home after and moped around for several hours until my puffed eyes collapsed with exhaustion. (Tyler left for Arkansas this morning and neither of us were happy to leave the other.) Thank goodness the girls I recently started tutoring for called right when I got done. Saved from myself. Two hours of tutoring plus one hour of transportation after a full day at work leaves me right about at exhaustion. But not too exhausted to type!

In perkier news, I had 2 big accomplishments this week. The first was discovering mineral water, a delicious way to get all your vitamins, and the second was getting a library card. Since there is only so much that can be said on the delectable nature of mineral water I’ll concentrate on the library card.

It all started in the metro, or as I like to call it, the underground Parisian rat maze. There are poster ads everywhere in the metro, probably to distract people from claustrophobia , usually advertising movies, or concerts. (They should really put the ad sales to keeping it cleaner) One particular ad caught my eye, not because it was well done but because it was for a book. Several days later I saw a girl on the metro reading it and I asked if it was any good. She said that these author’s books are written in pretty much the same style, but it’s still pretty good. So I though about it for a few days, (because books are freaking expensive!) and splurged. Now I was working through this book and the problem was that I liked it and it was going too quickly. I can’t exactly drop 20 euros (especially when I have a fetish for almond croissants) on a new book every week so I decided to try my luck at the library. Victory! With just a piece of identity and an address I was set. The librarian almost write down my name as Jesse White, the Illinois Secretary of State. I guess she has never seen an Illinois Drivers License before.

My Badge

Chelsea — Fri, 26 Jun 2009 20:36:46 +0000

My Badge is the new IT jewelry. Ok maybe not but it is really cool. It is yellow as opposed to blue (which supposedly means that I’m French, or a French resident) and it says U.S. Embassy on it in big letters. Sometimes I put it on the metro to feel important. Then I don’t look like a tourist. Last night I was watching the movie Body of Lies with Leonardo Di Caprio and I saw something cool. Leonardo was playing a CIA agent and he had the exact same one! Yep, true story. Except recently I was told that we aren’t supposed to wear it in public because it makes us a target. Sad day, but Leonardo almost died a couple of times so I guess it’s worth the sacrifice. I’m still going to wear it in the office though

The first day

Chelsea — Fri, 26 Jun 2009 20:35:34 +0000

So much has happened since I last wrote anything. I’m so prepared for blogging today, I even cut my nails for super fast typing. The building is beautiful and located in the financial district. NASA is across the hall and all the other floors are owned by a French magazine called Figarro. The first day I had no idea what to do for lunch so I wandered out to the elevator by myself, planning on heading down the street to pay an outlandish amount for a sandwhich and apple. In the elevator was Charles, a man that works at the office. He was having lunch with an American client and going to the basement where, unbenonst to me, there exists a delicious cafeteria. He invted me to eat with him and his client-so cool. The man works out of Elmhurts, a whopping 15 minutes from my house in Illinois. At the end of the lunch he gave me his card. Yay my first card!

Fete de la Musique

Chelsea — Fri, 26 Jun 2009 20:26:23 +0000

Fete de la musique was awesome! I saw no less than 5 bands, (two of which were good). One day a year hundred’s of bands set up their equipment every few blocks and play for several hours. Everyone goes out because there aren’t many things that are free here (even some bathrooms charge). People set up grills, and cafes stay open late. The metro runs all night so the mass exodus of teens can safely return home.

I decided to partake in said amusement. So of course, instead of reading a magazine with the list of all the bands and plotting out which ones I wanted to see, I wandered. It’s just depressing when I use a map, it never works. I just get frustrated. Besides, if I wander I have low expectations and get really excited when I actually find something. So I aimed for popular aka touristy places. The first place I went was Luxembourg Gardens. Underneath a canopy of trees I found a steel drum band. It was just kids, but they had choreographed dance moves that went along with the music. (It was way more professional than my 7th grade band where one kid picked his nose during our performance) The other one I really liked was a tectonic band near Montmartre (my apartment). There were clouds of smoke everywhere and it took me a while to figure out that they were barbecuing hot dogs! I guess they weren’t used to it because they were almost all burned. That’s about when I realized I was hungry and pretty desperate at that if the scent of burnt hot dogs smelled appetizing. I made it back pretty quickly, I guess my sense of direction works better when chocolate mousse awaits.

My first day

Chelsea — Fri, 26 Jun 2009 20:11:28 +0000

Laundry

Chelsea — Tue, 09 Jun 2009 18:43:41 +0000

I have an important accomplishment to report. I have mastered this newfangled washer/dryer. Yes, it is one machine that does both, mind blowing. That means that there are twice as many buttons, and they are all in French. But alas, I read the manual, put the detergent in right slot (I guess my laundry got a good rinse the first round) and pressed start. A victory for personal hygiene two weeks in the making.

Major intern perk

Chelsea — Sun, 07 Jun 2009 18:03:29 +0000

We got to cash in on one of the perks of unpaid internship today. On Friday an email popped up in my mail box. Usually an email means that I have a task of some sort to do so it was a great surprise to hear that we were invited to meet the president! Even the French interns were giddy! They may have talked about it more than we did! We arrived at Place de la Concorde at 7:45am and had to get through a TON of security. There were about 10 blue French police vans and a major section of the street was blocked off. We walked for a while on the brick street to the ambassador’s beautiful garden. The other people there were marines, their families, Commercial Services, and us interns. After waiting in the rain for about 1.5 hours, (just about the time I was thinking about leaving) he came out. It wasn’t that he was late, we were just required to arrive super early. He was so close and I even got to shake his hand! He held up a baby and said something funny about how he hopped his daughters wouldn’t destroy anything at the ambassador’s house. I got pictures. We weren’t allowed to talk about it beforehand for security reasons. It only lasted about 15 minutes, but it was awesome.

Getting to work

Chelsea — Sun, 07 Jun 2009 17:56:21 +0000

My poor poor blog. You have been quite neglected this week because of work. It’s amazing how time consuming transportation, work, sleeping, and eating can be! T’was a crazy week although the craziness is beginning to adhere to a schedule. Each morning around 8 am I head down my street to get on the metro. If it’s still early there are people handing out newspaper and the water is still flowing down the streets from it’s nightly cleaning. It only temporarily clears the street of cigarette butts. The metro isn’t too crowded in the morning. It’s a rare day when there isn’t some sort of muscian on a train. The word musician is pretty loose term; sometimes it’s just a guy with a stereo. When I arrive at my stop I walk a block to my building, 14 Haussman. It’s a lovely building although the front door is currently under construction so we have to go in the back. I pull out my badge, (specially procured at the embassy last week), and ask the guard to let me past the first tournsel. Then up the elevator and through another door which requires another badge swipe. Past the funny British security guard named long John, the metal detector and one more badge swipe and I’m on my floor. The whole trip can take up to 40 minutes! I found out that they get very very unhappy if you forget your badge. (Especially the second time.)

Office description: the office is quite open, there are really only two actual offices for the bosses. Everyone else is divided into desks with one or two computers. The interns sit towards the back at a set of 4 computers grouped together. There are some things I’m not supposed to talk about for security reasons but I promise you aren’t missing anything interesting! The best parts of my day are early in the morning (when no one is there and there is still a serious ammount of coffee in my bloodstream), and lunch when all the interns high tail it to the kitchen to catch up. That’s all for now!

Talking to strangers

Chelsea — Mon, 25 May 2009 06:53:01 +0000

So I tried to read but I kept thinking about my trip here. The plane ride was… interesting. I sat next to a guy who wanted to talk, for about seven hours of the flight. I wanted to practice my French, but really? 7 hours? Excessive. I was torn away from watching several bad movies I was looking forward to, like Mall Cop. Later he tried (emphasis on tried) to kiss me! And not the normal French kind where you kiss eachother on the cheeks. Oh dear. He did help me find the metro which was good since I would have missed it. The next talking-with-strangers-experience was wonderful. I went up to two women on the RER to ask for directions. I know the metro but the bus system and RER is confusing. The RER is a train too but it goes faster and farther out of Paris. They were cousins and one was from Qubec, about 60 years old each. They were the sweetest grandmotherly women, one even gave me her mini metro map to navigate Paris for the rest of the summer. So I made it from the RER to the metro and then got off at my stop, throughout the changes a ton of people helped me lift my large black suitcase up sets of stairs. The metro stop Jules Joffrin is under construction so it isn’t very pretty but when I made it up the last flight of stairs I found a beautiful and clearly well run neighborhood. It’s picturesque and so is my appartment.

A few more days

Chelsea — Mon, 25 May 2009 06:46:01 +0000

When you go far away to school you don’t see your parents much, everything get’s condensed into the holidays. This summer I won’t be around. It’s amazing what you will agree to when you know you won’t see your family for three months. Yesterday I went on a 30 mile bike ride with my Dad. (I probably ate about 6 meals afterwards) Later that night I agreed to a family hot tub chat; let’s just say it was necessary at that point. So after being thoroughly exhausted by father-daughter bonding I passed out in my bed. When I woke up, I thought packing would be relatively relaxing. It’s also a good excuse to try on all your clothes, a little fashion show for the dog. It ended up that everything I needed was in the basement and my bedroom is on the second floor. So my goal of of extreme lethary was thwarted. Only a few days left of killing time.

An internship in Paris, I’m almost jealous of myself

Chelsea — Sat, 16 May 2009 13:28:35 +0000

How did this luck come about? Why applications and persistant emails of course. The idea hit me after I had a blast on Maymester last summer. I absolutely love France in general (I’ve got some family there: Corsica, Paris, and Charix). So in about November I made an appointment with Career Services and asked Sandi George Tracy if there were any internships I could apply for (in France). She had a contact at FedEx named Andrew Russell and he told her about an opportunity with U.S. Commercial Services, apparently they do a lot of work with FedEx. He recommended me (without us even having met) and I filled out a freakishly long application-28 pages or so.

Several months later I sent a few emails to see if they had received my application. It took quite some time but I remember screaming at the computer (with glee of course) a tad bit after Christmas. Mom ran into the computer room because she thought I was hurt, but really she ought to know by now because I always scream like I’ve been stabbed when I’m ecstatic. Bill Crawford said something to the effect of “we would look forward to having you as an intern this summer if you go through security.”

Getting through security was a whole crazy whirl altogether. I had to get finger printed at the Memphis County jail which is an incredibly undelightful place. I sat there and waited next to a woman who asked if the f-5 document would satisfy crimes in Memphis or all cities in TN. It was worth it though because I was approved. Recently, I talked to the intern who worked there last summer, but other than her I don’t have a solid grasp on what I’ll be doing there. But it’s Paris! Anything more than coffee runs and I’ll be satisfied. In 7 short days (who am I kidding, waiting is such a slow process) I will be in Paris in my own apartment!