Des Choses Que J'ai Appris Jusqu'à Présent

I haven't been here long, but I've definitely learned quite a few things already. From silly to shocking, here are a few (in no particular order).

1. I'm sure this is true when travelling to any foreign destination, but I've been shocked at how some items are far less expensive here than in the United States (chèvre!) and some things are way more expensive. A dire example of the latter is notebooks, a necessary item for any college student and one that can be procured fairly cheaply in the U.S. Here in Paris, the cheapest, most basic one I could find was a whopping 6 euros, or just over EIGHT DOLLARS.  Maybe I'm a cheapskate, but this was both shocking and problematic (the price was perhaps partially due to the fact that most notebooks here seem to be graph paper; simple lined paper is rare).

2. The French seem to be allergic to wearing any sort of color. Sure, the H&Ms are chock-full of spring collections in all sorts of pastels and brights, but I have yet to see a real live French person wear much more than a scarf that wasn't black, grey, white, or the ever-adventurous beige. This is actually not a problem for me, because I don't seem to own much color either...

3. Macarons have some sort of addictive quality to them. This was probably obvious in my last post, and is pretty cliché for an American in Paris, but I am head-over-heels obsessed with these things. I don't really consider it a problem.

At the macaron baking workshop in Chartres. Clearly, an egg white whipping expert.

4. PEANUT BUTTER DOES NOT EXIST. Okay, it does, but at 5 euros for a container the size of my pinky finger found in one tiny grocery store in a remote corner of the city, it might as well not. I am not happy. Fortunately, my housemate Noelle's friends in London a) do not have the same problem, b) are visiting this weekend, and most importantly, c) are bringing us some of the good stuff. God save the Queen!

Edited to add: Noelle's father sent us four jumbo containers for Skippy's Natural, much to the disgust of our host mother. I think I'm gonna make it through the semester.

5. Baguettes. Baguettes. CHEESE. Baguettes. I think I'm developing an obsessive personality.