Last week one of my good friends said to me “Parisiens change with the weather. Look, it’s sunny and warm and all of a sudden people are smiling.”

She couldn’t have been more right.

Last Monday afternoon after going into Sciences Po to get a few things, I walked to a café nearby school to sit and write. Two 1st year French college students were sitting at the table next to me. They leaned over to ask me a grammar clarification (so much for trying to blend in!) and we ended up talking for almost 2 hours: them in English and me in French. We talked about everything, stereotypes, soccer, school, etc… It was perfect. They were studying for their English final exam the next day and I had my French final on Tuesday as well. So sun in Paris brings conversation too.

Also, with more smiling faces, come more unsolicited approaches from certain French men. Over the last week, it has happened to me daily instead of just once or twice a week as was normal. It all came to a highpoint yesterday with a day-ending tally of 4 really earnest attempts. Its not me! I can attest for this. I have not changed appearance at all except for having horrible split ends! Yesterday in particular, I hadn’t showered in 30 hours and was feeling pretty gross since a pulled leg muscle has made me take a 2 week break from running. (It’s getting better, but it needs to heal fast, I am getting really antsy!). My favorite from yesterday ended with the unsuccessful solicitor making crying noises and rubbing his eyes. Really? Did it need to come to that?!

I’ve become a master at the “swift side glance then stare straight forward and pick up the pace”. I’ve become so good in fact that on Friday night a man looking for directions to the metro had to give a loud insulted “huff” before I realized he was an innocent and that I should have stopped and listened, which I then did. How this newly mastered skill will be translated once I return, I’m nervous to find out—you all may just have to remind me that not all 30-40 year-old men have a hidden agenda…

After one more week of classes, my last big paper is complete, another group project is finished and can estimate my remaining school work to be no more then 2 hours of effort. I will still have to attend classes through the 18th but as far as I am concerned, I am checked out of Sciences Po. This afternoon I spent an hour going through all of my books and papers from the past semester and though not the 15 pounds of last semester, my recycle pile was pretty impressive to say the least. From now through the end of June, my friends here are laden with papers and final exams. I’m one of the few lucky ones whose scheduling worked out like this. However, this now means I have an incredible amount of idle time on my hands, time that I have not had since before arriving in France, and for the first time I’ve become a little bored. Ha! I can’t believe I’m actually admitting to this! The truth is, after 2 months of visiting and revisiting monuments, parks and museums with visitors, I’m a bit tired of the highlights (that I still love!). My brother comes at the end of the month and I know I will see most of them all again with him. It’s just a matter of filling the time between now and then. My apartment is spotless, I’m very well-rested, I’m up to date on all US politics and news, I’m almost caught up on my long back-log of e-mails, and I confirmed and reconfirmed summer plans in CO. Now I’m working my way through Venice travel guides, and am reading a few books I picked up at the English bookstore. My real disappointment came in trying to make a few concrete plans for the weekends. Since arriving I’ve wanted to take a cooking class and travel to the southern Riviera. However, after 12 hours of fruitless internet searching yesterday, my limited budget just can’t match the summer demands. I really can’t complain though. I know have the time to do things I have wanted to do for months, especially read, and once the Paris sun comes out again (its been a week of clouds) I’ll be set up on park benches and cafés for the rest of the month.

My “to do before I leave list” is down to a handful now, full of checkmarks since its production in early October. It’s pretty amazing to see everything I have done. Today I went to St. Chapelle, a gothic cathedral built at the same time as Notre Dame but in 6 years as opposed to 200. It’s smaller of course but was built to house Jesus’ crown of thorns and is therefore surrounded by the most magnificent stain-glass windows I have ever seen; supposedly they depict the stories of the bible from Genesis through Judgment Day. I was in line next to 2 Texan boys, recent high school grads on a 24 day trip through Europe who reminded me all too much of my brothers! They told me about the French Open’s final challenge between Federer and Nadal—it would be shown at the Hotel de Ville (where they showed the rugby games in September) at 3pm. Though I knew the Open was going on, without a TV I haven’t been able to follow it. So at 3pm I went over to the Hotel de Ville and joined the crowds sitting on the pavement to watch Federer play (so they say) one of his worst matches ever. There were a few Spaniards there too though, and claiming victory in front of the Parisien crowd was all too good.

I arrived home to find an e-mail from the SNCF, one of two companies who run the Paris metro system. Strikes? Again?! You better believe it! Last week, RATP took a Wednesday off and this Tuesday it will be SNCF’s turn. President Sarkozy is not a favorite here. There is a strike season that the unions generally follow to the convenience of the locals. Historically, it’s October-November and sometimes mid-February if necessary. These recent strikes are cutting into tourist season and therefore the funds that make this city go. I’m guessing Sarkozy has a long, strike-filled term ahead of him. For me, these strikes are a far cry from last November. Unless I feel like heading up to Montmartre or to the outskirts, I can get around easily daily without taking the metro at all. I guess this is a good thing now that Lindsay has been back in the states since April. My 2nd home in Paris is now longer.

This time round however, the sun is out (well most of the time) and people don’t mind walking so much, smiling faces and all.