Well, Now That I'm Here...

Friends, Romans, countrymen, bonjour from Paris!

I have finally arrived. Let's start off by saying that Xanax is a miracle drug, seeing as how it allowed me to sleep through my entire 7-hour flight - even if that also meant that I slept through the meals. They weren't good anyway.

Secondly, the obvious: France is beautiful. As I was touching down at Charles de Gaulle, I could see the Eiffel Tower in the distance, a landmark that can fill even the most frightened and anxious visitor with hope and excitement. Upon managing to get to the actual city, I met my darling roommate Jillian at a quaint French apartment where she had been staying with her family for the past week, (a familiar face in a foreign country might trump the sight of the Eiffel Tower in greatness and comfort). From there, I took my sweaty, jet-lagged, tired ass to the Centre du Pompidou with the clan of Jillian's family, ate some eggs benedict, and felt instantly rejuvenated.

To really get down to business, though, I'll cut right to the chase: Why am I here? I thought I knew the answer to that question before landing, but I learned much more at orientation with our Paris supervisor/teacher Maria Al Salem. The run-down goes like this:

For this week, the entire group of Lake Forest College students in the program will be staying in the CISP (a youth hostel) in the 13th arrondissement. I'm told the hostel is new, which I only really believed when I opened the door to my own bathroom to find very sexy lighting and a nice, clean shower.
On Monday, I will be shipped off to live with my host family - an elderly couple with one daughter who now lives in London doing something fancy. The female half, Sybille, used to be a chef, and following her stint in the food industry, did press for such fashion designers as Nina Ricci and Chanel. Hello, my new best friend.
We'll be taking French classes with Veronique Du Parc, a rumored amazingly nice woman who won't speak a lick of English, but will improve your French within days alone. On our off-days from class, we'll take historical excursions with the aforementioned Maria, a kind blonde with a sexy, ambiguous accent and a knack for addressing everything that moves with a pet name. I guess it also makes me feel better to have already been referred to as "kiddo", "dear", and "darling" in the few hours that I've been here.
And then comes the internship - this is the unusual part about the abroad program. As the classes with Madame Du Parc taper off, we enter into very intensive internships at real French companies; companies who did the same reviewing of our transcripts, photos, and resumes as any other employer. I have been lucky enough to have been placed working at a theatre outside Paris, (yes, I will have to commute to work. So what else is new). As far as I know, I'll be working very closely with a gentleman named Andrew, who I've gathered to be either the producer or the director of the production. Rehearsals start in November; until then, I'll be doing research for the project. I won't know more until I actually get there, but I have every reason to believe it'll be an invaluable experience. Fingers crossed, of course.

Until then, I'm filled with... what am I filled with? I'm excited, first and foremost. There's so much that I want to see, so many places I look forward to visiting, foods I hope to try, art I want to marvel at... the list goes on.

My tattoo is itchy. I still haven't showered. I can't figure out how to use the cell phone that was provided to us by the school, (how does anyone communicate in this country?). I always wish that all my family and friends were with me. But I'm hopeful. And if nothing else, I can live the next 3 and a half months having a relationship with myself. Despite the potential pending loneliness and feelings of alienation, homesickness, and the rest, I have me. And I like me. I think myself and I will have a very good time together.