Packing

I was packing yesterday and going through all the things my mother got me for my trip when I came across a Pez (the candy) made in the shape of a Democratic Donkey. I sized up my themed piles to determine which one I should throw it into, out of "bathroom supplies," "winter clothes," "important documents".....I decided to go with "first aid kit supplies" since it seemed to be the only remotely fitting option.

After my last trip to the Consulate yesterday to certify translations of my passport and birth certificate, I have finally obtained all the paperwork I need for my travels. Now if I want to get thrown out of France, I'm going to have to do something drastic like break an unspoken rule of Parisian fashion. Before my Junior Year Abroad, the only rule of fashion that I knew anything about was that you were never supposed to mix black and brown. But in the wintertime there, the rule seems to be altered to: wear any combinations of colors that are as dark and depressing as people's stares on the metro. And don't smile. Never smile.

Which brings up an interesting point I was chatting about with someone the other day. Americans wonder why people in certain foreign cultures never smile, whereas people in certain foreign cultures wonder why American people are always smiling. I find that I often have to stretch my jaw when I'm in Paris, and I never realized why until that conversation: because I apparently don't smile there as often as I normally do. Nevertheless, I know I'll be happy to go back and am very much looking forward to la rentree! (First day of school)