Poitiers: “I Know You’re Looking at My Boots” and other Tales from the Medieval City

I’ve finally finished my paper for my antique art class, and I’ll turn it in tomorrow. We’ll see how that goes, because I can’t say I covered the entire near-East on the Mediterranean. I can’t even say that the prof. won’t laugh reading my paper. I tried, however. The length is more than enough, so I hope the content is good. Did I mention that I finished my paper? (See evidence below, thanks to command+shift+4):

Now I just have a book to read and two movies to watch for literature, two “contrôles” (exams in disguise) in December followed by two final exams; then three final exams in January. Joyeux Noël! Which reminds me: Christmas commercials are already on. I say “already”, but I guess it is the middle of November. Anyhow, it feels weird to see these commercials in French, but they are entertaining. Keeping an eye out for wack-o ones so I can post them here, don’t worry. Of course, I’m excited for Christmas break, too!

Other than that, today we had a really filling dinner of vegetable and beef broth, followed by a little bread and some cheese. I was hungry two hours later. However, yesterday we had a light dinner of duck, potatoes sautéed in duck fat, and red wine to go with it (has no one written the book “If You Give a Frenchman a Duck . . .”?); we ate a special type of mushroom, too. The name sounds like “set”, so when I remember I’ll update the post for the gourmands reading this. You know, it was just your typical Monday night dinner. Normally we eat that level of cuisine for lunch on Sunday, but this time it was reversed. No complaints here.

P.S. I’m collecting the recipes. Although I don’t think I’ll find rabbit in the U.S. very easily.

Actually, the dinner felt like a celebration, because as of 11h00/11AM (5AM U.S.) on Monday I was officially given my long-stay visa (which is safely and permanently affixed to a page in my passport). What did I have to do to get my visa? Many little steps, starting in late August, involving things called “letters” and “stamps”. I’d almost forgotten what those were.

Then, last Friday I had a pulminary X-ray to make sure that all was good under the hood, so to speak. I have a lot more ribs than I thought. They could have just given me a shot in the arm to verify that I didn’t have tuberculosis, but instead they did it the French way. At least they were efficient. Then this past Monday, I had to have a check-up. I’m healthy! Although, whereas they could’ve given me a shot en lieu of an X-ray at the radiology clinic, the doctor told me to keep my boots *on* when I attempted to take them off before stepping on the scale. What kind of logic is that?!

I thought it must be some cultural thing, but appparently my host mom said that was funny, too. Ah, well. I do have some pretty amazing shoes. Better to keep them on my feet. So, I know my weight in kilos in case I ever need to let someone know “that’s what I weight with by boots on”. Well, I was born in Texas (you know, cowgirl boots and all that). Besides that, I had an eye exam (in which I remembered how long it’s been since I’ve visited an opthamologist), my blood pressure is “ideal” apparently (I’ll take it), I know my (lack of) height in meters, aaaannnd–

C’est fini! I have my visa and no more paperwork to do for the rest of the year. At least with the government. Unless they know something I don’t.

A la prochaine!

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One thought on “Poitiers: “I Know You’re Looking at My Boots” and other Tales from the Medieval City

  1. Anonymous says:

    Congratulations on your visa, Molly! At least they let you keep on your boots and save a little dignity…. :-).

    Oh yes…You might think about stashing a chocolate bar in your backpack to ward off hunger on those light dinner days!

    Love you xxxxooooo. Mom

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