Poissy c'est la cité du rêve.

I woke up early again this morning-- extremely thirsty. I went over to my sink and drank while i was dreaming of ice. I apparently became an avid lover of cold things while growing up in the states. That's not so weird right? Nothing beats *ice* cold water.
I laid back in my bed and stared at the ceiling for over an hour.
I tried to fall back asleep but the more you think about sleeping, the less likely it will happen.

After about an hour of restlessness, the sand man comes and dumps a shit ton of dramamine on my face and then i sleep hard. I mean, as hard as a grandpa snoozes in his recliner with 13 grandkids screaming on christmas morning.

I wake up, and since i don't have a phone yet, i have to open up my laptop to see the time and it always shoots a big "fuck you" bright light in my face...5:45 a.m. Then, I say to myself "okay, one more hour and the sun will be up and you can stay awake." Then i fall asleep.....  I wake up to the bustling shoes outside, car honks, and muffled sounds of french that reach my ears. I try to lift my head, then arms, then shift the hips, and finally the legs. My body feels like i laid in wet cement and it's almost dry.
Gosh, i'm tired.
Then, I reach over to my laptop and it reads 1:30 pm. WHAT? How on earth did that happen? I'm not happy.

I rub my burning eyes and I decide that i need to get up.  I have these bright TN orange shorts and i put those on. Then i reached for my yellow Nashville predators T shirt because i wanted to be comfortable and it's bigger. I brushed my teeth, gobbled up a pain au chocolat. ( i can't eat before i brush my teeth. it's like starting with a white canvas, no?). I put on my shoes and went out for some fresh air.

I have been in the weirdest mood since arriving. It has not felt completely natural. Not that moving literally across the world, alone can feel "natural." However, i've dreamed of this for a long time and i wanted to arrive to the city and it open up it's big arms and hug me.

Well, the french don't hug. Okay, i wanted the city to come up to both of my cheeks and *mwah* *mwah* each side and say "Welcome." But such has not been the case. I blame it on the shitty jet lag, and the bitch who cut me in line.
Also, i technically live with 20 other people around my age and have yet to meet anyone. I hear them all the time in the shower or the kitchen but have never seen a single body part. I started thinking i lived with ghosts. I don't want to be that weirdo that runs into the kitchen and spout of my salutations in french to have them stare at me...i like more natural meetings. But it's made me feel a little lonely. When you move to a country all alone, you really can't help but feel all. alone. I met my first flatmate on the way out. He is a young black man from Guadeloupe who is a chef here in Poissy. His name is Stefan. He was very nice.

Nevertheless, I walked outside today and felt like today was going to be a good day. I had just finally met someone after all. Either way, I was going to will it into a good day.

I live in Poissy. It's just north of the 18th arrondissement (Montmatre). I live above a restaurant l'Esturgeon. It's a beautiful restaurant on the bank of la Seine, France's most famous river. It's hidden away from the main stretch of the river by two islands that have a secret garden feel of abandonment. The islands are juxtaposed by a beautifully manicured garden that hangs over the bank. Flowers of every color ordain the flood wall of about 5 feet that stretches about 50 feet horizontally in front of the restaurant. From the street level of the restaurant, a 19th century bridge juts over half of the river where it becomes just massive cathedral like pillars where no platforms connect. It's an ancient bridge that is only for view now. You can walk to where the bridge stops and many people fish off of this place.  At the river level of the restaurant, a rock path runs down the bank, a type of river walk and under the arch of the bridge. Benches line the path with light posts at each end. I see many couples come and watch the swans and ducks that have made there home by the refuge of the two islands. Squacks of "bonjour" feel the river.

I get to walk out to this scene everyday so there is no reason to not make this day a good day.

However, something was slightly out of the ordinary today by the river. Between all of the light posts where strung lights, and people were setting up tents along the bank. "Oh, this must be my welcome party," I chuckled to myself. i decided to come later that evening and check out what was going on.  I walked down to the path, south towards the new, modern bridge, about 500 ft down the river. The troll inside me led me under the bridge where the water was lapping up over the rocks. There were empty wine bottles, and beer cans, condoms, cigarette cartons and an odd amount of snicker rappers. A regular ole drunken orgy takes place here weekly i suppose, with a gluten who gets hankerings for peanuts and chocolate nuget. I saw a piece of drift wood that i decided to take out of the water and i placed it up closer to the shore to let it dry. It's my plan to go back later and make it a shelf filler.
After my stroll outside, i decided to go back to my room and finally finish putting everything away. I folded up all my clothes and put them in my wardrobe. I hung up about 1/4 of my clothes and folded the rest. Like everything else, hangers are stupidly expensive. I got 12 hangers for 15 dollars...yes, they are plastic. I lit my incense, nag champa...it clams me, and i put on Lil wayne. For some reason, i've really been into him lately. He is the last artist i'd think i'd get hooked to, but i think he's really talented.
I finally got my room all set. It could use some things on the wall though. I put that on my to do list.

I jumped in the shower and got dressed.
I grabbed my back pack and threw in my book, journal and pen because you never know where the evening will take you. I walked to the closest boulangerie. I walked in and asked what they had left since it was a little after 7 and they were about to close. She spouted off the different crudites and I chose the spicy chicken, with tomato, and cheese. I ordered a coke zero and paid. Then, i asked for change because i was going to need it for the train tomorrow. I said thanks and then I walked out and suddenly got the biggest grin across my face. That was all in french and there were no "huhs?" "qu'est-ce que tu as dit?" "quois?" I had a confidence. I started eating my sandwich and went back to my house to sit on the bank to see what the spectacle was going to be. The sun was setting and it had to be around 70 degrees with a slight breeze off the water. To my right was a group of what i suppose are gypsies. And to my left was a guy fishing. All of a sudden there was a man behind me dressed in some 19th century attire playing an accordion.

Are you kidding me? I get to be serenaded by an accordion while i eat my baguette on the banks of the seine while the sun sets and the newly strung lights are glistening on the water?

I think this is why we use the word "climax" in both literature and sex. It's the perfect combination of smells, tastes, feelings, and sights to create a single moment of pleasure that could not be exceeded by any other throughout the experience.  This was my climax.

I finished my sandwich and walked towards the restaurant on the river walk and under the arch. I saw two women in the distance, again in 19th century attire,  washing clothes in the river. Okay, this must be some "History of Poissy Festival" or something. I looked over at one of the islands and next to this swan was a beaver :) This night was just getting more and more interesting. I walked back towards the arch of the bridge and there was a red curtain set up and the title on the sign connected to the curtain read "Le Musee Voyageur" (the travelling museum).  There was a tall guy, somewhere in his mid to late twenties standing next to the tent dressed in an Oliver Twist affair reading over some lines.
I REALLY wanted to know what this was all about so i mustered up the courage to strike up a conversation. His name was Arthur. I told him i was Josh and he said, "Oh, comme Josh Hartnett."
"Um"...i had to think for a while. Oh yeah! the Pearl Harbor guy. "Oui, comme Josh Hartnett.

He explained to me that this was indeed a history of Poissy festival and they were about to start the tour in 15 minutes if i cared to partake. "Yeah!" i thought to myself, "I don't have any friends yet." Haha.
I went to the group of about 30 and took my place. Finally, i wasn't the only tourist :) I felt a little less dumb not being the only one staring without speaking.

We went on a tour of the river walk and the two tour guides were older gentlemen dressed in what i would guess to be a train conductor? I'm not sure. They had a whistle, but what i took notice of the most were the handle bar moustaches. The tour guides handed out sheets of music.
 A journalist stopped them (this was an 19th century journalist) and started to explain impressionism and the history in Poissy. Oh, cool! Claude Monet lived right outside of Poissy and painted many of his masterpieces here! This was getting good.

The man with the accordion played between each set as we walked.

We continued down the river walk and made it to the bridge where they started explaining the history. It was built in 1872 and was the major bridge in Poissy. They showed the marks where the river used to be  and how it has receded over time. Then they handed us all lit lanterns and said this is what we would have to carry in the 19th century if we wanted to see at night. So the group of 30, lanterns in hand, made it down to the river walk and stood right in front of the Restaurant l'Esturgeon, my new home. Then the tour guides went into this incredible story about how the restaurant came to be and that it was one of the oldest in Poissy and certainly the most famous. Claude Monet ate here.....bah bah bah...what?! I wanted to interject and let the crowd know that "Hey! I live here, i live here!" I was smiling with pride :)

I. live. above. a. restaurant. where. Claude. Monet. ate.

*cue the accordion*

Overwhelmed, I brainlessly followed the crowd where we met the two ladies washing clothes.
The ladies were boisterous and so full of life. They explained that that it took 3 days to wash a single load of clothes. They went through the steps. 1. Wet all of the clothes in the Seine 2. Stack the clothes like a pyramid from whites at the top to colors at the bottom and pour hot water down the pile 3.  Beat each one of the clothes with a paddle like tool. 4. Lay them out to dry.  The women explained how they worked so hard and were always out in the sun. Then they went into a really funny comedic routine about how they were looking for men to love them and went throughout the crowd asking menif they were married. I was hoping to god they would steer clear of me. I didn't want the comedy to be at my expense.

*cue the accordion*

After the ladies basically told us to leave them alone because there were no men to love them and only work to do, we went over to the finale-- the curtain where Arthur would be acting. We all gathered around and the tour guides would open the curtain to a character of the city back in the late 1800s-- a market vender, a hat maker, a waiter, a widow, a chef, a rich fat woman.
The accordion stroke up a ballade and we were instructed to take out the sheet of music they had given us and join them in singing "Le Chant Des Poissyards."

Poissy c'est la cite du reve. 
Poissy c'est le bois enchanteur.
Poissy c'est la plaisir sans treve.
Poissy c'est le parfait bonheur.

Allons Chevaliers de la gaule.
La Seine a Poissy vous attend.
Loin des rumeurs sous un grand saule.

English:
Poissy is the city of dreams.
Poissy is the enchanting woods.
Poissy is the pleasure without respite.
Poissy is the perfect happiness.

Go knights of la Gaule.
The Seine at Poissy waits for you.
Far from the rumors under the big willow.


As the crowd of voices echoed through the acoustics of the arch in the bridge and off the river water, i realized that this was, indeed, my welcome party.