#Hype'd

C’est Paris!

A couple weekends ago I dropped a small fortune to hop aboard le TGV and run off to Paris to visit the wonderful Jen Self. Jen’s an awesome camp friend I’ve know for a few years, shes a sweetheart who is far too kind to me. My favourite thing to do with her is naturally to embarrass her by acting awkward/dorky around her. She’s brave enough to travel to Europe for school (Edinburgh before Pairs…) yet is legitimately scared of the dark and needs a night in shining armor (me #obviously) to escort her.

I’ve actually been to Paris once before in the summer of 2007 when my Dad, sister, and I spent a week in the city. Check the fbook album from it. It was an earlier contribution in my Facebook career, but its too good as I was so much funnier/obnoxious/cooler when I was younger. Now I’m old and dull and resort to blogging to entertain myself. “What a loser!” -2007 Quinlan. “Yo whatever, you’re scrony, wear Abercrombie, don’t have a smartphone and still have grade 12 IB ahead of you #gross” -Contemporary Quinlan “Yo wtf is a #??” -2007 Quinlan

Anyways I should prob talk about Paris eh? Well it was amazing, a spectacular weekend on all accounts. We went out eeeeeerynight. Thursday was interesting. Jen’s roommate Julie, Jen and I managed to get in to a club that normally requires patrons to purchase a 300 Euro membership just to enter the place. Jen said that she had applied for one and the owner somehow believed that was means enough to allow entry #asif. Well, we walked down 3 flights of dimly lit stairs to this weird/hipster/alternative/posh/pretentious club. Julie bought us a round of drinks, each costing 18 euros #nbd. It was totally worth going here as I finally was able to answer the question of “what music does a 300 euro membership club play?” The answer: Motown #obviously. This place, although cool to experience once, is totally against everything I believe in and I can’t even handle it.

Friday was a #fierce roller coaster. Jen’s lovely friend Ruba and I were brave enough to enter a Parisian Gay Bar (WOAH!). Though, not without difficulty: once we finally found a place that allowed girls in, which I’m 30% opposed to, they of course questioned my sexuality. Sorry buddy, I forgot my hot pink tights and silk scarf in Grenoble… See in Paris only Gay Men can enter some bars #effectivediscrimination. Oh sweet, a little Fleetwood Mac just came on from my playlist #GoYourOwnWay. Anyway we got in and I STAYED OUT IN PARIS TILL 7:45 AM IN THE MORNING!!!! This night could be a full blog entry on its own. The night: made good use of my dancing shoes, made friends, coatcheck disaster!, lost in the streets of Paris at 6am sans coat, get coat, get lost again finding Jen’s place #naturally, figure my life out, arrive beaten and bruised #notactually but with a winning attitude!!!

Saturday night was #myjam. It was too much fun. And like this time I only stayed out till 5am so c’est bien non? Ruba, Milad (another super fun friend of Jen’s) and I went to Scream, self proclaimed as France’s “biggest gay party”. You had to wait through three separate lines to even get into the bloody place! Thank god we showed up early. The place was simply wild. And an apparent dress code of shirtless was definitely in effect #notcomplaining. #sidenote: I’ve noticed that the way people dance in this country is quite different from North America. It’s more intimate with the music and there is thankfully no concept of 1-2 step here #Ishouldlivehere. So it’s really cool going out and seeing how people dance, people watching is way better in Europe. Anyway, Scream was surreal and its easily been one of the best nights thus far. #bigfan

Reading is gross, Now on to the goodstuff! Yay Photos!!!

Jen and I at Work Camp 2010, I was stressed because my snakeskin leather jacket outfit was missing something clutch, thankfully Jen was kind enough to donate her elegant silk scarf #phew!

Jen and I in Paris 2012. Jen happens to go to the best cooking school in the world #mmmmmm. It was the natural transition from her undergrad degree in mathematics #wiferesume… (her description, not mine!).

We went to this delectable restaurant where you walk in, sit down, and are served two helpings of Steak et Frites covered in this unbelievably tasty green sauce #vegetariansnotwelcome. This place is so forward thinking that they only hire middle aged women as servers and kindly give them a uniform straight outta the 1800s #seeabove. Though I totally don’t see it as offensive and sexist but rather cultural and adorable #politicalcorrectnessfail.

This guy hit me with his damn Vespa while I was in the process of posing for a cherished photo!!! #jerk Btw this is that steak restaurant.

The architecture in Paris is so hipster and alternative that they cap ceilings at 5 feet.

Jen, I’ll say this only once, but you’re cuter than me.

Definition of a french breakfast: Cappuccino, Orange Juice, heaps of Bread, and a variety of spreads including white chocolate #whatacountry.

DAL COMM CAMEO APPEARANCE FEATURING LAURA MILLS!!! How cool is it that all my friends are on exchange?!? Laura is currently studying/partying with Chileans in Rouen.

Le Cordon Bleu’s uniform, fun stuff eh?

I totally got to sit in and watch a 3 hour cooking demo with Jen and her peers. The chef put me on the spot in front of everyone by asking me a question en français, which I of course misunderstood and provided an irrelevant answer en broken français. He then made fun of me in French, the class laughs and Jen goes bright red. He later asked if I was Jen’s “petit ami” where I use my go-to “it’s not her it’s me” line…

Of the dishes the Chef made, one was this plate of Lamb. Jen cooked a full rack of lamb the next day and I ate the entire thing. It was honestly the best piece of meat I’ve ever had and huge props to Jen. She has quite the green thumb. #wrongphrase #idiot