When I am in NYC, I wake up in the morning and hurriedly get ready for whatever my first activity is. Some days I am off to my work-study job with America reads and then I head to class while other days it’s the other way around. Two days of the week I spend a full (nine hour) day at my internship. I grab breakfast (a piece of toast, possibly a granola bar?) on my way out the door if I manage to think about it.
Once out the door. Paris seems to be moving at the same leisurely pace. No one is in a hurry and everyone seems to be enjoying their afternoon, while they take up the entire sidewalk. In NYC everyone is in also in a hurry, grabbing a coffee and the morning paper from the nearest stand, scurrying into the subway or waiting (impatiently) for the bus.
In both places, my commute to school is not far. Five minutes door-to-door in Paris and about ten in NYC. I really prefer walking to taking the bus or subway, especially if the weather is pleasant and I don’t have too far to go; however if I am going to work in NYC I usually need to take some form of public transportation as it is further away. In Paris, I have come to learn that if I am going anywhere outside of my own arrondisement I must take the metro and leave 30 minutes of travel time.
I try to find time to do my grocery shopping in NYC about once a week or every other week. I know exactly what I want and which brands I buy. There is always a list involved and it is almost always completed in its entirety. In Paris food shopping is a little more complicated. I try to use a list, but usually can’t manage to find everything on the list in one place. I have no idea what brands are the best here, so I buy whatever is the cheapest. (this is actually a rather nice naivety!) For some reason I find myself in the grocery store much more frequently here: almost everyday, buying one thing or another. Most things here are about the same price as in NYC but because of the awful exchange rate it ends up being a lot more. I really need to stop constantly doing conversions in my head…
Laundry is something I would prefer not to discuss. Let’s leave it at the fact that I did my laundry for the first time today (don’t judge… I still had clean underwear!!) and it was not a pleasant or economical situation. Laundry is always something that I avoid until it’s absolutely necessary, but here it was particularly dreadful.
When I return home at the end of the day, I have completely different experiences. In NYC, I walk up the stairs to my dorm room on the third floor. I have my friends and roommates waiting for me. Sometimes even a special treat in the form of baked goods from the master baker, Whitney. I enjoy my evening and relax for a little while doing whatever homework I have. In Paris I walk up the stairs to my studio apartment on the eighth floor (see post, “Why French Women Don’t Get Fat”) where I live alone; however, there is a great view of the Eiffel Tower from the top of my stairs and always the possibility that it will be sparkling, which inevitably makes even the worst day absolutely perfect.
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