Petite Treasure No. 2

During an errand run today, I spotted another “petite treasure.” This petite treasure is special because it reminded me of the summer of 2007. That was the summer I decided I would not deal with the “what do I do with my hair” issue, and I marched into Mason's Barber Shop and demanded a precision haircut. After verifying I, indeed, wanted to be rid of “all that hair,” the courageous barber began the task of cutting.


If you have ever seen the film, “Barbershop,” then you have a fairly accurate representation of the ambiance of Mason's. There were a couple of regulars there, and they were engaged in cheerful bantering back and forth with the other barbers in the shop. The television was on, and the topic of said bantering was sports, of course!!

The latest arrival to the conversation entered the shop, and along with the haircut, he also had a shave. This was not your shave with a disposable razor. This was a real shave which entailed the lathering of the client's face with the brush and the use of a straight edge razor. Those types of shaves require skills!!!

So, it was pure delight to stumble upon the following shop. Although closed for lunch, it's nice to know there is a place to go to obtain the tools of the close shave trade.

I present to you my Petite Treasure No. 2, for those of you who engage in the fine art of the precision shave:

Some Things Never Change!

Some of you will probably wholeheartedly agree with the title of this little blog, while others may choose to vehemently disagree. Before you “weigh in” on either side, consider the facts I present to you:

Fact Number One. I am a legal resident of Washington, D.C., United States of America

Fact Number Two: I am a Temporary Tourist/Student Resident of Nice, France

Fact Number Three: Washington, D.C. And Nice, France are popular tourist destinations.

Are you with me so far? Are we all in agreement with the facts as presented above?

The “evidence” supporting my statement is as follows:

Evidential Argument No. 1: Said author of this blog, henceforth to be known as “Elizabeth,” has heretofore and currently is legally domiciled in the area known as Washington, D.C. Said area known as Washington, D.C., is neither a city nor a state, but a District. Said District is a popular tourist destination. Elizabeth, author of this blog, being a legal resident of the area heretofore identified as the District, but which shall hereafter be referred to as “D.C.,” has been, upon occasions too numerous to count and while being in the company of self, friends, families, and general passers-by, specifically called upon to provide directions to various locations within the area known as the District (hereinafter referred to as “D.C.”); to provide the current time to the general public; has been called upon to recite bus and subway schedules upon being asked; has provided on the spot instruction on how to ride the subway system in the area known as the District (i.e., D.C.); has been required to function in the role of “human” GPS mechanism to provide directions to points beyond said District (hereinafter to be referred to as “D.C.” (I promise) and points of interest in the immediate vicinity thereof; and has functioned as impromptu tour guide and keeper and reciter of historical knowledge deemed of interest by persons identified as “extremely temporary residents,” (hereinafter referred to as “Tourists”).

Evidential Argument No. 2.: Said author of this blog, hereinafter to be referred to as “Elizabeth,” on 5 September 2010, became a Temporary Tourist/Student Resident of Nice, France.

Evidential Argument No. 3.: Said author of this blog, Elizabeth (hereinafter to be referred to as “Temporary Tourist/Student Resident of Nice, France”), upon arrival in the popular tourist destination known as Nice, France (hereinafter to be referred to as “Nice, France”) has been, upon occasions too numerous to count while being in the company of self, called upon to provide the current time, to respond to queries regarding the schedule of Bus Route No. 22 or to provide the status of buses during days of strikes, and to provide directions as requested.

Conclusion: Perhaps some things never change.

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Petite Treasure

Taking the bus home from school the other day, it was such a lovely afternoon, I decided to hop off the bus and walk through the neighborhood. During my walk, I spotted an interesting “treasure:” A wonderful trompe l'oeil mural to delight the eye!

The pencil at the top right corner “tells” the viewer the work is “in progress.”

I wonder when will the "artist" complete its master piece.

Would you like to know more? Stay tuned, Same Bat Time, Same Bat Channel

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Passage de l'Avenir

Madame G and I had a lively chat during the ride from the airport to my new home for the current academic year. The scenery during that rather brief ride was that of a typical warm and sunny Sunday afternoon. People were strolling with friends, and they seemed to be enjoying the lovely day as much as I was. Concerned about where I would find something to eat later, I asked where does one go that would be open and not too expensive. Madame G responded there are few establishments open on Sunday, but I should be able to find something. In fact, she took an extra turn around the block in order to show me a bakery which is only steps away from the apartment.

I had a lovely welcoming to my new home. My faculty advisor and her husband were there and Madame G's husband was there too. We all climbed the stairs to the top floor, which would be the Third Floor in the United States, but somehow is the Second Floor here in France. We all entered, and I was given a tour of home.

Home is a small studio. It has an interesting tiled floor and an equally interesting wooden ceiling. In terms of dimensions, I would say it is about the size of a small master bedroom, and that is including the petite kitchen!! There are two windows with shutters that provide a wonderful view of the apartments of my neighbors. The bathroom is equally interesting. It has a tiny skylight which provides lovely light, and it is tiled also. There is a petite shower which provides great incentive for me to lose weight!! (Don't Drop the Soap!!!)

There is a petite laundry machine manufactured by someone called Candy, and a petite refrigerator which Candy has also fashioned. (Fortunately, my adviser had kindly put a few lovely things for me to eat in said petite refrigerator.) To dry my laundry, I hang out of the window like my neighbors and with clothespins, I secure my freshly washed clothing.

I have a tiled square table near one of the windows which I use mainly as my desk. There is a built in bookcase which houses the petite television, a lamp, and the few books I lugged along in the heaviest carry on bags I could manage.

I am only a few short blocks from the famous Promenade des Anglais, and there are many shopkeepers and shops which are yet to be explored . .

Would you like to know more? Stay tuned Same Bat Time, Same Bat Channel

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Identity

For the majority of my tender years, I was simply introduced as “Amelia's daughter,” or called “daughter.” It wasn't until I entered the public school system that I understood the name, Elizabeth, applied to me.

During my 20s, I became known as Wife of, or The Wife, and I acquired the title “Mrs.” before my understood name of “Elizabeth.” I also received a new last name.

At the dawn of the decade of my 30s, I became a “She Who Must Be Obeyed” and I joined the elite club to which my mother belonged, to which my grandmother belonged. My budding linguist, however, shortened my new title to “MOM!!” or “MAMA!!.” Others simply referred to me as Only One Son's Mom or Mother of Only One Son.

The end of the decade of the 30s, I became identified as a “Divorcee,” which I still find strange, since I commenced the proceedings. Why was I not given the title “The Divorcer?”

During the decade of the 40s, I was addressed as Madame Court Reporter, lest I forget why I am sitting in a room with total strangers dutifully memorializing every word being said.

A new decade has commenced, and with it, a new identity. I am currently a full time undergrad student and Tourist-Temporary Resident of Nice, France. I must confess I am curious to learn my new title (smiles).

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Touchdown!!!

And a smooth landing it was!! Gathering the heaviest carry-on baggage I could manage, I began the trek to the baggage retrieval area. Positive I would be reunited with my luggage, I daringly spent 1 Euro on a baggage carrier on wheels!!! I then joined my flying companions at the designated station. Lo and behold, my luggage was the first to make an appearance, and everything appeared to be intact!

I then made my way to the arrival area. I was informed prior to my departure I would be met at the airport by Madame “G.” As I drew closer to the area where there were others waiting and holding signs with various passenger names, I noticed there wasn't a female amongst them. Thinking perhaps there was a change in plan, I carefully scanned the colorful signs being held by the various representatives. My name wasn't there!!!

I thought “Maybe I can't see her because of all the tall fellows holding signs.” So, I did a careful re-scan of the area, and I still didn't see my name!! Then I thought “Maybe I should go back to the doorway and re-enter.” By doing so, I noticed a lovely petite lady holding a sign that simply said “Maryland.” I introduced myself, and it turned out she was, indeed, sent to meet me!!

With a sigh of relief, we exited the airport and made our way to the parking lot. While Madame G was placing the baggage carrier in its designated return area, I took a moment to observe my surroundings. Nice was sunny and hot, just like Miami!! The buildings which were visible reminded me of the architecture in Miami!! There was a slight difference, though.

Instead of being spoken to in Spanish, I was now being spoken to in French!!

Would you like to know more? Tune in Same Bat Time, Same Bat Channel

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Destination: Nice

To be perfectly honest, I don't remember much at all about the flight from Zurich to Nice. I remember the layover. The landing was uneventful, and maneuvering with the heaviest carry on bags I thought I could manage was becoming less onerous. Having a couple of hours until my flight departed and refreshed from the night's sleep, I thought taking a walk around the terminal would be energizing (along with a cup of coffee).

I found it interesting the first “fast food” chain I happened to lay eyes on was Burger King!! There are not so many Burger Kings in the Washington, D.C. Area. The chain is more visible in Miami, which I believe is the home of its corporate offices. There were the usual luxury item boutiques, but I didn't explore them mainly because of the baggage I was carrying.

I soon spotted a currency exchange counter, and once again, I attempted to withdraw funds. This time, there was a real person, but the result was a repeat of the encounter I had with the polite ATM machine: Transaction Denied!!! It was at this point that my anxiety level was raised to the level of total alarm. I had no problems using my card just prior to departing Miami. I had informed the bank (who confirmed my status) prior to my departure to ensure there would be no misunderstandings. Yet, once again, I received the message “Transaction Denied,” but at least the clerk was kind.

Determined to remain calm (along with the knowledge I was unlikely to reach a person at said bank on a Sunday morning/Saturday night), I resorted to the past time of people watching. Curious to know how Europeans dress, I found a nice spot to people watch. Khaki colored trousers that zip off at the knee to convert to knee-length shorts seemed to be quite popular with both sexes. A few fashionably casually dressed businessmen types strolled by. The majority of the ladies were dressed with comfort in mind, but there was the occasional fashionista teetering by on high heels.

It wasn't long before the announcement came that my flight was ready to board . . .

Would you like to know more? Stay tuned … Same Bat Time... Same Bat channel.

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