Taking a break from what I call "Boyfriendland: Population 2", Zoé and I went to a house party over in Saint Germain-des-Près to flirt and talk politics with Sciences Po guys. Gross, I'm totally kidding, Sciences Po guys creep me out. We went to a party at her friend's flat to celebrate the news that his English novel is going to be published in French next year and to meet some of her friends that she has known since college, that I've heard so much about.
I don't venture to this neck of the woods as often as I used to, and jumped at the opportunity to leave the Marais to meet new people, kick off the spring season and feel inspired by published writers. I didn't realize until I was leaving the house that this was the first party that I have been to in 2012. I guess this is what happens in your 30's, right? You start to slow down a bit? Perhaps it's a mix of that, the heavy traveling that I have been doing, the lull of winter, "boyfriendland" and last week's insane work schedule that has kept my social life quiet. But missing out on parties doesn't exactly bother me, it never has, especially here. Paris is the only city where going to a party makes me feel anxious and I generally don't seek them out. Paris is also the only city where I have been the foreigner who wants to fit in, so I suppose this makes sense. For me, parties here tend to be hit or miss in regard to the guests, who can either be really friendly and forthcoming where the night ends with a Justice dance party, or really fucking annoying where I feel like I'm trying to renew my visa by a bunch of French teenagers working at the Consulate in hell.
While I have had some incredible nights here that have lived up to what I had imagined my life in Paris would be, I have also had some rather colorful experiences that make me cringe every time I think of them. In the past, I have been asked why the hell I would move to Paris in the bad economy and if I plan to take jobs from French citizens, I've been told that my French sucks by 20 year old boys who have then asked me to read things out loud, like the back of cereal boxes, just so they can laugh at how stupid I sound and my all-time favorite, I have been asked what kind of visa I have and if it is still valid. What the fuck?
In America, if this happened, there would be a Facebook page promoting "sensitivity to foreigners" nevermind the fact that it's a bit rude to ask someone what their legal status in the country is. Am I crazy here? Or am I out of the loop and this is an appropriate conversation sparker? Can you imagine asking a busboy at a diner in Los Angeles about his working papers? It just wouldn't happen, but for some reason in France, this question is on the table the second my little accent slips out. While I certainly have nothing to hide, I just find it a bit abrasive, especially at a party. Perhaps my defensive Mexican side is creeping out and am I'm lashing out on the cliché that we're all illegal immigrants, who knows, but it pisses me off each time. Party conversations should be simple, easy and enjoyable?
Luckily, this night, I had absolutely nothing to worry about as the guests we're effervescent, funny, no one wanted to see my passport and were more interested in having a good time than interrogating me. Now that's called letting the good times roll. The highlight of my evening was looking for a bottle opener in the kitchen, and walking in on one of the sweetest impromptu jam sessions I have ever seen, reminding me why I love this city so much.
The duet goes by the charming name, Les Foies Graves and they perform covers of Parisian songs from the 20s and 30s. Listening to them made me feel like I had gone back in time to Paris, during a simpler time. And perhaps I did, with the stellar company, the spring air breezing through the open window, the budding magnolia tree blooming in the building courtyard, and the crémant running through my veins, it was a simpler time. It really is moments like these that make getting beat up a bit worth it. I'll definitely be renewing my visa this year...Paris, tu me rends folle!
For more info on Les Foies Graves, check out their Facebook page.And while you're at it...give them a like!