Last night I went out to a bar called Planète Mars with Laura, Josh, Katie, and Gabi. We randomly met two of Josh’s friends who are art dealers. (Josh lived in Paris three years ago and is back until the end of this month. He attends our seminar.) Josh kept trying to persuade me and Laura to drink more and stay out until after the Metro stopped running. Even though it’s very difficult to convince me and Laura to continue drinking, somehow he managed to do so. The three of us stopped for a sandwich at this place where the two proprietors knew an awful lot about the recent elections in the U.S. After we ate, Josh got on the night bus and Laura started trying to hail a cab. This woman who was standing on the corner making no effort to flag down a cab got all pissed at us and said (in French) “I was ahead of you.” And we were like, “OK. Whatever.”

Today I had a phone call from my advisor (codename: The Belgian Waffle). He is locked out of his Northwestern email account because he didn't change his password in a timely fashion, so he hasn’t received any of the three emails I have sent him in the past month. It is a very good thing that I looked up his number in the “pages blanches” and left him a message yesterday. He asked me how I was liking Paris and he invited me to have lunch with him in a couple of weeks. He started out trying to think of places that would allow us to meet in the middle, but he clearly did not want to sacrifice cultural capital for geographical convenience. I told him that it would be really nice for me to discover a new part of Paris and that I would be happy to take the Metro to Oberkampf. He seemed really relieved that he wouldn’t have to slum it with me in the Latin Quarter. Seriously, it sounded like he wouldn’t want be caught dead there.

I told him I’m working on grant applications, and the ACLS deadline is coming up. He offered to read my proposal, even though it really all depends who is on the selection committee, and did I know who was on the selection committee? Because that’s really what matters. And he applied for one external grant and didn’t get it, but then he applied for an internal grant and got that one. And then he asked me if I was in touch with his other advisee, and could I send him the other advisee’s email address if I have it, or email the other advisee and ask him to get in touch with the Belgian Waffle?

He also advised me not to try to bring pot back from Amsterdam, which may be the single best piece of advice he has ever given me. Because I was totally planning to transport marijuana in a train across two international borders. Then he said, “If you must have it, you would be better off trying to send it through the mail.” A fountain of wisdom, this man.