Mama Mia!

Last night, Mirko and Allesandro (I have no clue how to spell his name) invited me and Julie (another new girl at IEA), over for dinner.

First of all, their apartment is tres chic! Only 30 square meters (roughly 320 square feet - slightly larger than average for a Parisian studio/1 bedroom), but decorated out of a magazine complete with Phillipe Starck chairs, a shower redone with fancy rocks at the bottom, candles blazing, and more. It was the epitome of Parisian/Italian sophistication.

Then there was the food, and the presentation of the food! First, we started with perfectly chilled champagne. Then, the appetizer. Shrimp and amazing cocktail sauce that you eat off these little spoons, and of course, baskets of French bread. Then, the main dish. I don't remember the name of it, but it was penne pasta with zucchini, bechamel sauce, and parmesan, baked until it was crisp at the top. Soooooo good. THEN, dessert. This warm nut cake (apparently very popular from the region of Italy where Allesdandro is from) with an orange-flavored creme that was to die for. Finally, Lemoncello. After all that food, 3-4 glasses of champagne, and Lemoncillo, I felt slightly sick and more than slightly drunk, but it was so worth it! I slept very well last night.

Best part is that Allesandro made everything himself. Good looking, well dressed, great job, a good cook, and wonderful host - Mirko is a lucky boy!

After all this talk of eating, I know what you are all thinking, and yes, my pants still fit!! I actually did two exercise classes at work this week. Tuesday was STEP and yesterday was Gliding. I've never done Gliding before, and I thought it would be easy, but OUCH. I am so sore!!! I forced Mirko to join the class, and we spent the whole class looking at each other in pain as the middle-aged and older women just glided away! Note that the class was made up of mostly Brits, as Europeans rarely exercise.

Oh! And this week's observation. After talking to people, observing, and experiencing, I have come to the conclusion that there is a very important reason that French women look bi-otchy all the time. Their permanent frowns, constant eye-rolling, and condescending stares keep the obnoxious French men away. The men love to prey on smiling, open-faced American tourists - easy targets. However, they've given up on the French women. So, being Parisian now, I have adopted the cold and calloused look as I walk down the street, and voila! I am now a French men repeller!

Almost time for the weekend. Keep your fingers crossed that I find an apartment.