Paris was controlled by seamen....... that's what she said

I had a very enlightening tour of the metro as part of my Paris by Site class. The metro is part of ym everyday life here in Paris, I use it to go everywhere with my little Pass Navigeaux, it is very useful, but everytime I go underground I can't help but get the feeling that I am missing something above ground. However, the metro is a culture in itself and if anyone has ever gone to Starbucks with me in Ann Arbor (Austin) or even walked with me on SOuth U, they can attest to the fact that I love to people watch and the metro is the perfect place to observe and judge and imagine. Although I do not have the wonderful opportunity here to turn to my neighbor and point out everyone I know or think I know or know through Facebook and my (dare I say) impeccable FB stalking abilities like I do when sitting in Starbucks, it is still quite amusing to let my eyes wander and unfortunately keep my observations to myself. I have been told repeatedly to never smile at men or even let my eyes linger for fear that it will appear as an invitation in Paris and it definitely is going to my head. I fear that my demeanor on trains and in the streets by myself is one of an angry bitch (excuse my language). I am just trying to look like I know where I am going and that I am uninterested, but it is almost a game in a sick way. I don't want people to know my story that I am a lost female student unaware of everything so I have to make up for it, but if I work too hard they might suspect something. What is a girl to do? Well nonetheless, my teacher Paul pointed out gorgeous architecture connected to the trains of Art Nouveau Station entries with designs inspired by the world of flora and fauna, in fact I told my Dad and he said Chicago is right now installing such beautiful entrances in their infostructure. To quote my teacher Paul, it is interesting to note that the stations "introduce you to nature as you go into the stomach" of Paris. We walked on a beautiful bridge over the seine that connected two stations. It had columns that resembled tree trunks or even elephant hooves and even the old seamen of Paris on the side lifting the seal. Side not for the Jewish community of annarbor during the war Jews were only allowed to ride in the last car of the metro, funny that was the one I got into right before I heard that factoid. I always like to think about the past, but it is weird to think that I a Jewish student 60 years later decided to go to Paris and study and can be here freely when years ago perhaps someone my age was forced onto that back car and rode along dejectedly thinking about their new place in society, before of course they might have been even farther in cars that were called cattle.
Afterwards (wow quick shift of thought) I had a waffle smothered in nutella by the Bastille, nothing like waffle wednesdays but the nutella made up for it, and I went to a special exhibition of barbie designed by Carl Lagerfeld in the Colette Gallery by the Tuilleries. It was a haute culture fashion store with barbie galleries, besides from the unbelievable clothes with shoes of clear plastic with sequins embedded or skirts with flowing petals there was legit jewlery made out of barbie pieces. A ring with a silver outline of a heart, whose inside was none other than barbie's behind and bracelets pieced together by silver circles with each circle flaunting a barbie eye. ahhhhhh amazingness creativity knows no bounds.