In the words of my personal hero, Edina Monsoon, from the memorable "France" episode, "I. Hate. Frahnce!" Paris has closed down, apart from the discount hat vendors, but more importantly the only metro line that goes to where I'm staying is off-duty. After a long wait on a platform where there were, reassuringly, many seeming locals as confused as I was and, less reassuringly, about as many mosquitoes, I learned that we all needed to find another itineraire. This was unfortunate because I was all set to go see a classmate perform in a burlesque show, and because I had to cancel on the friend I was going with, and because I'd finally figured out what to do with eyebrow pencil, and because my bangs, for reasons I'm just assuming relate to humidity differences in Paris versus NY, looked perfect. The slight silver lining to all of this is that I apparently understand subway announcements better, word-for-word, in French than in English. Although this might be for other reasons.