Favorite story from French class on Saturday: our professor had just explained what a chauffard (reckless driver) when another student asked if the feminine would be chauffarde? Our professor said yes, but you'd never say that. The student and the professor went back and forth about it again, and the professor said "Well, I mean, women are much better drivers than men - so you'd never use chauffarde." When we all started snickering, I had to explain that the American stereotype is that women can't drive. Frenchie said, 'Women are better drivers, in fact - in France, they have lower insurance rates." Of course, that is the same thing on this side of the pond. Because my best friend is Asian, I made sure to point out that the biggest driving stereotype is that Asian women can't drive. Who loves ya, Paticus?
So. How was the class? H.a.r.d. My processing of input was much more successful than my manufacturing of output. But, it's good for me - hopefully, I'll be back up to speed shortly. We are learning all kinds of idioms, and how to say things the vrai (true/real) French way, as opposed to the "French is my 2nd language" way. Kinda awesome.
After class, Misty and I went to the Marina! Imagine my surprise while taking in the sights on Chestnut St. - a Pita Pit? Wha?? In college, I lived one block away from the Pita Pit in my tiny, Canadian university town. From the PP website, that was the FIRST Pita Pit location, and now it is a franchise! For nostalgia's sake, I had to grab a pita. Not up to Kingston standards, I'm sorry to say.
After some dallying, it was time to hit the books! I went to Tartine in the Mission with images of their heavenly bread pudding dancing in my head. Helas, it was not to be - I had to make do with some divine chocolate pudding. Tartine closed at 8 pm, which I found so odd. San Francisco sets its curlers and turns in earlier than most cities.
It didn't really matter, I had plans to meet Roop, SJM, etc. etc. at the MatrixFillmore for P. Escobar's birthday. What a great space! A fireplace, great lighting, "interesting" drinks, lounge-style seating, an abnormally tall guy on the door. It became a little too crowded as the evening continued, and when I left the little area we had taken over, the crowd smacked of "I think I'm too hot to talk to you." Um, whatever. But when you bring the party with you, that doesn't really affect you. In short, I rolled into bed at 3:30 am.
Let's repeat that: 3:30 am. This is especially important since my first soccer game was scheduled for the next morning at 9 am. Which means being up and at'em at 8 am at the latest. I didn't set an alarm and I was up at 7:45 am. I have such a rockstar internal clock sometimes. Bleary-eyed, I checked my Blackberry - my player card wasn't ready, so I wouldn't be allowed to play. Thanggod - I curled up on the couch for Round 2 in the Land of Nod.
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3 comments:
Rockstar weekend, if you ask me. And uh, mad love for Pita Pit here - Syracuse is close enough to Canada to be blessed with one. Yummy yummy.
For the record, Tartine technically started as a bakery, not restaurant, and that is why they close their doors early. Bar Tartine on Valencia is open much later, although it doesn't have the cafe setting. You're right though... San Francisco does shut down early- which is why I lurves it, of course. ;)
brimful: I feel that Tartine has morphed from bakery to coffee shop (as is evidenced by their "so you're only getting coffee" line, etc.) - and then 8 pm on a Saturday is pretty durn early. :)
Roonie: Mmmm, Pita Pit. I can't tell you how many pitas I've eaten walking to class.
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