Bosser - v; to work

Most of you know by now that I found a job at the last minute.  I currently make 8 euros an hour tapping Guiness and hawking haggis at a Scottish pub in the Marais.  My coworkers are cool and the regulars are a mix of older Englishmen, Americans, and Frenchmen who speak perfect English.  It's a good job with good people. 

What I put off doing, because French bureaucracy is the stuff of nightmares, was extending my visa.  The first hurdle to getting this over with was figuring out which of the multitudinous civil service offices I needed to visit.  Return to OFII Office where they make you strip and then throw you against a wall for a chest x-ray? Try the exchange student office that is almost outside the city, on one of the biggest prostitution streets in Paris? How about the Préfecture de Police, the same place they take you in for questioning, drunkenness, and garde à vue? Any one of these also undoubtedly meant long waits and return visits, so perhaps you can understand my putting it off. 

Yesterday I finally gathered up every possible piece of paper I could need and set off for OFII and see what was up, but the métro broke down (yay ligne 4!) on Ile de la Cité.  An alarm was going off periodically and I was getting claustrophobic in the subterranean tuna can when it hit me - the Préfecture de Police is at Cité. Why not? So I hopped out and went into the vast complex to see what could be done for me.

In the Europe-Proche Orient-Amerique room I was given a piece of paper with a lot of very small print which the lady was kind enough to highlight for me, as well as mark things 1 and 2 and scrawl "ETR" and "EDF" on. Basically, I was supposed to start this process a month and a half ago.  What I'm supposed to do is call a number, give them my numéro étranger (ETR) get an appointment at some offshoot of the Préfecture (bureaucracy = hydra), bring a letter from Joëlle and an electricity bill (EDF) to prove I'm not homeless and then...I don't know, pray? No, that would be a very American thing to do.

I'll keep you posted.

Musée d'art moderne

 

Now that classes are over, most JYA-ers are crossing the final items off their Paris bucket lists and packing up their souvenirs.  One of the last stops for my friend Hazel was the Musée d'Art Moderne (11 avenue du Président Wilson, 16e).

 

The museum's permanent collection, which is free (woohoo!), includes numerous Cubist pieces by Braques and Picasso, Fauvist oeuvres by Matisse, and some rooms of Dada/Surrealist flights of fancy.  Some videographic works by Asian artists are on show in the basement.  My personal favorite was the Salle Dufy, where a huge mural (above) depicting great scientists and inventors (French and otherwise) covers the walls.  

The Palais de Tokyo is a luminous if somewhat sterile structure that was built for the International Exhibition of Arts and Technology of 1937.  The museum is situated in the eastern wing, while the western wing hosts an atelier for young artists in residence.

For a while the works on display were modern pieces that spilled over from the collection of the very full Petit Palais.  But with the accumulation of many pieces during the 1937 exhibition, including this baller neo-classical-meets-art-deco sideboard, the museum was given the green light and inaugurated as a distinct musée de la ville de Paris. 

Alors on danse...

Sorry for the little rant earlier, y'all, but I couldn't name my blog after fireworks if I didn't go off from time to time, now could I? Here's a kickass music video (I just learned how to embed videos, can you tell?) and a list of my favorite dancing establishments in the City of Light to make up for it. 

Corcoran's (23, Blvd Poissonière, 2e) is my mainstay.  It's technically a "pub" which means it falls into a legal gray area between bar and nightclub.  This devilish limbo means that it keeps Rihanna's entire catalogue pumping all night - yay first metro! - but never charges cover.  It's a great warm up for Rex, or a nice place to have a beer and people-watch on weeknights. Depending on the night, there's usually a pretty good mix of students and young professionals loosening their ties. 

Slightly more bling bling than Corcoran's,  Le Rex Club (5, Blvd Poissonière, 2e) is attached to Le Grand Rex, an old, recently restored cinema just up the street from Corcoran's.  Thursday is free, the rest of the time it's 10 - 15 euros.  Save a bit by booking online. I've only been disappointed by their choice of dj once, but don't go if you don't like electro.  Groovy light show.  Don't even think about getting a drink unless you've recently won the lottery.  Crowd ranges in age from Who let you in? to I think I have a class with your son.

I might have a skewed perspective on this place from the night the Youngunz played and we were served birthday cake from the stage.  Generally killer djs, drinks are slightly less unreasonable than Rex, though coat/bag check is mandatory and covers are equally unkind (again, except on Thursday).  Still, I love it here. Apparently the club has recently been redecorated.  I don't know what it looked like before, but it's pretty chill atmosphere.  Highly recommended. Le Social Club (142, rue Montmartre, 2e)

Ah, what to say about the Batofar (14, quai François Mauriac, 13e)? It's out of the way (far out in the east, in the Seine).  It's big and red and rusty and not terribly well ventilated.  Still, if you like straight up trance and house, this might be your best bet.  You could consider not showering for a few days to fit in better with the regulars.  Do I need to tell you that there are rarely any girls here? It's pretty safe but, uh, just say no to drugs.

While Batofar is drawing in all the counter culture for miles (kilometers?) around, MixClub (rue de l'Arrivée, 15e) is down by Montparnasse acting as Eurotrash Mecca.  With a similar repertoire to Corcorans and an Erasmus (international students') night that brings in enough people to fill all three stories, it is a cultural wasteland where you can do the macarena without shame. They have a GLBT friendly evening, but my gay friends have been able to find dance partners even on more "mainstream" nights.  Shots are a pretty good deal.

Okay, I got sucked into Showcase (Port des Champs Elysées, 8e) because 1) It's under the sumptuous Pont Alexandre III (a gift from the Russian tzar, yay gilded sculptures!) and 2) If you put your name on the website's guestlist and show up around 12:30, it's free.  I adore free, but, truth is, the music is always the same undanceable sludge and most of the clientele are poseurs there to be seen.  Go once (provided you remembered to put your name on the guestlist) to admire the architecture, and scope out the well-dressed 20-somethings getting botttle service, then catch the last metro home or to somewhere that isn't trying so hard.


La Miroiterie (88, rue de Ménilmontant, 20e) is performance space in a former (abandoned?) mirror factory. I'm not 100% clear on the legal standing of this establishment, but I know this much: the concerts are semi-impromptu, the music is loud, the beer is cheap and the patrons make the gutter punks outside the Batofar look like fairy princesses. After you pay the cover charge, be sure to ask what the symbol they draw on your hand means lest you wind up with a symbole anti flic on your wrist like my friend Kevin. Then mosh like you've got braincells to burn.

This former lesbian bar in Pigalle is a hipster's dream.  The neighborhood is seedy and the teeny tiny bar is cramped, hot, and somewhat unknown.  Go now so you can say you knew about it before it was "ruined by tourists." Sidenote: when I was there we ran into the rapper Teki.  Shockingly expensive drinks for the amount of flannel in this cellar, but again, rad dj's. Chez Moune (54 rue Pigalle, 9e).

I will always have a soft spot for Nouveau Casino (109, rue Oberkampf, 11e) because of its location on rue Oberkampf, right across from where I stayed the first time I ever came to Paris.  My memories of that fateful summer are punctuated with nights spent carousing at Charbon, the attached brasserie.  The first time I ever made it inside the Casino was with le Chef and Pomegrenade.  The latter promptly ditched us for a charming man.  They're moving in together this summer.  Where does the time go? Anyway, this is a nice club with fairly hip young crowd on a street of awesome bars and restaurants. Some pretty well-known acts swing by from time to time, too. What's not to love? 

Boogie on down.