RABBIT RECIPE

Take Gaia to the marché at Versailles.
Buy 2kg of rabbit, six onions, some leek.
At home, have couscous, lemon, thyme, laurel leaves and white wine. Give the leek to Gaia, so she can take it home, cut them and gratinate them with oil and parmesan and put them in the oven.
Fry the onions, the laurel and the thyme in plenty of oil.
Take out the onions and thyme and laurel, and fry the chunks of rabbit to a nice brown in the oil you used.
Put it all together, add three-to four glasses of wine, a little water if necessary (you don't need to cover the rabbit pieces) and put a cover on. Let the stew simmer for an hour and fifteen minutes, maybe a little more. Turn around the pieces around once, so that each piece will be cooked evenly.
Make the couscous, add a little bit of lemon and maybe butter.
Serve it all together with too much wine, and enjoy.

yo y el chileno

Yesterday i was walking to the metrostop from class with a Chilean guy.
We discussed the professor of the class. Gonzalo, having graduated already as a psychologist, told me that our professor had all the symptoms of compulsive obsessive behaviour, in a bad way. He laid down the symptoms for me. I told him that i thought the professor had a serious problem with structuring time for the classes - when he realises that a presentation by a student is too long, he feels like he loses control. And like some people, who are unable to deal with such a situation, he grabs at anything, snapping at the students, cutting the expose halfway, asking if they really needed the laptop notes to give their presentation, etc. I also told him how i thought he had a crush on one of the girls from class, in a creepy kind of way. We had a good laugh at the expense of our compulsive- obsessive professor.
Yeah, you got it. he was walking behind us, and wished us bonne soirée at the metro stop turn. He better not undersand spanish.

trying new things. ugh.

so i finally gave up and gave in. i did sports. to my defence - i found something that was interesting that happened to be sports.
Escrime class (fencing [swordfighting if you still didnt get it]) was maybe a little gay. Last sport i tried (like three years ago) was boxing, so.. half were girls, and half of the guys had glasses. So i suppose i fit right in. I don't have any gympants(???) so i went there in jeans. Not having done sports for three years had its price. Even though fencing is minimally physical, i limp on my right leg, painfully. But, i found the technical side of it interesting, even though the prognostic is not very good, since i've never been talented at a single sport i've done (and they are so many :D )
On the culinary side, a comment: for breakfast i had pasta frutti di mare (frutti di mare assortment, white wine, onions, echalotte, garlic, pesto and lemon) and for dinner rabbit kidney couscous (kidneys, cream, echalotte... and some rabbit stew). livin the dream baby.

PUTTING SOME MILEAGE ON THE METER 2

...FRIDAY

Friday evolved in that orderly fashion it always does.
At the end were too lazy to go out anywhere. Mum made us a collection of charcuterie and wine and cheeses. Since we weren't going anywhere, we did our best to invite too many people over to our house. Everybody was slighlty surprised when among other guests, i introduced my mother to them. But no worries, she blended right in and it was a blast. Its always the same thing - im too chickenshit to have the parties last all night through, even though the best fun is definitely here. I soaked my guts and brain in gin & tonics.
We went to - now our-local-hangouts - hideout and the violon dingue. We babbled with all the same people as last night (they, sadly, were there too on friday, like us!). We were forced out of the bar when it closed - some silly excuse of the barfight outside with people hitting each other with chairs and pints and extras driving in with cars.
On the way from hideout to violon dingue, heidi found love, or love found heidi, and she had trouble keeping up with the group. Violon dingue didn't want to let us in, in spite of my very compelling argumentation. Neither did the next bar. We finally found some lousy irish bar to spend the rest of the nightly hours and catch the first metros.

SATURDAY

was a testing day. My body was already taking severe casualties, and waking up at eleven to visit our french relatives with mum, didnt help all that much.
But, our french relatives came to get us by car - Claude (my mom's uncle) and her wife, Marie. We went to our grandgrandmother's grave to put down some flowers and headed to their place, where we had some of the best paté, dry sausage, and meat i've ever had. Simple yet sooooo good. We also went to visit my mother's cousin David a little bit further away, and he seemed like a really nice guy. The only cousin i remember well is the one that lived in the U.S. with us for a while - rodolphe, but there had been a fallout between them.
It was already night when we took the trainback to paris, and at home i joined laura and eeva again. We headed to the Cité Universitaire - an incredible campus area for students to live, which is a huge park ten minutes out of the center of Paris. I'm definitely moving there if i dont find a flatmate for this place. We waited in line - there were too many people. I got in, in one group, and laura was up next. She overheard the bouncers talking :' ugh, that guy barely got in, we're gonna keep an eye on him'. Laura asked: 'which guy?', answer: 'The short one' (a.k.a. niklas).
Just as outside, the inside had too many people, which resulted in a stampeed to the bar, the bouncers stopping the selling of alcohol, one of the bouncers almost starting a fight in the middle of the concert-like-density of the crowd, me almost getting my ass kicked when i told them not to fight because it would have disastrous results, me going to ask for my money back for my drinking tickets, and almost getting my ass kicked again when they refused and i incited everybody else to insist on getting their money back for the tickets. Go me.
The evening evened out when the crowd dissipated and Eeva found love. And actually, i think i've never seen so much love in one place. Erasmus students...
We made it home - again with the first metros, just barely avoiding two afterparties.

SUNDAY

By this time i felt like a shipwreck, and was almost relieved that the girls were leaving.
We managed to make an honest policereport on laura's stolen camera from last night, before they had to leave for the airport - on the same flight with mum. Finnish goodbyes were exchanged, although laura had promised to get emotional.
Thank you for visiting, i had an awesome time - laura, eeva ja suvi!!! oli kiva nähdä!!

Niklas

PUTTING SOME MILEAGE ON THE METER -1

Oh how to account for the madness that have been the last five days.

WEDNESDAY
Wednesday started slowly, by the time we had managed to cook our three course dinner, it was already around nine o’clock. The dinner: first, fried aubergine slices with mozzarella and basilica on top. As a side dish, we had bread and different cheeses. Main dish: couscous, with a light lemon/cream sauce, and an honest steak. And a little bit of wine maybe.
The girls wanted to go out for a cigarette before we were to leave for the bar (we were already an hour late from our rendez vous). So we went out, but the keys thought it was too cold, and decided to stay behind. So, as we contemplated, with my o’-so-dear-friend, la guardienne, how the hell we would get back into my apartment, I learned that a locksmith in France costs around 300-500e. This is when I decided to call my landlord, who had a spare key, and came to bring it to us, at nine o’clock, from about an hours distance. Fortunately the bar next to us provided with a modicum of warmth, and some nice rosé. Needless to say (but said here anyway) mr. Lambert was very happy to assist his idiotic tenants. Or just actually one idiot, me. Julia was still surfing in Spain.
After the lacking-the-key incident, we headed off to our now we-are-extremely-late rendez vous, to a small, nice bar called ‘le cyrano’ at place de clichy. The one person I know from my school had invited me there, and we made the best of the 3e wine glasses, mingled and laughed. It was nice seeing Eeva and Laura. The guy from my school tried to hook me up with his friend, a definitely pretty girl, whose phone number I got. We caught the last metro, to head to a watering hole closer to our place, and the Bastille area provides you just that. With unaffordable prices unfortunately.
After having checked out the prices we entered a really chique design bar that was completely empty, and had a bottle of frizzante (warm, but brought over in an ice bucket). The place was boring, so we were heading home and Laura wanted to talk to the policemen on the street. And lots of other people we didn’t know too. Somehow, we wound up in a sleazy bar with (relatively) cheap beer, and weren’t home until five. Or six.

THURSDAY
I think we woke up around two. Like on all other days.
Feeling slightly weakened by our nightly efforts, we decided to limit our touristic ambitions to the Jardin des plantes right behind our place. We were meaning to go to the zoo, but we were late. This happened the next day too. Instead, we went to an Arab restaurant. It was really nice, Islamic (I think) style decorations, soft sofas. Everybody was having tea. I think the girls were the only ones with a coca cola on the table. We asked for a shisha pipe, they had a taste I haven’t had before, apple-mint, which was really good. When we eventually came out, it was already dark, and we hadn’t eaten a thing yet. My mum had come over o our place already, and our sorry gang headed to the Quartier Latin to find some grub. We ended up in a crap restaurant with a fifteen Euro menu, and awful wine. I was still hungry after having eaten my menu and half of my mother’s.
With the help of Finnish sciences-po Heidi, we found our way to a bar called Hideout, on rue pot fu fer, close to the Pantheon. We had just missed the 2,50e pints, but the wine turned out to be affordable. Especially after they ran out of wine glasses and used normal glasses instead. Laura and her charm got full glasses ever time. The place was crammed, obviously people knew about the cheap pints. We were only four, but the bar was full of people, and I decided, once here, I could try to talk to people I don’t know! really! It worked, and when the bar closed, we invited everybody to join us at the Violon dingue, just a little bit further away. By this time the lack of sleep the night before was starting to take its toll on petit moi. Finally our gang split up, and some people who won’t be named here, went on to party at some dude’s house.

FRIDAY
And then came the weekend. Halfway through the girls trip, and there was very little light at the end of the tunnel.
Friday morning was however considerably more civilised for me. We met an old family friend, Krister, at Place Dauphine, on the same island as the Notre Dame – a real find! There was a small restaurant, where I ate one of the best chocolate cakes in my life. And I decided that if I ever get to go on a date here, that’s where I’ll take the girl. Krister was doing well, living a little bit outside Paris, enjoying life. We had a nice time, and catching up was swell.
to be continued...

CROISSANT FEVER

I'm sitting here with helsinki-help-laura having a morning croissant. I think its the third croissant i've had..
I was up until one in the morning finishing off my presentation on wether: ' is prediction in international politics an illusion?'. what the hell does that even mean. But, i got it finished. Laura and eeva were arriving at six oclock in the morning. But, instead of going to sleep, i watched five consecutive series of 24 (what a kick-ass series, really).
But now, its vacation time, and the girls is in town. you do the math.
Also, mum is coming tommorrow, and julia will come back in the evening. Overrepresentation of the other sex.
I have to defend my croissant-turf, laura is eating mine up,
bye!

customerserviceland

bzzzzzzz says the coffeebeangrinder
mmmm says the niklas
muhahaa!
coffeeaddict.

Its been a beautiful week in Paris, clear cold autumn days. too bad i havent been out during the day all week. I have been a good boy and tried to study all week (tried, referring to varying success). I'm still working on the same bloody three page essay, so I don't even want to imagine what the six page philosophical 'why should we obey laws'-essay will require.
As incredible as it is, our little parisian flat is finally connected to the world wide web! So you want to call, make the free skype calls. I'm niklas.saxen and julia (who is now surfing in Spain for a week) is juliasaxen.
Companies here don't actually have a service counter where you can physically go (if you find one, they will tell you, after waiting in line for twenty minutes, that this is the wrong place for that, and hand you a phone number). There is always a service PHONENUMBER, and you always have to call yourself. the company will never call themselves to find something out for you. The service calls are modestly priced though, around 0,34e/minute (for the internet) (anybody heard of FREE service numbers?!?!). Luckily, the calls you make only last about 10 minutes, because you have to select the service and wait in line. Also, the chances of you getting the right place on the first call are maybe 1/10. Of course, they don't connect you, you have to call yourself again. I for example called our internet company, Neuf (which doesnt even physically operate in Paris), say five times, and got a different answer for our problem each time. Now imagine doing this with every single thing you have to organize. Developing countryyyyyyy.
Okay, maybe i should actually start studying instead of fooling myself, and doing everything but..
have a bitchin' weekend.
Niklas