The Draught is Over & Two Weeks to Go.

This weekend was a good weekend, because after a month of separation (the draught as Zack likes to call it), Zachary and I were finally reunited on Friday. I woke up at 8 in the morning, despite the fact that I could have slept in, and since I still had about 4 hours till Zachary came. A car repair, car wash, and chat with Chris later, Zack called me as he stood outside of my apartment. I practically ran home from campus, walked inside my apartment, and there he was, sitting on my couch. Oh, glorious reunion.

First on our agenda was getting a license to wed. Which was slightly more difficult than one would expect because Zack kept saying his answers out loud while I was trying to fill out my own answers. However, we were successful, and could now run away to get married if we wanted to, but we won't because, two weeks.

After some moving, it was time to get ready for bridals. We took them at the state capitol, and it really was so much fun. I love our photographer Jalene, she is simply amazing! Here's a little sneak peek that my lovely bridesmaid, Jessika, captured. She was a gem coming to help us out all evening. 

The rest of the weekend was spent hanging out at the Jarvis family reunion. I loved getting to meet the extended family and really feel so blessed to be joining such an incredible family. And a fun one, too!

They headed home today, but luckily, we only have to wait till Thursday to see each other again. And then till the next Thursday, and then we are married, because two weeks. Two weeks, people.

Love always,
Ems

Why I'll Never Say I'm not a Feminist Again.

My good friend Caroline posted this advertisement on her Facebook the other day, and ever since, I haven't been able to skip it when it comes up on my YouTube, let alone get through it without crying a little bit.

All through my high school career, I professed that I WAS NOT under any circumstances a feminist. Little did I know, I just had the wrong idea about feminism. Being a feminist doesn't mean you don't support stay-at-home-moms, it doesn't mean you hate men, it doesn't mean you're a bad person. Quite the contrary. To me, being a feminist means that women should be able to be whatever they want. So my friend wants to be a lawyer and I want to stay at home, that's great! We can both do that and be outstanding examples of femininity. Being a feminist means you want girls to believe in themselves. You want women to love themselves and every part of their bodies and personalities. Being a feminist means that we form a network of women who love and support one another.

The beautiful thing about this advertisement is that it empowers women. It shows us that there was a point in our lives when we believed in ourselves, and thought that we could do anything as good as the next person because we were girls. It reminds us to believe in ourselves like our ten year-old self did.

And that is why I'll never say I'm not a feminist again. I believe in all those things. I believe women should be able to go out and achieve whatever they want. More importantly, I want my daughters to know that they can win the race, they can be a scientist or a doctor, and they can excel at whatever it is they want to.

Love always,
Ems 

Surprise Surprise

Sometimes, the best things come from the most spontaneous ideas.

Flashback to July 3rd. I was talking to my little cousin, Megan, and she was asking about my 4th of July plans. She thought for sure I would be spending it with my wonderful fiancé because, that's what you're supposed to do, right? Except when you're in a long distance relationship... Anyway, I was sitting at work when I realized I didn't have any plans, and really just wanted to be with my new fiancé for the 4th. I walked into Sophia's office and said, "Do you and Will want to drive down to Arizona with me?" After some contemplation, they said yes!

We hopped in the car that evening at 6 pm and made the 10 hour trek to Mesa without Zack getting any wind of it, which was impressive given the amount of phone talking he and I do. When we were saying our goodnights, I made him really worried because I told him he needed to leave his phone on loud because I might need to call him. Little did he know it would be at 3 am when I was standing at his front door.

The look of surprise on his face when he opened the front door was completely worth the 10 hours it took to get to him. I've never seen him so shocked or so excited! Let me tell you, if you really want to feel loved, surprise your significant other with your presence, you'll never feel better!

We spent the weekend at the pool, in the lake, and eating delicious food from Cathy (Zack's mom, and my future mother-in-law whom I adore). The weekend was just lovely. Not to mention, exactly what I needed, because this month apart has been torture.

The good news is this: on Friday, the wait is over. Zack will be here for bridals, and then the next weekend I'm in Arizona, and the weekend after that, WE ARE GETTING MARRIED. Talk about madness.

Life is beautiful despite the madness.

Love always,
Ems

p.s. For those who asked, here's a ring pic.

What's not to Love?

Life is just darn beautiful. While being engaged has its moments of craziness, at the end of the day, when Zack calls me, and we get to catch up and just talk, every crazy moment slips away into pure bliss, because I am reminded that I'm marrying my best friend, and what's not to love about that? And whenever I get on Facebook, I make sure to go to his page, because seeing this:

makes me so happy. 

Something else I can't help but love: baby pictures of Zack. I'm making the traditional movie of the two of us through the years, and he recently sent me a handful of baby Zack pictures that I'm now obsessed with because he's almost too cute to handle. I mean, I know he's really good looking now, but childhood Zack is just adorable. Have a look:

Adorable, I tell ya.

Anyway, in news unrelated to engagement bliss, this weekend was spent in Sophia's classroom, helping her decorate it for the upcoming fall semester. Her classroom has also become one of my new obsessions, because it is also adorable, and we've put a lot of work in it. Helping her made me think that maybe I missed my calling in life and should be teaching, but I've realized I have a problem where I just want to do everything and can't. I want to be a teacher, a social media guru, an event planner, a medical assistant, etc. and there simply is not time in this life to do every profession I find interesting. I guess the good news is that above all those, I really do want to be a mom, and luckily, I'll be able to. Boohya.

Life is wonderful.

Love always,
Ems 

Engaged to My Very Favorite

If anyone has read my blog for a while, you know about my very favorite person. The person I've definitely written the most about, the person who's spent a lot of time in my life, the person who I call my very best friend and actually mean it. That person is Zachary William Jarvis, and that person is my fiancé.

Now how's that for the happiest sentence of my life?

After six long years of friendship, nintendo, soccer games, Michigan poker, teasing, and love, we're engaged to be married on August 16th in the Manti temple, in the same sealing room as my parents.

We got engaged at Lake Powell, after the most perfect weekend with his family, and he proposed with my grandmother's ring that I've been in love with forever. Everything about the evening of our engagement was perfect, including being pulled over by the lake police, because what's life without a little bit of adventure?

Lots of people have been surprised at how quickly everything has happened: Zack had only been home for a month and a half when we got engaged, and we are getting married on his three month mark of being home. Surprising people has been awesome and so fun, because we've just decided that we know this is the right thing for us, so let others think what they will. I've never been happier in my entire life, and we're not even living in the same state! However, knowing that I'm marrying the person I've loved since sophomore year of high school is an absolute dream come true, in the most literal sense of the phrase. I've waited for this for six long years and it all seems too good to be true that I get to call him fiancé, and in a month, husband.

Zachary William Jarvis is my very favorite person in the entire world. He's funny, and he thinks I'm funny (which is a plus), but he's also caring, adoring, full of service, sensitive, hard working, and determined. Above all, I know that I'm marrying my number one fan, my greatest confidant, my biggest adventuring partner, and my very best friend. Lots of people say they're marrying their best friend, but I seriously doubt they know the meaning of best friend the way that Zack and I do. We've been there for each other through some of our hardest moments in our lives, and now, we get to face those hard moments together.

I'm beyond elated to marry this goofball of mine, and I really can't express my gratitude for the paths our lives have wound to bring us to this point. Everything I've ever wanted in a husband is in that man at the top of this post, how could I ever ask for more?

Life is wonderful!

Love always,
Ems

p.s. Just for fun, here's a picture of when we (essentially) first met on my 16th birthday.

Happy Sunday, Folks.

Happy Sunday, internet friends.

As I was flying into JFK airport today I had a thought that relates to this Mormon Message video (one that is possibly my favorite Mormon Message).

You see, as we were flying in, I was looking at all of the houses and from a high altitude, a heavenly view perhaps, everything looked relatively the same. I could not tell the difference in class and wealth, they all looked like nice houses and I thought, "I'm sure good people live there". Sure, the houses were different shapes and sizes, but they all looked relatively the same- like houses. It wasn't until we got closer to the ground that I could tell a difference in wealth between the houses. How like life that is.

When we are close to the ground, heavily influenced by worldly possessions and descriptions of worth, it's easy to tell a difference between different people. It's easy to judge; however, when we try and view people from a heavenly perspective, when we look at their self-worth as our Heavenly Father would, we begin to see fewer and fewer differences. We realize that God loves all of his children as precisely that, his children. He does not discriminate based on wealth, religion, race, appearance-- he simple loves everyone. To him, they are all children, just as to me, flying high above, all the houses were just house. And that's such a splendid thought to me. God is our loving father. He is a father who cares for all of us. He cares about the tiny things we think nobody cares about. He wants us to be happy, and He's trying his very hardest to lead us to that happiness- it's different for everyone.

 I'm going to try and remember this with every person I met. Because while I've known it's true for a long time, it's always hard to implement in real life. I know we're all children of God, and I'm so thankful for that knowledge, and for God's love.

Oh, it is wonderful to me.

 Love always, Ems

When the Best Friend Returns. . .

We party.

My very best friend in the entire world got home from his mission on May 15th, 2014, and it was extraordinary. Zac Velarde, being the good friend he is, sent me snapchats of the entire airport meeting, because I threatened to hurt him if he didn't. Oddly enough, my heart was pounding when Velarde told me they were waiting for him, and then I was elated when I got these first two snaps.

But the burst of happiness came when I got the picture of the two best friends united after two long, hard years of separation. It was always hard to hear Velarde talk about how much he missed Zack because something about their friendship just sort of pulls at my heart- they really are the best of friends. It's like at our high school graduation, I only started crying when I saw the two of them hug and tear up.

Anyway. I got to go out ATVing with Zack's family the day after he got home. He taught me how to drive, and while I'm no expert, it was pretty darn fun. Personally, I think we really rock the helmets like nobody's business. #thuglife

Then, for Memorial Day, the Jarvis family was gracious enough to invite my roommates and myself down to their cabin in Munds Park for the extended weekend, and we had such a blast. It was the perfect weekend. We played a lot of Michigan Poker (and had a game where Zack lost ALL of his chips which I have never seen happen), rode around on the ATVs, played LOTS of volleyball, and told some pretty ridiculous jokes. Oh, and ate lots and lots of good food. Which is always a big plus in life. Also, can I take a moment to say how much I adore my roommates? There is never a dull moment in this apartment, and we all get along amazingly well. We're supportive of each other, we laugh, we cry, we party, it's just the best, and everyday I'm thankful. Also, we really missed Cicily on our trip, she went home for the weekend. 

So yes, life has been a party since Zachary William got home from his mission. It's still a bit unreal that I can just ring him on the telephone and talk to him whenever I want. It seems like eternity has passed, and at the same time, it seems like he never left- we're still that good of friends.

Friends are what make the world a better place. I'm convinced of that. Luckily, I've been blessed with some of the very best and everyday, I just wonder how I got so lucky- I guess God must really love me or something. #boohya. But in all serious, I'm so thankful for these people in my life. They make everyday better, brighter, funnier, and more exciting. I'd be pretty lost without them.

Life is good.

Love always,
Ems

On Best Friends.

I got home to Mesa on Thursday and am just here for a mini vacation. As I've been home, I've had a lot of time to reflect on life and the friendships I've had for two reasons: 1. The celebration of Morgan's upcoming wedding, 2. Missionary friends returning. Reflecting on these things has brought me to such a thankful spot in my life for so many reasons.

I'm quick to call someone my best friend, which doesn't lessen the term to me. I have a lot of friends whom I love and cherish and really do consider my best friend. I realized that there are people I will continually fall back on for support, like Morgan and Jessika. We've been best friends since we were two, and despite our different friend groups, we get together again and it's like we never left each other's sides. Naomi is another friend like that. She's married, and I'm in Provo, but we can talk to each other on the phone for hours, and whenever I'm in town, it's like high school all over again. The thing is, I don't just have girlfriends like that. Zac Velarde has been such a good friend to me since we met, and every time I'm in Mesa, you can find us together, loving life and living like there's no tomorrow.

The thing I've come to realize  is that these people, Zac, Morgan, Naomi, Jacob, Jessika, Adam, Joey, Maeser- people I really know and love abundantly- have always been there for me. We've seen good and bad times, and somehow, miraculously, we come out on top, and that's not always the case with friends. Friendships don't always survive fights and disagreements, but when they do, they last forever. I think that one of the reasons I consistently come back to these people is because I know them so well, I know their stories, I know their worries (in a small way), I know their families, and I love everything about them. How could I not consider them my best friends?

Sometimes it's hard for me to watch my life change so much, and see everyone growing up, getting married, and having kids, but as I look at the friends I've been surrounded with, I know that the ones that really mean the world to me, the ones I've been with forever, they will always be right next to me, no matter where life takes us. I may have a fickle heart, but deep down, with my best friends, I'll always be loyal to those who have shown me loyalty. I happen to be blessed with a good group of people who've done that for me.

A Semester Ago

A semester ago, I blogged about my favorite part of my study abroad in Paris. Now, I'm at the end of Winter Semester and I haven't blogged once. Luckily, best friends are the best motivators. That's why I keep Morgan around- to motivate me with comments like this:

So, here I am. Blogging. 

How do you recapture an entire semester in one blog post? 

You don't. 

Here are some highlights. 

1. I'm obsessed with my major. I know I say that a lot, but this semester has been the semester where I realized I want to actually just stay in the English department and take all the fun classes for the rest of my life. Although I actually don't want to be in school forever. Maybe just for a master's... maybe in creative writing? Yikes. That's an idea. 

2. I applied to Teach for America. And got a final interview. And will find out if I'm in the program on May 5th. So I will keep you up to date on that. 

3. Sophia and William got married. I am obsessed with them. They are my favorite couple and their wedding was so beautiful. I'm in love with them. 

4. Caleb and Paige got married (over Christmas break) and it was also lovely. And included Disneyland with the fam- which is always a bonus because I'm a bit obsessed with Disneyland, and I'm obsessed with my little cousin Molly who spent a lot of time with me in Disneyland. And maybe, just maybe I cried during Mickey's Magical Map. 

5. I literally have the best roommates ever. And we love each other. And partying. And it's magical. And Catherine lives in our apartment, essentially, and we are ok with that. 

Yes, Life is good. It's really good. 

I'll start blogging again. Promise. 

Love always, 

Ems

Favorite Part.

As I've been home from Paris, the question I constantly get is, of course, "So what was your favorite thing about Paris?"

Because a person can pick that.

As I've responded to all these people, I inevitably pick the same thing: church.
Yes, even in the most beautiful city on earth, my favorite thing was church.
Here's why.

We spent a lot of time at the church. Not only did we have the normal 3 hours every Sunday, but we always had religion there on Mondays, plus FHE, and most weeks, the 4 hours of normal class. We were constantly at the church, hanging out at the institute, taking advantage of the free wifi, and eating at the corner boulangerie. The institute quickly became our second home. We all felt comfortable there, we were friends with Elder and Sister Haward, we knew the missionaries who came in to email every monday afternoon, we knew where the comfiest seats were, where the best wifi was, and that the church would always have clean bathrooms with hot water to wash your hands in (both rarities in Paris). The church was safe, it was far from the hustle and bustle of Paris life and we could leave our purses anywhere without worrying about pick-pockets.

However, the actual congregation was also incredible to be around. Going to church every week, and being surrounded by the members of that congregation, who were doing their best to live the gospel in a place where most people think Mormons are Amish, was simply remarkable. I realized over those three months, that I can't even begin to comprehend how blessed I am, and how much I take for granted living in a place where the vast majority of my neighbors are members of the church. They proved to me that faith is so much more than just confessing that you believe, it's living like you believe each and every day. It's sharing the gospel with coworkers, people on the metro, and the people you meet in your apartment complex elevator. Faith is living each day as a representative of Christ, being aware that you are always being watched by those around you, and making sure that those who watch, can tell you believe. They showed me that no matter what your circumstances are in this life, you can love God with all you have, and then give him even more than you have.

I think the greatest thing I learned from the Paris 1st ward is that this gospel, is precious. The gospel changes people in ways that we cannot even begin to comprehend, and even if I've been a member my entire life, it's supposed to change my life, too. They taught me to truly put my faith in Christ, because through him, everything is possible. They taught me to never give up on a person, because everyone can change, it just has to be on God's timing. They taught me to love everyone: rich, poor, black, white, Harvard grad, or elementary school drop out. Above all, they taught me that this gospel means everything, and should never be taken for granted.

I hope that I can remember what I learned from those members.

Thank you, Paris 1st ward.

Love always,
Ems

Seeped in Memory.

As I prepare to leave Paris, I can't help but think of how seeped in memories this city has become. Everywhere I go in Paris, I have memories of the first time I visited it, or the time something funny happened, or a person I saw there who impacted my life. Everywhere I've walked, I've created memories. Every second of this study abroad has created memories. The city is drenched in memories.

I don't want to leave France, ever.  I cannot tell you how much I am going to miss this place. So much about it has become home now- even the ridiculously crowded RER train that always happens to be more packed than usual AND 20 minutes late when I must get to class. I'm going to miss the beautiful city, the way it shines in the rain, the way it sparkles at night. The river that's gushing with rain water right now. The storekeepers who always greet you with Bonjour and help you with anything you need. The boulangeries on every street corner. The adorable little children. The faithful members of the church. The cobblestone streets. The rushing of the metro. The calm of the Tuileries. The art of the Louvre, Orangerie, Orsay, Pompidou. 

There is just so much that I love and so much that I want to keep forever.

I want to stay. Or come back all the time. One of the two. Because America may be my home, but this feels like where I belong. I've found it, and it's Paris. Somehow I always knew it would be.

So as I say goodbye to my city tomorrow, I'll be holding back tears the entire time. Nothing will ever be able to replace this time in Paris, and no matter the new memories I create here, nothing will ever compare to the first memories I created here. 

As Earnest Hemingway said: 

There is never any ending to Paris and the memory of each person who has lived in it differs from that of any other. We always returned to it no matter who we were or how it was changed or with what difficulties, or ease, it could be reached. Paris was always worth it and you received return for whatever you brought to it. But this is how Paris was in the early days when we were very poor and very happy.

Love always,

Ems

Thoughts from the Metro

A world of loneliness
in a sea of people

That's how I feel about the metro. Every day, I ride the metro. Quite literally every day, I am on those trains. I find the metro to be such a paradoxical place, and every time I'm on it, I think about what a paradox it is. You see, the metro is busy, inherently. There are so many people in Paris, and all those people have places to be, and the metro is the fastest way to get there. The paradox is, the metro is the loneliest place I have encountered in Paris thus far.

I love sitting on the metro and watching people: people reading, people listening to music, people talking to friends, people on the phone, people oblivious to the world, people pondering life, people watching me watch people. We all sit there, consumed in our various activities, and try, as best we can, to be oblivious to everyone.

Why is it that we isolate ourselves like this?

I sometimes wonder if there are people looking to be not-so-lonely on the metro and conversely, those seeking solitude by slipping through those turnstiles. Is it possible that somebody's looking for a kind word or a smile among the sea of people? Looking to do a good deed by giving change to the saxophone man? Or is everyone only wanting to be anonymous?

It's amazing that in a city so bustling, you can feel so alone. Such a paradoxical world we live in, is it not?

Love always,
Ems

Writer's Block

I'm suffering from major writer's block.
Although, it's more of just writer's-lack-of-motivation.
Either way, I've been trying to formulate a post about Normandy
and failing
so instead, I'm just going to say
you may or may not find out about Normandy.

In case you don't...
here's a picture.

Ya, it was pretty beautiful. 

Here's to breaking free of writer's block! 

Love always,

Ems

Fun French Facts.

After being in Paris, here are some things I've noticed about the French- things that actually live up to or challenge the stereotypes.

True:
-they carry around banquettes
-they eat more cheese than you can even imagine
-they are very much into PDA
-they ACTUALLY wear berets (and scarves!)
-there is a distinct smell that you will smell at least once in your day
-to counterbalance the last one, everyone wears parfume/cologne
-Paris is more beautiful in the rain
-they do smoke a lot, and they start at a very young age
-the food is heavenly

False:
-they are rude: I've met a grand total of 2 rude frenchmen while I've been here.
-they dress in all black (they do wear a lot of neutrals, but also a lot of color!)
-they eat snails all the time
-they hate Americans

There you have it. Paris stereotypes in a nutshell.

Love always,
Ems

Giverny.

Our first group wide excursion was to Giverny, Normandy, the home of Monet. As you can imagine, it was beautiful. We started off at Monet's house where we were able to explore his gardens and his home. Monet's home 1. Is incredibly colorful and thus, magnificent and 2. Full of his paintings and thus, breathtaking. Walking into Monet's parlor, you are confronted by so many pieces of his art that it seems hard to breath. So many famous, beautiful, pieces of art hanging there, just as he had them when he lived there. I wish pictures were allowed inside his home, but they aren't, so these pictures from the garden will have to suffice.

After the morning in Giverny, we headed to La Rouche-Guyon, one of France's top 100 most beautiful villages (because that's a real competition in France). Let me tell you, it really was beautiful. Located right on the Seine, it has a massive old manor that has a keep nestled into the hillside. This manor also has quite the history since during WWII it was used by Nazis during the occupation of France. Also housed inside the manor are some incredibly scary tunnels that we explored. The tunnels take you to the "time machine" but we're all convinced that said time machine is really a torture device because it was freaky. But boy, oh boy, was the view from atop the keep (after about 500 stairs) beautiful.

I have two favorite parts of the manor: 1. The library, of course. 2. The random assortment of couches in the courtyard that aided in producing my favorite picture, thus far, of the trip. Note that Jared is surround by 6 girls and yet looks completely unentertained. Oh, Jared, how we love you.

Indeed, it was a wonderful day excursion. This coming week, we are headed to the beaches of Normandy and I cannot wait. It should yield many a memory and an abundance of pictures.

Love always,
Ems

For the Beauty.

As I've spent numerous hours in churches, I've grown a great love for the way in which the catholic church makes their houses of worship. These churches are incredible. Each church I walk into, I reflect on how it portrays the beauty of religion and the devotion of the people. Many of the great churches we've visited took decades, if not a century, to build.

We were able to visit Chartres last weekend, and it was magnificent. We had a tour from the man who wrote the book (quite literally) on Chartres Cathedral: Malcom Miller.  He explained to us many of the stained glass windows, as well bestowing some facts about the various fires Chartres survived, and the competition between Chartres and Notre Dame de Paris.

After enjoying the beauty of Chartres Cathedral, we had some free time to wander the town of Chartres and we stumbled upon the most beautiful church- Église Saint-Aignan. We weren't completely sure we could go, but since the doors were open, we decided to head on in. In Alex's words, "I'm really glad we're go-inners."

 

One thing I've come to appreciate while walking through these churches is the Catholic practice of saints. Saints usually illude my religious understanding, but as I've sat in the chapels built to different saints, I've come to understand the comfort in saints. While Jesus Christ suffered for the entirety of our existence, these saints experienced specific things, or did specific things, that we can relate to. It's hard for me to explain in which ways I understand prayers to saints, but the more I see candles lit for saints, the more I understand the practice. 

I love the opportunity to visit these beautiful places of worship and to reflect upon God nearly every day in an awe-inspiring church. The craftsmanship of each building is astounding, and while none of these buildings are where I worship, I cannot deny the presence of God in each of them. I believe that any building built with such devotion to God will welcome God's spirit and touch your heart. 

Love always,

Ems

Our new Favorite Crêperie.

A few days ago, I started researching cheap eats in Paris because, well, I'm a college student, and so are all my friends, so cheap eats are a must. Well, we were in the mood for crêpes the other day, and I stumbled upon this gem: Crêperie Oroyona.

Imagine your perfect Parisian cafe: mini, filled with delicious aromas, Parisian youths, and mini stairs. That is Crêperie Oroyona. It is perfect in every sense, and we love it so much. It's located in the 5th arrondissement right next to the most beautiful little bookshop where I bought the BFG in french, as well as John Green's Looking for Alaska in french. I couldn't help myself. I can never help myself around books.

So, we love this place. We love the 5th. It's wonderful.

Love always,
Ems

Random Encounters with Old Frenchmen.

Here's a funny story for your Sunday.

Our little morning walks group consists of 5 people nowadays. There used to only be four of us: Jared, Rachel, Alex, and me (side note: we love having five and love that Linda joins us).

Left to Right: Jared, me, Rachel, Alex, Seine, Boat.

The four of us are the cast of characters for most of my stories- that's what happens when you spend everyday together. Here is the story:

So, we are sitting at a wonderful little restaurant on Rue Cler, waiting for our food, enjoying the Paris sun, good conversation, and many a laugh. We are seated thus:

Alex || Rachel

--------------------

Emma || Jared 

As we talk, a French man comes up to us. This man does not seem to be homeless. He seems like a normal, well dressed, kind, old Frenchman -- nothing out of the ordinary. He touches Alex's arm and begins speaking in French, telling her something about how it's  a shame, that she shouldn't be in love with Jared, that he's probably a nice guy, but she shouldn't be in love with Jared. Why is she in love with Jared? It's all such a shame. Rachel and I are trying to hold in our copious amounts of laughter, as Alex tries to act as though this is totally normal and she knows 100% what the frenchman is saying (which she doesn't, because she's not Jared and doesn't understand French perfectly). Jared, meanwhile, is sitting, a bit mystified at the whole scenario, as he listens to this old man profess Alex's apparently undying love for him. 

When the frenchman stops prattling  Alex's response is, "Oui. Il est très beau." That's all she could muster out without laughing, and really all she could think to say, in general. We think we're rid of this man, but he walks up to Jared, puts his hand on Jared's arm and essentially says, "Good luck, you handsome young man." Then walks away. 

And just like that, we all erupt into laughter over the entire situation. 

We still have no idea why this man felt the need to stop by our table and tell Alex her love was misplaced, but maybe he just could see the innermost places of Alex's soul and Alex isn't sharing everything with us. 

I suppose it's possible. 

Lucky for the old Frenchman, Jared is dating neither me nor Rachel, which would seem like the more obvious choice considering the seating arrangement.... That would have created some awkward moments. 

Love always,

Ems

A Monday in Montmartre.

Monday, we journeyed to Montmartre. I love Montmartre, let it be know.

We zoomed over via Metro, and as we exited the train, all the Parisians were lining up for the elevator. We looked at them, looked at each other, looked at the stairs and said, "We're young and spritely! Let's take the stairs!"

Bad idea, my friends, bad idea. Apparently, unbeknownst to us, the Montmartre stop is 6 flights of stairs underground. This would be why the Parisians were all taking the elevator. As we begin climbing, it's fun and there are beautiful murals on the wall. But then we keep climbing. And keep climbing. And keep climbing. And start laughing. And are dizzy (because they're spiral stairs). And are sure we're never going to make it out a live. And keep climbing. And finally reach the top of the stairs in hysterics of laughter. Do you know how hard it is to climb stairs whilst laughing your guts out?

We headed up to Sacre Coeur, and climbed the steps to the basilica, and then Jared and I decided to climbed the 300 steps to the top. Which was worth it, but took our stair count for the day to about 1,000. Guess it was the workout of the day!

              

       

We left the tourist trap that is Sacre Coeur to go out an explore where we found the oldest cabaret in Paris, after finding one of the oldest churches in Paris, because ya know, you gotta balance out your religious and sexual sides when in Montmarte. Rachel and I were big fans of the name of the cabaret: The agile bunny. We decided that's where the idea of the play boy bunnies originated from. Don't you think?

We wandered around Montmartre, found Renoir's house, found Van Gogh's house (with a blue door that made me really really happy), found the Moulin Rouge, walked up and down lots of hills, saw lots of tourists and also lots of gypsies, and then decided to go to ghetto-ville: Saint Denis.

Here's the real quick version of the story of Saint Denis. Saint Denis was preaching to all the Parisians about what sinners they are and some dude whacked off his head mid-preaching. Not to be phased by a whacked off head, Saint Denis picked up his head, continued to walk and preach, and walked to the area of the Basilica where he died. I love the saints. They are so incredibly awesome! Sometimes I wonder why we don't have cool saints like that in mormonism... 

This is Marie-Antoinette and her Husband

Anyway, now Saint Denis is home to all the tombs of the kings of France. So Jared, our French major, was in heaven. Apparently, it is also the first example of gothic architecture, so Alex, our art-history major, was also in heaven. I just asked a lot of questions. Fun fact of the day: Prince Phillip in Sleeping Beauty is based off of Philip le bel. So yup. I loved it all. I especially love that my nerdy friends were so incredibly excited to be somewhere. Nerds make life better.

Oh, also in this same day, Jared had to go buy some random things at the grocery store. So Alex and I accompanied him. However, he didn't have anything to put his goods in. I happened to have my very nifty expandable bag that Christine kindly bought me before I left to Paris, so he rocked it like a man. I made him stop for a picture after FHE because it just made my day that he kept walking around with this bag. What a man, what a man, what a man, what  a mighty good man. 

Aimer toujours,
Ems