"You don't accept Visa? That's ironic." January 7th, 2012

My mother and I took a mini trip to Chicago last week so I could apply for my visa. We decided to do it in one day so we wouldn’t have to worry about a hotel and all of that stuff. I found a pretty cheap flight (only $75 round trip), so we flew out of Detroit at 7:30am and back home at 8:30pm. It was a fun day, but very, very tiring!

We flew in to O’Hare and took the L downtown. We walked around for a bit, until it was time for my appointment at noon. My mom was hoping that the French consulate would be some pretty European building adorned with the French flag so that she could a picture of me awkwardly standing in front of it. To her dismay, it was simply a floor on the 37^th level of a skyscraper. I felt so cool when I checked in to the desk on the first floor. They issued me this secret agent pass that I had to scan in order to get access to the elevators.

Once I got to the 37^th floor, I experienced my first taste of French chauvinism. The conversation went a little like this:

Me: Hi!

Man at desk: Bonjour

Me: I’m here for my visa appointment

Man: quoi?

Me: Visa? I’m here to apply for my visa

Man: Ah! Veez-ah! Oui! Demi-tour et passer devant les doubles portes. Tournez à gauche et c'est la première salle à droite

Me : Thanks…

Man : De rien.

 He’s lucky I understand French.  What if I didn’t know what he was saying!?


Anyway, I checked in for my appointment and waited for my name to be called. While I waited, this crazy French show was on. From what I could understand, it was a show about a baby doll that poops and farts, and some dude wearing women's clothing was taking care of it and causing all sorts of mishaps. I hope my host family watches that show- it was CRAZY. 


Once I heard the consul thickly call out "Kath-reen", I approached a desk with an angry French lady behind a wall of plexiglass. Apparently they don't want to get too close to me and my American cooties. I paid the fee for my visa. When I asked what type of card they accept, she replied, "Mastercard, Discover, and AMEX." I said "You don't accept Visa? That's ironic!" She didn't think it was as funny as I did. She coldly said, "Kath-reen, give me your papers". I gave her the papers I'd thrown together the night before (Bad idea. I realized at 9pm that I needed an extra set of passport photos. My mother wasn't pleased) and she checked to see if they were all there.


That was it. Yep. I trekked all the way to Chicago to hand some papers to a disgruntled French woman. I also gave her my passport, which should be mailed back to me with my visa inside any day now.

After that, my mom and I spent the remainder of the day walking, shopping, and eating along the Magnificent Mile. We got a snack from this place called Wow Bao. We got potstickers and bao, which is kind of like a mix between a noodle and gnocchi, stuffed with whichever item you choose (I got teriyaki chicken, my mom got kung pao chicken). It was a neat little place that was slammed at lunchtime.

Since then, I've been sitting on my butt at home. I got my wisdom teeth pulled on Monday, which wasn't nearly as bad as people make it out to be. I've been sleeping 12+ hours a day, eating pudding, applesauce, and soup. I tell myself every day that I'll get around to doing something of importance. But hey, that's what tomorrow's for, right?

Affecteusement,
Katie