Air sick bags, not just for vomit anymore!

The national sport of France is striking. However, the nation pastime is paperwork. There is no such thing as a quick trip to the doctor, the dentist, the pharmacist, the bank, the post office, etc. There is at least a one page sheet to fill out for everything. For example, there is no detention slip here. There is a detention form. One of the most frustrating things about living in France is trying to get a visa. Last year, the process involved making an appointment at the French consulate in Chicago, having all the necessary paperwork filled out, copied, etc, going to the consulate at my scheduled time in the morning, then going back to pick my visa up in the afternoon. That visa was good for 3 months. Upon my arrival in France, I had to fill out (gasp!) more forms, and mail them in. A few weeks later I was given an appointment for a medical exam. The most unpleasant part of the appointment was the naked from the waist up lung x-ray. I was taken to a tiny tiny room. The nurse put me in the room, and told me to take off everything from the waist up. Then she closed the door. I had a momentary panic as I thought about a David Sedaris story, in which he goes to the doctor. After putting him in a similar tiny room, he thinks the nurse tells him to strip down to his underwear. She didn't. So then she comes back, opens the door to the little room, and he is standing there in his underwear. However, unlike my scribe hero, I did not misunderstand the nurse. I had my x-ray, answered the nurses questions (are you pregnant? are you sure? you are positive you are not pregnant? not even the slightest chance?), smiled and nodded at her "advice" (you should lose some weight), and the grand finale of this magical appointment was having a rather merry doctor push and prod me up and down. Two months, one expired visa, and several more hoops jumped through later, I was given my residency card. The total number of times I had to use my card-zero. Over the summer, I was given some good news-we no longer had to get a residency card. I was ecstatic, until I found out that we had to do all the same bureaucratic nonsense, we just were given an extra sticker in our passport instead. Great. This is a "new" (new meaning everything we have to do is EXACTLY the same, we just get a sticker instead of a card) system for France, and they are clearly still working out some kinks. I know one assistant who has gotten her sticker, and that is only because she bugged people about it. I have yet to receive a single piece of paper, my medical appointment, etc. My current visa is technically good until September. And since I ripped out the piece of paper saying I needed to "validate" my visa, there was nothing in my passport to indicate my visa was technically no good. Plus, most French people are not in the know about anything. However, I was just a bit concerned about getting back in the country after Christmas. What if I got in the line of the one passport control officer who was in the know? I thought it would be easy enough to talk my way in, if there were any problems, but it was just not something I particularly wanted to do, especially in French and in my very jet lagged state. I don't even know why I doubted anything. I handed my passport to the officer, and said "bonjour" to which he replied nothing because he was deep in conversation with the other officer in the booth. He opened up my passport to the page with LAST YEAR'S visa (expired in December of 2008), said "ok" and handed it back to me. He did not look at my information page or my current visa. He was so apathetic I probably could have gotten in had I folded the air sick bag in half and written "passport" on it.
Remembering my horrible flight back after last Christmas, I was a little nervous to see who I would be sitting by. Much to my relief, I was sitting next to a girl, who was sound asleep by the time I got to my seat. She slept most of the flight, but ended up talking to me the last couple hours. I usually prefer quiet seat mates, but she was nice. She's French, and lives in Paris. She had spent the last 3 weeks in the US. She told me I had the easiest English to understand of anyone she's ever met. Then she asked me why Americans were so much nicer than French people. I didn't want to agree to enthusiastically, at the risk of offending her, so I just kind of shrugged. But she continued, "Americans smile all the time and they were so friendly to me and everyone. French people, you know, they are not like that. They are not friendly. They do not smile. It is true" And this point, I just had to laugh, because I ask myself that all the time. She gave me her phone number and told me to call her the next time I am in Paris. She said we could go out, and she would show me her favorite spots. I just might do that.