Something to care about

I took the long road home today, or maybe I didn't--I never seem to arrive at our flat having gone the same way. This sentiment puts me in mind of a Tolkien quote popular for tattoos, tee shirts and bumper stickers, but I would rather not get lost in all of that.
Instead, let me remind you a passage from ye olde Hitchhiker's Guide:

It's quite liberating to remain uncomprehending of the birds. One of my favorite aspects of my Paris adventure has been the gift of being in public and not having to listen to the paltry ongoings of people's lives with whom I am neither acquainted nor  curious of.  I must have thought of that passage no less than ten times--when once the beaches of my placid metro wagon were stormed by the trumpets and tempests of English, ever-petulant to my unwitting ears.

Birdspeak, indeed.

But the times mes amis--they are subject to le changement.
Example: this Sunday past, I went with a couple of friends to the Love Life Parade--a movable feast of music in support of SIDA (AIDS) research. I saw a few new groups that were fun to run along behind and I even had the pleasure of hearing one of my favorite French bands, C2C.

Notice, I didn't exactly say, seeing..

Well, in fact I was in front of the stage for awhile, during which time I lost both my companions and my balance no less than seven times. Never did find said companions; walked home alone, covered in other people's sweat and smelling like smoke.
It was a great experience, don't read me wrong--but I was a little disappointed that C2C didn't play either of my two favorite songs: Arcades or Down the Road.
But here is twenty seconds of the performance from their perspective:
All of this is interesting, I know, but how does it relate to windspeed, power to weight ratios or berries?
Well friends, it was specifically on that outing that I noticed people around me speaking about me. Oh yes, your foreign language fear-come-true.
I got trapped between three people who were trying to go in the opposite direction as the crowd and they didn't seem to notice they had encircled me.
<<Laisse Le Blonde ! >> one of them said.
Oh thank goodness, I thought, he means me.
A young man who's tone was all flirts and smiles said to no one in particular, "It takes a certain kind of person to exit in the opposite direction." I was sore-footed, tired, and... exiting in the opposite direction, so naturally I stuck out my tongue.

It rained with a jealous god's fury this morning--but after class, the sky was a clapping blue and the wind ruffled my hair teasingly. Long walks in cities alway put me in a Holden Caulfield headspace: 41 gorgeous blocks ! 

In Paris, the changing of the seasons is harkened more by the restyling of the vestments in the display cases than any substantial crank in the climate; but Fall is also a time of the harvest, so there have been a lot of fresh vegetables to eat and great meals to be made with my coloc.
I love the people I live with. It was so hard for awhile there to volunteer for anything extra--like wiping up someone else crumbs, or taking the trash down for a second time in one week. But we've turned a new leaf and wait for it, here it comes--the titular line: ahem, and they've given me something to care about.
Backstory: We lost four great colocators recently to lives and escapades elsewhere, all of whom are dearly missed.  But two new girls and three new boys moved in and they're all SO CLEAN! Every single one of them does their own dishes-- get this-- right after they've eaten.  We have cups, mugs, plates--so many UNBROKEN wine glasses and there is hardly ever spilled whiskey on the floor anymore. I can leave food on the table and no one eats it. The neighbor rarely calls to threaten us and if I've furtively glanced at him coming up the stairs as I descend, he doesn't look like he's about to bust a forehead vein or strangle me in front of his baby. Like I said, I love all the people who've lived here so far--(woah, just counted and realized 15 people have moved in and out over these two years,) but we've got a great mix at the moment and I feel lucky to be awake enough to witness it.

Missing out on life, that's for the birds.
I've started my final month of French classes. The progress I've made amazes me. Try to understand, people from where I come from don't grow up to speak French, or Spanish...or anything but 'Merican. Next try to consider the fact that the human brain is even capable of switching between two or more discrite forms of verbal communication..seriously, that's  as cool as photosynthesis....maybe even cell division.

But check it, I've just arranged my first hair appointment over the phone here, sur la planète France, and when I took down all the relevant information I was surprised to look up and not see my professor smiling back at me, ready to ask the class listening comprehension questions.
My newest teacher is definitly cool. She is well traveled and pretty badass, but I was really hoping to finish my cycle with the the prof I had for July and September. With him, every class was as much about improving myself as a teacher as it was about improving myself as a student--and in other circumstances, we might have been colleagues or even friends. But one can't complain, there is--after all, no crying in Baseball. Anyway, you see all the above reasons for living towards happiness. So many good feels, bro.

Sorry, Forest--been to the jungle and seen the trees; sadly, life isn't a box of chocolates. But sometimes we find sunshine where we least expect it.

May you find yours wherever you need it next.