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I received my Imagine R card on Saturday. I paid a lump sum for a whole year’s worth of unlimited public transportation–so I decided this morning to take advantage. I headed over to Gibert Jeune, which is a fabulous papeterie (paper goods store? anyway, office supplies), to buy a few things that I have been doing without for a month, the lack of which was beginning to drive me crazy.

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Des stylos!

Pens!

Une agrafeuse! Una grapadora! Eine Hechtmachine! Una cucitrice! Un agrafador!

A (multilingual) stapler!

Des trombones!

Paper clips! (Yes, you read that right.)

Scotch!

Well, you know.

Un classeur!

A binder! It’s really the binder that will be the star of this post. You see, the paper size in France is slightly larger than letter, but not quite legal, so the binders are accordingly slightly larger. My new binder–which does not fit into my purse, hélas!–has four rings. It’s like looking at some mutated version of a binder. Observe.

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So I went to the library at the Cité to print out some music and to avail myself of their, er, four-hole punch (I think it’s called un perforateur). I punch holes in a couple of copies I had made earlier, only to discover that the four-hole punch at the library has nothing to do with the four rings in my mutant binder.

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Meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeerde. This makes Angry Bird angry.

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In other culture-shock news, I am currently eating a box of shredded carrot salad. It came with the quiche I had for lunch yesterday at the Cité cafeteria, and I saved it for today. I thought it was going to be inedible, but actually it’s got this delicious mustardy vinaigrette on it. It reminds me a little of the carrot/pineapple/raisin salad we had all over Israel when I went on Birthright.

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Fork included. Good to know.

Bisous,
Anne

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