Back to "school"

I gather that everyone here knows what it's like to feel flattered and honoured, humiliated and dumped. The feeling of outmost disgust to sincere loyalty and admiration. Adoration and love to fatal disappointment.

Well I do too.

Ecole active Bilingue had never seem as foreign and as welcoming until today.
I decided to leave my warm bed and be a guest amongst the icy club of Paris' still morning air temperature. A rush of hesitation flushed over me distrusting my good intentions.

I had agreed to accompany a friend in getting a necessary document.

The security man, I believe peacefully complaining his boring job to himself, was surprised to see us coming back, and the three of us suddenly became the world's greatest best friends.
We entered through the main steps, not the narrow cold pieces of can we climbed up and down before 6 months ago, but the main, red-carpeted wooden stairs, elegantly decorated along with the chandelier and mirors.

Mr. Taylor welcomed us first and asked us almost instantly if the tsunami affected our families. Through that, I met a couple of teachers that were passing through and held brief conversations with what and how I'm doing.
The tension rose when he asked the purpose of our visit and misunderstood- calling the Counselor and mentioned my name.
Okay, I know my English is a little rusty, but me wanting to meet the Counselor?

He has GOT to be kidding.

I'm safely in a school, after going through the minimum amount of migrane I can cause to myself and others. Let alone giving him one.
However as he closed the door behind him I was amazed at how much the unconscious me took over and I managed to handle a decent conversation.
I think the hardest thing about being polite is the eye contact.
You have to look at the person in the eye, but you are not allowed to stare.
Already, I think Business Communication class is doing me some good ;-)

He reminded us that we are always going to be a part of the family community of EaB-vh, and that it's always great to meet past graduates and hear from them.
He was rather surprised of my final decision to study in Paris since he remembered that it was a crucial aspect that I hadn't decide.
He also kindly mentioned if I could speak at the coming graduation this year. I kindly hesitated, but we'll see.

From Victor Hugo we walked to Spontini (I was suppose to have class there), and parted our separate ways. I was early (and thankful for it) and realized that my class was mentioned to be held in the Victor Hugo building.

As I walked, dots of snow trickled down gently and disolved when touching the ground.