Has my roommate really been far as decided to use even go want to do look more like?

Don't worry if you don't understand the title, old people. It's a *young hip internet* thing.

So...yeah. I don't know if it's because I'm tired, don't speak much French or had too much wine but...my roommate's really confusing. She kept asking me if I wanted to go have some dinner (in French) and I was like, 'Sure...? We just met but sure...?' Then she left without me. Then she came back a few minutes later and said something about how she would pay with her special debit card? And I said, 'Okay, um...just let me use the bathroom first.' So I did, and when I came back to the room she was talking on her cell, apparently discussing her debit card with her boyfriend (I'm not sure what the deal is. It just looks like a card). So I fiddled with my computer while she talked, and when I heard her finish, I looked over and she was asleep.

What.

Seriously, I was so confused. Now I've sort of just accepted the weirdness of the universe and realized how funny it actually was. She's either got short term memory loss or is, like, REALLY high.

Anyway, this weirdness is all taking place at the hostel in Nimes, which besides all the stoned roommates is actually an awesome place. It's a twenty minute slog up a hill, but so worth it. It's very cozy and friendly and a nice sort of bohemian reprieve from the usually clinical hostels I've been staying at. The guy at the front desk is an older British guy with a mohawk and a bunch of tattoos, and he's super keen on helping people out. Also, there's lots of good cheap food, 'good' being the adjective I am excited about. I've had plenty of cheap food in the past little while, mostly in the vein of crackers, Brie cheese and drinkable yogurt. It was nice to finally eat something hot again.

I don't know why I'm tired, but I am. I spent all day on trains coming from Amsterdam, with only a brief hour's reprieve in the Gare de Lyon in Paris. I spent the first three-hour train ride finishing The Girl Who Played With Fire (not because there was nothing else to do; it was because once I started I couldn't stop). At Gare du Nord, I met a girl from Milan on her way home through Paris who spoke zero French and could not figure out the Metro ticket machine. We were both going to Gare de Lyon, so I guided her through the Parisian public transit system, and then bought her a pain au chocolat while we waited for our trains. So, I felt good about that. It was weird to know more about Paris than someone who lives so close to it. I always assumed that if you lived in Europe you knew everything there was to know about Paris, I don't know, by proxy or something. It's like instinct; Europeans just know how to deal with Paris, right?

Silly Canadians.

Anyway, I don't know why all that is important. I just felt like writing, I guess. Dad, if you read this, I'm going to the Pont du Gard soon, I promise. I will take lots of pictures.