I blame UANT for sending me to Paris, France on false pretenses. Yes, they gave me a free camara, yes they paid some of my expenses, but I wouldn't have gone if I didn't become entranced by two songs played at the Icebox in the past, at concerts I didn't even go to but listened to the recording of online. The first song was by Abba and it was called "Our Last Summer" or something. It was so romantic and bittersweet that I fell in love with the idea of going to Paris. I also saw the video for a song by Jimmy Buffett called "He went to Paris". In the song, a guy goes to Paris and finds himself, and that is what I wanted to do. But when I got there what happened? First when the airport taxi man saw where my apartment was, he started shaking his head and said something like, "Yuer ooniversitie set uuu oop wizz zizz?" Or something. How rude that was! I was so tired, and couldn't help it, I just snapped at him and said, "get me over there NOW! Can't you ZEE I'm tired- and you are wasting the meter on purpose!" When we got there, I asked him why we went to Spain (the people were, I thought, Spanish) but he said we were still in Paris in a rude way, and that "these people" were Arabs. It was so clear he didn't approve of them as people, and I was offended beyond belief. His tone was SO rude! I got out and slammed the door and said, "I'm GLAD I live with the Arabs!" I went in my building and went to sleep. When I got up and went exploring, I found that Paris was NOT romantic. How could French people treat the non-French, like the Arabs and me, like this? My neighbors were threatening because they were angry, and so was I. Finally in November, everybody went crazy. People started flipping over the oppressor's police cars and yelling all over the place. I just hid, cheering them on, and the next day, everything was charred up. I told my friend Veronique, who came to see if I was okay, all about it at a cafe. I was finally in a cafe! I told her how everything was steaming in the morning, just like the Tesla Plant in Antarctica. She said she wanted to visit me at UANT. This was the best part of the trip. We really connected, and we drove all over Paris in the Metro, until I got caught stamping the same ticket twice, I hated that conductor, a true agent of the oppressor. But by night, more police came again to my neighborhood. More cars were put on fire and I just watched in amazement. France is an amazing country to set fires in and break things in. I didn't want to leave, although the people at the Sorbonne were not too friendly- they did understand my friends' anger like I did. Sadly, in December came my last night. I guess God agreed with me about that original cab driver, because he dropped off someone at the next building over, and I saw it from my window. He carried in the peoples' bags and didn't come out for a long time. I remembered how much I hated that oppressor. It got dark and no one was around, there was a curfew, and so I snuck downstairs and out the door, I opened the unlocked door of the cab and poured petroleum on the seats... and I lit that damn cab right on fire! I really did it! I ran back into my building and peeked out the window for the whole rest of the night but no one even seemed concerned with that one last car!