November 8th

I made it to the post office. As GIR would say before self-destructing, "Finally!!!" I decided to go to the post on Cours de la Republique or the street that is perpendicular to my university. Good move too because both of my letters were sent. I even evaded a long queue of people too. Win-win for Mary. Afterwards was not such a win, but it wasn't my loss. No, Paula was the one who endured a very disturbing loss. While she was walking to university at ten in the morning, or something around that hour, she was stopped by two young boys. These boys were preteen aged or as we like to call them Youths. The two Youths asked Paula for the time so she took her phone out. Snatch. The little bastards nabbed her I-phone and ran away. Paula proceeded to yell at them in furious American styled English. They ran much faster. Poor Paula, although it's a phone it was a piece of her property. Having something stolen from you is a very naked or exposed feeling, violated really. All of us comforted her in our own ways. Some of our friends tried to calm her down, silly really. I encouraged her to be angry, let it all out. No use bottling energy like that. She followed my advice and the two of us decided that a good way to use energy is to go to a club. We hit Forty-One again and had bad luck there, again. This time though no one's purse was stolen on the dance floor. Oh no, this time someone maced the air. We have no idea who did it, but everyone thought that it was either me or Paula. The bouncers actually asked me to empty my pockets. They were a bit surprised to see keys and a pocket watch; sorry I'm not more terrifying. I honestly don't know who was able to smuggle mace into the club, but they probably had reason to use it. The only issue is that the club is built like a warehouse that is sealed on all sides. The problem? Well they couldn't vent the club meaning the mace cloud stayed in the room. It was impossible to breath, I actually received a large amount of the chemicals in my lungs, and therefore impossible to dance in there. Too bad, we hadn't used all of our energy up. Paula just wanted to go home which was understandable. I really do feel for my girl, life just spat bad luck all over her day. On the irritating bright side of things, at least tomorrow will be better.