Wherever You Go, There You Are

EWW

2008-08-05T09:57:00.001-07:00

Maroon 5 is quite possibly the worst band on the planet. UGH!

Joe's Apartment

2008-07-28T07:00:00.001-07:00

I live the movie.

Girl Crush #143

2008-07-14T06:10:00.000-07:00

Sweet hat + tie + red guitar= I want to marry and procreate with Leslie Feist.

Free show at Memorial Park (= Omaha impresses me, for the first time) last Saturday, and it was absolutely amazing.

Taco ride!

2008-07-11T08:12:00.000-07:00

This is awesome. Note for next time: bring own cooler of beer, stereo system, bug spray, and sun block on a trailer. And a bike that can switch to a gear higher than the first one. Thank you to the stranger bike mechanic that helped us out.

Oves It

2008-07-09T13:56:00.000-07:00

I'm just going to get over it. I wasn't going to update until I updated about my big trip through Eastern Europe. But then that was a task too-large to take on, especially since my journal entries are scattered and lack details (at best). Then I was going to just update on stuff after that, but the task became so daunting I finally gave up and now two months of my life (gasp) remains undocumented for those far away and looking for a tale or two. (Or I've spent the last two months watching precious Office episodes I've been missing overseas/at school and playing endless amounts of Rockband, and have been too lazy to update). Oves it.

Just wanted to say, www.couchsurfing.com is balls amazing and last night this guy stayed with me:http://walkamerica2008.blogspot.com/. He is way cooler than I am.

And I use a space heater at my desk. It is 90 degrees and 3000% humidity outside and I have a space heater running. A/C controller (wo)man in this building needs to get a god damned clue.

2008-05-05T06:14:00.000-07:00

Heeyyy long time no update.

I'm sitting at 12 Rue de Buci in Paris, France. We ended our long trip on Friday with a 14 hour-long bus ride back from Berlin and I have spent the entire weekend sleeping, taking breaks only to eat. I do not know how people manage to backpack for longer than a month. I had plenty of adventures in sleeping in strangers' homes, clocking more train time than I probably have in my entire life so far, eating my way through countries, meeting nice people, meeting crazy mean drunks, and so on. I did a shitty job of keeping my journal though so I'm trying to read notes and catch it up before I post any boring details and run-on sentences for the blog. I'll post more once I've got all the time in the world, sitting in my mom's badly lighted basement being all unemployed. Wooooo.

Tomorrow I leave for Chicago, it's completely unreal.

Oves it!

2008-04-09T08:54:00.000-07:00

Just pack up your suitcase again and make a hasty exit, just like you did the last few times. Sad goodbyes are SO last year.

I'm on the road again- I'll try and update along the way until I finally make it home...ish.

I'm Freaking Old (Soon)

2008-04-07T03:31:00.000-07:00

Oh my God. Even though you spend hours staring at your ceiling, learning guitar, reading books, drinking wine, standing in various phone booths talking to friends and family from home, staring at your ugly wall paper, planning, worrying, sleeping in, searching for train tickets, searching for bus tickets, hostels, travel partners, making new friends, sitting at cafés in random cities in countries talking about nothing and everything with said new friends, running your little heart out, staring out windows, teaching, drinking coffee, eating, eating, taking naps, eating, site seeing, avoiding the "sites," writing, should you go back to school?, should you do nothing?, are you cool with "doing nothing"?, getting bored enough to talk to yourself and make yourself laugh, speaking French, sitting, wandering, getting over things, missing people, missing people, missing people, thinking, relaxing, doing nothing-

It still goes so fast you have no idea what hit you. You just spent a year doing hardly anything and you have NO IDEA what just hit you. How's that for some drama and a really long run-on sentence?

My 23rd birthday is in three weeks and I'll be randomly spending it in Berlin with strangers (and Joanna mom, don't worry!) Rewind one year. My ex-boyfriend says he's gay, the current one says he's got no time for me (a.k.a. not into me anymore), I go try to be a flight attendant (yeah, I don't know either), I write that damn thesis and actually escape college on time, someone in the world dies and gives their liver to my little brother (thank you!), my best friend growing up has baby number two, I move to Chicago, wait, re-do, I move to France. I think the only thing I had some advance warning of was that stupid paper I had to write. My point is I've been rolling with it, which I suppose is how you're supposed to do it, non? If you'd have told me one year ago that I (and everything/everybody else) would still be okay (and even happy?) and I would be spending my birthday in Berlin with strangers, I'd have told you to get the fuck out of here. (Half jokingly, of course).

I'm Freakin' Outta Here

2008-04-02T03:22:00.000-07:00

Cut electricty- check!
Stop insurance- check!
Close bank account- check! (Awww yeah, can't WAIT to have all those sweet Euros transferred to my American account, MO MONEY).
Appointment with landlord to move out- check! (Now, how to figure out how to hide all the shit I broke...)
Plan my LAST lessons of the year- check!
Train ticket OUT of Carentan- check!
Plane ticket to Chicago- check!

Doing this all in French was painful, but it feels soooo good to have it all done. I'm going to wait until the 5th of May to get all depressed about leaving though... maybe I'll be back!

Normandy Trip

2008-04-01T07:21:00.000-07:00

Happy April! One year ago today my Thyme and Rosemary plants sprouted. Whoa, that was one year ago.

This past weekend I made a last attempt to see some more of this country before I leave it. One of the teachers here that I help with English invited to see where he grew up, and it ended up being a trip along the whole North Coast, we saw: Troarn, Dives-sur-Mer, Cabourg, Honfleur, Deauville, Beuvron-en-Auge, Pointe du Hoc, Pont L'Eveque and finally Bayeux (I have lived 20 minutes from Bayeux for the last 7 months and have just assumed it was like Carentan and therefore haven't visited before now, which I now feel very stupid for). I'd been to a couple of those places in high school, but I had a hard time remembering which until I'd been to them again. When I think of French villages, THESE places are what I imagine, not Carentan, and honestly I started to get a little upset towards the end of the weekend that I hadn't been sent somewhere better. Mais bon. All the houses aren't built "en colombage" which I do not know the word for in English but it looks like this.

Friday night I went to a French high school basketball game- they sucked. But what I do like about school sports here is that they are clubs, nothing like American high school sports with it's cheerleaders and school band and clics and favorism and rivalries and blah blah blah etc.

The next day, Jérôme and I walked through the markets in Dives (held in a stable-looking thing built in the 1300's), and he bought me some Pont L'Eveque cheese and some tergougne. (That is probably spelled completely wrong, but suffice it to say it is a delicious Normand dessert specialty made out of rice, sugar, milk, and cinnamon). Afterward, we picked up his daughter, and we all went to all those cities mentioned above. We walked along the beaches, the cobblestone streets, down the narrow passages between all those houses built "en colombage." It RAINED most of the time, because this is spring, in Normandy, but it wasn't cold so it was a nice weekend. That night Jérôme and I went out to one of his favorite restaurants in his home town called Le Belle Epoque and ate like total "gourmands" (i.e. pigs, but termed à la française to be more polite).

On Sunday we went to Pointe Du Hoc with both of his daughters. On the way back to my place we made a special stop in Bayeux to buy candy - Carambars and other various Haribo yummities, and ended up staying for an hour walking around. It is not much bigger than Carentan but it has so much more as far as food, shops, and things to do go. Ahhh, tant pis.

Ahh yes so there. In other news- I have bought my ticket home and I will be on American soil the 6th of May. Until then, I spend the next week and a half figuring out how to move out of my apartment, and the following 3 weeks wandering around parts of Europe. I'm spending my birthday in Berlin!

Americanos' Visits, 'Lil Updates

2008-03-25T02:07:00.000-07:00

Ah and so I survived Easter weekend in France. Which means instead of just one of the infamous “Sundays in France” to deal with, I had two, as Monday after Easter meant that everything in town was to remain shut, and therefore I was to remain shut in my apartment the entire three days. The weather in Normandy has been shit since the beginning of March, with strong winds and the occasional hail, not permitting trips to the sea by bike, and barely permitting grocery shopping by bike. On a semi-related note, I regret to inform my three readers, that I never did run that half marathon. Weeks before the race I got up to 6.8 miles, but training was interrupted by Morocco, and finally Jordan’s visit. Without the goal in sight, I’ve basically become the laziest human alive and I haven’t run since the beginning of March. I’ll pick it up again this week…. Er… maybe I will, anyway. I think I will try to run the race in Chicago this fall, that is, if I’m not back in France, or in Korea, or in Austin, Texas, or that little independent state in Italy… San Marino I think it’s called? writing a children’s book and watering my cactus plant.

Since I last wrote, many of my American amigos have come to pay me a visit in the motherland. Jordan kissed me hello at the airport, a gesture that after 6 months of not seeing him and 6 months of oh-my-god-what-if-he-kisses-me-at-the-airport-what-are-we-who-is-he-what-am-i-doing-what-if-this-goes-bad anxiousness, told me to just shut up and enjoy. Rachel kissed a French boy her first day in Paris, we’ve guessed somewhere around the Marais, in an old apartment building, while he was at work delivering packages. Joe might’ve kissed someone, and Adrienne too, but I guess I wouldn’t know about it yet because JOE DECIDED TO VISIT ME FOR TWO DAYS AND THEN SEE THE REST OF EUROPE, LAME! Jordan spent his first hours in France getting his Ipod stolen, Rachel spent her first few hours in France at the Chatelet metro stop, the exact stop I told her not to go to because it would be far too stressful with her bags, Joe spent his first few hours in France… well, being well-dressed. Jordan and I visited all the sights but went inside hardly any of them- not even the Eiffel Tower- but I totally preferred to spend out last night in Paris singing lame 90s songs together in our hostel bed that smelled more like an ash tray. My ideas of romance are probably twisted and backwards though. Rachel, Joe, Adrienne, and I all visited the Paris sights as well. Joe and I recreated a picture of us taken three years ago under the Eiffel Tower, and Rachel entertained us to no end with her transition lenses (poor girl lost her contacts the first night in Paris at couchsurfing lady’s house). Jordan passed the time in Carentan eating Bounties and cooking me breakfast before I left for work. Rachel wandered around Carentan eating baguettes (one of her goals for the trip). Joey and Adrienne got to sleep on my cold, hard, tile floor. Jordan and I shared a twin bed. Rachel and I shared a twin bed. Conclusion: I hate twin beds and when the fuck am I going to escape this student/nomad/impoverished lifestyle, grow up and get a job, and get a real bed? Jordan and I parted in a stressful, heartbreaking scene in the customs line of Terminal 2 of Charles De Gaulle Airport, of which I was literally pushed out of by an airline worker-lady. (What a betch). Joey, A, and I parted in my dingy Carentan apartment as I left them for work, and they left me for Rome. Rach and I finally parted at Carentan train station, at 6:20am, after hoofing it (yes it’s a five minute trip, but still) in the 45mph winds and drizzle to get there. I am so sick of goodbyes. All in all, besides the American cold my precious Rachel and Joe brought me (thanks, fuckers!) their trips were fun and happy and made me a little homesick for familiar faces that love me enough to make the 4,000 mile trip (or for familiar faces that love me enough, period).

My time here is coming to an end, and I kind of feel numb. I’m not sure whether I’d consider anything I’ve done here a success, or whether I’m happy or sad I’m leaving, or whether I’ll come back, or whether I’d even want to. I have a feeling I’m only going to be able to reflect on it from the outside, once I’m home, weeks or maybe months later. For now I’m distracted enough with the boring yet complicated enough logistics of moving out of this town and country and back into my old one, and planning my last attempt at seeing different parts of this continent before I’m back in Walmart and McDonalds land- Krakow, Budapest, Vienna, Zagreb, Split- here I come!

Morocco!

2008-03-23T02:03:00.000-07:00

Um so yeah, I haven’t actually needed all this time to process Morocco, but continuing adventures have left little time to update, I suppose. I was in Morocco for a week, which was not enough time to explore but was far too long to describe everything in one post. For this purpose, I think I shall make a Top 5ish/Bottom 5ish list, eh?

Morocco Top 5
The morning prayer
Cacahuettes guy
Pat Murphy
The Castle Made of Sand
Land of 1001 cats
FOOD
Camels

Morocco Bottom 5
Markets
Bein’ a lady
Bein’ White
Thomas

The morning prayer. Or prayer in general. Morocco is a Muslim country. They pray 5 times a day and these prayers are broadcasted over the loudspeakers throughout the city. Our first day in Essaouira at lunch time, we saw people hearding to one of the near-by mosques. In Marrakech, during the late afternoon, we saw a man pull out a mat and kneel facing East, outside on one of the busiest boulevards in the city. That morning, around 6am, as we walked to the bus station in the dark, the whole city sung its routine prayer together. I have to admit being spooked, but it sounded so eerie and beautiful to my Western ears.

The Cacahuettes guy. One afternoon towards the end of our trip, we came upon a local dive bar (despite alcohol being basically illegal, it was filled with locals and expat-types). We drank the Moroccan beer, Flag, for 17dh a piece (less than 2 Euros). The building was built on the beach, and we sat in the open-air part, so close to the sea that at high tide, the waves splash into the bar. At this point I had already met my English-speaking counterparts. We sat at this bar together, mostly silent, staring out into the dreary but peaceful waves of the Atlantic. A very small old man walked in and started singing, and I’m still not sure whether or not he was singing actual words. At the end of his song however, he would kind of screech CACAHUETTES!! (French for peanuts) while handing everyone a warm peanut with an energetic, beaming, and toothless smile. I think this was our sample, and it was convincing enough for everyone to shell out the necessary dirham to get a table covered in warm peanuts to go with our cold beer.

Pat Murhpy. At said local dive bar, I met an Irishman named Pat Murphy. Pat Murhpy has a long, nicotine-stained beard down to his chest and glasses that make his eyes really big, like the kid in that one movie, A Christmas Story. He looks about 65 but I bet he’s much younger, and just looks older because of the life he’s led (or the life I choose to imagine he’s led). He’s an artist in Waterford, and has made his trek from Ireland, through Spain, and finally to Morocco alone to work. When I ask what he paints, “paper” is the answer I get. Instantly in love with this old smart ass, we get to talking about how small the world actually is, coincidence, his exposition in Cuba, life, etc. Our conversation is short, but I leave with his family’s address in Ireland, a kiss on each cheek, and the inspiration to keep wandering.

The Castle Made of Sand. There is a small village just next to Essaouira that used to be some kind of hippy commune. Artists, writers, musicians, and nomads alike lived there until it got too crazy and they were kicked out… or shut down… so I’m told. (I read something like this in one of my guide books, and I was told repeatedly while I was in Essaouira so I am kind of buying the global story, though I know zero details). Anyway, the ruins of an old Portuguese fort remain in the sea, though at this point in looks like a big rock and you can only believe it actually used to be a building up-close, when you can see the remains of stairs and windows. Legend has it, Jimi Hendrix wrote his Castle Made of Sand about this rock, though he apparently didn’t come to Essaouira until years after the song was written. At any rate, that is that village’s claim to fame. Despite the dreary Moroccan weather of February, we ventured out to climb the rock during the rising tide (and nearly got trapped there after only like 5 minutes… the water comes in so fast)! Afterward we spent a few hours on the beach, climbing sand dunes and bodysurfing in the icy water.

Land of 1001 cats. And dogs, but who cares, am I right? I don’t know why they have such a crazy stray animal problem in Morocco, it reminded me of Rome (which supposedly has all the stray cats because they used to have a rat problem so they sent the cats after the rats and the rats all died but then the cats all banged each other and voila, cat problem, but I digress). The cool thing though, is that I never saw dead animals in the road, I never saw them being shooed, and although some of them looked kind of mangy, there seemed to be some kind of respect paid towards them by people. Therefore there were lots of pretty cats everywhere to pet.

FOOD. By my first morning in Morocoo, in Casablanca, I was already impressed by the food. That morning and every morning after, I had fresh-squeezed orange juice and this greasy delicious bread that I never caught the name of, but it is a lot like Nan and you cover it with Moroccan honey. DELICIOUS. I had my share of couscous, tajhines, cinnamon oranges, mint tea, and things made with orange and argan oils. What was impressive was that it was always local and actually cooked, omg, fresh food. Which is what was surprising each time I paid for my food, because it was also so cheap. All the amazing spices and fresh food is definitely worth the week straight of diarrhea Western bowels are inevitably to experience.

Camels. Camels are quite possibly the coolest animals to walk on the planet, and there they are, in place of donkeys pulling carts, giving rides to tourists, or just roaming around on the beach in Essaouira, like stray dogs.

Bottom 5
The souks. Or markets. Or crazy labyrinth of huts where people hassle you at every turn to buy their (insert here: leather items, wooden items, spices, tea, tea services, jewelry, restaurant services, massage services, fresh food, hash, henna tattoos, etc.) Everything is cheap despite it being priced at around 12 times its value, meaning if you are in the mood to haggle you can usually knock at least 50% off of the original price and everyone is still happy. But one can barely (you can’t at all, actually) walk through the markets and admire the smells and sounds and energy of the place without being bombarded by “hello miss! Bonjour! You speak English? You is French? Please come, I show you something very special! Special price for you because you are pretty!! Excusez-moi, miss, une minute!” I rarely stopped to even look at things, just to avoid spending 5 minutes saying no and trying to leave. It’s true that the souks in every town are exciting and impressive, but they are stressful and irritating to anyone seeking quiet, rest, or alone time.

Bein’ a lady. In Morocco. Sucks. At least being used to my own standards, it does. At first I was afraid to even walk around alone. But when the question of whether or not I would run the half marathon still existed, and after I was assured that Essaouira was perfectly safe, I decided to venture out alone for a jog on the beach. The weather was perfect and the sun was setting, and had I not been sporting my set of boobs and head full of long hair, it might have been the perfect run. But since women rarely leave the house without a scarf covering their hair or without being in groups of at least two (it sounds ignorant to generalize, but this is exactly why I felt like I stuck out…) it was 10 minutes of cat calling and following me before I felt too uncomfortable to keep going and I headed back to my hotel. Boooooo, for having a vagina in a Muslim country.

Bein’ white. In Morocco. Also sucks. It means you are instantly rich and you can give everyone all the money they ask for even if in reality you are in loads of loan and credit card debt only technically surviving because the French have been so gracious as to let you have their free healthcare and live off of their welfare. It’s even worse if they see your American passport. My travel goal this year was to escape Western Europe, to see something completely new. Only in Casablanca did I ever feel unsafe and scared, but the entire trip left me feeling so completely out of place, which had me feeling homesick for my momma, if not that then at the very least, France.

Thomas. If you go to Morocco, don’t go with your French “friend” that you barely know and who even in small doses kind of irritates the shit out of you. The only thing that saved this trip was towards the end when we spent a day completely on our own, and I met some English speakers to give me a rest. Before I met them, I couldn’t help but think how much more fun the trip could have been with Joanna, Joe and Rach, Jordan, or ANYONE ELSE, for that matter.

Afrique du Nord

2008-02-26T12:27:00.000-08:00

Still processing that whole Morocco thing. Update to come.

Petites Nuances

2008-02-14T05:20:00.000-08:00

In France they eat pigs and turkeys. In America they eat cows and chickens.

In American teachers' lounges there are coke machines. In French ones, there are 10 buzzed-on-champagne professors cleaning up the mess from lunch and having a sing-a-long to Edith Piaf.

I love it here.

The French Vagina Doctor

2008-02-13T04:23:00.000-08:00

Don't go. It's scary. Oh man and I thought my chest x-ray was violating...

2008-02-08T04:30:00.000-08:00

I got a haircut. When she cut my bangs I just stared at the mirror in disbelief. I look like a 5 year old boy. A word to anyone planning on getting thur hurr did in France any time in the future: if you say you want it a certain way the lady will say "okay" and show you 10 pictures of haircuts that do not look like how you want it, and she will ask you if you like those instead. You will say no, but she will pretty much have her way with your hair. Instead of scraping together all of the French vocabulary in your brain in order to squeeze out a few retardly-incorrect sentences about hair, (or maybe you just said horses, or knights, who the hell knows), give up, try this: "Allez-y, amusez-vous bien." It's just easier, and you get the same result in the end. ALSO- if you want her to do anything else to your hair BESIDES Edward Scissorhands-it (thanks for the expression Jo), such as add a spot of gel in those ugly little boy bangs so they are hidden and swept off to the side instead of out in the open, making you look like a little boy- it will cost you approximately double. It will cost you triple if you want her to do that AND use some electricity to blow dry it first.

I found some actual, worthwhile work in Omaha this morning that I wouldn't be too big of a snob to take- at least for the summer. I think I will apply- it is good money, more teaching experience, and I would be finished by August allowing me to peace out to wherever if need be. The fact that work like that might exist for me puts my mind at ease a bit.

Sarah sent me a cat tank top and a beautiful picture of us in an old beat up Aldo box, and I received it last night. I loved it. I miss my French cats so much- I hope they realize how important they still are to me. Anyway, it was really adorable, she included like 4 letters with different dates- so much like me. Way to finally get it to the post office. I hope we all get our shit together and reunite in Europe de l'Est in April.

I have to go teach some Bob Dylan to my baby Frenchies now.

GO ENGLISH TEACHING!! WOOOO!!! YEAH!

2008-02-05T03:39:00.001-08:00

I just finished doing a debate with one of my classes. Terminale. (High school seniors). These students have been taking English since the 5th grade, some earlier. They have already studied written text on smoking. They have opinions on the new law in France, I KNOW they do, because every French person does. Debates are typically done at the end of a unit when students have enough vocabulary to talk about the subject and formulate arguments and such. So that's what I've been doing with these classes, and today was my last one (and as it turns out- thank FUCKING JESUS FOR THAT).

For high school debates in France, students are ASSIGNED sides so that nobody is forced to give their real opinions. Everyone knows it is just an exercise, it is just practice. And honestly- I'm not an expert and I'm not looking for anything terribly impressive, I just ask them to argue with each other IN ENGLISH for 15 minutes, after 20 minutes to prepare. 20 minutes! To ask me how to say things! To look in a dictionary!

*Sigh...* I won't use names even though I know if this student ever came across this blog she would be too fucking lazy and stupid (oh yes, I went there, completely IGNORANT) to even try to read it. Mouahahahahaha.... you should have learned ENGLISH, bitch.

I suppose it doesn't help that high school seniors are 18-19 years old (and actually in THIS PARTICULAR student I'm pretty sure is repeating a year and thus is 20). And I am 22. So I have zero authority or credibility.

So here's how that went down. If you pick the hand with something in it, you are AGAINST. *Student picks hand, her team is against.* Totally random assigning. It's not like I had it out for this poor student. Student raises her hand and asks me, IN FRENCH "um, excuse me m'am, but I am a smoker, I can't debate for the side of the law." I respond, IN ENGLISH, "oh that is okay, this is just an exercise, there are plenty of arguments for both sides, it is more important to speak English, okay?" I get shot a dirty look, followed by (IN FRENCH) "BUT NO! All three of us smoke though, we can't find arguments, I am AGAINST the law!" I respond, IN ENGLISH, "Yes I know, that is okay, actually that might be better because then you can think of what the other team might say and it will be easier for you to argue against them! Okay? It's not a big deal, it is just an exercise in speaking English." During 20 minutes of preparation, stupid baby non-English learning ignorant smokerpantslady decided to doodle stars on her paper and gossip in French while ONE PERSON in her group, (a smoker! gasp!), did all of the work.

During the debate, bitchy smoker frenchie cuntface did NOT participate, said she AGREED with the opposing team everytime they made an argument, and asked the opposing team to repeat IN FRENCH everytime they said something. (Um, the main rules of the debate is that everyone must speak, and there is zero French, or it is an automatic loss).

So that lesson failed. I suck at teaching but SERIOUSLY what is SO DIFFICULT about what they had to do? (When the other three sections who did it, did it well, in English, without complaining?) I have a feeling (and I doubt I'm that terribly wrong to assume) that this girl treats the rest of her classes like she treats mine. Have fun staying in Carentan for the rest of your life seeing nothing, doing nothing, becoming NOTHING.

Annnnnnd..... I'm done. It's sunny out! Woot.

Geneva, Randoms

2008-02-05T01:42:00.000-08:00

SOOORRRR-Y, Mom.

So Lyon was very cool, and I went to Geneva before I came back to Carentan. Geneva is BEAUTIFUL. It's right on the lake and it's nestled in the mountains (the pretty snow-capped kind). Joanna and I visited this archaeological site underneath this church- ruins from Jesus times or whatever. The beginnings of the city, tons of history, I have to give it credit and say it was cool because it was but... booorrriinnngg. I think I'm bored of sightseeing, a hike in those awesome mountains would have been cooler. I had more fun providing an alternative to the British-accented commentary on the site for Joanna. We then visited the United Nations buildings- which admittedly, the grounds and the buildings are nothing special. BUT- the complexity of that organization and the fact that Mr. Moon himself was visiting the next day was cool. If I ever learn French, I'd totally sit up in one of those little translator boxes! *Sigh...* I bought some Swiss truffles for a friend, as a gift, and promptly ate most of them. (Our train was TWO HOURS late on the way home, I was starving, AND I shared with a lady who later told me "you make me laugh when I am angry, that is good!"... so I have a hard time feeling guilty about eating all of said friend's truffles. I saved ONE.

I've since returned to Carentan and settled back in. Yesterday I ran 5 miles without dying- and I got really pumped at the idea that maybe I could run the half marathon in less than a month. But it is probably a bad idea. I already told myself no but perhaps I will impulsively decide to run it the morning-of. I am really going to miss running around the port- especially the days when it is sunny and there are boats and kayaks out on the water. Yesterday during my long-ass run (it took me about an hour) I was thinking of all the women I miss and how I wish I could take walks with them on that path. (Maybe if I'm back next year they can visit?) My face is still super fat- I don't even know where that is coming from. Monk month was semi-successful. Meaning, I blew it twice while I was in Lyon but I've already tacked on a few extra days for that. I win that game. I still love my students. I can't say they are really making enormous progress- but then again I don't really know how to evaluate that. I usually have fun in my classes- but I HATE planning lessons. (Mostly because I'm just not good at it so it stresses me out). We just finished units on show and tell, new years resolutions, the smoking ban in France, and travel in some of my classes and now I'm doing units on superheroes, "resistance", and cosmetic surgery. WOOT. I'm still playing guitar- though it's usually only about 2 lessons a month since I've started so that mixed with my musical ineptness progress is slow. And my fingertips are nasty. The woman I lived with during my study abroad finally wrote me back, it was such a happy surprise. I should probably try to meet up with her in Paris for lunch or something sometime soon.

I've started to seriously think about life after coming home. And it stresses me the fuck out. I've turned in my contract renewal papers- and if I get a yes to come back to France, I will need to stay in Omaha to work and save money (with no car, no cell phone, an approximate total of 2 friends that I still have contact with, and no real job prospects to make the money I need to save). I also applied for a job somewhere else and had a phone interview and it sounds like it will pretty much be a for sure thing if I decide it's what I want around June or July. Um. But it is in Korea. Or I can just decide that I've gotten the ants out of my pants and I'm ready to go back to Chicago and find a big-girl job. Buy some lamps and some dishes or something. All these coversations with myself may just be pointless at any rate, since plane tickets home are CRAZY expensive. There is a possibility I will be stranded in Europe fooorrreeevvveerr. Oh and does anyone know how to do taxes from France? I can't wait to figure that one out!

I am leaving for Morocco in less than two weeks- SUN. HAMMAMS. MOUNTAINS. BEACHES (and jogs on them). MINT TEA. People who are prettier and darker than me. Arabic. I plan on doing nothing but reading my book, napping, people watching, writing in my journal, and occasionally hiking, surfing, and/or running. I do not plan on thinking, worrying, planning, or keeping in touch with anyone.

Lyon

2008-01-21T05:36:00.000-08:00

I just went for one of the coolest jogs of all time. The friend I am staying with in Lyon is a fellow assistant and she works all day today. And although running in unfamiliar cities alone intimidates me, I didn't want to stay cooped up all day either. So I figured I'd combine sightseeing with my exercise and ran through the nearby park, Parc de la Tete D'Or. So I'm running and I'm running, and there's a lake and some bridges and it's beautiful despite it being a cloudy day... I'm pretty scared that I'm going to get lost in the cold but I'm like whatever Rachel, it's going to be fine despite your complete lack of direction. It was energizing to run in this gorgeous, new place. So I saw this gate, and then I saw a green house, and then right as I was back to my starting place, about three miles later, I saw a lion. And a tiger. Apparently this park has lions and tigers, and when you're not expecting to see more than a couple of pigeons, I believe that warrants stopping your jog to give that a good, "What the fuck?! Amazing!!!" before you move on. Which is what I did. I can't believe ms. fellow assistant failed to tell me there were lions in this park. Lions. With manes. Pacing.

Lyon is cool. After living with the cows, seeing a tram and some people crossing the street can make me think anywhere is cool. The first day I was here we walked through Vieux Lion, which can be compared to the Latin Quarter in Paris I guess, only way less stressful because there are fewer tourists. We went to a bar on a boat somewhere on the river, which was cool until it was like night-o-70s-funk-dance-party-with-the-French-time. That sounds way cool but don't be fooled. Two songs into the Jackson 5 and I'm good for the night, actually.

Yesterday we spent the day recovering from the night before, and we spent the night planning our trip through Eastern Europe- which takes a LOT of research and planning in order to see as much as we want to see in only two weeks. I hate traveling like that- spending two days in one city of the country and then moving on- but we just don't have enough time here to do better.

Tomorrow we're heading to Geneva. Wooooot, UN.

Lyon, France. Geneva, Switzerland.

2008-01-17T10:05:00.000-08:00

I'm going to those places. From Saturday until Thursday. Guess I'm washing some undies in the sink tonight. Wooo!

La pluie!

2008-01-16T06:46:00.000-08:00

Carentan can be kind of beautiful when it's raining.

Dig it, parental units

2008-01-15T01:45:00.000-08:00

I got my contract renewal papers yesterday to re-do a year in the Académie de Caen (and not neccessarily Carentan again), and I feel like I felt the entire month of June last year. Do I really want to bother with the huge amounts of paperwork and stress to hang out in France for another year? Maybe a second year would get it out of my system at last. But it would be nice to go home and buy a mattress and some dishes and make somewhere a semi-permanent home for a while too. I think I've already accomplished what I set out to in coming here, but if I go home and miss it will I regret not taking the chance to stay? Boooooo decision-making.

Last week would have technically been my first week back to work. But most of my teachers were still on vacation, or ill from vacation, so 7 of my 13 hours were cancelled. It's cool, I finished two books and learned a new song on the guitar. And I ate nearly two bags of Reese's. I'd call it a pretty successful week.

This week it's back to work (for real this time), and today I've been given a song by Pink to start a conversation on the upcoming US elections. You have to be fucking kidding me. This should definitely go smoothly, not.

Brief January Updates: I'm starting this new thing where I wake up at 5am for no good reason. The dogs are still shitting all over my front "yard" read: front "rocks". I'm running again after a little set-back due to vacation, but I'm probably not going to be able to run the race in March. Thomas tried to back out of Morocco but after a little sass on my part and a dog-sitter on his, we are still going. Jordan is coming to France. Joe is coming to France. Rachel is coming to France. I felt really thin for like three days, only to realize later that it was because I wore fat pants for three days (thanks for the new PJs, mom!) I applied for jobs in Korea, Mexico, Taiwan, Chicago, and Omaha and I haven't gotten any replies yet (except from the one in Omaha- REJECTED!) I'm doing monk month without my monk month partner-which was to cut out everything that a monk wouldn't do but really got simplified into no drinking- and so far so good. On February 2nd I get to binge drink again, woot! I got this zit on my face that made my ENTIRE face swell- only making me ever more attractive. My mom turned 45 and it made me feel old. I got my sweet-ass welfare check. Go socialist France! (Hello trip to Morocco and haircut after 8 months!) New neighbor friend, André, who knocks on door daily and has baby momma drama. I decided to be really obsessed with New Order this month, but gave up after a day because I don't really like most of their music. Everyone I went to high school with is or is getting married, makes me feel old. My brother's hemo is up and he's doing well. I feel a little homesick, but not sure for where- just miss my family and friends I guess. I spent 40€ on cell phone credit and used it in 3 days on accident- I'm currently punishing myself with no cell phone use until the end of the month. (Um, except 5€ worth of texting that I bought). Meh. An Eastern Europe tour is in the works for April 12-28. Stephanie told me we only have 11 weeks left, what? If I ever have children, ever, they are going to a dual-language school.

Voilà, my fans (i.e. mom and dad).

2008-01-03T06:15:00.000-08:00

Hey dudes. I wrote this really long reflective end-of-the-year type blog and then had no internet to upload it.... maybe someday.

I'm still on my vacation in Paris... back to work Tuesday. The quote for now is me: "I'm really worried".... Joanna: "drink your wine."

That's how it should always be. Update when I get home. (I just called Carentan home, and I think it will feel like it when I get there).

Update

2007-12-17T02:29:00.000-08:00

A note to me from one of my students:

"Rest in the course of last Friday where my behaviour was unpleasant, I held to excuse me for the chatter at repetition. What's more, I engage me from today the Friday November 30th to respect the English module and to avoid the chatter. Sincere greetings."

Oh man, I don't even know where to start with this one English-wise. Clearly I'm not making that big of an impact on their English skills. It made me giggle though and he really has been behaving since then. The job is going alright. Luckily I enjoy it, because I am pretty sure I'm terrible at it. My students tend to be apathetic and lazy, but I keep trying to remember that they are teenagers. Who gives a shit about the 2nd amendment, eh? Doesn't affect them in Carentan, France, population 7,000.

Speaking of being the greatest English teacher known to man, I've also been teaching useful phrases to Rosana such as: "Gettin' jiggy wit it," "more cushion for the pushin'," and what may be most important for her in the future, the difference between the words "suck" and "fuck."

On running- I'm back at it, with little pain so far. Yesterday was my first "long" run, at a mere 4 miles. But I did it without dying, or stopping to walk. It takes loads of time though, I'm not sure if my schedule can manage 6 mile runs, it's only daylight for about 8 hours here. I've found that the first 2 miles or so are hard (as in, I can't breathe and feel like I can't lift my legs) but after that I feel like I can keep going forever. The weather has been gorgeous, for December. We had a few weeks of 100kph winds (one day of which I made the mistaken decision of taking a 3 hour bike ride), but it doesn't snow and it hasn't gotten below 30 degrees. This is my kind of winter.

Baby momma drama. Thomas came over for lunch last week and afterward we decided we would go to a movie. Not 3 feet outside my apartment door did we see Caroline waiting for him. This is the third time she has done it, and I proceeded to watch a screaming argument between them in the streets of Carentan. In the end I decided to go back home and hang out with mySELF, since there's no drama involved there. I went to dinner with Caroline the next night (I was afraid of being knived but I didn't want to be the antisocial one) and told her that if things like that keep happening it's not worth the trouble of having a friend here. She said she'd try and make an effort and blah blah blah. We'll see.

Speaking of all of that, my trip to Morocco is official! February 17-24th I will be vaycaying in North Africa. The trip is super cheap, and I think we'll be able to see Casablanca and Marrakech at the very least. I'm currently struggling to read my travel guide in French, because I realized after booking the trip that I know zero about this country and I do not want to play the French tourist game. I am really excited. When we come back to Paris I plan to stay there for the rest of my vacation until my friend from the States visits. Which I am equally excited about.

Friday night Rosana and Stephanie and I are going out to dinner to do a small gift exchange and then I think we will rent a Christmas-y movie and make our second attempt at making spiced wine. I'm spending Christmas with Daniel's family, since they've invited me twice now and I was procrastinating on the decision. It should be nice. At the very least I plan on overeating (and overdrinking) foie gras, scallops, champagne, cakes, escargots, etc. I bought Daniel's wife 99 francs, a book she wanted to borrow from me and after I read and decided it was AWESOME, I got her her own copy. I got Daniel a copy of No Direction Home, a documentary about Bob Dylan that I'm pumped to watch as well. I'm hoping to escape the country the day after Christmas to see David in Paris, take a trip to Strausbourg with friends, and spend New Year's Eve in Paris.

I'm positive that more than this has happened to me since the last post. But I felt compelled to give a small update at the very least after my mom's 4:30am phone call to tell me that a simple email that says "hi" every once in a while isn't that hard. Sorry, mom!

My Make Believe Baby Jesus Bday List

2007-12-03T08:34:00.000-08:00

i.e. shit I will buy for myself when I get back to the states.

1. Prennez Soin de Vous by Sophie Calle
2. We Are the Night - Chemical Brothers
3. The Office seasons 1-3 (American version!)
4. A new Moleskine journal
5. Jogging pants
6. A Macbook ... and photoshop!
7. A cat!

Dear Rachel, Get OFF of Your Ass!

2007-12-03T02:33:00.000-08:00

So if I can motivate myself to run for a half an hour in rain and 45mph wind, I can motivate myself to write an essay for grad school before December 15th, right?

ça va mieux, ça va mieux

2007-11-28T02:23:00.000-08:00

I have been feeling alone and lethargic lately. And realizing that I am doing exactly what I want to be doing doesn't make me feel better, it makes me feel guilty and spoiled for feeling alone and lethargic. At any rate- after being called negative twice, in an attempt to figure out why things have felt different the past few weeks I realized there are two things that I have not done in about a week and a half: I have not written, and I have not gone running. So, I am making a better effort at doing both regularly. Starting last night I found a route to run when it is dark out, with lots of street lights and steady ground which means now I can run AFTER 5 pm. I also caught up my journal which I had neglected since November 11. So. This negative shit is over.

Plus, I received a package from my dear Rachel FULL of fun things. AND a package from Annie and Joe full of more happy things.

And- my brother- although still very sick- is making progress. He has gained weight, and he finally got his PIC line out.

And- the past two nights, two friends have called me to talk for a long time about anything, everything, and nothing.

Today I'm going to Caen instead of staying in bed all day reading to get some Christmas shopping done, and to visit some museums. I swear I'm staying away from that McDonalds though.

Paris... Sigh.

2007-11-26T03:59:00.000-08:00

Chemical Brothers live= Amazing. I caught epilepsy. Top three songs of the night in order: The Sunshine Underground, Surface to Air, Galvanize. And the crowd of Frenchies was impressively energetic and fun.

So I spent the weekend in Paris. I went to the concert with two of David's friends and stayed with one of them in the suburbs. My French is TERRIBLE. Even after two months, it is so disheartening.

On Sunday I went to Centre Pompidou and tried to cover parts of the museum that I rarely make it to. I saw this amazing piece by Christian Boltanski- whom I'd never even heard of- that was so incredible despite what it was. (I have no concept of art really, lack a creative bone in my body, and hate to judge it but love to hate that art that is like, "here is a pile of my crap, but since I call it art it IS," or that minimalist crap that is like, "here is an enormous canvas that I have painted all blue".... minimal, blah blah blah gross who cares, its lame.) At any rate this piece called "La Vie Impossible" was just a collection of things that made me feel SO melancholy afterward. My description of it will do it no justice but it was things like old notes, family pictures, phone bills, movie stubs, school pictures, pictures of half-naked lovers (those kind you take at the beginning, when you're still madly in love), blah blah etc. Basically things that mean nothing to anybody else, mundane things that prove your existence but once you are gone they are just crap that gets thrown away. It kind of reminded me of the montage at the end of Vanilla Sky. Or the movie Eternal Sunshine. Yum! Then I saw something by Sophie Calle- whom I've loved since the last time I was in France-that I've never seen before, called "La Douleur Exquise." Heartbreaking! Lovely!

After the museum I wandered around and found myself near the grands magasins Au Printemps and Les Galleries Lafayettes, which are all decked out for Christmas. The lights are so pretty and it was fun to see all the families out trying to get glimpses of the store windows. (This is comparable to Macy's in Chicago during Christmastime, but I'm pretty sure the crowd in Paris is FAR worse. I found myself pretty stressed out at times, wondering how these windows are really even worth it for these parents with their strollers and small children on their shoulders). I'm going to have to edit this post later, because I took pictures! God I miss living there. Carentan maintains its charm but nowhere can compare to Paris.

Speaking of Christmas- I don't think it's yet hit me that I will be spending it alone in a foreign country. (Well not SO foreign at this point, but you get me). As always I am procrastinating with plans and I risk making pasta and watching French gameshows on TV. December 28-30th I am going to Strausbourg, which I hear is amazing around the holidays because of the Christmas markets and decorations. So far c'est tout. I think I will spend the actual baby Jesus bday with Daniel and his family, and then get out of Carentan on the 26th... to... who knows where.

HAPPY THANKSGIVING EVERYONE!!!

2007-11-22T04:01:00.000-08:00

I miss my family and friends and wish I could come home for the weekend to overeat with them. And then take naps. And then dig into leftovers. And then take naps. I think I'd even like a nice family argument or something at the dinner table.

Tonight I make a nice turkey sandwich and think of you all!

2007-11-16T06:07:00.000-08:00

Let's say I'm a big tank full of delicious slow-burning energy. (That's what 2-3 cups of strong, yummy French coffee and a few packages of Sour Patch Kids with breakfast can do for you). Teaching is the only thing that can pull the plug and drain me in a matter of seconds.

I've taken up the habit of dining with the teachers in the cafeteria. I've convinced myself that their loud, nearly-incomprehensible chatter and their (hopefully eventual) idea that I'm semi-sociable will be good for me in the long run. For only 3€20 I can eat an appetizer, bread, wine, main dish, salad, cheese, and dessert. So much better than rushing home to cook and eat alone. Long live hour and a half-long French lunches served in 5 courses and alcohol in the middle of the day.

The Spanish assistant has finally arrived in Carentan and has taken up residence in the apartment just across from mine. It's nice to finally have a female on the block. And despite the fact that she can speak English we communicate only in French, which is good for my brain.

Tonight, dinner with the English profs from the junior high. Tomorrow, attempt to take daytrip to Caen (yes, the French are striking... AGAIN...the train may very well decide not to come).

Random Notes

2007-11-14T04:15:00.000-08:00

Does it make a difference if you buy the Camembert because it's only 20% fat as opposed to the Comté, which you prefer, which is 50% fat? Eat too much chocolate, too much bread, too many croissants. Drink too much wine, and coffee with whole milk and lots of sugar. Always have seconds, always.

If the sky is black, rest easy knowing that in approximately 4 minutes it's possible that the sun will come out and motivate you to run. But hurry, because 7 minutes after that it's going to start raining. Normandy is fucked up like that, but you'll take what you can get.

Walk to the church in the dark, cold, lonely night with intentions to pray. On the locked door, a paper hangs and the wind moves it enough so that it catches your eye. It notes the details of a funeral that will occur tomorrow morning and it freaks you out so much that you leave the church immediately, stopping a few times to look up at it accusingly.

Make a cd full of songs with lots of acoustic guitar in them for your new teacher. Realize what an emo mess you must be to want to learn all of these songs. Or, maybe they are just great songs.

Smile at, be energetic with, and encourage your students while in your head you despise them for being lazy idiots. Feel guilty for calling them lazy idiots. It's not them, it's you. Be more creative, work harder, spend more time planning.

Think of home. Think of family, friends, familiarity. Feel crazy and lost for wanting to be near to it all and far from it at the same time.

Consider taking a trip by yourself somewhere because it would be good for you, probably. Hold on, aren't you on a trip by yourself?

Back to the grind... if you can call it that.

2007-11-08T04:40:00.000-08:00

Back from Spain- a week-long trip that provided unforgettable (and classy) memories as well as total relief from the stress I was experiencing before I left.

Let's start from the very beginning since it sets the theme for the rest of the trip: I fell out of my bunk bed at 7am on the train from Paris to Madrid, ON TO a woman AND HER BABY. You're welcome woman and baby alike! Uhhh pardon, excuse me, lo siento, euuhhh je suis desolée, shit I'm sorry- I rattle off before I giggle uncontrollably (awkwardly) and rush out of the tiny room on my way to watch the Spanish sunrise from the café car. Which I cannot describe in words.

I found my way to the hostel without a problem, met my friend Adrienne for cafe con leche, and prepared for an evening that turned out to be epic. That is all that I can really say besides noting that 3 liters of "gasoline" were consumed and Adrienne made it out alive, but not without sustaining serious injuries. The next day I woke up twenty minutes before I had to check out of the hostel, risking losing my precious 10€ deposit and setting the tone for the rest of the day which involved finding my hotel in Alcobendas.
(Just walk AWAY from the mountains...)

That evening I finally met the other assistant from Lyon who randomly decided to meet me down there (that's the spirit!). She turned out to not suck which I base entirely on the fact that she wants to be on M.I.A. as much as I do and she withstood the classy behavior that can only come out of two people from Council Bluffs, Iowa, for an entire week. No easy task. We walked around Sol and had churros dipped in chocolate, the botanical gardens, the royal palace (um, this genius had no idea Spain had a king and queen...), and ended the night in plaza mayor drinking delicious sangria. (You better believe I successfully ate and drank my way through Madrid, and I've decided that this is the absolute best way to experience another culture). On the way home I smoked crack for the first time in my life. Second-hand, anyhow. I watched a bum steal some guy's wallet (even if I did speak more than three words in Spanish, there's no way I would have involved myself in that one...) and then he came and sat across from Joanna and I on the metro. I imagine what he had to say over his FOIL, LIGHTER, AND CRACK PIPE was probably very interesting... there's just that whole language barrier thing, ya know?

Saturday we walked around the huge park at Retiro, which I'm told is similar to Central Park in NYC. It was absolutely gorgeous. (Is it here, that I should note that it was 75 degrees at least and sunny the entire time I was there??) It inspired me to run again. It made me scoff at but secretly adore all the couples making out in the grass (everywhere. seriously, everywhere).

Sunday I saw Guernica which was amazing. It's enormous and moving, and that's all very impressive but I found that all the sketches and the photos of the metamorphosis of the painting were mind-blowing. I didn't end up making it to the Prado which I feel slightly guilty about... I realize I risk sounding like an ignorant American here, but didn't I see all that shit at the Louvre anyway?

I ended the trip with churros and chocolate (for the third time) with Joanna, lunch with a Spaniard, double lunch with Adrienne, and a 20-hour train journey back to Carentan, France. When I walked up to my apartment there was a plumber there tearing apart my shower and the walls in my bathroom because "il y avait une fuite sous terre"... Seriously. Seriously?

Yesterday I ran again, did my laundry, went grocery shopping, and attempted to come back down to Earth from Spain.

España

2007-11-03T05:49:00.000-07:00

Sunshine, churros, sangria, laughter, precious time with friends, relaxation, sunshine, sunshine, sunshine!!! are being had. In huge, much-needed doses.

I´ll be sure to update on my adventures upon my return.

A bientôt!

2007-10-30T01:52:00.000-07:00

Off to Spain!

2007-10-25T00:48:00.000-07:00

Luckily I write furiously in my REAL journal, eh?

I went to Amsterdam to visit my aunt last weekend...'twas a wonderful trip. I believe we succesfully ate our way through that lovely Dutchy city. I did the obligatory touristy stuff like the Anne Frank House and the Van Gogh Museum (horribly depressing and completely awesome, respectively), and of course the Red Light District. Which gave me an STD and made me feel like the most chaste lady this side of the Atlantic at the same time. And no GMA, Tracey did not "give me dope." This trip was made (im)possible by the (un)impressive French transport system- the one that decided to strike the day I was to leave and had me scrambling to find A. a train to Paris and B. a place to sleep and C. the funds to neccessitate those two things. Did I mention that I missed my train home and arrived in Carentan at 5am Monday morning? Yeah that happened too.

It's officially been over a week since I last had a run. My knees now have me in two braces, covered in the French equivalent of Bengay, and doped-up on glucosamine and Advil. It's sexier than it sounds, I promise. Fuck you very much, nature. I had a doctor's appointment (thankfully less awkward than the last) to get my medical certificates to run the half and join sports classes here- I was going to mention the whole "not being able to walk" thing to him but I selfishly wanted those certificates so I kept quiet. Better start saving for those knee replacement surgeries now! (Did I mention I'm 22 years old?)

I'm going to get the rest of this negative shit out of me before I end on a high note so here it goes:

Someone lets their dog shit ALL OVER my front "yard." This can't possibly happen unless they walk their dog to my front door and watch them shit there. This is infuriating. God help dog and owner if I ever actually SEE them out there.

My brother is STILL sick, perhaps worse. My OTHER brother is being an asshole and sneaking out to smoke weed with his friends (perhaps he'd also like to follow his brother's example and start stealing car stereos while he's at it). My dad refuses to pay child support anymore, which may be because his business is completely failing and well, you can't get blood from a turnip, I suppose. Which brings me to my mother who is about to fall apart because of the three aforementioned male family members. Bruce, my dog, is probably being an asshole too. My family life in the good 'ol USA is rotting and I am 25% DELIGHTED that I am not there to experience it in person, 25% consumed with guilt that 25% of me is delighted to not be there, and I am 50% sad.

Okay enough of that... let's move on, shall we?

I GOT MY GUITAR!!! After receiving a letter saying I'd have to pay almost 120Euros in customs taxes I thought I'd never see it again. But I called and argued a bit in my best French, (and admittedly lied a bit), and yesterday I received an enormous FedEx box with my name on it. I proceeded to print out a bunch of tabs, but I need a teacher.

Teaching is going very well. I am already kind of fed up with the fact that my students pretty much just stare at me. "Do you have any questions?" Blank stare. "Do you know what this word means?" Blank stare. "DOES ANYONE UNDERSTAND WHAT I AM SAYING RIGHT NOW???" Blank stare. I'm going to start saying really vulgar things about their mothers. At ANY rate, I've had a few lessons where the blank stares are slowly replaced by looks that tell me something is going off in their brains... a wink of understanding perhaps...? And silence has even been broken a few times by questions. Amazing! I did role plays with my students the other day (which I decided may be an evil way of getting back at every teacher who ever made me do a role play) and they actually attempted to be creative. I was afraid that I wouldn't be able to plan enough to fill 50 minutes but I'm starting to find that I'm running out of time... all the time. I like my students- even the bitchy ones- they're charming.

November 24th, Le Zenith, Paris, CHEMICAL BROTHERS!

Less than a week from now- SPAIN. Churros, sangria, sunshine (hopefully) will be had.

More pictures!

2007-10-17T03:01:00.001-07:00

Enough pictures of beaches to make one puke

2007-10-12T05:57:00.000-07:00

My legs were sore this morning from all the running, so I decided to bike instead figuring it would be easier. It ended up being a two hour long ride through the tiny, winding, countryside roads. I was lost the entire time, but I ended up at the SEA!!! Anticipating getting lost, I packed some snacks- which came in handy once I reached a point where I absolutely could not tell where the water ended and the sky began. I sat on the rocks, by myself, and had a picnic made of bananas, almonds, and the obligatory chocolate and cheese. Also- I think I took about 36 pictures of cows. My legs hurt even more now.

2007-10-11T03:07:00.000-07:00

Monday I went to Paris to prove to those assholes that I don't have the plague. My mom had reassured me that for a chest xray, they'd surely give me a gown. One nurse checked my eyes, height, and weight (after yelling at me in French, when I didn't understand the first time she told me to get on the scale) before sending me into a little room. In the little room I was prepared to be given something to cover up, after getting naked from the waist up- but before I even had my bra unhooked, another nurse had the door open asking me if I was ready. Um, no, uhhhh...and I must quickly finish undressing in front of her and walk across the room topless, where I am pushed against some strange machine, told to put my hands behind my back, and inhale... inhale... INHALE, PLEASE! Jesus lady, sorry. The moral of the story is I am not, and have not ever been infected with TB, so that's fun. But was all of that seriously neccessary? You're paranoid, France. I apparently have to go to another doctor in Carentan to get my medical certificate to run the half marathon- so that will be another adventure in Rachel making an awkward, half-naked ass of herself.

Tuesday night I went running and lost my house key. I was so proud of myself for going despite the rain and the cold-and thoroughly regretted it later. I of course made it almost completely home before I realized anything. The sun had almost completely gone down, but in an attempt to be a grown-up and try and get myself out of my own mess I decided to turn around and retrace my steps. The run right now takes about a half an hour, if I run it. When I'm walking it, slowly, at dusk, scanning every inch of the ground, it obviously takes much longer. When I got almost all the way back to my starting point I pretty much lost hope- and being the dramatic ass that I am was asking myself over and over what the hell I was doing in France, begging to find it, promising that if I DID find it I would run extra as a punishment for being so careless. I finally stopped and decided to give up and just go over my options: run to Steph's, ask her to call Daniel who could then call my elderly landlord and ask him to come? Does he even have a spare to my place? I have both sets of keys, I thought? Just go to my neighbor's place and pass out, defeated, and attempt to find a way in tomorrow? Just then I look down, and I see it. I ran all the way home, as promised, as not to tempt that bitch lady fate again.

Last night I went to dinner with Thomas, the kid who gave me the bike. It was surprisingly less awkward and less difficult to communicate with him than it sometimes is with people who actual speak the same language as me.

2007-10-05T02:21:00.000-07:00

Alright. So. I have limited access to internet and I loathe these French keyboards, but I'm going to blog anyway so my mother doesnt piss her pants wondering if I'm still alive or not. I figured out that I could just type on my own computer at home when I had time at night and then save it to my jump drive, but of course the jump drive doesn't work at the school. POS.

So I'll start where I left off- last Friday Daniel came and picked me up and took me to my new apartment...which is a studio about a block from the high school. It turned out to be much bigger than I expected, though it is still much like a dorm room situation (will I ever escape living like a student????) The fun part of the story is where Daniel tells me I won't have electricity until Monday afternoon. I think, fine, I'm flexible. But no electricity means no hot water, no heat, and no light... and for the entire 4 days (oh yes, I count Friday and Monday) the weather was rainy and cold. I kept an entirely optimistic attitude until the very last night, Sunday, when for lack of other things to do I had to go home at 9pm and sit in my dark cold apartment, alone. Monday evening (after waiting for 3 hours in said dark cold apartment for electricity man) turned everything around however: it's surprising how much less lonely one feels with the company of an overhead flourescent light and the whir of a refrigerator. Ah but of course nothing is ever without a bit of extra complication- none of the lights in the bathroom worked and I had to call the landlord to come fix them. I loathe talking to landlords, in English. M. Caillbar's a stud though, he was there fixing them within a half hour. Rachel wins that game.

At any rate, during this sans eletricity adventure- I met Stephanie, the other English assistant. She's from Birmingham, UK, and must do the assistantship for school requirements, so frankly I don't think she's that happy to be here. But she's nice, so I lucked out there. Saturday we went to Cherbourg together, but the weather was shitty. Luckily we forgot to get our train tickets stamped so we have a free one-way ticket to go back before mid-November.

Sunday I went and saw a movie- Les 3 Amis- an interesting experiment in attempting to understand French humor/French language for 2 hours. I also found a beautiful path along the canal to run- which I finally started to do again. (But seriously, WTF, I'll be walking that half marathon, let's be honest.)

Monday I started work- which for the first week is only supposed to be observing. So I introduced myself to each class and as I had expected, they mostly just stared at me like I was an idiot. But fine, I remember being too cool to speak in class. The problem right now is that there is apparently a huge schedule issue in my school right now, so they can't give me a fixed schedule. So I can't plan activities, and I don't even know when I'm supposed to show up. So I randomly showed up Thursday and did a small get-to-know-you activity with two classes de terminale (terminale is the last year of high school).

Wednesday Stephanie, her boyfriend who is visiting from the UK, and I all took a wee road trip to Utah beach and Mont St. Michel. (PS I have pictures of all of this that I will upload ... soon?) Mark has a car so it was convenient- and it was nice to get out of Carentan for the day. It was absolutely gorgeous weather for once. When we got back I went to an Aikido class- and felt totally stupid the entire time. I was learning ninja moves in French, for F's sake. I wasn't really planning on coming back until I stayed after the class to chat and everyone encouraged me to keep coming. I even met someone who took it upon himself to track down a bike for me. (Yesterday I ran into him on the path along the canal while I was taking a walk and he said he would bring it to me today- f'ing sweet-now I can ride my bike to the beach).

Thursday I managed to get a French bank account and sign up for health and accident insurance, and last night I met all of my neighbors who were having a party. The kid who lives next door to me is only 16, and is an apprentice in a boulangerie. The kid who lives accross from me is a farmer-in-training, and mentioned that in one week he will have wifi that he would be happy to let me steal. (Perhaps that is when I will be able to at last upload some pictures). At the party I met someone who is interested in doing a French/English exchange- which will be awesome for me.

So what else-
1. Monday I have a doctor's appointment in Paris. Basically I believe I have to get naked from the waist up and let them xray me in order to get my residence permit. That should be fun.
2. Today I booked a train to Madrid to visit a friend during La Toussaint, my first break at the end of October. Absolutely couldn't afford it because I haven't been paid yet, but there was no way I was about to stay in Carentan for almost two weeks without a job.

Anyway I feel like I left a lot out- but this post is enormous. A plus tard!

Enfin, Carentan

2007-09-27T09:58:00.000-07:00

Today is my first real day in Carentan. I arrived here yesterday around 530pm but it was dark and cold so I was not at all motivated to explore. My prof Daniel met me in a hurry and brought me to the hotel, but left right away. I think he will be nice, but he seems unorganized regarding the whole assistant program. In addition to that- he explained to me that his wife's aunt just suddenly went blind and therefore they are very busy and cannot really take care of me yet. He doesn't really speak English very well, so it'll be interesting to see how he teaches it. I ended up going to dinner with his wife and him which was a little awkward because ... I'm awkward. Oh! But I asked them about finding a bike and about getting guitar lessons and I learned that he is actually an ex guitar teacher! Coincidence? Methinks no! I think by the time I actually get my guitar shipped here he should be able to find time to teach me, which is exciting. He also teaches an Aikido class two evenings per week, so I'm thinking for lack of other things to do- I should also learn some ninja shit.

Today I walked around town- you can pretty much walk the whole thing in about a half an hour. It is very small and cute. I started at the office of tourism and got a map and some ads for dance classes and gyms and stuff. Anyway, though it's in the middle of nowhere really anything I'm going to need is here-and it's all inexpensive. I found my future movie theater, pharmacy, post office, bank, laundromat, the place where I'll be working, church (which, I was even thinking about attending a few times just to see what a French service is like), grocery stores, etc. There are even a few nice restaurants and hotels if my family ever decides to visit. I really hope the whole apartment thing works out tomorrow, I want so badly to unpack my suitcase and be somewhat "settled." Apparently there is another English (from the UK) assistant who will be working at the junior high and basically living there as well (it's a boarding school), and they are still looking for a Spanish assistant. Hopefully Monday when I start work I can figure out who they are so I KNOW SOMEBODY here.

Speaking of work- um, I'm still terrified of high school students. This was definitely just a means to an end- so I hope teaching is worth being in Europe again. I have no idea why I'm intimidated by 15 year olds, it's absolutely ridiculous. Bon, but one good thing is this: Daniel told me that I absolutely not to speak a word of French in class, I'm supposed to pretend like I don't even understand French. So at the very least, those little bastards can't make fun of my amazing language skills. :) Anyway I brought them American candy and I'm going to buy some cool posters for the classroom... bribery is always a good route.

I might take a train to Cherbourg Saturday to check it out. Since the Planchais will be gone all weekend in Paris and I've pretty much covered Carentan already, I might as well. I've also been in contact today with an assistant from some other small town and we might meet up in Caen next weekend. It'll be cool to finally discover some more French cities, since my travel last time I was in Europe was restricted to whirlwind trips to other countries.

PS- I'm totally getting into Rugby. It's cool being over here during the world cup.

Little Feats

2007-09-25T06:52:00.000-07:00

1. Figured out how to pull the window shade down
2. Blow dried/straightened my hair- and nothing exploded.
3. I set up my voicemail and "secret code" on my cell phone. Ha HA, lady who speaks French way too god damned fast, you can't fool me! Rachel- 1 French lady- 0.

Questions:
1. De toute facon
2. Forcement
3. To trust someone

Bon, alors. It turns out that the voided check I sent my mom so that she could wire me the money from my newly-sold car has been "lost" in the mail. Read: some asshole stole it and now as access to my millions. You're WELCOME, asshole who has access to my millions and now wishes to steal from me. Watch your ass though, Citibank and I have our eyes on you. It's times like these I love the 7 hour time difference and the outrageously expensive call rates to the US.

Yesterday I attempted to do a bunch of touristy stuff- Sacre Coeur, Musee D'Orsay, Notre Dame & Latin Quarter, etc. Museums are closed on Mondays, you genius. You already took billions of pictures of those buildings the LAST time you were here. Also- you can't really BE in any of the pictures when it's just you. So it really turned into a day of me riding the metro around- which was fine. There's something to be said for getting all the way across Paris in about a half hour, as opposed to the shitty Chicago CTA (which I never found to be SO shitty until I returned to Paris) which will have you waiting for a train/bus for a half an hour, followed by the obligatory sit-on-the-train-in-a-tunnel-for-another-half-hour-after-you-already-waited-as long-for-it-to-come ride. Wow, look at that. Long live my run-on sentences!

So last night I stayed in with Stoyan and we made dinner and sat at home looking at each others' pictures and talking about la vie et tout ca. I realize that Bulgaria isn't THAT far from the United States. Nevertheless I expect it to be so different, and it's really not. He showed me pictures of what was basically a Bulgarian prom and a family BBQ- I think it's funny that we really all do the same things even if it's not the same way.

I also grew some balls and called Daniel, the English teacher I will be assisting this year. I had to tell him when I was arriving in Carentan, and I ended up chickening out and speaking in English. Honestly 25% of the reason was because I didn't want to fuck up the details of my arrival, and I figured he would understand my English much better than my French. Alors, he said that I DO have a place to live (I expected to be homeless for at least another week so that was an amazing surprise,) but that I cannot move in until Thursday. He also said he'd reserve a hotel room for me for tomorrow night. I feel like I'm being babied here, I expected everything to be MUCH more difficult- but I'm definitely appreciating all the help I've been given so far.

As much as I love Paris, I'm ready to go to my new home. It's loud and busy here; I'm excited to go be a country girl for a while. What's more is I can feel my brain starting to switch into French. Which basically means my English spelling is already going to complete shit- and I'm forgetting the English words for things. (So it's not that my French is improving, it's that my English is deteriorating. I guess that's the first step though?)

A plus tard!

I Didn't Die on the Plane

2007-09-24T05:07:00.000-07:00

Awww yeah, I write to you from a shady internet cafe in Paris. Dig it. Since the dollar is doing SO WELL right now in the market, it's only costing me about 32 dollars a minute.

So yes- I made it to France. The flight was fine, i.e. it didn't crash. I didn't make it all the way through Shrek 3 though, which was a huge disappointment. I called home from Philadelphia right before I boarded the plane and of COURSE, one of the two biggest worries I had about leaving for France (the other is that I can't defer my student loans and I default on all of them because I'm so poor I'm on French welfare) has come to be: my brother is sick AGAIN. My mom says not to worry unless she calls and tells me to worry, but of course I am. And I will be for the next 7 -9 months. Thank you, fate! You bastard.

Back to France. David met me at the airport, which was a huge surprise and a godsend since all my shit is heavy and awkward-and he carried my suitcase the entire time. NOT easy in the Paris metro system since escalators are presque non-existant. I spent the day taking care of things like getting a cell phone and a train ticket to Carentan, and went out with David and his friends that night to watch Paris vs. Ireland at Rugby. Then I mouthed off to the Irish when France won, like I care, which was fun. (PS- I'll post pictures of all of this as soon as I write from my actual computer).

The next day I met Stoyan, who coincidentally lives like 50 feet from the train station that I leave from for Carentan. I thought it would be more awkward than it was since this is a person that I have seen like 3 times in my life and have barely kept contact with, but it wasn't. He has been perfect. He made me lunch, and carried my suitcase up about 150 stairs. (Thank YOU, centuries-old French buildings without elevators!) My fears were realized when I saw his 3ftX3ft studio apartment which features a loft TWIN bed and a shower ... box... thing... right next to it. We are never more than 2ft apart and privacy is non-existant. However, I was relieved to find out that he has a girlfriend and that he is extremely respectful. So no, we don't have to sleep in the same bed, I've had the place pretty much to myself. Sweet Jesus, thank you.

Saturday night I went to a house party dans les banlieues. It was pretty fucking awkward at first since I speak next to no French at this point, but everyone was fun and patient with me. Of course once alcohol became involved, I was fluent and there were no problems. I made a few friends, (or contacts is more like it) so I won't be completely abandoned when David and Benjamin go back to Chicago. Oh, and there was a stripper because it was someones birthday. So... that was special. She definitely put her crotch in some faces.

Yesterday we went to a soccer game at Parc des Princes, which is right in my old neighborhood. It was sureal. It's strange being back in Paris as a tourist, and not a resident. As a result I feel how most tourists must feel- that Paris is loud, busy, stressful- but fortunately I do remember how it felt to live here. It was awesome to be in a familiar part of town though, and not feel so fucking lost. The game was pretty cool- fans are way crazier here. (Uh... you know, because I know what fans are like in the US and everything). I'm assuming anyway... there were flares being lit in the crowds, some fights, lots of songs and shit that I didn't understand. It was Bordeaux vs. Paris, and Paris lost so all four boys I was with left dejected and pissy, which was funny.

I went to Trocadero afterward by myself for the obligatory Eiffel Tower pictures. I know it's cliche but I love that thing. It's not even the tower itself, it's pretty ugly. (Especially now that the bottom half is glowing green for the Rugby World Cup). It's just a symbol for this amazing fucking city.

I'm in Montmartre right now- I love Sacre Coeur so I wanted to come up here and sit and write in my journal. I walked by the fondu place we used to go to and it made me sad and happy at the same time. I'm thinking about going to dinner there tomorrow for my last night in Paris.

Bon, my time is almost up so I should wrap this up.

Adios Amigos...errr... Au.. revoir??

2007-09-19T21:21:00.000-07:00

Ummmm yeeeaaahhhh. Leaving tomorrow. Is it possible to feel completely at ease and have a major panic attack at the same time?

I'm glad I'm leaving. I'm annoyed with the pain in the ass that is a 16 hour travel day. I'm slightly worried that my bags are too heavy, I don't speak French, and the fact that I'm still homeless. But hey, there's nothing else to do, right? What else would I do? Get a job in Chicago? Stay in one place? Not be 4,000 miles from all of my friends and family? Buy some freaking furniture? Meet a boy I like and actually be able to date him?? RIDICULOUS, I SAY! Boorrrrriiiiiinnngggg. Right? Man, I'm glad I'm leaving all of that behind.

I spent some time with Annie and Joe the past couple nights, before I said my REAL goodbyes to them. Which were unceremonious and anticlimactic, like I like 'em. (My favorite goodbye ever is in the movie Dumb & Dumber: "Hey guys, big gulps huh? Welp, see ya later!") But I'm sure it'll all hit me like a train in a week. I didn't get to call or hang out again with anyone else since I was just too busy packing (a.k.a. staring at my already-packed suitcase for 3 hours a day trying to think of what I could have possibly forgotten). PS- I'd like to thank my little Frenchie students in advance. I am bringing them all kinds of American candy and magazines and newspapers and that shit makes my bag about thirteen times heavier than it should be. Thankfully, I'm a genius and a master world-traveler because I got my 70lb. bag down to 50lbs.- those US Airways bastards' limits- and I only lost one pair of jeans. Whaaaammy!

Annie prepared me an excel spreadsheet of my goals for the year. There are six, and I will share all but two as those are somewhat personal: Career- Not do a half-assed job at teaching/Find a "real" job before I return to US, Physical- Run Paris half marathon in March, Intellect- Take a class in France/Re-learn French/TRAVEL, Hobby- Learn guitar (not even like, play it well, just like, learn song other than "Blackbird").

I promise these posts will be more interesting once I'm romping around Europe. Hopefully. I promise I'll try to make these posts more interesting once I'm romping around Europe. Wish me luck?

Paix, homies.

Also!

2007-09-17T06:59:00.000-07:00

I am in love with this passage from the book I am currently reading. Why can't I write like this?!

" That is why she so desperately wants that package of notebooks and letters back.
She is aware, of course, that there are many unpleasant things in the notebooks- days of dissatisfaction, quarrels, even boredom. But that is not what counts. She has no desire to turn the past into poetry, she wants to give the past back its lost body. She is not compelled by a desire for beauty, she is compelled by a desire for life.
There she sits on a raft, looking back, looking only back. The sum total of her being is no more than what she sees in the distance, behind her. And as her past begins to shrink, disappear, fall apart, she begins shrinking and blurring.
She longs to see the notebooks so she can fill in the fragile framework of events in the new notebook, give it walls, make it a house she can live in. Because if the shaky structure of her memories collapses like a badly pitched tent, all she will have left is the present, that invisible point, that nothing moving slowly toward death."

-The Book of Laughter and Forgetting, Milan Kundera

He is so quickly becoming one of my favorite writers.

Farewells Galore!

2007-09-17T06:15:00.000-07:00

Man I suck at this. Consistently inconsistent... with everything... including this lame blog. Oh well. I'm sitting in Council Bluffs, Iowa, waiting for my abuelo to pick me up and take me to the airport. Since I passed out from exhaustion last night at 9pm and consequently woke up at 5:45am this morning, I'm ready to go early and hence, I have writing time. In my defense, life has been a shitstorm since mid-August despite being out of school and unemployed, and it has left very little time for anything.

On unemployment- I'm going to make one shitty adult. Fuckers 21 was killing my soul so badly that I left on my second-to-last day with the decision to never show up again. So... I didn't go to my last day. I should feel guilty. But nope. Damn the man. I can't decide if it's a bad part of my character that cannot and will not stand for a shitty job or if I should appreciate it because it means I will eventually do something that makes me happy... because it will have to. Meh? Not that I can even call Fuckers 21 a real job. But ... you get the point.

I'll start with my going away party in Chicago. Aunt Tracey was so kind as to host a party in my honor, make tons of delicious classy foods, and invite all of my Chicago friends (read: 3 friends) and all of my family. We had quiche (which was full-fat and therefore QUITE tasty, compliments to chef Tracey,) about 10 different cheeses, smoked salmon, fruit, veggies, flourless chocolate cake and a gorgeous fruit tart, obnoxious amounts of wine, and champagne. (I feel like I shouldn't leave out the fact that later, at 2am we walked to the Famous Taco Burrito for burritos... we are SO FAT). Highlights for brevity's sake: my grandma showed up in a beret, I got a guitar as a going-away gift from Rim and Tracey so I can finally learn while I'm in Carentan, several drunken sing-a-longs on the porch (sorry Trace's neighbors!) including Queen's "Bohemian Rhapsody" and Chris Issak's "Don't Wanna Fall in Love," and the fact that I woke up the next morning with a fake tattoo on my shoulder of a heart with a dagger stabbing through it. Classy end to a classy party. I'd post pictures but I didn't take any with my camera and my friends are too stupid to share theirs. :)

I then drove to Iowa City on my way to Omaha to bid farewell to the few friends I have left there. Most importantly, my precious lover Rachel, whom I unfortunately did not get to spend a ton of alone time with because my friend Katie drove all the way from Minneapolis to visit and say goodbye. Lori also came from Pella, which I'm sure was a pain in the ass to arrange so I'm very happy and grateful she came. I saw all my favorite girls, ate tons of delicious foods again (La Reyna and Red Avocado included!) and on Sunday I left for Omaha.

In Omaha I saw my brand new niece (we'll call her that for simplicity's sake) Joey and she is gorgeous! In all honesty she looks like every other newborn- a weird mix between a hairless cat and an alien- but she is so small and beautiful and I am sad that the next time I see her she will probably be walking. Marcy is doing well still and I wish I could have spent more time with her too. I went to dinner with my dad and brothers, which is an extremely rare occurrence so that was nice. I also spent some time with a new friend- which was fun and a change of pace.

After a few days in Omaha I drove down to Missouri with my mom for a little vacation. We went boating everyday, jet skied, and went horseback riding. I didn't have internet or a cell phone, forgot all of my make up, and spent the majority of the week unshowered, unshaved, and in my bathing suit. It felt liberating and peaceful.

The half-marathon action is looking a little bleak right now, but it isn't until March so I still have time. Basically my knees are sore even when I walk now, so I got some new (quality, properly-fitted) shoes and I'm hoping that will help. Frequency has also been a little affected by all the traveling and partying I've been doing but I'm hoping once I achieve a little stability in France that will change as well.

Speaking of France- hopefully I have time to write the night before I fly out because I'd love to document the sheer terror I'll be feeling. Right now I feel fine- it's like the momentum of the decision is taking me there no matter what I do at this point, so I'm just relaxing and enjoying the ride. David wrote me a few days ago from Paris saying he has a full weekend planned for us- including a soccer game he bought tickets for. I'm suddenly nervous about staying with Stoyan a. because I'm scared his apartment will be too small and b. because I'm slightly nervous he's going to "expect something" other than a drink in a bar for staying at his place. Here's to hoping Bulgarian customs and culture aren't SO different that it means I'm expected to bone for a free place to stay!!! If that is the case- David better get ready because I'm calling him and sleeping in his parents' basement ... or perhaps a Parisian phone booth. Also- Tracey already has a business trip planned in Amsterdam in mid-October so it looks like I will be traveling fairly soon after my arrival. I'm so excited to finally visit that city, and I'm glad it's with someone who knows it well so I'm not some dumbshit tourist hanging out in the "coffee shops" the entire time I'm there.

So there you have it. A choppy, sloppily-written account of the last three weeks or so. Cheers!

Full Steam Ahead...

2007-08-27T23:18:00.000-07:00

I moved to Wicker Park for my remaining weeks in Chicago. Sometimes it's full of shitty pretentious hipster-types, but mostly I love it. I've been jogging through the neighborhood and it's nice; there are beautiful old homes and lots of TREES. Hadn't seen those things in a while since I'd been living downtown. As far as the whole jogging thing is concerned- I'm hoping to get to a comfortable 3 miles before I move to France so I can train for the Paris half marathon. Someone pray for me- I'm only at about a (physically challenging) mile-and-a-half.

Today I booked a hostel for my first night in Paris and made plans to stay with my friend Stoyan for my remaining three or four nights there. (One freaking night in Paris at a HOSTEL is costing me nearly 100 bucks! Ugh.) I met Stoyan on a bus to Brussels in 2005. He's from Varna, Bulgaria but studies finance in Paris. I told him one of my goals while overseas was to take at least one big trip through Eastern Europe- he promised we'd talk about the possibility of visiting his hometown once I arrive in Paris. I can't wait! He warned me not to bring a big suitcase because his apartment is so small- I assured him there wouldn't be a problem but that was an enormous lie because I'm definitely going to have a year's worth of belongings with me. We'll see how that one goes. Watch me end up in a box on a Parisian street corner. At least panhandling in Paris is semi-romantic-sounding to me.

I might sell my car? (Student loans are a bitch- can anyone tell me why I'm still heading to grad school??) I'm about to just go off the grid completely and live in a hut deep in the mountains somewhere. I could read the Bible and knit blankets. Taaayyyy in da wiiiiinnnnnn...

Anyone have a guitar I can bring to France? The plan is to come back with a healed heart, a healthy soul, a relatively healthy body (I can't really do much about all the fresh butter-laden croissants and delicious bottles of red wine I'll be consuming) AND with some sort of talent... am I setting the bar too high?

I'm tired and I'm catching a cold. Over and out!

Merci, France!

2007-08-21T11:36:00.000-07:00

I am officially legal to sleep in France. It was a nice little Tuesday morning. I spent it in the Consulate General de France, getting my visa. Note/Question: the office of the French Consulate is decked out in clear plastic chairs and wacky(!) colored carpets à la A Clockwork Orange...? Creepy!

I had a third nightmare, for the second night in a row about you-know-who a.k.a The Devil. As if this isn't getting old already. I need some Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind action, stat.

So after a wee bit of a ho-hum morning due to the excessive torture my brain aims to cause me while I'm unconscious plus a little cherry-on-top made out of sweet French Bureaucracy- I treated myself to a beer about the size of my skull at 11:30am on this wonderful Tuesday morning. I was all smiles and rainbows and kittens on the walk home. Seriously, I saw this tiny baby with enormous headphones on its head- that plus the beer turned the day around.

Oh baby Jesus. And my roommate just walked in with a bit of Mango ice cream for me. Whaaaaaaaammmy!!

FIN!

2007-08-17T13:03:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I was feeling a little...hmm.. "down" as they say and decided to be a little self-indulgent. Not that I'm not usually that way anyway. But in this case, I ended up with a bouquet of sunflowers, some new cute underwear that I couldn't afford, and some new shoes (that I DEFINITELY couldn't afford, but they will serve me well in France-so I justified the purchase that way.) The sunflowers are gorgeous, and they look like giant smiling faces. Perfect.

Ahhh oh and yes, just finished my presentation. Although I was wrong, it won't make a more interesting post. It was pretty boring- you can only make demographics in study abroad programs sound so interesting. They're all middle class white college girls. But alas, it's over, and my days at IES have come to an end. The work was tedious, but the people here are intelligent, young, and well-traveled. Now if I could figure out a good enough excuse to tell Fuckers 21 so I could go get drunk with my now ex-coworkers in a outrageously celebratory manner.

That brings us to the fact that I move to France in T minus one month and three days. I have an appointment to get my visa Tuesday, so let's cross some fingers and hope that the French government doesn't bend me over and have its way with me.

That same Tuesday, I will be moving out of PT. David and I will say our au revoirs and he heads to Paris on the 24th. How the hell did August just disappear like that? He'll have a month to settle before his lost mentally-disabled American friend who speaks NO FRENCH shows up... and then he's invited me to a soccer game with him and his friends. Soccer? Meh. Should be fun though, it's PARIS. Now I plan to shack up with my Annie and Joe for a few weeks- before heading home to Omaha to spend my last week with my dysfunctional yet beloved family. Gotta love that 8 hour drive.

Suppose I should clean up my desk now and steal as many post-its as I can. I love those fucking things.

Back By (Un)Popular Demand...

2007-08-12T13:50:00.001-07:00

My deepest apologies to all two of my readers- life has been moving at triple-speed lately. I keep trying to grab summer and hold it still, but it's all wiggly and shit and it's slipping away from me faster than I could have imagined. Not to mention the fact that the internet I steal in my apartment rarely keeps a signal longer than 5 or 6 minutes which is hardly conducive to my ramble-y, long-winded-yet-somehow-still-mundane life updates.

Let's start with this: one of my best friends in the world has finally moved to Chicago! The timing is weird- it's unfortunate since I'm moving away in a month, but I'm grateful he came at the end of my stay in Chicago because it forced me to actually talk to people and go places and do things on my own- I think they call this "making friends" or "being sociable." We went here, where I believe I had my first gay-black-man-hitting-on-me experience. CHECK! that off of the life goals list.

Next: The French stranger weirdo person that I randomly decided to move in with is quickly becoming a very good friend. **Warning this next part gets maybe a little dramatic and cliché but it must be said. I won't mind if you roll your eyes.** I don't know if it was luck or fate or coincidence or dare I mention it GOD or some kind of Rachel-guardian; but it seems like after a series of what I took to be minor tragedies in my life (Tony, Sean's transplant, Tracey's Wedding, what I will refer to as my "Mexican car-wreck disaster,") things are aligning themselves and working out far better than if I could've planned them. Not to say that all of the above-mentioned things are resolved and life is a blissful world of Taco Bell, cats, and naps. But I do feel like I can finally put myself at the mercy of time and just relax. I feel grateful. **Okay, I'm done.**

So let's move on: I went to Lollapalooza this year, for free! My favorites: M.I.A., The Black Keys, TV on the Radio, Yeah Yeah Yeahs, and Kings of Leon. Daft Punk fucking took the cake though. Then they baked another one and took that one too. I have never seen a better ADD-inducing light show in my life. Simply amazing. Oh yeah, and then I FUCKING MET JULIETTE LEWIS. In Earwax café no less, the place where I apologetically took my friends AGAIN that night because I have been obsessed with their vegetable burritos all summer. Jesus Christ, I love her. And I love burritos.

Okay I don't even want to write about this because it's next to shameful. But it should probably be noted for historical purposes. I also started a shitty part-time retail job to help the France-fundraising thing. I won't get too into details for fear that this will just turn into a rant. But let's just say my first day I greeted every motherfucker who walked into that store... for 9 hours. HI GUYS! HOW ARE YOU!? HEEEY LADIES! DON'T FORGET TO CHECK OUT OUR 2 FOR $9 SUNGLASSES!!! Holy shit am I glad to have a college degree. I'm currently spending my free time practicing obnoxious dialogue in various accents for the last week I work there. Suggestions/requests are welcome.

Alright, that should do it. I have a big presentation this week at work that I'm more than slightly nervous about. However, I feel like that will be a better blog AFTER the fact, because it's sure to be a disaster. Plus it's Sunday afternoon- so I'm off to treat myself to some Taco Bell and napping.

Peace Out America, Hello Carentan! Carentan???

2007-07-25T11:25:00.000-07:00

I got my assignment in France, finally. Carentan. Wait, huh? Where the hell is that? Ugh, a town in the middle of nowhere with a population of around 10,000, you say? Well, it's not really how I like to do business. But it's on a beach, so I give. I believe I was still swimming (in the freaking ocean) in late October the last time I was in Normandy. Beat that, suckers. Next: an appointment to get a visa, and so my long treacherous adventure in French bureaucracy continues... Now I just need some mind-blowing teaching ideas. And a huge set of balls. Huge ones. Oh yeah- and ginormous is a word in the dictionary now?

Moving on... I saw Double Indemnity in Grant Park last night. It was a beautiful night- with the sky threatening (teasing?) rain, the city skyline as the backdrop, and an old film noir (my favorite line, "shut up, baby!" followed by dramatic-black-and-white-glamorous-Hollywood kiss) on the center stage. It's burned into my brain (despite the bottle of wine consumed in the process) as one of my favorite Chicago summer nights.

Describes the Current Battle Almost Perfectly...

2007-07-23T09:52:00.000-07:00

On home:

"Where they are no longer foreigners..., where they don't have to think before they speak or act, and where they needn't ever worry again about having to adjust. Home: where it's easy."
-Storti, 1990, p. 99

"For a woman of which no place is home, the thought of the end to all flight is unbearable."
-Kundera, The Unbearable Lightness of Being.

Ouais, exactement. So then what.

To Josh Corrigan

2007-07-19T20:19:00.000-07:00

Today I went to Target and bought some chairs....

Oh- And did anyone see the greatest episode of "So You Think You Can Dance?!"..... amazing.

Fin.

Rainy Frenchie Madness

2007-07-18T19:18:00.000-07:00

Remember this: tonight the most amazing thunderstorm is taking place in Chicago. I ran home from Grant Park after a free Decemberists concert, and left a puddle in the elevator. The show was good, the wine was better, and the people were the best.

The new place is ... nice...? I love staring at the buildings as I drift off to sleep. It's a little hotel-esque and I would never choose this as my permanent living situation though. David and I have entire conversations where he speaks in French to me and I speak in English back to him. I need to get over that. For the sake of being moderately discreet- we can just say I hid an air freshener somewhere around the apartment. He will be in Paris the weekend I fly in though- so if I have a freak out or something I will have someone to call.

Speaking of Paris- WHAT? Fuck.

Ann Arbor, MI

2007-07-17T07:10:00.000-07:00

Escaped the city for a bit this weekend. Let's just say it ended with a last minute flight directly to work from Detroit on Monday morning. Note to self: Carly does NOT come up with her best ideas when on boats. Flight 305 was scheduled to depart at 6:45am. However, due to those cool Homeland Security dudes' new rules, I did not sit in my airplane seat ready for sweet flying action until 6:41am. The plane didn't crash and I got to work on time. I win that game.

Life lesson #13,458: Beards. Not so bad after all.

Saw Detroit- lots of people sitting around holding plastic bags. Interesting. Learned a little about myself: apparently three "OPA!s" is all I can handle before I'm sent into a fit of rage.

Sunny Highland Michigan: nice. Impossible-to-figure-out gate latch at stranger's pool: not nice. I cannot express how mentally exhausting the city becomes, and yet I don't even notice it until I take a break from it. Dear Herman, I love you. Sorry about that whole molesting you and using-you-as-a-murder-weapon thing.

Also- in non-Michigan related news: In precisely two months I fly back from Omaha to Chicago so I can pack my shit and move to France. Not that I'm in a panic about that or anything.

So far, so good

2007-07-10T21:55:00.000-07:00

Reasons to be in love with this summer so far:

1. Sitting in the grass in Millennium Park in a dress, reading a great book.
2. 1/2 priced bottles of wine and good friends to drink them with
3. Discovery of live band karaoke
4. Speaking french regularly
5. Strangers on trains (so many... so many...)
6. Europa, Myopic, and having the time and energy to finally read the books I buy there.
7. Yummy Wednesday burritos at Earwax.
8. Bike rides on Lake Michigan.
9. Jewelry classes at Caravan.
10. Lunches, dinners, and back porch bitchfest/therapy/bonding sessions with my favorite auntie.
11. Cicadas. I love them.
12. Painting pictures for Joe.
13. Wine (yes more,) fireworks, headstands, and being grateful for my best lady's visit.
14. Constant treats to French films by my "roommate."
15. Farmers markets.
16. Finally being warm and wondering how I ever made it through the months of November through April.
17. Random adventures and discoveries that have only taken place because I am single and alone in Chicago- something I had once been afraid of.

Blogs and Guns

2007-07-08T09:46:00.000-07:00

I hate blogs, they're lame. But I need somewhere to keep track of my adventures, and some kind of tool to help me keep in touch with all my lovers when I move in September. Hence, I've jumped on the blogging bandwagon. Dig it.

Last night I caught a cab ride with a gun wielding Mexican dude. I had one dollar on me and it was 3am. He got upset with me when I asked if he was in a gang, and also when I refused to share my delicious sandwich with him. He said he was "carrying a .22" and would I like to share a cab to the blue line? Of course I would.

I'm going to die in this city.