I'm Leaving on a Jet Plane...Don't Know When I'll Be Back Again

I guess I should really get some details going on here, since I doubt you are going to hear anything from me until after Ireland. So we'll start with last Thursday- our Christmas party-

I had class until 4 that day, and afterward, I met up with Sameen to take her down to the river- she had never seen it up close. Though as it turns out, she had quite the list of things she wanted to do- and I didn't really mind. We went to the store to buy her candy- and I picked up a little pastry to eat at the river.

Then we went to the English bookstore- to look for a travel guide for her, but they didn't have a copy, so she had to order one. However, they did have the third book of a series I have been reading- and I was ecstatic, since they haven't had it any of the other times I have been in there.

We headed down to the river, where she took pictures, frantically trying to document days, moments- she's going to be here next semester, but I think she is starting to realize that we aren't...anyways, so we sat on the bench and I ate my pastry, she, her candy. We just talked about us and how we are changing- wondering if we could welcome the same friends, the same life back into our beings. We tried to figure out just how much we have changed- who we are now- we came up with a few definitions- we are more bitter, more independent, less trusting, and older- much older. It will be interesting to see what such developments bring us.

Once we started to get cold, we climbed back up the stairs and as I was about to cross the street, I looked over my shoulder for Meja, and there she was standing next to the Ferris wheel- staring up at it with child-like eyes- wanting desperately to ride it, and not saying a word. So I say- "Meja, do you want to go on the wheel?"
She responds quickly- "No...unless you want to. Do you want to?"
"Meja, we'll go if you want."
"No, it's okay, unless you know, you want to. You had said the other day that it could be fun..."
So I walked up to the ticket booth and paid. We both waited for it to stop and climbed into the car- no one else was on it....anyways, so it starts to move and the city comes into view- a beautiful snapshot opportunity- "Meja, hand me your camera....Meja?" And I look over at her, sitting there shaking- "What's wrong?"

"I just remembered that I'm scared of heights...."
Oh Meja....she continued to scream and squeal, until we made down to the bottom, and as it started rounding back up to the top- she started to calm down a little, still unable to move. By the third round, she was okay- she could take pictures, actually look out onto the city, and smile. We ended up going 6 or 7 times around, before there were actually other people who were going to ride.

Then we headed to what Laura and I so aptly call the Christmas store- you walk in there with the intention of buying one thing- just one, like a book bag for instance, and walk out with a bunch of stuff. Think of like- a more sophisticated, French version, or Marc's. Anyways- she needed a duffel for her stay in Germany over the Christmas season- she left with that, a Zen garden, pictures of Audrey Hepburn and Marilyn Monroe, permanent markers, and something else.
After that, we went over to the Christmas market, where Meja bought some roasted chestnuts, and had them for the first time. It was cute watching her little hands crack them open. I am glad that I ate them with Patrick and Marie- because I have helped both Laura and Sameen know how to eat them now....we walked down the market (her first time being there as well) and admired all the booths- the jewelry, the lights, the spices, etc.- Meja said "HoHoHo" to Pere Noel- though I don't know if he says that in France....

After we made a round of the market, we headed to the front, where Sameen bought a cup of hot wine- which honestly smells way better than it tastes. We took it over to the Christmas tree, and stood there- trying to finish it- it was difficult. She would take a swig, then I would. But it was fun because we were laughing at how horrible it tasted and singing Christmas songs that were playing on the radio.
After that, we headed home to get ready for the Christmas party.

I ate dinner that night- don't remember what it was in quite the rush...I was anxious to get to Kevin's house, if only for the familiarity of Christmas movies. Kevin had purchased us delicious treats- this chocolate-ly goodness- two different kinds of Christmas logs- then started the Grinch- Kevin's expressions during that were priceless. And then we watched Charlie Brown- the original Christmas special and the remake. We stayed there for a couple hours talking amongst ourselves- while Kevin just listened to what we had to say- not really interjecting.

We all left giggling, feeling really good. The next morning I went to class- and only had to sit through two of them before it was time to go home and pack. I packed my stuff quickly and left for my train. I was a little nervous thinking about going to Paris to see Gill- I don't know- it just didn't feel like a good idea anymore. I read at least half my book on the way there- it was a 680 page book- so I had some left over. Anyways so I got into Paris- figured out which line to take so that I could transfer- and ended up at the Cluny metro station-
I don't remember if I ever told you about this specific metro station, but I had visited frequently during my stay in Paris- I told the girls they had to go look at this station- they never did. But it was gorgeous- the ceilings have mosaic tile, forming really beautiful pictures, and while you stand there, waiting for the train, you find your gaze drifting over the pictures- each catching a certain light. Then whoosh- your train pulls in- pushing your innocent curiosity aside- and bringing you back into the swing of Parisian.

It's about 7 stops before I get to Gill's- and while the music from my Ipod hums into my ear- I am still having some doubts- but regardless, I get off the train and walk through the park to get to her house. There is a certain gate of the park which is right across the street from her apartment- and that is what I was looking for. I remembered it well. I found it- but it was locked. So I turned around and walked back through the park- trying to find an exit going in the same direction.

I found one, walked across the street, entered the security code for Gill's building- and then hit the buzzer for 5G. "Hello?" I responded quickly "Hey, it's me..." Then the door was buzzed, I took the elevator to the fifth floor to be greeted with a huge hug, a friendly smile- and a cup of tea. I sat down on the couch, and we just talked about things- weddings (her daughter is getting married in June, and then of course Christy, this spring...) She was fascinated by the way I talk, as she always was.

So Gill is British, granted- but she has cutesy little things she says apart from that. What she finds particularly interesting about me- is how I use words to meet my purpose- ex. sidenote, check, obvi- just things I use that have become part of how I talk. Anyways- Gill told me of the party she had arranged for that night- a gathering of some of the people from her church and some friends. One of them was French, meaning that the duration of the evening would be in French- awesome. She made pizzas, and the guests slowly started to arrive. Two of them I had met before- Cassidy and Emilie. Then there was Cassandra, James, and Elisa, I think?

The French girl arrived first- and I was anxious to hear the difference in Gill's French- but there wasn't, at all. She stuttered more than before- and over words she should know. She had been at the Paris school all this time- she then leaned over to me, and told me that she had moved up a level, but then was pushed back down. The first student to ever be downgraded.

George was in the back working on something- so I just started making conversation with this girl. Gill just stood there watching both of us talking- with one of those expressions like she is trying to understand at least one word- all she could say later was how much better my french has gotten- whatever, I didn't really believe her.

Anyways, so other people arrived- the next girl was Australian, I think her name was Cassandra- she was dressed in all black, with mildly dark make-up, I spent the most of the time talking with her- I found her particularly interesting. She talked about her love for gothic music, and Tim Burton films- (George and Gill sat me down the next day at dinner and ask what that meant...'gothic') Anyways, she had been dating a guy for 11 years, and they had been apart for 4 months now- and she was pretty heartbroken.

James- was this mildly arrogant British boy, I really think that he thinks he is more attractive than he is- he wore that "hip" kind of look, with his blond hair that he would run his fingers through or just flip back. Cassidy and Emilie are also British- and so loud- with probably the most annoying laugh of ALL time.
So we have dinner, discussing what our favorite French phrases are-
then play this really annoying game, where you have to use one word or one expression to help people guess the person whose name you drew....
.....I didn't care for it that much.

I was excited where they all left- and went to bed shortly after. I read a little more of my book in bed, before drifting off- Saturday morning- Gill told me that I could sleep in as long as I wanted- so I got out of bed at about 10. I came out of my room, to find Gill sitting on the couch in her pajamas reading the paper, and George in a bath robe working on his computer- I felt so at ease. I just took my place on the couch, and Gill made me toast and tea, and we didn't really talk much. I just sat there, drinking my tea, watching the rain outside her window, fall down on to the pavement, on to the trees of the park, on to the flowers, still in bloom- and longed for the glittering white cover that rests on the ground at home.

She disturbed this fantasy by saying something about taking a shower- she handed me a towel- and I stepped into the best water pressure I have had since I got to France- I mean this was wonderful- like Christy's apartment in Cleveland (how it would beat down on your back to the point where it was borderline painful, but still SO good). Afterward, she asked if I wanted to blow dry my hair.

That may not be a big deal to you- but I had not even seen one in months. I stood in front of her mirror- and ran a brush through my hair while drying it- it was wonderful. I had forgotten how warm, and soft it makes your hair....anyways....
We tried to help George with the Christmas card he was trying so desperately to make on his computer, before heading off to the Christmas market.

It was like the one in Tours, but bigger, better. I went with the intention to find something for Dan's mom- I left with a necklace and a hair clip for me- um, failure...
....but it really is a beautiful necklace.....

...After that, Gill said that she just had to eat something, so we headed over to the mall, so that she could get some McDonald's- apparently there was a McCafe inside the McDonald's- it took us an hour walking lost around this mall before we found the McDonald's- and its Cafe. Here there were pastries, croissants, fancy bread, treats, and then coffee- it was an interesting take. She ate once we finally found a seat- that has been quite the process in both of the McDonald's that I have been to now.

She had some shopping to do- so we to this one store- it was the biggest I had ever seen- an everything store, like Walmart, but bigger- and not as commercialized. But in the middle they had an escalator- that was really wide, so you could take your cart to the second floor with you....and on either side of the escalator- there were like bins of things, so you could continue shopping during the ride up.

Gill needed a couple things she didn't know where to find- so she decided that I should ask where they were. That was interesting- I am not normally the one with the stronger French in a situation- but I asked for her, found what she was looking for, and we moved on. I had us make a brief pit stop at a Japanese restaurant for some soup, Sushi, and rice....that was worth it.

We left the mall and got back on the metro. It was the most packed I had ever seen it- while I was standing up, I could feel every inch of the person behind me pushed up against me- the next stops were a little rough- because people would be waiting to get on, but there was no room, yet they would squeeze in. I was standing next to a couple seated across from each other.

He looked up at me with apologetic eyes, and said "The next stop is ours." And I smile sympathetically, and said good luck. So in order for him to get out, I had to like to sit in his lap and then crawl- imagine how you would switch places in the front seat of a car without getting out. Anyways, so I sat where he had been, and then an elderly woman sat where the girl had been.

Her husband stood next to her, gingerly holding on to the rail- I tugged on his coat, and he looked down at me- I told him that he could have my place if he wanted. But he declined, telling me how nice I was- and how the world needed more people like me- that made me happy.

After we got home, Gill was very tired- so she took a nap, while George and I watched Mr. Bean goes on Holiday- it was interesting. I really never liked Mr. Bean....

...then there was dinner, roasted chicken, BAKED POTATOES, and assorted vegetables. The plan for that night? The lights!

We took the metro downtown and started off with Galleries Lafayette and Printemps- their window displays. These beautiful lights, and intricate moving figures- I loved this. One window was my favorite- it was an underwater shot- these bears were floating on bubbles, and there were huge jellyfish off to the left-hand side. We made our way through Concorde, to look at the Champs-Elysee, how it was lined on both sides by these beautiful blue lights- then the red and white of the cars in the middle. There's a huge ferris wheel now right there too- so that was pretty to look at.

We traveled down to the Louvre- I had never seen it at night- either had they. And can you believe it that they have been living in Paris since July- and have never gone to the Louvre? They have never seen the inside. I mean I have three times....that's just crazy to me.

After that, my pants were soaked- and we were freezing, so we got on the metro and went back home. Mm, to another cup of tea- and Gill has free International calling, so I tried Dan, he didn't answer. So I called Mom- and talked to her and Nelson- I was pretty happy with that. Gill and George went to bed while I was on the phone.

I read the rest of my book, and drifted off. Got up about 8:30 the next morning- more toast, more tea, more time in pajamas- George was preparing to give his sermon, trying to get down what he needed- and he went off. Gill and I took the bus later, I brought my things with me so I could leave right away.

The bus ride was bumpy, but reminded me of buses in San Fran- specifically sitting in the expandable section that would move every time they turned. We got to church- and we were back in French mode. People were suddenly asking about my life, what I planned to be doing, how long I had been studying- and people were telling me that my French was pretty good, still didn't believe it.

Once awkward small talk time was done- the service started- by song. Nothing different, the songs were in French, but I knew them- both by the rhythm, and translating them in my head. Anyways, I looked over at Gill- and she was basically having spasms while singing. I don't know why this happened- then she ran to the front of the room and started screaming about exotic birds that she sees in her head and how they are all tied to the ground- and how God is that thing that can cut the tie, and she was still shaking and crying - and there was a guy there translating what she was saying into French. It was all very uncomfortable and intimidating- and I could not wait to get out.

I looked around and saw other people shaking and crying- thrashing their arms around and singing- it was really weird. At the end, they were still crying and shaking and went to the front of the room while more people would come up and pray for them.

Cassidy came and sat next to me- she asked me what I thought of the service- and I was honest, that I didn't really understand a lot of the things that people were doing- and she tried to explain- but then it was ever more complicated because she just made me feel bad for not understanding- but it was strange.

There was a lunch after it, and I ended up sitting between Gill and George. Gill chatted with the other people- and I was involved in the conversation that George was having with Gordon, another English pastor. Then Gordon started focusing his energy on me- he began interrogating me about what kind of church I go to- why I go there, does it follow the Bible- why do I believe it, and so on...

Anyways, it was finally time for me to go- Gill walked me to the metro, and I took it to the next metro stop I needed- and got on my train- quickly passing out, until the conductor woke me up to get my ticket. I was really tired- mostly because I was sick- but I get home stumbled to my room, came down for dinner.

Finals were Monday- and I thought they went okay- I got the grades back yesterday, they were alright. When I finished giving my oral presentation, he said that I spoke French very well.

In other news, I overheard Marie talking about how she wanted flowers, but didn't have the time to buy them, so I bought them for her yesterday- 15 roses- half white, half red- she loved them. She said that I am learning- that I have gotten better, I guess I can believe them now?

I am almost done packing- just a few last additions to be made and then I am on my way to Ireland. I got my grades today- this week has been strange, having classes after taking finals- has been a weird system.

Now I am sitting with Charlotte listening to her music and trying to get a music profile for her- I have every intention of writing to them as often as I can- I love the idea of pen pals...

Anyway, I have things to do that do not involve this computer, surprise, surprise....
.......wish me luck!

I Know You're Losing Sleep Over Me

So, I realized that Megan, the other American in my class, from Chicago- probably hates me. And I am perfectly okay with that- really because honestly, I don't care for her all that much. Realistically, it's not like I will talk to her when I go home. But some times, she says these things about America, that I don't particularly agree with, so I call her out, and I don't think she likes it all that much. Oh, and if she says something, I can totally counter it. Oh, and since I am one of the only native English speakers in the class- she talks to me about her problems- usually a bad move on anyone's part, unless we are close- mostly because I am ridiculously blunt.

After class yesterday, and after the internet just magically shut off way before time, we headed to the gare to pick up our tickets to Paris for next month. We bought them online about a month ago, and we went up to the machine at the gare, as instructed, but our foreign cards didn't work in terms of acknowledging who we are. So we had to go to information. Now we are presented with two choices at this point- A. Wait until the 19th, or go now. So we went then, and as soon as we stepped in, we were really happy that we went for it then. When we stepped in, we saw the big sign saying what number they were on, then heard them yell. Laura didn't see where they got their numbers, but I just made my way across the room, found the machine and retrieved the ticket.

This is basically why Laura needs me- her French is a lot better than mine, to be expected I suppose because she is older than me, and has taken way more French classes at home before coming here, but the girl has little to no common sense- I find the tickets, I know when to cross the road, I know random, useful vocabulary, how to spell things in English- it's a pretty fair partnership though because she talks when I need her to. But I back her up when she needs me to. Fair enough to me.

The women behind the counter was very nice, and was able to help us, so now I have the ticket- it is sitting on my desk a few feet away from me, and that in itself is pretty exciting. On the way to the gare, we went through the Christmas market, and saw tehe little wooden houses, with their items on display- scarves, spices, hats, jewelry, hot wine, roasted chestnuts, toys, and Christmas stuff galore. Laura and I are going back on Friday, as well as some other stores we have in mind to do our Christmas shopping.

We picked up a brochure about Christmas in Tours, and noticed that it said the lights go on at 5:30 that night, so we looked up at the clock, and it said 5:25- what luck! We waited in the square in front of the tree, our little toes frozen, and waited, and waited. A woman came up to me, and asked if it was 5:30, I said yes, then she asked if it lights up that day, I said yes. But like most things French, it was 15 minutes late. The big tree was kind of an epic disappointment, but the road, and all the little ironic white trees were pretty.

That night at dinner, I itried to talk more- about whatever I could think of- I told M & P that the Christmas market was dangerous for me because there were a lot of necklaces, they laughed. I said that I was excited about my excursion. We had spaghetti- like real spaghetti, with tomato sauce, and mussles, and calamari, and shrimp- I think seafood is cheaper here. But P & M started telling me about their last American. He was a young, black student from New York- he wore his pants below his butt, he talked all the time, he always went out, and he had my room, cranking the heat up so high that Marie said she didn't know how he could breathe.

They said that this confused them because I am the polar opposite, I don't talk as much as they think I should, I wear my pants normal, I hardly ever go out, I do my homework, and I leave the heater off, and when they walk in my room, they freeze. This made them come to the conclusion that all Americans are very different. Whatever works, I guess?

So we needed to meet at Kevin's house for the excursion at 9:15, but Laura and I couldn't remember if it was then, or 9- so we rolled in at 9:02, apologized for being late, Kevin said we were early. I ate my rice pudding out of my lunch (I didn't have time for breakfast), then the other girls arrived and we piled into the van. I had reminded Kevin to bring music- and wow, did I regret that error. Mostly for the other girls, I had my Ipod with me, but they were forced to listen to techno for that 2 and a half hour drive. Sorry girls!

I just popped in my Ipod, and passed out in the back seat of the van, after making baby feet on the window with the side of my hand. Sameen took some pictures of me sleeping, she always does....I'm sure they will find their way to facebook eventually. Our first stop was a small church- from the outside of it, it looked like nothing extraordinary, but of course, the good things are always on the inside.

Upon entering, you just see the yellow walls, the chandeliers and the mosiac way at the back hidden behind some pillars- the guy giving us the lesson spoke very well, we were able to catch almost everything he said- though sometimes we get a little lost when it comes to Biblical terms. Anyways, the mosaic was made at a time when religious art was forbidden, and is 1,200 years old! It's actually a pretty incredible story.

During the Wars of Religion, churches were abandonned, or scavenged, for expensive items- golds, silvers, jewels- and mostly, irrevocably, destroyed. In the case of the mosaic, the pieces were worth very little, so to hide it instead, they painted over it. Instead of destroying, this had a preserving effect. Slowly the paint came off, and apparently the church was abandonned. Well one day, at a nearby school, boys were playing with shiny pieces of glass with their slingshots. A teacher came up to them, said it was beautiful and asked them to show him where they got it.
They took the teacher there- and poked at the ceiling, and shiny pieces of glass fell down. It was at this time, that they cleaned the paint off, and exposed the brilliant picture beneath. The mosaics surrounding, are mostly gone- and ridiculously faded. But this one- is beautiful, so vibrant, and detailed, from the Byzantine era, and overall, 1200 years old, seriously.

Next stop was a "picnic area"- Kevin's criteria for a "place de pique-nique" is pretty simple, in the sun, out of the wind, and with a great view. So, he took us to a castle, that still has its moat- directed us to benches, and then went off to eat at a restaurant, extending the invitation for us to join him when we were done. We sat very close to each other, almost huddled for warmth, and ate our little lunches. The other girls always have home made sandwiches- I always have store bought. I guess our families have a little different of priorities.

We finished our food, our delegated pieces of chocolate cake from Whitney, then headed over to meet Kevin at the restaurant. When we got there, he was very standoffish- he sat at a table with only three extra chairs- well, there are five of us. He didn't help us fix that problem at all, and sat there texting on his phone. Funny- because he invited us. Laura and Whitney had hot chocolate, Charity and Sameen had coffee, and I had tea.

We had another meeting to get off to, so we didn't stay long. But of course we wanted to see the chateau! So we did it in crime fashion- which means that you speed through all the rooms without actually having the time to let all of them soak in. We took funny pictures, then found our way out to the courtyard- where someone decided it would be a great idea to do a human pyramid. Yeah....those will be on facebook too.....

...what was weird is that we were having fun. We were doing something as a group- Kevin had long since retreated somewhere for his sanity, but we were laughing, we were taking pictures together, smiling, being a real group. It was a strange, but wonderful turn of events.
Our next stop was the "Abbaye de Fleury"- where we were met by a Swedish monk- he spoke French, English, Latin, and Italian- talk about your mouthful! Kevin told him to talk to us in French, so he did- very slowly, very clearly, and with this beautiful accent. He was very funny, constantly cracking jokes. At the end of our tour- he asked if we had questions, or anything we wanted to say, and we were all quiet, like normal. He just smiled and said "In English, if you like" and we all rambled off comments we had, about the relics, or the church, I talked about the faded colors on the doorway.

Next he told us about some of the things that the Monks who live there make, like honey, candies, etc.- the candy, is called "Moinillons"- there are shaped like little monks- and there isn't a word that translates into English for that. So he told us to just call candy "Monk-ees"- and when he said that, it was so cute. Laura bought the miel (honey) flavored ones, and shared them in the car. They were surprisingly good, like melt in your mouth as they caress your tongue good- yeah.
Before we headed home, I really had to go to the bathroom, so Whitney and I made our way over to it, it was one of those ones that you would find at like a park. I opened the door to the first stall, and found myself staring at the stand up- toilet. The one Nelson used to always tease me about when I was younger, and would talk about going to France- he would always warn me- I thought he was kidding. But no, there it was- those two little footprints, and that hole that you are supposed to just stand over, and pee. Um, it wasn't happening- I opened the next stall, and found a toilet, thank you. A cold toilet, but a toilet nonetheless.

The ride home, I passed out again, surprise, surprise, it happens everytime I am in that van. More pictures, I'm sure. Dinner last night was a cheese fondue, but really, I just wasn't hungry- granted M & P don't believe me, but really, I just didn't really want anything let alone a bunch of warm cheese. There was fruit salad too, but I didn't linger, mostly because Pierre was here with his girlfriend- so I definitely did not feel like family. I went to bed shortly after.

Today- I had nothing to do, we have more guests for lunch, and Laura and I went out for about an hour, back to the market, still trying to get Christmas ideas...and yeah, Thanksgiving was good, I almost forgot. We went to a little restaurant called Le Zinc, and we had this really good chevre cheese with salad, turkey with mushroom sauce and noodles, and a chocolate cake thing. We didn't get home until like two in the morning though. That was rough. And then get up and go to school? Eesh.....

...anyways, I am about to eat dinner, so I'll write maybe tomorrow if anything else comes to mind.
Until tomorrow- or whenever~~

Story About a Girl

So I am really sorry that I haven't been writing in this for a long time- trust me, I have received enough notifications from everyone to make it seem like I need to write, and I need to write, now. I can't remember as many details as I should from the past weeks- but I'll do what I can for the big stuff.Today is Thanksgiving, and although the French don't celebrate it, for obvious reasons, Kevin has decided that it would be fun to take us all out to dinner. In the past apparently, they had a party at the school for all those involved- the students, their host parents- the whole shenanigan. Though it was too expensive, so now we get a pre-planned dinner at a restaurant Kevin has booked for us. He invited us over for "drinks" beforehand, assuming that everyone brings their own- since the university is unable to purchase alcoholic drinks for the students. He doesn't always stick to that though- because we've been places, for example, my birthday- when he bought a bottle of wine, and divided it among us- minus Laura.
Laura and Charity had signed a school contract before they left- that promises they won't consume any alcoholic beverages while being here. Laura has stuck to it- Charity has not. Charity drinks wine, or champagne, and once she had an Irish coffee. Of course no one really cares enough to do anything about it.
Charity and I are actually not getting along at all. Sameen says this is because we are like "oil and water"- we simply don't mix. And she was very mean all weekend- and I find that whenever I talk to her, I always feel crappy afterwards, so I decided I just wasn't going to have anything to do with her. I have 23 days left in France- I'm not wasting them on stewing over something she said. I deleted her off my facebook- Sameen said this was rash, but really? Why should I have to associate, more than necessary, with someone who always makes me feel bad? Flat answer- I don't.
We have had an excursion for both of the past two weekends- the most recent was a trip to Angiers- to see the chateau there, and visit the Apocalypse tapestry. This is literally a tapestry that has been woven to tell the story- this thing is HUGE. The colors on the side we see are a little dull, but the other side against the wall is much more vibrant. The picture above this paragraph is one of the portions. I mean this thing is crazy detailed...
The morning before we left for Angiers- Laura and I got up really early, and decided that we wanted to be more adventurous. We walked around the city during that Saturday morning-
focusing on the things that we thought would be most interesting. We went to the flower market- where I went crazy taking pictures of the massive bouquets- the vases- the people. We visited some cute shops- picking out ideas for Christmas presents. We went to a hat shop, and ignored the side glances from the employees- giggling to ourselves, and trying on different styles. We just kept turning here, or there- looking for something interesting, something new.

We stumbled across the market out side Les Halles- where we bought a bunch of grapes, a pepper and an avocado. The man who sold the avocado to us- asked when we were going to eat it, what time...and then picked one out and handed it to me. In the car, at noon- when I told him that I would be eating it, I bit into it, and then used a spoon to scoop out the inside. It was delicious. I am really going to miss that aspect of French food- how things are SO fresh, bought daily, how juicy everything is because it comes right from the producer...

...I've been getting more and more involved in photography- sometimes, I just wander off by myself looking for good shots. It makes me really, really happy. Then to come back, and play around with the colors on my computer- to watch how I can manipulate an image to make it be even prettier. I am sad to say that I don't write as much as I used to though- I write little poems next to doodles that I do sometimes- but nothing of real substance.

This really does sadden me though because honestly- I think it's the strongest thing I have going for me. Everyone has that one talent that God gives them- then they develop more as time goes on. Well I can write- I know this, I have an original style- and I know how sentences fit together. I am trying to make photography be another big priority. French is a passing phase, I think.

But I have been working very hard to get good grades- I mean I have the stories, the pictures, the firsthand cultural knowledge, and if I can bring the grades too- I will be really proud of myself. I got one of my written assignments back on Tuesday- and I had a 15 (that's like an A), and yesterday, I got a 16 on my oral comprehension test. If I can just stick to that for the next couple weeks- I will be golden.

All my classes are in order for next semester, which makes me feel pretty secure, the money part is kind of taken care of, I think- and Ireland is coming together. I am working on booking some tours, and then last minute travel things, and am hoping to seriously have the itinerary finished by Monday afternoon. After so much work though, it is fun to see it fall into place. And I know that it will be amazing--

The weekend of December 13th, I don't have any excursions, and I was thinking about maybe going to Paris to see Gill, then realized that "hey, why do Paris again?" So I have been talking with Sameen and we are thinking about going somewhere new- maybe Geneve, I did always want to see the Alps, maybe Switzerland, yesterday she suggested Amsterdam- so my latest expedition is trying to plan that.

I did mention that we have been on two excursions since last writing, the one to Angiers, the other was to Loches. Loches is a city that Patrick and Marie had previously taken me, but will still fun to see it from Kevin's perspective. We went through the chateau, the church, then he took us to Montresor, mostly to go to a little park that he liked there.

That was nice- a little muddy, but oh well. The weather here has generally sucked, like hardcore. Gray skies, cold, rainy a lot. But today, the sky is a new kind of crystal blue, and a little above freezing. I have a lot of classes on Thursdays, most of which I don't like. And today- I am especially tired. I'm not sure why, though I remember feeling the same way at this time last year. Feeling mentally, and physically, quite exhausted. If not for the pre-planned lunch I have with Josh on the 3rd, I would probably just sleep my whole first day home. I call that "pulling an Erica"- everything she ever got home from one of her "adventures"- she would say hi, and then promptly pass out, usually monopolizing the couch.

This weekend we have another excursion- though I don't remember where to, to be honest, I know that we are going to see a very impressive mosaic- it's the first mosaic piece that we'll have seen. We've seen glass, stone, brick, wool, linen- but not mosaic. I'm a little excited. Minus the whole having to spend more time with Charity thing- I'll just make a mental note to bring my headphones.

I'm here to make me happy, not her. I did the high school thing once already, don't really feel like re-living that, thank you. I keep thinking how much more practical it would be to have the excursions on Sundays- chateaux are open on Sundays- nothing else is. Meaning that if we take up the whole Saturday with a trip, we have nothing to do on Sunday. Imagine holidays at home- that's here on Sunday. It's just a dead zone- with the blowing papers covering the streets like tumbleweeds. What do people do here? Marie and Patrick insist that I have to go out, but seriously- there's nothing to do, so....confused?

P & M and I have been getting along pretty well- they don't force conversation on me anymore, when they talk to me, it's generally about something interesting, and I think they have learned that sometimes I just need to be quiet. They talk a lot about their friends, and P's work- well that's great, but I don't have a thing to say about any of that.

They are headed to Paris for the first weekend of December- and I am really looking forward to having the house to myself- I want to watch movies...
...they were gone for one weekend before, and I went downstairs, and picked movies off the shelf and watched them. They were English movies with French subtitles- Chronicles of Riddick, the Matrix, and Batman and Robin- I had Laura and Charity over (this was when I was still talking to her), and we had a pretty good time. We said that it was because it was like we were back at college. I made dinner, and Charity ate with me since she had accidentally told her host mom that she wasn't going to be home.

Yesterday, I had lunch plans with MariaJose, and when I met her, she just smiled and asked me if I minded going to McDonald's...I said it was up to her, so she led the way, and marched us there. It was packed- like more crowded than I had ever been in- but it was nice to just sit down with someone who isn't my friend out of convenience- just because she wants to be- and talk. About her life, her plans, my life, my plans. I miss that so much.

I mean she was the tip of the iceberg, but not even close to the kind of connection I am craving. I just want to have real friends back, you know? Ones who know me- who understand me. Oh well, I'll be home soon enough.

I hope this satisfies you- it's a little look into what I've been doing lately....
...I could probably come up with some more- but I have to get to class....
.......so until then?

You will never get inside, I'm safe inside my head.

Wow, I have a lot to say this round, we'll see how much I remember. I know the public has a "right to know" about my affairs, and I do apologize for the delay. Anyways, on with life then, right?

The new class is going alright, apparently we have HUGE tests next Thursday that I am completely anxious over. We have to go oral comprehension, written comprehension, oral composition, and written composition. Lucky me.

Things with Patrik and Marie are going alright, but I will get to that a little later.

So on Friday I come home from class, super early, after going to the grocery store with Laura. We meet up and then head to the meeting place for Sameen, and then Charity. We walked to where the bus/van was supposed to pick us up and waited for about 20 minutes before we saw the grad students who were joining us for the weekend. Eventually Kevin showed up sporting a smaller bag than all of us.

For a minute, I flashed back to my departure from the house in Tours. I was running around right before I left trying to make sure that I had everything in order. I knew the things for my dinner were in the fridge. So I head down the first flight of stairs and Patrik came out of his room, and says "Don't forget your dinner." And I say, I know Patrik, and he laughs and heads downstairs in front of me. I go into the kitchen while he is digging through a cabinet in there. I open the fridge, take out the sandwich Marie bought for me, the food I bought and put it on the counter. Patrik sees this and says "Take more!" And I laugh and say that I have enough. So he proceeds to cut bread, take cheese out of the fridge, put an apple, two clementines and a hard boiled egg in my bag. I told him it was too much, but he insisted. And in reality, I did eat it all.

Anyways, so I tried to run out the door, and he said "Wait!" And I spun around, and he stood there pointing at his cheek, so I kissed one, then the other. And he said "Happy 20th birthday. Have a good time." And I said thank you, and met Laura outside.

Which brings us back to waiting for the bus. Which shows up- it's a 15 seat van, and the driver's name is Eve. And he doesn't speak a word of English. So we all pile in, in whatever order we want, Laura and I take the back, Whitney in the seat in front of me, Charity and Sameen sit together, and then the grads just kind of cluster in the in between.

We played a few driving games- mostly because it was like a three hour drive. To get to the first hotel- after making a 45 minute stop at a rest area. Anyways, the first hotel, was super small. The room arrangements we learned were 3 in one room, and 2 in the other. Laura quickly grabbed the key for the double, and said "Come on Stacey." I followed her up to the room.

The room was small, with two cramped beds. But that was a TV, and we did try to find something to watch, finding only French channels, so we watched a game show, and something else with relatively simple language. Until it was a little past midnight, and Laura rolled over in her bed, and mumbled "Happy birthday...." before she passed out.

I went to sleep soon after. We slept in as long as we could, then got up, got "pretty" to try to compensate for the melancholic day that we knew we had to look forward to. We went downstairs, leaving our bags in the room, to meet the group, and have breakfast. Breakfast was good- fresh croissants, cereal, fruit. So we grabbed our stuff and piled back in the van.

We drove for about two minutes, arriving at this huge building that just said "Memorial" on the front, only hinting to the displays inside its doors. Upon entering, you just know- you can feel the heaviness seeping out of its walls. And it's a heavy hitter, right then, from the first breath.

Kevin bought our tickets, and we went on. The information in this museum- if that is what you want to call it, is all written in three languages- English, French, and German. Now maybe I should tell you what this is that I am referring to- the memorial is the collection of World War II memories, letters from soldiers, weapons, clothes, newspaper article, recorded conversations, videos- this is the area where D-Day occurs, and it hurts to breathe, with every step. You are provided with a different view completely- instead of seeing the war through America's eyes, you see it through France's. You see destroyed cities, faces, you see the defense strategies, the betrayals, you see the world at the time.

No matter what else you try to think about, you can't close your eyes to the deaths, to the numbers- to the people, and you just keep walking. I finished before the other girls- after watching two movies, one about D Day in particular, the other called Hope, which is supposed to be ironic- because it just shows one after the next of our wars-. The last exhibit is one on September 11th, they have videos, pictures, pieces of rescue trucks, photocopies of the missing, burnt shoes, pieces of the planes- and people are hypnotized by this- they take pictures, and stare at TVs, but I just allow the tears to well up in my eyes, and keep moving along.

Getting into the lobby area of the museum, I went to the gift shop, mostly to kind of distract myself momentarily. It was here, that I found this little music box- I twisted the lever, and it hummed happy birthday happily. It was my birthday, after all, and I was surrounded by strangers, speaking about 10 different languages. I just sighed, put the toy down, and looked around.

Eventually the other girls were done, and we met up for lunch in the cafeteria, I chose a salad and a coke, and we munched, trying to make light conversation. The ride to the American cemetery was silent. None of us tried to lighten the mood, none of us wanted to. At some point in the drive, Laura looked over at me, with this thoroughly upset expression and said "Happy Birthday." She tried to do that as much as she could I think, and she must have told me a million times.

The American cemetery had a little museum of its own- and Laura and I (the common theme of this weekend as I'm sure you've realized, is that was always me and Laura) investigated. We tried to make mental notes of dates, places, names, but they just blended together. We watched a video about the cemetery, and decided to make our way out to the actual crosses.

The walk there was beautiful- it is on a ridge above Omaha Beach, the water sparkling in the sun, and a slight breeze swirling my hair and providing for the whistling sound of the tall beach grass. And then I see them.

A white marble cross, next to another, next to another. Raising my eyes, I realize that is seems endless. I immediately cut up one aisle, reading name after name, date after date. In my head I can picture them coming out of boats onto the shore that was within eyesight. The same beach that children now ran down, bringing buckets of sand back to their parents, only to dump them, plop down, and start molding it. Returning my attention to where I was, I turned around, making sure Laura was still behind me, then I kept walking forward. When I felt compelled, I would take a picture, pausing with a little prayer- and making my way through, what felt like an ever-lasting sadness.

Laura looked at me and nodded, I assumed that meant that she needed to breathe, a similar situation to the breath I was struggling (yet failing to take). So we headed down to the beach, a downhill slope, and a boardwalk away. We expected to feel sad on the beach, to feel solemn to say the least. It was quite the contrary.

When we could feel the sand move beneath our shoes- we giggled. We quickly took our shoes off, and I sat down and just let it soak in. Charity and Laura became the kids on the beach- they ran down the shoreline, looking for shells, and pausing just to look. I followed soon after, but at my own pace. Walking slowly, backwards, to watch the footprints I was leaving- the remnants of my presence there. The prints I was leaving on the previously blood soaked sand, that now could only ever seem to be golden, and smooth. And it was smooth, this was the nicest sand I have ever felt.

We tried to stay on that beach as long as possible- we tried to stay free, and happy- like the Atlantic was the knight for our emotions- fighting to keep those smiles on our faces. But time moves us along, and we climbed back up the hill (and trust me, was that a climb!) and piled back into the bus for another little drive.

We arrived at the German cemetery soon after. This was so much different- there are 2-3 bodies in every grave. Actually, while it is easy to visualize what I mean when I talk about the American cemetery- how you can picture endless row of white marble crosses- I made a video to help with this one. (Sorry, I am not the best camera operator).



We were still left with the remnants of our beach selves, so we found it easier to think here. Not to imply that it wasn't sad either, but it was a different kind of sad. It was no longer tears, but just a deep aching for the people we now gazed upon.

So there we went, back into the bus. And we drove to our hotel, and we could hear the waves, the moment we got off the bus. We ran right up to our room, grabbed cameras and went off to explore. (me and Laura) We found stairs. And suddenly we were back on that shoreline, watching the waves crash, the lights from surrounding building reflecting in the water, and just listened.

We went back up to our room in time to get ready for dinner. And we noticed that out our window, we could see the ocean, and with the window open, we could hear it. Dinner was in the hotel's restaurant, which was actually the nicest restaurant I have been to. We were allowed to get whatever we wanted- BG was paying. So I got a seafood dish. When I say seafood dish- I mean I got crab, oysters, shrimp, scallops, muscles, and escargot- and I ate all of this, overlooking the water.

I ordered creme brulee, which I ate with a smile, and after listening to their conversations (feeling rather annoyed), I finished my wine, and went upstairs to bed. Where I passed out, almost instantly.

We had decided to wake up really early, and go watch the sunrise on Sunday morning. Laura and I were out the door and walking down the sidewalk, when the other three ran after us. We walked pretty far, pausing occasionally, to take pictures of the collage of colors now painting the sky. We found beach access, and we all took off our shoes, and ran around in the water, on the sand.

I wanted you to see this:



We spent about an hour out there, in the freezing water, taking funny pictures, watching the sky highlight itself, brighten the surrounding area, and knowing that it was the start of a new day.

That morning, we went to another D Day museum, watched movies on the construction of the false port, saw models of how everything happened, and saw more letters and awards. Then we went to some of the little tourist-y shops, and went to a little fast food place, where I had another salad. Though it was funny to watch Sameen eat a hamburger and drink a beer.

We went to see the Tapestry of Bayeux, which was incredible. It is quite literally a tapestry, but is VERY long, and had intricate details, and was utterly fascinating. After that, Laura and I explored the area, finding a couple artsy stores, and a cathedral (which I fell down in, go figure, there was a stair there).

We went to Pointe du Hoc, which is another memorial type thing, but it was hard to even be mildly okay with being there- it was down pouring, and Laura and I were soaked by the time we made it back to the van.

Off to Mont St. Michel, where we were spending the night. But when you get close, it's not hard to tell. Looking out the window, now covered with water droplets, I can make out something in the distance. So I wipe the fog off the window and there it is, a huge towering mountain, with a glowing castle on top of it. We get to the parking lot, then make our way up the winding road to our hotel. Drop our stuff, meet Darth Vader, our angry toilet, and Laura and I took off to check it out. We of course meant that we were going to gift shops before dinner at the hotel.

Dinner at the hotel was fun, Laura ordered foie gras, that she was unable to finish, so I had some of that, then Sameen ordered some sort of pasta, which she couldn't finish, and I had that, along with the seafood kabob. Then tiramisu, I am quite the addict for it.

After dinner, the five of us went out to explore the chateau before the tourists got there, we climbed as far as we could go at the time, taking hidden staircases, and being surprised at the wonders literally around every corner. Though it was close to midnight, so Laura and I headed back, and fell asleep after watching some of Gladiator.

I heard that the three got up on Monday morning to see the sunrise there too, but Laura and I woke up for two seconds, and rolled back over. When we did decide to get up in the morning, we laid around watching cartoons, then headed off to breakfast. Breakfast there was good too, more croissants, some ham....shortly after, we all got together and headed off to St. Michel. The area was now very crowded, and a lot harder to navigate.

We climbed the 300 something steps to the top, where we met our tour guide, Alain, who had a French/British/Irish accent, but was hilarious, and he took us through the building and through history. I am sad to say that only of the many stories he told us rests clearly intact in my head: One time, he met with the director of St. Michel, who took him into his office to show him something. The director opened a safe, and pulled out a rosary, saying to Alain, "Do you know why this is so special?" Alain said that he didn't know, and the man replied "It is from an American, who went to the moon. He took three of them (rosary) with him, placing them on the surface of the moon. He had said that if he returned safely, he would give one to the Pope, one at a specific church he knew, and then one to a place where he felt spiritually moved. Well, he gave it to Mont St. Michel."---I can see why, the place is gorgeous.

After our visit there, Kevin gave us time to explore a little more, aka buy things. Which has not been a big problem with me. Basically what's happening, is that I am getting jewelry- jewelry I have never seen anywhere else before- beautiful pieces that I am in love with....

Anyways, so we fight our way through the Japanese tourists, and rain to get back to the van. As we drove away, we pulled over a little ways out, to take our final pictures before hitting the road.

Our next stop was St. Malo- which is this gorgeous beach town, with a huge stone wall encasing most of the city. It was here that Laura and I found a little candy places, she bought crepes, I got macarons. We also ordered sandwiches in a little place, Laura bought cookies, and I got a necklace. We took lots of the pictures of the coastline here, and the sailing school we saw in progress. Laura and I had kind of ditched the other girls, and they were a little mad about it, but oh well.

On the way back, Laura and I talked about actors she didn't know, movies she wanted to see, and songs that she loved. We fell silent for a moment, and then she started making this strange noise. I looked over at her and this is basically what happened:
"What are you doing?"
"I'm humming."
"What is it?"
*makes strange sound louder* "It's a song. A very famous song."
"I don't know it."
"How do you not know it? It is from some famous band that starts with an H."
"Um....okay. It sounds kind of 70s esque....is it classic rock?"
"I don't know, I just know that is starts with an H."
"Okay well, I don't know any classic rock bands that start with an H..."
"What do you know?"
"Oh, ACDC, Van Halen, Led Zeppelin..."
"...that's it!"
"Led Zeppelin does not start with an H...."
"Oh yeah?" *pauses* "Well if you turn the Z sideways, it's an N." *says this with cocky attitude.*
I just look at her and laugh, she does too when she realizes what she just said. And we laugh about that for hours. We were tired.

The rest of the ride consisted of Whitney and Laura and me talking about whether or not I should go home in January. I wanted to have the decision made by Tuesday. So we decided that it might make me happier, or at least, more productive.

By the time I got back to Tours, it was raining, and I was exhausted, and not in the mood for French, so I kindly told Patrik and Marie that I was really tired, it was fun, but sad. Mostly because that's all I could muster.

I have found that being in France, or at least in a francophone country, being a non-native speaker, makes life difficult, obvi. But there is more- you lose who you are, what makes you, well, you. You can't tell jokes stumbling through the language, you can't express emotions, tell stories, you can't be sarcastic, or witty, you don't ever sound intelligent. You are now this quiet, shy, awkward person, who really has no definitive identity of your own. You are just bland. People may get frustrated with you for not talking, thinking that you are uninterested in the conversation, but in reality, you are screaming for contact, just unable to form a sentence. I knew this going into the program, or at least, I was warned, but hearing it, and living it are certainly two completely different concepts.

I don't think anything too exciting happened on Tuesday, but on Wednesday evening, I had a little surprise. Marie had told me that we would have a special little dinner for my birthday. There was foie gras (she thought it was my first time), and seafood kabobs, salad and soup. Then there was dessert, but she wouldn't tell me what it was.

It was cake! Well brownies, really, in a circular pan. She had bought candles, and that little wax 20 thing. She sang happy birthday to me in English, took my picture, then Patrik wanted to be in it too, so she took one with me and him and the cake. They told me to make a wish, and then Marie gave me a little present. They were these beautiful black chandelier earrings- she said that she had noticed a common trend in my jewelry, and saw it- and knew instantly that I would love it. So I blew out all the candles, after making 2 delicate wishes. They clapped and cheered. We ate the brownies, which stuck to the dish at first, with English creme, and at that moment, it was almost like being in a family again. Patrik and Marie just talked about where they were when they were 20- how these are the best years of my life. How lucky I am, how much they know I miss being home- but just think, what a story to tell.

And I had to give them that, no matter how I feel about this trip, now, or in 20 years, it is quite the story! Look what I did! I went to France, I stepped way out of my box, I survived on my own- I did that...it is something to be proud of myself for, no matter how frustrated I get.

Though I did have a little break session yesterday. We had this one worksheet for homework- and I just did not understand. I was getting really frustrated. So I went downstairs, asked Marie for help- which left me even more confused, and lost in translating what she was telling me. I just went back upstairs, stared at it, until dinner. Ate rather quietly, then went back to work. I still didn't understand it this morning (Friday) when I came here.

I tried to converse with my classmates, but they didn't get here on time. When we got to class, she asked if anyone had any problems, I said yes- that I just could not understand when to use it. So she explained how to use it- I got that part already. Well, as it turns out, everyone was lost. Even the ones who thought they understood.

But I think I get it now. We also had a written comprehension test today, which I think I did okay on. And then conversation, but it was with our written teacher. I felt unusually comfortable today, so I volunteered to talk, and answered a bunch of questions when the class fell silent. After class today, my teacher pulled me aside and thanked me. She said that it makes everything flow a lot smoother if someone actually responds....and said she really appreciated what I said. That was encouraging!

In other news, the other night, Patrik asked me if I liked the movie "Planete des Singes". And I said, "Yes, but I haven't seen it in a while." So he asked me the name of it in English, I said Planet of the Apes, and he said "Non, non, non, singe, c'est 'monkey' en anglais." I told him that I know this, but it was called apes in the film. He didn't believe me, so he went to grab the cover of the movie, showed me, I confirmed it. He then asked me what an ape was, and I told him a type of monkey. He accepted this. I asked him if he wanted to watch it with me this weekend. And he said he would love to- because apparently Marie doesn't like it.

So I did make the final call, and I will be coming home in January. In the end, it just felt better for me. I had to forget what everyone else wanted, what everyone else said- I was selfish, and I chose me. And so far, it's just like this giant weight off my shoulders. I feel better about being here, like I am going to enjoy my time more. I still haven't talked to Patrik and Marie about it, but one step at a time, I suppose.

Okay, wow, this is crazy long- I'm sorry, but I figured that you needed a real update about things. This weekend is so far pretty uneventful, so soak this up---
---thanks for reading guys, I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

A Walk on the Wild Side

I know I have kind of been a bit of a slacker lately, and I am sorry about that...not all that much has been going on, though I know as soon as I start explaining it, it will sound completely different.

So on Monday, while in class, doodling this amazing picture, I came to a realization- I can do whatever and still understand what Florence is saying. And how much I love her- I mean she is SO energetic and enthusiastic, and I just think she is so much fun! And re-learning stuff is realistically a good review, right?

Well, yesterday, I spent the entire class listening to her talk about the difference between "pendant", "dans" and "il y a", realizing that I learned this in the 9th grade. She assigned homework that I glanced at, and did it in my head. Just like that. So I waited until everyone left, went up to Florence, and said "Since I already understand this, can you give me something to do that is a little harder?" *At least this is what I think I said* And she just looked at me and smiled, saying "You know what Stacey? I think you might want to consider moving into level 3. Your french is too advanced for this class." And then walked away, without another word about it.

Today, I went to class and we were learning passe compose, and I just sighed. So I sat there, put in a headphone, and doodled. Every once and a while, I would look up, answer a question, Florence would smile at me, and go "shh...." and I would just smile, and doodle. At a break, she sat down and wrote something, I went off to get some candy, and when I came back, Florence told me to go to the secretary, and I could switch classes. And I said "But I write better than I speak, and I only speak on a level two scale." She told me that I should have some confidence, that I was better than the people in level two, and smiled, waving goodbye.

I looked around and MariaJose gave me kind of a sad smile- we have become quite the duo. Nattathawarin just kind of nodded, but I went through my notebook and found the group assignment that I was working on with the three Mexicans...wrote down some notes on on it (mostly because I was the one writing it...) and gave it to MariaJose, and told her to facebook whenever. Especially about the sushi lunch we had been planning for the free time next Tuesday.

So I go to the secretary, who tells me to go to the other secretary, and the next says the same, until the last just asked me my name, and for my book back. Went out of the room, coming back with a different book and workbook. So I went to the class, now in a different building and they were all silent, listening to something. I wasn't allowed to move until it finished. The teacher, Monique seemed angry, almost bitter. She told me that I came in the middle of a test, unfortunately for me, and handed me a piece of paper. Great. So I took it, a comprehension orale test mind you, and tried, at least. After that, class was almost over. So she had everyone go around the room, say their name, nationality, and profession of choice.

Then lunch, at which MarieJose came to find me, curious as to how it went, I told her, she said "Ouch." And then we continued to remark on this group of Americans next to us: how loud, obnoxious, hyper, arrogant they were. And I asked her if she thought that I was that ridiculous, she kind of laughed and said, "No, actually I forget you're American sometimes. You don't watch trashy shows, you don't eat fast food here, you don't eat meat, you don't like Starbucks, ha, I'm more American than you are." We just laughed and laughed. And then, reassuringly, she told me that my American accent was not even that bad....and then we headed off to our separate classes.

I went to the next class, with the other teacher, Nicole, who seemed even angrier than the first. But this was the written part, and this is where I understand how to do things, how to save things, grammar - so I understood what we read, the questions we had to answer, and I even answered a couple times, paying close attention to how everyone else sounds.

My schedule is now different, and I don't really like it as much as I liked the other one. But there are two gaps where I had classes before, and I don't now. I think I am going to consider asking Alexandra if I can come to the phonetiques for level two on those days, since I am not so great with oral french.

Anyways, now that I am on a higher level, I have the opportunity to take French History and French Culture, but I haven't decided if that is an option I care to pursue. In other news, I have been looking into the price of coming home, but have made no decision in either direction.

Let's see, this past weekend was pretty interesting. On Friday, the girls and I were supposed to get together for drinks, but that fell through. But on Saturday, we went to Chinon, which was great, since I had forgotten my camera the last time, and I got to take all the pictures that I had taken in my head the previous weekend. The weather was gorgeous, and have provided for probably my favorite pictures yet. We also went to Fontevraud (or something like that), which was a gorgeous castle...that night when we got back, we all stood on a corner, making plans for drinks that night.

I remembered that Patrik and Marie had a wedding to go to, so I figured that wasn't any dinner available. I mean I knew Pierre was in town, supposedly, but that didn't have anything to do with me. So I went with Laura to get food- her parents were out too, and she didn't want to eat alone. So I did, I heard my phone ring at some point, tried to get to it, but missed it. And the wonderful thing about these phones is that it is virtually impossible to check missed calls, and I can't call my voicemail. So I had no idea who called.

Anyways, after dinner, we headed back to my house to grab my warmer coat, to meet Sameen and then walk to Charity's meeting spot. So I walk in, hear a lot of voices, but disregard them, mostly because we are running late, and I have to go to the bathroom so much. Laura and I make it up the first flight of stairs, and then I hear "Allo?" from downstairs, and we climb back down. To meet gorgeous son #2. So I smile, and it's really awkward, and he says "Hi, I'm Pierre." And then something else...looking at Laura, then me. So I say "Hi, I'm Stacey. This is my friend Laura." And he asks me if I am the one who live there, and I reply, to which he asks if I would like something to eat. I say no, I already ate, and am now just grabbing a coat and heading out. He seems kind of confused, but says okay, and I run upstairs.

On my way out, I walk over to the kitchen door, see about 7 guys sitting there, drinking and smoking, and wave to Pierre before running out the door, both because we are late, and because WOW, that was awkward. So I take off down the street, Laura following, yelling "Since when are you athletic? I didn't know you could run..." I just laugh. Laura almost gets run over by this old guy on a bike, who makes a sound, much like that of a dying cat. Laura just freezes, and squeals, which he mimics, and keeps riding. So we get for drinks, have awkward moments with Charity and her friend, then we head home.

I go to bed after talking on the phone for hours, finally making an appearance downstairs at like noon. I am met at the bottom of the first flight of stairs by Marie, who tells me that she tried to call me last night. Pierre and his friends apparently had been waiting for me, and waited like 3 hours, and yeah...but honestly, I didn't get back from the excursion until later, and I didn't even know. Plus Pierre never said a word. So I said I understood, and I'm sorry. Then went downstairs, only to be met by Patrik, who gave me the same lecture.

Ouch. So I apologized profusely, and tried to explain, clumsily. He said he understood, telling me about a little party they were having at the house with the family. I hid. I felt so bad about Pierre and his friend waiting! Marie came and found me, and asked me if I was scared, which I was, and told her honestly. And she just explained that they weren't mad, she was just worried about me, since it was so late before I got back. I sat through the party- which was actually just a lunch. They were having roast beef- and I have eaten most of the meat products they have served for dinner, but when they cut this, blood ran onto the chopping board, and the middle was VERY pink. And I just no....upon hearing this, Patrik made me some eggs (still not cooked all the way) to which I ate. And felt sick about later.

That day, I decided to people watch. I went to the park, and just watched- children play, the role of Dads, old people- and I listened, hearing bits and pieces of conversation. Delighting in the way children shout, and how simple French becomes, and wonder why I have never paid more attention to the English that children in America speak.

Patrik and Marie took me to the movies with them to see "Le Crime est Notre Affaire" It's a movie adaptation of Agatha Christie's book, and I understood a lot of it, except maybe the ending, which Patrik promptly explained in the car. We got a pizza (nothing like ours, I knew this, but still found myself disappointed), and headed home.

Let's see, any other highlights? This weekend, we are going to Normandy, to see Mont St. Michel, which is great, but Saturday is my birthday, and we are spending the entire day at cemeteries. Modern cemeteries. *sigh* I'll find something to make it better, maybe a fancy dessert at some elegant restaurant or something. Really though, I am just going to wait, and celebrate when I get home with my friends.

So a harder class, yeah, great. I guess it's good in the sense, that my French isn't THAT bad, and if I stayed next semester, I would be in level 4, and I hear that once you complete level four, one is practically fluent. I think I am going to read the French grammar book that is in my room at home, and go to the library, and look at like pre-teen books because I think that I can read those comfortably, and see what I can do from there.

I talked about this with Kevin, who said that I was an interesting case. Like for testing in level 2, it was crazy that I wrote like I did in Paris. Level 2 students struggle and struggle to write, but I wrote more than the other girls, and just as well. And it totally threw him off, but he was SO impressed with me. Way to tell me this now....

...I may also consider reading French cookbook, I think that could be fun, and a different approach at French. Or even just craft books or something. Something that is not so tedious- that is actually real French. Patrik has a newspaper on the counter in the kitchen every day- I think I will try to read it, highlight words that I don't know, and become more studious about writing it down.

While I don't really care for French as much as I use to, it deserves an adequate amount of attention, to say the least.

I think that's all I have for today, I'll try to write again before we leave for the weekend, but if not, I'll talk to you after the trip.

I guess I should just work on enjoying my last 3 days as a teenager.
On to bigger and better things~~
~~~like always for me.

Over the Hill and Through the Woods, to Grandmother's House We Go?

So yesterday morning, Patrik and Marie invited me to go somewhere with them and do something, but I couldn't really understand. I had slept in until like noon yesterday and then got around. I went downstairs and Patrik begged me to eat something at THAT moment, so I popped some grapes in my mouth and he asked if I wanted to eat breakfast or lunch, casually gazing at the clock. I said lunch, so he went back to work carving meat off a chicken. I went upstairs and came down a little while later, and we ate at the little table behind the house, in the garden. And Patrik and Marie talked amongst themselves, with me sitting in the middle. And just listening.

For dessert, we had strawberries, which are surprisingly fresh, with maple syrup on top of them. It's funny really, we were told to bring something for our parents, and maple syrup was what I brought....we eat it here more often than I do at home...Patrik just loves it, eats it by the spoonful. Anyways, they said we were going to leave in a couple minutes, and I just shrugged and said okay.

Then the conversation changed to the types of shoes I have, and was I sure I wanted to wear my sneakers. At this point, I am thoroughly confused, and wondering just what I agreed to....

....so we get in the car, after arguing with them about shoes, then finally putting my flip flops in the trunk. And Patrik turns around, asks me if I know Led Zeppelin, then blares the music for miles, with all the windows down.

We drive for about an hour and we get to this place that's gorgeous, we're out of the city, and the trees are starting to change, there are not really houses anymore, just trees, and Patriks turns left onto this beaten path and continues speeding.

So he pulls up to the edge of some of these trees, and goes, alright we're here. I look around, there are no other cars in sight, no people, not anything. And he says let's go! And I am thinking "go where?" So we get out, Marie hands me a water bottle, which I thank her for, then throw back into the car. Patrik hands me a bag, and at this point, I am really confused.

So we walk into the woods, Patrik staring at the ground and kicking leaves out of the way, Marie going off and coming back with a stick....what is happening?

I finally get up the nerve and say, "Wait, what are we doing?" And Marie says, with a huge smile "We are looking for mushrooms." And in my head, I remembered what they said, and suddenly it made sense. I guess they thought it was going to be muddy, thus the change of shoes because afterward, they wanted to take me to Chinon.

We spent an hour searching for mushrooms, we never did find anything. Patrik was really into it, he would crouch down and move ferns and look, turn over logs, and Marie and I just walked at a leisurely pace behind him, just talking. That morning she had asked me what I like to do on the weekend, and I had just shrugged awkwardly. But here, in this stress-free environment, I felt open to her. I told her how much I love to scrapbook, what I use to do so, how there is really nothing to do in BG or Geneva for that matter, so we don't really do all that much, but we make our own fun.

At this point, she tells me that she loves to paint, and actually made the mosiac table in the living room. There is apparently a craft store outside of Tours that she would love to take me to, she loves going there, and welcomes the idea of having someone to go with her. She told me that she could get me a book for my birthday, and asked me if I would like that, I told her she didn't have to get me anything, but she insisted.

During this conversation , I had been weaving a halo out of wildflowers I had picked, she told me that I was very crafty, and I thanked her. We got in the car and headed off to Chinon, and if there was ever the time to have my camera with me, that was it! But I had left it, and my purse back at the house, since they told me to wear good shoes, I guess I had imagined hiking?

Anyways, this village was gorgeous, and Marie knew so much about it, she would tug on my hand and pull me into little crevices to look at the framework, tell me to peak my head through gates to try and peak, and she was like full of life, picking leaves from trees, breaking them, and getting them to me to smell. We walked like this for a while, her telling me about the city, about Joan of Arc's escapades in the city...

As we walked past a window we heard English, and Marie pulled me over, and stood with me right below the window, eavesdropping. Then we ran over to Patrik and laughed. He asked what the person had been talking about, and I said that he was telling a story about (in reality he was talking about being arrested), but I didn't know the word for that, so I imitated handcuffs and made the "wee--ooh" noise that the police cars make here. And they laughed.

Then Patrik read a sign, while Marie and I walked down by the river, just listening to the leaves crack under our feet, no need for talking. We stopped at a little cafe for our drinks of choice, then headed home. I fell asleep on the drive.

When we got back, I went upstairs to work on the huge amount of homework I had, and when I came down Patrik had made these beautiful salads, normally we just have lettuce, but last night, it was lettuce, hard boiled egg, chicken, some weird spice, tomatoes, a kind of cheese,and the dressing we usually have. After dinner, Marie decided that I was going to make the crepes, which is hilarious because I don't even cook at home....but she read me the recipe and I added the ingredients, and it was kind of fun. Then she taught me to cook it the way her grandma taught her, and I flipped it, and yeah. It was pretty good (with the syrup, of course). Marie read the label and said "What is 'French toast', you know, out of curiosity?" And I laughed because really there is nothing "French" about French toast, and attempted to explain it with little to no success.

Then she asked if I knew a movie that was playing that night, and I looked and it was When Harry Met Sally, in French! But I still had a lot of homework to do so I turned it down.

At the party on Saturday, I learned something very important about Marie- her civil, outward appearance exists with her friends even. And yesterday, I saw a completely different, more open side of her.

We are going somewhere again today, though who knows where? She speaks so fast...

...we had our actual teacher today. And wow, is she a bundle of ecstatic energy. Like whoa, but that is a story for a different time and place, as is, I have to get home early today for the mysterious outing.

Hope you enjoy~
S

Awkward Moments- clap, clap, clap, clap, clap.

Yesterday I stayed until my normal time at school but I guess they lock the doors or something because I got stuck locked inside the building. So me being the clever idiot I am decided to look for an alternative route, and I remembered the tour of the school from the first day and knew I could get outside through the "cafeteria" (really, it's a room with a coffee machine) and I opened the door to the outside world. So now I get out of the building and in the little gated garden, and walk over to the gate which is locked. I know the building is locked because that door always is. I knew that when I went out it. Anyways, so now I was stuck outside in that little garden with no where to go and some guy saw me, and asked if I needed help. And I nodded. So he asked if I needed to get out. And I nodded and he told me to follow him, and went inside this building and kept turning corners inside, and it was some bar that was full of a bunch of guys, just guys. And I was like great. And so he leads me past the bar and points to a hallways. And of course my head is just reminding me constantly what an idiot I am.....and then I get to a doorway with a bunch of guys smoking, then push my way through, out the door, on to a street that I had never seen before.....great....that was an extra 20 minute walk home.....

...And for today, I got to sleep in until 10, then promptly went back to sleep until 11:30. At that point, I finally got ready to go- spending extra time getting myself ready, trying to look pretty for no reason, in particular- I wasn't even sure why. But then I went downstairs and learned that I had the house to myself. Score! So I poured my cereal into the bowl that was sitting on the table for me, got out some yogurt and put in my headphones to overpower the sound of the neighbor's dog...anyways, so I finish eating and get up to put my bowl in the sink. And I thought I may have heard the door a few minutes ago, but there was nothing else, so I assumed I was wrong. Anyways, I look up, and there is the most attractive guy I have ever seen standing in the doorway of the kitchen.

Obvi, I froze, and just kind of stared at him...and then Marie comes in behind and says, "Stacey, c'est Gregoire." Gregoire is her son, for those of you who have missed the memo, and I have seen a picture of him, several actually and thought that he was borderline attractive, but in person, whoa. Anyways, so he comes up to me (I'm still holding my bowl and spoon) and kisses both of my cheeks and says Enchante. And I just nod....and then he starts speaking to me this very rapid, beautiful French....and I just stare at him. And he smiles, revealing these pretty white teeth and goes and takes off his blazer, comes back and says "So you are from America?" in English, but with this perfectly wonderful accent. And I say, yes. And then he asks where, and I say Ohio. And he says where in Ohio, and I just say do you know where Cleveland is? And he said no, and I just smile, and say that's okay....and put my bowl in the dishwasher and practically run upstairs. To do what any girl would do in this situation....call someone and tell them.

I looked at the clock, and realized it was 6:30 home time, and decided to call Dan- mostly because it was my first impulse. Well I called once, he didn't answer. So I called again, and am greeted with this very angry/groggy "Hello?" and I say "Hey..." And he goes, "Why are you calling me at 6:30 in the morning on a Saturday?" again in the angry voice. And I think of Gregoire....and then I say "I call you this early every morning get over it. Guess what just happened?" So I tell him about this, and he clears his throat and goes "So you just met the most attractive guy you have ever seen?" And I say yes. And he says "And he had the most beautiful accent?" Yes. And "And he kissed your cheeks?" Yes. "And your first impulse was to call me?" And I said yes. And he just responds "I love you too" And I laugh, I guess that IS what it meant....

....anyways, I ran into Gregoire again before leaving, trying to get out of here for as much of the day as I could...but you know, it never works the way you want.

Though today I did go see the film, Vicky Cristina Barcelona, and thoroughly enjoyed it. The movie was in English, but with French subtitles. I liked it a lot, Sameen and I saw that, and then the other three saw a French film and hated it. Upon learning this, I felt a little smug...they refused to see a movie that they might enjoy because it HAD to be in French, and then they hated it.

The next plan was to go shopping, but I am on a STRICT budget these days so I just window shopped, buying things only in my dreams....

..we all split, Sameen to buy some clothes, Whitney to do homework, Charity and Laura still attached at the hip going off to some park, and here I am, typing away. But a promise is a promise, I will keep this going.

Laura and I were supposed to go out tonight after our respective dinners, mostly because Marie is having a party, and I really didn't want to be here, and Laura said she would go with me. Well, she canceled our plans, shocker, so I am going to be stuck here. (It's not really safe for girls to go out after dark by themselves here, just like any other place). But I think Marie is worried because I don't just go hang out with my friends like every night.

If I had friends here, I might. What I have, is a handful of acquaintances, and just when I think they might be friends, it changes VERY quickly. Like I kind of thought Laura and I were becoming friends, but today she was just so cruel with some of her comments and then waiting so last minute that I can't even make any other plans for tonight.....Fiona at school has ups and downs or friend-like tendencies....

...but I guess I didn't come here for friends.
I came here for the experience.
And I guess, if I am getting, it's a definitely, an experience.