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.

The Crossroads of Interests- La Croisement d'Interets

I guess at some point it would be good, or rather healthy of me to really focus and point out the things that I like about being here....because such things do exist.

a) Shoes- Though they don't really have a lot of styles in my size here, that is irrelevant. I have this policy that shoes will tell a lot about a person- heels means this, this style means that..., much like Sameen's policy with the kinds of coffees people offer. Here, I have seen the tackiest shoes ever, and some of the most beautiful, and it really is that interesting. However, I did indulge and buy two pairs just because it had to be done- a pair of purple heels, and a pair of black boots...

moving away from vain topics....

b) I love the Chateaux, I know in English the word in plural form is spelled with an "s" but frankly, it doesn't look right to me anymore, after memorizing french constantly...anyways, they are beautiful. I am only showing you guys a few of the MANY pictures I have of them via my facebook, but I swear I have tons, so if you want to see more when I get back, just ask!

c) The children. I love hearing little kids speak French, this might be because I understand fully what they are saying, or maybe because of how disciplined they are, or even how adorable their little faces are. Almost all the little girls have curly hair, and petticoats.

d) The diversity- it's nice to go to a class and be surrounded by people from literally the whole world. In my class, there are Korean, Japanese, Chinese, Thailandaise, Arabian, Mexican students, and I am the only American. This has its benefits and its cons. A lot of these students speak at least a little English, my teacher does not, but if any one does not understand she says, "Comment dire en anglais...Stacey?" And she waits for me to explain it to them in English, which is hilarious because she flat out has to just assume I know what she's talking about. I do, a lot, but sometimes I will just look at her, then at them, and shrug.

As a general sidenote, I had to work with a Japanese student yesterday. We were all assigned partners, and Alexandra said that I was going to be his professor for the day. Well, we were supposed to pick a newspaper or magazine article and give a presentation on it. We went to the library and had our pick. Anyways, I went up to him and asked what his interests were and Poshin, the Japanese student, said "Je ne sais pas" and I kind of looked at him skeptically. How can you not know what you're interested in, I thought. Anyways, he picked a newspaper, then picked an article before reading its title. The article ended up being about the communication between Paris and Baghdad...he didn't know where Baghdad was. He didn't understand English, or French, just Japanese....so I got a map and showed him. And I read the article out loud, pausing on words I didn't know, and looked them up, making him look them up as well. And I paused after every paragraph and asked him if he understood, he never responded....anyways, I went in the other room, and everyone else had already had written a page and a half. So I went back and asked him if he wanted to write it too, and he just said "Non." So I asked him why he chose this specific article and he didn't know. So I wrote that I chose it because it was important for me, as an American, and continued to write it on my own. I told Alexandra, who promptly replied, oh I know, you will just have to do it by yourself. You can handle it.

Is that a compliment?? I don't know...but I had to do the expo by myself, while everyone else had active partners. I guess group projects are the same everywhere....but the rest of the class picked articles about clothes or food or something, and here I am trying to present French politics because of well "je ne sais pas", ugh, but it launched into this conversation about politics with the class--and now they think I am a feminist, environmentalist, politician if "such thing exists in America" they said.

e) I am starting to get along with Marie better, at least she is warming up, conversation is not as forced.....but it is starting to be with Patrick, I have figured out a basic time frame though to minimize yet strengthen my time with them....and find other things to do.

f) I love window boxes full of flowers. All the houses are like apartments here, so they are skinny and tall, and compressed, but they have the flower boxes, and all the flowers are still blooming and beautiful and I love to pass them by on the street.

g) I love going home from school at 7:30, right after the sun starts to set, and it's one of the reasons I stay here so late. I love watching the sunset at the end of the roads I walk by to go home.

The number one thing I miss from home right now: Fall. I miss the colors of the leaves, jumping in piles and laying there with Joanne and Paul, drinking cider, having that smell, carving pumpkins, the crisp weather, late night walks with Joanne......

I don't really have any good host family stories today....but I'm sure I will have some on Monday...

....so day by day, I move along, try to learn three new words a day at least, and get along with my classes, talk to Marie and Patrik a little everyday, have my every so often conversation with Dan or Erica, and whoever else if you get Yahoo or get up early.....

...anyways, like I said I'll post on Monday!

school is a drag in any hemisphere

There are a couple things I really like about school here:

a- There is a designated time for "phonetiques" and we all go to a room and put on these huge headphones and just recite the French that has been said to us, it records, and then we play it back and hear how we sound when we speak French. It's kind of funny because it is just another time when my American accent becomes blatantly clear to me... I don't like that so much, but I love not having to interact and being able to personally focus on my weaknesses...

...b- lunch break, every day, is an hour and a half long, you know, if they let us out on time...which never really happens....

---We never start on time, we never finish on time, we never break on time, I hate this. I am usually compulsively on time, and it is driving me crazy.

c- While I can't understand my classmates' French, Japanese, Korean, Spanish, Chinese, I can sometimes understand their English, so I have made a few acquaintances- by that I mean, purely superficial friends.
Fiona- from Taiwan, but she studied in the US for a while, so her English is much better than others.
Maria Jose- I can understand most of what she says, but she has a heavy Spanish accent (she is Mexican...)
and maybe this one girl, I don't her name but she sits next to me every evening at school at the computer tables, and is the last to leave with me, and we joke and laugh...

I still am not really liking French, and today was horribly boring. My teacher, Alexandra, is just repeating and repeating herself. Like she spent 3 hours on the same exercise today, and I felt like jacking her in the face.

Point of the story being, I am picking up new hobbies to ease the anger, I doodle constantly, I am going to start writing poetry again, I am keeping this as up to date as I can, I am becoming a better pen pal, I promise, I am focusing on the pictures, and the French life, and not worrying about the language.

I started heavily planning Ireland today, and that made me pretty happy....though I know as soon as I go home, Patrik is going to drill me of the same things.....

ugh....I miss home.

A Little Recap

Erica is right, I should probably just vent my frustration with the trip, you may get some laughs out it, you might not, who knows? But the ride has been interesting, I'll tell you that much.

My details thus far may seem sporadic, but had I not been such a procrastinator, you would have more of an order, as is, this is what I've got:

The days leading up to the trip were the beginnings of my doubt about this extravaganza, and I remember feeling nervous, and doubtful. Pre-departure nerves, I know, but I couldn't help it.

I remember fighting with my mom over eating, after deleting the numbers out of my cell phone (and believe me, that was quite the tragedy), and eventually getting KFC and eating it frantically in Dan's car, following Nelson in the car, and getting to the airport.

But we parked, which is crazy in itself, Dan being the guy of the group, I guess, carried the heavy bag, and I just remember mom going “Dan, that’s heavy, she is going to have to learn how to carry it.” And Dan replying “she is going to carry it enough as it is…” And then me just remarking to myself on how nice of a gesture that was, and how it was all too true…

….check-in was flawless, and we didn’t even get there until about 20 minutes before my boarding time. The good bye with Nelson was brief, a hug and a good luck, and he walked away munching on his chicken. Mom said some slight words of encouragement and then ran off leaving me with Dan, who just stood there saying something I think, but I really couldn’t listen. All of a sudden, Mom runs back crying, and says “I forgot to tell you I love you."

So Dan says all the stuff he is supposed to: the I love you, I will miss you, I don’t know what I am going to do without you, you know, all the stuff a girl has to hear before she gets on the plane. And then it’s time to go, just like that. So I kiss him goodbye, and get in the security line, and wait. For what seems like forever, casually glancing over my shoulder, Dan is still standing there. And from how far I am away, it looks like he is crying but every time he catches my eye, he smiles. And I think that is what hurt the most. He said he would stay until he couldn’t see me anymore, and he did.

Then I passed through the security, and actually began my journey.

By this I mean, I walked to my gate, and sat down, jammed closely against two other passengers, which little did I know, but now serves as the beginning of the “European” experience. I read the card Dan gave me, allowed one tear to fall, and then got on the plane. I don’t really remember who I sat next to a couple who smelled really bad, only because a family of four had taken my spot by mistake, and eventually made it to the airport. I checked into Air India, which was a fiasco. Then found a payphone, and called Dan, so he could distribute the information. Later calling Erica to give her an update.

Then, I sat on my but for like 2 hours waiting for the flight, and I saw the most beautiful Indian woman I had ever seen, as it turns out, she was a flight attendant for my flight. So I get on the plane, and sit next to this attractive French guy (usually an oxymoron) and watched Juno, Stranger than Fiction, Medium, and who knows what else, while casually drifting off, only to be awoken by the curry or whatever else we ate on that LONG flight.

So we land, and we get off the plane, and I go through customs, then head to the restroom before trying to find my bag, and this is where I first learned about public restrooms in France. I mean, I know I was here last year, and inevitably used them, but I don’t remember this kind of encounter. Well, the guy’s bathroom doesn’t really have a door, and they all just kind of go, right there. So honestly, I have seen more penises in the past month, than my entire life, and I am not too happy about the situation. Oh, and sometimes, the girls share the bathroom, so those moments are even better.

Anyways, I find my bag and throw it onto my back, then head towards the Sheridan, the hotel we are supposed to be meeting the infamous Kevin. I tried to use one of the phones, but with just an American calling card, not so much. Eventually I round the corner, and see two girls sitting there in piles of luggage and I hear “Stacey?”

This is the introduction of Charity and Laura. I learned a few things about them that day, for that hour we sat together. Charity, is engaged, she is a senior in French, doesn’t know what she wants to do with her life and goes to school with Laura. Laura, is single, a junior in French Early Education, and knows exactly what to do with hers. They casually lean and whisper jokes to each other, and I sit there feeling awkward, which now, has become a familiar characteristic of the trip.

Eventually Sameen shows up, and having previously conversed with her via facebook, I thought there would be more of a connection, and I was disappointed when she seemed nothing like what I thought she would be.

And then there was Kevin. A short blonde haired man, wearing a BRIGHT pink shirt, and drinking an espresso comes up to us, and opens his mouth and just spews French at us, now, we had all just gotten off a 7-9 hour flight, depending, so you can imagine what our comprehension skills were like. I am pretty sure we all just nodded and put on our excited faces, and then followed him when he started to walk away in hopes that we were supposed to be following him. He just turned around to make sure we were following and then practically ran down the stairs. Me and my backpack are close behind, Charity is next with her two duffels and one wheelie suitcase, and then Laura and Sameen struggling to get down the stairs, with bags over 60 lbs! You can imagine the sight. Needless to say, we couldn’t move fast enough to get on the first train, so got on the second shortly after.

As we sat on the train, an awkward silence came over the group. This is when I decide to lighten the mood and tell the bag story from last year. In the event, that I have forgotten to mention this story at a previous time, last year, I had the back pack on, and the metro doors in Paris actually closed on it, and I was stuck, and Erica just tried to pull me in, was unable to do it, then a man had to get up and hit some button opening the door and flinging me onto the train. Point of the story being, that our trip would be successful as long as none of us got caught in the treacherous doors…and I am proud to say that we made it the whole trip without that kind of complication.

Anyways, so we make it to our stop and head into the hostel, the rooms are doubles, and instantly, Laura and Charity cling to each other, and Sameen and I just look at each other and shrug. We are handed our keys, and head up, one-by-one, mostly because the elevator doesn’t seem to be able to fit more than one of us at a time.

The room is cute, and Sameen starts unpacking promptly, putting this here and this there. I hesitate and don’t end up unpacking until like four days into the trip. C + L decide they are super tired, and want to just rest at the hostel, but Sameen and I go out “exploring” thinking that this will be the first of our many outings. *Sidenote, this was the only outing we ever went on together* Anyways, we went to look for something famous, since that is what she claimed to want to see and found the Luxembourg gardens. Ironically enough, we had been following signs to get there, when in all reality, as we learned the next day, it was across the street the whole time.

We took pictures, mine of places, Sameen of her face mostly, and then headed back to take a quick nap before going to dinner with Kevin that night. And at that dinner, we learned how awkward it was going to be to have to spend any time with Kevin. I swear sometimes he just has spasms and will move his head sporadically around and just stare at us, and up until this point, still has not spoken a word of English. That night was rough; the bed kind of reminded me of a hospital bed, stiff, cold, and sheets like paper. In the morning, we went to get our ids and tours of the school, and then after that, things start to blur, so at this point, I will tell the stories:

At one point, there was a plan to try to do stuff as a group, but that never worked out, other than the mandatory school excursions. Though cliques formed very quickly.

I guess we should explore life with Sameen: to begin with, conversations with Sameen were always very deep- one time, I was typing an email to BG, and I looked over and she was just laying there in bed, so I figured I would go for it. “What are you thinking about?” I ask and she just sighs and says “Clothes.” And I kind of just give her a puzzled look. And she says “You know, like outfit combinations, and shoes. God, I love shoes.” At this point, I sighed, and went back to typing. I learned that Sameen has made out with 27 different guys, loves to smoke, misses it terribly, and I think she may be a closet alcoholic. I mean the girl drank wine out of the bottle every night in Paris, and she was always remarking on “how good she was being there. How we were such good influences” and she would say this before chugging and I would just laugh.

Sometimes she would get really depressed at night, and this was a drastic change from her daily demeanor. As is, she was generally perky, somewhat narcissistic, but sometimes she would fall asleep clutching her teddy bear with one arm, and the wine bottle in the other. And proceed to mumble about how lonely she was, and I would get up, take the bottle, put it in the fridge, then turn out the light and go back to my computer.

I found that it was easier to just look busy, typing imaginary emails to people, it spared me from conversation, about Shark Tooth (#17, I think, on Sameen’s lip lock list) and listening to the girls giggling next door. This reminds me, for like the first week and a half, they were attached at the hip. Then Sameen slowly started becoming attached with them, but she would come back at night, and say she liked Charity a lot more, and later, Laura told me she thought Sameen was kind of self-centered, though now, ha, you could never tell.

So we went on excursions with Kevin-Saint Chapelle (this is the church with the incredible window situation), Versailles, the Louvre, the Colonnade, Place de la Concorde, pastry shops, fountains, Chartres, other cathedrals, museums, and etc. He would always explain said places in tres vite francais, and I would just look at Laura, who would lean over and give me the gist of what I had missed. What I tried to tell her is that I could understand the gist, I needed the detail, but oh well.

The Louvre excursion was interesting- because it was one of the topics we had to write a paper about. And what was great about it, is that we got there, and did a little intro about the Art of the Italian Renaissance with this crazy woman. She had frumpy brown hair, wore her sweater big and hanging off her shoulder, and I swear she was a little bit crazy. The way she talked…was just so odd. Anyways, she walked us through that section in Sully, and then split. I ran right back to the Egyptian section, spending pretty much my entire time there, getting really lost when I tried to leave, I would keep just re-entering the pharaoh room, and eventually paused, thought that may be a sign of some sort, then continued on. We spent 5 hours in the Louvre and I loved that. Then the girls met back up for lunch and we all headed to the food court, I settled on Sushi, which was quite the expense, but you didn’t see the options.
This is when I started to realize that I had a little more in common with the girls than I thought. Charity and I both like Damien Rice, Laura and I both like 90s TV shows, like Saved by the Bell and Family Matters, Sameen and I like the same kind of books, so since this was towards the beginning of the trip, I had some hope going into it. (Though I always kind of preferred Laura over Charity, which worked out well since Sameen favored Charity so much). The Saint Chapelle explanation was done by the same woman, except at a café- in front of the Sorbonne, and she was using a book to explain the windows, the decorations, how it came to be built, and with this book, ended dumping her tea all over her lap. She was quite the character, reminded me a lot of that librarian from movies, who loves her work, but you wonder if she ever has a social life.

The Chartres visit was done by a man named Malcolm. Malcolm was very British, with his mannerisms, his accent, and his general attitude. But it is from Malcolm, that we learned how to read cathedrals, and even what the word itself means. We learned how to read the windows of 11-12-13th century cathedrals, how to read the walls, the statues, how to read the story the church offers, and you know, coming from Malcolm, this didn’t bore us for a second.

Versailles was done with a headset, we got whatever language we wanted- since I knew we were probably going to have to answer questions about it later, I choose English, which I have done in every place we go, mostly because I think it is better to understand and enjoy, instead of having French spewed into my hear and trying to decode it. The girls chose French, like they always did, and they ALWAYS complained about it afterward. What is that definition of insanity again?

After that, we were given the day to ourselves, and I don’t really know what happened to everyone else, but I just went and sat down next to a fountain, and ten minutes later, it kicked on, splashing me a little, so I went and laid over in another grassy area, and looked around, noticing that I was the only single person there, and decided to just put in the headphones, and drift off to sleep. I woke up soon after and opened my eyes, to this adorable little girl standing over me, staring at me. Then the apologetic father running her and grabbing her wiggling body, offering desoles, and pardons as he moved.

There is one sight in Paris that we all agreed on, la Tour Eiffel, and since I was the only one who had ever gone, I was in charge. I loved that excursion. The Eiffel Tower is blue these days and it has the stars from The European Union symbol on it, Kevin says that it is there because France is the president of the EU, but I don’t know that to be true. Anyways, last year, when I was there, and it sparkled golden, it was breathtaking. But seeing it sparkle blue was simply phenomenal. We stood in the line, which took all of 45 minutes and were pushed into the elevator onto the 2nd floor. We took pictures together, the four of us, and laughed, and talked to each other, and that is the only time I can remember truly enjoying their company. Up at the top, there were more pictures, and we headed down, and I think home.

At this point, I should probably tell you about school, seeing as how it is the reason I am here. My teacher, Ann, was one of the nicest teachers I have ever had, yet one of the strictest. She could be so nice, someone would say something, and then snap, she would be a polar opposite. Like there was this one student, Sasha, a boy from Germany who would come in late every day. Oh, maybe I should define late, Ann would come in at 9:15 every day for our 9 o’clock class, Sasha would come in at 9:20, and she would yell and yell at him. I came into this class like 6 weeks into its season, and was afraid everyone would already be friends, and that I was going to be really left out. But probably the epitome of this is that one time, the last day actually, Sasha came in at 1:07, class ends at 1, yeah….But as it turns out, the school cycles students out and in for however long they want to stay. But the class is from 9-1, and there’s a coffee break at 11, which is important to include because that is where I met the friends.

On the first day, I walked in and there was only one student there (it was 9:02) he just smiled at me and said “Quel pays avez-vous?” I looked at him strangely, since he had just asked me what country I have and he pointed to the map and I responded, “Je suis americaine.” And then he said he was too, and asked what state I was from, and Zach, as his name was later learned responded that he was from California. And that was about it, for the whole two weeks with Zach.

Soon after the silence had fallen over the remnants of my convo with Zach, a woman walked in, with gray hair, a red scarf, and mostly gray clothes and says “Bonjour.” And I reply accordingly, and then she goes “English?” and smiles encouragingly. And this is how I met Gill. She invited me to coffee time with her, and that is how I met Juno and Ida, but for that first day, talked mostly to Gill. Throughout the week, I fell into place next to Gill, and one day she did something amazing- she offered me her lilo, and a pillow. I graciously declined, mostly because I had no idea what a lilo was and why I would want one. And then Patrick, from Chicago, goes “Are you crazy? You would actually get some sleep at night….it’s an inflatable mattress.” So Gill gives me directions, and I take the metro to her house and end up staying there, just talking for three hours, until she has to go somewhere. But invites me to come to dinner later that week with her and her husband and Juno. Gill is this 50 something? Year old woman who has three children and they are all older than me. Her and her husband George, (yes, that’s right, George and Gill) just up and moved to Paris because they want to start a church there. Anyways, so I come to dinner later that week with Juno, and have this feast, (keep in mind I have been living off Panini sandwiches) of roasted chicken and potatoes, zucchini, carrots, three different kinds of wine, and then Apple Crumble. Followed by more of Gill’s coffee (I drank a cup every day during break, I don’t even like coffee, but I drank it), and macaroons. That night, we sat around talking as well, Gill told me on they had once held a mock Thanksgiving dinner for one of their American students at their church in England and had imitated the American accent the whole time, I was curious to know exactly what that sounded like, so she showed me, as did George, and Juno, and I laughed. It was pretty accurate….anyways, the blue like, aka RER B, the line that made it so easy for me to get to her house the first time was broken down, so I had to walk there, and then take alternate trains home.

This is a good time to tell you about the Metro, I suppose. Last year, where Erica and I were here, I got the metro system down. London’s tube worked like this, Paris was like this, Rome’s was like this, Barcelona’s was crazy, then there was the San Fran metro, and the Chicago, so while I may not be an expert, I have some experience, and after the girls got lost a couple times from taking the wrong train here, and having to walk for two hours to get back, Kevin told them to just follow me because it would be easier for everyone.

I don’t really have any intention of trying to remember the other excursions except this one: Vaux le Vicomte, we went a couple days before we went to Versailles. This place was gorgeous, and we went at sunset, but were mostly going just for the candlelit special. They literally cover the entire place in candles, the garden, the house, and it is absolutely phenomenal. Oh, and then there was this taxi driver- we had to take two taxies because 6 people don’t fit in one, and Laura and Sameen and I got in the first and Kevin told him where to take us. And he did take us there, and then pulled into a parking lot, and we got out and closed our doors, and then he got out, re-opened our doors, adjusted our seatbelts, got back in the car, slammed his door and drove a few feet away and parked, sitting there drinking his Evian water and staring at us. We just stood there, and waited for the other group. It was pretty hilarious.

The view from the top of the hostel will always be something to write home about- it was great. The Eiffel Tower was right there, and I know the pictures make it seem kind of far, but it wasn’t at all, and I hate that there is no way to really show you that. We spent a couple nights just sitting up there looking, watching, and waiting for it to sparkle.

We did end up going back to Saint Chapelle at night, for a concert- Mozart mostly, these violins, a cello, and there were only like 30 people in there, and the glow of the candles on the windows, and the soothing music made the atmosphere perfect.

Laura and I did go out one time together to attempt to do the Ile de la Cite part of the project, but ended up just shopping instead. We bought some earrings, and tarts on the island, and eyed this pair of boots I fell in love with- but they didn’t have my size (that in itself, is a reoccurring phase here).

On our last day in Paris, Charity, Laura and I all washed our clothes (well some of them) in the sink, and then hauled them to the laundry mat, their clothes finished before mine, mostly because they didn’t do any jeans and I told Laura that they could go if they didn’t want to wait- and she said no, they would wait. And said something to Charity, then two seconds later said “You know, if you are not going to be lonely, I think we will go.” And I look at the meter that says minutes left and grunt, replying “Well I am going to be lonely whether or not you stay, so it doesn’t really matter.” –This was promptly met with Charity’s “God Stacey, throw yourself in front of a bus.” And that was the last of my attempts at friendship with her.

Paris is by far, a city for lovers, couples surround you, everywhere you do, and it is unavoidable, you are sucked into romantic atmosphere, and duos here and there, cluttering the area around you, holding hands, and yeah….Paris is beautiful, but a word of advice from someone who obviously did not learn the first time- bring a lover. Or be depressed. Period.

So I was not too heartbroken about leaving Paris, I had my last meal at Gill’s house, and then headed home to pack, sleeping again on that flat mattress, and back in the cold atmosphere I started in. Last minute packing in the morning was crazy- I had to throw away quite a bit of stuff, my work book from class, some of my travel shampoos, a magazine, a book, stuff I thought I would need, just to make others fit, and I still had to strap my towel to the outside of my bag. But was still the first one done, go figure.

So I got in the elevator, and returned my key. Followed by Sameen, who’s bag weighed more than ever, and then Charity, and then Laura- who had put her other bag in the big one, and I would bet that thing was over 70 pounds. Laura and Sameen opted out of the metro extravaganza and took a taxi to the train station. Charity and I decided to go for it—

---it wasn’t THAT bad, lots of stairs, and people movers, and people, and doors, and trains, but we got there in one piece, then got on the train for Tours, starting Round Two of the adventure. On the ride, we tried to get Kevin to give us some words of encouragement about our families, but he was just being Kevin, awkward as usual. At this point, I seriously gave some thought to this whole thing-
--I still am not a big fan of staying here for more than a semester, I’m not really sure how to tell the host family that, I just know that it will be awkward, come to think of it; I don’t know how to tell the host family anything. I don’t really know what I was thinking, this is so overwhelming. But then I look at the other girls, and notice the same expression on their faces, and think that maybe I was wrong about them- maybe once we don’t see each other ALL the time, the times we do see each other will be more enjoyable.

Anyways, so the train gets to Tours, and we all pile out with our stuff and at the end of the platform, there are three women and one man, and I think hmm, I wonder who has him. And the girls all flock with the girls, and I look at Patrik, and he says “Stacey?” And I nod, and then he grabs my wheelie and that is it. I just walk away from the other girls who are all still there clustered and walk off with Patrik. He is leading and making a lot of turns very quickly-and it’s kind of hard to follow him, but I try. And then we stop at a car, he throws my bag into the back, and helps me get the other one in. His phone rings, I stand by my door for a minute, and he waves and points, so I get in. And wait. For like 20 minutes.

So he gets in the car and says something along the lines of “for my job, I sell buildings, stores, houses, apartment, etc.” And I said “Aimez-vous ca?” And he kind of shrugged, then proceeding to ask me when my birthday was, then point out random streets, buildings, where my school is. And then we’re here.

We go inside, and my first reaction is “wow this is pretty” which then turns into “Oh, votre maison est jolie” and we carry my stuff upstairs, and then go back down for the tour, and he asks what I would like to do- “regarde la tele?” and I said I’d like to unpack. Patrik tells me that this is my home too and I welcome to anything in it (which only goes so far in French culture) and that I am going to be alone for a couple hours because he has to go to work, and Marie is out shopping- this sounds okay to me. So I get situated in my room, find a book from England and go downstairs and start to read. Patrik comes down, and says something that I don’t understand—then leaves, coming back with a Tintin book- Tintin is a comic series that I don’t particularly care for, having read 3 books of his now- and says I should try to read French.

After Patrik leaves, I do try to read French, and then watch French on the TV, but instead pass out on the most uncomfortable couch of all time. I wake up to the sound of the door opening and there’s Marie. While Patrik is very tall, and kind of big around the middle, Marie is very tiny and skinny, and nothing like I expected—she talks about a mile a minute, and I can’t understand a word of it. So I smile and nod, and move on to reading more. When Patrik gets home, they decide to go to a market, inviting me to go along—why not?

*Sidenote, French markets are a LOT different than ours. I hear the word market, and I think vegetables, here that means everything—meat, fish, bread, pastries, veggies, fruits, etc. and in this case, they meant like a giant indoor market. Everything is broken up into sections- and everything is VERY fresh, like I think new kills. Like you walk by a case of meat slabs, then whole fish, then dead rabbits, then pig heads—and we wonder why I don’t eat these things! Also amusing, they have an entire store for just frozen goods, like you walk in, and it’s all freezers….

So Patrik will try to put things into English for me as much as he can, which isn’t all that often, but he will look up a word to help me out, Marie just spews a little slower. Though now, it has kind of flipped, she will use English a little more than he will, but he stills understands my butchered French better than she does. And the only time I am just with Marie, is when we eat breakfast together—which is cereal. Otherwise, for dinner every night, there is a soup of some kind, then a salad, then the meal (let’s see, there was a quiche one night, lobster, crepes, cod, chicken and duck so far) and then a dessert, then cheese, then a fruit. It’s basically more food in one meal than I eat all day at home. This weekend I have had all three meals each day at home, and I feel so sick because of all the food. I assumed lunch wasn’t as big of a deal, my mistake.

So after school, I have learned they are both out, and I come home to an empty house—this is my favorite part of the day, mostly because I can go to my room, listen to music, read (in English!), nap, do homework or whatever. I thrive on the personal time. Then there’s pre-dinner TV, which is filled with questions. Then there is dinner at 8, with lots of intercultural questions- last night’s was “Why do Americans think we hate them?” That was a good one…

….though my favorite was the time when Patrik and I were alone because Marie was in Bordeaux visiting her dad, and he asked me what my dad does for a living. And honestly, I don’t know how to answer that in English. I haven’t had a conversation more than 10 minutes long with him in like the past 4 months. I told him that my dad moved, and he was living in Texas, and I wasn’t sure. And Patrik says “Texas?” and I say yes, and he goes, “for us, Texas is….” *then proceeds to lean back from the table, form his hands like guns, and go “BAM BAM BAM BAM” while thrashing* I laughed, and said “Patrik, Texas est BAM BAM BAM BAM” and we laughed until Marie got home.

….my least favorite was when Marie and Patrik told me that I shouldn’t be reading books in English- just French. If I read books in English, I am resting in my native language, and not trying. Also, I should speak more. This is the day that I had just told the other girls about how much I speak here, as it turns out, none of them do. They all just go to their rooms….I don’t get how that’s fair at all. So that night, I made an extra effort, and told Patrik about where I live, showed him on the map, showed him where Dan, Christy and Erica live. That was also the night I told them about Ireland, and Dan, and told them that Dan was Irish, and Marie said “Really?” and I showed her the picture, and she went “Wow! He is Irish” and I smiled. I told them about Lake Erie, the Great Lakes, who I preferred in the election (which was a risky call, but he asked, and I just went with gut instinct) and about possibly going home in December.

That was a delicate transition, but Patrik asked if I was going to Burkina in the Spring because most of their students do, and I said maybe, (keep in mind, when I say he said/she said/I said in these contexts that I am translating, so it’s not quite the same) but I may be going home because of some school issues with my diploma. As it turns out, I may only be getting 12 credits for this semester, which makes it not even worth it.

Anyways, so I really thought Marie didn’t like me at all, she was always very removed, but yesterday, she helped me do laundry, and lately has been helping me come up with sentences, but still being very strict saying that I need to talk more, and I smile and think about how much I talk at home and what a contrast it is, and if she only knew! But today, we went to the market (a different outdoor one) to get strawberries to make jam (well Patrik went to get that), Marie and I looked at shoes and clothes, and jewelry, and we ended up looking at these gorgeous earrings, and she asked me if I wanted a pair, I said yes (mostly because I had some money in my pocket) and I picked out these red dangly ones, and then she told the lady, and pulled out her wallet, and I said, no, I brought money, and she insisted, and said it was a small present. How sweet of her! I mean they were only three euro, but still….

…yesterday, we had our second Tours excursion with Kevin to two gardens. Of course when we got there, we had our little intro and then separated. I ended up running into Kevin, and spent like an hour just talking to him about Dennis (his boyfriend), food, what he misses from the states, etc. It was surprisingly chill. Though as soon as the others got back, he was back to being awkward…great, well, that is what headphones or casques are for.

As for school, I haven’t found any potential friends- most of my class is of Asian descent, and I can’t understand their Chinese, Korean, Japanese, French or English, so I am mostly out of luck. My teacher here, unlike Ann, does not speak one word of English, so that’s fun. I tested two levels below the other girls, which actually makes perfect sense because back home, they were in 400 level classes, while I was only in 200, and they are all older than me. We do have a new addition, a girl named Whitney- also engaged, a senior, French, who has limited social abilities, but talks to Laura. And Charity and Sameen are inseparable these days. So 5-2(Charity and Sameen) =3-2 (Laura and Whitney) = 1 (Me!) Laura lives right around the corner from me- maybe I can steal her.

So general feelings about the trip- I am renting a cell phone tomorrow, so that will be a fun development, posting some new pictures online, but I am still feeling pretty regretful about the whole thing, you can’t tell from the pictures, right? My newest goal is to soak in as much as I can, try to talk about what I can, try to not feel so pressured (I am doing okay with this, I am just not going to spend so much time here, which is okay, I went to see a movie called “Go Fast” by myself today, it wasn’t too bad, other than the being surrounded by couples thing), but I joined a CineClub at school, I am thinking about getting a tutor, I am going to spend time at the library, read English books for the sanity, spend more time at the park, keep the journal updated, and just try to do my best, if only for the grade.

Whether or not I want to be here, I’m here. So, if I have to be stuck somewhere, it may as well be somewhere I thought I always wanted.

I promise to keep up with updates….

….oh, so apparently I am going to Normandy for my birthday (it’s a pre-planned excursion), which sounds glamorous, but apparently will be spending the whole day in cemeteries, go me.



Everyone parked, now mind you, if you don't know much about my family, know this much- the typical routine is the drop and scoot (we drop people off at the airport, hand them their luggage and promptly say goodbye before pulling away and leaving them in the dust...)