Vacances: fevrier

Ah. Vacation at last. Although I've only been student teaching for...3 weeks? I am welcoming this vacation. My poor feet are also loving this time spent in sneakers. And I'm sure my car doesn't mind not starting at 6:45 every weekday.
So far I've managed to sleep in a little, play a lot of computer games, pig out a little bit, read a lot, work a little, and go to my little cousin's birthday party. And I had a nice little Valentine's Day with my boyfriend, who made us baked ziti and bought me a book I've wanted for a while but is no longer in print (and tons of chocolate). For the both of us I bought a little rose plant, which I have not yet killed and I'm hoping to keep alive for a while. I'm definitely not known for my green thumb, and have killed quite a few plants in the past. But I've wanted one of these for a while. I've remembered to water it regularly and I move it around my place to give it as much light as possible.
I've also listened to Edith Piaf a lot (there's a reason she was wicked famous in both France and the US). If you don't know who she is, watch the movie "Le Vie en Rose". It's in French, but you can subtitle it. The funniest part in it, when she gets to the states and she's talking with a Frenchman and an American. They all speak French, but the american accent of that guy is hilarious.

Unfortunately, my hives have not gone on vacation. As I'm writing this I have one slowly growing over my left eyebrow. It hasn't traveled down under my eye yet, which is the worst because my eye swells and closes up a bit and I look like Quasimodo. So my plans for later tonight are a couple of benadryls and a glass of champagne so both myself and my hives are knocked, at least for the night.

Back to the student teaching. I am actually starting to like the high school. I'm getting to know the kids better and for the most part they're being good little children for me. I only have three weeks left there and I am really excited to go back to the middle school, and I know the transition to me teaching at the middle school will go smoother than it did at the high school. Although, my second week I became a full-teacher. That Monday my cooperating teacher called in sick, she had pulled out her back. So I made it through one day. Then Tuesday she called to say she wouldn't be in until the next Tuesday. I was thrown off guard a little and had to totally wing it for two of the classes. I think they noticed that but they went along with whatever I did. That next Tuesday was tough though. I needed my teacher back to tell me the specifics of the things I was trying to teach (most importantly details on projects three of the classes were working on). But giving up three of the classes was not easy. Then on Wednesday during French 1, which I was supposed to have already taken over and I had until then, she just took over and taught the class. Needless to say I was pissed. On Friday she started to do it again and was about to go over an activity that I had assigned when I actually stood up and said, It's ok. I've got this one. And I've warned her that when we get back the two French 2 classes need to be mine, and the week after that the French 4 (and final) class will be mine as well. Hopefully it'll go better.
I had my university supervisor do a formal observation while she was out. Monday or Tuesday when we get back my coop teacher needs to do her first. Then the week after will be my other supervisor observation. And within my last two weeks my final coop teacher observation and her final evaluation. Fun. So at some point this week I need to figure out which classes I want observed and which standards I want them to look for (each observation has to cover three of the six). Oh and I have to actually write the lesson plans for the these classes. Haha. I'll think about that later.

Now it's time for some more leftovers and an episode of House (which I am quickly falling in love with, thank you Netflix).

Bon soir monde,
a plus tard.

Candy and an Essay

Although I have thought many a time of creating a new post over the last year, I haven't. Until now. Why now? I'm on winter vacation. And I have to write a big-ass essay. Le français est-il seulement la langue des français? Is French the language of only the French? 1200 - 2400 words. I have 425. Why do I have to write about French? Because, silly me, after 16 years of school I'm not quite ready to be done, so I'm going on for a Master's. That looks a little intimidating written out. But my preferred college requires a damn essay with the application and 2-hour online placement test. I really don't see the need for a sizable essay as well as a placement test, but they decide who goes, so I do what I'm told.
Unfortunately I'm a horrible procrastinator and decided to write a blog when I should in fact be trying to punch out another 10 or so words tonight. I'll blame work. I've somewhat recently come to almost hate my job, and I get excited just knowing that someday this year I'll hopefully be quitting. I come home nearly every day tired and road-raging and angry. I hate customers, I hate driving there and back, the job has nothing to do with what I'm trying to do with my life, and some of the higher ups piss me off a lot. But anyways...
I'm getting excited, nervous and dreadful as the days pass. I'm student teaching this semester, and my practicum time spent in the high school where I'll be was not the best of times for me. My cooperating teacher is a native speaker, which kind of scares the hell out of me and makes me all nervous. Plus most of the kids are my height or taller, and they're high schoolers. I hated highschoolers when I was in high school, but at least I was there with everything. Now I feel like I'm far enough away to not get the trends and shit, but too close to observe them objectively. Maybe it's just the town I'm in, but what the hell are they thinking with their clothes and hair. I can't begin to explain. But again, I've never really been up on fashion and have always preferred what I think looks nice on me and what I'm comfortable in. There are a few styles out there that I could totally rock...but it's not me, so I don't even try. Another thing, the world language teachers live on a teacher's salary (not that great but amazing compared to a part-time job), and so they all shop at some semi-expensive store. So I just went out and blew over $100 because I've never seen them wear the same thing more than twice, and I could get 3 -4 weeks out of my wardrobe. And while at JCPenney's, I was jumping up and down on the inside to find some nice sweaters for $10 and khaki's for $20. Who the hell can afford $60 shirts? Not me.
So in other words, I feel a little intimidated at this high school, so I'm coming to dread going back a little bit and having to take over. Or trying to, seeing as last semester I never really got the opportunity to. Luckily I'm starting during mid-terms so I'll be there when they start new material, which I'm looking at as a good thing. And at some point I can tell my cooperating teacher to take a hike for a period or three.
Totally random subject change...The church near my house is playing 'O Holy Night' on it's bells. I'm assuming they're electronic. It's nice that they play music though, I like hearing Christmas-time songs once a night after Christmas. As long as it's winter I'm up for decorations and trees and wreaths. It makes freezing your ass off a little less...bitter and highly fucking annoying. I hate winter, by they way.
It's now after 9 and I really should attempt something for my essay. I'm really not sure if I'll make the 1200 words, so I may have to go back and split up sentences and add some nice fluff, which is much easier to do in one's native language, but I'm not bad at it in French. I guess that's why I'm going for a Master's though.

Fourth (and final) Leg: Italia (I)

Walking into the terminal we were smiling, and if we had learned how to say it before-hand, we would’ve looked at each other and laughed, ‘io non parlo italiano.’ Evidently it’s ridiculously easy to get into Italy from EU members: they merely have to flash their passport, and not even the picture page, to the customs officer and they get waved through. Although the non-EU line was much shorter it took a little longer because they actually look at our passports and stamp them. When we got our bags I noticed that mine was open at the top, it was probably because it was too full. I later found out that the only things missing were the towel I stole from Paris, and a long-sleeved shirt I had bought in Orléans… not a big loss though.

We were supposed to be meeting Dee’s friend Alex (Alessandro) at the airport. As we were leaving the arrival area and baggage claim to the sea of faces that always awaits, I was looked every where for a girl who’s face I didn’t know when suddenly I heard, ‘Dany!’ I turned and saw Dee hugging a gorgeous Italian girl… so I supposed that was Alex. I supposed right. She drove us to her place, which was a (I think) rather chic apartment with her mom and older sister. When she first picked us up she didn’t remember a lot of English, but by the time we left she was translating for her friends. Her mom doesn’t speak any English, but damn can she make pizza. She made us two pizzas that night. The first was all right: thick-crust with no cheese or regular pizza sauce. I don’t really remember the topping, but it was a little burned. The second however… Again, thick crust, no cheese or sauce, but smothered in peppers that tasted like they had been slow-roasted for hours in deliciousness.

After dinner we got to call our families to let them know we had made it ok. Then Alex made some calls and asked if we wanted to go meet some of her friends. We had about an hour and a half until they picked us up, so we put in a little internet time, then set to work learning some basic Italian: io ho fame/sierto, io sonno stanca, io studio francese e educazzione, and io non parlo italiano. Translations: I am hungry/ thirsty, I am tired, I study French and education, and I don’t speak Italian. We brought along our little paper of phrases and our French-Italien dictionary when we went out.

I guess the Italien idea of hanging out is crazily-driving to a parking lot and meeting your friends there. We met quite a few people that first night, but I really only remember three of them: Frenchie (Francesco), Giorgio, and Genie (Genero). However many of them there was, we laughed a lot at not being able to understand each other. Most of them had at least rudimentary English skills, but Frenchie and Genie could speak pretty well so they and Alex helped translate. The funniest part had to be when one of them tried to say an English phrase or expression. For example, we said our feet were frozen, like ice cream. Frenchie took that and said ‘your feet are like ice cream?’ Then Genie went way off and came in with, ‘ cheese ice cream?’ Frenchie took this back into ‘you have cheese ice cream feet?’ We also learned a few slang and dialect terms that I won’t repeat here.

After quite some time in this parking lot, everyone agreed that we were cheese ice-cream feet so we left. But we weren’t going right home. They wanted to give us a little taste of Napoli first, so we were driven around for a while (I swear it takes 20 minutes to get any where no matter how fast they drive). We stopped at a little patisserie/ ice cream shop. They bought us croissants, but they weren’t just plain ones. They were warmed up and inside they spread both regular nutella and white nutella. Strange. Finally they brought us home sometime in the morning and we slept our first night in Italia.

Dublin (IV)

Unfortunately we couldn’t laze around and be hung-over in our beds all day because it was our last day in that hostel. We were supposed to be leaving Dublin that day, but for some reason I had accidentally booked our flight a day later. So after a hot shower, we headed over to the hostel we had booked at 12€ each for our extra night. We took another little nap there, not really caring how actually… sketchy it was. After the nap we had to get out, plus, we were hungry. A little stroll through what appeared to be a business section because everything was closed, and we found ourselves staring at the menus outside of the ‘Mona Lisa’s’. Now those Irish people know how to lake garlic ciabatta bread. I could’ve eaten three of them and had that as my meal. But I also had lasagne, and even better it was a student special. Right next to the restaurant was a little cinema… pourquoi pas? Inside there was as sign that read, “In the interest of hygiene please refrain from placing tickets in your mouth”. I took of a picture of it, and it’s being loaded onto photobucket as I type this up. We ended up seeing Eastern Promise, which was really good, with Viggo Mortensen and Naomi Watts. At one point Dee gasped really loudly, and the entire audience (maybe 20 people), myself include, were laughing at her.

Still not wanted to go back to the hostel, we found a pub close to it instead. While there I wrote a little something to remind myself of it when I finally got to writing about:

So, I am writing this in a little pub in Dublin near our hostel. I’m sitting at a bar and to my right in the next room is a duo, playing fiddle and guitar. They’re playing some really Irish sounding stuff, and this atmosphere and feeling; this is why I wanted to come to Dublin.

It was a nice experience. Then we walked to the hostel. There was a sketchy-looking guy on the corner of the street, and after we walked by, he walked after us until he was literally right behind Dee’s left shoulder. We stopped walking. He stops, then sees us giving him looks and says, “oh sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you” and after a few moments staggers off in the same direction. We kept a safe distance behind him, but then he went into our hostel. Shit. After a few moments he doesn’t come out, so we just go in, and the guy at the desk said, yes, he is staying there. Then we spent about half an hour in the company of a schizophrenic and thee semi-sketchy guys, but the details are too long for me to want to write them out.

A little while after getting to bed, the girl in the one under one came in. Then she changed. To put I nicely, Dee put lotion on her hands and slept with them over her face, while I slept with a bit of lavender I had plucked earlier on my pillow. If you’ve ever seen the move “The labyrinth”, it smelled like she had been dipped in the Bog of Eternal Stench. No joke. Aside from that the night was well slept. However at the crack of 8am the next morning: hammering, stone cutting and soldering… right outside our window. By 8h20 we had had enough, and we were walking out the door at 8h30. We stopped at a little place for breakfast, and then just hopped on a bus to the airport. Everything went smoothly there, and I took some cool pictures once we got over England.

Once in England we decided to get some pizza before our next flight. And my god they had: barbeque chicken pizza. They were 8£ each, something I would shoot my own foot over in the states, but really, what choice did we have? Then we thought we were about to miss our flight. When they brought out the pizza, we asked for the check. When they brought the check we gave them the money and asked for boxes. We boxed the ½ pizzas that were left and booked it through Gatwick. Supposedly it takes fifteen minutes to get from where we were to our boarding gate, but we made it in five. We still had to wait about 20 minutes though because boarding was late. We took that time to finish our pizzas and fan ourselves with the boxes. Guess who looked like the biggest assholes there? We did! As we were boarding the guy that checked Dee in asked if she had finished the whole pizza. Hell yeah!

With a final sigh and so long we buckled our belts for take-off.

Dublin (III)

Monday morning we decided enough was enough with the souvenirs shoved in our locker. We went to the post office, bought two boxes and brought them back to the hostel to be stuffed. I managed to pack up everything I wanted to and my box was popping at the seams. But back at the post, we taped up every edge and wrote the address three times, and wrote 'fragile' and/or 'handle with care' on every side. The damages to ship overseas? My box weighed 3.1 kg (6.8 lbs) and cost 57€ ($85). Dee's however, weighed about 8kg (17.6 lbs) and cost about two weeks worth of food at 123€ ($184). Absolutely ridiculous. And we were incredulous, then pissed. But really we had no choice because we couldn't fit any of the stuff we bought in Ireland in our bags.

Following this financial catastrophe we had a poor-man's lunch at Burger King, but it was good (note: BK no longer exists in France). Then to make ourselves feel better, we went to a semi-expensive clothes store and tried some stuff one then left without buy anything.

The first actual thing we did that day was head to the southwest of Dublin until we saw the grandiosity of St. Patrick's Cathedral. It's famous because it's the biggest one in Dublin, or Ireland? I don't remember. But Jonathon Swift was also the dean for some time, and while I don't know most of his work, I really like his essay on Irish babies and Gulliver's Travels. Of course it was pretty inside, and smelled amazing because they were burning large quantities of incense. There were also some of the oldest flags I've ever seen hanging up there. They had some stones which covered the well that St. Patrick used to baptise his converts, and Jonathon Swift's... well a place for him if not his actual remains, but I think they were under there. They had a nice little gift shop too, and we each bought ourselves a really nice copy of Gulliver’s Travels. We also found out what St. Patrick is the saint of… Ireland. Even though neither of us pray, we took a nice little repose in the chairs and admired the alter before heading off to our next stop.

Dublin Castle. We did things a little backwards and started with the gift shop. I found a shot-glass with the coat of arms for Barrett, but not Kilpatrick… oh well. We completely missed the entrance in our search, but found the gardens instead. We later found out that they were the site of the original ‘black water’, which in Gaelic is Dubh-linh… look familiar?

We did find the entrance, but not before Dee decided to be weird and take pictures of me while she was laying on the ground. One of which looks very Mary Tyler Moore-ish if you ask me. Dublin Castle was also only by guided tour, but it wasn’t that boring and we learned quite a bit… like how the English monarchy hasn’t visited Ireland since the 1800’s, and something about a sir Earl de Grey doing something there… but now he’s just famous for his tea. They also have some of the original castle from Viking times. One of the four towers still stands, but the tour guide brings you underneath one of the wings to see part of another tower and where it meets the wall that surrounded the city. I love old shit like that.

We left around 4pm, and decided to head to the hostel for some dinner. While cooking and eating we started talking to two guys, one from Texas and the other Australia. We all decided to see that night’s movie (the hostel had movie night every night at 8pm), and then we invited them to a game of Kings. For this occasion I thought we should Irish, so we bought some ginger ale and 70cl of Jameson. (Later note: it was 25.99€ in Ireland and only 17€ in France.) Dee and I finished the bottle, and I will admit what happened next is not one of my proudest moments. But after the game ended, I left to go to the bathroom…and woke up an unknown amount of time later still in the bathroom. I figured it was early in the morning and that Dee was already in bed, with our room key since I didn’t have it. So I made my way to the front desk to ask for another, which cost me 1€. But when I got in the room, Dee wasn’t there. Sometime later on in the morning she came in, but without our original room key. It seemed we were missing a few other things as well: our locker key, my glasses, and our sweatshirts. As it turns out, she never had the room key, so when I disappeared she couldn’t get in our room either. But there was an empty bed in the room that the two guys were in, so she slept there. Unfortunately when she left in the morning she didn’t take note of the room number.

For the next half and hour to 45 minutes we searched for the right room. This involved knocking on four doors, getting the key to two others, and eventually finding the right one. Our sweatshirts were there, but not the glasses or the locker key. I finally went to the front desk to admit we lost it and to inquire about my glasses. Supposedly no one had turned in either one, but the locker key they gave le was the same one I had had before. I asked three times about my glasses with no luck. After a nap and some brunch, I decided to ask again. When they said no again, I asked if they could send them to me if they were found. So I’m writing down my address, and the girl asks me to describe them… oOh! … goes in the back… “are these them?” No shit Sherlock… why didn’t you look back there any of the other times I asked? But at least I got them back.

Dublin (II)

Sunday morning w got up early (for us), had breakfast and planned our day. Then we headed out into the gray day. After a bit of a walk (but without getting lost) we arrived at our first destination: the Old Jameson Distillery. In case you're wondering, it's the original place they made Jameson whiskey, actually until somewhat recently. They take you through on a guided tour that tells all about the history and how it's made. Then at the end you get a glass of Jameson either straight or with something (I chose ginger ale = not bad). But not everyone got a glass because they chose six people to do a whiskey tasting, and Dee volunteered. So these six people sat down at a table with a placemat that had spots for six shot glasses. On the bottom three were Irish whiskeys: Paddy's, Jameson and Power's Gold. They had to try all three and then put their favorite one in the center top spot. The other two spots were for the best-selling whiskeys in the world from Scotland and the States. I don't remember the Scottish one, but can you guess the American? Jack Daniel's. Then they had to try those two and compare it with their favorite Irish one. After they chose our tour guide told us he would be right back, and he wanted all of their shots gone by the time he did. He came back with certificates for all of the tasters saying that they are official whiskey tasters, and a small glass of straight Jameson. Needless to say Dee was a little more than tipsy by the time she finished. We were going to buy some souvenir, but it was only 11h45, and you can't buy alcohol before 1230 on Sunday in Dublin. So we wasted some time and tried to sober up a little in the café.

Our next stop of the day was the Guinness Storehouse. It took forever to get there, and we ended up walking around an entire block, which we believe contains the actual factory. While going back up one street, our eyes caught a sign for the storehouse, and five more minutes of following huge signs (which should've been at the tram stop), we made it into the storehouse. It was a self-guided tour, and there were seven floors. Not that bad for a museum about beer. At one point they give you a little cup to taste it, and on the 7th floor you get a free pint. The 7th floor is the 'gravity bar'. It's just a circular room with a bar in the middle. All of the walls are windows, which means you get a 360° view of Dublin. While the city itself holds no beauty from above, it's nice to see Dublin is hugged by green hills on side. And I'll admit in the confines of this blog of a crime I committed: theft. On the bottom floor there's a big tub with barely grains, the same kind that's used to make the actual Guinness! Well, I grabbed a handful and put it in my bag... later I sent it to the states. Hopefully customs doesn't think I'm trying to grow a terrorist plant or something. (Later note: they didn't, my package made it home) Dee and I could only finish half of our pints... too much bitter frothiness for me... aside from the fact that I really don't like beer.

All that morning alcohol made us quite hungry so we walked towards the zoo and found a little place to eat. This is where we committed our second crime of the day. First there's something you all should understand: European service is not like American where the people rely on tips. All of the little things we do in restaurants to get the servers attention, or let them know you're done, don't work. At this place we tried several: staring the waitresses down, pushing our plates away from us, and then stacking them and putting them on the edge of the table... and we got no service. Dee hadn't even eaten hers because it was gross...so we decided to go back downstairs to see if we should pay there. There was no one there, so Dee walked right out and I was forced to follow. So that saved us 11€. But karma did bi us in the ass and by the time we got to the zoo (around 4pm) it was just closing. Instead of attempting to do anything else we took a double-decker bus back to the city center and made the not really short haul back to our hostel to nap.

That night we went in search of a true Irish pub experience. This of course included wandering around a lot and wondering where exactly we were and in which direction we were headed. Guess what we found... Captain America's restaurant, as well as three BK's and McD's within ten minutes of each other, and a TGI Fridays. Feels like home. After changing directions in the same square about four times we finally agreed on a street to take, just to whip out our map and admit we were tourists. After quelques minutes, someone came over to ask if we were lost. Nope, just looking for a good pub. He recommended heading over to Temple Bar, which is actually a quartier, but there is an actual bar with that name inside. To this suggestion Dee replied, ' oh no., that's where you send all the tourists.' So he told us about the bar that his brother owns, and at which there would be live music that night. Well then, off we go! But wait! On our way, (in fact about three buildings down) we had to stop, for we had come across a pub named "The Hairy Lemon". Cozy little place with some great American tunes on the radio. We only stayed for a one expensive pint of Stella before starting our search again. Amazingly we found the place without getting lost. Well, the one time we took out the map we looked across the street and there it was. There was a bouncer, so we got carded, but he was funny. After discovering our true nationality he raised his hand and said to me, 'high five!' As I went in for it he pulled his back and said, ' oh, what am I American?' Dee fell for the same thing on the way out.

Inside, the music hadn't start yet, so with a Jameson and ginger and a beer at our table, we commenced a game of connect four. But first we had to play 'rock, paper, scissors' to see who would go first. We were going for best two out of three, but the bitch of it was, we pulled the same thing five times in a row. However I kicked her ass about 3/4 of the time. We stayed for two drinks each and the first musician. As we were leaving the bouncer informed us that the next guy was really good and we should stay for at least one song. With a rum and coke to share, we listened to four or five because he was actually pretty good.

And so ends the Sabbath in Dublin.

Vacance: Third Leg: Dublin (I)

When we first got off the plane it was nice and completely cloudy, but warmer than Germany. Everything was going great, until we got off the bus and onto the actual streets of Dublin. It took us around an hour (carrying our now heavy bags full of souvenirs) to find our hostel. First stop: internet café followed by food at Madigan's (which you can find by walking about ten minutes in any direction). Since most places in Dublin close around 5pm, we decided the perfect thing to do would be to go shopping! But it was mostly for other people. After dropping some €'s at Carroll's and then bringing it all back to the hostel, we went in search of the one thing that was still open: Dracula's House/ haunted house. Just getting there was an adventure in itself. It took about 20minutes walking through drizzle to find Connelly Station. Then we got on the wrong DART (Dublin Area Rapid Transit), which would be better named Sloth. Eventually we did get there though. The first part you just walk through this semi-dark hallway with a lot of info one Bram Stoker and where Dracula came from, as well as posters from a lot of the movies based on the book. Then you go into the 'haunted house' part of it, which was amusing, but not really scary.

When we came out, the guy that works there started talking to us, which was just as fun because he's a comedian. After a little while he asked us if we wanted to have some fun... Yes? He took us back into the haunted house to this little tiny room in the middle. Inside he showed us how you could scare people in four different place just from there. So we did a rehearsal then came out to await our victims. About ten minutes later two guys that worked somewhere else in the building went in for the first time. We gave them about five minutes, and then ran in to take our places. But while running down the first hallway part, Dee did a wondrous face plant. Her initial speed allowed her to slide a few feet face down, with her arms at her sides. With the sliding and the way she was flapping her arms, my mind was inspired to superimpose the image of a seal over her and I almost peed myself laughing so hard. Thankfully she wasn't actually hurt, and we did scare the crap out of those two guys. After that we were talking to the guy a little more, and he told us a few good places to go in Dublin.

While we ere waiting for the DART (we had about fifteen minutes), these two kids (I'm guessing about 12) starting hanging around the stop. About five minutes after we first saw them, we heard yelling coming from the street below and next to the platform. We ran over to the fence and saw two cops booking it. A few moments later one came running back chasing one of the kids and yelling, "You bugger! Stop! Get back here!" Then the kid starts practically bawling and blubbering, "I didn't mean to! I won't do it again! I'm sorry; I don't know why I did it! I'm sorry, please don't tell my parents!" This was after the cop had caught up to him and shook the shit out of him. A few moments after that the second cop comes back with the other kid, pushing him along while gripping the back of his shirt. We saw them with some kind of can, so we think they were graffiti-ing. The whole scene was pretty hilarious and we were happy to have the free entertainment while we waited.

Once back in the city center we realized we were hungry, so we stopped at an Indian restaurant and ate...a lot. We ate so much in fact that we ditched our plans to go to a club and just walked around for a while before heading back to the hostel. When we got up to our room the guy in the bed under mine was already there...asleep. As we were getting into bed he said to us, "You two are crazy!" Dee asked why, and he repeated, "You two are just crazy!" I motioned to Dee to ignore him because he just sleep-talking. Then, after we had laid down he said, (and not too quietly) "As it was" and we both started laughing and woke up one of his friends. Strangeness.

By the end of our first day in Dublin we were happy, and looking forward to the next day's fun activities. How Dublin deceived us...

Deutschland (II)

I’m fairly certain that I caught a German bug on Halloween because the next day I was disproportionately sick for about four drinks. Unfortunately we had a full day ahead of us. One of Dee’s aunts had planned out the entire day for us. So I dragged my half-dead self out of bed around 9 and by 10 we were at her aunt’s house waiting for everyone to assemble. Although I don’t speak German, I did understand everyone looking at le saying ‘alcohol’ and giving me the pity look. Luckily most of them were outside already when I stumbled to bathroom to empty myself out.

I’ve already mentioned that Germans are crazy drivers, and uncle Willie was no exception. We piled into their mini-van with aunt and uncle in the front, Dee and I and her cousin Dinah in the middle, and her two other cousins Celina and Kristina in the back. I felt like death the whole 45 minute drive to breakfast where I couldn’t eat anything. Another fifteen to the Rhine River, which we crossed in a ferry. Despite my wretched state I did appreciate the beauty of the place. But my wretchedness overcame me soon after we parked on the other side and Dee’s whole family got to see me puke bright green into a sewer. Then I felt like a true ass because as her aunt (who was really nice) was holding my head, her camera fell into the sewer. Luckily they were able to fish it out and clean it off so looking back it’s kind of funny.

The first part of our day we just walked through the little streets of this town. Although I looked and felt like hell, some part of me enjoyed it. Our next stop was a really big statue on the side of the mountains lining the Rhine. Really amazing views, and as I was glued to a bench Dee took some nice photos for me. And as we were leaving my body decided to empty out again. I told Dee and she yelled to her family, “Don’t look she’s gonna blow again!” Thanks Dee.

Then it was in the van to drive to some more mountains to a former monastery. We didn’t spend much time there but the grounds were really pretty. After this we drove to a little restaurant to meet up with another aunt. We just had drinks, but they wanted to bring us there because the family butcher shop supplied meat to the place. Back in the ban for ridiculous mountain driving. I think Dee and I both had the same wondrous yet scared shitless expressions on our faces the whole time. This windy road led us to ‘Buena Vista’, a Mexican restaurant. So I tried my first enchilada in a German Mexican restaurant.

Her aunt told us that we had one more stop to make; we were going to visit her grandmother. So we drive back into their small town, nothing unusual about that. We stop in a driveway and get out and go through the gate, and I notice that there are no lights on in the house… strange. Also strange is that we were going into the yard and not towards the house. And that’s about when I realized that the ‘yard’ was full of tombstones. Oh! Right. Her aunt’s grandmother would be really old if she was alive, we’re just visiting her grave. That was little unexpected. Her aunt apologized for not fore-warning us and possibly spooking us. After this little adventure we finally went home so I could sleep off whatever was wrong with me.

Le lendemain (the next day), after breakfast we went for a walk with aunt Edie through the back and farm roads of Wopenroth (their town). We walked maybe three or four km, and it was really cold, and the fog made it hard to see really far, but what we could see was really pretty. We saw lots of farmland, and got up close to some cute cows too. On the way back we passed some walnut trees and then had fresh walnuts with maple syrup when we get back. One of my new favorite snacks.

Now normally lunch time isn't exactly blog-worthy, but this one is. Her aunt had been cooking a big pot of pasta sauce since the night before. C'était énorme! Delicious tomato sauce filled with peppers, onions, garlic and olive oil. She also had salad with homemade salad dressing, also quite delicious (and that's from someone who, as a general rule, doesn't like salad dressing). I think I gained about five pounds in that one meal. And sorry people, but there's just no way to describe the incredibleness that my mouth experienced during the meal. oh and I almost forgot, there was homemade, very chunky apple sauce as well, which tasted like a really good apple pie without the crust.

After lunch, and a little time of not being able to move, we drove to yet another relative's house. We only stayed a few minutes, then piled back in the car with a cousin (3rd I think) and her mother, then we went off to the Mosel River. First we stopped in a very old town. We really only walked around and window shopped, but it was still nice. Aunt Edie bought us each a champagne filled chocolate...I'm pretty sure if you ate three or four you could catch a buzz...ridiculously strong and not that tasty (the chocolate was).

After listening to her cousin's mother tell us that every other building was really old for about four streets we went back to the car and took a long scenic drive along the Mosel River. The river cuts through some low mountains, and on almost every possible useable part of lard there were vineyards. They went up the side of the hills/mountains, even in really steep places. For the hundredth time I'm sure, my pictures give a much better description than I can.

Once we got back we stayed at Peter and Krista's house for a while (Krista and her mom were the ones that came with us). We had some wine and tea and pie (cherry was delicious). Back at aunt Edie's we watched a movie and had some dinner. Later on we got ready to go out again, and around 10h30 Dee's cousin Dinah came to pick us and Hannah up. We took another semi- long and very frightening drive through the fog to Frankfurt to a club. Then we had to wait in line for awhile. Surprisingly we got in though I was doubting we would while the bouncer was glaring us and our ISIC cards down. But we got in, and it was crazy: four bars and three dance floors in one place. Oh and lots of German that we couldn't understand. I asked for a kamikaze, and they gave me a shot with regular, lemon and lime vodka...not what I wanted... oh well.

We only got about three hours of sleep before we had to get up to get ready for the airport. Everything went fine except for one thing. For some reason the customs officers had a problem with my visa and wouldn't let me into the departure gate for a good ten minutes. I was getting pretty scared by the time they let me through. But finally, to Dublin!

Vacance: the Second Leg: Deutschland (I)

Once we stepped off the train, we were reminded of one very important fact: kein deutsch (I don’t speak German). After finding our way to the ausgang (exit) we spent about fifteen minutes looking for the right bus stop. The bus took us to Hahn Airport, and was supposed to take 1h45m, but our driver managed t in 1h15m. Oh boy. Let me tell you all, I thought I was going to have to cash in my repatriation. He was an absolutely crazy driver, and we were the only ones on the bus. Later on we found out that all Germans are fucking insane on the road. Once at Hahn we had to wait or Dee’s aunt Edie to pick us up. By the time we finally got back to her place it was about 11pm so we just got settled in and went to bed. But guess what folks, we had real beds! At home our beds are just pieces of foam, and at the hostel in Amsterdam they were closer to stone, but these… She also had nice sheets and big thick comforters; it reminded me of my gramma’s house.

Wednesday (31 octobre), well actually every day we were there, we didn’t have to worry about finding something to do. Dee’s grandmother is from Germany and a lot of her family lives in one town, and they all wanted to see her and take us places. So Wednesday after breakfast we headed off to Idar-Oberstein with her aunt Edie. For those of you who, like me, don’t know a thing about stones and jewelry, this is a small German town that is world renown for jewelry-making and dealing stones (like diamonds, lapis lazuli, etc). She took us to the gemstone museum, which I thought would be slightly boring but turned out not to be. People have made some amazing things with stone, examples of which you can find on photobucket.

After this we had lunch and walked around the town a little bit. Also in this town is a church that was built into the rock face of a mountain/hill. There are stairs to get up to it, and also the mountain is sort of tiered with lanes and houses on each one. It was a really beautiful thing to see. The drive to and from this town was also beautiful thanks to the German countryside.

A little while after we got back we took a very short drive to where more of Dee’s family lives, and we a met a bunch of them because a little cousin was having a birthday party. Now the Germans have it right in this respect. At this party, there was no pizza, no snacks, and no finger foods. There were two different things on the tables: coffee and cakes. There were three tables, and each one had two different types of cake. I had a piece of mostly chocolate marble cake with glaze, and two amazing pieces of German chocolate cake with frosting that had the consistency of a light mousse, but tasted like hot fudge and made me want to eat myself sick (but I didn’t). Eventually we escaped the cakes and made it back to aunt Edie’s. We relaxed for a while and had dinner there.

Around 10pm, Dee did my face and we joined her cousin Hannah on a trip to a nearby town. In case anyone didn’t catch the date, it was Halloween and we were going to a party. It was in an old airplane hangar, and there was a band, Paddy Goes to Holyhead (we later learned they’re quite popular). Her cousin apologized because the drinks were expensive at 2-3€, and was astounded when we told her how much we pay: 5-8€. But it was a fun time, and the band was good. We ended up buying two of their cds and got free lighters. They’re German but have Irish sounding music and Irish accents when speaking English, they also sing in English. Since neither one of use spoke German, we thought it would be fun (and it was) to say our few random phrases to people as they passed us. These phrases are: kein deutsch (no German), wilkomenn (welcome), and salzt und pfeffre bitte (salt and pepper please). We also shook the people’s hands while saying this to them. Most people just laughed and brushed it off, but one guy actually started talking to us because he knew both English and French. We ended up jigging (not a real jig though) to a couple of songs. After the band was done Dee and I took over the stage, and I even got to dance with their electric fiddle player! All in all it was a really fun night and we didn’t get to bed until 4am.

Vacance: the First Leg: Amsterdam

We arrived on time, 11h15, and I learned my first word of Néerlandais: Uitgang = sortie = exit. Yay! Canals run through the city and some buildings are right on the water, as in open a window on one side, look straight down and see canal. The whole country is actually below sea level if I remember correctly, and hence the name 'Holland' ~ 'hollow land'. It was very strange being in a place where I didn't understand any of the signs or native language. But thankfully owing to the ridiculous amounts of Anglophones that visit, almost everyone speaks English. I heard a lot of English, though sometimes it took a long time to realize that it was actually English coming from an Irishman’s mouth...so I think we might be a little screwed when we get to Ireland.

Most of the city seems really dark, I think it might be because the streets are kind of small, and the buildings are kind of high, dark-colored and right on top of each other. Although the streets were dark, the open places (French style) were pretty, and so were some of the big city buildings. Our hostel was right in the red-light district, so it was close to everything, but not on a really crazy street with the actual red lights on the buildings. We met a group of Australian students who are also studying in France, but in Lille (up north).

Our first day we just walked around a lot. I tried falafel for the first time. It wasn't bad, but I think I'm set with it for at least a month. The pigeons in Amsterdam are incredibly fat, and they reminded me of my cat Mindy with their fat, round bodies and their little heads. After walking around some more we stopped at a coffee shop and people-watched for a while. I've got to say, the people in Amsterdam are a step-down from France. They're a little better with the smell, but in the facial area... not so good. Although there are ton of tourists.

That evening we went to Madame Tussaud's wax museum. They had a live-actor section with a Pirates-like theme and Dee screamed so loud at one point. It was a lot of fun. Later that night we took a walk around the real red-light district. We walked down one street, then crossed a canal and walked back up the other side. Then we got adventurous and decided to take in a sex-show. It wasn't hard core or anything, but it was pretty hilarious, especially when the SM and the 'Caribbean dancer' woman found victims in the audience.

The next day, Sunday, we walked around some more until we decided to figure out the tram to get to some museums a little ways away. We managed to get tickets, get on the right line, and get off near our first museum... the Van Gogh Museum. It was four floors big: the bottom was an exhibit on Barcelona, the top showed mainly his influences. I took a picture of a Monet, and then two minutes later some one else got yelled at for taking a picture. So I have only one illegal photo, and it's not even a Van Gogh. Only about one and a half floors were actually Van Gogh, but it was still nice.

Our next stop of the day was the Anne Frank House. Not recommended for people with walking problems, or those who have difficulties with stairs, or vertigo. I was on the smallest and steepest stairs in my life, and there were four floors. It was really interesting though. You can go in all of the rooms, and they explain each one. They also show what it looked like when they lived there, and had artifacts and quotes and stuff like ID cards and newspapers they read. It's not as depressing as we thought it would be. They also had two videos to watch, one of Miep, and another of a woman that knew Anne both before and at the concentration camp. It was very much worth the 7,50€ ticket.

Monday Kay and her friend were supposed to arrive, so Dee and I ate breakfast and stuff and waited until they did. More walking around, resting at a coffeshop, then a pizza place (the third time at that place for Dee and I), and a bar. We also went to the Sex Museum, which was funny. By 10pm we were all back at the hotel and ready for bed.

Tuesday morning we all had to pack up and check out. We had a wonderful breakfast at this place next door. Dee has some sandwich, Kay had the best omelette I've ever tasted, and her friend had a pancake (read: crepe) with bananas and chocolate sauce. I, my friends, had the best damn breakfast: pancake (plate-sized crepe), with creamy ice cream, a big mound of slagroom (whipped cream) and chocolate sauce. Oh god I was in heaven. And on top of finishing mine, I helped Kay with hers!

We managed to find and get on our train just fine. It was four hours long, but arrived on time. Around 8h30 we arrived in Deutschland, and that's all folks.

Vacances: Pre-Trip

The next week we calmed down a bit and finalized most of the plans for our trip. Tuesday we went to a free showing of "Un Verité qui Dérange" or..."An Inconvenient Truth" in English with French subtitles. They showed it at Polytech and hey, no surprise, it started 45 minutes late. Afterwards we went with JP and Sou to our friend Gilles dorm room for fajitas. Holy hell am I glad I don't live on campus.

Going back in time to Tuesday afternoon... crazy story. I finished up at the computer lab after class, and went down to the tram stop. The next one wasn't for 12 minutes. Five minutes later Dee shows up. So we wait another seven minutes but no tram came and the wait time went up to 20 minutes. No way. We go over to the bus stop and wait at least another 10 minutes. I didn't have to actually get on, the mass of students behind me just pushed me on. It was ridiculously full. About 2/3 of the way to our stop, the bus is trying to turn into a roundabout, and this car is trying to squeeze by on the right (remember, just like in the states, buses take wide right turns), so the bus hits him and he gets super pissed even though it was his fault. Really funny. But it took us over an hour to get home.

Thursday we packed and ate a bunch of food and finished a bottle of champagne. Friday we both got up early to go to our 9am classes. After my class I had a little bit of time to go back and finish packing and cleaning up a little bit. I couldn't find the paper on which I wrote things we wanted to do and directions so I spent some time tearing up my room looking for it and ended up leaving about 15 minutes later than I meant to. I actually left at the time I told Dee I would meet her up at the centre-commercial and we didn't find each other until fifteen minutes before our train was to leave. But we got on the train with everything else and then I left my scarf on the navette (I believe). We arrived on time and made it to the Charles de Gaulle airport just fine. Then we hit a streak of bad luck and waiting in line. To make it short: we waited to see our flight on the departure board and when it didn't after about an hour we asked someone who told us we were in the wrong terminal. So, to the other end of the airport where they had even better news... our flight had been cancelled thanks to a cabin crew strike, and they didn't have any more flights to Amsterdam until the next day. The first terminal we were in had some flights, so back we went. It took about 20 minutes to get there and then to find the ticket counter. Once in line we waited over two hours to get to the counter. During this time Dee and I went insane. We had a small picnic, and sang many, many songs. All of that to find out that all the flights to Amsterdam until Sunday afternoon were either cancelled or booked. Maybe we could try a train? Fine. We found a train for the next morning at 6h55 out of a different train station. We took them for 101 euros each and went back into the city to the other train station. It was after 11pm when we got there. We had dinner and decided to try to stay up all night in either a bar or a club. This didn't quite work and after dinner and coffee we went in search of a hotel. We went to four of them before finding one with an open room and wasn't too expensive. We slept for about five hours before waking up and getting back to the train station. Our train arrived on time, we got on ok, and it left on time.
And now commences the story of our vacation.

La Semaine Folle

The week after our weekend in Paris, Dee and I experienced an absolutely insane week. Monday we took my sister with us and JP to our bar...always fun times there. And guess what people, I found a beer that I would prefer over chalk! Bière blanche (later note: it's 1664 white beer). Before that we had all gone out to dinner with ma grand-mère. My sister had gotten something with bbq sauce which I spread all over my pizza... How I've missed bbq chicken pizza! Tuesday night the four of us just hung out in my room. Wednesday however...oh boy. JP and his friend Gilles came over to hang out with the three of us, and everyone but my sister experienced their first power hour. Around 11 we left for the Polytech, and the party for students. I think we had more fun than most people there. French girls need to loosen up. Thursday morning my sister and grand-mère left for Paris, so it was just Crazy and Insane left to their own devices. Thursday night there was a party in a bar for the Erasmus students; so we went anyways. Nothing too crazy, jut out later than we had anticipated. I found out that people all over Europe like Grease, and therefore the medley, and most know the dance moves too. Friday night we had two engagements to attend. First we had been invited to our bar by a bunch of Portuguese that were all meeting there. We were also invited to Dee's host-sister's apartment for a birthday dinner. We weren't sure who would be there, but I don't think we were expecting nine other people there. Most of the time we were confused and lost. But we did manage some conversation and laughs. Around 11pm we headed for the bar. Definitely one of the most fun times I've had while out here. A little before 3am we went back to the girl's apartment, even though we had said we would be back by 1. People were just leaving, so we said our bonsoirs and three of the guys were nice enough to walk us back to our place.

Saturday morning/afternoon found Dee and I on a train to Paris. After completely circling Gare du Nord we found one of the four subways in France. It was yummy. Then we found our way to a museum near the Moulin Rouge and spent quite some time wondering around inside. After we traversed Paris following bad directions to the Catacombs. We asked four people and none of them even knew what we were talking about. Finally we texted our friend Sou and gave us the right directions. By the time we got there it had been closed for an hour. Oh well.

After this little adventure we had dinner and then met up with JP and Sou. They took us to Sou's sister's apartment, where we met about five other people. So we had snacks and drinks and the reason for this little fete was that it was Sou's birthday. At some point we went out in search of a bar. It was very late and very cold, by the time we got there I was 3/4 of the way into turning into an icicle. The way back was just as bad because we didn't really know how to get back, so we walked, then took a bus, and eventually a taxi. We stayed at her place that night. Sunday around 13h we headed back to Orleans with Sou and JP.

So that concludes ma semaine folle. It was quite the week I must say, and was a lot crazier for me than I made it sound. I do believe that I'm a little changed because of it.

Paris

12-15/10/07

Finalement! I had been waiting for my gramma and sister to come to France and Friday was the day. I had one class, texts littéraire, and there was a control continue, which I bombed. But after, I went to Dee and Kay’s second class because they were exposés. Kay was first with the history of women’s rights in the US. She did quite well, I’m proud. Then Dee talked about alimentation in the states. At the end of hers, she let everyone try some authentic American food, sent by her mom. She had fluff (which some of the other Americans hadn’t seen before), dried blueberries and cranberries (both native to North America), EZ cheese, mini Reese’s cups, and Oreos. I think everyone was a little weirded out by the EZ cheese, but quite a few students tried some.

After that we bought some pain au chocolat (and a jambon beurre for me) and hopped on the tram. Dee went home and Kay and I headed to the train station… à Paris! We got there ok, got a little lost looking for the metro, but made it to their hotel only half an hour after we said we would be there. The guy at the desk said we were the first to arrive…what? So we went up to the room and waited. I didn’t want to go out, but I didn’t really want to stay in either. So we flipped channels until we heard a knock. They were hungry so after they got all settled in we went out to eat, mais sans Kay. She went to an Ani Difranco concert, which was quite amazing I hear. When she got back we walked around for a little while with my sister, who is now probably addicted to french pastries. She was pretty freakin’ excited about the McDonald’s near the hotel.

Saturday we took the open bus tour around the city. We saw all the famous shit: Eiffel Tower, Arche de Triomphe, Champs Elysée, and la Place de la Concorde. We also visited Napoleon’s tomb, Notre Dame, and the Rodin museum.

Paris was full of Anglophones, thanks to the rugby matches: France vs. England and South Africa vs. Argentina. Unfortunately France lost. On the Eiffel Tower there was a huge TV screen, and I’m guessing they showed the match there. They were actually in Paris (hence all the other people). In the middle of the Eiffel Tower there was also a huge rugby ball. I’m sure it was absolutely crazy there, even though France wasn’t playing that well.

Sunday we did the Louvre. All day. I think I skipped two wings on two floors. In case you don’t know, the Louvre is fucking big, and it has four floors each with three wings. So that’s twelve wings, and Kay and I saw eight. Not bad…very tiring. I didn’t find the one painting I was hoping to, but they had a poster of it in the shop, so I bought that for myself instead.

The four of us arrived in Orléans around 8pm. My sister had brought the movie Anchorman, so Kay and I took that back to watch with Dee who missed us terribly despite her own amazing weekend. After story time JP showed up and we watched the movie together with peanut butter M&M’s. Yummy yummy in my tummy.

Another Drinking Story

I swear to you all I’m not an alcoholic. I realized when going over the week that I seem to always mention drinking. Here’s why: during the week nothing really noteworthy happens. I go to class, I do homework, cook, hang out with Dee and Kay and JP…sometimes watch a movie… that’s about it. We only drink on the weekends, and it’s usually only one night. So it may seem like all I’m doing is drinking but I’m really not. But here’s my story of the week.

Friday (5 octobre) was Foreign Friday again. This time we decided to get Indian food…to go. So we ordered our food then went to our favorite bar (Le Petit Barcelone) to have a drink while we waited. While we were ordering and waiting for the drinks, a man at the bar was staring intently at us. Kay and I sat down with our drinks, and the guy started talking to Dee. When she sat down she said that he had asked her if we all spoke English because he recognized our accents, and said that he was Scottish. How quaint. A few minutes later we saw our friend Fatima walk by, so we invented her to sit with us. She went up to order a drink and hugged this guy and started talking to him! Strange coincidence. So she sits and he stands and we learn the story (not unboring enough to put here). We reminded Fatima that we were supposed to a little soirée that night, and made her promise to come. She did. So we left, got our food, and went back to Dee’s to enjoy it and feel completely stuffed. Then we got everything cleaned out and decided to whip out our deck of cards to start a party with just ourselves. Fatima came soon over, and then no one. We were thinking it was gonna be a sorry excuse for a party, but then JP showed up…another card game. Then a girl from DAF came with her boyfriend, and then the guy from the bar…then another girl and her boyfriend…then one of our neighbors. So it was fun. At some point three other Anglophone girls and another frenchie showed up, but I didn’t really pay them much attention and they didn’t stay long, or play any games. I’ve gotta say, Kings with six people is more fun. All in all, it was a great night, and I have some funny photos. The next day I realized that I’m not very photogenic when drunk because I laugh and my eyes close. Oops. So that’s my party story.

Monday night we (along with every other foreign student in the university) were invited to a tour of the city, followed by a… thing with the mayor… and a little concert. We didn’t go on the tour, but we did go to the next thing. We believed that since it was with the mayor and we were getting ‘honorary wine’ that it would be a little classy… so we dressed up. We got there and it turned out that we were three of about ten students that dressed up. Oh well. Better off over-dressed. The mayor gave a little speech, he seems nice and he’s rather young. Then the president of our university gave a little speech. Then they let us loose on the wine… and space to ‘mingle’. It wasn’t so bad. We each two or three glasses of wine out of it. The concert was ‘Bach to Zappa’, and the group had five musicians: 1) French horn, 2) bassoon, 3) oboe and bass oboe, 4) flute and wood flute, and 5) bass, soprano, and Bb clarinet. Guess which one I liked the best. It wasn’t actually wasn’t that bad. I got some pics and two video clips (both up on facebook and photobucket). There was also a strange guy sitting next to us, which made it that much more interesting.

Chambord, Cheverny, and the French healthcare system

Saturday, as stated, was a free field trip. We got to campus around 8h10, bought delicious pain au chocolat from our favorite little café, and waited to board our coach buses (there were two of them, both full). It was pretty cold out that morning and I was quite happy to get on the bus finally. Around 8h45 we actually left. It took about an hour to get there, so of course the three of us passed out.


Our first chateau was that of Chambord, and it was big. The parking lot is actually behind it, so our first views were of the back. That doesn't really matter though because it's big and beautiful no matter what angle you're viewing it from. Most of the other people went in the same general direction, but they were slow s we said no and went off to be exclusive once more. We had a great time with it too. Chambord is huge, and is kind of in two parts. There's the center, square part, and the outer wall. in the front the surrounding wall is only one story high and that's where the entrance and gift shop are. On the backside it's four floors high, accessible by a stone spiral staircase in each corner. The center square, also the oldest part, is also four floors high, with a terrace on top. In the center is a big double spiral staircase. I believe we explored almost every explorable room in the place. It took hours and about 50 pictures to do so. The architecture, especially on top, is gorgeous (as you can see on facebook and photobucket). It's kind of hard to describe the chateau or what we did, so I won't. Feel free to give yourself a personal tour via the many pictures; I have no qualms about you living vicariously through me

After lunch (some not-so-great pizza and 1+1/2 cones of delicious ice cream -ask Dee about the half) we got back on our buses and took a 20 minute drive to the much smaller chateau of Cheverny. While still pretty, we were unfortunately not quite as impressed with this one. Maybe our standards were too high. One reason for that is you can only visit about a third of the rooms. The family still actually lives there...I would've liked to see what they've done with their part of it. The big seller for Cheverny is the grounds. Again, not huge like Chambord's, but the open part is beautiful. A biiig lawn spotted with trees and rolling mini-hills. There's also a stream/mini-river that runs through the grounds and separates the open part from the private part. Again, my pictures can paint a better picture than I can. The gift shop pretty much sucked, except for one thing. They had a photo booth were you could take your picture and put it on a background of a view of Cheverny. The three of us each bought one, with all three of us in it, and we each have different scenes. On the back it's like a postcard. Dee sent hers but Kay and I still have ours. Once I come back I'll see about scanning mine to get it online somewhere.

Then finally the ride back, and almost everyone fell asleep. A kid in the row in front and across from us fell asleep half on his friend with his mouth wide open. Then he started snoring, and the three of us and his three friends starting laughing. Then he started snoring louder and everyone within three rows turned around to look at him until he finally woke himself up with it. I think Kay got a picture of him.

We arrived on campus a little before 18h. Perfect. I wanted to go to the infirmière, which opened again at 18h (their hours are 10h-12h30 and 18h-19h30). I had gone to the medecin preventative on campus, to inquire about my allergy shots. They directed me to this infirmière. So I go and I ask her if she can do them. This is when I find out that my doses are in cc's and their needles are in ml's: Problem 1. Problem 2 was that I needed an 'ordnance' from a doctor because she technically didn't have the right to do it even if she knew how much to give me. So I had to go to a doctor. I asked her where one was abound there, and she said they wouldn't be open this late on a Saturday. I wish I knew how to politely say 'no shit' in French. I asked again if she knew where one was. She said if I wanted to I could go to a hospital. So I left shotless and disappointed. But it didn't cost me a thing!

Oh, oh those summer nights!

1 octobre 2007

Sitting in my window the other day, I had the pleasure of hearing some one's radio. The Grease medley came on and I almost fell out laughing. I didn't know it was such a big hit here.

Last week was friggin' cold, and now it's the first of October. Everyday last week was overcast or rainy, and never over 55°F. Fortunately I only got caught in the rain once, Friday while walking home from the tram. but a little while later I went out and bought a parapluie.

I've had a couple of requests to describe my daily life and routine, so here you go people. I get up a different time each day, depending on when my first class is, and whether or not I'm going to wash my hair. This means I wake up between 7h and 9h30, unless it's the weekend. For breakfast each morning I eat two or three pieces of toast (toasted right on the burner), and either a croissant or a pain au chocolat. I leave 45 minutes before my first class. Once or twice a week I will go with Dee and Kay. When I do we talk and laugh and such on the way. I really don't mind when I have o go alone though. It gives me thinking time, and time with my music. Although I don't walk through the streets singing, the world is a different place with a soundtrack. So then I get on the tram and stay on for about 20 minutes, then there's a quick walk to the fac de lettres. After my first class I go to lunch, almost always at Le Forum, which is a university restaurant (cafeteria). Half the time I eat with Kay and Dee, the other times I eat with some of the girls from my class. Thursday I go to the computer lab because I've yet to break my internet addiction. But I also email people and type up these posts for you wonderful people. Mondays I also go to the computer lab, so if you want to email me, know that I can respond Monday and Thursday afternoons, or mornings in the states. (After note: I've found a way to go to the computer lab practically every weekday.)

On Monday I'm also on food duty. Dee and Kay have class 1h30 - 3h30, then 3h30 - 5h, and we all have cinema from 5 - 8. But I only have class from 1h30 - 3h. Then I go to the computer lab until it closes at 4h20. Then I go down to the scrumdidliuptious Fournil d'Or (aka Le cafè) and buy us some food so we don't die of hunger during our three hours of cinema. After classes each day...I go home! Not really very exciting. I do, however, have to actually make something for dinner each night. Sometimes Kay or Dee will feed me, sometimes I feed them. But I'm trying to get into the habit of making a full meal each night. My first week I pretty much had single subject meals. For example, pasta, or rice, or a cordon bleu. I'm determined to learn how to cook while I'm here. Although it's cheaper to eat crap in the states. I'm also getting very good at washing dishes while making dinner, and right after I finish. I try to spend some time each night doing homework and cleaning a little. Having a small apartment makes that easier. If I'm not hanging out with Kay, Dee, or JP I try to listen to the French news radio station, or read a newspaper or book in French.

So that's my life. Oh yeah, I do spend quite some time sitting in my window, listening to music, singing, or doing homework or writing. And of course watching people. Weekends vary greatly so I won't describe them generally. I will describe this past weekend.

Friday night we were sick of cooking and feeling adventurous. So for dinner we went to Le Madras; a cozy little Indian restaurant. It was fun, and pretty good. I didn't really like my second dish (poulet massala), but everything else I did (samosa, pakora, and rice), which kind of surprised me. For dessert Dee got Halva, which tastes a lot like cornbread, but it's orange and comes with 'feuille d'argent', which the waitress said was good for your circulation. Feuille d'argent is silver leaf. As in...there was waht appeared to be aluminum foil on top of her halva. We questioned it for a few minutes, then when she came by Dee asked if she was supposed to eat it. She told us...like I said before, it's feuille d'argent, and it's good for your circulation. Don't worry, it's not aluminum.

So Dee made herself a grill with it, and Kay and I both ate a little bit to get our blood running. We laughed for about five minutes straight.

Friday night was an early night though...Samedi we were going on a free trip, thanks to the SRI.

Le Festival de La Loire

This year was the third Festival, and it happens every other year. I heard that this year it was huge. Supposedly the last one was only during the weekend, and did not have as many shows and booths and such. I also heard that it might have been so big this year because someone is up for reelection...I don't follow local politics so I have no idea if that's true or not. This year it ran from Wednesday the 19th to Sunday the 23rd.

La Loire, as you might remember, is the big river that runs through Orléans, that also happens to be the largest, and about two minutes from my apartment. I'll try to be a little historic here and explain why it's a big deal. In the olden days, meaning I believe the 18th century, the Loire was a hopping place. However the bottom is shallow and rocky in many places, and therefore hard to travel with your average boat. To get around this they made flat-bottomed boats. Me, myself, personally, I don't find the technical reasoning interesting, but they are quite proud to have all these boats here. The part that interested me was everything else. Both sides of the Quai were lined with tents. They went for about..ok I don't know distances. But speed walking probably five minutes without anyone blocking your path. When it's packed and you're looking at everything and everyone... 15 - 20 minutes to walk the length. The tents had different vendors: cheese, meat, jams, crepes, gauffres, fish, cheese, jams. They also had four or five cafes setup, and a pub. A couple of organizations and local artisans also had tents. Then they had a few different stages with performances throughout the festival. I only saw a couple. I caught the end of a drumming group, and we watched a flame thrower for a few minutes. They also had a group of people kind of like Cirque de Soleil. They were on ropes and did acrobatic-like things. People who have seen Cirque will know what I mean. The other group was a musical group. I have no idea what instruments they were playing, but there were two guys. Their instruments stood about as tall as them, and they were electric. They made some of the weirdest music I've ever heard. I was smart enough to take a video, and eventually I'll try to get that up on facebook and photobucket...hopefully.

Unfortunately I didn't get to spend as much time there as I wanted. But I did buy a très bon crepe, and Saturday night we went and saw the 20 minute firework show.

I believe in my last post I was describing the wonderful cold that I had rattraped. That was the main reason I didn't go down to the Loire. Friday night I recuperated slightly and Kay and Dee convinced me I felt well enough to go out. Dee met a Polish guy at school and we went with him to the club. it was fun, bien sur. I realized that French girls dance like it's '92. And Poland could not dance to save his life. I also found out that drinking and staying up do not help a cold...At all...

Saturday I slept a lot, but Kay came up for dinner. Prepare yourselves people. We made an amazing dinner. Fiesta chicken, it was my idea. We made rice and corn, flavored with a little bit of texmex spices. Fried some red pepper and added some to the rice and corn. Then we put the rest with the chicken, which was also spiced. It was, as I said, amazing. It looked great too...I took pictures.

Later that night my friend JP came over for the fireworks. Both Kay and Dee had gotten in tiffs with people over the phone, so they decided we needed to cheer up. We accomplished this with rum, wine and two games of Kings. So Sunday was another recovery day...sleeping...eating...being slow and doing homework.

And that was how I ended Le Festival de la Loire

La Deuxieme Semaine

17th - 19th septembre

Well, well, well. Already two weeks into the semester, and I'm getting my schedule down. Tuesday I finally my student ID card, which means I could then do three things : 1) get my student-discounted month tram ticket, 2) access my new school email account, and 3) use the computers (and the internet!) in my fac.

By now I've attended at least one session of each of my classes, although I had to leave one early for an appointment, and missed the last three of the week. Grammar is still my least favorite, and hardest course. I was also frustrated three times this week by teachers glazing over what I was trying to say to them...Let me explain...or bitch...whatever you want to call it.

1) Writing. We played a game about wild animals, don't ask me what this has to do with writing, I don't know. One of the animals was a moose. I tried to describe it, and the prof told us the name. When she saw the picture she realized that she had told us the wrong animal, and said it was a caribou. I asked if it was the same word in English, because in English there is an animal called a caribou, and it is not a moose. I looked up the word for moose (orignal) and she asked me to explain the difference. Well I couldn't because I didn't remember exactly what a caribou is. She replied that since they have neither in France, the French just categorize them all into caribou. Well fine then, don't accept the fact that I know more about North American wild animals than you.

2) Francophonie. We were talking about countries that speak French. The teacher didn't list Madagascar under the countries whose official languages were French and something else. I pointed this out. As I was trying to explain that French is the second language and quite a few people speak it, she said that there might be a few people who speak and moved on. Now, my facts might be wrong, I'll admit that (Adam you might able to help me with those facts) but don't just ignore me and cut me off.

3) Pratique orale. We had to listen to a clip and write down the details, then she asked us in groups of three to tell her what info we had gathered. I had one thing to say after the other two girls went; that an American engineer decided to put the arobase (@) in keyboards in 1972. I got about halfway there and she stopped me to say that no, it was invented in the 19th century. Ummm, not what I was saying at all. Then she left. I heard another girl say the same thing I had been trying to say and the prof's response? 'Tres bien' Alright, no more talking for a while.

Anyways, aside from those things the first part of my week wasn't bad. My French friend (JP), who speaks English pretty well, as well as Spanish, has been helping me with French a bit and giving me other useful info. Thanks to a lack of communication I had no idea whether or not I could apply for aid from the French government. The people at my residence said that I had to. The people at SRI said that because I'm only here for one semester that I couldn't. JP said he knew a girl that lived here last year, for only one semester and she got money. So I applied, I'm not sure I'll get anything, but I used their little calculator to estimate if I would, and it said I could get up to 150 euros a month. That would be amazing. And you have to love the fact that I'm more likely to get financial aid from a foreign country than I am from my own. Yay for socialism! JP told me that he pays about 800euro a year to go the university. That's full cost, no scholarships.

French universities are similar to American ones in at least one big way: when someone gets sick, a lot of people get sick. That's right folks, I've got a French cold. I had been sniffly since Sunday, though I couldn't tell if it was the cold or my allergies. Thursday morning I knew that even if it was my allergies as well, I had gotten whatever was going around. Apparently so did some of my other classmates who didn't show up. First I had two and a half hours of pratique orale. I felt like shit. Then I got lunch with JP at Le cafe, and who would've guessed that their jambon buerre sandwichs made on a baguette would be completely banging as well. The whole time I was contemplating whether or not I could make it through two hours of grammar. I decided to use a computer in the meantime. Little did I know that the time on said computer was half an hour behind. So ten minutes before I thought class was starting I went downstairs. I didn't know which room it was because it was a make-up class from Wednesday. Wait a few moments...no one... Go to the bathroom...no one... Finally I check the time on my ipod and see that class had started 40 minutes earlier. Well shit. I was still not feeling great, so I went home. I didn't feel too bad the rest of the day and managed to do laundry and clean. I told myself to go to bed by 11 so I could get a full eight hours of sleep. At 10:30 I was quite sniffly and passed out next to my homework. I woke up around 5am with dry lips from breathing through my mouth, and two hives forming...one above each eyebrow. My alarm went off at seven. Snooze. 7:10. Snooze. 7:20. With a nose full of snot and my left eye slightly closed from the hive, I contemplated if I should attempt class. A glass of juice told me no. At 7:40 I called Kay to ask her if she could sign me up for the trip to some castles for the next weekend, then went back to bed. Around 8:15 she came up to get my student ID card and I asked her to tell my two profs I was sick. Then I took a benadryl because having an itchy forehead is a horrible feeling, and went back to sleep. Around 11:30 I finally got up and ate some breakfast. By then I was looking decidedly like Quasimodo with a swollen forehead and my left eye forced 2/3 closed thanks to the hive. Oh and don't forget the sniffles, dry mouth, and slightly painful throat.

By 12:45 I was asleep again next to the French magazine I had been reading. Finally a little after 2 I woke up and decided to try to be human by taking a shower and eating again, and trying not to see my reflection.