October 17th

This day was a twinkie. Twinkie's, as you all know, are composed of a light sponge cake with a fluffy cream filling at its center. From what I've heard, people tend to enjoy the filling the most. Personally I hate twinkies, but as a simile it works because when you eat a twinkie you have to go through the squishy cake bits in order to access the buttery filling. My day started off really stressed and appeared to be impossible, like finding the light at the end of a tunnel, similar to the cakey bit of the twinkie. Some background info on the situation. About a week ago I ordered a package from a store in Toulouse called My American Market. It's this online market where you can order a bunch of American snacks and foods that France doesn't sell. For instance My American Market sells pumpkin pie filling, mike and ikes, and laffy taffy. I wanted the pie filling, and added a bunch of candy on to make the order the minimum twenty dollar requirement, and wanted it to arrive as soon as possible. What an idiot I was. Instead of choosing the standard shipping through the regular mail system I chose express through a packaging company called TNT. Stupid stupid stoopid! TNT is short for Team of Normandy Tools. At 11:30 am on last Friday I received a call from a random number which turned out to be a TNT delivery man. He was at St. Nicolas with my package. Great. I was at the university library about to go to lunch. I asked if he could wait fifteen minutes, he said no. I asked if he could leave the package, another no. I finally asked if he could just swing by the library, yet again no. He then told me that he would leave a slip of paper with an address on it where I could pick up my package before two o'clock. I had class at 2:00pm so no pick up on Friday. Saturday was even better. I decided that I would go pick up the package from the address that morning, but two things stopped me. The address was one and the other was an e-mail from Turds N' Twits. The e-mail informed me that my package would be delivered that day. I tried to check the status of the package, but the website only stated that it was awaiting orders. Ok? Guess I'll wait for that to happen. It never happened. I heard no word from Turkeys with No Tracking for two straight days until they attempted to call me while I was in class. Why do they keep thinking that 10:00-11:00 am is a logical time to deliver a package that requires a signature? Oh yeah this land of France where people complain about working every Friday and having shifts that last more than six hours. That brings us to today. They called me again, round noon actually. I was thrilled for not only was I home, but I had my identification and delivery slip ready. Too bad it wasn't a delivery call. Nope, it was a call telling me that my package was waiting for me at the flower shop. This wouldn't have been an issue if the flower shop didn't close at two o'clock on Wednesdays. I was a mess. There was no way I could leave my dorm without at least a shower and some food. It was 1:00 pm when I was ready to go, and I mean go. I ran out of my dorm like a maniac only to realize that it wasn't worth it. I stopped, by the docks, and just considered my situation. I was about an hour away from a flower shop, who's location is questionable, that might have my package in it with less than an hour's time to make it there before it closed at two. And there's always tomorrow. Huh. I shrugged, gave a Mary version of "yolo", and sauntered to the docks for some rest and relaxation. Kate was there, she was finished for the day, and greeted me with an, "everything ok?" I suppose that I looked pretty distant. I laughed and told her the story to which she just smiled and shook her head. I sat down, opened my computer, and began to research possible trip options for the upcoming fall break. Kate and I ultimately decided on four days in Lyon and two in Paris. I booked the hostels, she bought the tickets, and everything was set. We officially have a trip for vacation! Finally I reached that creamy center.

October 16th

Tutor time, again. This time though there was no rain, a-score for Mary. Actually I arrived in the neighborhood thirty minutes early, which seems pretty wigged but better to be early rather than late. Besides I had my I-pod on me, 311 makes the time just slip by. Once it was finally 5:30 I rang the doorbell and was greeted by little Alexis. After saying a big, "hello Mary," he lead me to the breakfast room where Louis was waiting for me. Oh Louis, you silly twelve and a half year old. I tend to forget that at that age kids still think that the main adults in their life are always right. Well Louis they aren't, especially when it comes to English prepositions. This week was English irregular verb review, which went fine, followed by me checking over his homework. This is where to dispute of whether I was right or not occurred. One of his sentences, more so questions, read, "what are you doing at the weekend?" Hmm now what's the issue here? Oh wrong preposition kiddo. I told Louis that the word should be "over" rather than "at"; Louis didn't take too well to this correction. "My professor wrote that." Alright Louis. I almost said, but contained, "so?" I then told him that even though his professor is probably fluent in English he can make mistakes especially with prepositions. Nope, no sale. "My professor wrote it." Uh huh. Well it's wrong it should be over. I ended my argument by telling Louis that he should tell his professor that the "correct preposition" was "over", and that an American had told him. He had trouble processing this. I could tell that even though he is twelve, Louis wasn't able to understand that his teacher is human and that he is wrong sometimes. Oh well. Shortly after, Anne appeared and Louis left. Alright, time for round two. Anne, being older, is easier to work with when it comes to corrections. This week her English assignment was to take an article from a British paper and write a short speech about it. Ok no problem. The article was about rhino poaching in Africa, riveting. She then showed me her step-by-step format for the speech. Everything was going great until we hit a vocabulary snag. Written on her paper was "tub". Huh? What does a tub have to do with newspaper articles? I asked her what the word was, just in case it was French, and she responded, "oh toob." No honey, "toob" is spelled "t-u-b-e", this says "t-u-b". I was even more confused at the context in which it was used. Literally the string of words said, "attractive tub." Wow just wow. The two of us eventually just gave up. I proposed that it could be "tabs" as in the small column articles of the newspaper, but Anne said that she'd rather just ask her friend what it meant. Ah, there's the issue. Apparently Anne did not copy this directly from the board but rather a classmate's notes. One would think that in a country where chicken scratch cursive is the standard penmanship style that the students would know that copying English notes from another student with the French handwriting would just be kamikaze! This is another reason why the system of e-mails is fantastic; no one can misinterpret ariel or times new roman font. When it was time to leave everyone said goodbye to me, Louis had to be coaxed by his mother, and I walked into the sunshine. The walk home was enjoyable, I talked with my brother for a little while on the phone, before arriving at the dorm. Home sweet half-finished home.

October 15th

Late morning again, score for MareBear. Yesterday I wrote down a list of tasks, a grocery list, and a daily meal plan; all in French I might add. I am rather pleased with the result of this preparation. My breakfast was a lot easier to make since I had the menu written down.  Around noon I left for the library to upload some articles, check my e-mail, and goof-off online. What a fascinating agenda. At five-thirty I had my French civilization class which was interesting as usual. This week's topic was about citizenship and independence holidays. Paula and I talked about the fourth, duh, and the other students gave background to their independence days as well. Except for Kate. Humorously, many of the European countries that were mentioned had independence days that celebrate independence from Great Britain. Haha, poor Kate. She did tell everyone about a national holiday in Scotland that celebrates their heritage. It is centered around a renowned Scottish poet, who even has an ode to haggis piece, with dancing, kilt wearing, haggis eating, and poetry recitations. Sounds like fun actually. When class finished I bought some groceries and returned to my dorm for some much anticipated dinner. Fried eggs, bell pepper, carrots, and oat meal make for a very delicious but very college dinner. Least I'm digesting plenty of nutrients. I also had some hot chocolate and  pudding for dessert; it was an odd but fantastic combo. Right after I finished the last scoop of pudding, my doorbell rang. I was greeted by two Chinese international student who each had a plate of food in their hands. The girl who was closest to me explained that she was my across the hall neighbor and that she had made me some Chinese dinner. Awe, that's so sweet. She then mentioned that, I think tomorrow, she was going to be hosting a dinner party with lots of food. Sounds fantastic. I thanked her and told her that I was definitely game for the party. What a sweetheart. Sucks that I couldn't finish the meal, I had just eaten after all, but was able to enjoy the amount noodles and stew that filled the remaining corners of my stomach. I then talked to my father on the phone. He told me that I should cut back on the partying, aka I should stop drinking so much. That actually is a good idea, drunk behavior isn't classy, hope that I follow it. I told him that I missed maple syrup. The French claim that the syrup they have is delicious. Uh no, it's crap. Then again so is American syrup. I am a snob when it comes to maple syrup, typical Canadian attitude. Vermont syrup isn't bad, but anything that is made from corn syrup needs to be destroyed. As I child I liked Mrs. Butterworth's, but then again at that time I liked ketchup on my hot dogs too. No, real viscous maple syrup is something that Europe does not have. Sucks too, goes great on pancakes and in oatmeal. My dad wished me luck and told me, "I love you sweetie," and that he missed me. For being 6'2" my dad can be a real softy during certain moments. I'll do my best here and it was a good Monday.

October 14th

Bring on the relaxation, I am ready. Sunday was full of computer lounging and homework, a very humble day really. I was able to sleep in, which I adore, and took my time seizing the day. I had some Subway for lunch with my friends, we felt lazy about cooking, and then surfed the internet for a few hours. I also read more lines/lyrics of Lancelot the Knight of the Cart. It is a good read, old school but rockin'. Something strange that I did was download some information about James McCarthy. It's time I confess; back in 1952 I was one among the many performers who were placed on the Hollywood blacklist. They thought I was communist for wearing the color red too frequently. Not my fault that the Blackhawks' uniform is red! Ok in reality I am brushing up on my twentieth century American History. My favorite period is the industrial era, about 1893-1912, when everything was gritty and covered in grease. For study purposes I am collecting articles on the various events of the 20th century. I'm trying to stay away from the bulk of the world wars, due to the fact that they weren't purely domestic. The Great Depression, Industrial Era, McCarthyism, Baby Boom, Nuclear Family, and the Cold War are some of the topics that I will be revisiting. Yeah, I'm a nerd at times. After time was efficiently spent at Les Docks, Kate, Paula, and I returned to the dorm. I made some hot tea/coffee and we all pow-wowed in my room for some Single Life episodes. It is a guilty pleasure of mine, introduced to me by Mr. Blei my old economics teacher, that I enjoy from time to time. I have the entire first season on my computer. For those of you who don't know what The Simple Life is, well, you're about to find out. The Simple Life was a reality television show that starred Paris Hilton and Nicole Richie. It captured their adventure of living on a farm in Altus Arkansas for thirty days. It is complete shallow trash, but hilarious. Kate and Paula loved it. What a world where Anglos watch the Simple Life on a laptop in Normandy France.

October 13th

Party party parTAY! The week is over, it is Saturday, thus time to party international style. Tonight is the Spanish themed party that is being held at the docks dormitory. This dorm isn't really a dorm, it's not an apartment complex either. It is several shipping crates that have been rigged in such a way that they are now used as living quarters. It looks like someone took a freight train and put its various cars into a drying rack. They're cool living quarters, but a bit narrow for my tastes. Anyhow, Kate and I bought proper ingredients for making delicious girly mixed drinks. The party, like any normal college one, was bring your own booze so we thought that we'd treat ourselves while controlling how much we were drinking. Parties are better spent buzzed rather than drunk, memories tend to be less fuzzy. Of course when we left it was raining, so typical. Something that was different though, our Irish friend Fergus was joining us. Fergus is a loner kind of guy, not extremely social, but this time he decided that he wanted to join the other international students. The group of us, Paula, Kate, Valerie, Fergus, and me, hopped from awning to awning in an effort to avoid the rain. When we finally arrived at the docks dorm the rain decided to stop. Thank you weather for being so considerate. The party itself was very impressive. All of the international students were there which made it that much more fun. Luckily the party took place in the stair well/ one of the rooms meaning we were under shelter. This was good since it started to rain again. I had fun switching between French and English with the various students. Cristiana, my Italian friend, took a bunch of pictures as usual. I posed with Demetrius while he was wearing the hipster hat for two reasons; first I wanted a picture of myself, and two he looks hilarious as a hipster. There was dancing and music, youtube music. This dorm has internet, jealousy, so the laptop that was being used as the turntable had access to youtube. Paula and I decided to introduce/usurp all the other students to the indie band Fun. We played their most famous hit, We are Young, since many of the other students had never heard it before. Not a surprise. If France is playing pop music from my high school years then I can't expect Romania or Latvia to know the latest top 100 hits list. We stayed at the party for a while, three hours I think, before heading out. Unfortunately for me, fortunately for the humor of everyone else, my friend Olivia was riding a bike. She asked me if I wanted to ride it, of course I said yes. Now Olivia is about 5'7", I'm 5'3". To cut to the chase, I fell off the bike instantly since I couldn't reach the pedals. I was laughing about it, good thing too because all my friends were laughing at me. Kate tried to hold the bike so that I could try to ride it, but as previously stated my feet didn't touch the pedals. The bike was a no-go. We returned home safely after that embarrassing moment. I'm trying to remind myself that humility is part of life. It's hard when Paula keeps saying, "remember that one time you tried to ride a bike and fell on your ass." It’s good to have friends.

P.S. I have been informed by my father that I need to, “stop going to so many European parties.” I realize that I have spent many week-ends out since I have arrived in France, almost of all of them in fact. For my best interest I am going to slow down, after all I am here to learn French not to socialize at parties. This doesn't mean I won’t go to any more parties, it just means that I will be more selective. Peace out.

October 12th

At 9:38 am I was sitting in the cafe of the international building, on a Friday. I decided, on Wednesday I think, that I needed to take another class. My schedule in retrospect to everyone else's is pretty light. However, to my defense, my three courses are much longer sessions than the other students. This is what happens when you are a literature major, you have three hour long classes. So, although I only have three classes, they are all long and worth about 7 Euro credits each, or 3 semester hours. Why take another class then? I figured that I should be more productive. Ok the truth is I just wanted to take a fun class. What is the class? That's the ultimate question. It is American History that is taught in slow English to French students. Ah how I love life. I've taken American history many times in the past, doesn't mean I know any dates, and have more or less enjoyed it. Actually, the last American history class that I've taken was by far my favorite, American Culture. So it's a subject that I know rather well. Oh, something that Europeans do, more so say, which annoys me is the statement, "one could learn all of America's history in an afternoon." Thanks jackasses. I know that our country is young in comparison, but no need for the lip. First fact in American history, our founders left Europe and stayed away. First lesson in American history, we did it for many reasons but a big one was the whole Euro government setup. I must say, I'm not a big fan of having the heirs of generations of incest rule my country either. Aight, I'm done with the historical sarcasm and insults. That was my intolerance of the day. Moving on, class started at ten, but I had no idea where it was. Kate is also in the class and had agreed to meet me in cafe beforehand so that we could go to the lecture together. Yay I have friends! Turns out she forgot where the room was. Meh, I still have friends! We followed some French kids that she recognized to class and sat down in the middle of the room. The last lecture had been on George Washington, Kate told me this, so I was telling Kate about an original Washington monument that had caused some controversy. Back in the day this French artist created a statue of Washington in Roman toga attire; aka he had no shirt on. Such an awkward image for Americans, our founding father bare-chested. Shiver. While we were having this discussion Kate suddenly said, "oh hello." I was a bit confused to say the least, until I heard the chair next to me move. Hi Toine. Ah fantastic, we're in the same history class. I shouldn't have been surprised, the kid is a history major, but it was just unexpected that he sat by me. I have friends? Class started and was ridiculously easy. I have two huge advantages over the French students; one  I speak English fluently, and two I'm American. Lecture was actually very amusing, not just from the teacher's pronunciation, since the topic was about various depictions of Washington, one of which was the statue of toga Washington. The teacher asked what was off or odd about the statue. Of course none of the French students responded. Instead the teacher heard Kate somewhat whisper, "he's naked" to me to which I snickered. The teacher asked if someone had say something. Crap, sucks to be you Kate. Everyone looked at us too. Ah those troublesome Anglos. Kate then, with blushing cheeks, said, "well he is disrobed." The teacher shook her head, "no I heard naked." I love it when these moments don't happen to me. Oh Kate, we're still friends. Class continued without any more awkward answers. I hope that none of the French students try to bum notes off me, that would unpleasant. To my knowledge, the only French student who knows that I'm American in that class is Toine. Believe it or not the French have difficulty pinning down my accent, even when I'm speaking English. Works for me, cause this American doesn't like to share outside of her social circle. Somehow, I have friends.

October 11th

The stars aligned today against my favor. They decided that I needed to miss my doctor's appointment. For those of you with sensitive ears, or in this case eyes, I am sorry for what I am about to say/type. Fuck me! Out of all the nights to run updates it had to be last night. Normally it doesn't matter, but last night it did. My computer Rikki updates itself at three in the morning every so often. The problem with this is that it resets the computer aka logs me out of my session aka the alarm program is not running aka Mary sleeps through her appointment aka fuck my life. In the States, oh well, big deal, you can do it tomorrow. In France, uh oh you're in trouble. This appointment was planned long in advanced since you are one of many students that must acquire the French medical insurance. Shame on you for not being a part of the European Union. I ended up waking at 9:40 am, freaking out, and basically running to the medical center. It normally takes me about forty minutes to an hour to walk there, I arrived in thirty minutes. I explained my situation to the receptionists who explained to me that the situation was not good. No crap. They found an opening the following Friday, the 19th, at 9:30 am and reserved the appointment for me. Then something unexpected happened; they asked if I had eaten breakfast. I told them no, to which they asked if I preferred coffee or hot chocolate. I told them hot chocolate. They then lead me to a small dining room and, with smiles, gave me a small breakfast with a cup of hot cocoa. It was kind, very kind. I relaxed, after thanking them, and enjoyed what had been given to me. I was still miffed that I had missed my appointment, but the hot chocolate helped. After I was finished, I left for class for which I arrived perfectly on time. Funny thing though, my teacher never arrived. Apparently she had canceled class. Some French girls informed Elaina, a Latvian exchange student, and me that we could leave. The two of us figured this due to the fact that the rest of the students were going. I texted Paula, who is always thirty minutes late to this lecture due to her Economics class, asking if she wanted to go shopping with me since class was canceled. And I quote, "uh of course!". I just needed to go out, clear my head of the morning chaos, and shopping is always a good fix. We went to the mall, had some rockin' salads for lunch, and browsed the Monoprix supermarket. I ended up buying some nail polish and snacks. I, like every American, has needs, especially for Goldfish crackers and Cookie Crisp cereal. Paula and I then returned to the library, where the internet was still down, before going to our five thirty French language class. This time I didn't make a fool of myself in class, but something awkward did happen. Now I expected this situation to happen between a French student and me, not professor Ardouin. While we were doing a verb exercise, M. Ardouin said what sounded like, "Mary, I am outraged," to me. Ok? What had I done this time? I asked him why he was mad at me, to which he replied with a confused frown. He then pointed to my file binder, more specifically a sticker that decorates the outside of it. The sticker says, "I'm average," with a blue square underneath. It's a souvenir sticker that I had bought at Big Sky Montana during my snowboarding trip last winter. The joke is relating the phrase, "I'm average", which refers to the level of difficulty of scoring with someone, to the blue square. If you ski then you will understand the blue square. If not, keep reading. At ski resorts they use symbols to define the levels of the slopes; they go, in order of easiest to hardest, as follows, green circle, blue square, black diamond, and double black diamond. This is to make it more simple for people to identify which slope they should do. So the joke, which I've now killed by explaining it this way, is that I'm average to score with; reinforced by the image of the blue square. I had the privilege to explain this to my professor, joy. I did a subpar explanation, I stopped at the part about what being average meant, and I believe that professor Ardouin understood. I finished my explanation by saying, "they had I'm easy, but I tend to ride average slopes." Ah my blue humor, just a lovely detail of my personality. I do think that was a good closer though. Now he knows. The more you know (annoying musical flare).

October 10th

No internet, again! I know, first world problem. But seriously library, pull yourself together! Gah!!!! Sorry but I am really going to abuse caps lock and the exclamation point, right, wait, right now. 

DAMNIT!!!!!!!!! THIS WIFI WILL NOT WORK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I"M GOING TO MURDER THE IDIOT WHO CAME UP WITH THE IDEA THAT USING A WEBSITE AS AN ACCESS POINT FOR A WIFI NETWORK!!!!!!!! APARTMENTS NEAR CAMPUS, I REMEMBER THAT YOU DID THE SAME THING WHICH CAUSED ME TO BUY A ROUTER AND INTERNET IN ORDER TO ACCESS AN INTERNET CONNECTION THAT ACTUALLY CONNECTS!!!!!! WHO WOULD'VE THOUGHT?!!!!! GOD EVEN IOWA'S WIFI KICKS THE CRAP OUTTA THIS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THEY DID THE NORMAL THING AND JUST HAD A NETWORK KEY INSTEAD OF THIS WEBSITE BULLSHIT!!!!!!! ahem, GAH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 

Ok I'm done. Just needed to remove that from my anger. Worked rather well, I feel better now. Class was medieval history today, which was very very dry today. Our teacher was rhetorically analyzing, yup it's back to haunt me, an article that we read pargraph by paragraph. There were seventeen paragraphs in total, and just for the record they weren't slim either. I needed someone to blow my brains out, two hours of that was torture. Finally at the end she discussed some history, it suits her way more than rhetoric, so the class was only 93% of a bust. After class, and after my whole library angst rant, Paula and I played some M.A.S.H. Oh the junior high and early high school memories of this game. It always ends badly for me though, I'm either married to the shmuck of the four possibilities or I have a horrible job and living arrangements. For once I'd like the game to work in my favor. Meh, it's still fun to play. Back at the dorm we taught Kate how to play and now she's addicted. Such is life when you mix cultures. Time for bed, I have an early start tomorrow. Before class I have yet another, and finally an actual, doctor's appointment. This one is the all important check-up, the sheet claims that they all are imperative, at happens at 9:00 am of course. Well, my clothes are laid out, my books are in bag, and my computer has the alarm clock program already. Let's have some sleep.

October 9th

Today's the day, the day I start tutoring little children in English! But first I had class, bleh. Comparative literature isn't that bad, except that I have to read three books at once, super. Fortunately two of them are originally in English, Pride and Prejudice and Jane Eyre, the other, Les Lettres de Losuanne, is in simple enough French that I understand it pretty well. My teacher Mme Colin told me that I can read the books in English since it will obviously help my comprehension and make it easier to write my essays. Thus I downloaded the two English books onto my computer for free, ah I love you internet. In another class I am also reading the book in English, Lancelot the Knight of the cart, simply because I don't know old French, I don't even know old English, and the modern French translation is a little funky. Again the internet is a fantastic thing with free translations that can be easily copied and pasted in Word docs or saved as Pdf files. Thank you technology. After class, and a few useless hours trying to use the non-working library internet, I left for my teaching session. I was prepared to be lost, I always become lost, since I had not only step-by-step instructions written out, but also a drawn highlighter route on one of my Le Havre maps. I also had an umbrella, it is a necessity in a town that rains basically every day. Through the use of my map, mostly my map, and my gut intuition I found the house perfectly on time. The kids were adorable, well the little ones anyways. I'm not old enough to call a fifteen year old adorable, they're just teens to me. Anyhow the two little boys, Louis and Alexis, were like little dolls. Especially Alexis. He's a blond curly haired five year old who not only looks like the Little Prince, but is also shy. So cute! My job this time was to talk with Louis in English until his older sister Anne returned from school. Louis's English is pretty good considering he's only twelve. Anne's is somewhat subpar, I'm not sure why. When she arrived I helped her with understanding her homework, which happened to be all about regrets. She had to formulate sentences using "I wish I had" or "you shouldn't have", lovely hindsight conditionals. I do feel for the French in the whole expressing a "wish or desire" section. After all, they just use their subjunctive tense whereas in English, we tend to use the conditional since the subjunctive is no more! That has to be a pain, but I don't feel that bad for them. They stuck us Anglo-Saxons with gender articles, we gave them "the", "a/an", and "some". Anyways Anne did fine on her homework, but her pronunciation needs definite improving. It was cool being there. The mother Mme Racadot only spoke to me in French, as directed by Michel Hauchecorne. Thanks Mama Duck*. It is good for me though; I learned some new words, even an idiomatic phrase, and had some practice speaking French with native speakers. The best part about kids is that they will correct you and won't be awkward about it. Damn, I should've volunteered at a grade school or something as a teacher assistant or recess manager. Sadly the lessons are only for an hour, Alexis was really sad that I had to leave, but I will be back again the same time next week. I left, in the pouring rain of ropes** no less, and spoke with mother on the phone while on the way to the bus stop. After I made it home, dry I might add, I called my brother Pete for a good old fashioned Scale sibling chat. I'm not sure what that is exactly, but it usually includes video game discussion. It was a good day spent under the Le Havre rain.

*In the beginning, during the intensive courses, Kate and I would refer to M. Hauchecorne as "Mama Duck" since he would have to constantly stop and wait for us, the international students, to catch up with him whenever we were going anywhere as a group. Just like a mother duck does her oblivious ducklings.

**This is a pun, a poor one, that involves a French idiomatic expression. In English we say, "it's raining cats and dogs." In French they say,"il pleut des cords," which literally means "it's raining ropes." Great pun huh?

October 8th

Just another Manic Monday. Ok I'll stop with the Bangles lyrics. Monday, it was Monday. I woke up for lunch, as you recall I hate mornings, and idled away my time in the library. I had class at 5:30pm with M. Martel which, as it normally is, was very pleasant and funny. I learned a very useful phrase, Ça craint! It means, this sucks! The best part of the phrase was when M. Martel was trying to say it in English. It came out more as "zhis souks" which made Paula and me laugh. I know that to the French I sound "cute" and "adorable" when I speak their language, but they just sound silly when they try English. Least American English. I have know some French who picked up British accents, now the Brits claim otherwise, that sound rather accurate. However, the American accent is simply impossible for them unless they have an ear for mimicking phonetics, which less than 1% them possess. Don't have me wrong, M. Martel is awesome, it's just funny when he speaks English. 

October 7th

Sunday funday! Actually that phrase holds true, good job Bangles. However, it started very strangely. I woke up late, as usual on a Sunday, and took my sweet time lounging about with the remaining sliver of morning. Then around noon someone rang my doorbell. I knew that it had to be one of two people, Paula or Kate. This time it was Paula and she seemed excited about something. She asked me what I was doing in the next thirty minutes. I replied that I was probably going to Les Docks for some shopping. She then did her famous "omg" arm motion, it always look likes she placing her hands on an invisible table that is as high as her sternum, and asked if I wanted to go to Paris. My jaw dropped and my famous "huh?" expression appeared on my face. I asked if she was serious, she said that she was. Oh wow. She then went on to say that she just wants to go and walk around Paris and that no one else wanted to go. Paula then realized that I was staring at her as if she was glowing green and had plasma spilling out from her ears. I was then asked, "am I crazy?" I of course replied to Paula, "yes, just a bit." Ultimately I told her no, I was in no shape to spend my afternoon in Paris, especially since I was still in my sleep wear. Paula shrugged and said that she was going anyways, even if it meant alone. Yeah she's crazy, maybe spontaneous is a better word, but logically I didn't see the appeal of going to Paris for only a short afternoon, especially on a Sunday when most things close early. Regardless she left for Paris and I stayed in Le Havre. The strangeness continues. Shortly after, Kate and Valerie asked if I wanted to go to Les Docks with them. I said, "gimme ten and I'll be ready". For only having ten minutes I did pretty well, thank you dry leave-in shampoo. The three of us then proceeded to Les Docks and were pleasantly surprised with what we found. How could I forget that this weekend was when they were doing a fashion show there. It was my first, and possibly my last, fashion show and I must say that I enjoyed it. OK what I enjoyed was the male models and a few of the clothes. Kate and I both found ourselves fascinated with two of the models, especially when they wore leather jackets and denim jeans. After that lovely display of human beauty ended, we hit up Subway and then made our way to the New Yorker. Well Valerie and I made our way there, Kate wanted to fall back and use the internet for a lil while. That was cool, I tend to shop better with as little people as possible, I'm strange. Anyhow Valerie picked up a scarf and then went home to rest, but I stayed in the New Yorker. I felt happy to just browse some clothes, not things for costumes, just things to wear. It turned out rather well too. I nabbed some sweaters and two gaudy shirts. It has been a secret mission, now not so secret, to be mistake for a French girl. See I stand out like a sore thumb due to three things, two if I'm not talking; my blue freshman backpack and my clothing. France isn't into flare jeans, on anyone, converses, on girls, and any logo shirts that don't sport either Union Jack or Stars and Stripes. So, at the New Yorker I picked up two very important shirts. One is a loose blue top of the Union Jack and the other a red shirt with some Stars and Stripes. Oddly enough my most French looking article of clothing that I own has my home country's flag on it. If you ever desire to look French, just dress like it's the Fourth. I then returned to Kate with my spoils, the gaudy shirts she laughed at, and then we proceeded to H and M for further shopping. I grabbed a few things there too, even a t-shirt dress and some socks, before we sat down for a delicious pizza dinner. Afterwards we walked to another dorm for a meeting about Fall break. Fortunately many people were there; unfortunately nothing major was decided except that we all will be taking different trips. Kate and I, most likely with Paula and Valerie, are going to Nice for a few days as well as a night or two in Paris. We're going to sketch out some details later this week, probably next weekend, and make the accommodation reservations. Ah today really was a funday, odd at parts but definitely fun.

October 6th

 Normandy, I love your random weather. I actually do, that sentence was only 30% sarcastic rather than the normal 75%. However, it does suck when it rains while traveling. Today was the trip to the small town of Honfleur. A group of us had decided that we should go for two reasons; tour the lovely town and attend the shrimp festival. I was in it for the tour as well as the shrimp; personally shrimp is my least favorite shellfish. Had it been a lobster festival, I would have camped on location. Anyways we had to be at the train station at 8:30 am to catch the 8:45 am bus. The bare fare was six euros for a two-way ticket, which is pretty cheap for France. The unfortunate thing was, it was raining, a lot. The group as a whole was about ten people, which for touring a small city is too many. Thus we split into a group of four and a group of six; the group of four consisted on Kate, Paula, Valerie, and me. We walked around, through the rain, admiring the shops and quaint architecture. Even through the rain everything was beautiful. I had a pain au chocolat for lunch, but with almonds in it. Oh man it was like a mini coffee cake of deliciousness. After we had our pain au chocolat break we went into a chocolate store! I actually didn't buy anything there, my mother would have bought the whole store, but it was still fun seeing all the slabs of chocolate. I debated on buying some white chocolate with hazelnuts in it, but the responsible voice that rarely speaks up reminded me that the pain au chocolat was enough sweetness for today. However I did enjoy a sample and Paula bought some chocolate covered marshmallow logs which she shared. Those were awesome, France can do marshmallows very well. After that we looked around the Saturday market stalls. I grabbed a stripped scarf, good for winter, and Paula nabbed a stunning dress. At about this time, three hours into the trip, we were tired. It was raining which didn't help and the shrimp festival, well it was different than rib fest. I wasn't too keen on eating shrimp that were still alive, least Naperville kills the pigs before trying to sell them to you. So French to take something like a food festival and turn it into something of a slaughter auction. Thus no shrimp, darn. We ended the trip by relaxing in a small cafe off the docks, which even under the rain was lovely. The four of us then trooped back to the bus, tickets in hand, and returned to our grey-skied Le Havre. Once home we all became lazy pigs in blankets, hey we were cold. Oh well, Honfleur may have been drenched but it was still quaint and pretty, plus a sailing scarf to boot.

October 5th

I felt so much better today. First off I ate a light lunch, literally just some bread, an orange, and some carrots, and drank plenty of water. Like I said earlier I know how to nurse myself and most of the time I know how to take care of myself. I also received my care package from my mother which happened to include a winter coat, some new boats, uncle bub’s barbecue sauce, and even some shamwows. I love my mother for sending it because it was just what I needed. Well, against my better judgment, I did go to another party. Honestly it was a tough choice. I didn't want to drink, understandably, but I did want to spend time with the other international students. Paula convinced me to go when she surprised me with a thoughtful gift, Jagermeister! She had bought some at the mall, apparently there is a liquor store there, and couldn't wait to give it to me. That sold me, the gesture of Jager was too kind to refuse. The party itself was rather boring, no one knew what to do. There was some music on, but none of the songs were familiar, not even to Paula. We all decided after an hour of awkward socializing to just go to a local club, Coyote. Funny thing about Coyote, it's mascot is Wiley Coyote from the old Looney Toons show. It is also a small club that plays popular music from ten years ago mixed with three French songs that screens modern music videos and spews fog into the dance floor. What a classy time. We did have fun, everyone seemed to enjoy themselves. Kate skipped out, she was pretty tired, but Paula and I danced for hours with our friends. The two of us left around 2 am since we had to be up early on Saturday. What? Why would we have to be awake before eight o'clock on a lazy Saturday? One word, Honfleur.

October 4th

Thirsty Thursday, the American day of happy hour and the French day of clubbing. For me it was a mixed bag and a long night. Thursdays generally aren't bad days; I have class at 11:30 and then I'm done for the day. The only thing that sucks about Thursday is lunch. The cafeteria opens at 11:30 am and closes at 1:30 pm. So when you are me, a person who has a class that ends at 1:00pm, you have limited time to eat lunch. Today was horrible. By the time I reached the cafeteria almost all the food was gone. The only "fresh" station left was the burger area. This was mistake number two, mistake number one was eating Mickey D's last night. I tend to choose fresh food over stale mystery meat thus I had chicken and fries for lunch. After lunch Paula and I went on a mis-adventure. We were trying to find a liquor store since the super market didn't sell the most delicious alcohol known to man, Jagermeister. According to Paula's I-phone, or google maps, there was a liquor store by the loading docks of the St. Nicolas quarter. There was just one problem, it was a half an hour walk away. That didn't stop us. What did stop us was not finding it. What a pleasant moment that was. In reality we found it, sort of. There was what seemed to be a warehouse with the same name as the liquor company, but it didn't look like a store and the google map said that it wasn't it. We followed the map, under my persistence, which turned out to be a dance hall. Paula was not pleased with me. We decided to just go back to St. Nicolas for two reasons; first we had class in an hour and a half, and she needed to pick up a package from the post office. So no liquor store. We made it to the post office in plenty of time, Paula was worried that it would close, and made it to class as well. On the way home we swung by the market place where I bought some Malibu coconut rum. It's no Jagermeister, but it is rather delicious when mixed with some Coke. My third mistake was dinner. Paula told me a few days ago that she and Kate had found an old American style fifty's diner near St. Nicolas. What intrigued me was the fact that they sold milkshakes; steak n' shake I will always crave your banana chocolate shake. I had agreed that we would eat there for dinner on the night of the American party at club Forty One. That was mistake number three. My meal consisted of a banana rich chocolate shake with a barbecue cheddar bacon (ham) burger and fries. It was delicious. I scarfed it down, mistake number four, in about fifteen minutes. A few hours later I was dressed and ready for the American party with two waters bottles of a Malibu cola mixture. Ah Malibu, yummy but notoriously deadly. Mistake number five. My last mistake was going to the club because I ended up on my knees in the forty one bathroom. Damn I hate myself sometimes. I do listen to my body most of the time, but sometimes I just say screw it. That's when I up losing both food and stomach fluids for most of the night, sigh. I went home after that. I took care of myself most of the night, I'm pretty experienced in that line of work, and told myself once again to watch my diet. Ah well, I was bound to be sick in France sometime, guess it happened sooner rather than later. 

P.S. I am perfectly aware that I posted this on the internet for all to see. My reasoning, memories are memories both good and bad.

October 3rd

Ah Wednesday, you made a fool of me. Some background information, on Wednesday I normally have my medieval history discussion from 3-5 pm. Last week Paula and I did not have class since the schedule stated that there was no discussion during the third week. So today we went to discussion only to realize that we were the only ones there and that our teacher was packing her briefcase. Uh oh. It turns out that we missed a minor detail; this class started a week later than normal classes. Oh crap. So technically this was the third week and last week was the second week. Damn we're stupid. In the scheme of things it's not that big of deal, but I feel bad for worrying our teacher. She was afraid that Paula and I had dropped the class since we didn't show last week. No, we're just the idiots who read the schedule wrong. Nothing to make you feel out of place like screwing up your agenda. Ah well it happens. The rest of the day was spent at, you guessed it, the library! Although, none of you should blame me; it was pouring buckets outside and I was in need of soothing my mind with various news reports from The Onion. Paula decided to go to the dorm to change her shoes or something. She and I were going to go to the mall after, not Les Docks, in order to grab some craft supplies, specifically ribbons. Tomorrow is an American themed party, again I know, at the local club Forty One, the same club in which Kate had her wallet stolen. Paula wanted to make some hair ribbons for her "America" outfit and I just wanted to go to the mall. So when she returned we went. There wasn't much there, I didn't buy anything, and we ended up having some Mickey D's for dinner. I'm not sure, but the French Mickey D's seems to be made of real food, or at least free of high fructose corn syrup. Anyhow I can eat it, sort of. Not often, but I can have the fast food once in a while without it crippling me. However, the entire week I hadn't had the best diet, junk food was littered throughout my meals. I really wish I had eaten healthier; if I had maybe tomorrow's incident wouldn't have happened. Today was fine, but tomorrow night, well you'll see.

October 2nd

Hooray for the common cold, you made me miss class. Yes it's true, I missed my French comparative literature lecture and discussion. I was going to go, but the fact that I couldn't walk a straight line due to dizzying vertigo kept me at home. I did eventually leave my dorm, around 11:30, after some rest riddled with fever dreams. I had to be at the foreign students office at noon to meet with a colleague of M. Hauchecorne. Last week I received an e-mail from him with the offer of being an English tutor for two French kids. The boy, a 12 year old middle schooler, needed someone to practice conversational English while the girl, a 15 year old, simply needed tutoring. I said sure, and a hop-skip-n-jump after numerous e-mails, I met the mother of the kids. She was rather surprised at my appearance, red hoodie with a black hat and white sox shirt, but told me the details of the job and gave me the date for the first lesson. I start next Tuesday at 5:30 pm and am excited. This is a fantastic cultural experience for me; it gives me a chance to not only have some more roots in France but also the possibility of learning some conversational French. After the meeting I had some lunch, a light meal, and then went to the bookstore with Kate. Most people would have gone home, but according to Merlin the wizard in the classic Disney film "The Sword in the Stone", sunshine and fresh air help to cure a cold.  Since cartoons are always right, more so I need to pick up some books, I tagged along. We did initially try to go to the bank, but LCL is apparently closed between noon and 2 pm; bit long for a lunch break if you ask me. After purchasing some books I went to the library; buildings that house books are good for colds. I really just needed to work on my homework for Wednesday, and since the library has internet unlike my dorm I stayed there for a little while. One hour later I left the library for my dorm. The instant I made home safe and sick, I went to bed. Interesting day.

October 1st

Today is when Karma struck, damnit. The morning was already scheduled to suck since it both started ridiculously early and occurred at the doctor's office. Why oh why would anyone think it is a good idea to give me, remember exorcist, an 8:30 am appointment at an office that is an hour walk from my dorm? It was a mistake that they regretted. Once I was there I was asked about five times if I had eaten anything that morning. No I haven't because you told me last time that when you have to take blood tests I can't eat anything six hours prior to the appointment. Right, but are you sure that you haven't eaten? They just wanted me to kill them. I also had been told weeks in advance not to drink anything before the appointment as well. That was a load of croque. The first thing they asked me, apart from whether or not I had had breakfast, was to give them a urine sample. With what? You dolts told me not to drink anything either! I was directed to a fountain where I downed my weight in water. A nurse then took my blood, yippee. After that I waited about ten minutes before providing the urine sample. Unlike the states, the French prefer you to fill small test-tubes rather than a plastic cup. Great, time to play alchemist with my own fluids. I forked the tub of pee over and left. I wondered to the library, to kill time before lunch, and was once again approached by the inconvenient French boy. Why does he always show up when I want to be left alone? I'm pretty sure that frowning at a computer screen with a pen in your mouth, habit of mine, doesn't say "hey let's talk". So I used a strong skill of mine, I ignored him. Ok I wasn't that rude, I did say bonjour, and performed the overly personal cheek-to-cheek greeting, but after he sat down I gave him the cold shoulder. Call me cruel but I am human, if I'm working on something just leave me be. That's right, I was actually doing something productive. I was working on a chapter of a story that I've been creating bit by bit over the years. When I'm in the zone, I not only will ignore someone, I just won't care. After a few hours of typing and pen chewing I abandoned the library and Toine for lunch. My meal was terrible. I had foolishly grabbed a pizza lunch that was not only bizarre, it wasn't even edible. Let's see what would make a good pizza. Oh I know, cabbage and lamb with creme sauce. Just sounds divine. Kill me, kill me, please kill me. I did eat my sides, some salad and a few rolls, but it was not enough to satisfy my hunger. I also had started to feel a bit odd, slightly dizzy. That's when karma bit me, and it bit hard. At three thirty I had my FLE civilization class with M. Martel. On most days this would have been fine, I tend to enjoy that class. But today, I was groggy, starving, and had to fight to keep awake. Once it was over, and I was back in the dorm, I cooked a giant meal for myself, but was sniffling the whole time. I really should've taken that hand sanitizer at Subway, or at least have knocked on wood.

September 30th

Sunday funday, well more like chillday. It was the perfect day to do laundry, much needed loads of laundry. The trio of Anglo-Saxons filled their bags and marched to the bigger, and better, laundry mat near their LCL bank. It was expensive, about eight bucks per load, but actually more convenient than the other laundry mat. Kate and I sat on a table and chatted while Paula talked to her father. After the laundry was finished we returned to the dorm and, shockingly, went to Les Docks. If you haven't noticed reader, Les Docks and the university library is where we hang out; we're such cool cats. The only chore that we didn't do was go the university bookstore, mostly since it is off campus and a pain to go to, but it could definitely wait. For dinner we had some Subway, which is way subpar compared to the States version, and there I did something stupid. Kate offered me some hand sanitizer before we ate which I, the hyperclean American, would normally have taken. No, tonight my stomach was growling and the sandwich was sitting before meeting waiting to be devoured. I told Kate that I would be fine since I had washed my hands about thirty minutes before in the restrooms. I also added, "and if I get sick it's my own fault." Idiot, idiot, idiot. Karma has a charming way of biting me. That night I felt fine, a little sleepy, but everything was ok at the moment. Seriously karma, go away!

September 29th

Ow, massive hangover. Most of today was spent at the Les Docks numbing my head with 311 and Fun. Though just my luck, a French boy Antoine, whom I met earlier, saw me sitting and decided to stop and chat with me. Oh damnit. When my head is pounding and my entire energy level has crashed, it is wise to not speak to me at all, especially not in French. In order to explain my situation I simply searched "hung over" on word reference. He understood the message and proceeded to laugh at me while saying, "it your fault." Fortunately Paula and Kate showed up and Toine took his leave. I realize that he was just trying to make conversation, but when someone is lounging in chair with a hand over their eyes and headphones in their ears, it's a safe bet that they want to be left alone. No matter, right after Kate, Paula, and I grabbed a bite to eat and then completed some grocery shopping. We decided that since none of us were feeling especially lively that we would stay in and watch a movie. We all slunked to the dorm, our various snack foods in hand, and collapsed in Paula's room. The movie was one which we had all seen; Bridesmaids. I truly love that film ever since I first saw it with my brother. Kate, Paula, and I kept quoting it, even while we were watching, and would laugh each time. A good night spent in my happy hung over opinion.

September 28th

Friday, YES! This week could not have ended sooner. Fortunately I have only one class on Friday which is also relatively familiar. Remember those stories about King Arthur? Well apparently that's what all medieval literature is, at least according to my teacher. We're reading the tale of Lancelot, which I've read twice before, so notes are very simple. I actually felt fine after class was let out, no bullet to the brain. I think that my comprehension is improving, which would be nice, but my speaking is still lacking in skill. Hopefully I'll be able to practice more conversational French soon, I am slowly but surely socializing with French students. But honest, it's not 100% my fault, 43% of the problem lies with French college students. They are just, well, often non-approachable. This has nothing to do with their attitudes, they seem to enjoy Anglo-Saxon foreigners, but instead has to do with their hygiene. Sorry France, but soap was invented a long time ago it's time you used it, same with toothpaste. I have never seen so many pairs of yellow teeth in my life, and I worked at a gas station that had plenty of chew customers. These kids just don't care. I am aware that Americans tend to be "hyperclean" but come on! Just brush twice a day with some crest, it will make a serious difference. I have found a few French students that smell pleasant and have decent teeth on campus, they are my target peer group. I have started to chat with a few of them, but progress is very slow right now. Anyhow, after class I called my family and talked to them for about forty minutes. It was relaxing for my mind to hear my accent used flawlessly. Though Paula is American, she comes from a private catholic school in Kanas City; we sound very different. My accent is more difficult for the French to understand due to my laid back form of slang. After all I slur, mumble, and use urban jargon all the time. It shocks the other students when I use my "speech/interview" voice for then my English is acute, absent of contractions, and formal. Thus speaking with family, who can understand my verbal style, was like a shot of morphine. Afterwards my friends and I went out for Guinness day. Technically it was yesterday, but we decided it would be better to celebrate it on a Friday rather than a Thursday. My Irish friend Fergus joined us this time, he tends to be a loner, which was funny since we went to an imitation Irish pub. He actually walked away with two glasses of Guinness, Paula and I kept the glasses, on our way to a dorm party. There everyone had fun switching between French and English while clinking drinks. Funny enough I was mistaken for a Romanian. A French boy asked Paula and me what we were doing after the party. I told him that we were staying in because we were tired. He then asked what nationality I was to which I replied "je suis americaine." He laughed and said that I couldn't be since I had a Romanian accent. I personally didn't take too kindly to that comment and he received a Chicago accented phrase that went along the lines of, "I'm fucking Chicagoan." The look on the boy's face was priceless. Soon after we all crashed in our beds happy that no purses were stolen and that everything had turned out right.

September 27th

Well it was an early start to a better day, not a fantastic day but a better day. I woke up a bit earlier than usual in order to make it to my mandatory doctor's appointment on time and to also swing by the study abroad office for an explanation about the rent notice. Almost too fortunately the rent problem was solved; it actually ticked me off. The main secretary apologized and told me that there was nothing to worry about, the problem had been that they were late on paying it is all. That was it. I was so furious that it had been something that needed no anger, no worry, no reaction even. I said thank you, spoke with Martine for about my classes, and briskly walked to the doctor's office. Of course I became lost on the way. Good thing that my alternant route yielded the same result, I made it there without too much trouble. In fact, I was thirty minutes early for my x-ray. Here's where it went downhill. I walked into the receptionist area, showed them my appointment card, and proceeded to sit down. No, I had to go out to the street to the truck. Huh? Since when do hospitals not have an x-ray area within the building? France, you really need to pull things together. Also telling a girl to go outside and essentially, "get in the truck" is a tad sketchy. Just saying. Well I went out, waited in line, stood in the rain, and then finally entered the small waiting area of the truck only to be greeted with the body odor of French males. Sigh, how is this possible? These boys all dress like flamers from Boystown and yet they don't know what a stick of deodorant is. After waiting for twenty minutes in that lovely aroma I was finally let into one of the small booths. To my surprise I had to take my shirt off, great. I was told later by my family that this is normal for an x-ray procedure. Uh huh sure, let's think about this. I was in a cramped room in a truck that is parked by the side of the road behind a hospital and was told by a sign and a man whom I don't know that I have to disrobe for a perfectly professional procedure. How could I contain my excitement and consent? Now that of course was not the end of it, oh no. I was pressed against a metal wall with no clothes, nadda, on my upper body for about minute while two guys in white coats occasionally glanced over. I was too happy to leave for lunch. After lunch was the typical run down at the library; internet usage. Then I had FLE class, goody gumdrops. Just to set things straight, FLE classes are required courses that study abroad students must take in order to improve their French. My Monday class, with M. Martel, is fine, just fine. But Thursday is a little different. The teacher loves to tease Anglo-Saxons and guess who loves to embarrass themselves when they are nervous? I swear I create more stress on myself than the world does. This week it was not only my pronunciation but my homework assignment as well. I had slightly misunderstood what we were supposed to do. I thought that we were to write a small portfolio about ourselves for the teacher. In reality we were supposed to write a portfolio that described ourselves while our classmates guess who it was. Oh disaster. I even started my little paper with, "je m'appelle". I also wrote about how strange I was, again I do stupid things. Needless to say, class could not have ended faster. Fingers crossed that I keep cool next Thursday.