pour ne pas voir qu'un nouveau jour se lève, elle ferme les yeux et dans ses rêves, elle part

People start blogs for any number of reasons. But they seem to have a genre, a goal, for instance, a study abroad blog, or a book review blog, or political commentary blog. Others have a sort of memoire blog, which is more like a public journal and that makes me squeamish to think about. Or even recipe blogs, I found one of those and boy, do I wish I could cook.

This started out as a study abroad blog. I’m still abroad, but not studying, and my life, while awesome, is not exactly novel worthy. Yet. So sometimes I have a hard time determining where to go with this. I have all sorts of brillant thoughts during the day (and night) that I think would be perfect to share here, except I never have those thoughts when something is available to jot it down. When I do have time to sit down and write something, I’m usually exhausted or my mind completely blank.

I know a lot of what I put up here is photos, particulary desserts, which are always awesome to look at, though I prefer eating them. And therein lies the problem. I’m trying not to eat so much dessert (one a week, on Saturday). I have a wedding to look nice and not-fat for this summer (yes, that’s a shout-out to my brother and his lovely fiancée who reads this) and I honestly could lose a few pounds. Or at least turn it into muscle instead of flab. So no more desserts regularly. I just get to smell them every time I walk by the bakery, which is every time I leave or return to my apartment. It’s torture.

But in a similar vein, it’s getting to be spring time. Warm and sunny, at least for the past week, and of course that makes me want to look good and dress well and be out and about. So I’ve been doing some shopping, bit by bit, one piece at a time, and stocking up on my make up supply which has dwindled over the years as I haven’t bought much new make up in a long, long time. Probably since I started college.

In the past few weeks, I’ve gone to Paris twice, not with the goal of shopping, though that is a nice benefit, but to take the French language proficiency exam. I just finished it yesterday. We’ll see how well I did in a month. It’s necessary to go to a French university, which is still my plan for next year, and it’s a lifetime certificate to prove you’ve attained a certain level in the language. It looks good on a resumé, in other words.

I’ve also had our winter break at the end of February, and I spent most of the time in Paris. Can you tell I love that city? Even living in it, which let me tell you, that is the way for the honeymoon glow to wear off: live with something. Just because you love a city doesn’t mean you’ll love it after you’ve lived there. For instance, I like La Rochelle, but I don’t love it. I would prefer to visit, and live in Paris. Or some other bigger city where there are more stores and more things to do on a regular basis. La Rochelle is, frankly, quite small after awhile.

Since the end of the break, I’ve been back to work, hectic work, and the scary realization that I have three weeks left. Then spring break and then May, in which I get to travel around France with my parents and friends and then will be forced to leave for the summer. And turn twenty-three, which is no small feat. I’ll be in the Dordogne for that, whereas last year I turned twenty-two in Charlotte and the year before turned twenty-one in Paris. Sort of an interesting way to track your life, looking at where you were on your birthday.

I’ve been following news like the news junkie that I am, and I have a lot of opinions, of course, on political matters. I should express them but . . . I’m too lazy.

I don’t know what I’m going to do this summer, and the thought gives me panic attacks, so I avoid that. I’ve been trying to put money aside but making as little as I do, that’s difficult. I think I’ll have near two thousand euro in my savings before the summer, and I’ll have my apartment’s deposit will be helpful, but still, panicky. I need a temporary job, and I think something to do with tutoring French. Not that most American students are into getting tutored in a foreign language over their summer break.

Did I mention I burned the crap out of my arm a last weekend? Tea kettle plus the little metal thing on a hair tie on my wrist and I got a second degree burn that’s quite lovely adorning my wrist bone.

So that’s pretty much the life update. At the moment, I have nothing really impressive to say. I’m still torn about what direction to go with my life, and as always, I’m totally lost in the middle of nowhere.

i'd rather drive a truck

It’s a busy time of year. I’m working and trying to get over a cold that resulted from my jetlag. I’m back to working on the island for two weeks. I’m extremely stressed out for no particular reason but oh well.

Christmas break feels like a dream. It hardly seems like it happened even though it wasn’t very long ago. The whole trip involved many delays and a lot of snow, which is really not normal. I was late leaving Paris and several days late leaving Charlotte. I had a good time, and enjoyed spending my time doing nothing. Once back in La Rochelle, it was back to the grind almost immediately. I didn’t even get over the jetlag before I was back at work.

A few weeks ago, I went over to a friend’s place and we made home-made quiche Lorraine. Then we ate a galette des rois, or a King Cake, in honor of the epiphany. It’s a French tradition to eat these cakes in January. I’ve had several and they’ve all been delicious. Most of them have almond paste in the middle and they’re made of flaky pastry.

Here’s the quiche:

Beautiful, isn't it? It was delicious, too.

Unfortunately, I don't have any pictures of desserts to show you. Mostly because I forget to take them, and then also because I'm trying not to eat so many. I've been eating a lot of clementines, which are delicious and sweet and cheap. I also bought myself a box of nice chocolates to have one, each day. And at the chocolate shop, I saw Christmas chocolates on sale and couldn't resist:
Isn't he cute? Delicious, too.

I anticipate some travel in my future, though I haven't done much in the past month. I've been saving up so that later this year I could do more. I'm also severely tempted to spend some money on a medieval encyclopedia because I really want it and I feel like I would get enormous use out of it. I'm in the process of writing two-ish novels set in the period, and sometimes I have to look up very obscure things.

I'm beginning the process of applying for grad school in France, which takes several steps and can be quite complicated. I have to translate my diploma, my transcript, and my c.v. into French, which is taking me some time. The first two have to be translated by an official certified translator, which makes things harder (and more annoying). Oh well.

Vacation is coming up, the winter one (not to be confused with the Christmas break) in February. I'll be spending some time in Paris and around the region of La Rochelle some more. And I'll need to study up on my French grammar in the next few months as I have to pass the DELF or the DALF sometime soon. It's the test to assess your language abilities so that the universities can be sure you'll be able to take the courses in French. I will admit that the thought of writing a thesis or dissertation in French is intimidating, not to mention reading a lot of French texts. But it will be worth it, and I am capable of it.

I have a hard time concentrating on any one thing for very long, so we'll see how this all goes.

I have to close with a mention of the most devastating piece of news I've received recently: Keith Olbermann's show is gone. A large part of my morning ritual is watching Countdown on my computer while getting ready in the morning, and now thats . . . it's over. It's so sad. What will I do in the mornings without my daily dose of passionate political commentary? Rachel Maddow is good but she's not the same thing.

fa-la-la-la-la la-la-la-la

Christmas time! My favorite time of the year, even if it is awfully cold. Speaking of awfully cold, we had our first snowfall of the year last week (okay, more like a week and a half ago). Pictures are up on Facebook. Apparently snow is rare here, but we got several inches. It was beautiful and the perfect excuse for sitting inside drinking my Christmas tea (Thé de Noël).

Snow! With medieval towers! And cathedrals! And ocean! What else could I possibly need?



Of ourse, desserts you say. Yes, I would also need desserts. So here we go with the past few weeks of sweets. In order, we have a petite buche de Noël, grand marnier flavored; an apple tart with custard in the middle; a meringue shell dipped in dark chocolate; and a chocolate and orange mousse cup with fruit on top. They were all delicious, in many different ways. Not too sweet, not too much sugar, lots of variety in flavors and textures. It will really be a miracle if I've lost any weight at all being here. I might even lose weight at home for lack of patisseries.




And for lack of good bread. I swear, I've eaten more bread in the past few months than most people eat in a lifetime (and by people, I mean not French people, obviously, because they eat a lot of bread).

I've been exceptionally busy now that I'm back from the Il de Ré schools. My schedule is more predictable and I've been doing extra tutoring as well, not to mention spending time doing social things (but not too many. We all know I suck at having a social life). I definitely think I'm in over my head with this teaching thing. I have no idea what to do to help students who don't understand, and I struggle every day to figure out what to do with the kids and how to get them to talk. Not to mention what to talk to them about. I have so little in common with them. They've asked me my favorite movies, songs, singers, books, etc. and they've never heard of any of them. It kind of frightens me, actually.

I've also been struggling with the usual Christmas shopping of the season. I only have a handful of people to shop for, but that might make it all the more difficult. Anyway, I have presents I got in Angers for my brothers and their respective spouses (or spouses-to-be). I also knew immediately what to get my mom and dad. Everyone else? I have no clue. So I winged it. Hope y'all enjoy regardless. I fail at shopping for other people (at least when I'm having to buy things that will fit in my suitcase, not break, and won't push the weight over the limit of 50 lbs. And when I can't get everyone the exact same thing).

My suitcase sits out in my living room, half-packed. A week from today, I'll have already left La Rochelle for Paris, spending the night in a hotel so I can catch an early flight. I'll only be in the states for ten days, so if you want to see me (and aren't already going to be seeing a lot of me, i.e. family), let me know. My schedule involves not getting too adjusted to the timezone, lazing around, and eating my way through my list of foods I've missed. Bojangles, for one, sushi, chinese food, a burrito, a real margarita, etc. The trick is not getting fat while I'm at it. And yes, I'm aware of my unhealthy obsession with my weight. I'm working on it.

The future terrifies me more than I can possibly express. Thinking beyond April makes my heart race (not in a good way) and my lungs literally jump into my throat. I don't know if I'm going to grad school (I'm not in the states, anyway, although I'm looking into going to a school here in France), and I don't know if I'll get renewed for the assistanceship. I'm not even sure I want to, because if I do another year of this, it's another year behind everyone else. I like the idea of getting a degree here, but living in France isn't easy. I know it sounds great, and it is, but it takes a lot of being lonely and a lot of being confused and scared. The question isn't whether or not I can do it (I can), it's whether or not I want to. My parents like to point out that I always make my life more difficult than it has to be, and I know I do. Is it worth it, though?

The road less traveled and all that.

I'm watching Rachel Maddow made a yummy cocktail online. I can't wait to get home and make yummy Christmas cocktails, like eggnog and rum and some peppermint one that I found online. Oh holidays. I love thee.

The French kids all think "Deck the Halls" is hilarious. They burst into laughter every time they hear "Fa-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la". For some reason, that just amuses them beyond belief. (I've been teaching them American Christmas carols.) Now it's stuck in my head.

holly, ivy, mistletoe, and the gently falling snow

Happy Thanksgiving, tout le monde. Tonight instead of turkey and pumpkin pie, I am going to a Green Day movie-concert (a movie of their Munich concert). It should be interesting at least and I don't have school tomorrow so that's a plus. This weekend I plan to go through and clean my apartment. I'm also writing Christmas cards (French ones!) to send to interested parties back home. I just figured it'd be neat to send out cards from La Rochelle this year. I already have list of people who will be receiving one; if you want a card, and aren't sure whether or not I've got one with your name on it, email me your address and ye shall receive!

I'm in the middle of beginning my Christmas shopping. It always takes me a long time to pick things out (perfectionist that I am) but I've got at least half done so far. The rest I'm going to wait until after the start of the Christmas market so I see if there's anything worth getting. The giant square a few blocks from where I live is in the middle of construction. Two dozen or so little wooden houses are being built to act as the stalls for the market. Christmas markets are awesome and I've yet to find a city in Europe that doesn't have one. I adore this season in France. All the streets and alleyways in town have been strung up with lights and greenery, lights buried in the trees and hanging down across the old city gate beneath the clock-tower. They haven't been lit up yet (still November after all). When they do, I'll have to drag myself outdoors in the cold night air and take pictures with my phone.

Last weekend, I went out to dinner with a friend, and couldn't resist taking a picture of my crème brulée dessert.

I bring to you also the dessert from last weekend that has replaced the mille feuille aux fraises as my favorite. It's still a mille feuille, but it's praline flavored. Mmmmm.

Tonight I treated myself (in absence of pumpkin pie) to a pastry à la framboise. Light with just enough tart.

(Yes, you can see my sewing kit in the background. I've had to reattach several buttons on my coat. I'm really not good at it, hence having to do it over already.)

l'habit ne fait pas le moine

Today was one of the professor's birthday at school, so to celebrate, we had three bottle of champagne during lunch. This was probably a bad idea, as I have two classes this afternoon that I should probably stay awake for. Still, it was worth it. I love a good champagne, especially on a Monday. Mondays are the worst.

I did very little this weekend, which shouldn't surprise given my tendency toward laziness. I've also been spending too much time assessing my possible futures, with little to no definitive improvement or solidification of plans. Who knows where I'll be this time next year. That's one thing I do miss about being in school as a student, the regularity. The predictability. I always knew what was coming and what I needed to do for it. Now I have no idea what I'll be doing or what I need to do now in order to make that possible.

Falling asleep in the teacher's lounge at collège is probably not a good way to start.

This weekend I went to see a movie, L'homme qui voulait vivre sa vie. It was good, though not something I'd want to watch again. You know the kind of movie that leaves you exhausted after watching? It takes so much energy just to watch; the emotions are strong, intense, and you feel them with the character. Well, this movie is one of them. It's a very introspective piece, you see the whole thing through the point of view of one man and his own personal journey. Compared to most American movies, there is almost no dialogue. Most of the story comes through with emotions and acting (which was superb). The problem, of course, is that I like happy endings. When I want escape from the world, it doesn't matter how miserable it might get in the middle, the end always has to be happy and satisfying. If not, why bother? That's why I read the last page of a book before buying it, or why I make sure and read the synapsis of a movie before daring to watch. I see no need to make myself unnecessarily sad.

That being said, today I got to work and listened to a conversation in the teacher's lounge about how one of the professors' step-son killed himself yesterday. He lived in Japan, recently been divorced, and had a young child. They (the professor and her husband whose son it was) had spoken to him only the day before, and he had plans to come back to France for Christmas in eleven days. But they got a phone call yesterday from the ex-wife, crying and saying "He's killed himself. It's not my fault. It's not my fault." Now the family has to drop everything and fly to Japan for a funeral.

Stories like that mess with me, and I'm not entirely sure why. Perhaps because I can't imagine how that must feel, and I keep trying to put myself in the parents' shoes, saying "He would've been home in a few days. We just spoke to him. He was so far away and there was nothing we could do; why did we let him go away, did we do something wrong?" To have gone all year without seeing him, to know he'd be home in less than two weeks, and then suddenly be faced with the reality that they'll never see him again.

This is why I like my movies and books to end happily-ever-after.

In other news, I've been studying up on my French idiomatic phrases and informal language, and I stumbled across this one I thought would amuse: j'ai d'autres chats à fouetter. Literally : I have other cats to whip. It means I have other fish to fry/other things to do. Also, the French say "walking on eggs" rather than "walking on eggshells." This is why I love learning languages. Elles m'amusent.

choosing my confessions

Why do romance novel authors feel the need to include a prologue detailing some traumatic experience to explain the hero's angst/abandonment/love issues? It's really annoying. If you're a good writer, his reasons for being the way he is should come across without having to write out a scene where his parents are dead and he is left all alone, boo boo.

In other news, this update is brought to you by obscene amounts of caffeine. I got maybe four hours of sleep last night, if I was lucky, which I never am when it comes to sleep. This week has been more hectic than usual, because I've been commuting out to the Il de Ré everyday. As an assistant, I'm assigned to three different schools; two are in La Rochelle and one is out on the nearby island (hour by bus, thirty minutes by car). In order to simplify my schedule, the professors agreed that two weeks out of six I would spend at the one school on the island, lumping my hours together so that instead of having to go out there one day every week. I'm in the first of my two weeks here, and because it's so far away, all my hours get clumped together, and I spend from 9 to 5, Monday, Tuesday, and Thursday with a bunch of snobby middle schoolers.

I got up this morning at 6:30, after having fallen asleep sometime around 2. I chugged two cups of breakfast tea, and bought a coke on my way to the bus stop (along with a pain au chocolat, because chocolate never hurts). For now I have time to sit in the teachers lounge and write a bit, hence being able to tell you more about my life in France.

Today the school is having a bake sale for the parents to buy "cakes" to fundraise for school trips. I put cakes in quotation marks because they have a very different concept of cakes. Pies, tarts, cheese cakes, things that are basically big brownies, etc. I would have made a cake myself except I don't have an oven. Or a mixer. Or eggs, or flour, or sugar.

Speaking of American food, I've been doing a lesson on Thanksgiving in all my classes this week. The kids who aren't being total brats and ignoring anything I say are actually quite confused by the concept. There isn't really a word in French for 'thankful' and they don't understand that a turkey is different from a chicken (even though they have turkey in France and it's called something different from chicken). I also got a bunch of grossed out faces when I explained about pumpkin pie, which is delicious but I can see how they would think it sounds nasty. Some of the other American assistants and I were discussing how we could put together some Thanksgiving-y food for us next week, including a pie, but we'll see if anything actually comes of that (I find that people talk a lot more than they do). I had dinner with two of them last night in an Indian restaurant I've wanted to try, and it was decent. The best part was I got a tea (they called it "Marsala Ceylan" with milk and cardamom) which essentially tasted like chai. That might have been what kept me up all night but it was worth it. No price is too high for chai. Theoretically.

I don't think I've been this tired since the time last year I was awake for a 36 hour stretch. And I seem to remember mild hallucinatory effects. Or maybe that was a hallucination—wait. See, this sleep deprivation thing can make even the most sentient of beings incoherent.

I'm pretty darn incoherent, even in my head, which is saying something, because my head can be quite the acid trip on its own.

I've been doing research for my novel, and discovered that there are still so many things I want to see and haven't. So for my own continued education (and love of old things), I'm planning a thorough trip through the historic Périgord region in May, once my contract is over and I have some spare cash for travel before returning home to work and be a slave to school (if I manage to get into grad school, which is dubious). One my to see list: castles, castles, castles, castles, and medieval cities. And cathedrals. And ruins in general. I might also take the time to visit the prehistoric cave paintings that litter the region (seriously, this area is like my dream come true—so much old stuff! everywhere! This must be what heaven is like).

I suspect I'm becoming predictable.

I'm also growing my hair out which always translates to impending doom.

Desserts from this week:

you say stop, I say go go go

Just as I've been getting over my fear of flying, I woke this morning to a rather unpleasant nightmare about dying in a plane crash. Then I had a day of teaching, in the windy rain, and I decided to treat myself to an apple tart. Not that I really need excuses for treating myself, but I like it when I have one.


Tomorrow I'm off to Poitiers for a medical visit for my residence permit. Which means early morning and trains, but also no work. Yay for being an alien?