Well I guess the whole thing kicked off when I showed up at the gym on Monday, around 4:45 I would say. Dark. Locks. Closed. Um, yeah, apparently it was Christmas Eve and I had no idea. Plus I never saw a flyer with their holiday hours so I didn't know that they closed at 4. Sad. So sad, in fact, that I walked home to try to recoup some of the exercise. Then I made some awesome salmon and bread for dinner, Matt came over to finish watching Weeds and Skype the fam. It was all very anti-holidays. I never realized how unaware I could be.
Anyway, Christmas was spent inside mostly, I don't know how I killed so many hours. But last night Matt and I went out with Richard and Alex. Originally we were just going to get some take out and go back to Stephanie's, but we ended up finding a cool restaurant near Montparnasse. They had a fixed menu for 16.90 that was an apéritif, appetizer, entree, dessert, and a drink. Pretty bomb. Plus the apéritif was a kir royal, my favorite. Aaaaand after we went back to Stephanie's big empty apartment to fuck around and drink some delicious Bailey's hot chocolate. Richard and Alex left early, so then I was on my own to get home. Matt walked me to the bus stop and out of confusion and a little desperation, I just took the first bus that came, which was supposed to be the "inner circle." Apparently the "inner circle" goes all the way up to Sacre-Coeur. Wtf. So I ditched it at St. Germain-des-Près and tried to take another bus home. But instead I walked like the sav I am. So I got home around 3:30, showered, tanned, and sleepy pie.
Unfortunately, my sleep was interrupted at 9:30 by my neighbor. She asked me last night if I'd keep her suitcases and be there when DHL came to pick them up, so this morning she came by to drop them off. I made it back to sleep for a little, but then mail man rang with Lauren's package. It's all good though, cuz otherwise it would've shown up while I was gone, and it would have been a fiasco at the post office explaining why it took me two weeks to pick up my package. And now I have some pretty new bath stuff and 5 new pairs of Old Navy flip flops, incentive to survive the winter so I can wear them when it gets warmer.
So now today is the big knuckle down before tomorrow's departure. I gotta do some laundry, pack, drop Puck off at Keisha's, go to the gym -- all that fun stuff. And hope I don't go out for long enough to miss DHL. I'm giving up gay clubbing with Matt and Edwin tonight though, cuz I need to be the responsible one. Matt swears he'll be here at 8 tomorrow morning. I'll kill him if he isn't, basically. I also need to print out some directions and a shuttle confirmation but I'm feeling verrrry cheap and maybe I can do it at a hostel instead. Poo.
Wednesday, December 26, 2007
Monday, December 24, 2007
Un-manic Monday
Sighhhhhh. Today is the first Monday in quite a while where I haven't had to wake up at 6 am and work all day. Freedom is so sweet. So this morning, I have showered, drank some coffee, played fetch with my cat, and later I will probably paint my toes. I haven't had a pedicure in like a month which is majorly against my religion, but I got tired of them being constantly fucked up because of closed-toe shoes. Honestly I never realized how much the tiny detail of open or closed-toe could affect my life.
Yesterday I walked to the gym which was surprisingly doable. Except it was like 45 which is of course still cold but it was too warm to be hoofing it down to Place d'Italie apparently, cuz I was sweatin'. I walked because I needed a magazine and Gobelins is the only street around with open newsstands on Sunday. This Sunday closure thing really needs to be left behind. Anyway since I haven't had much cash on me I've bought two French tabloids, which I had been avoiding just because I am a magazine aficionado in English, so I don't want to feel impotent in French (also describes my aversion to French essays). But of course it's a tabloid and I understood every word, so I'll probably keep buying them to improve my colloquial vocab and expressions. It's educational! And funny to read about Sarko and his high-profile relationship with, as it turns out, one of the like 5 French celebrities I knew about before I got here.
After the gym I returned my dress -- success. It was the same girl as last Sunday so I guess my theory was correct. Anyway, I gave her the dress, told her it was too big, yada yada yada. Then she inspected it and smelled the armpits (ahahaha) and asked me suspiciously if it had been worn already. I told her no, that I just tried it on (which is true) and she let me pick something else out. I almost got a hat and a scarf as a replacement but then I saw another dress that is pretty much perfect so I got it instead. I will for sure be back to get some other stuff, though. There's another accessories store further down Mouffetard that I need to check out as well. Except it is full of cute shoes and the temptation is huge. Grrrr money. Knowing me I'll get back from vacation with all this leftover money and I'll go crazy spending it. Oh well, c'est la vie!
Yesterday I walked to the gym which was surprisingly doable. Except it was like 45 which is of course still cold but it was too warm to be hoofing it down to Place d'Italie apparently, cuz I was sweatin'. I walked because I needed a magazine and Gobelins is the only street around with open newsstands on Sunday. This Sunday closure thing really needs to be left behind. Anyway since I haven't had much cash on me I've bought two French tabloids, which I had been avoiding just because I am a magazine aficionado in English, so I don't want to feel impotent in French (also describes my aversion to French essays). But of course it's a tabloid and I understood every word, so I'll probably keep buying them to improve my colloquial vocab and expressions. It's educational! And funny to read about Sarko and his high-profile relationship with, as it turns out, one of the like 5 French celebrities I knew about before I got here.
After the gym I returned my dress -- success. It was the same girl as last Sunday so I guess my theory was correct. Anyway, I gave her the dress, told her it was too big, yada yada yada. Then she inspected it and smelled the armpits (ahahaha) and asked me suspiciously if it had been worn already. I told her no, that I just tried it on (which is true) and she let me pick something else out. I almost got a hat and a scarf as a replacement but then I saw another dress that is pretty much perfect so I got it instead. I will for sure be back to get some other stuff, though. There's another accessories store further down Mouffetard that I need to check out as well. Except it is full of cute shoes and the temptation is huge. Grrrr money. Knowing me I'll get back from vacation with all this leftover money and I'll go crazy spending it. Oh well, c'est la vie!
Saturday, December 22, 2007
The Green Fairy
Everyone hates a know-it-all, but in truth, I take great pride in being one. But there's nothing worse than a know-it-all who actually knows nothing.
Last night some friends and I went to Montmartre to live out some Moulin Rouge fantasies or something and attempt to get fucked up on absinthe. Totally not my idea, obviously, because I am the queen of internet research and some would have been done beforehand if I'd known ahead of time. So we got there and we wandered around. I assumed there was an actual destination, but no. Just that we were not allowed to go to a toursity place on Blvd. de Clichy cuz we'd get ripped off. Which is what ended up happening anyway, of course. It was fun and we did drink some absinthe (for 11 euros each shot) and we didn't hallucinate, but that's beside the point.
Our little bohemian ringleader whose name I won't mentioned just in case, was a pontificating moron. After reading some stuff on absinthe this morning, I've learned these things: it was banned in France for almost a century and therefore is not widely served anymore because it's difficult to make and a lot of people still think it's illegal; it IS spelled with an "h," even in French, you twit; and lastly, it was not hallucinogenic because it's stored in wormwood barrels -- wormwood is the name of a hallucinogenic herb used in the preparation of absinthe. So suck on that, you tool box.
Other than that the night was very fun and I actually ended up learning that one of my friends wrote two books before age 13 and used to do motivational speaking engagements in schools. At 19, he likes to fart on people. Go figure!
Last night some friends and I went to Montmartre to live out some Moulin Rouge fantasies or something and attempt to get fucked up on absinthe. Totally not my idea, obviously, because I am the queen of internet research and some would have been done beforehand if I'd known ahead of time. So we got there and we wandered around. I assumed there was an actual destination, but no. Just that we were not allowed to go to a toursity place on Blvd. de Clichy cuz we'd get ripped off. Which is what ended up happening anyway, of course. It was fun and we did drink some absinthe (for 11 euros each shot) and we didn't hallucinate, but that's beside the point.
Our little bohemian ringleader whose name I won't mentioned just in case, was a pontificating moron. After reading some stuff on absinthe this morning, I've learned these things: it was banned in France for almost a century and therefore is not widely served anymore because it's difficult to make and a lot of people still think it's illegal; it IS spelled with an "h," even in French, you twit; and lastly, it was not hallucinogenic because it's stored in wormwood barrels -- wormwood is the name of a hallucinogenic herb used in the preparation of absinthe. So suck on that, you tool box.
Other than that the night was very fun and I actually ended up learning that one of my friends wrote two books before age 13 and used to do motivational speaking engagements in schools. At 19, he likes to fart on people. Go figure!
Friday, December 21, 2007
Free at last, free at last
Yes, my friends, as of 8 pm last night, it is officially winter break. My last day went pretty well. We made Christmas cards in all six of my classes which meant no work for me. Although it was a little difficult to get the kids to follow my instructions, even in French. But plenty of them figured it out. I also got some cookies from another kid, and two of them made their Christmas cards for me. Buttttt they're both 11 year old boys so I'm pretty sure it's because I'm wet dream fodder. Dear lord. I was a little sad for my last class because the little kids went on a field trip to St. Germain so I was left with the "special kids." Luckily there's only a few of them and they're pretty well behaved. But this one little girl, Gwendoline. Man, she doesn't even try. I understand she's got some major ADD but she just has no reasoning skills, even in French. I wrote instructions in French on the board to help them with their cards and she just copied them onto her card. For people who love meds so much, I wonder why the Ritalin isn't flowing. I'm going to miss work over break, even though some of those kids just piss me off. During my lunch break I went over to Champion to buy a card and some chocolate Santas to send Ali and Merix in San Francisco. They won't get there in time for Christmas, but that's part of my charm. I'm thoughtful even if I'm late. Unfortunately for Lauren I was really early with her gift so it will be sitting on the counter or her bed or something in San Diego until she gets home.
Anyway, after work I boarded the train to meet my doom at MICEFA. Lovely, lovely Nicolas decided to leave early for vacation (or something) and in his stead, left us an essay. Awesome. So we sat in the room like adults and made ourselves write an essay. It helped that there were cookies and chocolate. But still, he should have left us an educational video or something because obviously we were only there to make sure we put in our two hours. When I got home my door was locked a few times (it locks automatically behind you but you can turn the lock to the left however many times afterward) so someone was there while I was gone. I assume it was Matt using the internet. He's staying at Stephanie's but hers isn't set up yet.
This morning I woke up and realized I was out of milk. So I made myself get dressed and ready and I braved the cold. I went to the lavender store to return a dress I bought on Sunday, and the bitch asked me to come back on Sunday again. I assume so that I could make the exchange with the same sales girl I bought the dress from. Fung. I explained that I really wanted an exchange and not a refund, but to no avail. I would have débrouilléd but I was uncaffeinated and malnourished so I just let it go and went to the grocery store. I'll go on Sunday and talk to the other girl. I just want to get rid of this huge dress and buy another pair of leggings and a scarf or something. I really want and need a hat but my pointy head makes them look weird.
So now it is countdown to vacation. I've got all of our travel documents in order (save my Beauvais shuttle confirmation when I get back from Barcelona -- I really don't feel like printing it out for 2 euros downstairs and the internet was down at work yesterday). I've got a pretty solid idea of what I want to pack other than that. Must remember to bring my own towels though. The hostels only have them for hire, and in London we're staying at someone's house but it's still nice not to make people do my laundry. I really have no idea what to expect from this trip either, which is kind of nice. All my professors and teachers at work have said I'm going to be so tired after this vacation. They're probably right, but we have very little planned in each destination. So as long as we get to each flight and lodging, there are no other schedules or itineraries to follow. I plan to eat, drink and be merry. The end.
Anyway, after work I boarded the train to meet my doom at MICEFA. Lovely, lovely Nicolas decided to leave early for vacation (or something) and in his stead, left us an essay. Awesome. So we sat in the room like adults and made ourselves write an essay. It helped that there were cookies and chocolate. But still, he should have left us an educational video or something because obviously we were only there to make sure we put in our two hours. When I got home my door was locked a few times (it locks automatically behind you but you can turn the lock to the left however many times afterward) so someone was there while I was gone. I assume it was Matt using the internet. He's staying at Stephanie's but hers isn't set up yet.
This morning I woke up and realized I was out of milk. So I made myself get dressed and ready and I braved the cold. I went to the lavender store to return a dress I bought on Sunday, and the bitch asked me to come back on Sunday again. I assume so that I could make the exchange with the same sales girl I bought the dress from. Fung. I explained that I really wanted an exchange and not a refund, but to no avail. I would have débrouilléd but I was uncaffeinated and malnourished so I just let it go and went to the grocery store. I'll go on Sunday and talk to the other girl. I just want to get rid of this huge dress and buy another pair of leggings and a scarf or something. I really want and need a hat but my pointy head makes them look weird.
So now it is countdown to vacation. I've got all of our travel documents in order (save my Beauvais shuttle confirmation when I get back from Barcelona -- I really don't feel like printing it out for 2 euros downstairs and the internet was down at work yesterday). I've got a pretty solid idea of what I want to pack other than that. Must remember to bring my own towels though. The hostels only have them for hire, and in London we're staying at someone's house but it's still nice not to make people do my laundry. I really have no idea what to expect from this trip either, which is kind of nice. All my professors and teachers at work have said I'm going to be so tired after this vacation. They're probably right, but we have very little planned in each destination. So as long as we get to each flight and lodging, there are no other schedules or itineraries to follow. I plan to eat, drink and be merry. The end.
Monday, December 17, 2007
Antarctica?
Um so I'm pretty much FREEZING MY ASS OFF. It was so cold today that the tips of my ears started hurting. That's the first time I've noticed that degree of frigidness here. I almost slipped crossing the train tracks cuz they were...frozen over. What the hell. And of course it doesn't help that once I'm inside, the heat is blasting like a mother fucker.
So today was a pretty good day at work. The problem with teaching six different classes and two different lesson plans is that things take different amounts of time. Sometimes we run out of time. Sometimes there's 15 extra minutes and we play the world's longest games of Simon Says. And there's one class that I still can't stand. The kids, their teacher. Ugh. They are horribly behaved and their teacher is useless. The funny and ironic thing is that today one of those kids gave me a gift bag full of chocolates with a card. Clearly his mom makes gifts for all of his teachers but it was cool nonetheless. When I was little my mom used to make epic batches of apple butter or caramels to give as gifts. Other classes were good too. Some of those kids are so cute I want to take them home with me. And in one class the little girls always kiss me on the check when we leave.
Anyway, after work I froze to death at the train station and somehow survived the commute home. I fell asleep for a while on the train. Sometimes I wonder how people get through that grind everyday. I only do it twice a week and it is just unpleasant. I'm thinking about moving farther away from campus when I get back to San Francisco, and nothing could be as bad as this commute. One bus or light rail for half an hour would be nothing compared to two metros and a train for over an hour like I'm doing now.
After I got home I warmed up some lovely tomato soup and now I'm watching Waitress. Mmm pies. If this journalism thing doesn't work out, I am seriously going to throw it all out the window and become a pastry chef. I wish I had more time/money/facilities to bake. What an awesome hobby.
So today was a pretty good day at work. The problem with teaching six different classes and two different lesson plans is that things take different amounts of time. Sometimes we run out of time. Sometimes there's 15 extra minutes and we play the world's longest games of Simon Says. And there's one class that I still can't stand. The kids, their teacher. Ugh. They are horribly behaved and their teacher is useless. The funny and ironic thing is that today one of those kids gave me a gift bag full of chocolates with a card. Clearly his mom makes gifts for all of his teachers but it was cool nonetheless. When I was little my mom used to make epic batches of apple butter or caramels to give as gifts. Other classes were good too. Some of those kids are so cute I want to take them home with me. And in one class the little girls always kiss me on the check when we leave.
Anyway, after work I froze to death at the train station and somehow survived the commute home. I fell asleep for a while on the train. Sometimes I wonder how people get through that grind everyday. I only do it twice a week and it is just unpleasant. I'm thinking about moving farther away from campus when I get back to San Francisco, and nothing could be as bad as this commute. One bus or light rail for half an hour would be nothing compared to two metros and a train for over an hour like I'm doing now.
After I got home I warmed up some lovely tomato soup and now I'm watching Waitress. Mmm pies. If this journalism thing doesn't work out, I am seriously going to throw it all out the window and become a pastry chef. I wish I had more time/money/facilities to bake. What an awesome hobby.
Sunday, December 16, 2007
On consumerism
I spent the entire month of November waiting for a paycheck. After I paid December's rent, I started spending. . .and basically haven't stopped since. A lot of it comes from the fact that there were things I actually needed (food, hairbrush, mascara) that I had been doing without for weeks. And that I was in desperate need of cute winter wear. Buuuuut unfortunately I've been inundated with this cute winter wear. Like I mentioned before, I went to Pimkie like six times in two weeks. And there's this store down the street from me -- this tiny, lavender store. And I'm telling you, I practically drool every time I walk by. The cutest coats on the planet live here. They're not cheap (49 and 59 respectively for the two I'm eyeing), but the other stuff in there is. The dresses, the sweaters, all of it. Honestly I don't even need to scrimp except that I have no idea how much money I'm going to spend on my vacation and so I'm being extra, extra conscious. I definitely have no plans to shop (especially in London, fack), but who knows how much I'll be spending on food and drink during the 11 day period. Pot cupcakes aren't cheap, you know? Haha I'm only sort of kidding. So everyday, I walk by that store and the coats beckon to me. Luckily one of them wasn't available in my size today. And the other one is making me hesitate because it's purple. The other one is black and white, which is a nice change. I have a problem. All of my clothes are black, grey, and purple. It's not entirely my fault -- these colors and little else are prevalent in France. They could really do with some navy here. Or olive perhaps. And I haven't been buying brown stuff cuz I don't really have shoes to go with them. Maybe it would behoove me to buy some brown boots? Let's not talk about shoes. I didn't even wear closed-toed shoes at home, much less all of the amazing boots and flats I've been ogling lately. All in good time. My financial goals this year have been narrowed to two -- travel and buy nice clothes.
This brings me to another obsession as of late. With winter break coming so close, I've started to brainstorm spring break options. I have a couple spring-type breaks, but I think the first one I'll try a shorter, more close-by getaway. But the last week of April and first of May -- I would like to go all-out. At least part of that will include a few days in Rome to visit Lauren. Ideally I'd like to tack on a night or two in Venice just cuz it's on my list of must-see cities. And then there's this amazing hostel (here) in Nice. A few days on the beach in the South of France sounds amaaaaazing.
Another consumerist problem I'm facing. There are few things in life that please me more than full cupboards. I hit up Picard the other day just cuz I'm a sucker for over-priced but excellent quality frozen protein. Hamburgers (-5% fat of course) and chicken breasts were on the order this time. I miss Jennie-O turkey burgers so bad. And Trader Joe's garlic basil sausage --- AHHHH. Anyway, I'm now the proud proprietor of a freezer full of ice cream, delicious little cheese pizzas, frozen shrimp, chicken, and burgers. Mmm. Plus I'm still working on the chocolates and waffles my mom and I brought back from Belgium. Food is so wonderful. Good thing I've got that gym membership.
So in other, less self-obsessed and shallow happenings, I'm about to embark on my last week of teaching and school before break. I've already finished 3/4 of the worksheets I'm handing out with week. Well, one is some matching work for vocab review for the kiddies. Then we'll do some questions out loud and maybe a song if they're lucky. They loved the itsy bitsy spider. But it's a little difficult for them to sing out loud when they're doing hand motions. And during my break I'll work on my homework. I love how I'm getting so on top of things right at the end of the semester. I feel like next semester will be so much better. I feel like I'm about to break even -- I'm settled, I'm clothed, I'm a legal resident, I'm salaried. . .I'm adjusted. It's a nice feeling.
Tomorrow Matt gets in, but I won't see him cuz I'll be working all day and he's going to a Sciences Po party in the evening. Kerstin won't be coming next week anymore, but it's okay. Seeing Kerstin when I first got here was very cool on a few levels. For one, she's been my French education buddy since back in the day. And she was much more freaked out about the mood than I was, so I felt pretty normal haha. But also, I hadn't seen her in about two years -- but we picked up pretty much where we left off. I hope I continue to have friendships like that. Life gets busy and I can get totally tunnel-visioned, anti-social, whatever. But to know that there are some people I can hang out with like no time has passed. . .that's perfect.
This brings me to another obsession as of late. With winter break coming so close, I've started to brainstorm spring break options. I have a couple spring-type breaks, but I think the first one I'll try a shorter, more close-by getaway. But the last week of April and first of May -- I would like to go all-out. At least part of that will include a few days in Rome to visit Lauren. Ideally I'd like to tack on a night or two in Venice just cuz it's on my list of must-see cities. And then there's this amazing hostel (here) in Nice. A few days on the beach in the South of France sounds amaaaaazing.
Another consumerist problem I'm facing. There are few things in life that please me more than full cupboards. I hit up Picard the other day just cuz I'm a sucker for over-priced but excellent quality frozen protein. Hamburgers (-5% fat of course) and chicken breasts were on the order this time. I miss Jennie-O turkey burgers so bad. And Trader Joe's garlic basil sausage --- AHHHH. Anyway, I'm now the proud proprietor of a freezer full of ice cream, delicious little cheese pizzas, frozen shrimp, chicken, and burgers. Mmm. Plus I'm still working on the chocolates and waffles my mom and I brought back from Belgium. Food is so wonderful. Good thing I've got that gym membership.
So in other, less self-obsessed and shallow happenings, I'm about to embark on my last week of teaching and school before break. I've already finished 3/4 of the worksheets I'm handing out with week. Well, one is some matching work for vocab review for the kiddies. Then we'll do some questions out loud and maybe a song if they're lucky. They loved the itsy bitsy spider. But it's a little difficult for them to sing out loud when they're doing hand motions. And during my break I'll work on my homework. I love how I'm getting so on top of things right at the end of the semester. I feel like next semester will be so much better. I feel like I'm about to break even -- I'm settled, I'm clothed, I'm a legal resident, I'm salaried. . .I'm adjusted. It's a nice feeling.
Tomorrow Matt gets in, but I won't see him cuz I'll be working all day and he's going to a Sciences Po party in the evening. Kerstin won't be coming next week anymore, but it's okay. Seeing Kerstin when I first got here was very cool on a few levels. For one, she's been my French education buddy since back in the day. And she was much more freaked out about the mood than I was, so I felt pretty normal haha. But also, I hadn't seen her in about two years -- but we picked up pretty much where we left off. I hope I continue to have friendships like that. Life gets busy and I can get totally tunnel-visioned, anti-social, whatever. But to know that there are some people I can hang out with like no time has passed. . .that's perfect.
Friday, December 14, 2007
Whoops
Apparently I forgot that I had a blog. Actually it's more like I've been so tired when I get home that all I want to do is lay down and the typing takes too much effort. Anyway, plenty of things have happened since I last put something down here. I did finally get paid, and I celebrated by immediately calling Orange and recharging my SIM card. Okay so maybe it was a late celebration. Mom got in on November 30 and stayed for a week. We went shopping and made guacamole and went to Bruges for a day and all kinds of stuff. We went to like four different Pimkie's so I could bulk up my long-sleeve shirt repetoire. Plus I got some wool tights and dresses and stuff. And Mom bought me a fat raincoat at Etam so now I'm all set. Bruges was cool, although not what I had expected. I knew Belgium had more than one language but I didn't realize how prevalent Flemish would be. It should be interesting when I travel some more because I really don't remember what it's like to visit a country where you don't know the language. The last time that happened I was 13, during my 2 1/2 week trip to Latvia, Lithuania, and the Netherlands. I know people speak English practically everywhere, but I still feel like I should be speaking French, pretty much no matter where I go.
Anyway, the visit was good. It was marred by my stupid Franco-American exposé, so I was stressed out most of the time, but that ended up fine too. On the Monday of that week, I was "inspected" by the local education department. Fun times. It was the two women I already know of course, and they came to my smallest and probably best-behaved class, so it was fine. They said they were very happy that the kids are smiling and excited to speak English and not afraid to mess up. But they also said that there's too much writing involved. Which is silly because all they ever have to write is vocab words and that just helps with memorization. So yeah overall in was fine.
Tuesday I got my carte de séjour, FINALLY. That morning I left early and went to four tabacs to find the fucking stamp. Nothing. Of course. Somehow I arrived at my appointment about 4 minutes early, enough time to run to the tabac half a block away as a last, desperate attempt. And of course they had the stamp all along. This fucking country. I waited for a while to have my name called, but once the process started it only took like 15 minutes. I went in and they did a little weight-height-vision test, plus gave me a female condom. Gee thanks! Next it was the infamous chest x-ray. I took off my shirt, went in, was awkwardly pressed against a machine, and that was it. The nice doctor man told me I should do all the paper work for social security when it comes in (since I'm technically a fonctionnaire -- ahhhh!), but I'm not sure it's worth the hassle. I of course took my x-ray home and promptly taped it to my window like fucked up stained glass. It makes me laugh cuz my boobs look gigantic.
So then some stuff and whatever happened and now it's the end of this week. I've been feeling quasi-sick all week and therefore exhausted. It feels like allergies but who knows. The weather keeps going from rain to dry as well so that sometimes messes me up. Currently my weather widget says that today will be a high of 38 and a low of 26. Niiiiice. One more week and then it's winter break, I'm so excited I can barely stand it. I've got some homework to do this weekend, as well as a Christmas worksheet for the kiddies. I'm going to have them make Christmas cards for their families using English expressions. I can't believe it's almost Christmas already. Christmas has sort of lost it's significance for me in the past few years, since we've been going to Vegas or Disneyland instead. My brought did bring our ornaments when she moved though. And she brought me a big Hanukkiah and the nice Israeli candles when she came, so I got to have a relatively normal Hanukkah. Matt will be here on Christmas so we'll have to figure something out, even if it's getting drunk in the Marais and celebrating our Jewishness.
And then. . .vacation. It's so close I can taste it. This week I've put reminders all over the place so I'll remember to print out all of our confirmation info. And I need to find the Eurolines office so I can get our bus tickets. Seriously I walked by it but I think it's in some private building, so I need to call and ask them how to get in. I should've just paid the 5 euro or whatever to have some mailed to me. Speaking of mail, I sent my first package to the US the other day. I compiled a few things and a Christmas card for Lauren. I really tried to find a Hanukkah card but no luck. I did decorate the envelope though. Next order of business is to put together something for Merix and Alexander. They are the boys I nannied last year, who speak French fluently, and are very jealous that I got to go to Paris. So I'm gonna hit up the toy stores and souvenir things looking for some Astérix toys or something. And of course I will send them some Kinder bars so they can feel really French. Their parents will love that. Of course I also want to send them stuff cuz I'd like to secure that job when I get back. Tee.
I have such a problem with getting ahead of myself, but I really can't help it. I've already started to plan my summer school schedule around free mornings so I can work when I get back. I don't even want to think about housing though. I'm staying with my mom at first while I look for something. This year I want to live with normal people whose parents are paying their rent or something. I dunno, obviously not everyone is irresponsible, just be people I've chosen to live with. The key is to plan ahead so I don't have to be desperate. Oy. It's too far away to worry about right now anyway.
Anyway, the visit was good. It was marred by my stupid Franco-American exposé, so I was stressed out most of the time, but that ended up fine too. On the Monday of that week, I was "inspected" by the local education department. Fun times. It was the two women I already know of course, and they came to my smallest and probably best-behaved class, so it was fine. They said they were very happy that the kids are smiling and excited to speak English and not afraid to mess up. But they also said that there's too much writing involved. Which is silly because all they ever have to write is vocab words and that just helps with memorization. So yeah overall in was fine.
Tuesday I got my carte de séjour, FINALLY. That morning I left early and went to four tabacs to find the fucking stamp. Nothing. Of course. Somehow I arrived at my appointment about 4 minutes early, enough time to run to the tabac half a block away as a last, desperate attempt. And of course they had the stamp all along. This fucking country. I waited for a while to have my name called, but once the process started it only took like 15 minutes. I went in and they did a little weight-height-vision test, plus gave me a female condom. Gee thanks! Next it was the infamous chest x-ray. I took off my shirt, went in, was awkwardly pressed against a machine, and that was it. The nice doctor man told me I should do all the paper work for social security when it comes in (since I'm technically a fonctionnaire -- ahhhh!), but I'm not sure it's worth the hassle. I of course took my x-ray home and promptly taped it to my window like fucked up stained glass. It makes me laugh cuz my boobs look gigantic.
So then some stuff and whatever happened and now it's the end of this week. I've been feeling quasi-sick all week and therefore exhausted. It feels like allergies but who knows. The weather keeps going from rain to dry as well so that sometimes messes me up. Currently my weather widget says that today will be a high of 38 and a low of 26. Niiiiice. One more week and then it's winter break, I'm so excited I can barely stand it. I've got some homework to do this weekend, as well as a Christmas worksheet for the kiddies. I'm going to have them make Christmas cards for their families using English expressions. I can't believe it's almost Christmas already. Christmas has sort of lost it's significance for me in the past few years, since we've been going to Vegas or Disneyland instead. My brought did bring our ornaments when she moved though. And she brought me a big Hanukkiah and the nice Israeli candles when she came, so I got to have a relatively normal Hanukkah. Matt will be here on Christmas so we'll have to figure something out, even if it's getting drunk in the Marais and celebrating our Jewishness.
And then. . .vacation. It's so close I can taste it. This week I've put reminders all over the place so I'll remember to print out all of our confirmation info. And I need to find the Eurolines office so I can get our bus tickets. Seriously I walked by it but I think it's in some private building, so I need to call and ask them how to get in. I should've just paid the 5 euro or whatever to have some mailed to me. Speaking of mail, I sent my first package to the US the other day. I compiled a few things and a Christmas card for Lauren. I really tried to find a Hanukkah card but no luck. I did decorate the envelope though. Next order of business is to put together something for Merix and Alexander. They are the boys I nannied last year, who speak French fluently, and are very jealous that I got to go to Paris. So I'm gonna hit up the toy stores and souvenir things looking for some Astérix toys or something. And of course I will send them some Kinder bars so they can feel really French. Their parents will love that. Of course I also want to send them stuff cuz I'd like to secure that job when I get back. Tee.
I have such a problem with getting ahead of myself, but I really can't help it. I've already started to plan my summer school schedule around free mornings so I can work when I get back. I don't even want to think about housing though. I'm staying with my mom at first while I look for something. This year I want to live with normal people whose parents are paying their rent or something. I dunno, obviously not everyone is irresponsible, just be people I've chosen to live with. The key is to plan ahead so I don't have to be desperate. Oy. It's too far away to worry about right now anyway.
Friday, November 23, 2007
Well this resembles normal, at least
According to ye olde oracle, aka the RATP website, things are getting back to normal. And somehow the RER is back to normal overnight. Whatever. I just hope it starts working outside of Paris again so I can pick my mom up at the airport next week.
Anyway, the past couple days were marred by the transportation nightmare. Actually on Wednesday Paris 3 was still closed, so we had class at a cafe and MICEFA paid for our coffee. Not a bad deal. That afternoon my class at Nanterre was all systems go, but we had a to take a train there, a train that left at 2:06 and if we missed it, we'd be about an hour late to class. So I waited for the bus for a while, it came and was too full. Another one came, and I got on with my face practically smooshed against the doors. When we were about 5 minutes from Chatelet, the door closed across my big toe and effectively ripped off my cuticle. So there I am, stressed out, bleeding, and without much oxygen. This quickly turned into nausea and I was certain I was going to barf all over that bus. So at the next stop I hopped off and sat down to breathe for a few seconds. Luckily I was okay, so I ran over to Chatelet, on the 14, through St. Lazare, and onto the grossly crowded train just in time. After class Keisha and I took the bus all the way home, and I stopped off at the MICEFA "Thanksgiving" celebration. Which was one free cocktail and some potato chips. Oh well, the cocktail was good.
Thursday was another hellish day. I ended up going to bed late on Wednesday and then it was another 5:45 wake up call. Luckily, this time, a bus did come and I got a nice, easy ride to Chatelet in the early-morning, traffic-free streets. The train left at 7:07 and I was majorly early to work. The day was pretty normal, I taught Thanksgiving. Of course these poor kids just have blank and/or quizzical stares about the whole thing. But they grasped the concept of Pilgrims leaving England and setting up the first colony in America. I left out the religious problems, the long winter, and the part where they wiped out Squanto's tribe. We also made hand Turkeys, which were hilarious because these poor kids have no imagination. It took a good 15 minutes to make them realize it was a turkey, not just their hands. They were like "wait why do we put a beak on it? Should we draw finger nails?" And then of course they wanted to see mine so they could see exactly which colors to use and what pattern to put them in. I've never said, "whatever" and "no big deal" so much in my life as when I'm teaching these kids. No wonder they grow up to be grumpy, negative Parisians.
Anyway, after work I got to the train, got to Chatelet, but then there were no buses. Well it's a good 45 minutes from Chatelet to MICEFA, and I honestly tried, but as soon as I got to the Pantheon I made a left and hauled ass home. Sorry Professor. I was late already. When I got home the electrician was here fixing my hot water heater. Which wasn't broken so much as a switch had been flipped in the fuse box and it turned off. Um yeah I'm not a dumb blonde American or anything. But he's a cool guy who lives a block away and drives a scooter so it's not like he moved the Earth to get here.
The rest of the night I just talked on the phone to my mom and my brother and watched Ugly Betty. I downloaded the whole first season and it's pretty addictive. Yesterday was so weird because there are just no signs of Thanksgiving here, and no one understands. Hanukkah hopefully won't be as much as a problem, my mom will be around for the first few nights and we can go to Chez Hanna and eat falafel. I've kind of purged Christmas from my system since I haven't celebrated it in four years now. But yesterday morning at work when I was tired and hungry and stressed out, I was a little emotional about the fact that everyone got to go to my aunt's house and eat Matt's mom's bomb ass pumpkin pie last night. Even my cousin Ian managed to make it, and he lives in China. Here's to next year I guess.
Anyway, the past couple days were marred by the transportation nightmare. Actually on Wednesday Paris 3 was still closed, so we had class at a cafe and MICEFA paid for our coffee. Not a bad deal. That afternoon my class at Nanterre was all systems go, but we had a to take a train there, a train that left at 2:06 and if we missed it, we'd be about an hour late to class. So I waited for the bus for a while, it came and was too full. Another one came, and I got on with my face practically smooshed against the doors. When we were about 5 minutes from Chatelet, the door closed across my big toe and effectively ripped off my cuticle. So there I am, stressed out, bleeding, and without much oxygen. This quickly turned into nausea and I was certain I was going to barf all over that bus. So at the next stop I hopped off and sat down to breathe for a few seconds. Luckily I was okay, so I ran over to Chatelet, on the 14, through St. Lazare, and onto the grossly crowded train just in time. After class Keisha and I took the bus all the way home, and I stopped off at the MICEFA "Thanksgiving" celebration. Which was one free cocktail and some potato chips. Oh well, the cocktail was good.
Thursday was another hellish day. I ended up going to bed late on Wednesday and then it was another 5:45 wake up call. Luckily, this time, a bus did come and I got a nice, easy ride to Chatelet in the early-morning, traffic-free streets. The train left at 7:07 and I was majorly early to work. The day was pretty normal, I taught Thanksgiving. Of course these poor kids just have blank and/or quizzical stares about the whole thing. But they grasped the concept of Pilgrims leaving England and setting up the first colony in America. I left out the religious problems, the long winter, and the part where they wiped out Squanto's tribe. We also made hand Turkeys, which were hilarious because these poor kids have no imagination. It took a good 15 minutes to make them realize it was a turkey, not just their hands. They were like "wait why do we put a beak on it? Should we draw finger nails?" And then of course they wanted to see mine so they could see exactly which colors to use and what pattern to put them in. I've never said, "whatever" and "no big deal" so much in my life as when I'm teaching these kids. No wonder they grow up to be grumpy, negative Parisians.
Anyway, after work I got to the train, got to Chatelet, but then there were no buses. Well it's a good 45 minutes from Chatelet to MICEFA, and I honestly tried, but as soon as I got to the Pantheon I made a left and hauled ass home. Sorry Professor. I was late already. When I got home the electrician was here fixing my hot water heater. Which wasn't broken so much as a switch had been flipped in the fuse box and it turned off. Um yeah I'm not a dumb blonde American or anything. But he's a cool guy who lives a block away and drives a scooter so it's not like he moved the Earth to get here.
The rest of the night I just talked on the phone to my mom and my brother and watched Ugly Betty. I downloaded the whole first season and it's pretty addictive. Yesterday was so weird because there are just no signs of Thanksgiving here, and no one understands. Hanukkah hopefully won't be as much as a problem, my mom will be around for the first few nights and we can go to Chez Hanna and eat falafel. I've kind of purged Christmas from my system since I haven't celebrated it in four years now. But yesterday morning at work when I was tired and hungry and stressed out, I was a little emotional about the fact that everyone got to go to my aunt's house and eat Matt's mom's bomb ass pumpkin pie last night. Even my cousin Ian managed to make it, and he lives in China. Here's to next year I guess.
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
My life is on strike
Let's start at the beginning.
Yesterday I decided that, barring some sort of nuclear attack, I was going to make it to work. I set my alarm for 5:45, spent 0% of my time lollygagging, and managed to be out the door with coffee, lunch, and snack by 6:20 am. I went down to the bus stop and spent about 5 minutes praying before I realized that I might end up sitting there for half an hour and then totally missing my train and wasting all of this effort. So I decided to man up and walking to Chatelet, which is of course a good half an hour on foot. It was pitch black outside and it was cold, and I was totally disoriented. It looked a lot like that time Matt and I walked home from a club in St. Germain des Près at 5 am, and we saw people walking to work. Well now I was one of those crazy people walking to work before sunrise. So anyway, I made it in pretty good time, and the blessed line 14 pulled up just as I got to the platform. I arrived at the St. Lazare platform and waited only a couple minutes before a train arrived. My train was posted to leave at 7:24, but I was sitting down and leaving the station at 7:12. So maybe the train was really early, maybe really late. Whatever. Je me suis débrouillée!
The rest of the day was pretty standard, and easy because I was teaching about America and anglophones so I just did the same lesson 6 times. After work I trekked to the Marly train station, but I had missed the 4:42 so I had to wait until 5:11. I snoozed a little on the train until we got to La Défense and all of humanity bombarded the train. It was dark when we got to St. Lazare. It really freaks me out that when I leave for work and come back in the evening, the sky looks pretty much the same. Line 14 was a breeze as usual, but then came the issue. I did NOT want to walk. I was exhausted and starving. So I went to the bus stop and waited. I waited half an hour. I'm pretty sure I waited so long because my hunger and fatigue put me into some sort of hypoglycemic shock and I was partially passed out. But I was pretty sure no bus was coming, so I walked. I walked from Hôtel de Ville, across the river, through Notre Dame, across the river again, down St. Germain des Prés, up Mont St. Geneviève. It's very romantic and tragic to be walking in Paris with all of these amazing architectural feats around and just hating it because the city is kicking your ass. I felt like Carrie in "Anchors Away" when she realizes that she and New York don't have the perfect relationship. I was hanging on by a thread when I got home. I ate some hot tomato soup and watched some Ugly Betty and felt normal again.
Next debacle. Hot water heater is on strike, too. Last night the water was pretty lukewarm and it hasn't improved since. I used my boulloire to make hot water to wash my face this morning. This might mean that I have to shower at the gym until this is fixed. I think those showers might be communal. Gah. And I'd have to bring toiletries and flip flops and a towel and change of clothes. I miss PAC. I miss marble stalls and warm towels and guava lotion. Grrr.
Also, pretty much all of France is on strike right now. In addition to the Metro and the students, the fonctionnaires went on strike today. Since everything in France is state-run, pretty much everyone works for the government. Teachers, sanitation workers, the people working on my carte de séjour at the préfecture. Basically we're all screwed. Even if I wanted to go class, and I managed to get there by train or something, and the buildings weren't blocked by protesting students, my professor probably wouldn't even be there. This country is bonkers, man.
Yesterday I decided that, barring some sort of nuclear attack, I was going to make it to work. I set my alarm for 5:45, spent 0% of my time lollygagging, and managed to be out the door with coffee, lunch, and snack by 6:20 am. I went down to the bus stop and spent about 5 minutes praying before I realized that I might end up sitting there for half an hour and then totally missing my train and wasting all of this effort. So I decided to man up and walking to Chatelet, which is of course a good half an hour on foot. It was pitch black outside and it was cold, and I was totally disoriented. It looked a lot like that time Matt and I walked home from a club in St. Germain des Près at 5 am, and we saw people walking to work. Well now I was one of those crazy people walking to work before sunrise. So anyway, I made it in pretty good time, and the blessed line 14 pulled up just as I got to the platform. I arrived at the St. Lazare platform and waited only a couple minutes before a train arrived. My train was posted to leave at 7:24, but I was sitting down and leaving the station at 7:12. So maybe the train was really early, maybe really late. Whatever. Je me suis débrouillée!
The rest of the day was pretty standard, and easy because I was teaching about America and anglophones so I just did the same lesson 6 times. After work I trekked to the Marly train station, but I had missed the 4:42 so I had to wait until 5:11. I snoozed a little on the train until we got to La Défense and all of humanity bombarded the train. It was dark when we got to St. Lazare. It really freaks me out that when I leave for work and come back in the evening, the sky looks pretty much the same. Line 14 was a breeze as usual, but then came the issue. I did NOT want to walk. I was exhausted and starving. So I went to the bus stop and waited. I waited half an hour. I'm pretty sure I waited so long because my hunger and fatigue put me into some sort of hypoglycemic shock and I was partially passed out. But I was pretty sure no bus was coming, so I walked. I walked from Hôtel de Ville, across the river, through Notre Dame, across the river again, down St. Germain des Prés, up Mont St. Geneviève. It's very romantic and tragic to be walking in Paris with all of these amazing architectural feats around and just hating it because the city is kicking your ass. I felt like Carrie in "Anchors Away" when she realizes that she and New York don't have the perfect relationship. I was hanging on by a thread when I got home. I ate some hot tomato soup and watched some Ugly Betty and felt normal again.
Next debacle. Hot water heater is on strike, too. Last night the water was pretty lukewarm and it hasn't improved since. I used my boulloire to make hot water to wash my face this morning. This might mean that I have to shower at the gym until this is fixed. I think those showers might be communal. Gah. And I'd have to bring toiletries and flip flops and a towel and change of clothes. I miss PAC. I miss marble stalls and warm towels and guava lotion. Grrr.
Also, pretty much all of France is on strike right now. In addition to the Metro and the students, the fonctionnaires went on strike today. Since everything in France is state-run, pretty much everyone works for the government. Teachers, sanitation workers, the people working on my carte de séjour at the préfecture. Basically we're all screwed. Even if I wanted to go class, and I managed to get there by train or something, and the buildings weren't blocked by protesting students, my professor probably wouldn't even be there. This country is bonkers, man.
Sunday, November 18, 2007
Operation Overlord
Friday turned out to be sort of successful. After a good 20 minutes shivering at the bus stop, a bus did show up and I managed to get to Place d'Italie. I did a little shopping at the cheapo Wet Seal/Forever 21-ish stores. Unfortunately until I get paid I can't do a ton of shopping. But I got a few long sleeved shirts, which I can add to the two pairs of shoes I ordered that my mom is going to bring me in a couple weeks. I'm getting used to wearing my boots and flats but I miss the days of Uggs and flip flops. Actually there is a new pair of Uggs out that I am so in love with I think I'm going to buy them and figure out a way to get them here. Too bad I just found them or I would've had time for Mumsy to bring them. Anyway. I got some cat food at Bricorama, went to the gym (FINALLY. It was glorious) and then stood out in the even more freezing cold to catch the bus back home afterward. It reminded me of the days of Muni buses, standing in the cold waiting and then the excruciating crawl through traffic.
Yesterday, a Saturday morning, I dragged my ass out of bed at 7 am and walked in the dark and freezing cold to MICEFA. For my Franco-American relations class, we had to take this mandatory trip to Normandy to do some WWII learnage. Luckily MICEFA is all about the charter buses so it was a comfortable 4 hour drive. Except for the part where I thought I was showing some self control by not buying anything at the gas station mini-mart on the way there, because we were promised a crepe stand at the beach. Well, crepe stand was closed. That started a long road of starvation that lasted until I finally had something more than my morning coffee and a few Pringles, at 7 pm on the way home.
Anyway, the trip itself was really cool. I went to Hilton Head in South Carolina when I was really little but I don't remember it, so technically it was the first time I'd ever seen the Atlantic Ocean. It still strikes me as odd when I see beaches in cold climates. At home the beach is fun and inviting, in San Francisco it's just grey and scary, and in Normandy it was cold and really calm. It's the ocean but it was also the English channel so that explains the lack of breakers I guess. Plus the sea gulls were just floating near the shore like ducks! I couldn't believe it. Luckily it was a perfectly clear day so we just kind of walked around and looked at stuff and took it all in. Oh and Morgan waded into the water to get sea shells for everyone like a savage.
Then we got back in the bus to go to the American cemetery, which was pretty disorienting I have to say. Well first we had to go through security which was funny cuz I had a coffee thermos in my bag that pretty much resembled a torpedo. And we got inside and there's Dubya's framed publicity photo (why he hasn't gotten a new one in 7 years, I'll never understand) looking like the goofy asshole he is. Our chaperone didn't much like my reaction. Sidenote: she was a bitch, basically. Just way out of touch or something, I dunno. At least Barbara treats us like humans. Anyway, bitchy chaperone told me that when you're overseas you shouldn't talk shit about your president or something. Is she kidding? If I'm supposed to be representing Americans then I should let people know that not all Americans are Bible-thumping cowboys. Honestly just because I may have shown a chink in that United We Stand bullshit doesn't mean the the rest of the world is going to suddenly realize that America isn't invincible -- trust me, you twit, they know. ANYWAY. The rest of the cemetery was really cool. Our tour guide was extra perky and excited, and there were some cool displays with maps of all the fighting. Of course in the actual cemetery portion I had to find all the Jewish people. Luckily they got Stars of David instead of crosses, which everyone else got regardless of their religion. I know it's an old cemetery, but that still seems kind of silly. I mean they are bunches of military cemeteries in California and they all just plain white, pillar-like headstones. Anyway, yeah. And someone asked what the stars were for.
Okay maybe this is a bit of a rant, and if you didn't grow up in an urban or yuppy-ish area then you probably don't know any Jewish people, but seriously. I didn't know any Muslim people for most of my childhood but I still managed to pick up a few things about Islam. There's a woman who works at one of the schools where I teach, and granted she seems a little stunted emotionally and not totally aware of social propriety (in that she sometimes stares at me like I'm a zoo creature), but when I told her I wouldn't be missing Christmas with my family because I'm Jewish, it was just a blank stare. I understand if you don't understand what Kosher is or why some people wear kippahs, but there are people who think Jews celebrate Christmas? Actually I shouldn't be surprised -- Chelsea didn't know that Jews didn't believe in Jesus until I told her about a year ago.
Okay I'm getting off track again. The rest of the museum was nice, with lots of displays and a short movie to watch. Again, it was all very American with our super American tour guide and I felt more like I was visiting Pearl Harbor, but with less Japanese people. Oh and toward the end some members of the Royal Marines showed up and the girls (and of course many of the guys) in our group were pleased. I'd never seen a jarhead with a British accent, it was cool. I find myself straining to here British people speak all the time. Is that creepy? Sometimes I wish I had a fun accent.
So after the cemetery it was back on the bus and back toward civilization. Except this time in addition to the idiots behind me singing along to Jessica Simpson on an iPod, there was this crazy woman to the right of me. I knew there would be trouble when she threw into an earlier conversation that she was the youngest of 6 children. Immediately I was like, oh dear, she has a desperate and pathological need for attention and validation. And did she. I'm quite certain that more than half of the stories she told Morgan (I was just eavesdropping) were complete bullshit. I could almost see her thought process as a subject was brought up and she came up with some outlandish story or statement to make herself seem amazing. Plus she was just hypersexual about everything which sadly makes me think she was abused or something as a kid. Who knows, I shouldn't psychoanalyze people. Anyway, I wish I had brought my iPod cuz honestly after a while listening to her speak made me nauseated. Plus I was hypoglycemic from not having eaten anything that day. And I couldn't doze off because she'd start talking about vaginas or excrement some more and my stomach would turn. Finally her husband called her and she stopped talking (oh yeah, husband. She also announced to our part of the bus that we should get married ASAP before our tits start to sag. As if that fucking ring is going to keep her husband from cheating on/leaving her disgusting ass in five years. Oh and then there was the part about her next life phase "making the babies." I wish people could figure out something more to do than populate the Earth with their unevolved offspring).
Anyway, despite some of the irritations of the day, it wasn't bad for a field trip.
This morning I woke up, and it is fuckin' frio in the world. I turned on my heater for about 20 minutes to warm the place up a bit. I hate heaters for some reason. When I was little we never used it, that's probably why. My mom would just tell me to put on some socks and a sweatshirt when it got cold in the house. Sometimes the heater would turn on for a bit in the middle of the night, but only when it got to like 45 degrees in the house. I dunno. It makes me feel like I'm wasting energy, like when people leave the lights on in empty rooms or throw away their plastic bottles. I feel bad because I don't pay my electricity bill so if I overuse my landlady has to deal with it. So I've been keeping everything except the phone unplugged unless I'm using it. Sadly, it is getting really cold and I may have to keep the heat on at least while I'm at home. At night it's actually not really necessary cuz between the covers and the cat I'm super warm. According to my weather widget it's 32 degrees outside. Fack.
Yesterday, a Saturday morning, I dragged my ass out of bed at 7 am and walked in the dark and freezing cold to MICEFA. For my Franco-American relations class, we had to take this mandatory trip to Normandy to do some WWII learnage. Luckily MICEFA is all about the charter buses so it was a comfortable 4 hour drive. Except for the part where I thought I was showing some self control by not buying anything at the gas station mini-mart on the way there, because we were promised a crepe stand at the beach. Well, crepe stand was closed. That started a long road of starvation that lasted until I finally had something more than my morning coffee and a few Pringles, at 7 pm on the way home.
Anyway, the trip itself was really cool. I went to Hilton Head in South Carolina when I was really little but I don't remember it, so technically it was the first time I'd ever seen the Atlantic Ocean. It still strikes me as odd when I see beaches in cold climates. At home the beach is fun and inviting, in San Francisco it's just grey and scary, and in Normandy it was cold and really calm. It's the ocean but it was also the English channel so that explains the lack of breakers I guess. Plus the sea gulls were just floating near the shore like ducks! I couldn't believe it. Luckily it was a perfectly clear day so we just kind of walked around and looked at stuff and took it all in. Oh and Morgan waded into the water to get sea shells for everyone like a savage.
Then we got back in the bus to go to the American cemetery, which was pretty disorienting I have to say. Well first we had to go through security which was funny cuz I had a coffee thermos in my bag that pretty much resembled a torpedo. And we got inside and there's Dubya's framed publicity photo (why he hasn't gotten a new one in 7 years, I'll never understand) looking like the goofy asshole he is. Our chaperone didn't much like my reaction. Sidenote: she was a bitch, basically. Just way out of touch or something, I dunno. At least Barbara treats us like humans. Anyway, bitchy chaperone told me that when you're overseas you shouldn't talk shit about your president or something. Is she kidding? If I'm supposed to be representing Americans then I should let people know that not all Americans are Bible-thumping cowboys. Honestly just because I may have shown a chink in that United We Stand bullshit doesn't mean the the rest of the world is going to suddenly realize that America isn't invincible -- trust me, you twit, they know. ANYWAY. The rest of the cemetery was really cool. Our tour guide was extra perky and excited, and there were some cool displays with maps of all the fighting. Of course in the actual cemetery portion I had to find all the Jewish people. Luckily they got Stars of David instead of crosses, which everyone else got regardless of their religion. I know it's an old cemetery, but that still seems kind of silly. I mean they are bunches of military cemeteries in California and they all just plain white, pillar-like headstones. Anyway, yeah. And someone asked what the stars were for.
Okay maybe this is a bit of a rant, and if you didn't grow up in an urban or yuppy-ish area then you probably don't know any Jewish people, but seriously. I didn't know any Muslim people for most of my childhood but I still managed to pick up a few things about Islam. There's a woman who works at one of the schools where I teach, and granted she seems a little stunted emotionally and not totally aware of social propriety (in that she sometimes stares at me like I'm a zoo creature), but when I told her I wouldn't be missing Christmas with my family because I'm Jewish, it was just a blank stare. I understand if you don't understand what Kosher is or why some people wear kippahs, but there are people who think Jews celebrate Christmas? Actually I shouldn't be surprised -- Chelsea didn't know that Jews didn't believe in Jesus until I told her about a year ago.
Okay I'm getting off track again. The rest of the museum was nice, with lots of displays and a short movie to watch. Again, it was all very American with our super American tour guide and I felt more like I was visiting Pearl Harbor, but with less Japanese people. Oh and toward the end some members of the Royal Marines showed up and the girls (and of course many of the guys) in our group were pleased. I'd never seen a jarhead with a British accent, it was cool. I find myself straining to here British people speak all the time. Is that creepy? Sometimes I wish I had a fun accent.
So after the cemetery it was back on the bus and back toward civilization. Except this time in addition to the idiots behind me singing along to Jessica Simpson on an iPod, there was this crazy woman to the right of me. I knew there would be trouble when she threw into an earlier conversation that she was the youngest of 6 children. Immediately I was like, oh dear, she has a desperate and pathological need for attention and validation. And did she. I'm quite certain that more than half of the stories she told Morgan (I was just eavesdropping) were complete bullshit. I could almost see her thought process as a subject was brought up and she came up with some outlandish story or statement to make herself seem amazing. Plus she was just hypersexual about everything which sadly makes me think she was abused or something as a kid. Who knows, I shouldn't psychoanalyze people. Anyway, I wish I had brought my iPod cuz honestly after a while listening to her speak made me nauseated. Plus I was hypoglycemic from not having eaten anything that day. And I couldn't doze off because she'd start talking about vaginas or excrement some more and my stomach would turn. Finally her husband called her and she stopped talking (oh yeah, husband. She also announced to our part of the bus that we should get married ASAP before our tits start to sag. As if that fucking ring is going to keep her husband from cheating on/leaving her disgusting ass in five years. Oh and then there was the part about her next life phase "making the babies." I wish people could figure out something more to do than populate the Earth with their unevolved offspring).
Anyway, despite some of the irritations of the day, it wasn't bad for a field trip.
This morning I woke up, and it is fuckin' frio in the world. I turned on my heater for about 20 minutes to warm the place up a bit. I hate heaters for some reason. When I was little we never used it, that's probably why. My mom would just tell me to put on some socks and a sweatshirt when it got cold in the house. Sometimes the heater would turn on for a bit in the middle of the night, but only when it got to like 45 degrees in the house. I dunno. It makes me feel like I'm wasting energy, like when people leave the lights on in empty rooms or throw away their plastic bottles. I feel bad because I don't pay my electricity bill so if I overuse my landlady has to deal with it. So I've been keeping everything except the phone unplugged unless I'm using it. Sadly, it is getting really cold and I may have to keep the heat on at least while I'm at home. At night it's actually not really necessary cuz between the covers and the cat I'm super warm. According to my weather widget it's 32 degrees outside. Fack.
Friday, November 16, 2007
Crunch crunch crunch
I have to preface this entry with the fact that my cat just captured and ate two flies in the span of about ten minutes. The crunchy sound of their deaths will haunt me for life.
Anywhoozle. Yesterday I wanted to get proactive about the strike and work around it. Unfortunately, line 7 turned from 1 train every 45 minutes to quasi-nul while I was waiting. So I tried the bus, but it didn't come. I walked down to the nearest Velib' station to test my bravery. Broken ticket machine. So I walked down to Censier and tried that one. Unfortunately, I haven't received my October paycheck so my French bank account doesn't quite have the 150 euro deposit for the Velib'. I thought about walking to the gym, which is feasible, but by then I would've been running late after walking there, working out, and walking back. So instead I wasted some time at Monoprix looking for tights. And sadly they had some that I really liked but only in bigger sizes.
At 6 my Franco-American relations class attempted to happen at MICEFA. I bundled up like never before in my life and walked. Class was held in the tiny upstairs office and was just comical. A bunch of chairs jammed into a teeny room with the professor right in our faces, writing on a pathetic little white board. But whatever, we worked through it I guess. Bless his heart, that man needs a shower or some deodorant or something. Luckily it was so stuffy in there that it didn't seem strange when we kept opening the window for air. Class was semi-interesting, although it gets kind of funny because Americans know nothing about history. So he's asking us about WWI and we're like, "durhhhh." I managed to pull Franz Ferdinand's assassination out of my ass from 10th grade world history. Thanks Mr. Lockhart. The professor is always very careful to make sure we don't get too full of ourselves after he concedes that America saved France's ass twice. He's like, "well the war would have ended differently if American hadn't shown up, but they were very late and France did most of the fighting." I'm just sitting there like chill out, we are college students studying in France and attempting to master the French language -- we don't think America the world's savior.
Another fun fact. The French government subsidizes French cinema and television. True story. They take the proceeds from American movie ticket sales and allocate a part to French production companies using French crews and actors. Same with ad revenue from American TV shows. The thought of that is kind of creepy. I know the French are all about preserving their culture, but the government here just knows no bounds. Maybe they'd be able to get social security out of debt if they weren't giving money to make French movies and TV shows that no one watches because they still suck, no matter how much funding they get (okay not all of them, but most French people prefer American TV shows, and French movies never get as much box office as American ones).
After class everyone was trying to figure out their ways home -- some people had walked 2 hours to get to class. Crazy people. Nicolas (the professor) offered to drive some people to the right bank to catch some working metros over there. Luckily I live a 20 minute walk from MICEFA, so Melissa, Taylor, Susie and I just hoofed it up St. Michel.
I'm going to make another valiant effort to work out, and maybe shop a little. Tomorrow we're going to the Normandy Beaches and it might be muddy. I don't have shoes for mud. I left my rubber rain boots at home! Fack.
Anywhoozle. Yesterday I wanted to get proactive about the strike and work around it. Unfortunately, line 7 turned from 1 train every 45 minutes to quasi-nul while I was waiting. So I tried the bus, but it didn't come. I walked down to the nearest Velib' station to test my bravery. Broken ticket machine. So I walked down to Censier and tried that one. Unfortunately, I haven't received my October paycheck so my French bank account doesn't quite have the 150 euro deposit for the Velib'. I thought about walking to the gym, which is feasible, but by then I would've been running late after walking there, working out, and walking back. So instead I wasted some time at Monoprix looking for tights. And sadly they had some that I really liked but only in bigger sizes.
At 6 my Franco-American relations class attempted to happen at MICEFA. I bundled up like never before in my life and walked. Class was held in the tiny upstairs office and was just comical. A bunch of chairs jammed into a teeny room with the professor right in our faces, writing on a pathetic little white board. But whatever, we worked through it I guess. Bless his heart, that man needs a shower or some deodorant or something. Luckily it was so stuffy in there that it didn't seem strange when we kept opening the window for air. Class was semi-interesting, although it gets kind of funny because Americans know nothing about history. So he's asking us about WWI and we're like, "durhhhh." I managed to pull Franz Ferdinand's assassination out of my ass from 10th grade world history. Thanks Mr. Lockhart. The professor is always very careful to make sure we don't get too full of ourselves after he concedes that America saved France's ass twice. He's like, "well the war would have ended differently if American hadn't shown up, but they were very late and France did most of the fighting." I'm just sitting there like chill out, we are college students studying in France and attempting to master the French language -- we don't think America the world's savior.
Another fun fact. The French government subsidizes French cinema and television. True story. They take the proceeds from American movie ticket sales and allocate a part to French production companies using French crews and actors. Same with ad revenue from American TV shows. The thought of that is kind of creepy. I know the French are all about preserving their culture, but the government here just knows no bounds. Maybe they'd be able to get social security out of debt if they weren't giving money to make French movies and TV shows that no one watches because they still suck, no matter how much funding they get (okay not all of them, but most French people prefer American TV shows, and French movies never get as much box office as American ones).
After class everyone was trying to figure out their ways home -- some people had walked 2 hours to get to class. Crazy people. Nicolas (the professor) offered to drive some people to the right bank to catch some working metros over there. Luckily I live a 20 minute walk from MICEFA, so Melissa, Taylor, Susie and I just hoofed it up St. Michel.
I'm going to make another valiant effort to work out, and maybe shop a little. Tomorrow we're going to the Normandy Beaches and it might be muddy. I don't have shoes for mud. I left my rubber rain boots at home! Fack.
Thursday, November 15, 2007
Frizzle my nizzle
Okay kids, it is starting to get cold. And I'm not talking "haha, it's 45 degrees at night" cold. I'm talking, it is 10:26 am at 37 degrees outside. Luckily it is a perfectly clear day. I think I can handle the cold as long as it's not raining. I can wear cute boots and coats and scarves but being wet and sludgy is crossing the line.
Yesterday, in the face of a strike at school and a strike on the metro, my History of Paris class s'est débrouillé (note: se débrouiller is a common French expression that literally means to de-fog yourself, but basically means to figure it out, work it out, or if you're my reporting teacher, POWER IT. I will use it often as it's a common theme in my life right now) and had a quasi-class anyway. We met in front of Paris 3, did a little walking through the Jardin des Plantes, but the intense cold got to be too much. I mean honestly when the wind blows, I think I might shrivel up and die. My new goal is to never spend that much time outdoors again for the next 4 or 5 months. Anyway, we couldn't take the cold anymore so we found a cafe and had class there, inside, with coffee. Niiiiice. Actually my teacher gave up on lecturing because she had plenty to say about the strikes. And blah blah we talked about some French politics and crap. The professor looks like an animated Disney character (one day I'll pinpoint whom exactly), but she's actually pretty cool.
I didn't really realize how long it's been since I last wrote. Well last Friday my Ikea dresser finally arrived. Bright and early, at 8:30 am, my buzzer startled me awake and I rushed to put on a sweatshirt and cover my head because the delivery man did not need to see me like that. After he dropped it off I tried to go back to bed, but then realized that I'd gone to sleep at 10:30 the night before and despite being rudely awakened, I had gotten plenty of sleep. So in the wee hours (haha), I made some coffee and watched Chocolat while I put together the dresser. I got as far as I could without only a flathead screwdriver, then took a break to go to MICEFA and the hardware store. I finally finished the dresser that night.
On Sunday I managed to get myself up pretty early and I hit up the farmer's markets. I ended up only getting lemons cuz the salmon I wanted was too expensive. Instead I went to good old Picard and bought some different extravagant salmon but ya know, that's life. I also gave in and bought a coffee thermos. I've been looking for just a tumbler so I can save some time in the morning before work but I don't think they really exist in France. So I bought a well-priced thermos and a good tupperware thingy to bring my lunch in.
Monday went off almost without a hitch. Finally a day when almost everything worked. I emphasize the word almost. The morning was like a well-coordinated relay race. Get up, get dressed, make coffee, pack lunch, pack bag, out the door, line 7, line 14, and BOOM -- at St. Lazare with five minutes to spare. I drank my coffee on the train, it arrived in Marly on time, voila. Of course once I got to work I realized that my period had started and then later one of the worksheets I made for class that day wouldn't print. But I was semi-prepared for the first issue and ended up improvising on the second, which turned out better than my original plan. During my lunch break I went to Champion to buy "supplies" and ended up getting some other fun things, like socks and Disney princess tissues. I don't even really use tissues but I suppose they could come in handy. Oh and of course one of my students came strolling by with her mother while I was picking out tampons.
Oh here's a little side note about Champion. This one in Marly is heaven. Almost Target-like in its divinity. First of all, it's totally Americanized, down to the in-house butcher and bakery, and a little club card for your keychain. Unfortunately they're still not open on Sundays. Anyway, you know how the Ralph's bakery has little packaged cookies and donuts in stuff? In France, the pre-packaged baked goods include religieuses and macarons. Fucking incredible. They're probably not that good but hey, how novel. Also, when I was looking at band-aids and other things to fix sore feet, I realized the condoms and lube were right there next to them. Another novelty. Not hidden next to the Vagisil, or in locked in a case like the fascist Walgreens on West Portal (that place just pisses me off). Also Champion has colored toilet paper with scents like lilac, jasmine, clementine. That's a little excessive, I think.
The rest of this week has kind of been marred by French unrest. Everything is on strike. It might have been feasible for me to get to work today as two of my three required modes of transport are supposed to be working, and I was just going to take a bus to replace my first metro ride (but even the buses are only running at 30%). When the alarm went off at 6 I just said "fuck it" cuz they're not expecting me anyway. And this way I know I'll be on time for my class this evening, which is being held at MICEFA because the Sorbonne is still trippin'. So today I'll finish up my homework, attempt to go to the gym, and go to class finally. Hopefully I can catch a metro or bus to the gym. I thought about using the Velib' yesterday but quite frankly I'm terrified of riding a bike in Paris. Apparently it's not acceptable to drive on the sidewalk like back in the CV. Uh oh.
Other small spot of news its that mumsy called the other day and announced that she'd like to take a day trip while she's visiting (she comes two weeks from tomorrow) and she had settled on Bruges. So I'm going to skip school for two days and we'll take the train to Belgium right after I get my carte de sejour on the 4th. Life is pretty good.
Yesterday, in the face of a strike at school and a strike on the metro, my History of Paris class s'est débrouillé (note: se débrouiller is a common French expression that literally means to de-fog yourself, but basically means to figure it out, work it out, or if you're my reporting teacher, POWER IT. I will use it often as it's a common theme in my life right now) and had a quasi-class anyway. We met in front of Paris 3, did a little walking through the Jardin des Plantes, but the intense cold got to be too much. I mean honestly when the wind blows, I think I might shrivel up and die. My new goal is to never spend that much time outdoors again for the next 4 or 5 months. Anyway, we couldn't take the cold anymore so we found a cafe and had class there, inside, with coffee. Niiiiice. Actually my teacher gave up on lecturing because she had plenty to say about the strikes. And blah blah we talked about some French politics and crap. The professor looks like an animated Disney character (one day I'll pinpoint whom exactly), but she's actually pretty cool.
I didn't really realize how long it's been since I last wrote. Well last Friday my Ikea dresser finally arrived. Bright and early, at 8:30 am, my buzzer startled me awake and I rushed to put on a sweatshirt and cover my head because the delivery man did not need to see me like that. After he dropped it off I tried to go back to bed, but then realized that I'd gone to sleep at 10:30 the night before and despite being rudely awakened, I had gotten plenty of sleep. So in the wee hours (haha), I made some coffee and watched Chocolat while I put together the dresser. I got as far as I could without only a flathead screwdriver, then took a break to go to MICEFA and the hardware store. I finally finished the dresser that night.
On Sunday I managed to get myself up pretty early and I hit up the farmer's markets. I ended up only getting lemons cuz the salmon I wanted was too expensive. Instead I went to good old Picard and bought some different extravagant salmon but ya know, that's life. I also gave in and bought a coffee thermos. I've been looking for just a tumbler so I can save some time in the morning before work but I don't think they really exist in France. So I bought a well-priced thermos and a good tupperware thingy to bring my lunch in.
Monday went off almost without a hitch. Finally a day when almost everything worked. I emphasize the word almost. The morning was like a well-coordinated relay race. Get up, get dressed, make coffee, pack lunch, pack bag, out the door, line 7, line 14, and BOOM -- at St. Lazare with five minutes to spare. I drank my coffee on the train, it arrived in Marly on time, voila. Of course once I got to work I realized that my period had started and then later one of the worksheets I made for class that day wouldn't print. But I was semi-prepared for the first issue and ended up improvising on the second, which turned out better than my original plan. During my lunch break I went to Champion to buy "supplies" and ended up getting some other fun things, like socks and Disney princess tissues. I don't even really use tissues but I suppose they could come in handy. Oh and of course one of my students came strolling by with her mother while I was picking out tampons.
Oh here's a little side note about Champion. This one in Marly is heaven. Almost Target-like in its divinity. First of all, it's totally Americanized, down to the in-house butcher and bakery, and a little club card for your keychain. Unfortunately they're still not open on Sundays. Anyway, you know how the Ralph's bakery has little packaged cookies and donuts in stuff? In France, the pre-packaged baked goods include religieuses and macarons. Fucking incredible. They're probably not that good but hey, how novel. Also, when I was looking at band-aids and other things to fix sore feet, I realized the condoms and lube were right there next to them. Another novelty. Not hidden next to the Vagisil, or in locked in a case like the fascist Walgreens on West Portal (that place just pisses me off). Also Champion has colored toilet paper with scents like lilac, jasmine, clementine. That's a little excessive, I think.
The rest of this week has kind of been marred by French unrest. Everything is on strike. It might have been feasible for me to get to work today as two of my three required modes of transport are supposed to be working, and I was just going to take a bus to replace my first metro ride (but even the buses are only running at 30%). When the alarm went off at 6 I just said "fuck it" cuz they're not expecting me anyway. And this way I know I'll be on time for my class this evening, which is being held at MICEFA because the Sorbonne is still trippin'. So today I'll finish up my homework, attempt to go to the gym, and go to class finally. Hopefully I can catch a metro or bus to the gym. I thought about using the Velib' yesterday but quite frankly I'm terrified of riding a bike in Paris. Apparently it's not acceptable to drive on the sidewalk like back in the CV. Uh oh.
Other small spot of news its that mumsy called the other day and announced that she'd like to take a day trip while she's visiting (she comes two weeks from tomorrow) and she had settled on Bruges. So I'm going to skip school for two days and we'll take the train to Belgium right after I get my carte de sejour on the 4th. Life is pretty good.
Thursday, November 8, 2007
It's always something
This country, I swear. Shit just doesn't work. I now understand why the French are so grumpy and negative -- they are constantly being inconvenienced. Today I was late to work for the third time in the month I've been teaching. This morning, the crise du jour was a fire on the train tracks about 15 minutes from my stop. Lovely. So we had to get off the train, and then it was a crush of humanity to board the buses outside. Originally I was planning to patch together a couple bus rides to get to Marly, but the buses were being slow and quickly filling with lots of pushy people. So instead of crying, I called the office that is in charge of me to ask them to give me a route and to call my first school to tell them I couldn't make it. Silver lining: at least now I am sure that I can understand and speak great French under pressure. I ended up taking the train to La Défense, then taking the RER out to St. Germain en Laye, then taking a bus to Marly. Fucking ridonk. And of course I got there at 9:45. Too late to go to my first school (where I finish at 10), but a good hour before my next class. So I photocopied and made handouts, the best way to kill time at work. And of course I tried not to pass out because the commute had sucked all of my energy. Luckily I'm not feeling very sick anymore.
So after surviving the day well enough, I had an easy ride back to Paris and to the Sorbonne. When I got there, I saw a big protest outside. No big deal. The government is thinking about charging students to go to college. Obviously for me it's like "duh, college costs money," but it doesn't for the French as of yet. And plus they pay taxes out the ass so they shouldn't have to pay for school. Anyway, I thought it was just a fun little demonstration until I got closer to the entrance (to look for classmates and/or the professor) and saw what I think was a French SWAT team outside. Like most other authority figures in France (except for the national guardsmen with machine guns at the train station), their style of dress made them very hard to take seriously. First of all, they wear these helmets with plastic screens like welders or something (the firemen wear them too, so silly). Plus they were wearing these shin guards and chest plates that can only be compared to catcher's gear (baseball). And of course there are the enormous plastic shields (to protect themselves against rotten fruit?) that they used to form a wall to block us from going to class. Picture that epic masterpiece Troy, when Hector's army is guarding the gates and they make a big wall with their shields. Yeah, that's exactly what it looked like. I had to giggle a little. So, for all intents and purposes, I assume that was canceled today. Although I can't for the life of me figure out why, if some of the students are protesting, that the whole Sorbonne had to be closed for business. And guarded by policemen. Plus, the cops just stood there silent, looking more scared than anything. Another very French phenomenon. In France, the Man is afraid of YOU.
So after surviving the day well enough, I had an easy ride back to Paris and to the Sorbonne. When I got there, I saw a big protest outside. No big deal. The government is thinking about charging students to go to college. Obviously for me it's like "duh, college costs money," but it doesn't for the French as of yet. And plus they pay taxes out the ass so they shouldn't have to pay for school. Anyway, I thought it was just a fun little demonstration until I got closer to the entrance (to look for classmates and/or the professor) and saw what I think was a French SWAT team outside. Like most other authority figures in France (except for the national guardsmen with machine guns at the train station), their style of dress made them very hard to take seriously. First of all, they wear these helmets with plastic screens like welders or something (the firemen wear them too, so silly). Plus they were wearing these shin guards and chest plates that can only be compared to catcher's gear (baseball). And of course there are the enormous plastic shields (to protect themselves against rotten fruit?) that they used to form a wall to block us from going to class. Picture that epic masterpiece Troy, when Hector's army is guarding the gates and they make a big wall with their shields. Yeah, that's exactly what it looked like. I had to giggle a little. So, for all intents and purposes, I assume that was canceled today. Although I can't for the life of me figure out why, if some of the students are protesting, that the whole Sorbonne had to be closed for business. And guarded by policemen. Plus, the cops just stood there silent, looking more scared than anything. Another very French phenomenon. In France, the Man is afraid of YOU.
Monday, November 5, 2007
Brush with greatness
So today I was in Franprix on Mouffetard (the little one, for those who know), trying to get over to the ice cream freezer when my path was blocked by a cameraman, a dude with a boom mic, and some other dude in a suit. I assumed they were filming some sort of news piece. But then, as I went to check out, one of the check stands was loaded down with groceries (about 125 euros' worth, as I noted) so I moved to the next one. Then I realized that the woman at the check out was with the camera crew, and she was Mathilde Seigner. She's a French actress who was in a movie I saw in class last year (Harry, for the 306 alums), and these people were following her around for an interview or a documentary or something. It occurred to me that it might be a movie, but the guy talking to her had a clip mic on his shirt so I highly doubt it. Too bad I don't have TV cuz I'd like to see myself on French television haha. It was a bizarre experience because I don't really even know of any French celebrities, but I instantly recognized her (plus her face is all over the metro because she has a new movie coming out). Paris is a weird place because everything is here. In America, movie stars are in LA, models are in New York, politicians are in Washington, DC. But in France, they're all in Paris.
That brings me to something else -- Sarko walking out on 60 Minutes. I think the guy's a total toolbox, but I definitely felt bad for him. The dumb bitch should've just let it go. Most Americans don't get this, but in France, the personal life of a politician is totally irrelevant. The French don't just talk about their sex lives with strangers, even if they're public figures. I'm actually amazed that he just took the mic off instead of calling her a nosy bitch (or maybe a "putain salope américaine").
That brings me to something else -- Sarko walking out on 60 Minutes. I think the guy's a total toolbox, but I definitely felt bad for him. The dumb bitch should've just let it go. Most Americans don't get this, but in France, the personal life of a politician is totally irrelevant. The French don't just talk about their sex lives with strangers, even if they're public figures. I'm actually amazed that he just took the mic off instead of calling her a nosy bitch (or maybe a "putain salope américaine").
Sunday, November 4, 2007
Getting shit done
I hate that I become so paralyzed when I'm a little overwhelmed. I mean, I've had almost this entire past week to do tons of stuff and I've only gotten some of it done. They say, if you want to get something done, give it to a busy person. I'm much more productive when I'm frenzied, unfortunately. Otherwise I'm like one of those pathetic housewives from The Feminine Mystique with all day to get the housework done but who can't help but drag it out to fit the time available. I can't look out at an empty calendar of five days and figure out where I want to squeeze in the maybe three hours of work I have to do. Only this morning did I start to work on some assignments. I need the pressure of a time constraint. I'm sure I won't start practicing for my exposée on Wednesday until maybe Tuesday morning before class. I will never understand why it seems so much easier to freeze up and waste time than to get shit done and revel in the amazing feeling of having accomplished something. I feel great when I have clean laundry, a tidied apartment and all of my homework out of the way -- yet somehow I'm not addicted enough to continuously seek that high.
Tomorrow I am determined to get some lesson planning done. Aside from the thought of lesson planning, I'm almost excited to get back to 14-hour days and the triumphant feeling when I'm finally horizontal after a long day of trying to engage kids.
Tomorrow I am determined to get some lesson planning done. Aside from the thought of lesson planning, I'm almost excited to get back to 14-hour days and the triumphant feeling when I'm finally horizontal after a long day of trying to engage kids.
Thursday, November 1, 2007
All Saints, and not much else
I have to admit, I was a little afraid of what a real French bank holiday would be like. At home, such a thing doesn't really exist. It's no problem to hit up the grocery store or the movie theatres any day of the year, even Christmas. But here, I wasn't sure they'd caught on to the capitalist strategy that when everyone else isn't working, you should stay open to serve them and make more money. From what I can tell, nothing was really closed. Except the bank, naturally, which I needed.
So on Tuesday I got a little letter in the mail saying that my debit card was ready for pick up. Silly, silly French people. You can't just mail me my card? So anyway, I go in, and of course they tell me to come back next week cuz it's not there yet. Why the douche bags sent me the letter, then, I don't know. So meanwhile I need to pay my rent by online transfer, but I can't put money into my account without the damn card. So I ask the guy if there's a place to make a deposit without a card (because this branch doesn't have tellers -- WTF) and he tells me to go up to St. Michel to do it. By this time I was late for class so I'm going to do that today. Anyway, I wouldn't have been able to make the transfer for rent anyway because in order to add my landlord as a recipient, I have to get a confirmation code IN THE MAIL. After the first one they sends the codes by text message, but COME ON. If there's one thing I can't stand, it's people who makes things difficult just for the sake of being difficult.
So anyway. This holiday nonsense was all very poorly-timed because I couldn't get this important banking done yesterday. Although I'm hoping that 1. the code comes in the mail today, and 2. my landlord hasn't even bothered to check her account to make sure I sent her money. She's kind of getting on my nerves. We signed the lease at a dollar amount back in January (the equivalent of 750 euros back then) to guard against currency fluctuations. Good thing, too, cuz the dollar is in the shitter. Anyway, after I moved in she mentioned that it would be better for me to deposit euros into her account here so she could pay the bills with them. So meanwhile I set up this bank account and took almost all of my money out of my American account to put it in my French one. But now she doesn't like that the euro amount of the rent will be different every month so she wants me to send her checks for dollars in the States. Well god dammit, I'm very low on dollars and I don't even know how I would transfer money from my French account to the American one. I wonder if I can make online transfers to her American account. Gah.
So there's that as well. Today I'm also going to attempt to pick up Matt and I's bus tickets to Amsterdam. Of course, there was some sort of ridiculous service charge to have them mailed to me, so I opted to pick them up near the Sorbonne. Except they want me to print out the confirmation email and bring it to them, along with ID and the credit card I paid with. Fuck them. Printing shit out is way too expensive. I'm going to go systéme "d" with my ID, credit card, and confirmation number and convince them that it's enough. Again, they just like to make things difficult, and then you're a worthwhile human if you fight them through it.
Another fun story. My dumb ass locked my stuff into a locker at the gym without putting my keys on my belly button ring (haha). Of course I realized right away, but I decided to do my workout first before I dealt with it. Afterward I had to search all of the posters around to find the words for "lock" (une serrure) and "locker" (un casier). Luckily the verbs for locking and closing are the same word. There is a poster in the locker room about how the club accepts no responsibility for stuff being stolen from lockers, and then another one saying that we shouldn't use combo locks. So I found the words and the nice girl brought out some giant pruning shears and cut my lock off. So now I need a new one. I tried to go to Bricorama at the mall to find a new one, but no dice. I did however find some very affordable cat food in big bags, so I won't have to buy Puck the little bags at the vet's office anymore. But now I want a combo lock more than ever. I used to have a sweet purple one but I left it at Fitness USA once.
I responded to a babysitting ad on Craig's list, out of compulsion, I think. It's just for occasional work, which is good. At first I wasn't going to babysit because my job pays so well, but now that I'm doing all of this traveling I figure the more extra cash the better. Except they live in Villejuif (a suburb) and I can't figure out if it's a good neighborhood or not. Whatever, I'll go meet them during the day and we'll see. I also feel kind of awkward giving references when I haven't talked to my references since I left. I don't even know why that would worry me.
So yeah. This break has been very relaxing but at the same time I know I have stuff to work on. I have like 6 written expression assignments, an exposée on Wednesday with Keisha, plus tons of lesson planning. My plan is to make a bunch of handouts online and then print them out at work in one shot when I get back. Luckily they understand what a flash drive is. This will save me lots of money at the rip-off printer's downstairs.
One more news tidbit. Oink and TV Links were both busted during the same week. Sad time for me. I need a new music downloading service, but I think I can find another place to watch streaming TV cuz TV Links was just a list of links from other services. Still, though, the man is fucking up my life.
So on Tuesday I got a little letter in the mail saying that my debit card was ready for pick up. Silly, silly French people. You can't just mail me my card? So anyway, I go in, and of course they tell me to come back next week cuz it's not there yet. Why the douche bags sent me the letter, then, I don't know. So meanwhile I need to pay my rent by online transfer, but I can't put money into my account without the damn card. So I ask the guy if there's a place to make a deposit without a card (because this branch doesn't have tellers -- WTF) and he tells me to go up to St. Michel to do it. By this time I was late for class so I'm going to do that today. Anyway, I wouldn't have been able to make the transfer for rent anyway because in order to add my landlord as a recipient, I have to get a confirmation code IN THE MAIL. After the first one they sends the codes by text message, but COME ON. If there's one thing I can't stand, it's people who makes things difficult just for the sake of being difficult.
So anyway. This holiday nonsense was all very poorly-timed because I couldn't get this important banking done yesterday. Although I'm hoping that 1. the code comes in the mail today, and 2. my landlord hasn't even bothered to check her account to make sure I sent her money. She's kind of getting on my nerves. We signed the lease at a dollar amount back in January (the equivalent of 750 euros back then) to guard against currency fluctuations. Good thing, too, cuz the dollar is in the shitter. Anyway, after I moved in she mentioned that it would be better for me to deposit euros into her account here so she could pay the bills with them. So meanwhile I set up this bank account and took almost all of my money out of my American account to put it in my French one. But now she doesn't like that the euro amount of the rent will be different every month so she wants me to send her checks for dollars in the States. Well god dammit, I'm very low on dollars and I don't even know how I would transfer money from my French account to the American one. I wonder if I can make online transfers to her American account. Gah.
So there's that as well. Today I'm also going to attempt to pick up Matt and I's bus tickets to Amsterdam. Of course, there was some sort of ridiculous service charge to have them mailed to me, so I opted to pick them up near the Sorbonne. Except they want me to print out the confirmation email and bring it to them, along with ID and the credit card I paid with. Fuck them. Printing shit out is way too expensive. I'm going to go systéme "d" with my ID, credit card, and confirmation number and convince them that it's enough. Again, they just like to make things difficult, and then you're a worthwhile human if you fight them through it.
Another fun story. My dumb ass locked my stuff into a locker at the gym without putting my keys on my belly button ring (haha). Of course I realized right away, but I decided to do my workout first before I dealt with it. Afterward I had to search all of the posters around to find the words for "lock" (une serrure) and "locker" (un casier). Luckily the verbs for locking and closing are the same word. There is a poster in the locker room about how the club accepts no responsibility for stuff being stolen from lockers, and then another one saying that we shouldn't use combo locks. So I found the words and the nice girl brought out some giant pruning shears and cut my lock off. So now I need a new one. I tried to go to Bricorama at the mall to find a new one, but no dice. I did however find some very affordable cat food in big bags, so I won't have to buy Puck the little bags at the vet's office anymore. But now I want a combo lock more than ever. I used to have a sweet purple one but I left it at Fitness USA once.
I responded to a babysitting ad on Craig's list, out of compulsion, I think. It's just for occasional work, which is good. At first I wasn't going to babysit because my job pays so well, but now that I'm doing all of this traveling I figure the more extra cash the better. Except they live in Villejuif (a suburb) and I can't figure out if it's a good neighborhood or not. Whatever, I'll go meet them during the day and we'll see. I also feel kind of awkward giving references when I haven't talked to my references since I left. I don't even know why that would worry me.
So yeah. This break has been very relaxing but at the same time I know I have stuff to work on. I have like 6 written expression assignments, an exposée on Wednesday with Keisha, plus tons of lesson planning. My plan is to make a bunch of handouts online and then print them out at work in one shot when I get back. Luckily they understand what a flash drive is. This will save me lots of money at the rip-off printer's downstairs.
One more news tidbit. Oink and TV Links were both busted during the same week. Sad time for me. I need a new music downloading service, but I think I can find another place to watch streaming TV cuz TV Links was just a list of links from other services. Still, though, the man is fucking up my life.
Monday, October 29, 2007
Ewwww
So recently there was a notice poste in d downstairs that the co-op board had hired an exterminator to come kill the mice in the building. Now I know there were no mice in my apartment, because had there been, Puck would've been all over it. Anyway, I'm not sure when he came, but the poison worked because as I left my apartment this morning to run some errands, I saw two dead, little grey mice in the stairwell. At first I wasn't sure what they were because the mice in America are brown. But there they were. So gross. I'm hoping that if they hired someone to come kill the mice, they're going to hire someone to come clean them up. I mean it's not like ants or something. If you put poison in the walls and they all die in there, they're going to decompose and smell, right? Unless this magical poison makes them all come out and die in the hallway. Ugh.
Also. Where does one recycle plastic and cans in Paris? There are a few huge, green globe things around that I thought were for general recycling, but apparently they are just for glass. As some crazy wino pointed out to me today.
Another buzzkill today came in the form of a missed package slip I received in the mail. I thought it was a package from Lauren so I was stoked to go pick it up. Alas, it was just a certified letter from my bank. Sadness. Plus it's raining like a mother fucker out there and I'm feeling less than motivated to go to Gibert Joseph now. Although it might be nice to hang out in a bookstore for a while. I really don't mind rain for the most part, especially after living in San Francisco for two years, but I still can't stand having anything to do when it's raining. I'm short and all of my pants are a little too long and when it rains they get stuck under my shoes and then soak up all of the water. I need to get some good boots that I can tuck my jeans into. Anyway, I prefer to snuggle under covers and vegetate when it's raining.
I'm actually not in a bad mood, there just seems to be a lot of stuff to complain about today.
Also. Where does one recycle plastic and cans in Paris? There are a few huge, green globe things around that I thought were for general recycling, but apparently they are just for glass. As some crazy wino pointed out to me today.
Another buzzkill today came in the form of a missed package slip I received in the mail. I thought it was a package from Lauren so I was stoked to go pick it up. Alas, it was just a certified letter from my bank. Sadness. Plus it's raining like a mother fucker out there and I'm feeling less than motivated to go to Gibert Joseph now. Although it might be nice to hang out in a bookstore for a while. I really don't mind rain for the most part, especially after living in San Francisco for two years, but I still can't stand having anything to do when it's raining. I'm short and all of my pants are a little too long and when it rains they get stuck under my shoes and then soak up all of the water. I need to get some good boots that I can tuck my jeans into. Anyway, I prefer to snuggle under covers and vegetate when it's raining.
I'm actually not in a bad mood, there just seems to be a lot of stuff to complain about today.
Saturday, October 27, 2007
Winter, or something like it
That's right, friends. I am officially freezing my arse off. The season change kind of eased in with a few cold but clear and sunny days. This sucked for me cuz I was like, "Sun! Flips fops! Yeah!" But once I got outside I realized it was about 45. It's the worst in the mornings when I work, because it's about a ten minute walk from the train station to the school. . .in the pitch black, of course.
I feel completely wrecked from this week. I spent two days glued to the news, missed four straight days at the gym. Just not great decision-making all around. Yesterday I went to work in the morning to make up for some of hours I missed during the metro strike. As soon as my phone started vibrating at 6 am, my entire body just seized in pain. 6 am is an ungodly hour and should never be attempted two days in a row. But I dragged myself to Marly, did two really good classes, and got the hell out of there. Although since it was about 10:15 when I got to the train station, I had to wait until 10:40 for the next one. Anyway, I wrote the proposal for my TA-ship last, last minute, then napped and gymmed and did the regular Friday night stuff.
So now I'm sort of on vacation until next Thursday. I don't have work, my MICEFA classes were canceled this week, so it's just one on Tuesday and one on Thursday. I have no idea what to do with myself. I'm going to make a trip to Gibert Joseph to buy some books for class. I'll do some hardcore lesson planning. But what I really want to do is go to Disneyland. It's decked out for Halloween until November 4. And they have some kind of second park, Walt Disney Studios or something? I assume it's akin to MGM Studios at Disneyworld, with all the behind-the-scenes kind of stuff.
Every time I see the Halloween Disneyland ads in the metro, I get really homesick. There are plenty of reminders of America here, like McDonald's and The Body Shop and Starbucks, but Disneyland dressed up for Halloween combines two of the best things about America, that I actually take part in gladly. I taught Halloween to the kids this week, complete with candy and paper jack-o-lanterns. I explained trick-or-treating and pumpkin carving in French so that they would understand. Apparently Halloween was a big fad a few years ago but has since died out. I'm sure the French marketing machine couldn't keep up. Selling Halloween involves giant bags of fun-size candy bars and shitty made-in-China costumes and accessories in Rite Aid by the beginning of September. Large bags of candy, cheap Chinese products, and Rite Aid all don't exist here. Monoprix barly resembles an American drugstore. Poor kids.
Next on the list for American culture lessons are baseball and Thanksgiving. Of course there will be obligatory hand-turkeys. I wonder if I can find a mitt in France?
I feel completely wrecked from this week. I spent two days glued to the news, missed four straight days at the gym. Just not great decision-making all around. Yesterday I went to work in the morning to make up for some of hours I missed during the metro strike. As soon as my phone started vibrating at 6 am, my entire body just seized in pain. 6 am is an ungodly hour and should never be attempted two days in a row. But I dragged myself to Marly, did two really good classes, and got the hell out of there. Although since it was about 10:15 when I got to the train station, I had to wait until 10:40 for the next one. Anyway, I wrote the proposal for my TA-ship last, last minute, then napped and gymmed and did the regular Friday night stuff.
So now I'm sort of on vacation until next Thursday. I don't have work, my MICEFA classes were canceled this week, so it's just one on Tuesday and one on Thursday. I have no idea what to do with myself. I'm going to make a trip to Gibert Joseph to buy some books for class. I'll do some hardcore lesson planning. But what I really want to do is go to Disneyland. It's decked out for Halloween until November 4. And they have some kind of second park, Walt Disney Studios or something? I assume it's akin to MGM Studios at Disneyworld, with all the behind-the-scenes kind of stuff.
Every time I see the Halloween Disneyland ads in the metro, I get really homesick. There are plenty of reminders of America here, like McDonald's and The Body Shop and Starbucks, but Disneyland dressed up for Halloween combines two of the best things about America, that I actually take part in gladly. I taught Halloween to the kids this week, complete with candy and paper jack-o-lanterns. I explained trick-or-treating and pumpkin carving in French so that they would understand. Apparently Halloween was a big fad a few years ago but has since died out. I'm sure the French marketing machine couldn't keep up. Selling Halloween involves giant bags of fun-size candy bars and shitty made-in-China costumes and accessories in Rite Aid by the beginning of September. Large bags of candy, cheap Chinese products, and Rite Aid all don't exist here. Monoprix barly resembles an American drugstore. Poor kids.
Next on the list for American culture lessons are baseball and Thanksgiving. Of course there will be obligatory hand-turkeys. I wonder if I can find a mitt in France?
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
Keep on swimming
So I went and opened my account an hour ago. And didn't even need to prove anything that I thought I would. No carte de séjour required. Just my student card and my passport. So I waited all of this time for basically nothing. Whatever. Anyway, the agent asked me where I was born and she mentioned the fires and said she hoped everything would be okay. The French are so informed it's amazing. In America you wouldn't even know that something besides Malibu was burning. Anyway, I've got to get back to the rest of my day and do something productive.
Channel 10 is streaming the news here: http://www.10news.com/video/14036255/index.html
Channel 10 is streaming the news here: http://www.10news.com/video/14036255/index.html
Monday, October 22, 2007
Bogus, bonkers, and creinous
Well the biggest news of the day is that San Diego is up in flames. Again. Four years to the day, practically. Except this time the fire is closing in on Carmel Valley. The ironic thing is that my house is sold and my mom and brother are in Washington, DC while my mom attends a conference. My entire childhood is already packed up and ready to go, but sitting in boxes with no one to rescue it. So we'll see how it goes. I've been checking signonsandiego.com and listening to their radio stream but there are so many places burning that they barely get into the coastal communities. As far as I know there are lots of voluntary evacuations and a good deal of mandatory ones, but they're all for the sake of being overly cautious because of what happened last time. It's hard to even identify the nearest fire by name (I think it's the Witch).
The rest of today was actually going rather well until I got home. It was another long day at work, but there was some fun. My oldest class went totally batshit because their teacher left them alone with me for the first time. That woman is just such a bitch I'm sure they couldn't believe their luck. The funny thing is that I don't even care if they make noise. I don't even care if they don't learn anything. They know that their teacher is going to come back and kick their asses if they don't shut up. My last class was sort of canceled because of a family emergency so I went over to Champion to buy some envelopes and the large amount of cheap candy to give out when I teach Halloween on Thursday. I used to think that Christmas started early in America. Right after Halloween, maybe mixed in with a cornucopia and a paper turkey. But I went into the grocery store today and voila, chocolate Santas. Shit son. Another down side of the lack of Halloween here is the severe lack of large bags of fun size candy. There are fun size boxes of Smarties, but they come about 20 to a bag for 2,57 euro a bag. And I have about 170 students. Needless to say I can't afford that. So I bought four bags of fruity candies with about 60 pieces each. Maybe the good classes will get two candies each. I'm excited to use Halloween to start teaching them about our hyper-commercialized, consumer culture.
The rest of today was actually going rather well until I got home. It was another long day at work, but there was some fun. My oldest class went totally batshit because their teacher left them alone with me for the first time. That woman is just such a bitch I'm sure they couldn't believe their luck. The funny thing is that I don't even care if they make noise. I don't even care if they don't learn anything. They know that their teacher is going to come back and kick their asses if they don't shut up. My last class was sort of canceled because of a family emergency so I went over to Champion to buy some envelopes and the large amount of cheap candy to give out when I teach Halloween on Thursday. I used to think that Christmas started early in America. Right after Halloween, maybe mixed in with a cornucopia and a paper turkey. But I went into the grocery store today and voila, chocolate Santas. Shit son. Another down side of the lack of Halloween here is the severe lack of large bags of fun size candy. There are fun size boxes of Smarties, but they come about 20 to a bag for 2,57 euro a bag. And I have about 170 students. Needless to say I can't afford that. So I bought four bags of fruity candies with about 60 pieces each. Maybe the good classes will get two candies each. I'm excited to use Halloween to start teaching them about our hyper-commercialized, consumer culture.
Sunday, October 21, 2007
Fuck this fax machine
So fax machines are ghetto and practically useless to begin with. But you know, sometimes they come in handy (for photocopying, or printing from my computer) so I'm glad I have one in my apartment. But the chick who bought this one last year cheaped out and bought the ghettoest model that requires thermal-transfer ink and special thin fax paper. WTF. And what's better is that neither of these things were in the apartment when I got it so through trial and error I've had to figure out where this shit is even available. And I don't think I can send faxes to the US which is just totally pointless. There is a copy store downstairs I've been going to but it's a rip off and I kind of said that to the guy who works there so I don't really want to go back. Basically I printed something off of my jump drive and he charged me as if I'd used the internet for five minutes while I was futzing with Windows. Douche bag. So now I'm determined to figure out this fax machine and just send print jobs to it from my computer so I can stop bothering with the printing store. And I still have access to big, laser-jet Xerox machines at work.
In other news, I went into the bank yesterday and of course I had to make an appointment for a pre-arranged time.. Those tricksy French! Perhaps the idea is that I will feel special because the one-on-one time an agent has spent with me to open this account -- but I am American and I want it and I want it now and why can't I just walk in and get it? That's the way it went when I opened my US bank account anyway. Whaaaaatever. Tuesday morning I will present myself at the BNP Paribas between the Pantheon and the Eiffel Tower and I will suck it up. And then I will present all 93475904 papers proving my student and job status even though I don't have a carte de séjour. Unfortunately the paperwork that says my card is in process hasn't come in yet. But I suppose there's always tomorrow for that.
This morning I forced myself to wake up as soon as I first opened my eyes. I usually wake up early and turn over and sleep until 11 am, but I need to get myself tired to enough to go to bed at 10. So ridiculous. But it's not very practical to get on that kind of schedule for every night. I mean if I was waking up at 6 on class days I would be miserable.
(Side note: one of my neighbors is cooking green beans or something and totally stinking up my apartment. Fack)
Also, travel plans are about 80% done. The main forms of transportation to each city are arranged, plus the hostel in Amsterdam and the bus to get us from Stansted airport to London. Left to be arranged transportation from London back to Stansted, and the shuttle that will get me from Beauvais airport back home to Paris. Oh and Barcelona hotel and a cat sitter. Man this is going to be epic. I've been looking at apartment rentals in Barcelona because it's four nights and there's four of us and it's nicer than a shitty hotel room. Plus I like the idea of having a kitchen and a washing machine (as I'm packing very lightly for an 11-day trip and I will probably run out of clean shirts). We'll see how it goes.
In a perfect world, I would get my bank account on Tuesday and be able to send in paperwork to the Ministry of Education to get paid right away. Then I would be able to put most of that money toward my mounting credit card bill. And I would be able to put back all of the rent money I've been borrowing to pay for my gym membership and my metro pass (which hasn't arrived yet gah).
I really cannot wait to be settled.
In other news, I went into the bank yesterday and of course I had to make an appointment for a pre-arranged time.. Those tricksy French! Perhaps the idea is that I will feel special because the one-on-one time an agent has spent with me to open this account -- but I am American and I want it and I want it now and why can't I just walk in and get it? That's the way it went when I opened my US bank account anyway. Whaaaaatever. Tuesday morning I will present myself at the BNP Paribas between the Pantheon and the Eiffel Tower and I will suck it up. And then I will present all 93475904 papers proving my student and job status even though I don't have a carte de séjour. Unfortunately the paperwork that says my card is in process hasn't come in yet. But I suppose there's always tomorrow for that.
This morning I forced myself to wake up as soon as I first opened my eyes. I usually wake up early and turn over and sleep until 11 am, but I need to get myself tired to enough to go to bed at 10. So ridiculous. But it's not very practical to get on that kind of schedule for every night. I mean if I was waking up at 6 on class days I would be miserable.
(Side note: one of my neighbors is cooking green beans or something and totally stinking up my apartment. Fack)
Also, travel plans are about 80% done. The main forms of transportation to each city are arranged, plus the hostel in Amsterdam and the bus to get us from Stansted airport to London. Left to be arranged transportation from London back to Stansted, and the shuttle that will get me from Beauvais airport back home to Paris. Oh and Barcelona hotel and a cat sitter. Man this is going to be epic. I've been looking at apartment rentals in Barcelona because it's four nights and there's four of us and it's nicer than a shitty hotel room. Plus I like the idea of having a kitchen and a washing machine (as I'm packing very lightly for an 11-day trip and I will probably run out of clean shirts). We'll see how it goes.
In a perfect world, I would get my bank account on Tuesday and be able to send in paperwork to the Ministry of Education to get paid right away. Then I would be able to put most of that money toward my mounting credit card bill. And I would be able to put back all of the rent money I've been borrowing to pay for my gym membership and my metro pass (which hasn't arrived yet gah).
I really cannot wait to be settled.
Friday, October 19, 2007
Système "D"
I love the feeling of exhilaration when shit gets done. It's a nice contrast to yesterday, when laziness and a lack of transportation prompted me to stay home and do pretty much nothing all day. Luckily, yesterday was a mess of travel plans and bookings and research, so technically I do have something to show for it. Matt and I are in the final stages of our winter break travel plans. So far they look like this:
December 17 - 26: Matt is in Paris, staying with Stephanie and maybe myself as well.
December 27 - December 29: Amsterdam. We still have to book the bus and the hostel, but I'm pretty sure this will happen.
December 26 - January 2: London. Originally we were going to go to London from Paris, so now we have to switch the tickets to leave from Amsterdam. And here supposedly we're staying with friends.
January 2 - January 6: Barcelona. Originally it was supposed to be Berlin, but I'm actually excited to maybe have some sun and to see the Mediterranean for the first time. Plus Matt is fluent in Spanish and neither of us speaks German, so getting around there is preferable to Berlin.
I have all of these damn breaks and they're all inconvenient. Basically, I have a week off every six weeks for both work and school, but only twice (first week of March and last two weeks of April) do these coincide. Otherwise I have lots of time when I have no school or no work. I guess it's good for everyday life, but not for traveling. So perhaps there will be some long weekends. I would like one of these to be in an apartment in the South of France. Who's down? There's also the issue of my two week spring break, which of course does not coincide with Matt's or Lauren's. Although I think I'll spend some of it in Rome. I'd really also like to go to Greece, but I can't seem to find a good way to get there. Trains are just totally expensive and the cheap airlines aren't completely comprehensive. I would very much like to see Venice as well. Matt and I got really cheap tickets to Barcelona because of a Ryan Air sale, so maybe they'll do another one when I've got a better idea of where I want to go and who wants to go with me.
In other news, I had an advising meeting at MICEFA today to map out my course equivalents at SFSU. History of Paris, History of Franco-American Relations, and my job all sailed through, but my oral and written expression classes were iffy. Although I have taken three upper division French classes at home and received two B's and an A in them, and I got a B+ in the advanced preparation program, I tested into level 2 at Nanterre. Frankly, the test was in a strange format and not very symbolic. PLUS, when signing up for classes, we either sat down with a male or female adviser in the little office. The male encouraged people to sign up for more advanced courses, while the female told us we were stuck with what we got. So fine. I'm in level 2, which technically is upper division according to our student guide. Anyway, Rosalie agreed with me and wrote down upper division credits. I'll switch into level 3 at the semester.
Next order of the day is to attempt opening a bank account. The bank I want has a special expatriate account where you make an appointment with and English-speaking agent, but it takes forever for them to confirm the appointment online. My idea is to show up with all my crap and ask. Only problem is there aren't really any account-opening guidelines on the website, so I don't know how much money I need to open it, or in what form. Hopefully I can just use cash. I don't think I can write an American check. Whatever, I need this so I can get paid, folks. I'm putting all of these travel expenses on my credit card so I can pay them off when I get paid. I'd like to do that all at once.
December 17 - 26: Matt is in Paris, staying with Stephanie and maybe myself as well.
December 27 - December 29: Amsterdam. We still have to book the bus and the hostel, but I'm pretty sure this will happen.
December 26 - January 2: London. Originally we were going to go to London from Paris, so now we have to switch the tickets to leave from Amsterdam. And here supposedly we're staying with friends.
January 2 - January 6: Barcelona. Originally it was supposed to be Berlin, but I'm actually excited to maybe have some sun and to see the Mediterranean for the first time. Plus Matt is fluent in Spanish and neither of us speaks German, so getting around there is preferable to Berlin.
I have all of these damn breaks and they're all inconvenient. Basically, I have a week off every six weeks for both work and school, but only twice (first week of March and last two weeks of April) do these coincide. Otherwise I have lots of time when I have no school or no work. I guess it's good for everyday life, but not for traveling. So perhaps there will be some long weekends. I would like one of these to be in an apartment in the South of France. Who's down? There's also the issue of my two week spring break, which of course does not coincide with Matt's or Lauren's. Although I think I'll spend some of it in Rome. I'd really also like to go to Greece, but I can't seem to find a good way to get there. Trains are just totally expensive and the cheap airlines aren't completely comprehensive. I would very much like to see Venice as well. Matt and I got really cheap tickets to Barcelona because of a Ryan Air sale, so maybe they'll do another one when I've got a better idea of where I want to go and who wants to go with me.
In other news, I had an advising meeting at MICEFA today to map out my course equivalents at SFSU. History of Paris, History of Franco-American Relations, and my job all sailed through, but my oral and written expression classes were iffy. Although I have taken three upper division French classes at home and received two B's and an A in them, and I got a B+ in the advanced preparation program, I tested into level 2 at Nanterre. Frankly, the test was in a strange format and not very symbolic. PLUS, when signing up for classes, we either sat down with a male or female adviser in the little office. The male encouraged people to sign up for more advanced courses, while the female told us we were stuck with what we got. So fine. I'm in level 2, which technically is upper division according to our student guide. Anyway, Rosalie agreed with me and wrote down upper division credits. I'll switch into level 3 at the semester.
Next order of the day is to attempt opening a bank account. The bank I want has a special expatriate account where you make an appointment with and English-speaking agent, but it takes forever for them to confirm the appointment online. My idea is to show up with all my crap and ask. Only problem is there aren't really any account-opening guidelines on the website, so I don't know how much money I need to open it, or in what form. Hopefully I can just use cash. I don't think I can write an American check. Whatever, I need this so I can get paid, folks. I'm putting all of these travel expenses on my credit card so I can pay them off when I get paid. I'd like to do that all at once.
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
The gods have smiled on me?
So new announcement from the SNCF: no trains tomorrow. Good thing I couldn't get through to the cab company before I checked my email. So no work, hopefully I can make up the day next Friday. And no class tomorrow evening either. Sooo I'm not sure how I feel about that. I guess it will be a very French experience, cuz those toad suckers love a good strike. Well, I will lesson plan, maybe hit up the bank and beg for an account. And I'll almost certainly be walking to the gym. Holy christ, parish the thought. However, it is doable with a good night's sleep and proper nutrition. So there you have it. In the meantime I'll be catching up on my downloaded TV shows.
La Grève, and other happenings
Well three days into my first full-force week in Paris, and I'm not gonna lie, it's too much. But such is life and I will adjust. Teaching on Monday went really well. Obviously, the easiness of teaching is in direct proportion to how well I prepare. The tricky part is my A. lack of printer/photocopier and B. laziness. I can make lesson plans at home, but then it is a pain in the ass to go to the print shop and pay for photocopies and printing. Or I can lesson plan during my lunch break at school, but then I'm only half-way through the day and I can't prepare a lesson plan for the classes I haven't yet had. So. There you go. Anyway, tomorrow is the last day of instruction I'm doing for a while, cuz Monday is review day and on Thursday I'm doing Halloween day. I suppose I should ask the teachers if they mind if I give their students candy, right? Hopefully they don't say no, because honestly there is just no point without candy. Other than that, there will be vocab and maybe mask-making.
Tuesday I had my first class at Nanterre, a written expression class with a hard-ass French professor. Fun is not the word I would use, but hopefully I'll learn something useful. I also forced myself to work out in the morning so I could get it out of the way. In the evening was a big, three-course group dinner with the MICEFA peeps. It was all very French. And I ate veal, guys. It was sad. It tasted like pot roast. But honestly, it was pretty bland overall. So I have discovered a French dish that I'm kinda like "ehhhh" about. Oh and we were too busy being loud Americans in the metro to board the train in a timely manner, so I got my purse stuck in the doors. It was pretty much hilarious. Nothing fell out or anything, we just waited until the next stop and it was free.
Today was a fun-filled trip to the Hotel Dieu (a medieval hospital which, I was shocked to learn, is still functioning. In fact we saw some poor guy being wheeled into surgery on a gurney). I was basically trippin' today because I had class this morning, a short break to get some work done, then three more hours of class, then the gym and sleep. Plus somewhere in there I needed to go to Office Depot to buy notebooks and find somewhere to get cat food. I really don't think there's anything here akin to Petco, and the only real pet stores I know of are a metro ride away, which is not so convenient. There is an organic supermarket nearby that I checked, but no such luck. So I bought Puckleberry some super expensive food at a vet's office, because so far that's the only place I have found that sells quality cat food.
So there is a huge transportation strike tomorrow, and the inspector of the academy where I work sent me an email today saying that I should ditch tomorrow and I can make up the day another time. Yeah fuckin' right. My only free day is Friday and like hell I'm doing two days back-to-back. So when I go to work, I take two metros and the train. Well the train I take is not striking, and one of the metro lines doesn't have drivers and so doesn't strike. So that leaves the problem of getting to Chatelet, so I'm just going to take a cab. I sent all of this to my boss and she didn't get back to me, so whatever. I'll try to go and if I make it, then bien. If not, I'll suck it up. But I'm pretty sure it's all good. Oh and my Thursday night class was canceled because of the strike, so tomorrow might not be so tough.
Tuesday I had my first class at Nanterre, a written expression class with a hard-ass French professor. Fun is not the word I would use, but hopefully I'll learn something useful. I also forced myself to work out in the morning so I could get it out of the way. In the evening was a big, three-course group dinner with the MICEFA peeps. It was all very French. And I ate veal, guys. It was sad. It tasted like pot roast. But honestly, it was pretty bland overall. So I have discovered a French dish that I'm kinda like "ehhhh" about. Oh and we were too busy being loud Americans in the metro to board the train in a timely manner, so I got my purse stuck in the doors. It was pretty much hilarious. Nothing fell out or anything, we just waited until the next stop and it was free.
Today was a fun-filled trip to the Hotel Dieu (a medieval hospital which, I was shocked to learn, is still functioning. In fact we saw some poor guy being wheeled into surgery on a gurney). I was basically trippin' today because I had class this morning, a short break to get some work done, then three more hours of class, then the gym and sleep. Plus somewhere in there I needed to go to Office Depot to buy notebooks and find somewhere to get cat food. I really don't think there's anything here akin to Petco, and the only real pet stores I know of are a metro ride away, which is not so convenient. There is an organic supermarket nearby that I checked, but no such luck. So I bought Puckleberry some super expensive food at a vet's office, because so far that's the only place I have found that sells quality cat food.
So there is a huge transportation strike tomorrow, and the inspector of the academy where I work sent me an email today saying that I should ditch tomorrow and I can make up the day another time. Yeah fuckin' right. My only free day is Friday and like hell I'm doing two days back-to-back. So when I go to work, I take two metros and the train. Well the train I take is not striking, and one of the metro lines doesn't have drivers and so doesn't strike. So that leaves the problem of getting to Chatelet, so I'm just going to take a cab. I sent all of this to my boss and she didn't get back to me, so whatever. I'll try to go and if I make it, then bien. If not, I'll suck it up. But I'm pretty sure it's all good. Oh and my Thursday night class was canceled because of the strike, so tomorrow might not be so tough.
Saturday, October 13, 2007
Yayyyyyyyy
So, my friends, last night I went to the gym for the first time in exactly. . .(wait for it). . .45 days. That is more than four times the longest amount of time I had gone without working out in over three years. Basically, it was atrocious and I'm so glad it's over. In addition, I am in love with my gym I think. It's not absolutely perfect because they don't have Precor ellipticals (stop snickering), but they have nice, sorta new Life Fitness cardio machines, and like 200 new Life Fitness weight machines. The other issue is that they don't have a stretching/floorwork area, but I'm sort of used to it after two years at the highway-robbery scam that is Fitness USA. Anyway, I just staked out a little spot on the floor in the weight room. I feel weird taking my shoes off to stretch because the French have weird ideas about hygiene (Speedo mandatory in the pool, toilet seat covers not) and I don't want to offend anyone. The elliptical they have is kind of awkward and on a weird axis or whatever, but I made it work. Oh and there was the conundrum of lockers. I bought this itty bitty key-padlock cuz I couldn't find a combo one when I was shopping. So then there's an itty bitty key on and itty bitty keychain. So where do I keep the key when I'm working out. I couldn't put it in my shirt because it would fall if I moved too much, and I didn't have the forethought to put it on a safety pin or something. So what did I do? I attached the itty bitty key chain to my belly button ring. Har. Perfect storage spot.
So, other than that, it is the weekend again and I have some time to breathe. But not too much because I need to figure out what xeroxing needs to be done for my job this week while the printing store is still open. And maybe figure out why I can't send a fax on my fax machine. Fax machines are so dumb, especially this ghetto piece of shit. Anyway, I'm going to post something on These Words now, so go look over there.
So, other than that, it is the weekend again and I have some time to breathe. But not too much because I need to figure out what xeroxing needs to be done for my job this week while the printing store is still open. And maybe figure out why I can't send a fax on my fax machine. Fax machines are so dumb, especially this ghetto piece of shit. Anyway, I'm going to post something on These Words now, so go look over there.
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
It's all coming together
Today I had my first day of class. Granted it is a MICEFA class and takes place in the same building where I had my immersion classes, but there was a lecture and I took notes and it was real. We also had a small field trip over to Les Arènes de Lutece, the fun little Roman arena where I watched Some Like it Hot a while ago. Anyway, we saw that, then went over to my neighborhood, where there are the last few visible spots of a wall that surrounded Paris in the 7th century. Pretty sweet. The class is "History of Paris," so there will be lots of these little field trips. I think it's gonna be rather easy. A higher level French is required for the class that starts tomorrow, History of Franco-American relations. That is just going to be balls because after 8 hours at the elementary schools, I have to catch the 4:42 train to St. Lazare, then metro over to the Sorbonne for class at 6. Thursday is just going to be a heinous day. Next week I start my grammar classes (blah).
On the front of exercise, I may have found a solution (I know, it's like my 9798475th idea). Anyway, I went to Paris 7 yesterday to check out the sports complex. That entire campus seriously looks like a prison. It was so cold and metallic and scary. I saw the weight room and such, but France is fuckin bizarre and I can only use the work out rooms if I take the classes. So I have to take the cardio class twice a week or whatnot in order to use the machines. What a load. So after I escaped from St. Quentin I went home and made a last ditch effort to find a private gym online. I went back to the Club Med Gym website, which I had initially overlooked because none of the clubs are in walking distance. Well, one is a 4 minute metro ride away, so I figure it's worth a shot. I just plunked down $700 for that metro pass so I might as well use it, right? I'm going to check it out this afternoon. Another shitty thing about France is that everything has to be paid up front, so I assume I'll have to do another two-part ATM withdrawal in order to get this gym membership. So ridonkulous. There's another fancy gym sort of nearby but not very accessible by foot or metro. I made an appointment to check it out on Saturday, so if worse comes to worst, I get a free workout.
And now for something completely different. Lesson planning sucks ass. I have 6 classes, with kids who have about three different levels of English. So I've resigned myself to making three different lesson plans. So gross. So that is my homework tonight, I will go to bed at the ungodly hour of 10, wake up at the even more ungodly hour of 6 am, and pray that the fucking train comes.
On the front of exercise, I may have found a solution (I know, it's like my 9798475th idea). Anyway, I went to Paris 7 yesterday to check out the sports complex. That entire campus seriously looks like a prison. It was so cold and metallic and scary. I saw the weight room and such, but France is fuckin bizarre and I can only use the work out rooms if I take the classes. So I have to take the cardio class twice a week or whatnot in order to use the machines. What a load. So after I escaped from St. Quentin I went home and made a last ditch effort to find a private gym online. I went back to the Club Med Gym website, which I had initially overlooked because none of the clubs are in walking distance. Well, one is a 4 minute metro ride away, so I figure it's worth a shot. I just plunked down $700 for that metro pass so I might as well use it, right? I'm going to check it out this afternoon. Another shitty thing about France is that everything has to be paid up front, so I assume I'll have to do another two-part ATM withdrawal in order to get this gym membership. So ridonkulous. There's another fancy gym sort of nearby but not very accessible by foot or metro. I made an appointment to check it out on Saturday, so if worse comes to worst, I get a free workout.
And now for something completely different. Lesson planning sucks ass. I have 6 classes, with kids who have about three different levels of English. So I've resigned myself to making three different lesson plans. So gross. So that is my homework tonight, I will go to bed at the ungodly hour of 10, wake up at the even more ungodly hour of 6 am, and pray that the fucking train comes.
Monday, October 8, 2007
Sometimes my life is like a movie
Whether one crazy roommate is throwing my food out the window, or I'm suing another in small claims court. This morning was like some sort of situational irony where two simple mishaps just screwed me over.
So. I did manage to get to bed at 10:30 last night, giving me approximately 7.5 hours to sleep, minus the usual tossing and turning. Nevermind the fact that Puck fell in a box at 5:30 and I didn't get back to sleep (don't ask). So this morning, I had a plan. A good one. Here's the back-story. I need to get my carte Imagine-R. It is the student metro card, it is cool, blah blah. In order to get it, I must get a money order for 547 euros and send it in with my application. Because I am picky (and stupid), I don't yet have a French bank account. I could get one with Societé Générale sans carte de séjour, but what would be the fun in that. Anyway, so in order to have 547 euros in cash, I must withdraw it from my Bank of America account. Over two separate days, of course, because there is a $500 withdrawal limit per day. No prob. I got out 250 yesterday, I was going to get out another 300 this morning. And then I would go to the post office during my lunch break. Well, this $500 a day rule applies to each American day, as I've learned. So I withdrew 250 euros yesterday at approximately 2 am PST. And when I went to withdraw more this morning, it was technically 11 pm PST. Fuckin' A. I tried twice for good measure, then moved on with my life.
Unforunately, that extra five minutes on my day set into motion a dire chain of events. I was at the ATM, so I missed the 7:03 metro. I had to wait, and thus arrived on the platform at Gare St. Lazare just in time to miss the 7:18 train. No big deal, another one comes at 7:33, which will get my to Marly-le-roi at exactly 8:05, 25 minutes before my first class. But the 7:33 train never came. At 8:15, a train pulled up to the platform. I was ecstatic and rushed on. I would be late, but I would make it in time to teach something that first class. About 15 minutes into the trip, past the point where I could've changed trains, I realized that my train was heading in the wrong direction. I am still not clear how this happened, because each platform receives only one direction of trains. So I was like, "fuuuuuuuuuuuuuck." But at least I knew that I wasn't too far from Marly, so I exited the train at Versailles Rive Droite and frantically searched the bus map for the line to Marly. No such luck, it's too far north. But, this bus line would take me to La Celle St. Cloud, a train station on the line to Marly. So I took the bus all the way to the fuckin' end, then waited ten more minutes for a train that then took ten more minutes to get to Marly. By the time I had hoofed it to my first school, I had just enough time to apologize to some faculty before I ran off to St. Exupéry. Sorry kids, we'll have to pick it up on Thursday.
So. I did manage to get to bed at 10:30 last night, giving me approximately 7.5 hours to sleep, minus the usual tossing and turning. Nevermind the fact that Puck fell in a box at 5:30 and I didn't get back to sleep (don't ask). So this morning, I had a plan. A good one. Here's the back-story. I need to get my carte Imagine-R. It is the student metro card, it is cool, blah blah. In order to get it, I must get a money order for 547 euros and send it in with my application. Because I am picky (and stupid), I don't yet have a French bank account. I could get one with Societé Générale sans carte de séjour, but what would be the fun in that. Anyway, so in order to have 547 euros in cash, I must withdraw it from my Bank of America account. Over two separate days, of course, because there is a $500 withdrawal limit per day. No prob. I got out 250 yesterday, I was going to get out another 300 this morning. And then I would go to the post office during my lunch break. Well, this $500 a day rule applies to each American day, as I've learned. So I withdrew 250 euros yesterday at approximately 2 am PST. And when I went to withdraw more this morning, it was technically 11 pm PST. Fuckin' A. I tried twice for good measure, then moved on with my life.
Unforunately, that extra five minutes on my day set into motion a dire chain of events. I was at the ATM, so I missed the 7:03 metro. I had to wait, and thus arrived on the platform at Gare St. Lazare just in time to miss the 7:18 train. No big deal, another one comes at 7:33, which will get my to Marly-le-roi at exactly 8:05, 25 minutes before my first class. But the 7:33 train never came. At 8:15, a train pulled up to the platform. I was ecstatic and rushed on. I would be late, but I would make it in time to teach something that first class. About 15 minutes into the trip, past the point where I could've changed trains, I realized that my train was heading in the wrong direction. I am still not clear how this happened, because each platform receives only one direction of trains. So I was like, "fuuuuuuuuuuuuuck." But at least I knew that I wasn't too far from Marly, so I exited the train at Versailles Rive Droite and frantically searched the bus map for the line to Marly. No such luck, it's too far north. But, this bus line would take me to La Celle St. Cloud, a train station on the line to Marly. So I took the bus all the way to the fuckin' end, then waited ten more minutes for a train that then took ten more minutes to get to Marly. By the time I had hoofed it to my first school, I had just enough time to apologize to some faculty before I ran off to St. Exupéry. Sorry kids, we'll have to pick it up on Thursday.
Saturday, October 6, 2007
Titles are hard
It is Saturday morning and I am savoring the ability to sleep in and do almost nothing, more than I have in months. I'm glad that I had the entire month of September to essentially fuck around, because shit is about kick into high gear.
Tuesday was heinous. The RATP website (the transit authority for Paris) was down on Monday night and so I couldn't make an itinerary for getting to orientation. I decided it couldn't take more than half an hour on the RER and planned accordingly. Man I was wrong. I spent an hour on the RER, then another half hour on the bus. The main office for the Academy of Versailles, department of Yvelines, is in the middle of NO WHERE. In a giant shopping mall. So ridiculous. So basically I was an hour late. The orientation itself was basically pointless. I mean I signed legal papers and got paperwork for direct depositing my paychecks, but the teaching tips were bullshit. Afterward I was so tired and frustrated that I bought myself a giant chocolate macaron and braved the commute home.
On Wednesday I had to go to the post office to pick up my missed package from Darty (toaster oven and hot pot). Of course the two relatively small items were packed into a giant box with a bunch of padding. There was a big blue string-like thing tied around it, so I used that to carry it home. I must have looked so dumb. Then I mounted the giant box on the banister in my stairwell and pushed it up three flights. It was totally bonkers. I am still sore from the ordeal. That afternoon I officially turned in everything for my carte de séjour, so now I have to wait for approval so I can go get a medical check up. Keisha already had hers and apparently they tried to ask for her vaccination records. The French are all about outlining the rules and then throwing in some extra stuff when you're all ready to go. Luckily most of this extraneous crap is just a power trip and not really essential. Anyway, Keisha also had some sort of torso x-ray done. I understand that they want us to be healthy so they won't have to take care of us in case some pre-existing condition makes us sick, but honestly what was going to be on that x-ray? A baby? I don't think cancer shows up on your average x-ray. Whatever.
Thursday was my first day of teaching. I was up at 6 am and on the 7:18 train leaving from St. Lazare. So bogus. The schools are fine, so are the kids, but I'm frustrated with the administrators. There are just no teaching guidelines, no materials, no way to find out what their English teachers are teaching so I can supplement it. So I will wing it. Luckily I'm not responsible for testing or grading, just for getting them to speak. So that is what I will do. After teaching my first CE2 class (8 year olds), I was so frustrated I just wanted to leave. I don't understand why they want me to teach a conversation class to kids who have maybe a month's worth of English in their brains. They're not conversational, duh.
Anyway, I managed to overcome the hopelessness by the end of the day. The kids are great for the most part. They're very chatty but I think it bothers their teachers more than it bothers me. Their teachers want them to shut up all the time and honestly, I only need silence when I'm talking or I'm calling on someone. I remember quite vividly what it's like to be a kid, and even more vividly what is was like to learn a foreign language for the first time (although I honestly can't remember about much English Mme. Butler used -- the two languages have melted together in my mind).
Anyway, I survived that day and dragged my tired ass home. Friday was another Nanterre-marathon day. I got two of the classes I wanted, but one is too full so it looks like I'll be in two MICEFA classes (History of Paris and History of Franco-American Relations). Oh well. Keisha, Lucia, and I also stopped by the sports complex to get the schedule of classes and such. Next week I'll get my SUAPS card (they LOVE their acronyms here) and then I'll try to fit stuff in around my class schedule. I also need to stop by Paris 7 to check out their schedule and sign up procedure. Their website says I need a medical exam, but Paris X doesn't, so who knows. I'll have two classes starting this week with MICEFA, but my Nanterre classes won't start until the week after.
I stayed up way too late last night and now I'm afraid I've screwed myself for waking up at 6 am on Monday. Ugh, it is so painful. Today I'm going to take it easy, do laundry, maybe go out tonight? And tomorrow will be lesson-planning day. Gah. Luckily class periods are only about 35 minutes, so I don't have to fill up the time with much.
Tuesday was heinous. The RATP website (the transit authority for Paris) was down on Monday night and so I couldn't make an itinerary for getting to orientation. I decided it couldn't take more than half an hour on the RER and planned accordingly. Man I was wrong. I spent an hour on the RER, then another half hour on the bus. The main office for the Academy of Versailles, department of Yvelines, is in the middle of NO WHERE. In a giant shopping mall. So ridiculous. So basically I was an hour late. The orientation itself was basically pointless. I mean I signed legal papers and got paperwork for direct depositing my paychecks, but the teaching tips were bullshit. Afterward I was so tired and frustrated that I bought myself a giant chocolate macaron and braved the commute home.
On Wednesday I had to go to the post office to pick up my missed package from Darty (toaster oven and hot pot). Of course the two relatively small items were packed into a giant box with a bunch of padding. There was a big blue string-like thing tied around it, so I used that to carry it home. I must have looked so dumb. Then I mounted the giant box on the banister in my stairwell and pushed it up three flights. It was totally bonkers. I am still sore from the ordeal. That afternoon I officially turned in everything for my carte de séjour, so now I have to wait for approval so I can go get a medical check up. Keisha already had hers and apparently they tried to ask for her vaccination records. The French are all about outlining the rules and then throwing in some extra stuff when you're all ready to go. Luckily most of this extraneous crap is just a power trip and not really essential. Anyway, Keisha also had some sort of torso x-ray done. I understand that they want us to be healthy so they won't have to take care of us in case some pre-existing condition makes us sick, but honestly what was going to be on that x-ray? A baby? I don't think cancer shows up on your average x-ray. Whatever.
Thursday was my first day of teaching. I was up at 6 am and on the 7:18 train leaving from St. Lazare. So bogus. The schools are fine, so are the kids, but I'm frustrated with the administrators. There are just no teaching guidelines, no materials, no way to find out what their English teachers are teaching so I can supplement it. So I will wing it. Luckily I'm not responsible for testing or grading, just for getting them to speak. So that is what I will do. After teaching my first CE2 class (8 year olds), I was so frustrated I just wanted to leave. I don't understand why they want me to teach a conversation class to kids who have maybe a month's worth of English in their brains. They're not conversational, duh.
Anyway, I managed to overcome the hopelessness by the end of the day. The kids are great for the most part. They're very chatty but I think it bothers their teachers more than it bothers me. Their teachers want them to shut up all the time and honestly, I only need silence when I'm talking or I'm calling on someone. I remember quite vividly what it's like to be a kid, and even more vividly what is was like to learn a foreign language for the first time (although I honestly can't remember about much English Mme. Butler used -- the two languages have melted together in my mind).
Anyway, I survived that day and dragged my tired ass home. Friday was another Nanterre-marathon day. I got two of the classes I wanted, but one is too full so it looks like I'll be in two MICEFA classes (History of Paris and History of Franco-American Relations). Oh well. Keisha, Lucia, and I also stopped by the sports complex to get the schedule of classes and such. Next week I'll get my SUAPS card (they LOVE their acronyms here) and then I'll try to fit stuff in around my class schedule. I also need to stop by Paris 7 to check out their schedule and sign up procedure. Their website says I need a medical exam, but Paris X doesn't, so who knows. I'll have two classes starting this week with MICEFA, but my Nanterre classes won't start until the week after.
I stayed up way too late last night and now I'm afraid I've screwed myself for waking up at 6 am on Monday. Ugh, it is so painful. Today I'm going to take it easy, do laundry, maybe go out tonight? And tomorrow will be lesson-planning day. Gah. Luckily class periods are only about 35 minutes, so I don't have to fill up the time with much.
Monday, October 1, 2007
Shit son
Today I discovered why so many French people smell bad. It rains. It's humid as a mother fucker. And then you run around all day and sit on the metro with a billion other people. Then you smell. Today I ran up the stairs to my apartment, stripped, and threw myself into that frigid shower. Who needs hot water when the weather sucks so hard?
In other news, I went out to Marly-le-roi and met les gosses and the teachers at my schools. One of my schools is named after Antoine de Saint-Exupéry and there are little petit prince drawings all over the walls. I met some little kids with French flags painted on their faces -- so cute. I am starting on Thursday, which is terrifying because my orientation is only tomorrow. The kids are pretty young and so I have a feeling that there will be a lot of French involved because their English is not up to par. I've been warned that I shouldn't speak French to the kids because they'll laugh at my accent (whatevs) but the director today said that I "parlez presque sans accent." Perhaps the best French compliment I've ever heard.
In other news, I went out to Marly-le-roi and met les gosses and the teachers at my schools. One of my schools is named after Antoine de Saint-Exupéry and there are little petit prince drawings all over the walls. I met some little kids with French flags painted on their faces -- so cute. I am starting on Thursday, which is terrifying because my orientation is only tomorrow. The kids are pretty young and so I have a feeling that there will be a lot of French involved because their English is not up to par. I've been warned that I shouldn't speak French to the kids because they'll laugh at my accent (whatevs) but the director today said that I "parlez presque sans accent." Perhaps the best French compliment I've ever heard.
Et alors, il commence. . .
These past two weeks have been a whirlwind. Matt arrived on the 18, and we promptly blew out my electricity with a surge protector. We managed to get the emergency electrician over with help from a French friend, and most of the problem was fixed. After one more visit from another electrician, all of the appliances and lights were working. However, the dire situation lies in the water heater, and I have not had a hot shower in almost two weeks. My landlady offered to put me up in a hotel until it's fixed, but I don't think it's worth it. I feel like I should save this karma for another time.
The first few days Matt was here, he slept between 19 and 12 hours a night, which turned out nicely because I didn't have to worry about keeping him entertained while I was in class. We saw three movies (Death at a Funeral, Paris Je T'Aime, and Interview) thanks to Rentrée du Cinéma, a nifty little offer over a week or so where you buy one movie ticket and get one more for a euro. Holla. We did manage to get out on Friday night though, to drink under the Eiffel Tower with the Sciences Po crew.
This past week was much more exciting, after Matt had conquered the jet lag and a wicked cold acquired in transit. Tuesday night was a Sciences Po party. I felt so Parisian and grown-up, walking into the club at 2 am and not leaving until 5. Alas, the techno is probably taking over my life, but they did manage to throw in a couple songs I knew, even if most of them were disco or oldies. The French like a very bizarre mix of American music. Then we walked our sweaty and sore asses home only to finally nous couchons at 6 am. Which was great when I got up at 11:30 the next day to write some notes for the exposée I had to give in class at 1 pm. For whatever nutso reason I stayed for the party and movie, then dragged myself home to nap. Matt was on the first of a few of his self-directed excursions, but my nap was shot to shit anyway by the electrician. And still no hot water.
On Friday we ventured out again with the Sciences Po crew, to Le Queen, a formerly gay and now mostly trendy club on the Champs-Elysees. In an attempt to make it a somewhat earlier night, we should up at midnight, just after opening. Stupid idea. Everyone sipped their Smirnoff mixed drinks at tables and stared at each other until probably 1. And this time they only played one, SINGLE, SOLITARY song I knew. But whatever. It was great fun. I've adored dancing in that setting since the days of Bar Mitzvahs and Jew dances, but nowadays the guys actually know how to dance and it is a vast improvement.
In fact, while dancing on the mini-stage thinger with my buddy Alejandro, he refused to move for the glittery go-go dancer and got kicked out. Never get belligerent to a man in a fur stole. We ended up finding him outside, then going for crepes and taking the night bus home.
Saturday night was more low key but still fabulous. After seeing 2 Days in Paris (for the second time), we hoofed it to the Marais to try a cafe one of Matt's NY Times editors suggested. It was packed, but we ended up finding Chez Hanna around the corner. I have to preface this by saying that the Marais is both the Jewish and the gay district in Paris. So we ate falafel and hommos in a pink room with feather boas glued to the lamps while listening to the Scissor Sisters.
Sunday morning, we got our asses up before dawn and cabbed it to Gare du Nord, where I saw Matt off to Angleterre. I promptly returned home and slept until 2 pm. I spent the rest of the day watching Buffy, then listening to Say Anything and missing San Diego. But in a good way.
For those of you who don't know, my mom put our house on the market last week and sold it in five days. That's Carmel Valley for you. She's put in an offer to buy my cousin's old apartment in Berkeley, where I once spent a shit-faced night and still adore. It's a little disorienting because while I was packing for Paris and blowing a gasket at the thought of having to choose which stuff made the move with my mom, my comfort was that I had plenty of time. Not so anymore. But whatever, if she can get her dream home and pay off school for Sean and I, then allez-y.
Alright, now that you're all caught up (hi Sean), I have to leave so I can photocopy some shizzle, turn in my carte de séjour shit at MICEFA (read: LAZY), and spend an hour on the fuckin' RER so I can go meet some personnel at my teaching job. Peace out!
The first few days Matt was here, he slept between 19 and 12 hours a night, which turned out nicely because I didn't have to worry about keeping him entertained while I was in class. We saw three movies (Death at a Funeral, Paris Je T'Aime, and Interview) thanks to Rentrée du Cinéma, a nifty little offer over a week or so where you buy one movie ticket and get one more for a euro. Holla. We did manage to get out on Friday night though, to drink under the Eiffel Tower with the Sciences Po crew.
This past week was much more exciting, after Matt had conquered the jet lag and a wicked cold acquired in transit. Tuesday night was a Sciences Po party. I felt so Parisian and grown-up, walking into the club at 2 am and not leaving until 5. Alas, the techno is probably taking over my life, but they did manage to throw in a couple songs I knew, even if most of them were disco or oldies. The French like a very bizarre mix of American music. Then we walked our sweaty and sore asses home only to finally nous couchons at 6 am. Which was great when I got up at 11:30 the next day to write some notes for the exposée I had to give in class at 1 pm. For whatever nutso reason I stayed for the party and movie, then dragged myself home to nap. Matt was on the first of a few of his self-directed excursions, but my nap was shot to shit anyway by the electrician. And still no hot water.
On Friday we ventured out again with the Sciences Po crew, to Le Queen, a formerly gay and now mostly trendy club on the Champs-Elysees. In an attempt to make it a somewhat earlier night, we should up at midnight, just after opening. Stupid idea. Everyone sipped their Smirnoff mixed drinks at tables and stared at each other until probably 1. And this time they only played one, SINGLE, SOLITARY song I knew. But whatever. It was great fun. I've adored dancing in that setting since the days of Bar Mitzvahs and Jew dances, but nowadays the guys actually know how to dance and it is a vast improvement.
In fact, while dancing on the mini-stage thinger with my buddy Alejandro, he refused to move for the glittery go-go dancer and got kicked out. Never get belligerent to a man in a fur stole. We ended up finding him outside, then going for crepes and taking the night bus home.
Saturday night was more low key but still fabulous. After seeing 2 Days in Paris (for the second time), we hoofed it to the Marais to try a cafe one of Matt's NY Times editors suggested. It was packed, but we ended up finding Chez Hanna around the corner. I have to preface this by saying that the Marais is both the Jewish and the gay district in Paris. So we ate falafel and hommos in a pink room with feather boas glued to the lamps while listening to the Scissor Sisters.
Sunday morning, we got our asses up before dawn and cabbed it to Gare du Nord, where I saw Matt off to Angleterre. I promptly returned home and slept until 2 pm. I spent the rest of the day watching Buffy, then listening to Say Anything and missing San Diego. But in a good way.
For those of you who don't know, my mom put our house on the market last week and sold it in five days. That's Carmel Valley for you. She's put in an offer to buy my cousin's old apartment in Berkeley, where I once spent a shit-faced night and still adore. It's a little disorienting because while I was packing for Paris and blowing a gasket at the thought of having to choose which stuff made the move with my mom, my comfort was that I had plenty of time. Not so anymore. But whatever, if she can get her dream home and pay off school for Sean and I, then allez-y.
Alright, now that you're all caught up (hi Sean), I have to leave so I can photocopy some shizzle, turn in my carte de séjour shit at MICEFA (read: LAZY), and spend an hour on the fuckin' RER so I can go meet some personnel at my teaching job. Peace out!
Friday, September 14, 2007
Les Actualites
So the big news this week is that I finally met up with the directors of the school where I'll be teaching English. Since I never received my documents from the ministry of education, I had no idea where I was I was teaching or how to get in contact with anyone. After prodding the people at MICEFA for a few weeks, they contacted the school and the director emailed me. We set up a meeting for Tuesday at 2:30. I rushed home from class that day, shoveled in some food, and off I went on the train. I took the RER there, which is essentially the BART to the metro's muni. Anyway, it's about an hour away, but that is sort of preferable here because it is past the suburbs and into a rich little town with a pretty castle. In France, the center of the city is the richest, and the farther away you get from there, the more ghetto things are. So in France, a suburb is basically the projects. Anyway, I met with two directors who picked me up at the train station and drove me to the school. One was wearing bright purple mascara with matching eyeshadow and the other bright blue. Silly townspeople. So they jabbered for forever, but we ended up picking my work schedule (8:30 to 4 Monday and Thursday --- good christ) and they printed out all of the train and bus schedules and showed me the fastest ways to get there. Very accommodating, which is rare among the French or so I've been told.
The rest of the week has been business as usual. Class in the morning, then some food shopping. We have a group trip to Fontainebleu tomorrow, so a few of us decided to have a picnic. I bought myself some turkey and a baguette to make a sandwich (sidebar: here in France, I am not considered a freak if I slap some butter and turkey on a baguette and call it a sandwich. That is what a French sandwich consists of). I also picked up two huge boxes of tiny strawberries for 5 euro as my contribution to the picnic. Few things make me feel more French than walking back to my apartment with a baguette under my arm. Later I'm heading to MICEFA to figure out my residency card crap and start my enrollment in Paris 10. Let me regale you with what I have to present for my residency card:
Needless to say I will be pro skills at French printing and xeroxing at the imprimerie.
The rest of the week has been business as usual. Class in the morning, then some food shopping. We have a group trip to Fontainebleu tomorrow, so a few of us decided to have a picnic. I bought myself some turkey and a baguette to make a sandwich (sidebar: here in France, I am not considered a freak if I slap some butter and turkey on a baguette and call it a sandwich. That is what a French sandwich consists of). I also picked up two huge boxes of tiny strawberries for 5 euro as my contribution to the picnic. Few things make me feel more French than walking back to my apartment with a baguette under my arm. Later I'm heading to MICEFA to figure out my residency card crap and start my enrollment in Paris 10. Let me regale you with what I have to present for my residency card:
- passport
- six ID photos
- copy of my lease
- copy of my landlord's residency card
- copy of my most recent electricity bill (which has to be faxed to me from New York because I don't pay it)
- proof of my French health insurance
- a copy of my financial aid statement
Needless to say I will be pro skills at French printing and xeroxing at the imprimerie.
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