too big

I've come to realize and embrace certain things lately, all of which I intend to return to France and continue to embrace. These are: I'm a big, loud, greasy food loving, bad joke telling, big sunglasses wearing, people watching, sunshine craving, dance partying, style deprived, easily amused American. I have desperately been trying to soak in as many amazing American things while I'm temporarily back home and I think I've been fairly successful. This trip has consisted mostly of eating copious amounts of chips and salsa, ritually changing my sister's desktop background to something hilarrrrrrious I've drawn on ms paint, getting up way too early in order to make the most of every day, taking far too many pictures of cacti (with a sa-weet new camera!) that I normally wouldn't be bothered about, enjoying about three cups of tea a day from a mug that's entirely too large and hanging around the house in my pajamas and new luxury snuggie (yes, I got one for Christmas -- jealous?)

the tree freshly ornamented

It's so silly, three months ago I couldn't wait to get out of this blasted town -- maybe it had something to do with the oppressive heat or the waiting tables or the fact that I was now a college graduate living with my parents... But, man. When I left for France, I was ready to leave, ready for anything. And I was, most importantly, fearless.

Somewhere over the last three months, I lost a lot of that enthusiasm. I'm not really sure what it's to blame; I've put it down to numerous job rejections, living alone, putting up with the french hostility towards foreigners, the problems I've had meeting people, communication issues, general loneliness, etc. but how am I to get it back? I'm no longer dying to get out of this place -- quite the opposite, in fact. I'm finding it difficult to look forward to making meals for myself and my empty apartment.

deliciously warm fire. crucial? maybe not. wonderful? ohohoh, yes.

I have a couple theories. The first is that I think there exists a certain type of person in the world who is always wanting the things they can't or don't have. They long for the unattainable and will work tirelessly to get it; however, as soon as they get the things they so desperately want, they no longer desire it. Who knows why -- the grass is always greener? They enjoy the "chase" so to speak? Ah, I'll never know. Perhaps every person is like this, to a certain extent, but I have no real reason to believe this. What I do know is that these people are doomed to never learn from this endless, stupid cycle.

Mom workin' away on the traditional mince pies and lookin' fab

I have this mental image of an episode of Scrubs where J.D. spends the entire time trying to get Elliot to leave her perfect boyfriend Sean (::swoon::) because he wants her back. In the end, she finally does and the as the episode ends, they're together in his apartment. She says to him, "well, you have me, J.D. You finally have me." And it shows J.D., all of sudden looking absolutely terrified, and a voice over of his thoughts scream out, "OH MY GOD, I DON'T WANT HER! I DON'T WANT HER!"

I have to palm-thud my forehead at J.D.'s predictable stupidity. Erugh, I hate predictable television.

I digress. Anyways, my point is, it's something like that. Maybe we convince ourselves we want something so badly, we forget to prepare ourselves for the negative aspects of having it. I do it. I'll own up to it.

the kitty gettin' chummy with my new snuggie. i let it slide... this time...

The second theory is that I guess I wasn't as adventurous as I had planned to be. I think about so many people I knew from University doing crazy amazing things and, because my life had pretty much slowed to a stop, I thought I needed to do something big and crazy and adventurous too. I guess I just wasn't as prepared as I thought I was for it.

palm trees a-swayin'

Frankly, I don't really like either option. But I remember a quote I once heard...

“The longer I live, the more I realize the impact of attitude on life. Attitude, to me, is more important than facts. It is more important than the past, the education, the money, than circumstances, than failure, than successes, than what other people think or say or do... We cannot change the inevitable. The only thing we can do is play on the one string we have, and that is our attitude. I am convinced that life is 10% what happens to me and 90% of how I react to it."

- Some dood

Anyways, I think this dood was onto something. I hope so because it sure gives me more hope than either one of my dumb theories. In the meantime, I guess I'll enjoy as many bean & cheese burritos as my waistline can handle. Which, at this point in the holiday season, isn't really a whole lot more. Yikes.

fresh from the oven

 

douglas with the az sunset

"nous allons trouver une solution"

i wish the world was flat, like the old days,
and i could travel just by folding a map.
no more
          airplanes or
                 speed trains or
                        freeways.


there'd be no                    
                                 
     

                               d i s t a n c e  



that could
hold
us
back.




*     *     *     *     *

Searching for Christmas gifts in Borders, I came across a post secret book on display. Immediately upon opening it, I stumbled onto a secret that could not have spoken more clearly to me at that moment. And right then and there, I sensed everything would be ok.

joyeux noël

"Christmas Party" by The Walkmen


"So Christmas is here again with it's tinsel and lights. The city is covered in snow. At our house, family and friends have gathered tonight to eat, drink and share the holiday cheer. And this December, like Decembers before, we find ourselves reflecting -- contemplating our lives as another chapter comes to a close. So, here I sit at the Christmas party, with a belly full of wine, while the celebration dances around me. And I dream of you. And you're singing to me....

But soon the music will fade, the last of the wine will be poured and the dancing will cease. These old friends will make their way home to sleep a restless sleep as Saint Nick makes his rounds. And by tomorrow afternoon as the last of the wrapping paper is tossed into the fire, this Christmas will be over. Why must it all go by so fast? Santa Claus, this Christmas, don't let these friends go home, don't let the revelry end and don't leave me here alone."

holy merde.

It's... snowing outside. Legitimately snowing. I remember asking my boss on day #1 in Toulouse if it snowed here, to which he confidently replied "no, very rarely."

That's it, I'm outta here.

la meilleur chose

Let's get one thing cleared out of the way before I begin this entry -- I'm a fat kid. A foodie. Someone with a massive, insatiable and seemingly bottomless appetite. Ok, disclaimer done.

Today was one of those days that I have dreamt of having in France. Not so excitingly, I spent the morning teaching lessons and then later went into the city center to get some Christmas shopping done. We all know that after a day of looking around the shops, all you want to do is crash out and enjoy a nice brew -- not to mention the fact that I normally become ravenous after walking around and spending money (particularly when its 42 degrees outside, wahh).

So, I'm on my way home and decide to stop by my bakery, Le Secret du Bon Pain, to pick up a baguette for dinner. I walk inside and say my ritual "bonjour" but there isn't anyone behind the glass. I stand there awkwardly for a few moments, salivating at the tartes aux fraises, when a cheery looking woman turned the corner from the kitchen, carrying in her arms a fresh load of baguettes. She must have noticed my eyes become the size of dinner plates because she looked up and chortled a little bit. I composed myself and asked her, "are they fresh?" to which she responded, "the freshest, and still warm."

I refrained from drooling all over the floor and said, "une baguette quotidienne, s'il vous plait" which is a bigger baguette than I normally get, but how could I not -- it's FRESH FROM THE OVEN, PEOPLE.

She reached over and handed it to me as I gave her my money, the lovely warmth of fresh bread in my hand. I smile big at her and gave an inadvertently english "mair-see!" to which she laughed again and wished me a good evening.

::drool::

Since I hadn't eaten since breakfast and it was nearly 4:30, ravenous would be an understatement; I was practically running home to be sure that the bread wouldn't get cold. I made it about halfway when I took my first bite, still so warm and delicious. By the time I made it up the stairs to my apartment, about a third of it had been eaten. I plopped down on my clic-clac and devoured nearly the entire thing, leaving a disarray of crumbs everywhere, which I have yet to sweep up.

I've lived here nearly three months and spent four months in Aix and in that time, I have ordered many a baguette, always hoping I manage to go during the right times of day, when the bread is the freshest. Not that I really have any complaints about the bread I do get, it's just as nice -- but there is certainly something to be said about really really fresh bread, isn't there?

I have to say, that is one thing that France really kicks everyone's asses in. Sorry, America... At least you have better churros.

"bonne continuation"

In learning a different language, there are often phrases or expressions that one comes across that don't really translate all that well -- I have found a particularly annoying one.

It is "bonne continuation" -- despite having a rather decent understanding of the french language at this point, I still read it and hear in my head "good continuation." Then I immediately think, "wait... good continuation? Stupid." If I were to think of a better way of rephrasing it, I'd say it means "good luck in your continuing efforts." Satisfied with my better and more eloquent translation, I then realize that I'm a complete fool. This is because after processing all that information, I return to the first part of the sentence that "bonne continuation" came from, the part that I haven't misunderstood. It says, "je vous informe que votre candidature n'a pas été retenue." I've just been rejected from another job application and have spent the last three seconds thinking about this stupid phrase which is really just a courteous way of telling me that I'm hopeless.

Sadly, it's not the first time I've read that annoying phrase -- not even the second or third. But such is life and it moves on.

*          *          *          *          *

Anyways, this Saturday I was feeling more like myself so I decided to meander around the giant Christmas market near the Capitole. I'm kicking myself for not having a camera, I wish I could show you how awesome it looks! I wanted to have a mosey around, maybe find a gift or two to bring back with me, perhaps try the famous mulled wine; unfortunately it was absolutely mobbed and I could barely move around in the huge crowd. I resigned myself instead to people watching which was quite entertaining. As festive as it was and as much as I love Christmas (as all my friends and family also seem to have realized), I couldn't help but feel a little sad. I didn't see many other people wandering around by themselves. I felt like to someone watching me, I must look like someone whose friends have left them waiting. Frankly, I would have preferred that to the the truth, which was a loner curiously staring at complete strangers.

I'm excited to go home -- perhaps a little too excited. I hope I'll return after Christmas and have better luck in my continuing search for... whatever it is I'm looking for.

c'est pas la grippe. j'espere.

Mission Avoid Getting Sick in France: FAILED

I'm pretty sure I can blame the whole three hours waiting outside in the cold, but I've progressively been feeling more and more sick since Sunday which is nacho fun. Perhaps it's my poor eating habits... but it's easier to blame the SNCF again so I'm gonna go with that.

Anyways, I stole some pictures so I thought I'd post 'em because it's cold and raining outside and I'm pretty sure I'm not gonna be doing a whole lot today. Enjoy.

  

 We all went on a little walk Saturday morning -- how I miss the ocean!

I was freezing; Lucile's response, "whatever, I'm from the north, man."

                    Our big group -- that blur is Lucile :)

Right before dinner, at 9:30. It had been a rough day up until that point. Y'know, sitting around, drinking and watching the boys cook.

Isaias' world famous flan. Don't ask me how many pieces I ate.

                          After dinner silliness.

In all, it was a fun time and I can't wait to go back during the warmer months!

xoxo bisous.