je suis etrangère

"The funny thing is, with the passage of time, something does happen to long-term foreigners which makes them more like real exiles, and they do not like it at all. The homeland which they left behind changes. The culture, the politics and their old friends all change, die, forget them. They come to feel that they are foreigners even when visiting “home”.

Beware, then: however well you carry it off, however much you enjoy it, there is a dangerous undertow to being a foreigner, even a genteel foreigner. Somewhere at the back of it all lurks homesickness, which metastasises over time into its incurable variant, nostalgia. And nostalgia has much in common with the Freudian idea of melancholia—a continuing, debilitating sense of loss, somewhere within which lies anger at the thing lost. It is not the possibility of returning home which feeds nostalgia, but the impossibility of it.

But we cannot expect to have it all ways. Life is full of choices, and to choose one thing is to forgo another. The dilemma of foreignness comes down to one of liberty versus fraternity—the pleasures of freedom versus the pleasures of belonging. The homebody chooses the pleasures of belonging. The foreigner chooses the pleasures of freedom, and the pains that go with them."

From an article entitled "Being Foreign: The Others" published by The Economist

on verra

Despite being absolutely, painfully and pathetically (yet simultaneously, hilariously) broke, I decided I needed another holiday. I think maybe the French mentality of needing a holiday every few weeks has corrupted my American work ethic... In any case, one of the several things I initially set out to do once I arrived in Toulouse was to go to Barcelona. Well, nearly a year later, I was beyond excited to finally go!

I spent a full week there, which was very fun, very exhausting, and very financially unwise for me. Yet sooo worth it. Spain made me realize a lot of things about France. Namely, how unFUCKINGbelievably expensive my life is in France. It's seriously no wonder I'm broke, I pay so much for everything. I was practically crying tears of joy when every night I paid an average of about 9E for an amazing meal with starter and drink included and when coffee was about 1.20E and nectarines were 89¢ a kilo (compared to 2.89 in France).

I also began to realize how uptight the French can really be. I've spent the past seven months straight in France, not even leaving the country once so I suppose I got used to it. But the Spanish are much more expressive, they're loud and they're not afraid of making a scene or wearing bright vibrant colors. It was actually refreshing -- for the first time in a while, I didn't over-think every thing I wore or worry about being considered too silly in public (oh, how I miss dancing in public...). I came back here, and I actually kind of resented the French for being so old-fashioned (also paying an arm and a leg for fruit).

PAELLA YUMMY NOM NOMS!

Barcelone, je vous aime

let's plage it, shall we? "let's shall."

(side-note: the headwrap, aka the shirt I wore to the beach, was due to the terrible sunburn I got on my scalp from the sightseeing of the previous days)

Parc Güell

Anyway, while I was in Barcelona, I got an email a few days earlier than I expected and I didn't get the scholarship I needed in order to go to university in England. Which blows. Cause even though I tried my best not to get my hopes up about anything, I really did want to try a year in England and I simply cannot justify spending what it would cost for me to be an international student. I've decided to defer acceptance and make the decision in another year which may allow me to try to save up some money. We'll see.

I hate that: "we'll see." I'm tired of it. Gimme some direction already, universe! I don't wanna come up with my own!

In the meantime, I'm just gonna go back to paying for overpriced chocolatines and enjoying what's left of the summertime. 

bisous

je divague

I just made a playlist entitled "what the flip am I gonna do with my life?" If anything, I think this summarizes my sentiments as of late. I guess it's about time for my biannual what-has-my-life-come-to pseudo-meltdown-but-meltdown-isn't-the-right-word-because-it's-too-melodramatic. I'm sure you have them too, just maybe not as often. Don't lie.

Maybe it's the common dilemma of the twenty-something these days, the feeling of uncertainty and self-doubt. Always wondering what exactly it is we're after and even if you think you know what you want, you sometimes feel like it isn't the right thing or maybe you start to wonder what else is out there. Is it because we have so many choices? And the overwhelming options somehow cripple the ability to make any decision at all? Maybe it's just me. I think I'm insufferably indecisive.

executive decision: why can't i just do this all day?

I think it's good to have a lot of irons in the fire, so to speak, in terms of making life choices. That's mostly how I do things -- I'll go for all the things that I have convinced myself that I want because inevitably, none of them will work according to plan. Then usually the thing that I least expected to happen happens in a completely messed up and even more twisted way.

This allows the universe to make my decisions for me. I kind of hate that I'm becoming that person -- the kind of person who thinks there is some kind of order to the universe, like someone is actually pulling the strings to my life. But how can I help it? Sometimes certain things just feel right. I get asked all the time here why I chose Toulouse. And my answer is honestly, I didn't -- Toulouse chose me.

Ok, maybe that's little dramatic. But, I remember last summer when I was desperately checking my email every two seconds for someone to respond to the hundreds of CVs I was emailing, the one of two responses for a job interview was in Toulouse and at that time I was staying with my sister in Atlanta. I hurriedly went to google to find out more about Toulouse and I remember one of the first things I read was that it was Atlanta's sister city. And I was like, "SIGN! It's a sign!!!!"

Anyway, so here I am by some twisted fate of good timing and a convenient google search. But now, I'm in a similar sort of situation. I'm FUNemployed and trying to figure out what to do next. I enjoyed teaching ESL for a year but I'm not sure I want to do it again. I'm sort of itching to do something different.

here's a picture of me on a cow for funsies.

I'm still waiting on financial news from Uni which will arrive on August 2nd and until then I get to sit here twiddling my thumbs like an idiot -- I don't want to invest myself too much in the idea that I'm going to pack up and leave come September, simply to avoid disappointment. Is that immature? A friend of mine called me irresponsible when I told him my decision making process. He told me disappointment is inevitable and that I was being stupid for not making the decision for myself, that it was childish to leave this up to fate.

Sadly, I think he's right. I don't feel like I'm responsible enough to be making these kinds of decisions about life. Move to England? Stay in France? Find a real job? Continue with ESL? Go back to the states? I'm sitting here looking at the "module" selections (that's apparently British university talk for "classes") for my potential M.A. in English Literature and I'm like oh hey, a 15,000 word dissertation? omgwtfhahaNO. I'm waaaay too irresponsible to even be using words like dissertation and modules.

I'm going to leave this post with a web comic I came across. It's an absolutely amazing blog that this silly and funny girl writes and draws and it has so far caused me to continuously and actually laugh out loud and not just lol. I recommend you check it out. Anyway, here's how I feel about life at the moment. bisous à tous.

(http://hyperboleandahalf.blogspot.com)

vie de merde

I realize that I haven't really done much actual updating -- that is to say, you probably have no idea what I'm up to these days. I'ma tell you!

The school where I teach is now closed for the summer, so I'm effectively unemployed and relying on my private students for income at the moment. Thanks to an ad for lessons I put up on the internet, I've also been doing some teaching work here and there, but nothing really stable. I'm hoping that I'll get this really sweet job that I interviewed for about a month ago but they're still in the process of interviewing so I guess I won't find out until mid-July. Also, I may end up going to Uni in England but I'm waiting on financial information to make up my mind one way or another.

Basically, I have no job, I have no plans and I have no idea about any of it.

Anyway. I'm really bummed. I was supposed to go up to Paris this weekend to see a really good friend from USD and it didn't work out. I've talked briefly about how much I hate the SNCF (the French national railway service) -- well, I have about eight more reasons to add to the list. (I'll try to condense the story as much as possible)....

I booked a 6:08 am train to Paris on Saturday morning but thanks to the delayed metro here in Toulouse, I ended up missing it by mere seconds. I literally watched the train leave and I was so upset I let out a big motherfucking f-bomb in the middle of the station. Still panting and sweating, I went to exchange my ticket for the next train which would leave at 7:17. It was going to be ok, even though this train wasn't a TGV, I was still going to Paris, albeit a little bit late. The train left and everything was fine until we hit Limoges.

You can see, it's just about halfway between Paris and Toulouse -- it took approximately four hours to get there. They stop to tell us there's a problem on the train and we're going to be stopped indeterminately. Heavy sigh. A few minutes later, they said, sorry guys the train is not functioning, you'll have to go to the station to get your tickets exchanged for another train. So everyone gets off the train and forms a very long line in the station, sweating profusely (this is France in the summertime) only to be told that there was no more room on the trains to Paris until tomorrow morning. You can either stay the night in the station or you can go back to Toulouse and, oh yeah, the train to Toulouse is leaving now. Like, right now.

Haaaoooh. I let out another f-bomb, and made the decision to just come home and try to get the next train the following morning. I really wanted to see Stef and I spent a lot of money on this trip -- so, another four hours on the train (two of which I had to stand due to there being no seats) and when I got back, I tried to change my ticket again. I waited in the line and the woman was an absolute troll to me. She told me because I had missed my original train this morning that I had already benefited from the "generosity" of the SNCF and I'd need to buy another ticket. But it's not my fault the train broke down, I didn't make it to my final destination and that's your fault, I told her. At this point, I was so weary and upset and hungry, I started getting emotional. She told me to calm down and then told me that there was another train in 40 minutes. I was absolutely livid. I told her that I just spent the entire day on the train and had no intention of doing it again at which point I just walked away, but not before dropping f-bomb number three.

So, I spent 150E (including the hostel which I had to cancel) on a weekend in Paris and here I am. I got home and did what any self-respecting girl of 23 does when everything just seems to go wrong. Which is get absolutely pissed drunk. I passed out at 6:00 pm, missed the Spain/Paraguay game and somehow managed to trash my entire apartment when I woke up at midnight starving hungry.

What a depressing weekend. And I miss air conditioning.