It's a Hard Knock Life for Me and my Cronies

Salut,

I keep thinking I'm going to write and then putting it off for later and never actually get to it, so here I finally am.

It's been a pretty busy couple of weeks around here. What with Thanksgiving, the choir concerts, Rotary party, and Noël-In I feel not a little stretched, which is probably one of the causes of the cold I've had since Wednesday night.

Thanksgiving was a rather larger affair than I had imagined it would be, consisting of four different families and about 15 people, all crammed around one average-sized table. Casey and David and I skipped our afternoon classes Friday to start the cooking (pies and cookies), but Casey basically ended up being the one who did all the work. David and I watched Juno. Unfortunately we couldn't stay at Casey's forever, since she and I had orchestra and choir, and while I'm sure she would have skipped orchestra, I couldn't afford to skip choir the day before the first concert. No secret here-I would much rather have gone to orchestra, where I actually feel welcome. After practicing basically non-stop the past week for my flute solo with the choir, at the practice the night before I was informed that I wouldn't be needed any longer. Talk about a burn. But I guess I wasn't too concerned since I got to skip the last concert to go to the Rotary party Saturday. I'll get to that in a bit.

Saturday was the actually Thanksgiving dinner for us, and Casey came over that afternoon to help me finish the cooking. I helped a little more this time, probably because David wasn't there to distract me. And just to prove I did something, I'm going to list everything I helped with, for the benefit of my own ego:

Seasoned the turkey

Peeled the limes

Made the stuffing

Taste-tested the stuffing

Helped stir the onions

Taste-tested the onions

Made the second half of the gravy for the green bean casserole

Taste-tested the second half of the gravy for the green bean casserole

Cut the slices of the cranberry jelly thing

Offered one to Casey to taste-test.

So you see? I wasn't a bump-on-log amoeba-like shape in front of a computer this time. Go me.

David arrived somewhat later (cue rolled eyes from me and Casey) just in time to repeat three of the seven steps I partook of. Take a gander at which three that might be.

Unfortunately, I had to leave for the concert and missed the greater part of the meal itself, but I was told that David acted very valiantly on my part and denied his stomach, trying in vain to make the French wait for me to come back to start eating. Unfortunately, the French egos are difficult to quench, and between the bowing and unnecessary encores, the concert lasted a whopping two hours. I half wonder what made the audience stay sitting that long. But of course, they were determined to get their money's worth, even if they had to block the doors to prevent the choir from escaping. Oops! Did I say escaping? I meant leaving.

Anyway I did come back and enjoy a rather pleasant rest of the evening partaking of turkey and mashed potatoes and drawing on Casey's tablecloth that her mom sent from America. It was Damask. Fancy. For more information see my Thanksgiving pictures on Facebook. Most of them are of the tablecloth.

The next day hosted an event that was as uneventful as uneventful events can eventually be. This event being the second choir concert, and my last for the season, made all the more unbearable with the knowledge that Casey and David were in Switzerland together. No more commentary needed on this subject.

Then Wednesday, just as I was beginning to stress enormously about how the heck I was going to finish my costume for this weekend, I went to Mayelle's house (a French friend, one of the few whom I still allow to speak English to me) after school for several hours. I actually had a really nice time. Her mom, a Vietnamese woman, cooked us a Vietnamese lunch with these meat rolls and sauce and lettuce that were seriously heaven. And which later showed up in Mizuki's contribution to the Rotary party. They were gone in a matter of minutes. Anyway we then had coffee and cheese and watched Arthur the Invisibles in English with French subtitles. :) Then there was a gateau-tarte type thing with raspberries that made my mouth water. She showed me her room and tried to teach me a little Italian, of which all that I understood was that there was nothing I understood. Then her mom made us a somewhat more French meal for dinner-Raclettes, which is basically boiled potatoes+cheese+sausage or ham+Anne's mouth. I've had them three times so far in France and they definitely tie with Cunelles (basically Matzo balls with French sauce) and with Brioche au Saucisson, which is a Lyonnais specialty. Lyon is the food capital of France. We have good food. It happens.

Thursday and Friday were sick days. I woke up feeling like crap and decided to stay home instead of braving the 7 hours of school that would have faced my unwilling body, nose, forehead, and stomach. My host mom had gotten me a doctor's appointment for Friday but that morning she called me and informed me that the doctor had fallen ill herself and had canceled all her appointments. So instead I set myself to the task of ignoring being sick like Dad always does and hoping it'd go away. I don't know how he does it. But it didn't work.

I started on my dress/costume for Noël-In, got frustrated with the sewing machine and gave up. But I did get quite a lot done. I decided not to go to orchestra practice for the third week in a row, being as miserable as I was, and will now have to pay for that by being ridiculously behind.

My SAT Subject Tests were then the following morning. It seems to me that I became mysteriously sick during the SAT last year, too. Strange. Anyway, I didn't have as much trouble concentrating as usual, and I was surprised at how easy I found the tests themselves. French surprised me the most. I had felt so unprepared for it, but when it came down to it there were only a few I didn't understand, and even then, for one that I remembered being confused on and on which I took an educated guess, I looked it up later and had guessed right. Now I know how to tell people I'm lazy. That should come in handy. Je suis parreseuse...

It really was such a beautiful day Saturday that I almost forgot I was sick. It felt so welcoming with everyone in the Christmas spirit and all the decorations up for Noël-In all over the city. I took the bus to Perrache, which is the train station I'll go to to get to Paris in the spring, and then instead of being "parreseuse" and taking the métro a whole two stops, I walked from there to Bellecour along the Rue de Victor Hugo, looking at all the festive shop windows and indulging in an afternoon pain au chocolat. I walked through the Marché de Noël de Lyon, which is the city's version of Noël-In, and slightly larger and more highly publicized than that of my village, bought my dad's Christmas/birthday present, which may not arrive in the States until mid-January, and searched again, in vain, for candy cane tights like to those I had at the ripe old age of five. There are so many specialty tights shops in Lyon I expected that at least one of them would be sporting Christmas tights, but unfortunately the French 'out-of-the-box' style of dress does not include holiday-wear. It's hard to describe the feeling, but the exact temperature and windless-ness of Lyon that morning coupled with the cold sun coming from just the right angle sparked some memory of comfort that I still can't quite place, something about Christmas from a long time ago that I'm not sure even has a definition. It was almost as I was living the Macy's Christmas Day Parade in New York vicariously from Lyon. I didn't feel out-of-place for once in this big city. It felt like everything I'd ever imagined living in a city would be like-a mixture of New York and London and Paris all wrapped in one tight little bundle delivered to me just when I needed it most. I could have stayed there forever, walking down the decked-out streets of Lyon in somewhat of a dream like that for the rest of my life.

Unfortunately I did have to pull myself back to reality and found myself reluctantly home (after sauntering as slowly as possible through the Christmas festivities in La Tour) working once again on my Christmas costume. Once that was out of the way (I'm the kind of person who likes the idea at the beginning and the finished product at the end, and would prefer to leave the mess in between to somebody else) I headed over to Casey's where she and David were already well on their way to being finished with their contributions for the Rotary party that evening. I had forgotten to make my PB&J sandwiches. Some other time. I taste-tested the chocolate from Casey's dish, to make sure it wasn't poisoned, and David and I watched Superbad. We were very helpful.

Sylvie drove us to the station where were collected by a Rotarian and driven to heaven to spend the rest of the evening in. Or at least it looked like heaven. Though David did point out that heaven would have much less cursing coming out of my mouth than this earth currently contains.

Basically we all ate lot of food, took a lot of pictures, and sat and talked while the adults sat and talked, ignoring us. And at the end of the evening I was driven home in the same car as Andrea from Argentina, who is leaving us all Friday, this being the end of her exchange. Apparently in the Southern hemisphere the school year is reversed, and they have school during our spring,summer and fall, which is their fall, winter, and spring. So their exchanges consequently happen at the opposite ends of the year. Though I think it's not all the southern hemisphere that does that, seeing as there are a great many Southern Americans here who are on the regular exchange schedule, like me. Though maybe it's something specific to the Rotary clubs of the country or region.

I'll make my monologue about Sunday short since I pity anyone who has now gone through and read this entire post, which has so far taken me an hour and 14 minutes to write up.

The Noël-In in my village wasn't as fun today as it had looked yesterday, having lacked the cold sun and having added rain into the mix, but it was good anyway. It was a little awkward because I didn't think about the fact that little French children would act exactly the same around a big, older girl as little Americans do, following me and staring up at me and babbling away at me about their families or something like that. But they were cute. However their parents took absolutely no initiative at all to restrain them from pulling at my dress (which was perched precariously across my chest as it was) and shoving their hands into my candy bag. I spoke with Myriam during the parade, met her little sister, and had the opportunity to laugh at her appallingly loose grasp on English. Though there's no getting her to speak French to me. That is a battle long lost.

I had intended to go to Lyon with Dany and Jessie, a Canadian from Winnipeg and a Californian from Eureka (hee hee :) ) but it just ended up being too late and I had virtually no way to get home, it being my host sister Marine's birthday and me not wanting to disturb anyone by asking my host mom to come pick me up in Lyon during dinner. But I suppose I didn't mind too much. I felt really comfortable just sitting in bed talking to Jenna and being paresseuse for the first time in a few weeks. And then we had spaghetti and little mini cakes for Marine's birthday dinner. All's well that ends well.

Ups and Downs

First-update.

Yesterday was the highly anticipated art class trip to the Musée des Beaux-Arts in Lyon. It was intellectual and fascinating and I enjoyed it very much.

If someone from Rotary reads this-stop reading here.

Actually I learned about it the day before and I thought it was rather a waste of time. We were to arrive at the lycée at 1:15 and part shortly after, spending the afternoon on a pleasant guided tour of the museum, after which we would return as a class to the school, from which we would make our own ways home.

What really happened was this:

The bus was late so I arrived at 1:17, thinking I was late, but the class was still milling around the prof doing nothing as he assured that he hadn't forgotten any of our names. Not kidding. He wasn't even checking to make sure that we were there. I believe that if I hadn't called to him and shoved my permission form into his unsuspecting hands he wouldn't have even remembered he had given them to us to get signed. We then walked to the bus stop as a class, where we waited for half an hour for the bus. I would hope that I'm not the only one who feels that this is a tad bit ridiculous. I thought not. Anyway the guided tour was quite a bit less than my expectations had led me to believe it would be, as I saw very little of the expositions as being very intellectual. Anyone can set up a camera on a beach for a few odd hours and then put a TV on fake sand with a colorful umbrella and call it art. Finally, we ended up being told that the teachers had decided to stay in Lyon and not accompany the students back to the school, so we were showed the way back to Gorge de Loup and left to ourselves. Thankfully it's a route I know only too well. Needless to say I was left feeling quite unsatisfied and have even greater desire to see the Louvre and the Musée d'Orsay, both of which happen to house REAL artwork. By people who actually exist in my world.

Secondly-I would just like to say that the Rotary exchange students in Lyon are as of right now my favorite people in France. After a particularly prickly encounter with my aging Youth Exchange Officer (no explanation needed) they were perfectly content to let me vent angrily and even took part in the Louis-bashing themselves. And of course afterward we indulged in some serious laugh therapy. And chocolate.

Thirdly-OLYMPIQUE LYONNAISE MATCH TOMORROW NIGHT!!! So excited!! They're playing against Marseilles, which is truly a rivalry made in Hell, so it should be a good match. Even if I don't understand a bit of soccer, I'll enjoy spending the evening cheering on my new home team with Casey and Dany. And possibly David if he decides to leave his host father for a bit and join us obnoxious girls.

Levels of Communication

Have you ever before wondered where texts and messages go if they have no definite destination? Do they just float around in cyberspace for months until the device for which they are intended is once again at their disposal?

I heard someone mention something to this effect not too long ago, though the exact meaning had not quite become evident until today. I hadn't been aware of how long my phone had been dead, just that for a few days I hadn't needed it. But today I charged it and returned it to the land of the living, receiving five subsequent texts that buzzed in within a matter of seconds. Then I thought, where were those texts while my phone was six feet under? Because they most certainly weren't in my phone. i concluded that there must be a bank of undelivered texts somewhere in a vault deep inside the government think tank, and that they're all just floating around getting to know each other until they're called once again into duty.

If this is so (which I must first assure skeptics that it most certainly is), how do these texts become aware that they're once again needed? Do they each have little red lights that flash when their respective phones are revived?

I am forced to conclude that this is so. And as a result, I expect to receive a multitude of texts come July, flooding into my inbox complete with little red lights and visa stamps.

American Chocolate

After a short liason in the south of France with my host mother, I am surprisingly happy to be returning to my makeshift French home. A little worried about the state of my art homework (30 dessins to finish in four hours tomorrow on nonexistent sketch paper), but relieved and prepared for a good night's sleep nonetheless. How my art teacher really expects me to accomplish this daring feat, I have no idea. Quite apart from the fact that I have no means with which to do the work, I have simply no motivation to do pointless sketches during my vacation that amount to nothing more than busywork on paper that costs more than it does to send an eight-pound package from Ohio to France.

Today I discovered that my growing friendship for French food is doing me no good. It's a terrible thing when you notice that though you try your hardest to avoid taking that second helping, random blubbery lumps show up where you least expect them, and you haven't the slightest clue where they came from.

Though I do believe I've just come across the reason I've become something resembling a walking, talking amoeba - a rather large package of M&Ms that just arrived in a rather unhealthy package from Dad. Oh, how I love and hate you, Father.

A Few Glimpses of Home

Bonjour, tous!

Since I've been sick the past two days I really should have gotten something done in the way of a post, but I've always been a lazy one, so why stop now?

It's Wednesday again, so generally there would have been three hours of school, but I missed the train again and was still a little sick so I decided to stay home for the first class, which in retrospect was probably not a good idea, but if I had taken the next train I would have missed 3/4 of class anyway and been completely lost. But I did make it to English just in time for the test, which proves I'm the unluckiest person in the world. I stayed home from school two days in a row and had to back out of chorus rehearsal all so I could get better just in time for an English test, which I'm required to complete in French.

After school I didn't do much. I watched a lot of TV and then had a stretch session, which my legs have been needing for a long time. I finished the last season of Avatar, so that makes three whole seasons in about a week. Probably not healthy. I also watched the Parent Trap and Ratatouille today, so I think all in all it was about one of the most pointless days I've ever had. It started to rain as I was walking home and hasn't stopped since.

It also seems as though my host families have decided that they're going to be best friends, and have dragged their charges directly into the middle of the love fest. Not that I mind, of course, because David and Casey are adorable and I love them already, but the parties are kind of getting to me. We spent a very nice two hours or so at the Pagays' house and then just uprooted and were all of a sudden done. Parties here and nothing like parties at home, where everyone starts drinking at 6:00 and then ends up staying until 10:00. No, here they engage in polite conversation until the topics run dry, which they have a tendency to do rather quickly when you're being polite.

Over the weekend I did close to absolutely nothing. Casey spent the night Friday because the Ayets had been invited to a birthday party and without them she can't get to and from Orchestra practice. On Saturday my family took me out for dinner and a little walk around Lyon where I made the most of this French experience by buying two books in English. Now don't judge-I already have two books in French, neither of which I have managed to finish. Besides, both the books I purchased are highly intellectual. Note heavy sarcasm.

I find it rather ironic that in the one place I thought I wouldn't need to run away from my problems, i find myself actually longing for my tennis shoes to arrive. I've been expecting them for some time now, and the longer I sit here at home watching movie after movie the more I wonder why I didn't think to bring them in the first place. I went a whole summer without them-how did I ever think I would manage another year? Well, obviously I was entirely mistaken. I'm pondering going for a walk, which does happen to be something I can do in flip-flops. Maybe I'll head to the Spar in La Tour Centre, and get some chocolate? I feel bad eating the Lindt the Sevils have in their cupboard. I eat far too much as it is.

Another random thought I've come up with, quite on my own-I've always hated having to wait for a break in school until the few days around Thanksgiving, but now I've come to realize that it is, in fact, somewhat of a blessing. Besides the fact that Americans are finished with the school year a month earlier than the French, with the obvious exception of those underclassmen who attend a school which hosts the Baccalaureate each year, Americans have the advantage of not expecting time to pass too quickly. The school year slithers by from August to November in the States, but here, I've been handed an unexpected week and a half-long break in the middle of fall and my brain has already decided it's christmas soon, which couldn't be more inaccurate. Normally, this break would take place around Thanksgiving, and the rest of the country would already be in the holiday spirit. With Halloween behind you and Thanksgiving just ahead, Christmas feels almost just around the corner. But alas, there are still two agonizing months until I get to smell the delicious holiday aromas that I've associated with my favorite time of year from the moment I was born. I've downloaded all the Christmas music I left at home. The Trans-Siberian Orchestra is singled out in my iTunes playlist and Sleigh Ride is on constant repeat in my brain. I think of home and I realize that 102.1 hasn't even started playing Christmas music yet, and they're famous for anticipating the moment most injuriously. But I digress.

I really should be getting on. I leave for a few days in the south of France on Friday, and will certainly post pictures on my Facebook for all to see. I believe my family is taking me to a market of some sort and then for lunch in Italy, so you, my faithful (or not so faithful) readers, will most definitely be hearing about my adventures to come.

And Anthony. Creep off, ok?

Ciao

It's Been Way Too Long

Bonjour de France!

I know I should have done this weeks ago, but I'm finally starting my blog! Aren't you all exited?

I've never done anything like this before, so at least try to bear with me.

Here goes!

It has officially been 44 days since I arrived in France. I've already gone to the Mediterranean, destroyed three pairs of flip-flops, declared war on the French transportation system, and had my first mental breakdown. Privately, of course.

My host parents are Sylvie and Eric Sevil, and they are just about the nicest people I've ever met. I have one host sister who lives at home, a brother who is in business school and (thankfully :-P) only comes home about every three weeks. Of course, Caroline, the other sister, is currently in Pike County, Ohio, trying her best to avoid her family like the plague. She's managed something I have been thus far incapable of doing.

I've been attending Lycée Blaise Pascal for about the past month, but if anyone French asks me where I go to school I have to say Lycée Charbonnières or they'll have no idea what I'm talking about. It's definitely a huge change for me. According to Nicolas there are somewhere between 3,000 and 4,000 students at Blaise Pascal, so it's roughly four or five times the size of the school I went to for 12 years of my life. There's a random waterfall in the one of the two giant winding staircases (which stretch up four floors, by the way-and there's an elevator for the cripples), two computer rooms and, to top it all off, a train station in the school.

I really don't feel like updating everyone on everything I've done in the past month and a half, so I'm just going to leave it with "If you have any questions, ask me personally."

Wednesdays are my favorite days of the week here, because there's no school in the afternoon so I only have three hours of class, but I have to say Fridays are a close second. I have one hour of math at 8, and then afterward I have 5 hours to do as I please. I can go back home and just chill there for a while, or I can go to Lyon and do some sightseeing or shopping, or I can hang out with Aurélie, Nelly, and Justine at one of their houses for lunch. Today the four of us took the bus together to Justine's house. Despite the bus almost breaking down and the fact that it began to rain just as we started walking the rest of the way there, we arrived in one piece. For a while they all worked on their math homework while I tried to explain, poorly and in French, how to do it, but soon we were all hungry and Justine, goddess that she is, made us all steak haché and rice. Steak haché is basically a hamburger but without the bun or any of the toppings-just the steak and occasionally a little bit of salt for seasoning. It's surprisingly good and is very popular here.

Anyway, about halfway through our delicious déjeuner, Justine walks into the foyer and just happens to glance out onto the porch where her gigantic black dog is making his own déjeuner out of my flip-flops. Apparently he has a history of eating flip-flops and I left mine right in the ring of fire.

And now today has been my other favorite day-Wednesday. Sylvie's in Strasbourg for work and Marine left early so I was alone when I woke up this morning, after a very restive 6 1/2 hours of sleep, which is, believe it or not, the most I've gotten in a long time. I had two hours of History and then an hour of English, which are by far my easiest classes of the day, though in History we received somewhat of a disappointing shock. On November 4th, instead of having a normal Wednesday, we're going by Friday's schedule, so instead of a three hour day and an afternoon off, I have a 5 hour day and half the morning. But no matter. It's one missed Wednesday out of who knows how many.

I came home with the intention of having a quick lunch and making a trip into Lyon to change the money Dad sent me yesterday, zipping up to Part Dieu and buying tennis shoes for gym class, but instead I spent an entire hour making and eating gnocchi, sat for half an hour talking to Aanchel about our plans for tonight, and then proceeded to watch the last three Gossip Girls that I've missed lately. So as of now, I'm debating taking a shower and getting all ready for this evening, maybe saving enough time to change my money. I've experienced being completely broke here once already, and I'm going to make sure it doesn't happen again. Only problem is-deciding what to wear :)

More soon!

XOXO