My Last French Blog

Oi vay. So much to say. First off, this is (likely) the last blog you will be getting from me for three weeks. I’d better make it good…

Becky was supposed to be here already. She was supposed to arrive three hours ago, but one of her flights was delayed and she missed the connecting flight. Before I knew this, I was very nervous waiting for her at the airport, I don’t know why. Anyway, that nervousness quickly became worry and confusion when her flight arrived, and she wasn’t on it. Oh well. It’s all good. She managed to send me an email, though it wasn’t too helpful. She said, and I quote, “I’m flying in to Toulouse at 2:40pm,” from Amsterdam. Well. I asked Its Majesty the Almighty Internet (ain’t I savvy?) and it told me there was a flight from Amsterdam to Toulouse that leaves Amsterdam at 2:40pm. There is no flight from Ams to Tls at 2:40. Anyhoo, I’m not going to the airport again until 4:35. So there. It’s sad, because I was gonna show her Toulouse, and now we don’t have much time. Oh well, Toulouse isn’t much to see, anyway. If you’re ever planning a trip to France, don’t go out of your way to come here. Though they do have some nice gardens…le sigh. Hélas.

This last weekend was my very last weekend in Toulouse, but my host parents were out of town, so I had to babysit the kiddies. Meaning I couldn’t go out for a “last weekend” bash. Not that I would have, anyway, but I didn’t have a choice! So Jascha and I decided we would go out Monday night (last night) to make up for it. I had a really good time. We rode bikes (!) all the way into town. The street we took is almost completely flat and mostly straight. It was a really relaxing ride. In town, we met up with Jascha’s friend, Sarah (not to be confused with my British friend named Sarah), and we bought some beers and headed down to the river. I, of course, had to ask (just to be sure) if we could walk around the streets with beers, and Sarah (who is French, btw) laughed and said that was a typically American question. Chez nous, you can’t drink booze except in a private setting, or in an establishment that has a liquor license (I think). Pedestrian imbibing is strictly forbidden.

Anyway, we sat by the river and talked for a bit, all the while noticing occasional flashes of light in the distance. Then the flashes got closer and more frequent, and then it started raining. The rain started fairly light, but the raindrops were big and fat, so we headed to Sarah’s house. Before we got there, it started pouring. Bear in mind that Jascha and I were going to be riding home on bikes. Fun times! So we hung out at Sarah’s for an hour, waiting out the storm, which worked out, and it ended up staying dry for our whole ride home. Thank the Lord! Not that I mind a little rain. I mean, c’mon, I’m from Seattle.

Alright, so I’m gonna wrap this up. My sister and I leave Toulouse tomorrow morning, and embark on a whirlwind, 3-week tour of one quarter of France by train. Wish us luck! Provence, Côte d’Azur, Loire Valley, Brittany, Normandy, and Paris. And then we fly home to SEATTLE!! So, unless I manage to blog sometime during the trip, the next time you’ll hear from me, I’ll no longer be in France. Sad…But then the real adventure begins, because I get to start the job hunt! Yippee!! (That was a sarcastic “yippee,” by the way.)

À bientôt, mes chers amis! Prenez soin de vous.

Sometimes We Amaze Ourselves

So, I don't know how many people in the US follow the World Cup (I know I never have), but the USA remarkably did not lose against Italy yesterday. It was funny watching the reactions of the teams/coaches/fans, considering the fact that it was a tie game (1 to 1). The Italians were all frowns and dejection, but the Americans were nearly ecstatic. Our boys played some really intense defense. I only caught the last third of the game, but the Italians effectively kept the ball on the American side of the field almost the whole time. And though the American offense was almost non-existent, the defense was amazing (at least to my un-trained eye). I was glad to see that we didn't lose, especially because Hercules and Aphrodite were avidly rooting against the Americans (what else is new?)


I took Narcissus into town yesterday to hang out with Sarah and her charge (I forget what nickname I gave him; maybe Joe?). When I first told Narcissus we were going, he threw a fit and refused to go. I had the foresight to tell him about it an hour in advance. I figured I'd let it sink in and hope he'd be willing to go when the time came to leave. Luckily, he was! We put on his roller blades and I pulled him to the train station. I let him wear the roller blades on the train and the metro, and he loved it! He and Joe had a bunch of fun together. In Sarah's words, they were "thick as thieves." I also got to meet Sarah's parents, which was cool. They're from Yorkshire, and I loved her dad's accent. He was so fun to listen to, even if he wasn't saying anything particularly entertaining. He made a delicious Spanish omelette thing. I'm not sure if there's a proper name for it other than "Spanish omelette."


Sarah and I took the boys to the grocery store after lunch, which involved pulling them along behind us. The boys are both extremely competitive, so they were racing the whole time, except that it was Sarah and I who were pulling them, so they kept yelling at us to pass each other. In the grocery store, a Frenchman approached us speaking English with a London accent.

The weather had been indecisive in the morning, so I left the house wearing jeans (which were tight), but then it became downright sweltering. Oh man, I was uncomfortable. When we left for home, it started pouring down rain, which was kinda nice and refreshing. This morning, my arms and shoulders are sore from pulling Narcissus all over the place.

From top: Narcissus on the train;
Narcissus and Joe with creepy, possessed, dancing robot;
Sarah's backyard (Narcissus loved the tractor)

Life Is Good, Though a Wee Bit Crazy

Il pleut. Mais il faisait très chaud aujourd’hui, donc je me plaigne pas. Et en tout cas, j'aime la pluie. C'est le gris que je n'aime pas.

Okay, sorry. I just read a French blog, and now I feel like writing in French. But I’ll spare you all further time wastage.

So…recap. I got to see my dad and Michele and Katie yesterday. They are traveling in France, but their route didn’t reach to Toulouse (it doesn’t really draw many tourists), so I headed to Avignon to see them. It was sooooo nice to see my dad. We walked around Avignon and talked. I hadn’t seen him since the end of August, nearly ten months ago.

Avignon is really pretty, but I wasn’t prepared for how touristy it was. I guess I should expect that for all the towns Becky and I will be going to. Some of them will be much worse, I’m sure. I thought I heard English spoken a lot in Toulouse, but it was everywhere in Avignon. The city was built with a white stone (I don’t know my stone, but my dad thought it might be sandstone). As Toulouse was built almost entirely of red brick, seeing a white city was a bit of change for me. Avignon was built as a closed city, and the protective wall around it still stands. It is most famous for being the seat of the French papacy, back when there were two popes. I feel severely uneducated for having no idea what that’s all about. Two popes? Crazy Europeans. Avignon is also home to the longest river island in France (Ooooooh! Ahhhhhh!). It was a beautiful area, and I’d like to explore it more if I ever get the chance.

My only complaint for the day was the train ride. First of all, I don’t know why on earth they were calling that a TGV, because it’s speed was far short of great. It was the special kind of train that can go fast, but I guess it doesn’t go fast on that particular route. My dad was telling me they took the TGV from Paris to Lyon, and it flew all the way to Lyon. My train stopped in every town along the way and only went the speed of a normal train. Whatever. The train home was not a TGV, and I had to transfer in Narbonne. The layover was only supposed to be 15min, but the connecting train was half an hour late. I didn’t have to be anywhere, but it had already been a longish day. Then, at one point, the train stopped in the middle of a field somewhere. It stopped, and then they turned it off. We sat in a field with no air conditioning, in relatively sweltering heat, for 15min. It didn’t make it any more enjoyable that everyone around me kept making loud exclamations of “Mais qu’est-ce qu’y a?” and “Putain! Qu’est-ce qui se passe?” And then they would all speculate with each other as to why we were stopped, when we probably just had to wait for another train to get out of the station. We were 30min behind schedule, after all, which probably seriously screws up the order in these small-town train stations.

I caught my first ever glimpse of the Mediterranean Sea (from the train), and I saw the Rhone river in Avignon, so I’m pretty pleased with the day. Not to sound uber cheesy, but it was a day that I won’t soon forget and I’ll always (brace yourselves) cherish it.

Yikes. Okay, I’m glad that’s over with. Now I can get on with my life.

More photos on Flickr.

*Snore*

Ooooh man, sooo le tired...I don't think I like trains...more tomor...zzz zzz zzz

That's Right: Your Socks

I have an adventure tomorrow! I get to wake up at 5am! I love waking up at the butt-crack of dawn so much that I only save it for really, really special occasions, like once a never.

I can’t say I’m not a morning person, though, cuz I’m the most productive in the morning. If I don’t make it a good morning, the whole rest of the day is ruined. Yet I can’t get out of bed. Most days, I manage to drag my lazy bum out of bed around 8 or 9 (which really is early for me), but I hate waking up before 7am. If the first number in the time is equal to or less than six, it ain’t happening.

But I’m making an exception tomorrow. I’m making an exception for my father, and he darn well better appreciate it. I’m getting on a bus at 6am, transferring to the subway around 6:20, and hopping on a train to Avignon before 7am. The train won’t arrive at it’s destination until 10am. Ergh…need to pack sandwiches.

But I’m finally seeing another part of France (teehee) and I get to take the TGV. TGV stands for train de grande vitesse, which literally translates to “train of great speed.” They’re clever, these French. No “bullet train” for them. I mean, they couldn’t call it the “super train” or “wonder train” or “train so fast it will literally knock your socks off” or something? It had to be “train of great speed?” Boh-ring!

Okay, later.

Worse Than James Blunt

Today while I was waiting for le métro, a creepy guy came up and stood way closer to me than was necessary. My personal bubble was infringed upon. He stood there for a few seconds, then moved closer and said “bonjour.” Personal bubble officially popped. I ignored him because he creeped me out, but then he started making random noises to get my attention. Luckily, the métro arrived just then, and I found a seat where he couldn’t sit down next to me. But then the woman next to me got off at the next stop, so creepy dude sat down next to me. He relaxed his arms so that his arm was touching mine, even though there was plenty of space and it was avoidable. He tried talking to me while giving me a creepy “I’m hitting on you” smile, but he was mumbling really quietly and I couldn’t understand him, so I just looked at him, gave him a bit of a “what do you want?” glare, and turned away. I'll bet he was mumbling so that I would lean in to hear him. You picked the wrong girl for that, buddy! He was quiet for a minute, then tried again, still practically whispering. This time, I fully glared at him, then looked away. I'm such a brat! After another minute, he tried AGAIN, so I asked him to please, leave me alone. (Yes, I said “please”). He did leave me alone, thank goodness, and I got off the métro without further problems, but it took me a while to shake it off. Blech. I know I should have handled it differently, better, but I was in "scared" mode, and I can't think or act reasonably in that state. Which is worrisome, considering how easily/often I go into "scared" mode.

We are not amused.

We were watching France versus Switzerland in the World Cup earlier, and Athena was saying that if there were a game between France and the US, everyone in the world would cheer for France. I don’t know. I mean, yeah, the majority of the world hates the US, but I’m not entirely convinced that people are all that fond of France. I think we could secure the support of England, Australia, and Mexico, at the very least, if not South American nations, Japan, and perhaps Canada. Athena didn’t think we could get Japan because we dropped two A-bombs on them, but I think Japan has gotten over that really well. We have a great relationship with Japan, now. They love us. We might be able to get Taiwan, too, and some of the Southeast Asian countries. And I’m not sure that India particularly likes us, but what have the French done for them lately?

Actually, I don’t know anything at all about world politics, so I should just go right on ahead and shut up. Still, it irks me how much Athena enjoys watching the US get humiliated. When I walked into the room, she immediately announced that the US had lost last night, then she did her characteristic sadistic, I-derive-pleasure-from-your-pain laugh.

She’s started watching One Tree Hill, lately (called “Les Frères Scott” or “The Scott Brothers”). I mentioned to her last week that I hated the theme song for the show (you know, “I don’t wanna be…” as in “I don’t wanna be alive if I have to listen to this song one more time”). Now she sings it really loud whenever I walk into the room. Why do I continue to give her fodder with which to bug me? Will I never learn?

Wait a second, does "fodder with which to bug me" make any sense? Now I'm seriously paranoid about my English grammar! I see problems where there aren't any! Do I have to say "with which she can bug me" or does "to" suffice? Oh my gosh, I'm losing my mind...and my ability to speak English. Help!

Chillin a la Piscine

I’m twenty pence rich!

Mmm, sugar…Actually, I prefer salt over sugar.

Death by air mattress

Doggie Paddle Frite (Speaking of paddles, have I ever mentioned that I absolutely adore the Tweedle Beetle Battle section in Doctor Seuss’ Red Fish Blue Fish One Fish Two Fish? Pure genius!)

…and stay down!

Épuisé

Drug Store Dreamin'

Dude. I just realized something. I was randomly thinking about RiteAid, which is a drug store in the good ol’ US where they sell all kinds of useless, overpriced ish, and they also have a pharmacy. And I realized that France doesn't have drug stores like ours, and I was kind of excited to go shop at one when I get back to the States.

Okay, let me explain this a little better. I don’t know about the UK, but here in France, you have grocery stores and you have pharmacies. At a pharmacy, you can get prescriptions filled or you can buy various health and beauty products (such as contact lens solution), but that’s about it. At a grocery store, you get mostly everything else, but you can’t get the things you get at a pharmacy. Like contact lens solution. You won’t find it in a grocery store (I’ve looked in at least two). So I don’t know if the UK is like that. But America isn’t.

In America, you can get just about everything in a grocery store, short of prescription drugs. You can get make-up, contact lens solution and over-the-counter medications. And in a drug store, you can get lots of stuff that you can also get in a grocery store, such as shampoo and make-up and contact lens solution, in addition to your over-the-counter or prescription meds. But drug stores also have random stuff, like beach supplies and perfume and electronics. Basically, stuff you don’t know you need until you see it. Also, since there is less stuff in a drug store than a grocery store, there is more room for emphasis on beauty products. If I were in a grocery store, I wouldn’t ever be tempted to buy make-up, but I’m often tempted to buy make-up (that I never wear) in a drug store. So the sole purpose of a drug store is to get you to spend money on stuff you don’t need.

And it works. On me, at least. Everyone thinks Americans are dumb, but we are truly brilliant when it comes to getting you to spend money. We have capitalism down to an art.

Anyway, that was a really random blog. But I guess it’s a sign that I’m getting excited to come home. I can spend money I don’t have on things I don’t need again! Oh geez…you know there’s something really wrong with you when you start fantasizing about shopping at RiteAid.

This photo is completely unrelated to the above entry.

I Love Green

Freaking Cat

Freaking cat is driving me crazy. On Thursday morning, she brought a lizard into the house. He wasn’t quite dead, so I couldn’t work up the nerve to pick him up and carry him outside. I kicked the cat out and waited for Jascha to come pick me up for French class, then asked him to take the lizard out. I’m such a girl.

Yesterday morning, she did it again, but at least there were other people home this time.

This morning, I hear the cat meowing really loud, so I go out to see what’s up, and she has something in her mouth. It wasn’t the right shape for a lizard, and it took me a few seconds to realize it was a tiny bird! Like the lizards, the poor thing was still alive. Stupid cat. At least have the decency to kill it! And learn your lesson, while you’re at it. If you bring two half-dead, twitching animals into the house, and everyone screams and yells at you and kicks you out of the house, they probably won’t appreciate it the third time, either!

We’re reading a children’s story in French class about a cat who keeps bringing dead animals into the house. It’s a hilarious story called “Diary of a Killer Cat” by English author Anne Fine.

Side note: I tried to type “an” before “hilarious,” and MS Word grammar check didn’t like it. Are we not putting “an” before h’s now? Or is there a rule about certain h’s getting “a” and others getting “an”? Or is that just a British thing? Or is Microsoft just dumb? Or am I tragically old-fashioned?

Speaking of pets, Jody informs me that we now have another dog. And apparently my mom tried to bring home a cat, but Jody talked her out of it. Jody, you are my savior. I’m only mildly allergic to cats, but I’m severely allergic to our house, and I’d like to avoid adding allergens to the already-lethal mix. That house should be condemned. I’m not entirely thrilled about moving back there in four weeks, especially considering the fact that I don’t have health insurance to pay for allergy medications, but what can you do?

Dogs are fine. I’m not allergic, and they don’t bring small, twitching animals into the house. Sure, sometimes they eat their own caca, but somehow their mouths are still cleaner than human mouths.

Don't You Wish I'd Shut Up, Already?

Urgh. I’m a little sad and starting to get cabin fever. I’ve been in the house all weekend. Okay, it’s only Saturday, but everything’s closed Sunday, so I don’t see myself getting out tomorrow. I was gonna go roller-blading with Sarah last night, but my host parents asked me to babysit last minute. Since they almost never ask me to babysit, I felt I should oblige. Sarah and I were gonna go to Albi today, but she had forgotten she had to go to a birthday party. So sad, so sad. It’s particularly sad because next weekend is my last weekend in Toulouse, and I have to babysit the whole weekend! Even Friday night!

Sigh. Life is good, though; I shouldn’t be complaining. My dad is coming to visit me next Thursday, and Becky will be here the following Tuesday, and then it’s off to beaches, castles, more beaches, and gay Paris! And then home, to the good ol’ US of A and my mommy and my sisters and my friends. Yahoo! (If only Izzi were there, too, twould be perfect.)

Anyhoo, I’m mostly feeling sad and cabin feverish because of PMS, so it’ll pass soon enough. And it appears that the mediatheque is open for a couple hours on Sundays, so maybe I’ll head over there. Yeeessssss, I think I will…

Jody has brought it to my attention that apparently I make grammatical errors in my writing that are of a sort and quantity as to make it clear that my English is suffering. Izzi used to whine that “they” were getting into her head. Meaning the French and their silly language, of course. I think Jody’s full of it. I’ve always had typos, and seeing as how I refuse to edit or proofread anything, well, the typos don’t get fixed. But then, she’s not totally full of it, because I, too, have noticed lately that I’ve been switching words. Or rather, spellings. For example, instead of “no,” I write “know.” Instead of “write,” I write “right.” I use “there” for “their” and “their” for “they’re.” I don’t normally have this problem, or at least not as bad, so maybe “they” are getting into my head. Which I’m sort of annoyed by, because I’m proud of my impeccable grammar and spelling, but I’m also happy, because I feel kind of…I don’t know...worldly, in a good way.

Which reminds me: the other day, I had to call an auberge de jeunesse (youth hostel) to make a reservation. Speaking a foreign language on the telephone is no piece of cake, and when I answer the phone, I usually have to say at some point, “Sorry, I don’t understand. I don’t speak French well.” But when I made the reservation, I actually got through the whole phone call without having to apologize or ask the woman to repeat herself three times. I did ask if we would be sleeping in a dormatoire, which apparently isn’t a word, or doesn’t mean what it does in English, but she understood what I was talking about so it was all good. I’m so proud of myself! I love it when French people can understand me! Which reminds me of another story [collective sigh]: that same day, I went to a French conversation group. There was a mix of French people and non-French people. Someone asked me some questions, and when I responded, one of the French guys asked me how long I’d been in France. When I said “nine months,” he said, “So you must have studied French before you came here.” Aw, how sweet! All in all, Thursday was a very ego-boosting day for me.

Okay, enough gloating. I gotta go to bed. Everyone go to this website and wish my sis a happy birthday.

Fiery Goblets

Ahhhhhhhhh. Star Wars III has (happily) been replaced with Harry Potter 4. Such an improvement! I’m far more willing to watch a Harry Potter movie twice in one day than a Star Wars movie (well, the new ones).

The boys watched The Goblet of Fire (La Coupe de Feu) all the way up to the last 15 minutes, when their mom pulled them out to run errands. So this evening, Narcissus started the film again, at the beginning, because he hadn’t seen the end (makes perfect sense, huh?) He watched it through a second time, all the way up to the last 15 minutes, THEN GOT BORED! I could not believe it! The child with the endless attention span.

Whatever. I’m over it.

Oh my gosh, the weather has been so fantastic. The pool is roughly 75 degrees Fahrenheit (25 centigrade). As my German friend, Ingo, once said (in reference to the Great Salt Lake), “Pee-warm.” Ah, Ingo. He’s a hoot.

I went swimming after the sun went down and wasn’t the least bit cold, either in the pool or standing outside it soaking wet. Not to rub it in anyone’s face, or anything. I just think you should know what the weather is like in the southwest of France. For educational purposes, you know?

Blahbety blah blah

Nothing to report today. It was a slow, but lovely day. [Distinguished Reader lets out huge sigh of relief.]

The arrow means “look! Flowers!” You see, I live in a ville fleurié, a distinction bestowed on any town that goes out of its way to plant flowers in visible spots. Then they put up these little blue signs to point the flowers out, in case you missed them. Either that, or it’s telling you to drive on the right. Can’t be sure.

How can any child be expected to get through this book? Who has the attention span? Something tells me we won't finish it in the next two weeks. We're on page 62, and we only ever read four or five pages in a day. Only 702 still to go!

Another Weekend Recap (Hopefully Not Boring)

I wanted to find some scientific journal articles, so I headed to a university in Toulouse on Saturday to check their library. I caught a bus that dropped me somewhere among a bunch of student housing. I had no idea where a library might be located, or even where I was located, so I just wandered around for a while. There was a whole heck of a lot of student housing! It took me forever to find a building that wasn’t student housing. Goodness sakes, where do the classes take place? The whole place looked deserted, which made it harder to figure out where a library might be. I eventually found one and spent a little while in there looking for scientific journals, but it turned out the bulk of them were located in another library about a mile away in the medical part of the university. This part looked deserted, too, but I trudged up a huge flight of stairs to get to the library, assuming that, like the other one, this library only looked deserted. The flight of stairs was reminiscent of the stairs from Montlake Boulevard to the HUB at UW, but not quite as tall. Anyway, I got to the top only to find the library was indeed deserted, as it’s closed on weekends. How are students supposed to study all weekend long if the library’s closed? So my morning was sort of wasted, though I did see a new part of Toulouse. I passed some genetics laboratories on the way back, and it made me really excited about coming home and getting back into a lab. It also made me wish I’d had more guts back in September to come and beg someone to let me volunteer in their lab a couple days a week. Alas.
 

In the afternoon, I took my bike to our neighbor village, where Jody used to live. I love the road that connects our towns! One part of it runs through a wooded area, so there’s a green canopy overhead. Then it opens out into a big field with an old farmhouse. There were rolls of hay forming a line across the field. So beautiful! Anyway, I went to the town because they were hosting a festival against violence. There were a bunch of booths from different social organizations. There were two women playing really pretty songs on steel drums, so I watched them for a while, but there was this little boy who was screaming at his mother and hitting her. She ignored him for a while (even though he was disturbing everyone from hearing the music), then she totally started yelling at him. Hello, non-violence?

In the evening, Sarah and I went to small concert, with two acts. The first was a trio that played Spanish guitar music (which I love but it was lulling me to sleep) and the second was a “jazz fusion” group. It was a group of young adults playing really fun, unconventional songs with jazz instruments. They were all dressed up in old-fashioned clothes and costumes and would dance around and interact with each other while playing. It was really entertaining and woke me up after the soothing Spanish music.

Afterwards, Sarah and I went back to the gay nightclub with a big group of people. We talked and danced, then sat out on their fake beach (!) as the sun came up. I was mildly bored, but at the same time, happy to finally be in a discotheque in France. And there was sand and beach chairs!

On Sunday, I went sailing (I sail!) with Aphrodite, who screamed at me the whole time. It was alright, though, because I was screaming right back at her. We were on a little lake and there was almost no wind, so my inability to sail wasn’t too much of a problem.

Today is a holiday here in France (lazy, lazy, lazy), but it’s a really funny holiday. You see, it’s the Pentecost, which has traditionally been a jour ferié. But a couple years ago, somebody decided that it was a dumb holiday and that everyone should have to work. In addition, they decided that everyone should have to work for free, and the money they would have earned for the day will be donated by their employer to…I don’t remember…old people or something. So it’s like social security, in a way. Not really. Anyhoo, not many people were pleased with this, but for the big companies like Airbus or the train company SNCF, they don’t have a choice. So half of France had the day off, and the other half (poor suckers) had to work. For free. The SNCF people were pissed about it, though, so they struck a bargain: they would work one extra minute for free, each day of the year in order to be able to have today off. Goofballs. An extra minute? Seriously, people? The library I was trying to go to had a sign in the window saying they would be closed today. Their solution for being forced to work for free? The typical French solution: la grève.

Anyway, the kids didn’t have school, and I didn’t have French class, so Sarah and her little charge (5-year-old English boy) came over to play and swim. They came over once before, and Narcissus loved it. He didn’t want them to leave and kept going on about Sarah’s charge (let’s call him Joe). Today, Narcissus kept following Joe around. It was so sweet! But I’m not sure that Joe feels the same about Narcissus. I think he only likes Narcissus for his swimming pool and toys. Joe’s mother is a pacifist and doesn’t let him play any violent games, whereas Narcissus pretty much only plays violent games. He loves running around the house with a kitchen utensil as une arme, chasing invisible bad guys. [Sarah was saying “baddies” the other day instead of “bad guys” and I think that’s so cute! Baddies. How British!]

jour ferié: bank holiday, day off
la grève: strike
une arme: weapon

Feeling A Little Under the Blog

Hm, I really haven’t been inspired to blog lately. In fact, this week, I’ve spent far less time on my computer than normal. I haven’t blogged or visited any of my favorite blogs in a while. I don’t know what’s gotten into me. It’s like I’m spontaneously kicking this addiction, cold-turkey.

Last night, there was a free concert in town. It featured a French singer (Amel Bent) and Daniel Powter (he who croons “Jimmy Gets High” and “Bad Day”). I went with Sarah, her Lebanese friend Mansur, and Jascha. Sarah, Mansur and I all had a good time, dancing like goof balls because we didn’t actually know any of the songs except the two mentioned above. We were determined to have a good time. Jascha stood somewhat behind us, perfectly still through the whole concert, a serious expression on his face. At one point, he had his eyes closed.

“Sleeping?” I asked.

“Just feeling the music.” Whatever.

The general consensus was that Amel Bent was a good singer, but was cursed with lame songs (as are most French musicians), and Daniel Powter is gay and has “lumberjack arms” (in Jascha’s words). After the concert, Sarah, Mansur, and I headed off to a nightclub where Sarah was meeting a couple people. The nightclub was a “gay-friendly” club (though I guess not an outright gay club), so there were a few interesting characters to watch. There was one guy dressed in tight, white pants, a white jacket, and a white pimp hat. By the way he dressed and danced, he clearly considered Michael Jackson to be his role-model.

Sarah is very worried that she has corrupted me by taking me to this place and introducing me to my first transsexual. Actually, this person was somewhere between being transsexual and transgender, but I’m not really sure how far she(he) had gone in the whole switcheroo. Part of me would rather not know, but then again, I am really curious by nature…

Anyhoo, that’s all I have to say for now, which, quite frankly, surprises me. Oh well.

Random anecdote: when Narcissus and I got home today, Athena was sunbathing with six friends. Narcissus, anxious and confused and not recognizing his sister among all the scantily-clad fifteen-year-olds, asked, “Who do all these girls belong to?”

Official Star Wars Episode III count: currently at seven times in five days