Well, I've been officially on winter break for a few days.
Quick updates:
Went to a formal dance at my school. Got dressed up with al my friends, had a great dinner, unlimited champagne, and danced until 4 in the morning
It snowed maybe 2 or 3 inches here in Reims and the whole city freaked out. Buses stopped running, yet women still wore their high heels. I really don't get it...
I slept over my wonderful friend Victoria's apartment this weekend. We were both going to be in Reims alone, so we made a sleepover party out of it. Had a great time. It's really nice to eat meals with someone.
It's 6:20 AM and I'm up and at 'em. Meeting Hannah in Paris for the start of our adventures. We'll stay in Paris for two days, and then we ship off to Prague! Between the two of us, I'm willing to bet that a few thousand pictures will be taken.
Enjoy the break. Enjoy the snow. Love the one your with
Dena
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
Saturday, December 12, 2009
Taking the initiative
So, last night I was kind of bummed out. School has been stressing me out a great deal, along with the recent updates of getting rejected by L'Oreal (although that was no surprise) and that I may not be able to have my dream job at the sneaker magazine because they already have 2 interns starting in January. I'm still hoping for it to happen because it sounds like they really want me to work there, but they have to figure out the logistics of it all.
So, anyways, last night I was not the happiest of happy campers. I heard word that everyone was going to go to a club. The thing is though, nationalities tend to stick together. Don't get me wrong, the Americans here are great, but I wanted to branch out a bit. I ended up chatting with a French girl in my class, and sort of invited myself to hang out with the French kids before the club.
It was SO much fun. We played all sorts of games, danced to terrible ABBA songs, and made great conversation. It only took me 3 months to really take my own initiative to make non-English speaking friends. I think I'm going to try to continue taking that route.
Well, much homework to do, meaning more coffee to brew...
So, anyways, last night I was not the happiest of happy campers. I heard word that everyone was going to go to a club. The thing is though, nationalities tend to stick together. Don't get me wrong, the Americans here are great, but I wanted to branch out a bit. I ended up chatting with a French girl in my class, and sort of invited myself to hang out with the French kids before the club.
It was SO much fun. We played all sorts of games, danced to terrible ABBA songs, and made great conversation. It only took me 3 months to really take my own initiative to make non-English speaking friends. I think I'm going to try to continue taking that route.
Well, much homework to do, meaning more coffee to brew...
Thursday, December 10, 2009
I'm still alive, don't worry.
Forgive me Bloggers, for I have sinned, it’s been WAY too long since my last confession.
THANKSGIVING! Well, as every good American should, I went to Scotland for Dia de los Turkeys. I have a friend from high school, Collin, who is studying in Glasgow. So, naturally, I invited myself over. Friday morning I wake up bright and early (5:30 is an unnatural time to wake up. It just ain’t right) and schlep myself to the train station here in Reims. There, I wait for a while because I just can’t handle the stress of possibly being late during traveling. I have a lovely train ride. The train whizzes through the scenic countryside of the Champagne region, passing miles upon miles upon mi- oh wait... I’m now living in France- there aren’t any miles here... The train whizzes through the scenic countryside of the Champagne region, passing kilometers upon kilometers of browning vineyards, dying from the cold air brought by winter. I nod in and out of consciousness during the 45-minute train ride to Paris.
I arrive at Gare de l’Est and start my pilgrimage to Charles de Gaulle, which is quite the process. Luckily, I now know my way around. Heh heh heh. I smugly walk exactly where I need to go, and buy exactly which train tickets I need to buy. I hop on the metro and go to Gare de Nord. From there, I easily buy my RER B tickets as if I possessed the wisdom of sages. The RER is like the commuter rail, only there are tons of lines that go to tons of Parisian suburbs and the airport. I finagle my way through the crowded metro station and eventually end up on the train headed towards the airport. After an unexciting RER ride filled with street performances (these Portuguese guys hopped on at one point, as they do most every day, and set up a little jazz concert- i’m talking full blown concert complete with an upright double bass... seems horribly inconvenient for the guy who has to lug that bad boy around trains all day...) For those of you just tuning in, the airport to Reims pilgrimage has been quite the experience for me. Being able to bang out the journey with zero problems or confusion is amazingly satisfying for me.
I arrive at Chahles duh Gawl ayahpawt. So, the funny thing about me traveling in Europe is that I still have an American mentality. I thought the whole process of getting from point A to B (my dorm to the airport) would take FOREVER! I was MISTAKEN! I ended up at the airport a mere 4 hours early. Not a problem. I lounge and people watch. I eventually board the bright orange EasyJet plane headed to Glasgow. I find a seat and make myself comfortable. I take a sip of water, which almost immediately comes up my nose as the flight attendants start speaking. Let me tell you folks, Scottish accents are quite possibly the funniest thing EVER. I know that’s a strong statement, but I’ll stick by it. It was a 2 hour plane ride (or so.. I forget. I wasn’t really keeping track) and we land in Glasgow. Collin meets me at the airport and we head towards the exit. It looked like it had just rained, which in fact was true. We walk outside and there, quite honestly, was the biggest rainbow that I’ve ever seen. I bet you there other end of it was in Ireland, and a leprechaun was actually guarding a pot of gold.
We go to Collins “flat” and settle down. At that point I’m like a starvin’ marvin’. We all (including his lovely flat-mate Laura) go grocery shopping. We’re in the grocery store, stocking up on Thanksgiving supplies and whatnots, and I find a few gems that really hit the spot. Firstly: Reeses Peanut Butter Cups. I don’t really even eat THAT much candy at home, but this was like... godsent. Second: Chili seasoning mix. I make chili all the time back home, but I haven’t been able to find any mixes, and I’m far too lazy to make my own. Third: CHEDDAR CHEESE. Hot damn that’s a mighty fine cheese. I miss it so. They don’t have cheddar here. I’ve been using Gouda, which is a fairly decent substitute, but it’s not quite right.
The next day we start cooking bright and early. Well, realistically it was probably at around 11 or so. We made so much amazing food, including a whole, stuffed chicken that was cooked to PERFECTION, tons of roasted veggies, tofurky stuff, stuffing, soup, mashed spudadoes, eggplant, kale, etc... A few of Collin’s friends came over and we had ourselves a regular ole Thanksgiving 3 PM dinner. We all STUFFED ourselves silly (HAH! Pun was intended on that one) and then submitted to the itis that plagued us all. (The itis is the condition in which one is immediately sleepy after eating). We spread blankets out on the floor and proceeded to watch Revenge of the Nerds. I now realize that I may have seen that movie too many times. Apparently I can recite it by heart. I don’t know if that makes me super awesome, or super pathetic.
Interesting thing about Scotland: They drink this drink called Iron-Bru. It’s more popular than Coke there. It’s orange and supposed to be a “citrus” flavored soda, which for the record, it totally isn’t. It also has this miracle ingredient that the entire country swears by. Why, you ask? It cures hangovers. Here’s where the ridiculousness reaches a higher level: It tastes like children’s toothpaste- either the electric blue gel kind, or Barbie Bubblegum. I promise you, it’s the weirdest thing that I have ever drunken. Scotland, home of Iron-Bru: the orange colored, bubblemint flavored, effervescent, hangover-curing beverage of choice. Weird.
The rest of the trip was really fun. Another fun fact: There's a TJ Maxx in Glasgow, but with just a subtle difference. It's called TK Maxx. Exact same store but with a different letter. I had a great time exploring the quirky and slightly absurd city of Glasgow. Thanks again Collin!
I flew back to Paris that Monday, and booked it over to an interview at a sneaker magazine. I had met the manager of Promotion and Development at the Colette x Reebok party I went to a few weeks ago in Paris, where I got his business card. I followed through, sent him my CV, and we set up a tentative interview. I managed to find my way to where I needed to go. The office was in a typical, apartment style building of Paris. I walk up a flight of stairs and ring the buzzer outside the door. A young guy who seems to know that I’m here for the interview greets me. The office is amazing! The walls are brightly colored with awesome art. The archway leading into another room looks like it’s made of giant stones, but the giant stones are sneaker boxes! I kind of want to do that to a room in my own home someday. The interview was quick and painless. He asked me to create a job proposal and send it to him. I sent it Thursday night at midnight. I hope it wasn’t too late... I’m still waiting to hear back from him. I want that job SO badly. I know I would do so well there, work so hard, and be so happy with the type of work.
That same week I had another interview at a mega-super-international-prestigious enterprise in Paris. I left the interview not feeling to confident about it. It would be great to work there too, but I have the feeling that I won’t be offered the job.
In the meanwhile, the amount of schoolwork that I have just might be enough to make me kick the bucket. 13 full classes, a few seminar classes, 6 major group projects consisting of 20 page minimum papers (keep in mind that EVERYTHING is in French), plus needing to study for exams. I’m in school for 30 hours per week. That’s crazy! On an interesting note, I found out that I graduate Northeastern a semester early. Here’s the deal... I’m almost positive I want to stay here in France for my senior year. I would graduate NU abroad, and continue to finish out the spring semester here in France in order to fulfill the required credits for this school. I wouldn’t have to pay NU tuition that second semester, and I’d end up graduating with two diplomas, and being that much closer to my lifelong dream of being bilingual. We’ll see though. I have to pass all of my classes this year in order to stay.
Well, my final cup of coffee has begun to wear off. I’ve had 3 coffees and a double shot of espresso today. I’m going to start trying this whole new approach called Get More Sleep. And on that note, g’night!
Wishing everyone a Happy Hanukkah (on Friday) and happy days.
Dena
THANKSGIVING! Well, as every good American should, I went to Scotland for Dia de los Turkeys. I have a friend from high school, Collin, who is studying in Glasgow. So, naturally, I invited myself over. Friday morning I wake up bright and early (5:30 is an unnatural time to wake up. It just ain’t right) and schlep myself to the train station here in Reims. There, I wait for a while because I just can’t handle the stress of possibly being late during traveling. I have a lovely train ride. The train whizzes through the scenic countryside of the Champagne region, passing miles upon miles upon mi- oh wait... I’m now living in France- there aren’t any miles here... The train whizzes through the scenic countryside of the Champagne region, passing kilometers upon kilometers of browning vineyards, dying from the cold air brought by winter. I nod in and out of consciousness during the 45-minute train ride to Paris.
I arrive at Gare de l’Est and start my pilgrimage to Charles de Gaulle, which is quite the process. Luckily, I now know my way around. Heh heh heh. I smugly walk exactly where I need to go, and buy exactly which train tickets I need to buy. I hop on the metro and go to Gare de Nord. From there, I easily buy my RER B tickets as if I possessed the wisdom of sages. The RER is like the commuter rail, only there are tons of lines that go to tons of Parisian suburbs and the airport. I finagle my way through the crowded metro station and eventually end up on the train headed towards the airport. After an unexciting RER ride filled with street performances (these Portuguese guys hopped on at one point, as they do most every day, and set up a little jazz concert- i’m talking full blown concert complete with an upright double bass... seems horribly inconvenient for the guy who has to lug that bad boy around trains all day...) For those of you just tuning in, the airport to Reims pilgrimage has been quite the experience for me. Being able to bang out the journey with zero problems or confusion is amazingly satisfying for me.
I arrive at Chahles duh Gawl ayahpawt. So, the funny thing about me traveling in Europe is that I still have an American mentality. I thought the whole process of getting from point A to B (my dorm to the airport) would take FOREVER! I was MISTAKEN! I ended up at the airport a mere 4 hours early. Not a problem. I lounge and people watch. I eventually board the bright orange EasyJet plane headed to Glasgow. I find a seat and make myself comfortable. I take a sip of water, which almost immediately comes up my nose as the flight attendants start speaking. Let me tell you folks, Scottish accents are quite possibly the funniest thing EVER. I know that’s a strong statement, but I’ll stick by it. It was a 2 hour plane ride (or so.. I forget. I wasn’t really keeping track) and we land in Glasgow. Collin meets me at the airport and we head towards the exit. It looked like it had just rained, which in fact was true. We walk outside and there, quite honestly, was the biggest rainbow that I’ve ever seen. I bet you there other end of it was in Ireland, and a leprechaun was actually guarding a pot of gold.
We go to Collins “flat” and settle down. At that point I’m like a starvin’ marvin’. We all (including his lovely flat-mate Laura) go grocery shopping. We’re in the grocery store, stocking up on Thanksgiving supplies and whatnots, and I find a few gems that really hit the spot. Firstly: Reeses Peanut Butter Cups. I don’t really even eat THAT much candy at home, but this was like... godsent. Second: Chili seasoning mix. I make chili all the time back home, but I haven’t been able to find any mixes, and I’m far too lazy to make my own. Third: CHEDDAR CHEESE. Hot damn that’s a mighty fine cheese. I miss it so. They don’t have cheddar here. I’ve been using Gouda, which is a fairly decent substitute, but it’s not quite right.
The next day we start cooking bright and early. Well, realistically it was probably at around 11 or so. We made so much amazing food, including a whole, stuffed chicken that was cooked to PERFECTION, tons of roasted veggies, tofurky stuff, stuffing, soup, mashed spudadoes, eggplant, kale, etc... A few of Collin’s friends came over and we had ourselves a regular ole Thanksgiving 3 PM dinner. We all STUFFED ourselves silly (HAH! Pun was intended on that one) and then submitted to the itis that plagued us all. (The itis is the condition in which one is immediately sleepy after eating). We spread blankets out on the floor and proceeded to watch Revenge of the Nerds. I now realize that I may have seen that movie too many times. Apparently I can recite it by heart. I don’t know if that makes me super awesome, or super pathetic.
Interesting thing about Scotland: They drink this drink called Iron-Bru. It’s more popular than Coke there. It’s orange and supposed to be a “citrus” flavored soda, which for the record, it totally isn’t. It also has this miracle ingredient that the entire country swears by. Why, you ask? It cures hangovers. Here’s where the ridiculousness reaches a higher level: It tastes like children’s toothpaste- either the electric blue gel kind, or Barbie Bubblegum. I promise you, it’s the weirdest thing that I have ever drunken. Scotland, home of Iron-Bru: the orange colored, bubblemint flavored, effervescent, hangover-curing beverage of choice. Weird.
The rest of the trip was really fun. Another fun fact: There's a TJ Maxx in Glasgow, but with just a subtle difference. It's called TK Maxx. Exact same store but with a different letter. I had a great time exploring the quirky and slightly absurd city of Glasgow. Thanks again Collin!
I flew back to Paris that Monday, and booked it over to an interview at a sneaker magazine. I had met the manager of Promotion and Development at the Colette x Reebok party I went to a few weeks ago in Paris, where I got his business card. I followed through, sent him my CV, and we set up a tentative interview. I managed to find my way to where I needed to go. The office was in a typical, apartment style building of Paris. I walk up a flight of stairs and ring the buzzer outside the door. A young guy who seems to know that I’m here for the interview greets me. The office is amazing! The walls are brightly colored with awesome art. The archway leading into another room looks like it’s made of giant stones, but the giant stones are sneaker boxes! I kind of want to do that to a room in my own home someday. The interview was quick and painless. He asked me to create a job proposal and send it to him. I sent it Thursday night at midnight. I hope it wasn’t too late... I’m still waiting to hear back from him. I want that job SO badly. I know I would do so well there, work so hard, and be so happy with the type of work.
That same week I had another interview at a mega-super-international-prestigious enterprise in Paris. I left the interview not feeling to confident about it. It would be great to work there too, but I have the feeling that I won’t be offered the job.
In the meanwhile, the amount of schoolwork that I have just might be enough to make me kick the bucket. 13 full classes, a few seminar classes, 6 major group projects consisting of 20 page minimum papers (keep in mind that EVERYTHING is in French), plus needing to study for exams. I’m in school for 30 hours per week. That’s crazy! On an interesting note, I found out that I graduate Northeastern a semester early. Here’s the deal... I’m almost positive I want to stay here in France for my senior year. I would graduate NU abroad, and continue to finish out the spring semester here in France in order to fulfill the required credits for this school. I wouldn’t have to pay NU tuition that second semester, and I’d end up graduating with two diplomas, and being that much closer to my lifelong dream of being bilingual. We’ll see though. I have to pass all of my classes this year in order to stay.
Well, my final cup of coffee has begun to wear off. I’ve had 3 coffees and a double shot of espresso today. I’m going to start trying this whole new approach called Get More Sleep. And on that note, g’night!
Wishing everyone a Happy Hanukkah (on Friday) and happy days.
Dena
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