Yikes- was my last blog posting really July 1st? I am slacking... big time! Updates upon updates:
4th o' July
July 4th, the American day of Independence (and subsequently one of my favorite holidays) was strange for me. I gathered up my American friends for a picnic in front of the Eiffel Tower. It was really nice- we drank lots of wine, ate lots of food, and I even managed to spit a few watermelon seeds (in the spirit of America, of course). There were other Americans out and celebrating, but I really lacked the festive energy that I am so accustomed to. It was fairly blasé. Fun, but uneventful.
Road-trip to the Netherlands
The following weekend, I went on a little roadtrip to the Netherlands with a group of 8 friends from school. We rented 2 cars, squished into them, and fled the city of Paris. We drove through France and into Belgium, stopping at a truck stop to refill the tank and our stomachs. I found a candybar for sale called Big Nuts. Naturally, I started laughing hysterically, yet no one followed suit. I then proceeded to explain the sexual innuendo to my French and Spanish friends/car-mates, and thus became a source of hours of amusement and joking. We piled back into the car and drove, finally arriving in the Netherlands sometime after midnight.We arrived in the small town of Tilburg where my Dutch friend Niki's cousin lives. We were to stay at his apartment studio, and sleep on whatever surface we could find. The 2nd car of friends finally arrived, and we all sat down for a drink. We quickly got changed, and out we went. We had an amazing night there- the music in the bars and clubs that we went to was amazing. Drinking ensued (not me though... I wasn't really in the mood) and everyone started to really... loosen up. We danced for hours and hours, literally shutting down the bar. We walked home at around 5 am, fell into our sleeping arrangements, and took a nap. I don't think you can consider it actually going to sleep, but we dozed off for a few hours.
We woke up at around 8 or 9, and the girls went on an exploration to the grocery store to buy goods for breakfast. We got a bit lost, and probably spent a bit too much time getting food, but eventually made our way back to the apartment. I have to say, that was the first time in my life that I've ever seen so many bicycles. There were bikes for as far as the eye could see. The roads and traffic were designed to accommodate this national biking phenomenon. It was unreal, truly unreal. So, we eat breakfast, pack our things, and smushed back into the two cars. We drive for about an hour or so until we reach the city of Utrecht where we met Niki's friend Mark. He graciously allowed us to stay at his apartment for the night. We dropped our stuff off, and headed out the door by foot. It was a beautiful yet quirky walk. Again, bicycles were everywhere. Gorgeous flowers were in bloom, ducks swam in the canals, and the color orange became incredibly apparent. There were orange flags and balloons all over the place as everyone was getting ready for the World Cup final match the next day. We continued our walk to the train station and stopped at a store to buy drinks. Niki bought a quart of what looked like an orange juice container but in fact was yogurt. So, for the remainder of our lovely walk on a sunny, 85° day, Niki drank his quart of yogurt with a smile on his face. Call me strange, but I found it to be hilarious. We arrived at the train station, bought our tickets, and raced to hop on the train to Amsterdam. It was a short train ride, and shortly we found ourselves in one of the most famous cities in the world, notorious for legal prostitution and marijuana. Of course we witnessed those things, but the city itself was beautiful! Everyone was biking, or puttering down the canals on small boats or rafts. It was quite Huck Finn actually. Everyone, and I do mean everyone, was dressed in some sort of orange garment. We explored the city, heard an amazing musician performing in the street, laid down in a park, and enjoyed having the freedom to do as we pleased. The afternoon passed by quickly, and it soon became night. The sky grew heavy and it began to pour. We raced for cover and ended up in a bar. We had a drink, but it became evident that we were all exhausted. I may or may not have fallen asleep on the table out of sheer exhaustion.We schleped to the station and hopped on a train back to Utrecht.
After an actual night of sleeping, we awoke feeling refreshed. We piled back in the cars and drove down to Breda, the city where Niki studied. If I had thought that everyone was wearing orange the previous day, I was mistaken. Now, everyone was really wearing orange and anxiously anticipating the big game. Breda was a cool town with many restaurants and a gorgeous park. We decided to take advantage of not having anything to do until gametime, and relaxed in the park for a few hours. It was wonderful. After a few hours, we headed off to meet with Niki's family that had driven to see him. It was great to see them again (I had met them prior and love them!). We had a bite to eat and then went to the main plaza in town where a giant screen was set up to watch the game. Unfortunately we arrived too late, and the plaza was already at capacity. We found another corner in town that was essentially a giant outdoor blockparty. There was orange everywhere (obviously) but to the extent of which it started to hurt my eyes! It's a harsh color. We packed in with the crowd and watched the game. It was fun being in a country that is in the midst of such an important event. Everyone was generally friendly, except for the Dutch girls. They were terrible. My back began to really really hurt at one point, and I needed to find someplace to sit. My friend and I made our way through the crowd and tried to get into the bar- the only people that gave us a hard time were the blond Dutch girls who literally were shoving us and giving us the stank eye. Not such a fan. We watched the game from inside the bar. I had warned my Spanish friend Victoria that she cannot root for Spain and must be very careful. She did a great job of containing her excitement when Spain won. It was quite depressing to be around all of the Dutch people though- but probably not as depressing as they felt at the time. The game ended later than expected, and we raced to our cars. We drove throughout the night, alternating drivers and people to keep the drivers awake. We arrived in Versailles at 5:30 am to drop off one of the girls. We slept for an hour at her house, and then hit the road back to Paris. It was brutal. We finally made it to the rental car agency at La Defense after having gotten lost, and refilling the car, at around 8:15 am. We paid, and then walked umbrella-less through the rain with all of our bags. It must have been quite a site to see us 5 girls carrying bags and air-mattresses, drenched and exhausted, while the businessmen raced to grab a croissant before heading into the office. I took the metro straight to work, arriving at 9:20AM with bigger bags under my eyes than in my hands. I couldn't keep my eyes open for the life of me, and my boss graciously let me go home before lunch. It was an amazing weekend that I won't ever forget.
Other news
I received all of my grades and letters of acceptance, and I am officially enrolled at RMS for my final year of undergraduate school. Now all I need to do is get an apartment (the story about that is so long and frustrating that I don't even have the energy to tell it again) and renew my visa (again, the story about this is so long and frustrating that... well, you get the drift). In two weeks I'm going to Berlin for the weekend, and I am SUPER excited. The weekend after that we head off to Milan where one of my oldest childhood friends will be meeting up with me on her way back to the States from having been living in Israel. My dad bought my tickets home yesterday, so I'll be in America the first two weeks of August.
I can't believe I really managed to do all of this... living, studying, and working in a foreign country by myself. I had a surrealistic moment yesterday morning while on the escalator to my metro. I really live in Paris. This is my life. I'm not just a tourist, or on a silly "study" abroad program for a few months. I'm in France. I did it. I really did it.
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
Thursday, July 1, 2010
Weevils and rose chafers
I've been having to translate this rather scientific article for one of the magazines at work, and let's just say my brain can't take it anymore! This article (in French) is written by a professional, French journalist and uses rather precise and scientific terms. Clearly there are many words that I just don't know, so I've been using online dictionaries as aid. The last few words I had to translate... well... let's just say they were the straw that broke the camels back. I'm dying of laughter! It's just all too ridiculous.
And these, my loyal readers, are the words that needed translating..
ténébrions- darklings
charançons- weevils
cétoines- rose chafers
what the what?!?!
ahahahhah weevils :)
Turns out these are all varieties of beetles... just so you know
And these, my loyal readers, are the words that needed translating..
ténébrions- darklings
charançons- weevils
cétoines- rose chafers
what the what?!?!
ahahahhah weevils :)
Turns out these are all varieties of beetles... just so you know
Hey, remember that time when I went to Boston for the weekend?
A few weeks ago, my dad and I pulled of an EXCELLENT surprise. And the story begins...
It was the weekend of June 11th as I recall. I had bought 16 euro tickets to Oslo weeks prior, but these tickets would go to waste. Shortly after my huge travel investment to Norway, I was skyping with my dearest father. As we talked about what he had done that day, he mentioned that he was extremely busy planning my sister's graduation party. I told him that I was upset that I missed the actual graduation, and that I wished I could come home and surprise her. He unexpectedly responded, "that would be such a good surprise... and I do love surprises. If you find a cheap flight, book it." Procrastination always tends to take over my life, but not in this case. I immediately began combing the internet for great deals, and found one within a few minutes. The tickets were booked immediately, and the planning began.
I talked to Hannah, my sister, countless times after having bought the tickets, and kept my lips sealed. In the meantime, I contacted her roommate to start scheming. I came up with a brilliant plan. Her roommate's parents own the condo they live in. Her roommate would "receive a call from her parents" saying that "a contractor is coming to appraise the vinyl siding on the house" and I would show up on her front steps. Flawless. Who would ever question that?
Well, the plan worked out pretty well...minus the fact that her doorbell was broken. My dad picked me up from the airport, and we drove on over to her house. I rang the bell... and again... and again... And then I started pounding on the door, screaming to the heavens in a thick, Bostonian accent, "HEYY HELLO? I'M A CONTRACTAH HEYA TO APPRAYZE DA SIYDIN ON YA APPAHTMENT." That didn't work either. Finally, my dad ended up calling her to say that he happened to be in the neighborhood, buying kosher cookies of course, decided to drop by, and was currently on her front porch. She said she'd come right down. I crouched behind my largely built father and hid. We waited for a few seconds, and then heard her schizophrenic dog, Molly, run down the stairs and start barking. Hannah followed suit (minus the barking) and opened the door. At that moment, I popped out from behind my dearest Pops and yelled, "CANDYGRAM!" (it's an old Saturday Night Live reference... Youtube 'LandShark')
Hannah's reaction was worth the many dollars...well... euros... and hours of traveling. Her jaw dropped to the floor like a Looney Toons character. She stood there, staring at me, for a few minutes as she attempted to process what was happening. When she finally realized that I was not a mirage, and was actually standing on her front porch, she started screaming. It wasn't so much screaming but rather a squeal/yelp/shout/cry/laugh. We hugged and hugged and hugged, cried a little, and laughed. It was great.
That night, I organized a bunch of my Boston friends to go out for drinks. We went to one of my favorite places for sangria, the Other Side. My truest and dearest friends from school came (except for Julie, who in all fairness is in South America), and we had ourselves a grand ol' time, as if it hadn't been over a year since we had last seen each other. It was a great night out. Unfortunately, jet lag quickly caught up with me, and the night ended around midnight.
The next day, Hannah and I ran a few errands. I went to my favorite local sneaker store, Bodega. After a nice little visit and a bit of networking, Hannah and I left the Bean and drove back to Providence. That night we had a lovely dinner at my Dad's girlfriend's house. I was pretty delirious by that point, so I don't remember much. The next day we woke up bright and early, got dressed, and went out shopping! I forgot how much cheaper everything is in the States. Highlight of the shopping- Savers. Oh how I miss that store. Don't get me wrong, the thrift shops in Paris have great finds, but even a skirt still costs at least 10 euros! I got a great new blazer for 7 bucks, and a silk scarf for 2. For that night, I had organized a night out with my friends from Providence at a great brewery. I have to say, the turnout wasn't great. Essentially, only my best friends, cousins, and sister came out.
It was a small group of around 8 people. Don't get me wrong, it was amazing to spend time with them! It showed me how much these people really care about me and miss me. What really bummed me out was that over 25 people responded that they would come, and 30 said that they "might" come. For me, the evening was bittersweet. I was surrounded by people that loved me, but I couldn't help but feel hurt that the people that I've missed and have wanted to see for over 10 months couldn't make the effort to see me for just a few hours. As the evening ended, I came to the realization that perhaps my life in Providence is really over. High school ended years ago, and that perhaps all of my wonderful friendships won't last as long as I thought they would. That night was also a turning point for me because I realized that my doubts of staying in France shouldn't even exist. I have been worrying that by staying abroad for another year, I would lose even more friends at home, and that catching up would become more difficult. But, you know what? Why should I go home to rekindle old and dying friendships with people from my hometown when instead I could keep the relationships with my truest friends strong, and then make even more great friends here in France? The decision has been made. I don't want to come home. I'm not going to sacrifice this incredible experience to live in a foreign country because I miss people. The people that I miss don't necessarily miss me. The people that do miss me have already proven it to me in their own ways.. and not necessarily by coming out just that one night. I've been thinking about these things for a while now, but that night out acted as a catalyst for me to admit certain things to myself that I have been avoiding. I don't want to come home and feel lonely when I could stay here (even in a shitty town like Reims) surrounded by people that I already have great friendships with, and people who I have yet to become friends with.
The next day was Sunday- Hannah's graduation party. We woke up early and went to my favorite neighborhood breakfast joint, Ruffuls. It was fantastic! Actually, I lied... that may or may not have been on Saturday morning. I really don't remember. Anyhoo... Hannah's party was so great. I got to see almost all of my family and close family friends. It was difficult answering the question "so how do you like living in France?" I tried my best, but my answers really weren't that great. We all lounged, mingled, and shmoozed for a few wonderful hours. Hannah returned back to Boston after the party, and I hung out with my dad. I ended up passing out on the couch at around 9pm, and that was it for me.
So, all in all, my weekend back home was fantastic. I finally had my first Dunkin Donuts iced coffee of the year, spent quality time with family and friends, and discovered a few things about myself. I'm so glad I was able to surprise Hannah. The look on her face was worth every cent.
More posts to come... I've been super lazy about this. All this traveling is exhausting! I love it :)
It was the weekend of June 11th as I recall. I had bought 16 euro tickets to Oslo weeks prior, but these tickets would go to waste. Shortly after my huge travel investment to Norway, I was skyping with my dearest father. As we talked about what he had done that day, he mentioned that he was extremely busy planning my sister's graduation party. I told him that I was upset that I missed the actual graduation, and that I wished I could come home and surprise her. He unexpectedly responded, "that would be such a good surprise... and I do love surprises. If you find a cheap flight, book it." Procrastination always tends to take over my life, but not in this case. I immediately began combing the internet for great deals, and found one within a few minutes. The tickets were booked immediately, and the planning began.
I talked to Hannah, my sister, countless times after having bought the tickets, and kept my lips sealed. In the meantime, I contacted her roommate to start scheming. I came up with a brilliant plan. Her roommate's parents own the condo they live in. Her roommate would "receive a call from her parents" saying that "a contractor is coming to appraise the vinyl siding on the house" and I would show up on her front steps. Flawless. Who would ever question that?
Well, the plan worked out pretty well...minus the fact that her doorbell was broken. My dad picked me up from the airport, and we drove on over to her house. I rang the bell... and again... and again... And then I started pounding on the door, screaming to the heavens in a thick, Bostonian accent, "HEYY HELLO? I'M A CONTRACTAH HEYA TO APPRAYZE DA SIYDIN ON YA APPAHTMENT." That didn't work either. Finally, my dad ended up calling her to say that he happened to be in the neighborhood, buying kosher cookies of course, decided to drop by, and was currently on her front porch. She said she'd come right down. I crouched behind my largely built father and hid. We waited for a few seconds, and then heard her schizophrenic dog, Molly, run down the stairs and start barking. Hannah followed suit (minus the barking) and opened the door. At that moment, I popped out from behind my dearest Pops and yelled, "CANDYGRAM!" (it's an old Saturday Night Live reference... Youtube 'LandShark')
Hannah's reaction was worth the many dollars...well... euros... and hours of traveling. Her jaw dropped to the floor like a Looney Toons character. She stood there, staring at me, for a few minutes as she attempted to process what was happening. When she finally realized that I was not a mirage, and was actually standing on her front porch, she started screaming. It wasn't so much screaming but rather a squeal/yelp/shout/cry/laugh. We hugged and hugged and hugged, cried a little, and laughed. It was great.
That night, I organized a bunch of my Boston friends to go out for drinks. We went to one of my favorite places for sangria, the Other Side. My truest and dearest friends from school came (except for Julie, who in all fairness is in South America), and we had ourselves a grand ol' time, as if it hadn't been over a year since we had last seen each other. It was a great night out. Unfortunately, jet lag quickly caught up with me, and the night ended around midnight.
The next day, Hannah and I ran a few errands. I went to my favorite local sneaker store, Bodega. After a nice little visit and a bit of networking, Hannah and I left the Bean and drove back to Providence. That night we had a lovely dinner at my Dad's girlfriend's house. I was pretty delirious by that point, so I don't remember much. The next day we woke up bright and early, got dressed, and went out shopping! I forgot how much cheaper everything is in the States. Highlight of the shopping- Savers. Oh how I miss that store. Don't get me wrong, the thrift shops in Paris have great finds, but even a skirt still costs at least 10 euros! I got a great new blazer for 7 bucks, and a silk scarf for 2. For that night, I had organized a night out with my friends from Providence at a great brewery. I have to say, the turnout wasn't great. Essentially, only my best friends, cousins, and sister came out.
It was a small group of around 8 people. Don't get me wrong, it was amazing to spend time with them! It showed me how much these people really care about me and miss me. What really bummed me out was that over 25 people responded that they would come, and 30 said that they "might" come. For me, the evening was bittersweet. I was surrounded by people that loved me, but I couldn't help but feel hurt that the people that I've missed and have wanted to see for over 10 months couldn't make the effort to see me for just a few hours. As the evening ended, I came to the realization that perhaps my life in Providence is really over. High school ended years ago, and that perhaps all of my wonderful friendships won't last as long as I thought they would. That night was also a turning point for me because I realized that my doubts of staying in France shouldn't even exist. I have been worrying that by staying abroad for another year, I would lose even more friends at home, and that catching up would become more difficult. But, you know what? Why should I go home to rekindle old and dying friendships with people from my hometown when instead I could keep the relationships with my truest friends strong, and then make even more great friends here in France? The decision has been made. I don't want to come home. I'm not going to sacrifice this incredible experience to live in a foreign country because I miss people. The people that I miss don't necessarily miss me. The people that do miss me have already proven it to me in their own ways.. and not necessarily by coming out just that one night. I've been thinking about these things for a while now, but that night out acted as a catalyst for me to admit certain things to myself that I have been avoiding. I don't want to come home and feel lonely when I could stay here (even in a shitty town like Reims) surrounded by people that I already have great friendships with, and people who I have yet to become friends with.
The next day was Sunday- Hannah's graduation party. We woke up early and went to my favorite neighborhood breakfast joint, Ruffuls. It was fantastic! Actually, I lied... that may or may not have been on Saturday morning. I really don't remember. Anyhoo... Hannah's party was so great. I got to see almost all of my family and close family friends. It was difficult answering the question "so how do you like living in France?" I tried my best, but my answers really weren't that great. We all lounged, mingled, and shmoozed for a few wonderful hours. Hannah returned back to Boston after the party, and I hung out with my dad. I ended up passing out on the couch at around 9pm, and that was it for me.
So, all in all, my weekend back home was fantastic. I finally had my first Dunkin Donuts iced coffee of the year, spent quality time with family and friends, and discovered a few things about myself. I'm so glad I was able to surprise Hannah. The look on her face was worth every cent.
More posts to come... I've been super lazy about this. All this traveling is exhausting! I love it :)
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