Ireland

Imagine running across a room, jumping into the air and landing on a gigantic, oversized, fluffy bed with tons of pillows. Yeah, that’s me. I’ve repeated this process about 10 times at this point. I love this hotel. I’m now in Cork, Ireland. My parents and I are staying at the Hayfield Manor Hotel. Let me just say that this hotel rocks! If you’re ever in Cork, you must stay here. It’s quite the 5 star experience. It is worth the price and more. My room overlooks a quaint garden which is surrounded by a stone wall. The stone wall is covered in ivy and flowering vines. The aroma is breathtaking. The room has a doorbell! I can control temperature, air flow and other cool stuff with a remote control. The dining room has 1920's style fans and is decorated with orchids – my favorite type of flower. The service is unbelievable. Oh my God, I’m in near heaven.

Our rental car is a powerful little diesel VW Passat. My dad is enjoying himself. Despite his stalling the engine on quite a few round-a-bouts, he has a smile while driving. I think he is starting to feel better.

Getting to Ireland was quite the trip. Aer Lingus only allows one suitcase per person and of course I have two. Plus there is a 40 lb limit on luggage. This spells overage charges for my little yoho self. Great. Let me just say that Aer Lingus made out quite well. I swear there were at least 30 children on the plane. Half of these miniature humans were screaming for the duration of the flight. The immigration guy told me he hated France. Of all the random things to say. I told him to give France some credit – they have a pretty large military and could blow Ireland outta the water. Actually I didn’t say that. But I did say that I enjoyed myself and that I hoped one day he would give it another chance. He gave me permission to stay in Ireland until June 4^th.

While getting directions to the hotel, I talked to a guy from the Czech Republic who just came to Ireland after spending six months in Idaho. He worked at a ski resort. I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone from Idaho let alone anyone who has actually lived there for any amount of time. Constantly amazed at the beauty in the most random occurances.

Bittersweet Concoction

Last night in Paris. I'’m doing a bittersweet concoction of writing and reflecting. Never did get to ride a motorcycle. Next time. Made some good friends though. You know who you are. All the best. Sincerely. Always. Carpe Diem.

I just found out that Charise got the job as an english teaching assistant here. I'’m so happy for her. She made the effort to visit me in Paris. Perhaps I can do the same for her when she's in Avignon.

Marie Antoinette

Marie Antoinette is my new favorite period movie. Like most period movies, it wasn’t historically accurate but hey, it was fun. It has period costumes. It was filmed at Versailles. The score has some rock tunes. It’s a beautiful film. I enjoyed myself. I would go see it if I were you.

On other news, I said goodbye to Latifa today. We sat in a café; eating and drinking and talking and watching people go by. Sigh. It’s official. I’m leaving Paris. I really do not want to leave. This city will be greatly missed. I’ll miss the people even more so. How odd it is to have friends on both sides of the Atlantic. Maybe I should live on a boat in the middle of the ocean, eating cheese cubes while entertaining guests from both continents.

Currently listening to Switchfoot. It’s quite motivating. Perhaps I will take over the world tomorrow.

My Parents in Paris

My parents arrived in France on Sunday afternoon with huge smiles, (thankfully) small suitcases and lots of fatigue. I don't think they truly knew what they were getting themselves into. I somehow forgot that my parents are not city people. I don't know how I overlooked this small detail. France, in addition to this large metropolis called Paris, is proving to be quite the culture shock.

• My dad ordered coffee. I told him it would be small but I don't think he was expecting a tea cup sized portion. I also don't think he was expecting his small cup to taste so strong. My father, the notorious coffee drinker, couldn't finish his coffee. Me, I can't enough of the stuff; I finished his'.
  
• There are two spiral staircases associated with our apartment rental. My parents risk their lives with every accending/decending step.
  
  
• My parents knew about the Lourve before coming to France. But not because they know what the Mona Lisa is or because they read that bloody hyped-up book by that Brown guy. No, they knew about the Lourve because Moab's Stone rests within its halls. Of all the quirky things .... Moab was a king of Israel btw.
  
  
• I took them to a choir concert at Notre Dame. It was one of the most beautiful things I have ever heard. The sound was INCREDIBLE. I sat, awestruck, in the middle of my sleeping parents.
  
• I bet my parents never realized how much they were like my grandparents until now. My grandparents have to eat dinner at 5:00 PM everyday or else the sky might come crashing down from the heavens. Eating late every night (i.e. after 19:00) has been an experience.
  
• We traveled to Versailles. They loved it! Score!
  
  
• Went to my host mother's for dinner the other night. Mom and dad wanted to meet this crazy lady whom I had been living with for the past 5 months. Mom took off her shoes and I thought Madame was going to faint. Actually, I may have laughed if she had fainted. Anyway, Madame rushed us into the living room; from the living room to the dining room; from the dining room to the car; in the car through the streets of Paris. Madame insisted on a tour of Paris at night. Fine. Although, I'm sure my parents could have cared less than to see the Hermes store on faubourg Saint-Honoré.
  

So as it stands at this moment, the parents are having a nice time. Paris may not be their favorite place in the world, but it's an experience and THAT is what matters. It's good to see them.

Conversations with God

So God and I talked. The conversation went something like this:

Me: God!
God: You're too impatient. Just breathe.
Me: But I don't understand anything. I'm stressed. My hands are shaking. My mind is racing. I have no clear direction.... I just want to yell curses from the rooftops of Paris. What is going on?
God: Have you considered getting more sleep?
Me: No. Sleep means dreams.
God: Exactly.

So I'm in a place where almost everything I once took for granted has been stripped away. A few things remain constant but overall, when I go back to the States, it will be like I'm starting a new life. My plans are not definite. I am able to go any direction I choose - this is scary but liberating. My foundation is solid. Now all I have to do is build on my foundation according to my personal dictates. If I can dream it, I can achieve it. May my footsteps be directed.

If you've read this blog from the beginning, you'll remember that on my flight to Europe I was bumped up to first class. I took it as a sign of the beginning of a wonderful adventure. My time here as certainly been an adventure. I've loved it. I've hated it. I've laughed. I've cried. I've experienced some of the hardest and some of the most beautiful times of my life in France. As I get ready to go home, another random wonderful thing happened: I've been bumped up to "first class" again.

I had booked a simple (and cheap) lighthouse in Ireland for me and my parents. A secluded week by the ocean in a rural setting. The historical organization I booked through emailed me the other day with an offer. Apparently a production company wants to film at the lighthouse next week. They will be putting us up at a 5 star ocean resort with all expensives paid and lots of other crazy incentives. I accepted their offer. It seems as though I've come and I'll be going with a bang.

I'm all about the random. I'm all about the spontaneous. I'm all aware that God is both random and spontaneous (in our eyes). I'm all aware of the divine comedy that is life. Carpe Diem you online blog readers who never leave me messages ... I hope you are daily prepared for something new and something radical. Rock on rockers.

Ecclesiastes

Things happen for a reason. I'm convinced of this. Life is a learning experience. I can only hope that I continue to transform with each passing day. I smile to myself. Smiling sweetly. God must have a sense of humor. Rock on.

Can't We All Read Rousseau and Be Happy!

So I got my summer course book list. It just so happens that I'm taking an English course this summer. It's required. I HATED my introduction to English course which was also required. In that class we didn't read any books. I was bored out of my mind. Instead we learned the difference between there, their and they're - I believe that if english is your first language and if you got into a fairly good school, then you should KNOW the difference already.

Anyway, back to the book list; we're not reading classics. Rather, we're reading social commentaries on the American public educational system. Sigh. News headlines transformed into a book ... fun fun. Whatever happened to reading the classics? I am saddened by my lack of classical knowledge. Perhaps the American public educational system would improve if students were given the importunately to expound on classical thought rather than regurgitate recent news headlines while writing whimpy essays on "why smoking is bad for you."

On the topic of essays, since when was it written that you must have 3 supporting statements for a thesis? Exactly, it's not. Granted only having two supporters may seem a little too ill-prepared in some instances but why not shoot for four or five? Yep, that’s what I thought ….

Anyway, so everyone knows the Greeks right? Those lofty mortals who left behind a trail of classical literature? Were they really so original? Why did they have to wear togas?

I laughed at the Jokes.

I didn't plan on going to a romantic comedy by myself. But it happened. I placed myself in the center of the theatre, near a cute couple who didn't immediately scream "make out session" when I looked at them.

It's a slightly different romantic film - Quatre Etoiles. If you want a preview of how I'm going to be at 35, please watch the first 20 minutes of this film. She ends up being a kind of seductress (yeah, definitely not me - not even at 35) but every situation she finds herself in is a mishap (story of my life). But additionally, her character had fun with life. I want to have an enjoyment for living that surpasses age!

Not the best film overall, but fun. I even laughed a lot of the jokes WITH everyone else. This one couple - we'll just call them Xavier and Adèle (my favorite french names ... with Guillaume and Zoé being close seconds) - were practically rolling on the floor with laughter. I'm not sure if they were under any influences or merely having a good time. Either way, I think their laughter spread.

The World’s Problems Solved Through Ice Cream

I’m convinced that all the problems in the world can be solved through ice cream! Ok, maybe not the most informed declaration but case in point: My host mother. I made an offering of ice cream to her last night. She smiled and accepted. We actually had a decent conversation. Granted she may have been nice merely to nab some delicious red berry ice cream, but hey it worked. One could argue that I was rewarding bad behavior with an undeserved treat. My reasoning is that if I can live in peace for the next three days, I will start handing out ice cream around the clock. Another case in point: Today was crap for me. I came home to my little tub of ice cream and all was well. Actually it was either indulge in sweets or start throwing things out of my bedroom window at unluckly pedestrians.

Found someone to help me move out of the apartment! This is one thing I can dance about ... now another 1 000 000 000 things left to do! Between trying to finish my paper, fighting with airlines, travel organization, placing/reading housing ads, job searches, and trying to remember to eat, something actually went right. Thanks so much, I am truly indebted to you.

After reading about the Russian mafia all day AND about how nuclear proliferation is coming to a town near you, I'm going to take a few hours "off" and watch a film. I'm going to take advantage of the fact that I'm in France during Cannes. I'm going to go see a Spanish film with French subtitles. It's not the first time I've done such a thing - it probably won't be my last. I expect the experience to be lovely. Now if only I don't get attacked by Place de Clichy personages - Ah, the north of Paris.

p.s. someone asked me if I was swedish today. Apparently Swedes are the "hot catches" in France now-a-days (some less than reputable IES person told me this). I laughed. I laughed because not only could I understand/answer this French speaking person in the French language but because it was such a random question. Maybe I could start getting away with pretending to be swedish ....

A Black Pearl Day

I love black pearls! I'm definitely a big fan. So timeless. So elegant. The thing is that I never wear them. I bought myself this great black pearl necklace a few years ago, but I rarely put it on. So today, in the spirit of it being Wednesday, I've decided to wear my black pearls. Where am I going you ask? I'm going shopping. haha. I've been fairly tight with funds so far and now it's time to indulge myself. Just thought I'd share. Rock on rockers.

So possible plans for this evening are:
A: go see a play
B: go to the Louvre for the late night exhibits
C: watch a film
D: eat dinner out - probably by myself

Of course, all of the above options are optional. For the D option, as a general rule, I probably would have to bring a book or newspaper to read. It may seem a bit lonely but there's nothing like a good read over dinner. The B option is free. The A and C options are cheap as I have a student card. Choices choices. In any case, I plan to rock the city tonight.

Les Relations Internationales Illicites

Hello to everyone just joining in on the yoho blogging experience! I hope you find the whole thing to be interesting and fun. As a little disclaimer, all opinions expressed herein are definitely my own. I take the credit and/or blame for all of it. I merely write about life as I see it - I tend to be a little biased about somethings, but honestly that's life. We all have different opinions, different upbringings, backgrounds, etc etc. I also tend to be a little wordy. I haven't edited much of my writing. Therefore if you don't understand what I wrote, never fear, because chances are that no one else does either. haha. So welcome to the world of a young American female student in Paris.

In the spirit of being productive, I went to the Sorbonne library at Clignancourt. My big question is: why hadn't I done this before?! There was so much room. There were so many books. There were places to plug in my laptop. I was in nerd heaven! My reason for going was to do research on illicit internationl relations for a paper I'm writing. It's basically on nuclear proliferation, globialization and the economic factors that play into the whole mess. I fear that economics will follow me for the rest of my life ... a history paper involving economics, whoever would have thought of such a thing. I have this friend at home who is an economic king. He rocks it. We took the same econ class during freshman year in college - I didn't do so well while he received an A. Oh, the economic jealously. I actually think it's an important subject and I'm rather intrigued by it. Just don't start breaking out the economic calculus equations because I might have an academic breakdown. I digress.

I really should go food shopping tomorrow. I had yogurt for breakfast and hot chocolate for dinner. Not exactly the best daily diet. I should really purchase meat and hope that Madame doesn't eat it. Speaking of Madame, we're not really on speaking terms. Although I still live with her, there is discontentment in the air. She thinks I broke her internet connection. Plus she lost a set of important keys recently and I have a feeling that might be blamed on me as well. I apparently have also not been very nice to her lately (according to her) because I didn't want to play for a long time with the grandchildren this past weekend. She started calling me stupid again. I merely walk away from her everytime she does it. I think she has a problem. I worry about her. She has been forgetting to feed Cat. She has been losing so many things. She has been drinking a lot - every night when she comes home, before doing anything else, she downs Vodka shots. She's moody. I've decided that maybe we're not so similar.

p.s. On a lighter note, I just saw the girlfriend of this guy I know. Turns out she is the prof from one of my most HATED classes. lol. I'm cracking up!!!

Confessions of a Night Owl

So it's around 3 in the morning. I came home not too long ago. I spent the majority of my day writing and getting caught up on business affairs. I'm still working on finding roommates while looking for places to move into - I figure I need to "cover my butt" in this situation because I cannot afford to find myself without a place to live. I'm also finishing up academic junk. At times academics inspire me while at other times it all seems overrated.

Like on most Mondays, I went to church tonight. It's become a sort of a habit over the past three months - attending religious services on Monday nights. I rather enjoy them. I always find/learn something new. I sit in the back so I can see the words for the worship songs. If I'm standing in the front, I find that it's harder to read the words and to sing along - there's always someone who is taller than I am. Met up with my friend Damien afterward. The poor guy was so tired but still agreed to meet up - God bless him. I admit, I was starving to talk - I've had so many thoughts gallop through my brain these past few days. It was quite refreshing.

I had two blonde moments in a row to finish off the night ... I missed my bus twice. Yesh, and I think I have a brain. Enough said.

And so that brings me to right now. I'm getting ready to sleep. I am smiling. I am content. Good night world. Much love to all. Be blessed. -Sarah

Sundays in Paris

I love Sundays in Paris. Walking down the street this morning, I passed various people carrying flowers who were undoubtedly going to Sunday lunch. Sundays aren't such a big thing in the States. Sure it's a day off, but it's not really a day to get together with family and friends. Maybe that is merely how I view Sundays. Perhaps my point-of-view is skewed. Regardless, I'm going to miss walking down the street on a Sunday morning when all the shops are closed and there is a tranquility in the air. Forgive me if I sound too romantic. Perhaps sometimes I wear rose-colored glasses - don't we all?

Vach'Art - la CowParade à Paris

I had heard that cows had invaded Paris. By cows, I mean fake cows. There are currently over 100 fake cows scattered throughout the city. Why you ask? Because it's art! Well, art and charity because the cows will be sold and the money goes to charity. I needed to get out of the apartment today, so I decided to go cow hunting. I began my quest at the Champs-Elysees. I got side-tracked for an hour because I decided to go to the top of l'Arc de Triomphe. I hadn't been to the top before. So since there was no time like the present, I ventured to the top. I identified Levallois by the Hitachi sign which I nightly see outside my bedroom window - I took a picture of the area. Why not.

When I ventured back down l'Arc, I recommenced my cow quest. It was soon interrupted however, by the telephone calls of my mother and of my friend Latifa - in succession! Thankfully I was not too waylaid by their inquiries. After hanging up, I forced my way through the sea of people on the Champs-Elysees and braved the dangerous crosswalks. My eyes were soon greeted by a herd of fake cows. My spirit was overjoyed! I had finally found some cows. The cows were in an array of colors. Some had photos and adverts on them. Others had figurines mounted on top or were wearing odd headgear. Ah yes, I have traveled half-way around the world to see representations of animals which live in my backyard. I find this humorous.
And why the photo of the fountain? Well, because I thought it beautiful. I like how the wind is blowing the water.

On other news, I had a very odd thing happen to me on the way to a church service this evening. I was sitting in the Metro, waiting for the next train, when all of the sudden my skin turns red and my stomach starts doing loops. Could it be the questionable eggs I've been eating for breakfast?

Early Morning Wanderings

I walked the Seine this morning. The sun appeared as I walked. It was beautiful. I enjoyed myself. I don't know if I'll ever stop wandering - I love to walk and to think and to muse and to talk (usually not to myself). I love to explore. It was a perfect morning. I smile to myself. Sometimes I cannot stop smiling. Most of the time I cannot stop daydreaming.


I should go to bed soon. I haven't slept yet. I have a play to do this afternoon. Nothing grand, just a play.

p.s. I'm reading Baudelaire's Les Fleurs du Mal. I think that if he were alive, we might become friends. I understand him.
... L'homme y passe à travers des forêts de symboles
Qui l'observent avec des regards familiers.

Two Movies and a Blue Eiffel Tower

Finals today. I'm sure I performed well. No worries.

Watched two films. The first, Waiting for Guffman, put me into hysterics! I don't remember the last time I laughed so hard. It's an improv satire. Gotta love films like that. I will definitely have to invest in it when I return home! The second, Les Demoiselles de Rochefort, is a love story by Jacques Demy featuring Catherine Deneuve. The plot is basically a "sometimes-love-is-where-you-least-expect-it" type. My stomach tied itself into a knot. A cute film but not something I was in the mood for (i.e. it's an artsy cuddle film).

The Eiffel Tower was blue tonight!
I called some people to let them know about it. Together, we took in the beauty ... then finished our night by eating crêpes. Of course I had to have bananas and chocolate in mine.

Answers - I Would Like to Have Some

Shadows. All of it is shadows. I grasp at them and find that I have nothing. The shadows move and quake. They mock me. I am so strong until the tears start to flow. Even then I stand as an immovable fortress. All I want is to be held, yet I won't let anyone near me. I shoot with darts of bitterness and reflection. I do not regret my decisions but I regret the childhood I left behind. My stomach churns.

My current roommate in the U.S. (not Mander) decided to sign another lease. Not a problem in itself. The problem is she waited until now to tell me this - when the lease is due as soon as I return to the States. I have been on a hunt for a third roommate during the past month. I've kept my roommate up to date in all details of the search. She hasn't mentioned anything to me until now. Thanks. Rather than explode, my response was cool and tactful. It was either that or go off the handle. I would imagine that the perference of most people would be to have interactions in a calm manner. So now I have an expensive apartment solely under my name. I just need to breathe.

Hammam

Today's a holiday in France. All the more reason to go to a Hammam today. Abigal and I ventured to a well-known Hammam in the north of Paris for an afternoon of self-pampering. It was my first time to ever be at a health center. I had no idea what to expect. From reading online, I did know that most Hammans tend to be single sex and pretty much recquire nudity. Way to fight the American prude stereotype!

The Hammam was 4.5 hours of bliss! We steamed, soaked, scrubed, swam, and massaged our way into making the tired body feel good. It was incredible. I think I'm going to take a nap now. I need to be awake for church tonight.

Indian Food and Catching Sleep

Paris, like most major cities, has great food. Some would even say that one of the greatest things about Paris is the food. Last night my friend Abigal and I went out for Indian food. I LOVE Indian food. My tongue was on fire the whole night!

So just a picture of us after a fabulous meal!

Yummy France Food List:

• Crêpes - Banana and Chocolat is my favorite
  
• Nutella
• Baguettes
• Cheese - particularly hard Cow's Cheese with Cherries
• Red Meats - definitely a fan
• Nectar of all kinds
  
• Yogurt sans sucre, add Jam
• Hot Milk with Vanilla
• Food without conservatives
• Red Wine
• Fish Soup

Went dancing after dinner. We ended up paying cover for a club and decided to make a night out of it (i.e. catch the first metro home). For reasons that I don't have time to go into, I wish we would have left the club. Somehow there was a fight on the account of me. I'm bewildered because such things never happen to me. I merely told this one short guy to get lost. He refused. We got into an argument because I refused to be passive about his refusal. Other people step in. I step away. A fight ensues. Voila. Did I mention that we were the youngest people in the club?! The common denominator must have been 38. I will know next time, if there ever is a next, to leave an establishment which caters to those with children. Sleep becomes me.

L'hyperpuissance Americaine

The title was actually the subject of the lecture today in my class at the Sorbonne. I listened to two hours of anit-Americanism (it was an oral expose today).


Anyway, went to an end of the semester party tonight. It was fun. I took a lot of pictures. I left around 12. Good times had by all. I actually only knew about half of the people there. It was good to see those that I did know though, as it may be the last time i'll see them. Hard to believe that the program is almost over. I really do not want to leave France.

Watched "Remains of the Day" after coming home tonight. Damien gave/lent it to me. Said he was going to get rid of it anyway, so why not give it to me. Ok, sure. It's appreciated. I enjoyed the movie. I hadn't heard of it before recently. It's about a love that is never realized. I wanted to cry or at least throw a book by the end of it (neither of which I did). Maybe it was the time of day/night or maybe I actually moved by the story. I really cannot tell. The main character's name is Sarah. God must laugh at us ....

My French Slips

Last night, I was reading the thoughts of an American writer in Paris. She is married to a French citizen and has two children living in (and trying to find work in) Paris. Her experiences made me laugh. We have both often messed up on the little things.

She wrote about how Americans are generally nice to people they do not know whereas the French (particularly Parisians) are generally only nice to people they know. Of course I'm generalizing, but it's true in a sense - particularly with the older generations. Being too friendly is often seen as being false or a push-over. I tend to agree with this.

On table manners and being a guest, I don't know how many times I put bread on my plate rather than on the table. I once showed up an hour early for Sunday lunch at someone's house - a big no-no in a country where you're usually expected 15 minutes AFTER the designated time. On a side note: I barely knew these people - I think they invited me because Madame was going to be away for two weeks. They lived in a house in Levallois (which the husband designed himself) and had three kids around my age. I brought them flowers, so at least I had that going in my favor. But the conversation was awkward as I tend to be shy and my French has more to be desired. I digress. I try really hard to eat with the fork in my left hand but sometimes it has aided in the food finding itself on my lap. Going back to the Sunday lunch episode, I once tried to cut a hard cheese near the end of the dinner and it flew across the table. I timidly smiled while the son handed back my piece of cheese. Weekend dinners, particularly on Sundays, are such big events in France. During meals, you're not really supposed to compliment the food because there are other things to talk about. Conversations change rapidly and often have no connection with the previous topic(s). Keeping the hands on the table is another big thing. I tend to start playing with the glass as I never really know what to do with my hands.

I mess up compliments all the time. Another generalization is that the French downplay a lot things. When someone gives you a compliment on something, it's considered haughty to say "thank you" and elaborate on the subject. Instead you're supposed to say something like "oh, that was nothing" and continue onto something else. With compliments, I usually just say "oui" or smile - it's the most natural thing for me to do. I can only be myself.

With compliments there are criticisms, which are often sarcastic. For example, if you get a 19.5 out of 20 on a paper, the prof will probably write something like "pas mal" (not bad). Way to hurt the American ego! I think Americans tend to be overly "seeker sensitive." We want to please and be pleased in everything - I know I'm guilty of this. Instead of merely offering an apology, we want to offer additional explanations, cover all bases, and make sure that the other party involved continues to be all right. France is a little more insensitive.

I often get the whole respect thing wrong as well, particularly when I start to talk too fast with my host mother. Suddenly the "tu" falls out and she gives me a horrified look. Of course, I apologize and go on. tutoyer vs. vouvoyer. As a general rule, I only start with "tu" if the person is close to my age. Otherwise, it's "vous." But the difficulty comes in when a person tells me I can use "tu" with them rather than "vous." I find it hard to remember who has given me this permission. And then the person, whoever it is, wonders why I'm being so formal with them after they've given me permission to be informal. Argh! Plus in stores and other public places (and in my home stay), it's better to say "bonjour/bonsoir Mme/M" rather than a plain old "bonjour/bonsoir." It's more respectful ... it's amazing the difference in reception between the two!

My final HUGE fault is "les bises." It's the exchange of kisses upon greeting and departing. I love this part of French culture, it rocks. I almost have the greeting thing down, but I often forget the departing part. Therein lies the problem. It's not that I don't want to say goodbye, it's just that it slips my mind. As a general rule, I start left to right. But of course there are bound to be mishaps. Case in point: last weekend I was saying goodbye to some people. This guy whom I was not particularly fond of got up close to do les bises. Fine. The problem was that he went to the left at the same time that I went to the left. We met in the middle. I really did not want to touch lips with this person. I'm shuttering just thinking about it.

Surrealisme

So as I procrastinate 12 hours before my paper is due, I realized something about myself: I’m one lucky girl. I know people back home who have babies or who are worried about how they are going to pay their bills. Meanwhile I’m sitting at my desk half way across the world writing about surrealism. Who has the easier life? I need to "suck it up" and get to work.

I realized something else: I have become a "city-slicker." Let me explain: according to the world I grew up in, I've become that person who couldn’t tell the difference between a bull and a cow with horns. Not know what I’m talking about? Well, that might indicate that you and I probably have the same higher educational background. It might also indicate that you probably do not perform manual labor nor have you ever been to a late model race. Well, if anyone would be interested in seeing a late model race, I’d be more than happy to take you – just don’t wear nice clothes.

I rushed home after prayer tonight in order to finish my paper. I didn't stay after and talk. I did go a little early though to sit through the rosary. I had never been to the rosary before(I don't know the official name for it). It was like a chant - the same line repeated over and over again.

But now it's time to finish my discussion on chez Apollinaire vs. chez Breton. It promises to be 10 pages of brilliant thought but the worst french grammar you've ever seen!