Saturday, November 17, 2012

I'm still here!


Hello, friends. To the four of you who follow this thing, I apologize for my long absence. I was traveling during the Toussaint holidays, and spent the last week in a mood that can be best described as stormy. It turns out that one of the many characteristics I share with small children is difficulty with transitions, and not only has the transition to living in France been hitting me hard this week, but also the basic transition of going back to school after a break, something I always struggle with. I’m fairly certain that most of you would rather not listen to a pouty person, because if you did, you would just read Oprah’s blog (if she partakes in such commoner activities), or offer candy to your children and then decide “never mind”. I apologize if you are a fan of Oprah, I know she has done wonderful things, but I can’t fight the urge to make fun of her. I just don’t think anyone should cry in public that much. 

I feel much better now, and back in the swing of things, though I will say that if you ever find yourself feeling bored, so bored that you find yourself watching one of the 12 Kardashian shows that sadly exist or cable news (shudder), you should email me and tell me about your life. I would love to hear about it. Now that the election is over, not only am I not pressing “refresh” on the 538 blog obsessively anymore, but somebody has to pick up the slack now that the Obamas and Joe Biden no longer email me everyday.  Just please don’t ask me for $5 or send me pictures of you in animal print leotards like Joe Biden did. Say what you will about that, it was at least not embarrassing as those pictures of Paul Ryan lifting weights. I mean, he released those to the entire public. Joe’s were at least a private gift for me. And he didn’t sport a backwards hat like he was auditioning to be part of a Kris Kross tribute band.

Anyway, I did have a great time traveling over break. Megan and I went to Prague and Vienna for the first week. Prague was amazing; we ate and drank very well. And cheaply. I couldn’t help thinking of my buddy Rachel Gage while I was there (shout out to Baby Rach!), because the majority of the diet seems to revolve around meat and potatoes and beer, which I think comprises her dream meal. The architecture in Prague is all very beautiful and unique. We took a free three-hour walking tour all over the city, which was great. Their history is fascinating; being a country that didn’t gain their freedom till about the time I was discovering the Boxcar Children, and it was interesting to hear stories of a place that has been occupied by both Nazi’s and Communists in recent years. There is also a huge and very interesting Jewish Quarter, filled with beautiful synagogues and museums. During WW2, Hitler had decided that when his work was done, he would build a museum to remember the exterminated race in Prague, and had many of the Jewish artifacts and possessions the Nazis confiscated from homes and synagogues around Europe during the war sent to Prague. There was a large collection of drawings done by children who were taken from their families to live in the ghettos and wait for the concentration camp outside Prague to be completed. When it was, they were shipped out and hardly any survived. Those were particularly heartbreaking. Here are some pictures of the city: 



Vienna was also beautiful. All the buildings were elegant and white, and they were setting up for the Christmas Market that is starting this weekend. It is apparently one of the biggest Christmas Markets in Europe, which would have been cool see. I wasn’t sure what to expect of Vienna, I’d heard mixed things, but I was pleasantly surprised. Lots of good food, interesting history, and lavish palaces filled with stories of inbred crazy people. You know, standard fare. Here is a picture of me in front of the Hapsburg palace summer home just outside the city. We also visited their main palace, both were huge. 



And here is a random Vienna street/typical architecture:




We flew back to Paris from Vienna, and then a few days later I flew to Geneva to spend a few days with Kristin at her boarding school in the tiny mountain town of Leysin, and hour and a half outside of Genva. The campus was beautiful, it had a great view of the mountains. I arrived at midnight and thus had no idea where I was. When I woke up the next morning and looked out the window, and saw this: 


it was quite surprising. While I was there, I got to indulge in some of my favorite past times; like working out (there was a gym!), thai food, actual wi-fi, and using a clothes dryer. I was so excited about the dryer that I even brought my sheets. Air drying sheets just isn’t the same. We went to Lousanne, the home of the official Olympic museum, but unfortunately it was closed for renovations. Too bad, because I would have loved to pay homage to my fish’s namesake, Kristi Yamaguchi. It was a nice weekend, and thanks to the availability of European  budget airlines, not too expensive. I did visit the olympic flame, however, something I imagine I'll have a much closer view of when I finally make the olympic team: 



In other exciting news, there are five weeks of school between me and a trip home for winter break. I’m looking forward to seeing people and using the dryer. In that order. I’ll probably stare at it in wonder and amazement in my free time. What a marvelous appliance. Maybe I’ll stare at you, too. If you’re lucky.


I can’t really top the image from that last sentence, so I’m going to stop there. Have a great week and a happy Thanksgiving. I will be going back to Sarlat to reunite with the Dordonge elementary teachers for a grand ol’ American feast. I’m excited. And, I think I’ll be able to wake up at a reasonable time and get some great 4am CST Black Friday deals. Maybe I’ll buy a dryer….. 

Monday, October 29, 2012

Halloween and Stuff

Hello, friends and happy almost Halloween! The weather turned from 70s to 40s/50s this weekend and it officially feels like Fall, which made the cravings for things like candy corn, Oktoberfest beer and tailgating pretty serious. Looking at badger tailgate pictures on facebook makes me miss all that, so please guys, cut that crap out. Just kidding..carry on. I just think about the tailgate I went to last year when the only option to use the bathroom was a 45 minute line for an overflowing porta potty and it soothes my mind for a bit.

I brought the magic of Halloween to 400 or so rural french kids, and I think the main point they took away from it was that Halloween involves M & Ms and you have to say "trick or treat", but what does that mean anyway? Give me the candy. So I think I did my job there. The school part is going well, the kids are all adorable and eager to participate and please. I did inadvertently cause a child to cry last week when I corrected his pronunciation on a word, and I tried to explain to him in french that I make 4398340598 mistakes a day speaking french, and that I understand where he's coming from here. I think it was lost in translation. Maybe he needs to do what I do, and reward himself by downloading episodes of Arrested Development when he makes it through a day with only a modest amount of mistakes and embarrassing moments. Hmm...

Last weekend a few assistants and I went to visit some other assistants who are placed in Sarlat, a tiny town an hour and a half away from Perigueux. Sarlat is very pretty, and definitely has that old time European cobblestone street feel. It's pretty popular with tourists in the summer. I think Rick Steves has discussed it as well, which gives it some serious street cred. Rick and I got pretty close this summer, so his street cred it pretty legit. Not on par with, say, Jay-Z, due to the fact that I listened to his pod cast and he sounds like he is from Fargo and said "okey dokey" more times than should be permitted in 45 minutes. Which is to say, he said it once. Not that there's anything really wrong with that, but if he told me to brush my shoulders off I'd probably laugh at him. In case you're wondering, that is my only qualifier for having street cred. You should probably practice that line in the mirror if you want to impress me.

But I digress. We went to the market and got some huge mushrooms to make for dinner. The wonderful Sarlat assistants prepared a great dinner of mushroom gratin and it was delicious. Here are some pictures.


We bought the shrooms from this place. If you find a guy in a red beret selling local mushrooms the size of your head, you should buy them.

Eating the delicious mushrooms. Note my special outfit, I got dressed up for the occasion. Whatever, it was like 8pm. Way past PJ time. Just ask any 5 year old. I know a lot of them, and trust me, it's true.

I would also like to inform you all that due to my apartment's lack of a microwave, I have been cooking a lot more. I made ratatouille this weekend and it was... not disgusting. I include this point because I know a lot of you have been waiting for me to reach this point of maturity, and I will remind you that Rome wasn't built in a day, but hey, it's progress. 28.5 years old is probably an advanced age for such a transition but I am fairly confident that if I had to pick one literary character that most mirrors my own personality, I would have to pick this guy:



Don't worry guys, Leo turns out just fine. Just in his own time.


We are now officially on break for two weeks, and thank god, because i just worked four weeks in a row. That part of french life I am adjusting to very well. Tomorrow my friend Megan and I are heading to Prague and Vienna for a week. I am quite excited to be heading to beer country for awhile. Wine is my first love as far as beverages go, but I have been missing some good beer. Next weekend I'll be visiting my long lost friend Kristin in Switzerland for a few days, and experiencing what I assume is the badass life of a Swiss boarding school. Swizz boarding school, I'll call it.

Enjoy your week, friends, and Happy Halloween! Eat some candy corn for me and say a silent prayer that it soon gains worldwide appeal.

Thursday, October 18, 2012

One Month Down...

Hello friends, I hope this Thursday finds you well. You're probably sleeping, which makes me jealous because this new work routine involving being coherent by 8:30 am has been possibly one of the rougher adjustments I've faced. The past three years at preschool didn't require me to be coherent until the much more civil hour of 10:45. The exhaustion is also directly related to the difficult transition to life without a box fan. As many of you know, my love of a good box fan runs deep, bordering on addiction. I've finally mastered the falling asleep part, but get woken up by traffic and people early in the morning. As a result, I've developed a deep hatred for motorcycles. There's no reason to own something that loud unless you are involved in some type of parade. And handing out candy.

Tomorrow marks one month of being in France, and I'm pleased to report that I think I'm finally getting a minor grasp of things. It's sort of been a one step forward two steps back kind of thing. I feel like I'm understanding things or have a good interaction with a French person, and then five minutes later I have no idea what's going on again. For example, this Monday I was feeling pleased at how smoothly things had gone, and then the two hour lunch rolled around. I have been eating in the teachers lounge, which has been quite a challenge because everyone talks fast and uses slang I am not familiar with, and there are usually 5 conversations going on at once. At the end of the two hour lunch, I feel pretty exhausted. One of the teachers wanted to discuss the differences between the French and American political system and had lots of questions about how candidates are chosen in America. I consider myself a politically aware and interested person, but came across more like Kim Kardashian, who we all know has not quite mastered the art of reading. With practice, hopefully that improves and I won't appear quite so cognitively disabled. I have been trying to talk to kids at recess because it's much less degrading and intimidating to practice with them, and when they correct me I know they're doing so without judgement. Embarrassing myself in front of kids is something I'm quite used to. After all, I taught kids the canopener this summer, demonstration included. Not everyone gets to see that kind of class. You're welcome, kids. Today I have not embarrassed myself at all (so far. It is only 1:15), and rewarded myself by downloading one episode of Arrested Development. Tonight is going to be real exciting.


Last weekend, another assistant and I went to Bordeaux to visit the sand dunes on the Atlantic coast. It was one of the most beautiful things I've ever seen. On the other side of the dunes was a beautiful view of miles of dense forest. I instagramed the crap out of it. Example: 


We took the train back to Bordeaux and spent the evening walking around and eating, two of my favorite activities. Bordeaux is a beautiful and appropriately sized city. It's a college town of about 200,00, and has a very young and international feel. I was wishing I lived there, but returning to Perigueux the next day felt good, deserted though it may be on a Sunday. What it lacks in size, however, it makes up for in beauty. Yesterday I went for a long walk down the river and was amazed at how beautiful it was. I had never walked much past the city limits, and the views I found a couple of miles down the river were quite impressive. Example: 






And I have about 20 more where those come from. Picking between them was harder than when I'm asked red or white wine. Wine is like children, they all deserve love. How can you pick? Regardless, if you come visit me, we can take a romantic stroll down there. You know you want to. 

Time to head to the store now,  I have the afternoon off and 14 classes of children are expecting Halloween parties next week. They seem to know what Halloween is, but don't really celebrate. They are most excited about the prospect of candy, but 14 classes x 25 kids = no. After Halloween bonanza, however, it's two weeks of vacation, and Prague, Vienna and Switzerland time! To all my binders full of women, I hope you have a tremendous weekend. To all my trapper keepers full of men, do the same. 


Wednesday, October 10, 2012

No Carb Left Behind

Hello friends and family near and far. Happy Wednesday. I realized today that I have been here exactly three weeks. Yesterday, one of the teachers at my school asked me what I miss most about the US. First and foremost, it's definitely you. Even the person in Chile who apparently reads this, I miss you. And can I visit? I miss yoga and my bike, though hopefully I am buying a bike tomorrow. Muscle atrophy is a thing, it's true. I also really miss Kashi Go Lean cereal. I know it's weird to be in France and miss something that's apparently best described as fiber twigs (really, marketing team? That's the best you could do?)), but I do miss it. But whatever, you had me at fiber, Kashi. I've been forced to make a "no nutella in the house" rule, which I expect to last into the weekend. That's probably overestimating my self control a bit. I have heard several stories of Americans who lost weight when they came to France, and I want to know what kind of town these people lived in. Is it void of a boulangerie? I think that's illegal.

Yesterday was my first day with kids. The school director picked me up, which was quite nice considering I'm pretty sure he went way out of his way to do so. There is a 100% chance I would have gotten lost, due to the fact that it would have required me to take the bus for the first time. When we got there, he gave me a list of 8 classes from kindergarten - fifth grade in and said "have fun"! I was told at training last week that we wouldn't be expected to do any teaching the first two weeks, that we would just be observing, since none of us has any idea how a french classroom is run. Every single class I went to the teacher said "vas-y!" which means "go on!" and sat in the back to watch. I tried to explain that I had not prepared anything, I'm supposed to observe today. They all looked at me, surprised, and said "I'm supposed to teach english? I don't know any english".  So we muddled through, somehow. I have two kindergarten classes, they are very sweet and adorable, but don't speak a word of english. I think my french will improve a lot (hopefully), since these kids/most of the teachers speak only french. The kids think I'm a rockstar, however, being foreign/American, so at least I have that going for me. That is why I love kids, they are the only population who admires someone who spills food on their shirt and runs into bookshelves and other inanimate objects on a fairly regular basis. When I walked through the lunch room they gave me a standing ovation and yelled "hello!! CHICAGO!" (I told them I was from a town near Chicago, I worry they think that is my name). I felt like an appropriately dressed Miley Cyrus. One kindergartener came up to me at the end of my class and stood in front of me smiling, until the teacher told me she is waiting for "la bise", or her kiss on the cheek. Quite different from school culture in America, which can be best compared to Arrested Development's "NO TOUCHING!" moment. My favorite conversation went as follows: 

child: *sigh... * I love the United States.
me: Really? Have you been there?
child: no, but I've been to Euro Disney. That's the same, right?
me: pretty much

I will be at this school only on Tuesdays, and have 200 foreign names to learn just from this school, which might be tricky, but I shall survive. Because I said so. Hmm. I should teach them that phrase in french, it's very useful. 

Perigueux has so far proved to be an okay town. It's pretty small, but still has a one to one cafe to person ratio, which is important. When I got to the cafe/restaurant where I pawn internet today, the bartender immediately brought me a glass of red wine. I think I'm officially a regular, which I probably makes me a big deal. Maybe soon my apartment will smell of rich mahogany instead of old coffee. The city itself is very beautiful, and very green due to the almost daily rain, and I hope to explore the great hiking, kayaking, and biking opportunities that apparently lie outside the city. Most everyone I have met is nice and welcoming. This weekend I'm planning on heading to Bordeaux to check out the sand dunes on the coast of the Bay of Biscay. Bay of Biscay is a fun thing to say. Say that five times fast. 

On an unrelated note, it is slightly killing me to be away from the US during election season. I don't miss the constant political tv/radio ads, but I miss my main men Stewart/Colbert with a fire that burns my heart every day. Especially now since it appears Mitt Romney may have tried caffeine for the first time.  I don't have internet at home yet since I am still without a french bank card, and the cafe I go to blocks youtube (?!?!), hulu and netflix don't work over here, so I have succumbed to buying episodes of itunes. It's a dangerous habit, and pretty soon I'm going to have to pick between my coffee habit and my Stewart habit (wine habit is protected by amnesty international). My blood pressure spikes 345098345 points just thinking about that choice. That's for future Katie to worry about. Future Katie always has a lot to worry about. And Future Katie hates Past Katie. In other news, you'll be glad to know that my schizophrenia tests came back negative. 

Hope you all have a marvelous rest of your week, and enjoy watching The Daily Show for free. It's not something to take for granted. Neither is doing any sort of errand between the hours of 12-2 and using a clothes dryer. You should probably enjoy Sesame Street while you still can, too. I've always thought Big Bird was a bit of a free loader. 

Tuesday, October 2, 2012

My name is Katie and I'm addicted to the internet (Hi, Katie)

Bonjour mes amis! I meant to write in this thing earlier, but I have been in that dark scary unknown of the wi fi free apartment. It's a sad, scary place. Whenever I go multiple days without a home Internet connection, I'm alarmed by the desperation that consumes my life. I go to bed at night wondering, what did Barack Obama email me about today? Did Michelle email me, too? What about Joe? I haven't heard from him in awhile, is he mad at me because I made fun of his verbal diarrhea again? I'm sorry Joe, I have that problem, too. I'll stop judging you. Actually I won't. Because a world where I can't mock people regardless of my own abilities/personality is a world I have no interest in. It's okay, though, because I accept mockery in return. Belittling is a two way street, it's only fair. And anyway, it builds character. So suck it up, Joe, don't be such a Jerry.

That being said, I'm still without Internet. Fortunately I found a bar/restaurant with free wifi. And since it's 5:30, it's moved from coffee to wine time (that happens at 3pm, for future reference), so that's the activity of the evening. I have decided that tomorrow is the day I investigate internet. My faith in my language abilities has rendered me nervous to try. However, last night I found myself saying at 11pm, "ok, I'm going to put on some pants and walk to that corner where I know there's an unlocked wireless network I can access until I feel creepy/unsafe". Self check 101: if you find yourself engaging in this kind of self-talk, it's time to change something. Going to a corner at 11pm to get a fix of something makes me feel I have too much in common with a hooker, something I'm just not comfortable with at my age. I gave myself a pep talk last night, though, I told myself I'm a grown ass woman, I don't need to be afraid of the cell phone store. Kind of like how Kevin McCallister talked himself down from his fear of his basement/furnace. I'm imagining the cell phone store as a talking furnace and I'm going to go all Kevin Mccallister on it, if you know what I mean. If you have to ask me who Kevin McCallister is, I don't think we should be friends. At least do some googling so you don't embarrass yourself.

I thought my french was decent, but I realized that the topics about which I am most able to converse are not conducive to completing adult tasks, such as finding apartments, setting up bank accounts, making friends, etc. Mostly any topic not having to do with what color house one lives in, if they enjoy riding bikes on Sunday afternoons, or if they feel strongly one way or another about ice cream is pretty much off the table. I do believe you can tell everything you need to know about someones character based on their feelings toward ice cream, but that doesn't change the fact that it won't help me procure an internet connection. There were situations where I would order food, but then the waiters would ask me something I wasn't expecting and I'd be think, "Nooooo! You're deviating from the script!!!!"

The only reason I have abandoned my drifter lifestyle is that I have a guardian angel, and his name is Jean-Pierre. I showed up to his office last week, a half hour late due to my inability to properly locate anything (my lost wandering technique has it faults, this I am finally willing to admit), he gave me the keys to the apartment of his friend, who is on sabbatical this year, then took me to the bank and cosigned on an account with me, since I was otherwise unable to open one without an official address. He had known me for 45 minutes when he volunteered to be financially responsible for me. As we were leaving, he invited me over for a big french dinner. When I lose faith in humanity from here on out, I will think of Jean-Pierre and that will get me through anything Kim Kardiashian or Guiliana Ranic does. Guiliana is shoving "exclusive" pictures of her "miracle baby" in my face again? Whatever, Jean-Pierre's probably helping some lost American find an apartment right now. Take that, Guiliana. Speaking of Guiliana, because I just can't help it, she needs to stop calling her baby "the miracle the world's been waiting for the last six years". For a miracle baby, he's pretty boring.

In other news, I have been in my apartment for a week and have already consumed two huge loaves of bread, two wheels of brie cheese, and half a container of nutella. I started to worry I was going to show symptoms of malnourishment/vitamin deficiency, so I ate 5 bananas this afternoon. I coated 3 of them with nutella, but that is neither here nor there. The vitamins are at work.

 I have to go now, because I have some googling to do before I leave this heaven of Internet access. Suri's Burn Book is not going to read itself. I'm starting to do this work thing now, so I'll report on more than my eating habits next time. I did get my schedule, however, and I only work Mondays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays. COME VISIT ME. The end.

P.S. The restaurant I'm at is showing Animal Planet on 5 big screen TVs. I just saw a bunch of antelope get theirs at the hands of some bad ass lions. This is an interesting choice for dinner time background TV. But I guess we should all be aware of the circle of life before participating in it.


Monday, September 24, 2012

Perigueux


Last night, I took the train from Paris south to Perigueux, the city I am placed in this year. 


The train ride through the French countryside was beautiful, and also smelly. I hate to confirm the stereotype that there is always a lingering smell of body odor in most enclosed spaces in France, but so far it has proved to be at least 60% true. I don't really mind, I hate showering as much as the next person, but I think we all know what happened to Jerry Seinfeld when he borrowed that B.O filled car. That smell will follow you around for DAYS. Luckily I don't have any street cred to worry about here. Yet. 

I was also (again) preoccupied with murderous thoughts toward my damn suitcase whilst on the metro to get to the train station. It continues to be a thorn in my side, and is really interfering with my ability to keep it real in my current nomadic situation. There was a reason nomads didn't carry 45 pound blaze orange duffel bags on wheels and I just learned it the hard way. The rolling suitcase I have is fine. But everybody, for the love of jebus please promise me you will never purchase a duffel bag on wheels. I got to Perigueux, checked into my hotel, and wandered the city that will be my home for the next few months. Being a fairly small town (30,000), it was pretty much a ghost town on a Sunday night. It's pretty adorable, though, with lots of cobblestone town squares, shops, cafes, and restaurants. I also found this place, of which I expect to be a frequent costumer:
Today I decided to switch hotels because I found one that was $20 cheaper per night, although unfortunately also in an apparently secret location across town (why I will spend $10 on a mojito the size of a juice glass but not $20 to preserve my sanity remains a mystery). I looked for that place for 2 hours, enlisting the help of multiple passerby who had never heard of it. I walked through the rain with my goddamn 80 pounds of luggage, and even accidentally rolled my large-and-in-charge suitcase through a pile of dog poop (it's everywhere). At first I was disgusted and annoyed, but then I looked down at the suitcase I hate so much, and gave it a look that said "that's what you get for being so annoying" and decided that karma was definitely at work here. Fortunately, due to the sudden rainstorm I rolled through enough puddles to allow me to convince myself that the dog poop is no longer present. Regardless, I won't be eating off the floor for awhile. We all have to make sacrifices sometimes. 

I asked again for directions, which this time led me about a mile down a different road and finally, up the steepest hill I've ever seen. I was starting to wonder why there were "private property" signs everywhere when an elderly lady and her dog emerged from her house and yelled at me to go away. I tried to ask where the hotel was and explained that I was simply lost, but then she started waving her cane at me and I didn't really want to find out how fierce that dog was. It probably weighed as much as Kate Middleton, so I know I could definitely kill it by sitting on it, but I didn't feel that being forced to kill a dog was the best way to start a the year in a new city. After two hours with all my luggage, up and down hills, through the rain and dog feces, I admitted defeat. On the way back, a man saw me struggling with the f-ing suitcase and offered me a ride to wherever I was going, but I declined on the off chance he turned out to be creepy. I really don't have the language skills to negotiate myself out of an abduction right now. A few months down the road, we'll see. 

After re-checking into my hotel, which was very confusing for the lady with whom I'd just checked out with two hours earlier, I went explore the Dorogne Riverwalk. It's very beautiful, full of old people out for walks together. I decided that if I want a chance at eating a home cooked french meal, I'll probably have to network around there. There's nothing wrong with cruising for elderly friends by the river, right? There's worse people you can pick up on the streets. Trust me (just kidding, mom). After school hours, the river path was filled up with groups high schoolers huddled together smoking cigarettes. I think this area might be the American small town social scene equivalent of a Wal Mart, only I didn't see anyone trying to pass off a mesh bag as a dress and everyone I saw was still in possession of all their teeth. The French always do everything just a LITTLE bit classier than we do. 

I am going to leave you with a picture of the bane of my existence and then I will promise not to discuss it anymore. Know that it's worse than it looks, and that as far as enemies go, I do realize I'm pretty lucky that mine does not have the ability to talk or move. Goodnight peeps.


Don't pretend you aren't jealous of that carpeting. 

Friday, September 21, 2012

J'arrive!

This has been a big year for me. I did three things from my list of Thing's I'd Never Do, which were a) to get twitter b) get involved with The Hunger Games, and c) have a blog. Also on the list: plan my life more than two days out, develop an interest in learning table manners and organizational habits, and stop making fun of Rachael Ray. I can't help it. Why is she always smiling? Didn't she become famous because of her connection to Oprah? If that's the case, she should really be crying in public more. And if she does,  I want to be the first to know. 

But I digress. I always thought that people who blog were trying to do one of two things: prove to everyone that their life is more exciting than yours, or try to launch some kind of writing career. I think of them as the type of people who sing in karaoke bars hoping it will lead to becoming the next Mariah Carey. But have you seen Mariah Carey lately? She's still trying to pretend she can dress like it's 1992 and is married to someone who can't be bothered to tie his shoes in public. If we all had that lifestyle, think of the world we'd live in. But anyway, here I am. Blogging. I should know better than to ever think I'm too cool for something. My life is not together enough to allow me the ability to be judgemental. So here I am. I also want you to know that the title of my blog is an outright lie. I just wanted to bring an element of Jay-Z to this thing, maybe make it more exciting, but I am fairly certain that La France will present more than its fair share of problems for me in the near future. Don't think that I think I have it all figured out, because Kim Kardashian will probably learn to read before I figure out France. Just saying. 

I got to France yesterday, hauled all 80+ pounds of luggage on 3 separate trains up and down LOTS of stairs with no familiarity of how Paris metro, on 2 hours of sleep in 50 some hours. I still can't look at my luggage without having murderous thoughts and fantasies involving my luggage and cliffs and fires. I dropped my stuff off at the hotel and wandered around Paris for a few hours. Paris is wonderful. I have never seen such a beautiful city, every building looks like it hasn't been modified in years, and there is what I would guess to be a one-to-one cafe to resident ratio. It's amazing. I met some girls from my program who are also in Paris for dinner. They were great and it was nice to hang out with other people. Then I went home and slept for 15 hours. 15 hours! I can't get over it. That's a personal record, I've been thinking about it all 8 hours I've been awake today. 

This afternoon, at the bright hour of 3pm, I finally left the hotel and walked around. I was supposed to meet the girls from my program again at 5:30 for happy hour/ dinner, but unfortunately due to my inability to read an email completely, I went to the wrong place. I was a little late, too, so assumed maybe they had left for the restaurant area we went to last night in St Germain des Pres, and wandered for a few hours hoping to see them. I was also preoccupied with how great a beer would taste right about then, and maybe a conversation with a live person, but I'm not the type of girl to go to a bar alone. I don't really excel at small talk/meeting people and I REALLY don't excel at French, but found a nice looking bar advertising my two favorite words in the english dictionary : Happy Hour. I remembered what Rick Steves told me during our nights together this summer; he said if you are shy and not wanting to meet people while vacationing alone you will likely not have fun. He told me to get out of that comfort zone and talk to people you don't know, because that's the point of traveling, right? So I said "ok Rick, I'll do this for you". 

I walked past the bar about 5-7 times trying to work up the courage to sit down and order a drink, surely making the people sitting outside think I'm crazy. But it's all part of a strategy. When meeting new people, I like to force my future acquaintances to at least toss around the question of the likelihood me having special needs. That way, when they meet me, I have nowhere to go but up in terms of their perception of me. They'll realize my disability is not cognitive so much as it is extreme awkwardness. So, I went in and had a beer at the bar and talked to an English couple. I complained about the rain we had all day today and they told me to hush and try living in England. And then we talked about Harry Potter, always a default subject for me. It was glorious. If you're reading this and have never read Harry Potter, you really should get on that just in case you someday meet someone like me. Do it as a favor to me. Then I gave up on my friend finding mission and said to myself, "screw this, I'm going to buy a bottle of wine and start my blog". It was 8pm on a Friday night. I saw several small children whooping it up on my way home. They are cooler than me. I also hope that your Friday night, which starts soon, ends in a similarly exciting fashion. 

I would also like to give a shout out to my ipod, without whom I would surely be curled up on a french street with all my luggage crying like a small child. I downloaded apps for french maps and the metro, and it has saved me multiple times. You are probably thinking, maps are not new things, Katie. And I will tell you that having it on your ipod is so much better, because it looks to passerby that I am not making eye contact or watching the road because I am texting on my iphone and too cool for everyone around me, when I'm actually panic level orange and trying to figure out if I'm at least walking in the general direction of where I'm supposed to be heading. I am probably lost 80% of the time, but lucky for me, lost wandering is one of my favorite activities. All day I was thinking, "why don't I do this more?" Now I have goals. That's exciting. 

This was really long. Don't give up on me, I promise they won't all be this long.