A lil' update

So there are good days and there are bad days here in the 'non.

Bad days? Like that one time when I was teaching colors of the rainbow to my littlest (ages 6 and 7) kids and I had to walk around a little girl's puddle of throw as I was saying "bluuuuuuuue" and "orrrrrrange." Not so cool. Or like that one time when I made a little girl cry when we were doing family. Or like that one time when I got sent to the principal's office during class.

What the heck?

Yeah, during my awesome mcgee CM1 class, the teacher's aide pulled me in and was like "the principal wants to see you!" So immediately my heart started pounding. Thank the lo'd I'm not prone to flop sweat or I woulda been a puddle fo' sho. So I went to the principal and she's all wild-eye and crazy-lookin' and proceeded to ask me if I had my carte de sejour (the card that says I'm legal to stay and work in France b/c I have a job). Um, no I didn't have my card on me. "Well you need it!" "Um, ok, why?" "You need to fax it! Can you fax it? W e need to fax it right away! Fax it!" "uh, ok." "The Academie needs it as soon as possible! As soon as possible! Can you fax it today or tomorrow?" "Sure." (at this point my heart has pounded out of my chest because I'm thinking that I'm going to get deported or something.) Then I was allowed to return to class. Where we played xylophones and it was awesome.

Did I fax my carte de sejour?

Of course I didn't. I completely forgot.

Crud. I swear, it'll get done today!

And life in Avignon has really good days, too.

Like the fact that yesterday after my amazing breakfast (I intend to someday dedicate an entire post to how much I like breakfast) and my (way too much) time in front of the comp, I went and saw "Into the Wild" with Robyn and then we went and spent the rest of the afternoon together, eating a delicious lunch and chillin' in the kitchen drinking coffee and tea and laughing it up with Darija (that's me and the D in the pic).

Like the fact that yesterday was Nicole's birthday and holy crow I love that woman and her crepe dinner was the bomb (despite Avignon's most annoying waiter? Yeah, he wins that prize) and the company was awesome. And a post-crepe prendre of un verre at Liptzik (anyone read that as Lipstick? Or Lipzit? ) with the rest of the assistants was good, too. (L to R: Emily, katie, Amy, Robyn)

Like the fact that in one week and a day I'll be embarking on a ridiculously long vacation to Spain and Italy and it's guaranteed to be awesome. I'll hostel it, I'll CouchSurf, I'll eat tapas and pasta till I explode and I'll see amaaaaazing things. Then I'll come back and HEATHER WILL BE HERE and whoa I nearly cried from excitement just writing that and... yeah. Life has its ups, eh?

Was informed yesterday that the 4th markdown for sales has happened at this one store that I pass every day and it will take every ounce of willpower that I have not to go buy something. So I probably will. Ahhhhh.

Oohh Oooh! Am about to embark on a music thing with some peeps that should be amazing. Three women. Three-part harmony. Cover songs. Suggestions? So far we have...
The Shape I Found you In (duh)
Say Goodbye (duh again)
Angel from Montgomery
You and I Both

Keep 'em coming!

k.thx.bye.

but...

We used xylophones in class today. We used "doh" "fah" and "sol." SOL? SOL? What the bleep is that? Hoolie Andrews would need to lay the smack down.

the good, the bad, and the frickity crap i'm so stupid!

Hello.

So today has been a mixture of highs and lows and, as Homer Simpson would put it, "D'oh!"s

- First things first, I could NOT sleep last night. I was definitely awake till three and then woke up at five so my energy level today has been... well, I've been running on less than a full tank, basically. But the coffee was a-flowin' at work today so that's allll good.

+ As soon as I walked into work, I was greeted with "Emilie Emilie Emilie" (imagine little mice squeaking out your name. But in a really really cute way). I cannot handle how cute it is to hear their little choruses of my name. And, you know "Es-tu un garcon ou une fille?" (yes, they still ask me this)

+ One of my teachers took her kids skiing this week so I didn't have to go to a class!

- Boo, absolutely no control during my first class of the day. So disheartening, made me want to give up. Like a Negative Nelly (do people say that?).

+ My CM2 kids are really smart and I always forget how much they know and they like to show off and it's great because I think we might actually be getting somewhere on a weekly basis!

- Ok, here's a BIG BIG minus: In that very same (awesome) CM2 class, we were going over "How many?," family, and "to have." That means I ask "How many brothers do you have?" And they respond with a complete sentence (which is v. v. hard), "I have 3 brothers." So I was trying to go through all the family members that we've learned (from g-rents down to cousins) and I asked one quiet girl, who usually gives me maj probs, "How many mothers do you have?" When it took her way too long to answer I should have stopped. But no, I kept asking. DANG DANG DANG. If you had been in my head, you would have said "Turn around, Emily, run away!" But no, I didn't. I kept on asking. Eventually she started crying.
----- <-beaucoup de negatifs, mes amis: So then she left the roomw ith the teacher and I was like "qu'est-ce qui se passe?" and all the other kids told me that her mom died. FRICK. I felt SO BAD. SO SO bad. And so we tried to continue with the lesson but I was just horrified with myself. Eventually class ended and I busted out of there, not knowing what to say to E*.
------ <- MORE negative: Then the teacher met up with me after class and was like "Don't worry about it, Emily, you didn't know. But just so you do, you might want to know that E is adopted and her biological mother has died. And her adoptive mother just died too. She's now living with a classmate."
FRIIIIIIIIIICK. I had no idea. This is my worst nightmare. And it happened.
Well, in conclusion, it's going to be ok, but I sort of couldn't stop hating myself and my big pushy mouth for the rest of the day. Blugh.

+ During lunch I chatted for an hour with a teacher and another woman. And the other woman (ok, she works at the school but I don't really know what her job is) has a 21 year-old daughter who goes to school in Marseille and we've exchanged numbers so that when she's in town we can meet up and I can practice my French with her and she can practice her English. Holler! Also, it'd be cool if I had a connection with someone so I could CouchSurf in Marseille!

+ I finally did something right with the teacher who kinda scrres me! Yayyyy. In most of my classes today we sang "family Tree" which is a song by Tom Chapin that I grew up on - so we can practice family members in English. Of course in most of the classes we didn't even get through the chorus but that's all good. We'll refaire it next week and then sing "No One Like You" for Valentine's Day!

- I think this is the last negative thing of the day: I was harassed for hte first time today at the bus stop. What does that mean? It means that a guy asked me for a cigarette or something, I responded with no (ok, I don't remember how we started talking), he noticed my accent, I told him I'm American and he then proceeded to tell me he hates America and he asked me why America attacked Iraq. Awesome. Such a comfortable position to be in! I then told him I didn't want to have this conversation and did my best to ignore him as I sat there waiting for the bus. Too bad there was nowhere to go as this dude would not shut up. Luckily, the bus came five minutes later and then I had a nice chat with the driver.

Wooeee what a day!

*E: name has been protected for privacy

thoughts at 6:00 am

Frick!

Dang!

There's no hot water in the house! I can't shower!

That's only going to really hurt those living at 5 rue Saint Thomas d'Aquin tonight, post-gym.

Here are a few more things about life:
Today I'm singing a Tom Chapin song in one of my classes! ("we're a family and we're a tree/our roots grow deep down in history...")
And we're going to sing the Hokey Pokey (I'm told that this is very challenging). I'm going to teach exciting things like "left" "right" "in" "out." I'm particularly excited for next week - we are going to Valentine's Day it all UP in Sorgues.
the Mistral will blow me down today.
Michael Pollan, of The Omnivore's Dilemma, ROCKS and I wish I had his new book.
This weekend was full of Serbian food and I'm like hollah hey whoa. Serbian soup (key ingredient: paprika) and moussakah (frick, I know I spelled that wrong) (key ingredient: potatoes. and meat).

Anyone know how to play Happy Families?

hmm

So I just sat down, took out a pen and paper, and wrote half a sentence in a letter to m gma (the Cubs, if you will).

And I realized that I've gotten so accustomed to the computer that I think my real handwriting is Times New Roman. Or sometimes Beagle. Whoa.

Welcome back, l'ecriture d'Emily!

A MONTH AND A HALF.

thankyouverymuch.

Cannes!

"Riiiiiiiise and shiiiiiiiiiine and give God your glory glory! Riiiiiiise and shiiiiiiine and give God your gl-"

You're right. It's a little too early for that.

This morning I'm listening to a French CD of Celine Dion's in order to feel more French as the day begins. And, um, if my iTunes happens to play "That's the Way it Is" because that comes after the CD then... well... so be it. And I may or may not get really happy when it comes on.

So this weekend I went to Cannes! To visit Alice! And it was beautiful, just like my homegirrrrl.

This is our New York Times wedding photo. They might list us as Tall and Small in it. Or like Venti and Grande. Or Awesome McGee and the homie. Something like that. That in the background... that's a real sunset. In real-live Cannes. That was on the real beach. We are for real not wearing gloves or hats or scarves (sacre bleu!) in January.

JANUARY.

Whoa.

Left for Cannes yesterday Friday afternoon. As the train pulled into the station I couldn't help but start tearing up... here's my first connection to Home all up here in France. Yes, I know I had ma famille in England, but it's different because Alice is completely connected to my whole life all up in the States. After some miscommunication over where I was arriving (bus station? train station? bus? train?) we had a lovely reunion on the streets of the city.

And then we went directly to the grocery store. Do not pass go, do not collect 200, we went and bought some cookies. And cheese. And a lil wine. But mostly cookies and cheese.

And we spent the weekend eating, walking around, taking pictures of ourselves being beautiful, and just straight chillin'. I met tons of the people in her very cool-sounding program (she'll be living in Paris till June, taking classes to learn French and taking art history classes... I want to do that!) and they're from all over the country with allt heir different stories so there was lots of bavarder-ing all around.

So I'm pretty sure that Cannes doesn't have too much to offer other than the Film Festival, which is in May, and the beach. So the fact that Alice and I spent Saturday afternoon weaving in and out of stores looking for jeans and shoes is not a big deal and totally worth it, right? Because yes, I found a pair of jeans and they're not the skinny jeans, they're not 800 meters long, they're not gothic cargo... so they're perf! Hollah!

(Look! They're not wearing any pants! Vive la France!)

Did I tell you about that time that Alice and I were walking along the pier at eleven o'clock in the morning and we stumbled upon a black lacy thong? And I giggled hysterically and said something like "Vive la France." And the guy walking past me said "Vive les filles." Hahahaha. I think that's funny. Anyone else? Oh p.s. I think there's a thong-leaving epidemic here... just saw one yesterday morning on Rue Carnot!

And here's today's final picture of the Cannes-man taking his morning jog. Clearly this guy is fit and knows just how to rock it in January...


Raise your hand if you're shaking from too much caffeine!

Parlez-vous francais? Um, apparently not.

*this post may not be suitable for children under the age 15. Or for my parents. Sorry.

So today I went to the movies with mes amies, Emily and Amy. Hello, Utopia plays movies at noon every single day for only 3.50 euros! And since I'm all ballin' it right now I'm like hey girl hey hollahhhhh to going and spending those precious E's for some screen time. So yeah, yesterday I saw a British movie (which totally p'ed me off**) and today I saw the French film, Un baiser, s’il vous plait.

My understanding of the title? "A f***, please."

Sounded intriguing enough.

But, um, I was totally wrong. And, thus, I spent the entire film totally confused. All the way till the very end. All the way till when Amy and I were walking home for spaghetti and I was explaining how I didn't understand what happened en fin and she explained that "un baiser" is a kiss. Not a f***. OOOOOOOOOOOOH. So now the whole movie makes sense. And I want to re-watch it. But I feel too dumb.

So yeah. I was so proud of myself for getting through a French movie whose plot I (mostly) understood, whose dialogue I could decipher but then... yeah... BIG difference in the definition of baiser and my understanding of it.




**The film from yesterday? The British one? Death at a Funeral, that's its name. Ok the idea is that all these people with all these different stories get together at one funeral for an old guy. His sons throw the funeral, his widow is there, the whole town is there... The sons are strapped for cash, one woman shows up with her fiance high on hallucinogens, etc. etc. The whole premise? The one son, who pays for the funeral, is blackmailed by a guy who used to be the dead guy's lover. As in, if they don't pay up, said-guy will announce the homosexual affair to all those at the funeral and include in his announcement, a picture slide show of himself with his lover in rather compromising positions. Oh no! What are they to do! They don't have much money! But they bust out the checkbook immediately and chaos ensues.
I have so many problems with this. So many that I ended up shutting my eyes for some of the movie because I was so annoyed.
1) Lover of dead guy (ok, just to make it easier for the story-telling: he's a midget. So I will call him M) blackmails the two sons for 15,000 pounds. Why is it that M's blackmailing is almost a sure-deal? Because he's gay? Because the two sons don't want anyone to find out that their father was having a homosexual affair? Um yeah. The fact that it's a gay affair is more shocking, therefore more horrifying to the sons and they start writing the check. Would it have been as urgent to write the check if the affair had been a heterosexual one? I think not. Not at all. Grrrrrrrrr.
2) Why the hell is the gay lover using his relationship as blackmail anyway? What does that say to his relationship? I mean, basically this says that M isn't the best guy but it also doesn't do anything for the way gay relationships are shown in the media.
So yeah, I was really really frustrated with the movie. I will probably delete all this commentary in a few minutes but for now I'll put it out there.

Ooh, I will give the movie this: high naked guy on a roof is a pretty funny idea.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

PRAISE CHEESES!

Life is so so so so so so working out right now that I'm almost speechless.

Almost.

You: But Emily, what the frak is happening to have you all exclamation pointy today?

Me: Yo holler hey girl hey I got the CAF!

You: The CAF? What the bananas is that?

Me: It's like housing welfare money for people in France! They just... give you money!

You: Wait - I don't understand. The country of France just up and hands out money?

Me: Yeah - weird, isn't it? I mean, where does the money come from ? Heck if I know! All I had to do was fill out some forms saying I'm an English teaching assistant, telling them where I live and how much money I make and how much money I made last year, then my landlady had to sign some stuff and a month and a half later... BAM. Bling bling straight into my account!

You: Well hollah! Pound... and explode! So what does that mean? What are you doing now? What are you going to do?

Me: You mean since I don't have to survive on oatmeal like I thought I was going to have to do in order to pay for my amazing trip I have planned for Spain and Italy? Well first of all, it's the "soldes" all up in here in Avignon which means... stuff's on sale. And, um, I might buy some stuff. Don't worry! Just like... hand lotion and jeans. And maybe a coat. Oh wait, maybe I already bought one. But yeah! Besides that, I can now have a stress-free vacation AND I can travel travel travel and show Heather and Lisa a really good time here which is like priority number one and then I can buy my plane ticket back to the States and then I can just... sleep better at night.

You: Well hollah to that. Have a great time in Cannes this weekend visiting Alice!

Me: Thanks! I fo sho will!

And... scene.

Christmas Vacay Part Two

The mullet is growing back, my friends.
And I, at present time, cannot afford to get it cut.
So let it grow, let it grow.

Also, I am watching "Aladdin" with my nearest and dearest houseroomie, Darija. It's been awhile. The tupperware fart joke still makes me laugh.

Moving on...

So I didn't fill you all in on the rest of my Christmas vacation 2007! England what what! Well let's see...

After arriving in England after an exhausting night/morning, I got picked up at the airport by my way-too adorable cousins and their mom (whom I call Auntie Boo. yes, Auntie)(and who is awesome but not adorable because she is not under the age of 15 but I'm sure she certainly was adorable and... so yeah...)
They were holding a sign that had my name written on it. It was like the Rent-a-Car Service for the Price/Findleys. It was a really good way to arrive on the island.

We then all drove together to a service station somewhere in England (I should tell you that my knowledge of British geography is, like, negative a million. We would go to all these places when I was a kid and I would never ever look at a map. I only recently (within the past four years) found out where London really is. Shoot I just admitted that on the internet)). Anyyyyway, we went to a service station and met up with Cubca, my grandma (aka Cubs, Cubbie, the Cubster). She treated us to the world's most amazing service station food. I know, you're thinking Big Gulp, a hot dog off that rolly thing, and some Doritos. Heck no! I'm talking chicken tikka masala with rice and a muffin and a diet coke and e'erything! ohhhhhh man.

Then Cubca and I parted ways from AB and clan and headed to Bewdley. This is where my grandma lives in the coachhouse of a palace. On the top of a hill. In a small town. In England. Down the hill? The town church. Down farther from the church? The river. And a bridge. It's a beautiful place.

We stayed in Tickenhill for two days. We made mince pies and treacle tart and then I had to eat them. Dang. We went to an hors d'oeuvres party (oh crap I live in France and is that how you spell hors d'oeuvres? we'll pretend....) with my grandma to meet 'n greet her friends and say Joyeux Noel to everyone. Cubs wore a nice dress and I wore khakis and a sweater with a button-down shirt. Guess what,e veryone? I looked like every. single. (not-in-my-age-range) man. there.

My bad!

But hey, we were all stylin'. I'll repeat: Khakis, black sweater (ok, some wore dark blue), collared shirt = me and the guys!

Then we went to Auntie Boo's for Christmas! We arrived on Christmas Eve in Crowland. There's a bridge in the town that has three arches... we sang carols underneath it. Of course we were a little late and didn't get the book of lyrics so I did a lot of "la la la la la"-ing. But it was great. Did the descant, too, even though I was really sick.

Really really sick. Like, Cubca and I were dead on Christmas. Hackhackcoughcoughleakyeyes blowyournosehackhackcoughcoughcough.

It was like that.

But despite it all, I still managed to get really great pictures with my holycrapsupercute cousins. Here we go:
<-------- Natasha! And yours truly!


Ummmmm "Aladdin" is making me laugh out loud. For sure.

Christmas Day?
Was woken upa t 7:00am by Alex who greeted me at my bed with a tiny stocking with little Xmas knick and knacks. Through my couchs and nose-blows I managed to thank him and get out of bed. Grabbed some much-needed instant coffee from the aunt's and uncle's new kitchen (soooo pretty) and headed upstairs for the stockings.

The stockings my cousins have are bigger than their own bodies. I kid you not. That was truly amazing.

Then downstairs to get changed and prepared for service at the Methodist Church. It was a very chill affair, complete with hymns I, disappointingly, had never heard or seen before, but we had a cool part where the pastor put a map of the world out on the floor, gave us all petites bougies (little candles) and told us to place them on an area of the world where we have people we're thinking about. Those candles were e'erywhere.

Then of course back to PECAN House (Phil, Elizabeth, Caroline, Alex, Natasha <-- the names of the Dormor clan) for more presents. It was so great to see everyone opening everything. Especially the kiddlewinks. I waited to open mine because I wanted to watch everyone go ahead and I wanted to save them till nearer the end. Cubca got me this really amazing book called "New Europe" by Michael Palin all about Southern Eastern Europe. Basically it shows all these countries post-Cold War and I want to go to alllllll of them but for now I can look at hte pretty pictures and read the captions. It's all good. For Xmas I also got kicka$$ DVDs to watch in my spare time (I mean, we know that I have a lot of that :) ) and a gift cert to Apple because we all know I'm addicted and then I opened my gift from my Mom and Dad.

I'm just going to take a moment right here to say this: Christmas was way hard without my Findley fam (yes, Lisa, I just said fam). First Christmas away from home. And not just "away from home." I mean, I'm like 6000 miles away from home. So that was hard. But hey, I did have my British family which was so so so good and in no way am I saying that it wasn't. It was just... different. And yeah, I was homesick on Xmas.

So I opened my present from my Mom and my Dad. When I felt hte package it felt like one of those jumbo bags of candy that you get from Hershey's/Cadbury's for Halloween. YouknowwhatI'msayin'? So I was like "sweet! Candy!" But then I opened it and the room got a little more quiet and I immediately teared up. What did I find? My stocking. My mom had brought my stocking over from the US when she and Dad went to England in the fall. And what was in the stocking? A bunch of stuff to remind me of home. Stuff about Mackinaw Island, U of M, MSU, EL, Lansing, a really cute Michigan t-shirt, etc. etc. etc. I tried really hard not to cry in front o' my cousins but I couldn't help it - it was just ovewhelmingly perfect. I couldn't call the Findleys, though, because It was only 7 am there time so I just sat there, teared up, fanned my hand in front of my face (you know how I do) and grinned my face off.

Then we ate Christmas dinner!
Turkey, parsnips, cranberry sauce, brussel sprouts (I think there were 130 sprouts?), carrots, roasted potatoes... a feast fo' sho.
Then we ate Christmas pudding!
Yeah, I had real Christmas pudding. We tried to set it on fire (you know, brandy + flame = flambe) but we just ended up soaking the cake in brandy and we couldn't get it to light. And what would Christmas pudding be without brandy cream? Yeah, had that too.

Whoa. Stuffed. In the stomach and in the head from the disastrous cold that continued to live inside my body. Emotionally drained. But really happy. Homesick, happy. It was a great Christmas.

We also did the most amazing whistling tune thing from teh crackers and I know that doesn't make too much sense here but I will try to get a video up on YouTube so stay tuned!

We took the traditional Christmas walk whose sole purpose is to walk off about 5 of the calories consumed during Christmas dinner. We then watched Finding Nemo. And we watched "Doctor No." British people: I do NOT understand your obsession with that show. But then again, maybe I didn't get the full effect of it because I was knitting next to Cubca the entire time and trying to keep my head from floating off my neck.

Christmas was really good. Auntie Boo, Uncle Phil, Caroline, Natasha, Alex, Cubca... it was amazing to be with them.

I'm sorry I didn't get more pictures.

What to do? What to do?

I'd like to give a huge shoutout to the Frenchie who left a used, full diaper smack-dab in the middle of the street on Saturday night. Merci!

Also, today I am so nervous about money that I could definitely throw up.

I don't have a plane ticket home to the States yet because hello? planning nine months in advance is a little too much for me and now every ticket home is around the 1000 dollar mark and I have a mini heart attack whenever I go onto Orbitz or Travelocity or kayak. Questions to consider: should I fly Paris to New York since that's the cheaper option and then stay in New York for a few days, say hi to my peeps, volunteer at God's Love, and then go home? Or should I pay 400 more to fly straight to Detroit? Or should I fly to New York for the cheaper price, get a Spirit Airlines flight to Detroit for the same day and not say hi to anyone or do anything cool in that city that I love? Also, how many days afte rmy contract expires should I bounce out of France? Also, are there any jobs anywhere that I can do? Also, why are my two pinky toenails split in two?

Clearly I want to get home to ma famille, mes amis, l'eglise and my life back in Michigan. CLEARLY. I am so homesick right now I could just... eat chocolate (In about 3 minutes I'm going to go eat a chocolate-covered madeleine... No, not you, Madeleine - its a baked good). But if flying to New York is the more economically-savvy option, then should I fly there? And if I'm in New York and I don't know when I'll be back in New York, shouldn't I stay there for a few days? I think I know enough people to have that fun thing known as Free Housing while I'm around town which would be great but, let's also be honest, I wont have a penny to spend inside the World's Most Expensive City. Ok, I'll walk everywhere. Brooklyn to Manhattan? No problem. Do I want to go to a bar? I'll... flirt my way in? Toss my way-too short hair back and get a drink? Umm... yeah. See, that all sounds fun.

So yeah, this Homesick Emily who Really Wants to See New York Again isn't so sure what to do.

More on that later! Chocolate time!

Oh, high school

So I've been harking back to the Days of Yore recently and rehashing high school with certain people. High school? Yes, the period of my life during which I ate HoHo's for breakfast, sat by the garbage can and played guitar before school in the morning, and wrote a song to "Ozymandius" to get an A in English. This was also the time in my life when I wore a blue and BRIGHT ORANGE track suit to school as an outfit because I am cool like that, I discovered The Indigo Girls while being driven home by Lisa one afternoon, I was "the universe" for Halloween, and I left orchestra to go to the bathroom every single day at the exact same time.

It was a glorious period, clearly.

And in high school we took the PSATs. Oh, standardized tests... you're more terrifying than walking through the Commons. Standardized tests... I will never conquer you. I will never be an amazing test taker, I will never put enough effort into tests, I will never... Oh yeah! I'm done with school! I don't have to do that ever again!

I believe I have tried to erase the memories of these pre-college tests. Let' see... for the SAT the most I remember was driving all the way to Battle Creek at the buttcrack o' dawn for it (thanks, Dad!) and seeing Courtney Minifee there (what up, Courtney! Kindergarten to tests for college!). For the ACT I remember breezing through the English parts and getting to the science section and very seriously considering just leaving it blank. I mean, I know what a tree is, I know the words "nucleus" and "inertia" but don't ask me to put them in context! Science? Not my thing.

I don't really remember the PSAT whatsoever. Ooh, I remember filling in the bubbles of my name ("ok, emily, don't forget that in your full name there are two y's and those are the white bubbles... make sure you have two white bubbles at the end!) and the date and John Hancock-ing the sheet. I remember answering a few questions like "Do you like to organize your things?" and "When you ask a question to a group do you feel confident you will get an answer?" and stupid things like that. I remember thinking the PSAT was stupid. A test to see what I'm supposed to do with my life? How the crap are bubbles A through D going to pick that for me? Who's the oracle behind my scantron?

So I took my hour and a half, dutifully filled in each bubble to the best of my ability and a few weeks later we got our results. I felt a little nervous and a little giddy as I flipped to the page with my future job.

Ladies and gentlemen, what was I, Emily oohIhopeIcanbeasingersongwriterbutifnotiwouldlovetoownmyownbusiness Findley, going to be in life?

A meatpacker.

A meatpacker.

A meatpacker.

So I think part of the reason that I live in France right now is to prove that dang PSAT wrong and go and speak the h-e-double-hockey-sticks out of French and eat the animal products, not stand among them.

"est-ce que vous avez bien dormi hier soir?"

"NON, Madame, NON!"

I got out of bed at 5:45 this morning, unable to sleep. Madame, the matelas you have given me to sleep on it... like sleeping on a carré de bois. It is as if someone took the door off its hinges, put it down on some 'springs' and said "Voila, bonne nuit!" Heck no, sleeping on this mattress is not working out for me. Sure, stress makes me sleep less, as does the fact that my stomach gets hungry and wakes me up (should I admit that all over the internet?) but, for the most part, it's this stupiddumb mattress.

But HEY girl HEY Lisa just bought her plane ticket for France and we are going to have a great time! Yayyyyyyyy! I've purchased Marseille-Madrid and today I've got to do Sevilla-Florence and Rome-Paris and then I will weep a little bit. Bye bye, life savings. But hellllooooo cultural experiences and seizing the moment. I am feeling SO positive about all this traveling... I can't wait!

The song? Ah yes, the song. I figure the more I sing it the more I'll listen to myself, the more I'll internalize what I've written down. Once I do that things'll be better. Silvia found an open mic night thing here in Avignon on January 31st so I'm going to hit that up. Hopefully a video will happen!

If only I could sleep. If only if only if only.

Wrote a song today hollah hollahhhhhhhh
xox,
emily

First day back post-Christmas

I think I ate fish eggs tonight.

Take a minute. Think about that.

Today was my first day back with the kids and it was an AWESOME time. Seriously, the most fun I've had at school in awhile - my kids just had me cracking up. They were all so excited about the new year and dang they are still so good with my ego - I hear "Emily Jolie" all day long. This one little girl in particular keeps telling me I'm trop belle which is great and the next time I go to Angleterre, they all want to go with me. They'll fit into my suitcase.

My little kids? Remembered "Must Be Santa" that we sang TWO WEEKS AGO. They can barely remember their own names but they remembered Raffi's hit (in my childhood home) of 1989 or who knows when. They also remember "belly button" and "red" but they can't remember "brown" or "feet." We'll get there. Eventually.

Oh so my day was really awesome and upbeat and encouraging all the way until the end. When I got to the bus stop. You know how there's that bus driver who always breezes right past me? Well there's always another bus that comes approximately one minute after him and that's the bus I take to get home from Sorgues to Avignon. Today there was no second bus. This translates into NOT awesome. What did this mean? I had to wait for another bus and the buses only run once every hour so... I had to wait. An extra hour. In Sorgues. Which is kinda like a pit stop on the way to hell? Oh yeah - not to do a TMI or anything but... I really had to pee. And finding a toilette that's free in Sorgues? Impossible. Was everything but creepy bars shut at 5:00? Yup. Did I have to go into a creepy bar filled with only creepy men to ask about the bathroom? Yup. Did I order a coffee just to look 'chill' and then go check out the bathroom and OH it was a hole in the ground? YUP.

First hole-in-the-ground toilette I've had since I moved here. Fabulous.

Got the bus back to Avignon and went to an eight million course dinner at Micaela's for Darija's Christmas. That's when I ate fish eggs. Fish eggs on guacamole on fish on pumpkin. I felt like I was on "Top Chef" like whoa. And then of course there was turkey and stuffing. And then there was salad. And then there was chocolate freakin' fondue with fruit. Brilliant!

With that, I bid you good night. May you all arrive at sleep like whoa!

"Between the Lines" and "Gravity." Download them. Now.

It's 5:30 am and I am about to leave my house to go have an Eastern Orthodox Christmas breakfast.

Amazing!

And I've been up since 4:00 and I couldn't sleep at all last night... school stress keeps the sleep at bay, unfortunately. No idea if my kids are learning anything, no idea what my teachers think of me, no idea how their end-of-year challenge will go.

Current favorite music? Sara Bareilles. I'm pretty sure she's already a little famous in the States? Ok, as usual, I have no clue. Over here in France we're STILL listening to "Beautiful Girls" on repeat. On Sky Rrrrrrrock!

Holy whoa it is 2008

Howdy ho.

It's 2008. I'm going to turn 24 this year, I'm going to move back to the States, I'm going to (hopefully) find a good job, I'm going to spend (way too much) time on Facebook, I'm going to...

who the hell knows.

I just got back from 10 days of vacation in England! And I have some bad news: I have no pictures.
Why!?
It kinda totally slipped my mind.

I concentrated on the fun and awesomeness of being around family I haven't seen in 4 years and I forgot to capture it all on 'film.' So no one here can see how cute my little cousins are, how tall Caroline has gotten, how Rob and Alison and Jonny are all so grown up. No one can see how identical Auntie Boo looks to my mom, how Uncle Mike's smile is so freaking sweet and how big Uncle Andrew's head is and no one can see the smile of my gma, aka Cubca, as she hugs her dog, Jessye, or shows me a new stitch for knitting.

Oh man it was a good time. I think I will blog about it in chunks.

Chapter One: Getting to England!
*I realize the last post was a little bit of a downer. Apologies. I know it seems like life here in Avignon is all fun 'n games all the time but early December was kind of hard for me. Homesickness, stuff going on in Avignon... it all kind of hit at the beginning of the month. But things got better bit by bit and now I'm here in 2008 with a pretty positive outlook on it all so we'll see how it goes!*
On Friday the 21st I left Avignon, via train, at 4:15 in the morning headed for Nice. FOUR FIFTEEN IN THE MORNING. Yup. Instead of going to bed like a normal person would, I decided to stay up all night. I mean, I was going to have to wake up at 3:30 anyway, right? Ok BAD IDEA. NEVER TO REPEAT. I drank so much pop and coffee and ate so many sugar cookies that once 2 am hit my stomach attacked me and I had the worst stomach ache of my entire life. It really felt like someone put my stomach through a pasta-maker... flattening it into all sorts of nood. So unfortunate. But other than that, my night was really really good, I thought.
Four fifteen train ride? No problem. Arrived at the train station just before four o'clock which was the hour the station was to open so everyone was hanging outside. And by 'everyone' I mean 'all the shady people of Avignon.' Don't worry, Mom and Dad, it was all good. Got to the platform, drank a little hot chocolate (again, not so good for the stomach at that point) and got on the train. Hugged and kissed Avignon goodbye and sat down in the dark train car for a 4 hour journey to Nice, from where I'd be getting the plane to England.
But of COURSE as soon as I sat down in seat 11, these two French women started speaking REALLY LOUDLY to each other for the next forty-five minutes. Again, that's at 4:15. From 4:15 to 5:00 am these women would not. shut. up. What the bananas. In my caffeine-crazed state I could not stammer out any words in English or in French for "please, shut the bleep up" but oh how I wish I had.
At 5:00 both women exited the train. Praise the lo'd. I managed to get around an hour and a half of sleep after that until French Woman #2 decided to get on her cell phone and speak, really loudly, to French Friend about getting a taxi. For, like, a good 20 minutes. This was while our train was stopped at a random place somewhere between Avignon and Nice... an unscheduled stop. So French Woman #2 spoke to French Friend for the time we were stopped, making us late for our arrival in Nice. Keep in mind that I only had an hour and a half between arriving at the Nice train station and getting to the Nice airport to check in with EasyJet. I was panicking a little. Nah, a LOT.
Did we make it to the train station on time? We rolled in at 9:30 am. I had to check in by 10:00 am! The airport is a 15 minute bus ride away! My thoughts? "Oh HELL no!" So I befriended the girl next to me (Irish - very sweet) and we decided to split a taxi to the airport. I was overcharged (um twenty euros for a 7 minute car ride? Thanks!) but got to the airport at 9:52. Ran to EasyJet and what do I find? My flight was delayed by forty minutes! Awesome. So I checked in, paid an additional 12 euros to check my bag (awesome again), mailed my pocketknife to myself (of course I forgot to pack that in my checked baggage) and make some hasty calls to Avignon to get my Englanders informed that I'd be late. I'd say the hour from 9:30 to 10:30 on that Friday morning was one anxiety-riddled one.

So yeah, the plane took off, I landed at London Luton, and it was all good. My cousins and my aunt greeted me at the airport with a sign with "Emily" printed on it. Too freaking cute. I saw that family just two years ago when they made a trip to the US. My then-8-year-old cousin and I formed a band called Utter Dung and I wrote them a very catchy tune with the title "We're in America" (clearly, I'm an original).
My family then drove me down the road to meet up with my grandma, aka Cubca, who was my hostess for the next ten days. Family reunions all around are amazing and it was so good to see Cubca with her little blue car and her dog in the backseat. Cubca and I said goodbye to Boo 'n co. and set off for the little town of Bewdley to really begin Christmas Vacation 2007.

Reminders to self in 2008: Traveling early in the morning isn't so bad but REALLY make sure you get some sleep beforehand. EasyJet people are not as helpful as they look, even though they are wearing bright orange. The taxi driver might overcharge you if he hears you speaking any English - try to haggle? Next time speak up to annoying ladies on the train... you have every right to sleep!