You come for me in the worst of places
You come for me, you come and try to take me home
I'm always in need and it's hard to be reciprocating
The fabric of our life gets torn
And everything's changing so how am I to know
How I'm going to hold on to you when I'm spinning out of control
-Ryan Adams "Everybody Knows" off of Easy Tiger
Friday, October 12, 2007
Thursday, September 27, 2007
Goals:
1. Wing things more often. IE: just buy a ticket to go somewhere and figure the rest out later
2. Concentrate on remembering the details, so later I can think about how awesome everything is.
3. Know French more, speak with my French family more, and not be afraid of my new conversation partner.
So far, that's it.
2. Concentrate on remembering the details, so later I can think about how awesome everything is.
3. Know French more, speak with my French family more, and not be afraid of my new conversation partner.
So far, that's it.
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
France & it's Effects
So, I've been in France now for a little over two weeks. Hard to believe it. I've been taking a Travel Writing class as part of my requirements at the University of Pau. Here's a story I wrote about one of my experiences thus far.
So, here we are:
To say that France is on the other side of the world is geographically incorrect, but to say that it's barely, mildly, minute detail-y correct with regard to cultural differences, Fine.
But that's it.
__________
Something like Wal-mart should have been familiar, but then again, it was just something like Wal-mart. And France's chain super store, "LeClair" isn't Wal-mart.
Yeah, it's got Neutrogena body products, back packs and a fruit section, but it's also got an unrefrigerated milk section and security guards prepared for those inevitable thieves: French masterminds and foreigners alike.
Fifteen minutes until class was certainly enough to scour the store for delicious French pastries and delicious French pop, soda, coke, you know, with delicious French sweets practically popping off the shelves every which way.
Hypothetically, fifteen minutes is enough time for everything including the trudge across what often feels like a super highway spanning two directions and a grassy island in between, but is really just Alles Condorcet. Hypothetically.
But it's not as if you've got a French mindset telling you otherwise, meaning the truth that fifteen minutes is not enough time.
So I took my chances in search of that delectable delight of a Fruit tart a friend and I had for the last two days. Who am I to break my new found tradition. Three's a charm right? Or is that just a phrase fitting in the United States (Aux Etats-Unis, I mean.)
Friend in tote, the two of us paraded down the stretch of side walk separating the French version of Walmart and the French version of college.
It's not like we looked suspicious, no, we didn't look suspicious at all. So, we were matching. It's not like we had planned it. There were no calls made: white "T" with jeans, gym shoes, yeah, any color.
We were in a rush, but honestly, we were American, and looked it. They don't make short red-heads in France.
Marching toward the back wall, nothing but an aisle of diapers between us and les sucres, we eyed the lower shelf. Yes, it's us again our faces said to the French women who now recognized our salivating mouths.
"Oui, bonjour! Je voudrais un tartilles, oui, un euro, quarant centiemes. Oui, merci."
I had barely noticed my friend announce her choice, reoccupied with my pending joy.
"Oui, moi aussi, mais je voudrais un tartilles, un euro. Merci beaucoup!"
In unison: "Je paye ici."
"D'accord," they said in return.
"Merci!"
We needed to get back though, we had learning to do. Oh, no, 4:20, I mean, seize heures, vente.
Glancing at the pastry box in my friend's grip, we walked out through a non-exit. She bustled through without a hitch. She didn't look like a thief, but neither did I. Beep, Beep, Beep. Three seconds later my small orange bag was shuffled through as if I was a common criminal by the security guard.
Taking each item out one by one and starring suspiciously at that MADE IN AMERICA SPF 55 Neutragena sunscreen. I could tell he thought, that pale skin doesn't fool me Miss USA. No one in France ever carries sunscreen apparently, only if they've thrown it in their bag without paying at LeClair.
"Come with me" he said in French. This is the most action he's gotten all week. No, my friend couldn't come in the back room to get searched like me. Padded down at a grocery store, LeClair doesn't fool around. No, definitely not.
He left me alone for about ten seconds and eyed me as I attempted to sit down. Five seconds after that a smiling blond French woman came toward me with a metal detector. "You can have the sunscreen!" I said in my mind. "You don't need sunscreen, get burnt!"
"Where did you get your pants mademoiselle" she said in French.
I panicked, "H et M." That was a lie! They're American made, GAP.
My mind flashed questions: Do they have firing squads in France? Did that door lead to their secret shotgun room?
"When did you get those pants?" she followed up.
"Yesterday," another lie. I got them two months ago.
Apparently I hadn't cut off the metal security protector mischievously hidden on the left inside pant leg. That GAP employee is laughing now as they think of their customers pent up in bag rooms at French super stores.
"You can go," I heard them mutter in disappointment.
"I can have my sunscreen?"
"Yes."
Exiting the death chamber the color in my face returned.
Is it warmer out here? My breath wasn't white as it left the confines of my lungs.
"What happened?" Concerned friend.
She hadn't eaten her tart. I wouldn't have blamed her if she had.
Placing the crumbling crust, melting custard and sugar coated fruits onto my tongue, I thought, "French pastries are worth the interrogation."
So, here we are:
To say that France is on the other side of the world is geographically incorrect, but to say that it's barely, mildly, minute detail-y correct with regard to cultural differences, Fine.
But that's it.
__________
Something like Wal-mart should have been familiar, but then again, it was just something like Wal-mart. And France's chain super store, "LeClair" isn't Wal-mart.
Yeah, it's got Neutrogena body products, back packs and a fruit section, but it's also got an unrefrigerated milk section and security guards prepared for those inevitable thieves: French masterminds and foreigners alike.
Fifteen minutes until class was certainly enough to scour the store for delicious French pastries and delicious French pop, soda, coke, you know, with delicious French sweets practically popping off the shelves every which way.
Hypothetically, fifteen minutes is enough time for everything including the trudge across what often feels like a super highway spanning two directions and a grassy island in between, but is really just Alles Condorcet. Hypothetically.
But it's not as if you've got a French mindset telling you otherwise, meaning the truth that fifteen minutes is not enough time.
So I took my chances in search of that delectable delight of a Fruit tart a friend and I had for the last two days. Who am I to break my new found tradition. Three's a charm right? Or is that just a phrase fitting in the United States (Aux Etats-Unis, I mean.)
Friend in tote, the two of us paraded down the stretch of side walk separating the French version of Walmart and the French version of college.
It's not like we looked suspicious, no, we didn't look suspicious at all. So, we were matching. It's not like we had planned it. There were no calls made: white "T" with jeans, gym shoes, yeah, any color.
We were in a rush, but honestly, we were American, and looked it. They don't make short red-heads in France.
Marching toward the back wall, nothing but an aisle of diapers between us and les sucres, we eyed the lower shelf. Yes, it's us again our faces said to the French women who now recognized our salivating mouths.
"Oui, bonjour! Je voudrais un tartilles, oui, un euro, quarant centiemes. Oui, merci."
I had barely noticed my friend announce her choice, reoccupied with my pending joy.
"Oui, moi aussi, mais je voudrais un tartilles, un euro. Merci beaucoup!"
In unison: "Je paye ici."
"D'accord," they said in return.
"Merci!"
We needed to get back though, we had learning to do. Oh, no, 4:20, I mean, seize heures, vente.
Glancing at the pastry box in my friend's grip, we walked out through a non-exit. She bustled through without a hitch. She didn't look like a thief, but neither did I. Beep, Beep, Beep. Three seconds later my small orange bag was shuffled through as if I was a common criminal by the security guard.
Taking each item out one by one and starring suspiciously at that MADE IN AMERICA SPF 55 Neutragena sunscreen. I could tell he thought, that pale skin doesn't fool me Miss USA. No one in France ever carries sunscreen apparently, only if they've thrown it in their bag without paying at LeClair.
"Come with me" he said in French. This is the most action he's gotten all week. No, my friend couldn't come in the back room to get searched like me. Padded down at a grocery store, LeClair doesn't fool around. No, definitely not.
He left me alone for about ten seconds and eyed me as I attempted to sit down. Five seconds after that a smiling blond French woman came toward me with a metal detector. "You can have the sunscreen!" I said in my mind. "You don't need sunscreen, get burnt!"
"Where did you get your pants mademoiselle" she said in French.
I panicked, "H et M." That was a lie! They're American made, GAP.
My mind flashed questions: Do they have firing squads in France? Did that door lead to their secret shotgun room?
"When did you get those pants?" she followed up.
"Yesterday," another lie. I got them two months ago.
Apparently I hadn't cut off the metal security protector mischievously hidden on the left inside pant leg. That GAP employee is laughing now as they think of their customers pent up in bag rooms at French super stores.
"You can go," I heard them mutter in disappointment.
"I can have my sunscreen?"
"Yes."
Exiting the death chamber the color in my face returned.
Is it warmer out here? My breath wasn't white as it left the confines of my lungs.
"What happened?" Concerned friend.
She hadn't eaten her tart. I wouldn't have blamed her if she had.
Placing the crumbling crust, melting custard and sugar coated fruits onto my tongue, I thought, "French pastries are worth the interrogation."
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
France---well, almost
I have just about 4 days before I depart for France.
Honestly, I haven't made a lot of time for myself to think and plan and all that. I mean, I made probably 10 To-Do lists. I've counseled my University Studies Abroad Consortium (USAC) packets an innumerable amount of times. There doesn't seem to be much more to do, yet I feel incredibly anxious and unsure and to be honest, a little scared. Obviously these are all normal and even natural feelings. Of course adjustment to another lifestyle, language and set of people to hang out with will be most likely trial and error. But, I imagine all will work itself out.
One thing that I touched on briefly while chatting with someone about my extended out-of-country experience, was the possibility for things like illness and death and all of that. It freaks me out to think of what could happen. Brian said that as far as that's concerned I shouldn't be with it. He's right, because it is true that even if I were in Iowa I'd have to come home. The only difference is a pricey plane ticket. Everything else will hurt just the same.
Anyway, there are certainly a zillion things I'm looking forward to. Examples:
1. French Cuisine
2. French Couture
3. French Culture
4. French Language
5. Travel & Adventures!
6. New people
Right now I'm just thinking about how much I already miss my friends who have returned to school without me. Plus, I think that working at my father's office has brought on a little boredom with life in Lake Forest. Not that it was ever that arresting.
On a completely unrelated note, I want a new computer. Mine is no good. However, this far I do not have the proper finances to afford the MacBook Pro. It'll have to wait as I'm planning to spend my cash abroad.
If any of you don't already have my mailing address feel free to shoot one my way.
Brigid Marshall
C/O Robina Müller
Bureau 136 Faculté des Lettres
Université de Pau
64000 Pau, FRANCE
Au revoir mes amies.
Honestly, I haven't made a lot of time for myself to think and plan and all that. I mean, I made probably 10 To-Do lists. I've counseled my University Studies Abroad Consortium (USAC) packets an innumerable amount of times. There doesn't seem to be much more to do, yet I feel incredibly anxious and unsure and to be honest, a little scared. Obviously these are all normal and even natural feelings. Of course adjustment to another lifestyle, language and set of people to hang out with will be most likely trial and error. But, I imagine all will work itself out.
One thing that I touched on briefly while chatting with someone about my extended out-of-country experience, was the possibility for things like illness and death and all of that. It freaks me out to think of what could happen. Brian said that as far as that's concerned I shouldn't be with it. He's right, because it is true that even if I were in Iowa I'd have to come home. The only difference is a pricey plane ticket. Everything else will hurt just the same.
Anyway, there are certainly a zillion things I'm looking forward to. Examples:
1. French Cuisine
2. French Couture
3. French Culture
4. French Language
5. Travel & Adventures!
6. New people
Right now I'm just thinking about how much I already miss my friends who have returned to school without me. Plus, I think that working at my father's office has brought on a little boredom with life in Lake Forest. Not that it was ever that arresting.
On a completely unrelated note, I want a new computer. Mine is no good. However, this far I do not have the proper finances to afford the MacBook Pro. It'll have to wait as I'm planning to spend my cash abroad.
If any of you don't already have my mailing address feel free to shoot one my way.
Brigid Marshall
C/O Robina Müller
Bureau 136 Faculté des Lettres
Université de Pau
64000 Pau, FRANCE
Au revoir mes amies.
Monday, August 13, 2007
Recaps
After what was probably the strangest weekend full of shady memories and questionable events I'm almost, almost glad I have a 9-5 job today. I mean, of course, not really.
Wait, let's recap: my lovely friend Rebecca needed a couple of those after last Tuesday's downtown 21st birthday fest. In adorable Goldstein fashion Ms. Rebes-ee felt it a necessary action to love tap (or just smack) her three friends (Kerst, Kate and myself) with the tupperwear cap her mother had given her for the much coveted chococate cake. Obviously Rebecca left it on the train...but not before her lovely dance moves took on the Chicago Union Pacific Metra train and all of the passengers in car 3. It was a night to remember.
"So, [insert Chicago Cab driver name], who are you voting for in '08?"
Rebes is voting for Obama, in case you were curious.
She wasn't the only one with interesting stories following the first full week of August.
From Teddy O'Brian's to a night of white wine and Nickel Creek, plus Amy's amazing return home from Philly, I felt good about where my friendships have gone since I first started making them.
I can guarantee that if you were there to witness the magic of last weekend in particular, you were a lucky one.
Recaps are still necessary.
Newport Coffee, anyone?
Wait, let's recap: my lovely friend Rebecca needed a couple of those after last Tuesday's downtown 21st birthday fest. In adorable Goldstein fashion Ms. Rebes-ee felt it a necessary action to love tap (or just smack) her three friends (Kerst, Kate and myself) with the tupperwear cap her mother had given her for the much coveted chococate cake. Obviously Rebecca left it on the train...but not before her lovely dance moves took on the Chicago Union Pacific Metra train and all of the passengers in car 3. It was a night to remember.
"So, [insert Chicago Cab driver name], who are you voting for in '08?"
Rebes is voting for Obama, in case you were curious.
She wasn't the only one with interesting stories following the first full week of August.
From Teddy O'Brian's to a night of white wine and Nickel Creek, plus Amy's amazing return home from Philly, I felt good about where my friendships have gone since I first started making them.
I can guarantee that if you were there to witness the magic of last weekend in particular, you were a lucky one.
Recaps are still necessary.
Newport Coffee, anyone?
Friday, August 10, 2007
Post Consumer Consuming
What's a post consumer product? I feel as if it has something to do with saving the environment, but if you buy a post consumer product what does that make you? See what I mean? The marketing just doesn't make a whole lot of sense.
On top of that debacle I am hungry.
On top of that debacle I am hungry.
Thursday, July 19, 2007
1,000 Beats Per Minute
Yeah, that's how fast this summer seems to be going. I can hardly believe how quickly May, June and now 1/2 way through July, have gone. Everyone is getting ready to move out of their current place of residence onto another venue to place their weary heads. And here I am, doing the same, but I don't even know where I'll be resting this next semester, or if I'll even have time to.
So far almost everything for my semester abroad has arrived. The only things left are:
1. obtain a visa (long stay, student visa)
2. find out who I'll be living with (for my home stay)
Plus a few left over dollars have first to be earned and then paid.
I'm starting to become really nervous actually. I told my friend Megan that I thought I'd be a terrible French person and the epitome of all things horribly American. She laughed and said I had anxiety issues, and basically, I'll be fine. So what if I have slight anxiety, I mean, who wouldn't? But it's the good kind, the kind that's justified, because everyone's a little scared of the unknown, but not everyone's willing to try it out.
Studying abroad is a pretty good step in the direction of living fearlessly, and I'm really excited for it. But of course, things will continue here, and when I return many things will have changed, but for now, I hope that not everything changes. I'll really miss life here, and it's a good thing that I recognize that now. The only thing that makes it rough is there's a life I'll be leaving on hold.
So far almost everything for my semester abroad has arrived. The only things left are:
1. obtain a visa (long stay, student visa)
2. find out who I'll be living with (for my home stay)
Plus a few left over dollars have first to be earned and then paid.
I'm starting to become really nervous actually. I told my friend Megan that I thought I'd be a terrible French person and the epitome of all things horribly American. She laughed and said I had anxiety issues, and basically, I'll be fine. So what if I have slight anxiety, I mean, who wouldn't? But it's the good kind, the kind that's justified, because everyone's a little scared of the unknown, but not everyone's willing to try it out.
Studying abroad is a pretty good step in the direction of living fearlessly, and I'm really excited for it. But of course, things will continue here, and when I return many things will have changed, but for now, I hope that not everything changes. I'll really miss life here, and it's a good thing that I recognize that now. The only thing that makes it rough is there's a life I'll be leaving on hold.
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