The other night as I was tucking A and B into bed and they started asking about my family. I told them about my mom and my dad and my house and my life in the US.
They were absolutely awestruck when I explained that I don't have brothers of sisters. They did not think this was a possibility. B asked me several times about brothers or sisters, why I didn't have any, where they were, if I wanted them and mostly questions about how on earth I spent all of that alone time.
After I answered all of their questions, B said to me, Amanda, you have brothers? And I said, no sweetheart I don't. And he vehemently nodded and said, but yes, you do!
We can be your brothers if you want.
Monday, October 22, 2012
Thursday, October 18, 2012
The first French person to make me cry
French public servants are the worst.
To ride the metro, you need tickets. Tickets are expensive, so you get a Navigo pass. Navigo passes are expensive so you apply for a student Navigo at a reduced rate.
You fill out all of your paperwork and send them money and then you wait 21 days and they send you a metro pass that is way cheaper than recharging your pass each month.
So, I did all of that. And then I waited. And I waited. And I waited.
Today I got an email basically saying that they sent my pass to the address on file but it was sent back because "I don't live at the address given."
Since I do not have my own letter box, I have to put my name then underneath it: chez (name of my family). I did that. Apparently the mail man still can't figure it out. Annoyed.
So this email gave me a number to call. I called it. Please remember my dislike for the phone in general plus then my general difficulties with spoken French. After telling the man on the other line why I was calling, he asked me a few questions such as; what is your account number (I don't have one because I've not gotten my paperwork back) what is your last name? (VanOsdol) and your first name? (Amanda) how do you spell your last name (V-A-N-O-S-D-O-L)
Okay, ZANOFDOL. (no, V as in Victor, S as in Sam)
After this frustrating exchange the man on the phone interrupts me and says,
Mademoiselle, do you know anyone who speaks better French? Call me back when you find someone who speaks French.
....the rudest.
To ride the metro, you need tickets. Tickets are expensive, so you get a Navigo pass. Navigo passes are expensive so you apply for a student Navigo at a reduced rate.
You fill out all of your paperwork and send them money and then you wait 21 days and they send you a metro pass that is way cheaper than recharging your pass each month.
So, I did all of that. And then I waited. And I waited. And I waited.
Today I got an email basically saying that they sent my pass to the address on file but it was sent back because "I don't live at the address given."
Since I do not have my own letter box, I have to put my name then underneath it: chez (name of my family). I did that. Apparently the mail man still can't figure it out. Annoyed.
So this email gave me a number to call. I called it. Please remember my dislike for the phone in general plus then my general difficulties with spoken French. After telling the man on the other line why I was calling, he asked me a few questions such as; what is your account number (I don't have one because I've not gotten my paperwork back) what is your last name? (VanOsdol) and your first name? (Amanda) how do you spell your last name (V-A-N-O-S-D-O-L)
Okay, ZANOFDOL. (no, V as in Victor, S as in Sam)
After this frustrating exchange the man on the phone interrupts me and says,
Mademoiselle, do you know anyone who speaks better French? Call me back when you find someone who speaks French.
....the rudest.
Wednesday, October 17, 2012
Back to school
So my classes in French officially began on October 1st. I have a visitation class Mondays from 12-1:30ish where we meet at different locations around Paris and learn about them/ discuss them. Then I have another class that meets Tuesday/Friday from 1-3:15. This is my language/grammar/vocabulary class and it's the longest of my life.
I took a written test in French and then had to go take a quick little oral test. My written French is apparently at a much higher level than my speaking French which is apparently troubling for all involved.
I was placed in a class a little below my level to hopefully help me improve my speaking. Here is what I believe to be the problem: when I speak, even in English, I speak really fast. In order to try to keep up with the French, I just go. I could talk non stop for 10 minutes but none of the verbs would be conjugated correctly and my pronouns would be misplaced. When I write, I have time to write out verbs, spell them correctly, make them agree where they are supposed to and all the things you're supposed to do, however I still make faults. This is typical. French is tricky.
So the woman giving me the test told me that after the first 10 weeks I can switch to a higher level. Cool. I go to my own class.
It's a great review. Tons of things that I need to remember and it's really great going over the rules that I have forgotten. However; it is review for me. Some of the people in my class are just learning this stuff so it takes a few times to explain everything.
This makes the class go extremely slow. I am glad for the review but when it takes 45 minutes to learn how to conjugate the imperfect tense, I want to cry from boredom.
So the first or second day, my teacher explains that we are going to do exposés every Friday. The first one is going to be about our home countries. We get to explain our geographical location, culture, traditions etc.
Um... I'm from the united states. Everyone knows where we are. We don't have a culture. We take things from other cultures and make then worse by making them 'amurican' that is our culture. Ps. I'm the only American.
So I come to the realization that I'm eventually going to stand in this room in front of all these foreigners and tell them where the united states is. And about our culture. I hate everything about this idea but eventually I accept the terms.
My teacher asks for volunteers. I normally always volunteer to go near the beginning of things so that I can just be done with them and not have to worry. Not a single person offers to go first, not even the loud mouthed Russian girl. Great.
I realize the implications of the American volunteering to go first to talk about her home country. I'm annoyed with myself as I raise my hand. The teacher says ok, Amanda, what country will you be discussing. As I said "des etats-unis" I couldn't help but laugh at the ridiculous image.
The entire class giggles along with me. Apparently it's a 'thing' to have an American friend though, because after that everyone wanted to chat about where they had been in the US, and where I was from, and how much they loooooved x type of horrible American food.
I went to go give my exposé on Friday. (written entirely about Indiana instead of all the united states. There's even a blurb about IU basketball...of course.)
My teacher was sick. This Friday it is.
I took a written test in French and then had to go take a quick little oral test. My written French is apparently at a much higher level than my speaking French which is apparently troubling for all involved.
I was placed in a class a little below my level to hopefully help me improve my speaking. Here is what I believe to be the problem: when I speak, even in English, I speak really fast. In order to try to keep up with the French, I just go. I could talk non stop for 10 minutes but none of the verbs would be conjugated correctly and my pronouns would be misplaced. When I write, I have time to write out verbs, spell them correctly, make them agree where they are supposed to and all the things you're supposed to do, however I still make faults. This is typical. French is tricky.
So the woman giving me the test told me that after the first 10 weeks I can switch to a higher level. Cool. I go to my own class.
It's a great review. Tons of things that I need to remember and it's really great going over the rules that I have forgotten. However; it is review for me. Some of the people in my class are just learning this stuff so it takes a few times to explain everything.
This makes the class go extremely slow. I am glad for the review but when it takes 45 minutes to learn how to conjugate the imperfect tense, I want to cry from boredom.
So the first or second day, my teacher explains that we are going to do exposés every Friday. The first one is going to be about our home countries. We get to explain our geographical location, culture, traditions etc.
Um... I'm from the united states. Everyone knows where we are. We don't have a culture. We take things from other cultures and make then worse by making them 'amurican' that is our culture. Ps. I'm the only American.
So I come to the realization that I'm eventually going to stand in this room in front of all these foreigners and tell them where the united states is. And about our culture. I hate everything about this idea but eventually I accept the terms.
My teacher asks for volunteers. I normally always volunteer to go near the beginning of things so that I can just be done with them and not have to worry. Not a single person offers to go first, not even the loud mouthed Russian girl. Great.
I realize the implications of the American volunteering to go first to talk about her home country. I'm annoyed with myself as I raise my hand. The teacher says ok, Amanda, what country will you be discussing. As I said "des etats-unis" I couldn't help but laugh at the ridiculous image.
The entire class giggles along with me. Apparently it's a 'thing' to have an American friend though, because after that everyone wanted to chat about where they had been in the US, and where I was from, and how much they loooooved x type of horrible American food.
I went to go give my exposé on Friday. (written entirely about Indiana instead of all the united states. There's even a blurb about IU basketball...of course.)
My teacher was sick. This Friday it is.
Thursday, October 11, 2012
Don't hate on Spotify.
This is just a quick little blurb on how I made a few new friends!
When you move to a foreign country, expats tend to clump together in awkward ways. For example, there are 3-4 bars in Paris that play American football games. So on a Sunday, you go to them, see who is watching the same game as you, eventually realize that you are cheering for the same team or against each other, and proceed to start discussing your whereabouts. I have not met a single person from Indiana this way. I have, however, met lots of people from Wisconsin and New York. Katherine seems to constantly find Saints fans and even found a kid who went to her same high school and was a year below her.
The other thing about being abroad is that either you find out that someone you know is traveling through your city so you try to set up coffee/dinner/drinks or someone knows you live in a place so they put it on their itinerary and shoot you an email. Both of these things are fine by me and I welcome them; however, as the last two people to meander through the city to try to meet up with me have determined, I have the worlds most awkward schedule, so it's easier said than done.
All that said, Katherine found out that a guy she knew in high school is studying French here at the Sorbonne so we decided to meet up with him to watch football one Sunday. He says he is bringing along friends from his class. I assume other Americans. Incorrect.
He brings Swedish people! Now I'm not going to give you all the impression that I have made best friends with a bajillion Swedes because that is just simply not the case. Plus as anyone can tell you, you're not really friends with someone until you're friends on Facebook, and I'm only Facebook friends with one of them so far.
But, I have played kings with them,
I've been to their apartment and learned that you do not wear shoes in someone else's house, not even if you're a stranger,
you don't discuss Madonna because of the extremely heated debate that ensues about her merits as a singer vs. her terrifying personality,
Swedish girls like big necklaces,
and you don't hate on Spotify, no matter how badly it confuses or frustrates you, because it was invented in Sweden and they are extremely proud of that fact.
I've also been taught several Swedish words that I promptly forgot. C'est la vie.
When you move to a foreign country, expats tend to clump together in awkward ways. For example, there are 3-4 bars in Paris that play American football games. So on a Sunday, you go to them, see who is watching the same game as you, eventually realize that you are cheering for the same team or against each other, and proceed to start discussing your whereabouts. I have not met a single person from Indiana this way. I have, however, met lots of people from Wisconsin and New York. Katherine seems to constantly find Saints fans and even found a kid who went to her same high school and was a year below her.
The other thing about being abroad is that either you find out that someone you know is traveling through your city so you try to set up coffee/dinner/drinks or someone knows you live in a place so they put it on their itinerary and shoot you an email. Both of these things are fine by me and I welcome them; however, as the last two people to meander through the city to try to meet up with me have determined, I have the worlds most awkward schedule, so it's easier said than done.
All that said, Katherine found out that a guy she knew in high school is studying French here at the Sorbonne so we decided to meet up with him to watch football one Sunday. He says he is bringing along friends from his class. I assume other Americans. Incorrect.
He brings Swedish people! Now I'm not going to give you all the impression that I have made best friends with a bajillion Swedes because that is just simply not the case. Plus as anyone can tell you, you're not really friends with someone until you're friends on Facebook, and I'm only Facebook friends with one of them so far.
But, I have played kings with them,
I've been to their apartment and learned that you do not wear shoes in someone else's house, not even if you're a stranger,
you don't discuss Madonna because of the extremely heated debate that ensues about her merits as a singer vs. her terrifying personality,
Swedish girls like big necklaces,
and you don't hate on Spotify, no matter how badly it confuses or frustrates you, because it was invented in Sweden and they are extremely proud of that fact.
I've also been taught several Swedish words that I promptly forgot. C'est la vie.
Wednesday, October 10, 2012
Aileen comes to visit
So I had my first long term guest two weeks ago when Aileen came to stay for a week! (I don't count Marianthi spending the night and missing her train the next morning, although I probably should since she was my first guest and her missing the train was partly my fault)
She flew in on a Saturday morning, I gave her explicit instructions on how to get to the train stop where I would be waiting.
I found her right where I told her to be (she's such a good listener...unlike Allie and I who were great up to a certain point and then we were clueless)
We then dropped off her stuff and went for a little stroll around my neighborhood, got some food and had a teensy little picnic in the park near my house.
From there we hung out some more, met Francois at the l'arc de triomphe and walked to the Eiffel tower, got ready and went out with Katherine to Concoran's which is in Irish pub/bar. I am so proud of Aileen she stayed out the entire first night combatting jet lag.
Sunday we went to WOS for Sunday funday and football and hung around.
Monday we walked around; went to the Sacre coeur and then I had to babysit Monday night so she went with Katherine, Siobhan and their friends to trivia night...again at WOS.
Poor Aileen, she was here for a week and I think we must have gone to WOS like 4 times.
Here is a list of things we did because it's growing increasingly harder to remember what day/order we did them in:
-Trivia at WOS
-Out in mouffetarde
-Sacre coeur
-Eiffel tower
-Louvre
-L'orangerie
-Lunch in Tuileries
-Out with a group of rowdy scotts
-Hung out with Katherine and Blair in their cool hotel room
-Skipped down the street dancing to call me maybe
-Notre Dame
-Shopped
-Drank wine
-Drank coffee
-Ate so much cheese
-Versailles for like 20 minutes
-Tried to teach swedes (my 'i made more friends' story) to play the game 'presidents' without success
-Tried to play 'baseball' with swedes without success
-Tried to learn Swedish...without success
-Beat swedes in flip cup, despite my apparent anxiety
-Learned a Swedish drinking game that was unreal fun although complicated at first
-l'arc de triomphe
-ate at le depart st Michel (which is always/never a good idea) at 5am
She brought me the best 'hey girl' book of my lifetime, American gum and reese's peanut butter cups. I was the happiest clam. By the end of the week I was so exhausted from all the cool and fun things we did that I thought I may die.
But I didn't die. In fact, I started school.
She flew in on a Saturday morning, I gave her explicit instructions on how to get to the train stop where I would be waiting.
I found her right where I told her to be (she's such a good listener...unlike Allie and I who were great up to a certain point and then we were clueless)
We then dropped off her stuff and went for a little stroll around my neighborhood, got some food and had a teensy little picnic in the park near my house.
From there we hung out some more, met Francois at the l'arc de triomphe and walked to the Eiffel tower, got ready and went out with Katherine to Concoran's which is in Irish pub/bar. I am so proud of Aileen she stayed out the entire first night combatting jet lag.
Sunday we went to WOS for Sunday funday and football and hung around.
Monday we walked around; went to the Sacre coeur and then I had to babysit Monday night so she went with Katherine, Siobhan and their friends to trivia night...again at WOS.
Poor Aileen, she was here for a week and I think we must have gone to WOS like 4 times.
Here is a list of things we did because it's growing increasingly harder to remember what day/order we did them in:
-Trivia at WOS
-Out in mouffetarde
-Sacre coeur
-Eiffel tower
-Louvre
-L'orangerie
-Lunch in Tuileries
-Out with a group of rowdy scotts
-Hung out with Katherine and Blair in their cool hotel room
-Skipped down the street dancing to call me maybe
-Notre Dame
-Shopped
-Drank wine
-Drank coffee
-Ate so much cheese
-Versailles for like 20 minutes
-Tried to teach swedes (my 'i made more friends' story) to play the game 'presidents' without success
-Tried to play 'baseball' with swedes without success
-Tried to learn Swedish...without success
-Beat swedes in flip cup, despite my apparent anxiety
-Learned a Swedish drinking game that was unreal fun although complicated at first
-l'arc de triomphe
-ate at le depart st Michel (which is always/never a good idea) at 5am
She brought me the best 'hey girl' book of my lifetime, American gum and reese's peanut butter cups. I was the happiest clam. By the end of the week I was so exhausted from all the cool and fun things we did that I thought I may die.
But I didn't die. In fact, I started school.
Tuesday, October 9, 2012
The worst cab ride ever- besides the one where I lost my iPhone
So, in Paris, the metro closes around 1 on weeknights and around 1:40 on weekends. It does not open again until 5:30 am. This is annoying. There is a night bus available but bus routes are so complicated even in the day time that I can never figure them out, let alone the night bus that only runs every 45 minutes or so.
Sometimes it happens that you miss the last metro, walking by yourself is just not an option and you are forced to take a taxi. Usually it is avoidable but once every 2 weeks or so, I find myself hailing a cab. A good driver gets me to my street from the center of Paris for 11 euro, I tip them a few euro and am on my way; no harm, no foul. Sometimes they take a little longer or there is a little more traffic and the cab ride is about 13, it all just depends.
This one particular evening, it's late and raining and I find myself having missed the metro. So I walk to a conveniently placed taxi stand just next to the metro and there is a line of taxi's waiting. I walk up to the first taxi and approach the drivers window. (In Paris, taxi drivers usually like you to tell them where you are going before you get into their cab so they can refuse you flat out if it's too far or they just don't want to drive you. Once I was lost, hailed a cab and was refused based on the fact that the restaurant I was trying to go was just on the opposite street corner. Hello directional impairment)
I stand patiently by the window where the man takes no notice of me. He has his fedora almost covering his eyes, which I believe are closed. I awkwardly stand by the window and pace hoping he will sense the movement and wake up. No such luck. I have to knock on his window to wake him up. (In Paris you do NOT cut the taxi line or skip a taxi. You are obligated to take the first in line. He has apparently earned your money and personal preference has no say in the matter. I would have just as soon let him sleep.)
I knock on his window and he jolts awake and motions me to get inside. I open the door and give him my address and add that it is near parc monceau, a very well known park that is legitimately 100 yards from my door.
He assures me he knows exactly where he is going. I trust him because he is a cab driver.
We start driving and after 5-10 minutes I realize something is not right. The meter is already at 10 euro (he was even charging me the inner city rate...which sometimes cab drivers try to fudge if they think you're a tourist with no clue what you're doing) and we are nowhere near my apartment. I ask him if he is sure he knows where we're going. He says yes and that we are almost there.
I am silent for only about 1.50 more euro and then I tell him that it does not normally take this long. He sighs and pulls over. Finally he hands me a map of Paris and opens it to a page with a list of all of the streets in the city and their coordinating cross streets and start and stop streets. He tells me to find my street and read the list to him.
I find my street and do as I'm told. He then asks me to find one of the cross streets on the list and read the corresponding streets for that road. I do this and he tells me he knows we're we are going and we drive on again.
After a minute or two, I know he has no clue where we are going and this cab ride is turning into one of the most expensive of my life. I still have the map so I find the street map of my arrondissement and I point to my street. This one! Here! Next to the huge green spot in the middle of the paper!!
I'm getting visibly frustrated until I see a sign pointing in the direction behind us that says "parc monceau" and
I point this out to him. Right there, sir. That sign clearly says park monceau. He says, what sign? I gesture, I describe, I yell a little bit, and he still doesn't know what I'm talking out. I'm on the verge of getting out of the taxi cab and physically shaking the sign in his face when it hits me.
This man cannot read. That is why he handed me the map when we pulled over and why he asked me to read it. That is why he has no idea what 'sign' I'm talking about. I look at the meter and it's hitting 22 euro. I am so frustrated because either this man can't read or he is swindling me out of money because he can tell I'm foreign.
I start sobbing. I only have 30 euro on me. I cannot afford this cab ride. I don't know how to tell him to take me home, and I'm exhausted. I'm crying in his back seat like a high school girl who didn't make the cheer-leading team. He is staring at me like I'm a mutant.
Sure, I'm in a cab with a driver who can't read, sobbing and I'm the weird one. He asks what's wrong and I tell him that I can't afford the cab, I'm tired, and I really need to go home and just to twist the knife a little, I tell him that I'm super homesick and I miss my friends and family. He apologizes profusely and turns the meter off.
In about 10 minutes we find my apartment, during which time he tells me how homesick he is for his home country of "jibberish I couldn't understand" and I get out. While I should have refused to pay at all for a cab ride that normally costs me 15 euro including tip, I am so tired and now I feel bad because this guy is homesick too, so I gave him a 20 euro and got out of the cab.
On another note, I absolutely plan on getting a bike pass so that I never have to deal with cabs again.
Sometimes it happens that you miss the last metro, walking by yourself is just not an option and you are forced to take a taxi. Usually it is avoidable but once every 2 weeks or so, I find myself hailing a cab. A good driver gets me to my street from the center of Paris for 11 euro, I tip them a few euro and am on my way; no harm, no foul. Sometimes they take a little longer or there is a little more traffic and the cab ride is about 13, it all just depends.
This one particular evening, it's late and raining and I find myself having missed the metro. So I walk to a conveniently placed taxi stand just next to the metro and there is a line of taxi's waiting. I walk up to the first taxi and approach the drivers window. (In Paris, taxi drivers usually like you to tell them where you are going before you get into their cab so they can refuse you flat out if it's too far or they just don't want to drive you. Once I was lost, hailed a cab and was refused based on the fact that the restaurant I was trying to go was just on the opposite street corner. Hello directional impairment)
I stand patiently by the window where the man takes no notice of me. He has his fedora almost covering his eyes, which I believe are closed. I awkwardly stand by the window and pace hoping he will sense the movement and wake up. No such luck. I have to knock on his window to wake him up. (In Paris you do NOT cut the taxi line or skip a taxi. You are obligated to take the first in line. He has apparently earned your money and personal preference has no say in the matter. I would have just as soon let him sleep.)
I knock on his window and he jolts awake and motions me to get inside. I open the door and give him my address and add that it is near parc monceau, a very well known park that is legitimately 100 yards from my door.
He assures me he knows exactly where he is going. I trust him because he is a cab driver.
We start driving and after 5-10 minutes I realize something is not right. The meter is already at 10 euro (he was even charging me the inner city rate...which sometimes cab drivers try to fudge if they think you're a tourist with no clue what you're doing) and we are nowhere near my apartment. I ask him if he is sure he knows where we're going. He says yes and that we are almost there.
I am silent for only about 1.50 more euro and then I tell him that it does not normally take this long. He sighs and pulls over. Finally he hands me a map of Paris and opens it to a page with a list of all of the streets in the city and their coordinating cross streets and start and stop streets. He tells me to find my street and read the list to him.
I find my street and do as I'm told. He then asks me to find one of the cross streets on the list and read the corresponding streets for that road. I do this and he tells me he knows we're we are going and we drive on again.
After a minute or two, I know he has no clue where we are going and this cab ride is turning into one of the most expensive of my life. I still have the map so I find the street map of my arrondissement and I point to my street. This one! Here! Next to the huge green spot in the middle of the paper!!
I'm getting visibly frustrated until I see a sign pointing in the direction behind us that says "parc monceau" and
I point this out to him. Right there, sir. That sign clearly says park monceau. He says, what sign? I gesture, I describe, I yell a little bit, and he still doesn't know what I'm talking out. I'm on the verge of getting out of the taxi cab and physically shaking the sign in his face when it hits me.
This man cannot read. That is why he handed me the map when we pulled over and why he asked me to read it. That is why he has no idea what 'sign' I'm talking about. I look at the meter and it's hitting 22 euro. I am so frustrated because either this man can't read or he is swindling me out of money because he can tell I'm foreign.
I start sobbing. I only have 30 euro on me. I cannot afford this cab ride. I don't know how to tell him to take me home, and I'm exhausted. I'm crying in his back seat like a high school girl who didn't make the cheer-leading team. He is staring at me like I'm a mutant.
Sure, I'm in a cab with a driver who can't read, sobbing and I'm the weird one. He asks what's wrong and I tell him that I can't afford the cab, I'm tired, and I really need to go home and just to twist the knife a little, I tell him that I'm super homesick and I miss my friends and family. He apologizes profusely and turns the meter off.
In about 10 minutes we find my apartment, during which time he tells me how homesick he is for his home country of "jibberish I couldn't understand" and I get out. While I should have refused to pay at all for a cab ride that normally costs me 15 euro including tip, I am so tired and now I feel bad because this guy is homesick too, so I gave him a 20 euro and got out of the cab.
On another note, I absolutely plan on getting a bike pass so that I never have to deal with cabs again.
Monday, October 8, 2012
Life Updates
Holy 2,000+ blog views, Batman! Thank you, guys! I'm seriously so flattered that my blog has had over 2,000 views from my friends and family (probably mostly from my mom and dad) and I hereby vow to do a better job with blogging. More funny stories as they happen, more pictures (hopefully) and more updating. I tend to get really bogged down and then I forget all the things I wanted to write about and then I end up posting one huge blog entry that no one wants to read all the way through, I'm sure.
Let's throw a quick little update on my life right now since the summer ended:
-The kids went back to school,
-B turned 8 years old, A turned 5 years old, L is turning 14 next week
-The kids hate my rain boots. I do not care.
-I saw the king tut exhibit that I've been dying to see since it was at the Children's Museum and I missed it
-The new Au Pairs arrived
-I made a friend, Katherine.
-Katherine and I learn to "guard our hearts"
-Finally got my french credit card from the bank, promptly overdrew
-Aileen came to visit
-I got into a cab with possibly the worlds only cab driver who can't read/didn't have a GPS and had no idea where he was going - story to follow
-Expats can be ultra condescending
-School started for myself
-I made some more friends!
-Siobhan came back so I have another friend
-I went to nuit blanche
-I bought myself a stove top
-subsequently after buying the stove top, I learned what it means to be poor
-Host mom switched to whole grain baguettes instead of normal baguettes and I am a little bitter about it because they ARE NOT AS DELICIOUS, obviously. Why are they even a thing?
-the COLTS beat the PACKERS - yes please.
-B said the cutest thing in the world to me.
Where to start:
The kids going back to school.
So H has officially moved to 'college' which is like our middle school. She attends the same school as L and I honestly believe that over-night she sprouted the most riDONKulous attitude I have ever encountered. Seriously. The other night at dinner she got yelled at by her dad so she refused to eat; B needed a spoon so host dad said, oh take H's she isn't using it. She yanked it off the table and clutched it to herself crying. I remember being 11. It's not fun. I get her. The point is, now that she goes to college, I don't have to walk her to school anymore so it's just me and the boys. Things seem to be easier with just 2 boys instead of 2 boys and a girl which is confusing to me. A is still in 'ecole maternelle' which is basically pre-school although he is in his last year (I think) and B is still at his normal elementary school. I drop them off, I pick them up. Normal.
King Tut:
Why am I such a loser? I was so excited to see this exhibit that it was unreal. I woke up 2 hours early, I tried to buy tickets in advance but couldn't figure it out because the website was in complicated French and my French friend Francois was like, no, don't do that, it's stupid. Just buy them there. No one buys them in advance except tourists. (eye roll. Francois did not understand how excited I was to see King Tut). I got there and I could have spent all day looking at the exhibit. I geeked really hard... I made a nice elderly British lady friend who could not understand what the door guys were saying, she heard me speaking English and asked if I would help her. It was all around just delightful.
The New Au Pairs Got Here/ I Made My First Friend:
As you all know, I have been basically alone since August because all my friends left and I was too awkward and afraid to go out to try to meet people. (plus at some points I was casually traveling, sleeping and/or watching project free tv.) So when I found out the new Au Pairs were coming, I flipped out. Each Friday, our agency had a meeting for the new arrival girls to come, meet each other, go through paperwork and all that jazz. I show up to the cafe and I don't see anyone there, except for a couple girls standing around outside so I just awkwardly stand there as well. Finally, I just decide to walk up to one and I ask if she is waiting for the Au Pair Paris meeting. She was, we chat for a bit, and then realize that people are inside the cafe sitting down and we have just been standing outside for like 10 minutes. She has an A (same name actually) as well, who is 4 so we bond over the ridiculous things our 4 year old A's ask us to do. We go inside and I am introduced to the group as 'the girl who has been here for 4 months so if you have questions.....' Insert every question in the planet being thrown at me. I am now terrified that I look like a know-it-all, obnoxious, show-offy brat. I decide that no one in this round of new girls is going to like me because of that. I have a minor panic attack when we leave and people are all saying 'ohhh yeah! I'll email you details, blah blah' wait.... I don't have anyone's email... did an email list go out without my receipt of it? Is everyone already facebook friends without me knowing? Do they read my blog and make fun of it? Do they already have a voodoo doll of me that they poke with pins? Did I say something stupid that they are going to mock later? ahhhhhhhhhh
Thankfully, the agency sent out an email later in the day with everyone's contact info, Katherine and I got in touch and went out that Saturday and luckily got along so well. We've decided we have to stick together because making friends does not seem to be our forte. Here is a link to her blog if you're interested; it's better than mine though, so if you do read hers, you have to pinky swear to keep reading mine or I'll be jealous. http://eauxpair.blogspot.fr/
Guarding Our Hearts:
This is my favorite story ever; even if it makes me seem a little mean. The second "Au Pair Paris" meeting went well, we met some other new girls and one of the girls from last year came to it as well. I guess she is staying in Paris for a second year because she loved her first year so much- good sign for things to come. A group of maybe 8 of us go to get lunch. We sit down in the Tuileries and this girl immediately starts lecturing us about life in Paris. Not in a super condescending way at first, but then almost out of nowhere she goes on a rant about French men. "Infidelity is really, really common here so you all need to watch your backs." "French men fall in love fast and out of love faster." "I just don't want any of you to get hurt. This isn't like dating back home." "Ladies... just please... guard your hearts." She must have repeated "guard your hearts" at least 3 times during her speech. Bless her heart; I know that some guy must have hurt her really badly and I'm sure she wanted to genuinely warn us about the French culture and French men and that niceness cannot be overrated, but it got a little ridiculous. Katherine and I constantly text each other to remind each other to 'guard our hearts.' Best intentions I'm sure. I realize my hypocrisy in giggling about something that someone said to help me while I was terrified people were doing that about me at the first meeting. I rectify that by telling myself that my answers to questions were things like, "your French will be better in 3 months" "you can buy shampoo at the Monoprix or any other grocery type store" and "no I haven't eaten at Quick (the french 'McDonalds') yet" and never anything like that. Upon typing this, I resolve to be a better person.
PS: I lost my voice this weekend due in most part, to what I believe to be my very first French cold. (host dad's remedy: oh you need to wear a scarf, that will keep your neck warm.) That being said, while I lay in bed this week, I plan to do my best to finish blogging the 'bloggable' things from the above list. That is... when I'm not obsessively watching Downton Abbey.
PPS: If you haven't watched Downton Abbey, I highly recommend it.
PPPS: It has been raining for 20 hours straight. I am cold.
Let's throw a quick little update on my life right now since the summer ended:
-The kids went back to school,
-B turned 8 years old, A turned 5 years old, L is turning 14 next week
-The kids hate my rain boots. I do not care.
-I saw the king tut exhibit that I've been dying to see since it was at the Children's Museum and I missed it
-The new Au Pairs arrived
-I made a friend, Katherine.
-Katherine and I learn to "guard our hearts"
-Finally got my french credit card from the bank, promptly overdrew
-Aileen came to visit
-I got into a cab with possibly the worlds only cab driver who can't read/didn't have a GPS and had no idea where he was going - story to follow
-Expats can be ultra condescending
-School started for myself
-I made some more friends!
-Siobhan came back so I have another friend
-I went to nuit blanche
-I bought myself a stove top
-subsequently after buying the stove top, I learned what it means to be poor
-Host mom switched to whole grain baguettes instead of normal baguettes and I am a little bitter about it because they ARE NOT AS DELICIOUS, obviously. Why are they even a thing?
-the COLTS beat the PACKERS - yes please.
-B said the cutest thing in the world to me.
Where to start:
The kids going back to school.
So H has officially moved to 'college' which is like our middle school. She attends the same school as L and I honestly believe that over-night she sprouted the most riDONKulous attitude I have ever encountered. Seriously. The other night at dinner she got yelled at by her dad so she refused to eat; B needed a spoon so host dad said, oh take H's she isn't using it. She yanked it off the table and clutched it to herself crying. I remember being 11. It's not fun. I get her. The point is, now that she goes to college, I don't have to walk her to school anymore so it's just me and the boys. Things seem to be easier with just 2 boys instead of 2 boys and a girl which is confusing to me. A is still in 'ecole maternelle' which is basically pre-school although he is in his last year (I think) and B is still at his normal elementary school. I drop them off, I pick them up. Normal.
King Tut:
Why am I such a loser? I was so excited to see this exhibit that it was unreal. I woke up 2 hours early, I tried to buy tickets in advance but couldn't figure it out because the website was in complicated French and my French friend Francois was like, no, don't do that, it's stupid. Just buy them there. No one buys them in advance except tourists. (eye roll. Francois did not understand how excited I was to see King Tut). I got there and I could have spent all day looking at the exhibit. I geeked really hard... I made a nice elderly British lady friend who could not understand what the door guys were saying, she heard me speaking English and asked if I would help her. It was all around just delightful.
The New Au Pairs Got Here/ I Made My First Friend:
As you all know, I have been basically alone since August because all my friends left and I was too awkward and afraid to go out to try to meet people. (plus at some points I was casually traveling, sleeping and/or watching project free tv.) So when I found out the new Au Pairs were coming, I flipped out. Each Friday, our agency had a meeting for the new arrival girls to come, meet each other, go through paperwork and all that jazz. I show up to the cafe and I don't see anyone there, except for a couple girls standing around outside so I just awkwardly stand there as well. Finally, I just decide to walk up to one and I ask if she is waiting for the Au Pair Paris meeting. She was, we chat for a bit, and then realize that people are inside the cafe sitting down and we have just been standing outside for like 10 minutes. She has an A (same name actually) as well, who is 4 so we bond over the ridiculous things our 4 year old A's ask us to do. We go inside and I am introduced to the group as 'the girl who has been here for 4 months so if you have questions.....' Insert every question in the planet being thrown at me. I am now terrified that I look like a know-it-all, obnoxious, show-offy brat. I decide that no one in this round of new girls is going to like me because of that. I have a minor panic attack when we leave and people are all saying 'ohhh yeah! I'll email you details, blah blah' wait.... I don't have anyone's email... did an email list go out without my receipt of it? Is everyone already facebook friends without me knowing? Do they read my blog and make fun of it? Do they already have a voodoo doll of me that they poke with pins? Did I say something stupid that they are going to mock later? ahhhhhhhhhh
Thankfully, the agency sent out an email later in the day with everyone's contact info, Katherine and I got in touch and went out that Saturday and luckily got along so well. We've decided we have to stick together because making friends does not seem to be our forte. Here is a link to her blog if you're interested; it's better than mine though, so if you do read hers, you have to pinky swear to keep reading mine or I'll be jealous. http://eauxpair.blogspot.fr/
Guarding Our Hearts:
This is my favorite story ever; even if it makes me seem a little mean. The second "Au Pair Paris" meeting went well, we met some other new girls and one of the girls from last year came to it as well. I guess she is staying in Paris for a second year because she loved her first year so much- good sign for things to come. A group of maybe 8 of us go to get lunch. We sit down in the Tuileries and this girl immediately starts lecturing us about life in Paris. Not in a super condescending way at first, but then almost out of nowhere she goes on a rant about French men. "Infidelity is really, really common here so you all need to watch your backs." "French men fall in love fast and out of love faster." "I just don't want any of you to get hurt. This isn't like dating back home." "Ladies... just please... guard your hearts." She must have repeated "guard your hearts" at least 3 times during her speech. Bless her heart; I know that some guy must have hurt her really badly and I'm sure she wanted to genuinely warn us about the French culture and French men and that niceness cannot be overrated, but it got a little ridiculous. Katherine and I constantly text each other to remind each other to 'guard our hearts.' Best intentions I'm sure. I realize my hypocrisy in giggling about something that someone said to help me while I was terrified people were doing that about me at the first meeting. I rectify that by telling myself that my answers to questions were things like, "your French will be better in 3 months" "you can buy shampoo at the Monoprix or any other grocery type store" and "no I haven't eaten at Quick (the french 'McDonalds') yet" and never anything like that. Upon typing this, I resolve to be a better person.
PS: I lost my voice this weekend due in most part, to what I believe to be my very first French cold. (host dad's remedy: oh you need to wear a scarf, that will keep your neck warm.) That being said, while I lay in bed this week, I plan to do my best to finish blogging the 'bloggable' things from the above list. That is... when I'm not obsessively watching Downton Abbey.
PPS: If you haven't watched Downton Abbey, I highly recommend it.
PPPS: It has been raining for 20 hours straight. I am cold.
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