bleu rhymes with dieu (probably spelled it wrong). It's like the difference between saying "Holy Cow" and "Holy Sweet Jesus!" or something worse, I don't know.
As you can infer from that slew of posts that lies beneath this one here, Robonator is online. Not in the way I'd like him to be (wireless), but in a way that'll do for now (...with a wire...that connects him to the router). From now on though, I'm going to try and post in French too, but I won't say anything in French without saying it in English too. Actually I can't make that promise. But Magdeleine wants me writing in French, and I figured I need to practice and all this English isn't helping me none.
Updates on the week: The kid who triggered the pop quiz in Physiques last week was late yesterday, and I guess coming in 20 minutes late after lunch was the last straw because he got expelled. The day before vacation. Not only that, but the very next class (he had to finish up the day) after the one he was late to was "Group de Partage" (je pense) which is like Transitions as far as I can figure. We sit in a circle and talk about things. Le sujet de cette classe pour cet jour etait "reussir" (it has an accent agu sur the e, but I'm not going to bother right now). Reussir is the verb that means "to succeed." The following hour of class was talking about what it means to succeed, the definition of success, what success means to you...
I know, harsh, right?
I participated a little. It's frustrating to not be able to express my ideas at all. Even in English I have troubles getting the point across, right now I haven't a hope to handle myself in a discussion in French. Euh, I guess that means I have to get better. That's my hope, to be able to properly participate in a discussion. I'm pretty sure I've already mentioned how I've been mistaken for a French person a couple times, but once I start talking I ruin it.
Vendredi Thomas went to his Grandma's so I made my way home by myself. And I did it, without hitch, without getting lost, panicking, anything. Perfect. Oh, have I told you the path home? I think I might need to remind you anyways: From the school - two block to the train station, the train for ten minutes, walk a block and sprint the second block to catch a bus, ride the bus for about ten minutes, get off, a block to the next bus stop where I catch a second bus, ride that for about 5 0r 10 minutes, then walk 2 blocks home. And it's not just like, "oh, here's a bus, let's get on," because Ile de France (the "state" I'm in) has Paris in it, it has it's own special mega public transportation system. Mega mega mega, there's buses and trains everywhere. But I did it, without hitch. Which, unfortunately, makes for a boring story.
Vacation! Next two weeks are off! I'm going to Paris and I'm going to buy things! And see cool things! And I might go skiing too, I don't know.
Vendredi there was no EPS (piscine - the swimming class) because...again, I don't really know. Thomas, Nicholas (not the cousin) et moi sommes allé à chez Nicholas, là nous avons fait nos devoirs de physiques et joué Unreal Tournament. Which I'm surprisingly good at, usually I'm terrible at those kind of games.
Ah, I want to be done typing...Do I have anything else to say? Trèsor is a cereal (this is for Matty) here in France, it's like coco puffs, but 2 - 3 times the size and filled with fudgie chocolate brownie stuff. It was good, but I had it only once, it's too much for me...
Okay, okay, I'm done now,
Taylor en France
Saturday, February 14, 2009
Les reves
Mercredi: 11 fevrier
J’ai eu 3 reves le nuit dernier, ou 3 reves je souven. 2 were of Mr. Pringle’s class. It was weird, because not a whole lot of special happened, Mr. P was just telling a story about when he was young. Except, the second physics dream, he was asking my about the voice acting I did for a spin-off of The Simpsons, which focused on Bart and his friends when they’re a little older (none of this is real, this is dream stuff). The last dream freaked me out though. I can’t remember, but it may have been in the physics room, too. Anyways, somehow or another I had managed to stick 3 or 4 needles through my first 2 fingers, because the dream began with my complaining about the needles. I reached to pull them out, but whenever my other hand came near, the needles wiggled and moved. I conclude that my hand was magnetized, or as I would yell later in the dream “magna-effing-tized.” So, I tried again but it hurt too much, so I went to someone else, I asked in some way for assistance in removing the numerous metal spines that pierced my fingers; however, when he moved his hand near, the needles yet again painfully twisted and writhed. This is the part where I ran around the class, adding extra profane syllables to otherwise harmless words and showing my needled fingers to everyone who dared to look. Oddly, there was no blood. Eventually, much like Arthur and Excalibur, I was forced to tough it out and wrench the things from their fleshy holding place. Due to the twist or my desperation, the first needle came out sideways, ripping my nail nearly in half - whoo, gotta take a breather here. If anyone knows how I’m like with damage to nails, you could understand the twitchiness and nausea that’s accompanying this recount. Why recount it, then? Maybe I’m a sadist. Anyways, it’s starts bleeding a little, and I realize I pulled it out wrong. Oops, back to swearing. At this point, someone much bigger then me grabbed my wrist and slid another one out. Trop beaucoup pour moi, as I figure, parce que j’ai reveillé.
Not actually sure if I finished this one or not, oh well,
Taylor en France
J’ai eu 3 reves le nuit dernier, ou 3 reves je souven. 2 were of Mr. Pringle’s class. It was weird, because not a whole lot of special happened, Mr. P was just telling a story about when he was young. Except, the second physics dream, he was asking my about the voice acting I did for a spin-off of The Simpsons, which focused on Bart and his friends when they’re a little older (none of this is real, this is dream stuff). The last dream freaked me out though. I can’t remember, but it may have been in the physics room, too. Anyways, somehow or another I had managed to stick 3 or 4 needles through my first 2 fingers, because the dream began with my complaining about the needles. I reached to pull them out, but whenever my other hand came near, the needles wiggled and moved. I conclude that my hand was magnetized, or as I would yell later in the dream “magna-effing-tized.” So, I tried again but it hurt too much, so I went to someone else, I asked in some way for assistance in removing the numerous metal spines that pierced my fingers; however, when he moved his hand near, the needles yet again painfully twisted and writhed. This is the part where I ran around the class, adding extra profane syllables to otherwise harmless words and showing my needled fingers to everyone who dared to look. Oddly, there was no blood. Eventually, much like Arthur and Excalibur, I was forced to tough it out and wrench the things from their fleshy holding place. Due to the twist or my desperation, the first needle came out sideways, ripping my nail nearly in half - whoo, gotta take a breather here. If anyone knows how I’m like with damage to nails, you could understand the twitchiness and nausea that’s accompanying this recount. Why recount it, then? Maybe I’m a sadist. Anyways, it’s starts bleeding a little, and I realize I pulled it out wrong. Oops, back to swearing. At this point, someone much bigger then me grabbed my wrist and slid another one out. Trop beaucoup pour moi, as I figure, parce que j’ai reveillé.
Not actually sure if I finished this one or not, oh well,
Taylor en France
I apologize for the unedited state these posts are in
Le week-end: 7 - 8 fevrier
The French cheat. They stole our word. “Weekend” en français est “le fin de la semaine.” Which kind of has a cool ring to it, so I don’t know why it got replaced with “weekend.” I guess weekend is easier to say. The letter K, however, isn’t terribly common in the French language, I’ve noticed, actually I noticed it year two of French class, but never had the go-juice to look into it further. I’m stalling.
Thomas had school Saturday morning, I didn’t. I’m not entirely sure why I don’t have to, but I don’t. I don’t really tend argue against the ability to sleep in and not to go to school, consequence-free. Thomas, Quentin et moi avons regardé le film Final Fantasy: Advent Children en français. C’est un très bon film (I’m pretty sure “bon/bonne” is one of the adjectives that gets to ride in front of the noun). In fact, it’s one of my favorites. One of my favorite works of art too, it’s just so nice to look at. We didn’t get to finish, we went to the market with Phillippe. It was disappointingly similar to Pike Place Market, and I hope I didn’t disappoint them by not being as overwhelmed. Sometimes I think they want to overwhelm me as much as possible, sometimes I think it’s just France. Either way, it’s kind of fun. Anyways, the market was fortunately covered, because it snowed for the third time since I’ve been here, however the snow doesn’t stick. It’s probably all the concrete and cars. There was an old man playing an accordion in the courtyard area by the market, so that was a nice Frenchy addition to the experience.
Scene missing.
I went to the mall with Phillippe and Magdeleine, to buy a present for Guillaume (the nephew of Magdeleine, who’s birthday party we were driving to that night. Fun fact: He lives in Vatan, which is said the same way as a phrase meaning “get out.” For the longest time I thought they were saying his name was Vatan, and I thought “why would anyone name their child a homophone of a phrase such as that?”). We went to the Virgin store. I’m not exactly sure what Virgin is. Is it just the company of some eccentric guy who wants to own the world? Or a group of people-savvy entrepreneurs? Aliens sent down to usher us into the future 1960s sci-fi movies painted for us? Whatever it is, and whatever their motives, I think it’s kind of cool (I typed “scary” the first time…). Anywho, the Virgin store has comic books, books, CDs, video games, electronics, movies, stuffed animals (yeah, I did a double-take too), and I’m sure plenty of other treasures. Well, we (I say “we,” but I didn’t buy anything) bought 3 comics (one of which a dirty one) and an underwater themed book (the ones filled with cool pictures that you never end up looking through the whole thing), then they bought some things for themselves, then we left. This was the shopping adventure that was supposed to also include the purchase of my maillot de bain, but I got to commence the awkward conversation of “je ne peux pas nager.” But, I can’t. I can’t swim, every time I do I have to be re-taught and that’s because I don’t like to swim, I just don’t. D’accord.
And then we drove. For two hours. That’s about an hour and 40 minutes longer than I was expecting, but I slept, so it’s all good. C’est tout bon. We got there about 20h00, I was still drowsy, and I was introduced to 20-30 French-speaking family members. Most of them were nice, but I did get a little bit of the “you need to speak slower for him” (tu as besoin parler plus lon pour lui) I even got from a kid probably a year or two younger than me “I don’t speak English” (je ne peux pas parler anglais) when I was trying to speak French. Okay, I’m no good, but I try. I’m pretty sure it was all in the best intentions, or at least good humor.
Dinner lasted several hours, and involved multiple leavings and returnings to the table, but it was pretty good. There was 7 teens (including me) present, some of which (not including me) were playing a computer game that they seemed very interested in that I wasn’t awake enough to want to be taught how to play. That sentence was very poorly structured. I didn’t really do much and was happy when they wanted to watch a movie (la Voyage á la Centre de la Terre), because then I could go sleep guiltlessly. Of course, I don’t think any sleep commencing around 1h30 should carry a burden of guilt.
Oh wow, that was a week ago, I really fell behind in these blogs pretty quickly. The time has flown by…
Moral of the story: too many French people talking at the same time hurt my head, the meals can take upwards of a couple hours, Twilight is equally popular here, and Magdeleine’s sister fixed the torn pocket on my jacket. So I ended it so abruptly, I…I actually have no excuse, I’m just lazy.
Lazy, lazy, lazy,
Taylor en France
The French cheat. They stole our word. “Weekend” en français est “le fin de la semaine.” Which kind of has a cool ring to it, so I don’t know why it got replaced with “weekend.” I guess weekend is easier to say. The letter K, however, isn’t terribly common in the French language, I’ve noticed, actually I noticed it year two of French class, but never had the go-juice to look into it further. I’m stalling.
Thomas had school Saturday morning, I didn’t. I’m not entirely sure why I don’t have to, but I don’t. I don’t really tend argue against the ability to sleep in and not to go to school, consequence-free. Thomas, Quentin et moi avons regardé le film Final Fantasy: Advent Children en français. C’est un très bon film (I’m pretty sure “bon/bonne” is one of the adjectives that gets to ride in front of the noun). In fact, it’s one of my favorites. One of my favorite works of art too, it’s just so nice to look at. We didn’t get to finish, we went to the market with Phillippe. It was disappointingly similar to Pike Place Market, and I hope I didn’t disappoint them by not being as overwhelmed. Sometimes I think they want to overwhelm me as much as possible, sometimes I think it’s just France. Either way, it’s kind of fun. Anyways, the market was fortunately covered, because it snowed for the third time since I’ve been here, however the snow doesn’t stick. It’s probably all the concrete and cars. There was an old man playing an accordion in the courtyard area by the market, so that was a nice Frenchy addition to the experience.
Scene missing.
I went to the mall with Phillippe and Magdeleine, to buy a present for Guillaume (the nephew of Magdeleine, who’s birthday party we were driving to that night. Fun fact: He lives in Vatan, which is said the same way as a phrase meaning “get out.” For the longest time I thought they were saying his name was Vatan, and I thought “why would anyone name their child a homophone of a phrase such as that?”). We went to the Virgin store. I’m not exactly sure what Virgin is. Is it just the company of some eccentric guy who wants to own the world? Or a group of people-savvy entrepreneurs? Aliens sent down to usher us into the future 1960s sci-fi movies painted for us? Whatever it is, and whatever their motives, I think it’s kind of cool (I typed “scary” the first time…). Anywho, the Virgin store has comic books, books, CDs, video games, electronics, movies, stuffed animals (yeah, I did a double-take too), and I’m sure plenty of other treasures. Well, we (I say “we,” but I didn’t buy anything) bought 3 comics (one of which a dirty one) and an underwater themed book (the ones filled with cool pictures that you never end up looking through the whole thing), then they bought some things for themselves, then we left. This was the shopping adventure that was supposed to also include the purchase of my maillot de bain, but I got to commence the awkward conversation of “je ne peux pas nager.” But, I can’t. I can’t swim, every time I do I have to be re-taught and that’s because I don’t like to swim, I just don’t. D’accord.
And then we drove. For two hours. That’s about an hour and 40 minutes longer than I was expecting, but I slept, so it’s all good. C’est tout bon. We got there about 20h00, I was still drowsy, and I was introduced to 20-30 French-speaking family members. Most of them were nice, but I did get a little bit of the “you need to speak slower for him” (tu as besoin parler plus lon pour lui) I even got from a kid probably a year or two younger than me “I don’t speak English” (je ne peux pas parler anglais) when I was trying to speak French. Okay, I’m no good, but I try. I’m pretty sure it was all in the best intentions, or at least good humor.
Dinner lasted several hours, and involved multiple leavings and returnings to the table, but it was pretty good. There was 7 teens (including me) present, some of which (not including me) were playing a computer game that they seemed very interested in that I wasn’t awake enough to want to be taught how to play. That sentence was very poorly structured. I didn’t really do much and was happy when they wanted to watch a movie (la Voyage á la Centre de la Terre), because then I could go sleep guiltlessly. Of course, I don’t think any sleep commencing around 1h30 should carry a burden of guilt.
Oh wow, that was a week ago, I really fell behind in these blogs pretty quickly. The time has flown by…
Moral of the story: too many French people talking at the same time hurt my head, the meals can take upwards of a couple hours, Twilight is equally popular here, and Magdeleine’s sister fixed the torn pocket on my jacket. So I ended it so abruptly, I…I actually have no excuse, I’m just lazy.
Lazy, lazy, lazy,
Taylor en France
I'm still sad the tables don't work...
Vendredi: 6 fevrier
So I fell a little behind in writing these, as it’s now Monday evening as I write Friday’s post. I won’t be so detailed in the future though I don’t think, so this shouldn’t prove to be a continuing problem.
Time Class Comments
8h30 - 9h30 Histoire - Geo Blur.
9h30 - 10h30 Espagnol Lv2 I like the music for their movies. Yeah, that’s about all I got out of that class.
10h30 - 13h00 EPS (Piscine) Piscine = pool. As in swimming class. Yeah, it’s like 2 hours of swimming. Fortunately for me, I don’t have a French swimsuit (the almost speedo) so I didn’t have to go. I stayed in the library, read stuff, did stuff online, chilled. Later, when my family set out to purchase my swimsuit so I wouldn’t have to sit out again, I had to explain, much to my displeasure, that I can’t swim. I don’t like swimming, and I just want it to be okay that I don’t like to swim. I guess most French kids don’t like the swimming class, but I’m not sure how they feel about it as a recreation.
13h00 - 14h00 Dejeuner! I don’t know, it was probably cordon bleu or steak (no, that was today). I don’t, it was something more delicious than one would ever expect at a school. Yet the students feel the same about school food as Americans do! What a laugh!
14h00 - 15h00 Mathematiques Vectors and stuff. Or vecteurs et stoof. (note: “stuff” in French is not “stoof.”)
15h00 - 16h00 Histoire des Religions I guess no one likes this class, I was told not to pay attention. In fact, most the class didn’t. About half the class was present at the beginning, and trickled in for the next half hour. (note: this is a school where everyone stands when the teacher walks in a waits to be told to sit. They really don’t like this class). Moral: I drew.
16h00 - 17h00 Physiques I think the teacher was still upset at us. I don’t really remember what happened. Vectors? No, that was math…
Was this the day I finally remembered to give my family their presents? I think it was. So, I got them a pretty cool coffee table book of Whatcom County, and tried to make it as interesting as possible. I made sure to look through it before I gave it to them, so they didn’t see my surprise at all the places I’d never seen featured in this book. Nextly, I got them a Marvel Encyclopedia: hardbound, super cool, because they’re into comics (as I’m sure that you read in the post about the family). Followingly, I got them candy. Delicious American candy. I did say it was my mom’s idea (it was your idea) and they thought it would be a funny idea to send back home the same candy but in French…Proceedingly, I got them peanut butter. They have peanut butter here. It’s not as common, sure, but they informed me France was in fact civilized…Accompanyingly, I made them a little photo book of me and my family and stuff; and since it was made the night before I left, of course it was missing a page because we couldn’t find a decent picture of the kitties in hard copy and Rite Aid was closed. Moreoveringly…okay, that’s all I got them, but I enjoy inventing transition words (that’s right, none of those words are real, but feel free to use them anyways, they’ll make you talk smartingly!) However, I did mention the supposed lack of mashed potatoes, which turned out to be a complete fabrication, and to prove it they bought delicious mashed potatoes that had been made and mixed with fish (the Cod kind) and we had that for dinner the next night.
Saturday and Sunday are going to have a mondo posting, I believe, so I’m going to stop writing now and save myself for that.
Frustrated that he can’t read French people’s handwriting,
Taylor en France
So I fell a little behind in writing these, as it’s now Monday evening as I write Friday’s post. I won’t be so detailed in the future though I don’t think, so this shouldn’t prove to be a continuing problem.
Time Class Comments
8h30 - 9h30 Histoire - Geo Blur.
9h30 - 10h30 Espagnol Lv2 I like the music for their movies. Yeah, that’s about all I got out of that class.
10h30 - 13h00 EPS (Piscine) Piscine = pool. As in swimming class. Yeah, it’s like 2 hours of swimming. Fortunately for me, I don’t have a French swimsuit (the almost speedo) so I didn’t have to go. I stayed in the library, read stuff, did stuff online, chilled. Later, when my family set out to purchase my swimsuit so I wouldn’t have to sit out again, I had to explain, much to my displeasure, that I can’t swim. I don’t like swimming, and I just want it to be okay that I don’t like to swim. I guess most French kids don’t like the swimming class, but I’m not sure how they feel about it as a recreation.
13h00 - 14h00 Dejeuner! I don’t know, it was probably cordon bleu or steak (no, that was today). I don’t, it was something more delicious than one would ever expect at a school. Yet the students feel the same about school food as Americans do! What a laugh!
14h00 - 15h00 Mathematiques Vectors and stuff. Or vecteurs et stoof. (note: “stuff” in French is not “stoof.”)
15h00 - 16h00 Histoire des Religions I guess no one likes this class, I was told not to pay attention. In fact, most the class didn’t. About half the class was present at the beginning, and trickled in for the next half hour. (note: this is a school where everyone stands when the teacher walks in a waits to be told to sit. They really don’t like this class). Moral: I drew.
16h00 - 17h00 Physiques I think the teacher was still upset at us. I don’t really remember what happened. Vectors? No, that was math…
Was this the day I finally remembered to give my family their presents? I think it was. So, I got them a pretty cool coffee table book of Whatcom County, and tried to make it as interesting as possible. I made sure to look through it before I gave it to them, so they didn’t see my surprise at all the places I’d never seen featured in this book. Nextly, I got them a Marvel Encyclopedia: hardbound, super cool, because they’re into comics (as I’m sure that you read in the post about the family). Followingly, I got them candy. Delicious American candy. I did say it was my mom’s idea (it was your idea) and they thought it would be a funny idea to send back home the same candy but in French…Proceedingly, I got them peanut butter. They have peanut butter here. It’s not as common, sure, but they informed me France was in fact civilized…Accompanyingly, I made them a little photo book of me and my family and stuff; and since it was made the night before I left, of course it was missing a page because we couldn’t find a decent picture of the kitties in hard copy and Rite Aid was closed. Moreoveringly…okay, that’s all I got them, but I enjoy inventing transition words (that’s right, none of those words are real, but feel free to use them anyways, they’ll make you talk smartingly!) However, I did mention the supposed lack of mashed potatoes, which turned out to be a complete fabrication, and to prove it they bought delicious mashed potatoes that had been made and mixed with fish (the Cod kind) and we had that for dinner the next night.
Saturday and Sunday are going to have a mondo posting, I believe, so I’m going to stop writing now and save myself for that.
Frustrated that he can’t read French people’s handwriting,
Taylor en France
I've gotten in a habit of not using apostrophes all the time, because they're on the complete opposite side of the keyboard in France
Jeudi: 5 fevrier
Today was certainly a day, that much I can say. I read a poem in French and was happy because even though I didn’t understand all of it, I was able to appreciate it. I once read a poem that was translated from German and it was terrible. Well, it wasn’t too bad, it just didn’t sound very good. Next to it, fortunately, was the German version and though I know only a handful of completely useless German words (I’m not saying that German as a language is useless, just that I have no idea how often I’ll need to talk about gloves, things being too bad, or me being the prophet, in a German-only area), I was able to sound it out as best I could and figure out that it did sound halfway decent (here, however, I am making a crack at the German language. I just think it’s not the most poetic). So, that was a giant, generally irrelevant anecdote to contextualize my original anecdote which, truth be told, happened two days ago anyway.
I drew a ninja today. Apparently the French think drawing is really cool. But I drew a ninja of my own creation and Thomas thought it was so cool, that he wanted me to draw Sasuke from Naruto (I forgot, have I told you about watching Naruto and South Park in French? Naruto isn’t as bad in French, I don’t think it’s only because he doesn’t say “Believe it!” However, I don’t believe the French voice actors for South Park have ever actually seen the show). So I shamefully drew fanart. I drew him in the most boring static pose, too. I’m not sure if that’s a good thing though. Then he was like “dessin Naruto! Et Sakura!” and, true to the words someone very wise (and so artistically inclined) once said - “Artists make lousy slaves” - I said no. Non. Jamais. Pas pour moi. (Maybe one, two people will get that last little part)
Mariah said that, by the way.
Time Class Comments
8h30 - 9h30 Anglais This class didn’t actually happen though. The teacher’s mother passed away the night before, so the teacher wasn’t there. Fun fact: interesting trivia can be found in the school newsletter, such as members of the staff’s family who died in the last few days.
9h30 - 10h30 Espagnol Lv2 Spaced off.
10h30 - 11h30 Physiques The teacher exploded at a student, then the entire class because the kid didn’t do his homework. So after yelling at him, lecturing the class, distributing an impromptu pop quiz (I believe he asked the questions off the top of his head), lecturing the class some more, he then went and talked to the principal. He was still mad the next day. Moral: I will never not do my homework.
11h30 - 13h00 Histoire - Geo I know something happened here…
13h00 - 14h00 Dejeuner! Food. Food happened.
14h00 - 16h00 Module Anglais, Module Math I’m not sure what the Module means, nor was I able to learn considering these classes didn’t happen either. There was an assembly type thing that, at the beginning of it was told that it was regarding the principal’s deceased father or something (as I vaguely recall from the obituary right above the advertisement for the religious club), but it turns out it was about the Sophomore/Junior equivalents having to plan what track they’re taking next year. Boyo, was I confused.
16h00 - 17h00
I think the rest of jeudi was the same as most my other days. I don’t know, it’s Sunday as I write this, and my attention span has been suffering. I guess things in French are harder to remember. Fun fact: occasionally I remember something that happened before I left in broken French, it’s bizarre and I don’t like it. Also, I had a dream in French. It was the family explaining stuff to me. It was one of those annoying dreams that for a while I can’t remember if it actually happened or not. Fortunately, I don’t remember what the dream people told me, so it’s all good (c’est tout bon).
Calling it good for tonight,
Taylor en France
Today was certainly a day, that much I can say. I read a poem in French and was happy because even though I didn’t understand all of it, I was able to appreciate it. I once read a poem that was translated from German and it was terrible. Well, it wasn’t too bad, it just didn’t sound very good. Next to it, fortunately, was the German version and though I know only a handful of completely useless German words (I’m not saying that German as a language is useless, just that I have no idea how often I’ll need to talk about gloves, things being too bad, or me being the prophet, in a German-only area), I was able to sound it out as best I could and figure out that it did sound halfway decent (here, however, I am making a crack at the German language. I just think it’s not the most poetic). So, that was a giant, generally irrelevant anecdote to contextualize my original anecdote which, truth be told, happened two days ago anyway.
I drew a ninja today. Apparently the French think drawing is really cool. But I drew a ninja of my own creation and Thomas thought it was so cool, that he wanted me to draw Sasuke from Naruto (I forgot, have I told you about watching Naruto and South Park in French? Naruto isn’t as bad in French, I don’t think it’s only because he doesn’t say “Believe it!” However, I don’t believe the French voice actors for South Park have ever actually seen the show). So I shamefully drew fanart. I drew him in the most boring static pose, too. I’m not sure if that’s a good thing though. Then he was like “dessin Naruto! Et Sakura!” and, true to the words someone very wise (and so artistically inclined) once said - “Artists make lousy slaves” - I said no. Non. Jamais. Pas pour moi. (Maybe one, two people will get that last little part)
Mariah said that, by the way.
Time Class Comments
8h30 - 9h30 Anglais This class didn’t actually happen though. The teacher’s mother passed away the night before, so the teacher wasn’t there. Fun fact: interesting trivia can be found in the school newsletter, such as members of the staff’s family who died in the last few days.
9h30 - 10h30 Espagnol Lv2 Spaced off.
10h30 - 11h30 Physiques The teacher exploded at a student, then the entire class because the kid didn’t do his homework. So after yelling at him, lecturing the class, distributing an impromptu pop quiz (I believe he asked the questions off the top of his head), lecturing the class some more, he then went and talked to the principal. He was still mad the next day. Moral: I will never not do my homework.
11h30 - 13h00 Histoire - Geo I know something happened here…
13h00 - 14h00 Dejeuner! Food. Food happened.
14h00 - 16h00 Module Anglais, Module Math I’m not sure what the Module means, nor was I able to learn considering these classes didn’t happen either. There was an assembly type thing that, at the beginning of it was told that it was regarding the principal’s deceased father or something (as I vaguely recall from the obituary right above the advertisement for the religious club), but it turns out it was about the Sophomore/Junior equivalents having to plan what track they’re taking next year. Boyo, was I confused.
16h00 - 17h00
I think the rest of jeudi was the same as most my other days. I don’t know, it’s Sunday as I write this, and my attention span has been suffering. I guess things in French are harder to remember. Fun fact: occasionally I remember something that happened before I left in broken French, it’s bizarre and I don’t like it. Also, I had a dream in French. It was the family explaining stuff to me. It was one of those annoying dreams that for a while I can’t remember if it actually happened or not. Fortunately, I don’t remember what the dream people told me, so it’s all good (c’est tout bon).
Calling it good for tonight,
Taylor en France
I'm aware fevrier has an accent, but my american keyboard doesn't facilitate that...
Mercredi: 4 fevrier
As of 3h00 I have officially been away from home for one week. I miss the other AFS students that I met, because I probably will never see most of them again. Actually that’s not true, because there’s the going away orientation. So, I will see the,. Okay, I don’t feel so bad anymore.
Thomas et moi bonded over internet flash games (Flash, as in the animation program). As it turns out though, I’m pretty good as Captain Falcon. And not too shabby with MetaKnight. Like two people are going to get those sentences, oh well. That was to David anyway (Gandleforf is on the out, switch him with Steve-O and I’ll be golden). I like that table idea for the schedule, it simplifies things and makes it look like I wrote more.
Time Class Comments
8h30 - 10h30 Devoir This is a time slot reserved for doing homework, but Thomas had another test so he went to school at 8h30, and I didn’t go until later. Actually this is a story in and of itself, so we’ll save that for later.
10h30 - 11h30 Histoire - Geo Geo is for géographie. Groups presented their projects today. The first group’s presentation was about the US, and I got to participate…by explaining to the class what a “doggy bag” was (yeah, whatever you don‘t eat in a restaurant in France gets thrown away, it‘s not tomorrow’s lunch), explaining the productivity of American agriculture, and providing a counterexample of the US’s weight problem.
11h30 - 13h30 Français Woo, talk about a class losing it’s novelty. Actually, that is what I’ll do. This class has totally lost all novelty and coolness because it was about theatre. Apparently none of the students like it. In fact, there was a class groan when the homework was assigned. I doodled. I could only copy a little of what was written and what was written was only a little of what was said. The reason for not being able to copy down what was written: the teacher’s illegible handwriting. Apparently everyone in France insists on writing in a stylized cursive, fitting for the language, but incredibly hard to read. Even for the French, considering a few students had to ask the teacher what she had written. Everyone except for Gregoire though, he sits next to me in Math and I can actually read his writing so he lets me copy his notes, also he lived in the US for a few years I guess, and his English is pretty good so he helps me understand things too.
Oh yeah, every Wednesday is a half day. It’s a double bonus that it started late for me too. Oh man, I have to tell that story now, don’t I? I’m proud, because I can tell this story in French. Well, kind of. It’s fractured broken French, but I ended up telling it enough times and got corrected enough times where I have it pretty good I think. Anyways, I’m going to tell it in english now. So, Phillippe drove Thomas to school in the morning, then Magdeleine drove Quentin et moi to our respective schools. I get to the school at about 9h30 but my first class doesn’t start until 10h30. So I’m like, “poop. What am I going to do now?” So I went to the library, but it was locked and closed and lights off, so I decided to just wait in the room. However the room is also locked and closed and lights off. So I whipped out my schedule (which is the same as Thomas’) and decided that I couldn’t just sit in the halls, so I’ll go find Thomas. Problem: My first class and the secteur I was in was D1. Thomas was in A5. I have never been in C secteur, let alone B ou A. So, being the responsible-minded individual I am, I decided to roam the halls in the area I could navigate about and ask someone for help instead of inevitably getting lost on one the four floors (I think it may be higher in some places. And I think the whole thing is shaped in a big square U). Eventually I found a group of teachers and I tried my best to ask simply where the class I was looking for was. Then they started with all sorts of fun questions: Why? Are you a student here? Yes, we figured you’re from the States. Who are you with? Why aren’t you in class? Tu aime l’omelette du frommage? Et cetera. They took my to the head principal guy, who called a guy, who took my to another guy, and that last guy was a guy that I knew from before. I think he’s the French equivalent to the Vice Principal or the Dean of Students. He’s like: Are you lost? Where are you going? I’ll help you find where you’re going. Let’s go to the library. And once we get to the library, he discovers with unsettling surprised that it is in fact locked and closed and lights off. He then recalls that, Oh yeah: the library is closed on Wednesday. Every Wednesday. And today is Wednesday. So he takes me to my class, and I wait there for the remaining half of my hour, somewhat relieved I didn’t have to spend the whole thing bored and sitting. Of course, I was also worried that I may have gotten Thomas in trouble, but I don’t think I did…
Well, Wednesday isn’t actually over yet, and I have to do my homework. For English, the class had to summarize Obama’s inauguration speech in English. Since that would be too easy for me, the teacher decided she’d help me learn my French by making summarize it in French. I haven’t done this yet. It’s due tomorrow (but was assigned yesterday). So I have to go do that now. Then I’ll probably eat around 21h00 - 22h00 again, which I don’t really mind considering I won’t be hungry until then. Realistically, I won’t even be hungry then, but at least it’s enough time to ward off an exploding stomach.
Yay, Thomas helped me! But he did too much, and I feel that I didn’t gain anything out of that experience. Well, maybe I gained not having to worry about that assignment, but now I’m worrying that the teacher will think my French is better than it really is.
For dinner I had pâté du lapin. Which is pretty much blended rabbit. Rabbit sausage stuff. I kept thinking about Hazel and Fiver, Thumper, Bugs and Babs, thinking about how wrong it was for me to feasting on such a substance that was once a hoppy little bunny. The absolute worst part is that it tasted good…
I suppose sitting here, waiting for the bathroom to open so I can go to bed provides a good opportunity for me to write. Oh, I went to the supermarché avec Phillippe aujourd-hui. Actually, I come to find out, it was a hypermarché, because it’s bigger than a certain number of square meters. Man, I need to get a better memory.
I’ve packed my love in special wrappings of hugs and sent them out to all of you! (It’s a metaphor, as in you’re not getting real mail).
Taylor en France
As of 3h00 I have officially been away from home for one week. I miss the other AFS students that I met, because I probably will never see most of them again. Actually that’s not true, because there’s the going away orientation. So, I will see the,. Okay, I don’t feel so bad anymore.
Thomas et moi bonded over internet flash games (Flash, as in the animation program). As it turns out though, I’m pretty good as Captain Falcon. And not too shabby with MetaKnight. Like two people are going to get those sentences, oh well. That was to David anyway (Gandleforf is on the out, switch him with Steve-O and I’ll be golden). I like that table idea for the schedule, it simplifies things and makes it look like I wrote more.
Time Class Comments
8h30 - 10h30 Devoir This is a time slot reserved for doing homework, but Thomas had another test so he went to school at 8h30, and I didn’t go until later. Actually this is a story in and of itself, so we’ll save that for later.
10h30 - 11h30 Histoire - Geo Geo is for géographie. Groups presented their projects today. The first group’s presentation was about the US, and I got to participate…by explaining to the class what a “doggy bag” was (yeah, whatever you don‘t eat in a restaurant in France gets thrown away, it‘s not tomorrow’s lunch), explaining the productivity of American agriculture, and providing a counterexample of the US’s weight problem.
11h30 - 13h30 Français Woo, talk about a class losing it’s novelty. Actually, that is what I’ll do. This class has totally lost all novelty and coolness because it was about theatre. Apparently none of the students like it. In fact, there was a class groan when the homework was assigned. I doodled. I could only copy a little of what was written and what was written was only a little of what was said. The reason for not being able to copy down what was written: the teacher’s illegible handwriting. Apparently everyone in France insists on writing in a stylized cursive, fitting for the language, but incredibly hard to read. Even for the French, considering a few students had to ask the teacher what she had written. Everyone except for Gregoire though, he sits next to me in Math and I can actually read his writing so he lets me copy his notes, also he lived in the US for a few years I guess, and his English is pretty good so he helps me understand things too.
Oh yeah, every Wednesday is a half day. It’s a double bonus that it started late for me too. Oh man, I have to tell that story now, don’t I? I’m proud, because I can tell this story in French. Well, kind of. It’s fractured broken French, but I ended up telling it enough times and got corrected enough times where I have it pretty good I think. Anyways, I’m going to tell it in english now. So, Phillippe drove Thomas to school in the morning, then Magdeleine drove Quentin et moi to our respective schools. I get to the school at about 9h30 but my first class doesn’t start until 10h30. So I’m like, “poop. What am I going to do now?” So I went to the library, but it was locked and closed and lights off, so I decided to just wait in the room. However the room is also locked and closed and lights off. So I whipped out my schedule (which is the same as Thomas’) and decided that I couldn’t just sit in the halls, so I’ll go find Thomas. Problem: My first class and the secteur I was in was D1. Thomas was in A5. I have never been in C secteur, let alone B ou A. So, being the responsible-minded individual I am, I decided to roam the halls in the area I could navigate about and ask someone for help instead of inevitably getting lost on one the four floors (I think it may be higher in some places. And I think the whole thing is shaped in a big square U). Eventually I found a group of teachers and I tried my best to ask simply where the class I was looking for was. Then they started with all sorts of fun questions: Why? Are you a student here? Yes, we figured you’re from the States. Who are you with? Why aren’t you in class? Tu aime l’omelette du frommage? Et cetera. They took my to the head principal guy, who called a guy, who took my to another guy, and that last guy was a guy that I knew from before. I think he’s the French equivalent to the Vice Principal or the Dean of Students. He’s like: Are you lost? Where are you going? I’ll help you find where you’re going. Let’s go to the library. And once we get to the library, he discovers with unsettling surprised that it is in fact locked and closed and lights off. He then recalls that, Oh yeah: the library is closed on Wednesday. Every Wednesday. And today is Wednesday. So he takes me to my class, and I wait there for the remaining half of my hour, somewhat relieved I didn’t have to spend the whole thing bored and sitting. Of course, I was also worried that I may have gotten Thomas in trouble, but I don’t think I did…
Well, Wednesday isn’t actually over yet, and I have to do my homework. For English, the class had to summarize Obama’s inauguration speech in English. Since that would be too easy for me, the teacher decided she’d help me learn my French by making summarize it in French. I haven’t done this yet. It’s due tomorrow (but was assigned yesterday). So I have to go do that now. Then I’ll probably eat around 21h00 - 22h00 again, which I don’t really mind considering I won’t be hungry until then. Realistically, I won’t even be hungry then, but at least it’s enough time to ward off an exploding stomach.
Yay, Thomas helped me! But he did too much, and I feel that I didn’t gain anything out of that experience. Well, maybe I gained not having to worry about that assignment, but now I’m worrying that the teacher will think my French is better than it really is.
For dinner I had pâté du lapin. Which is pretty much blended rabbit. Rabbit sausage stuff. I kept thinking about Hazel and Fiver, Thumper, Bugs and Babs, thinking about how wrong it was for me to feasting on such a substance that was once a hoppy little bunny. The absolute worst part is that it tasted good…
I suppose sitting here, waiting for the bathroom to open so I can go to bed provides a good opportunity for me to write. Oh, I went to the supermarché avec Phillippe aujourd-hui. Actually, I come to find out, it was a hypermarché, because it’s bigger than a certain number of square meters. Man, I need to get a better memory.
I’ve packed my love in special wrappings of hugs and sent them out to all of you! (It’s a metaphor, as in you’re not getting real mail).
Taylor en France
So, the table didn't copy/paste
Mardi: 3 fevrier
Before I forget: les pantoufle. I have no idea how to spell it, but that’s generally the word for the slippers we have to wear in the house. C’est bizarre. Also: the bathroom, which is always warm, has a pretty sizeable tub, with a shower head like apparatus of significant length, but it’s not a shower nor doesn’t it at all facilitate cleaning oneself in a standing position. I haven’t taken a bath since I was very little and honestly I don’t know how. Oddly enough, it takes me about the same amount of time (I don’t’ wait for it to fill all the way). But the second bathroom is under construction right now and should be done in about a month. I’m not sure if it will have a standing shower, but it’ll be nice to be able to go to the bathroom at night or in the morning when I’m about ready to stain my shorts and other people are in the bathroom for 30 minutes to an hour. I’m a generally patient person, but when it comes to bowel movements I can get a little anxious. Moving on, school: ooh, let’s make a table!
Time Class Comments
9h30 - 10h30 Anglais The teacher made me read Obama’s inauguration speech to the class (in English). I was later informed that the teacher was giddy, because she like Obama so much (oh yeah, we didn’t have a first class today, I don’t know why not)
10h30 - 13h00 Education Civique, Economiques, et Module Français I have little to no memory of this class happening (it’s Wednesday 17h40 as I write this, so that could be why). I don’t think I particularly enjoyed it though. Wow, that’s really strange…
13h00 - 14h00 Dejeuner! (Chicken in this sauce stuff on…noodles? Maybe? And a crepe, and cucumbers in crème sauce, and yogurt, and bread) J’ai mangé avec Thomas, Éric, et Noäh, then I got a tour of the school (again) from a strange group of individuals, none of which wanted to talk in French nor wanted me to talk in French. Now, when I say tour, I mean of the small little wing of the floor that I’m on, which I think is the third floor (out of four). And I’ve only seen about a third of that floor, so I haven’t actually been through most of the school.
14h00 - 15h00 Mathematiques Blur. It wasn’t inequalities though. Which is odd, in fact I remember no transition between what was discussed yesterday, and what was discussed today.
15h00 - 17h00 Umm… Thomas had a test in français which I didn’t have to take and it would’ve been terribly boring for me to sit in that class for two hours, so I chilled in the library. I wrote, I internetted, I read.
So that was my school day. The way home was the same, even though we caught the second bus but missed the first - so instead we took a different bus which follows a similar route. In fact, there are four 186 Buses that I saw. Four buses that adhere to the exact same route, all of which passed the same stop within minutes of each other. Chaos, I tell you. More Naruto in French…it’s really funny actually, but I still can’t get over how horrible those ninja clothes are…(Fun fact: “Ninja” in French is pronounced “neen-jah”) (Another fun fact: similarly, when they say “fish,” they pronounce it “feesh.” I have myself a little giggle to myself every time I hear it.)
It got to the point, though, where I was too tired to continue mashing buttons on Brawl or squint at silly French ninjas, so I went upstairs to read in bed with every intention of passing out for an hour or so. So I did. It felt good. Then dinner. Okay, so I’ve tried some weird stuff since I’ve been here, and I’ve generally enjoyed most of it. Not this, this was too much, I didn’t like it. Sea Urchin. In the spiky little half-shell. It wouldn’t have been so terrible had my bite (you have to scoop it out with a fork or spoon) not contained a few spines. I didn’t feel so bad wiping my tongue on the napkin to rid my mouth of that evil (I swallowed the actual bite, but not the shell/spines) because Thomas et Quentin had already refused to eat it, and Magdeleine informed me that she only eats the red parts (about half). It was all in good humor. Then there was…meat? Er, I really need to remember these meals better. The rest was good. Oh, there was salad. And noodles. Yeah. Then I slept again.
Am I already unable to think of a statement to end this blog entry with? It’s like the third day, this is shameful.
Taylor en France
Before I forget: les pantoufle. I have no idea how to spell it, but that’s generally the word for the slippers we have to wear in the house. C’est bizarre. Also: the bathroom, which is always warm, has a pretty sizeable tub, with a shower head like apparatus of significant length, but it’s not a shower nor doesn’t it at all facilitate cleaning oneself in a standing position. I haven’t taken a bath since I was very little and honestly I don’t know how. Oddly enough, it takes me about the same amount of time (I don’t’ wait for it to fill all the way). But the second bathroom is under construction right now and should be done in about a month. I’m not sure if it will have a standing shower, but it’ll be nice to be able to go to the bathroom at night or in the morning when I’m about ready to stain my shorts and other people are in the bathroom for 30 minutes to an hour. I’m a generally patient person, but when it comes to bowel movements I can get a little anxious. Moving on, school: ooh, let’s make a table!
Time Class Comments
9h30 - 10h30 Anglais The teacher made me read Obama’s inauguration speech to the class (in English). I was later informed that the teacher was giddy, because she like Obama so much (oh yeah, we didn’t have a first class today, I don’t know why not)
10h30 - 13h00 Education Civique, Economiques, et Module Français I have little to no memory of this class happening (it’s Wednesday 17h40 as I write this, so that could be why). I don’t think I particularly enjoyed it though. Wow, that’s really strange…
13h00 - 14h00 Dejeuner! (Chicken in this sauce stuff on…noodles? Maybe? And a crepe, and cucumbers in crème sauce, and yogurt, and bread) J’ai mangé avec Thomas, Éric, et Noäh, then I got a tour of the school (again) from a strange group of individuals, none of which wanted to talk in French nor wanted me to talk in French. Now, when I say tour, I mean of the small little wing of the floor that I’m on, which I think is the third floor (out of four). And I’ve only seen about a third of that floor, so I haven’t actually been through most of the school.
14h00 - 15h00 Mathematiques Blur. It wasn’t inequalities though. Which is odd, in fact I remember no transition between what was discussed yesterday, and what was discussed today.
15h00 - 17h00 Umm… Thomas had a test in français which I didn’t have to take and it would’ve been terribly boring for me to sit in that class for two hours, so I chilled in the library. I wrote, I internetted, I read.
So that was my school day. The way home was the same, even though we caught the second bus but missed the first - so instead we took a different bus which follows a similar route. In fact, there are four 186 Buses that I saw. Four buses that adhere to the exact same route, all of which passed the same stop within minutes of each other. Chaos, I tell you. More Naruto in French…it’s really funny actually, but I still can’t get over how horrible those ninja clothes are…(Fun fact: “Ninja” in French is pronounced “neen-jah”) (Another fun fact: similarly, when they say “fish,” they pronounce it “feesh.” I have myself a little giggle to myself every time I hear it.)
It got to the point, though, where I was too tired to continue mashing buttons on Brawl or squint at silly French ninjas, so I went upstairs to read in bed with every intention of passing out for an hour or so. So I did. It felt good. Then dinner. Okay, so I’ve tried some weird stuff since I’ve been here, and I’ve generally enjoyed most of it. Not this, this was too much, I didn’t like it. Sea Urchin. In the spiky little half-shell. It wouldn’t have been so terrible had my bite (you have to scoop it out with a fork or spoon) not contained a few spines. I didn’t feel so bad wiping my tongue on the napkin to rid my mouth of that evil (I swallowed the actual bite, but not the shell/spines) because Thomas et Quentin had already refused to eat it, and Magdeleine informed me that she only eats the red parts (about half). It was all in good humor. Then there was…meat? Er, I really need to remember these meals better. The rest was good. Oh, there was salad. And noodles. Yeah. Then I slept again.
Am I already unable to think of a statement to end this blog entry with? It’s like the third day, this is shameful.
Taylor en France
Le premiere jour d’école
Lundi: 2 fevrier
J’ai reveillé á 7h00, j’ai mangé petit dejeuner. C’était deux crêpes, un jus d’orange, et un chocolat chaud. C’était très delicieux. Ma mère française conduit mon frère français (Thomas) et moi á la station de train. Nous avons voyagé en train á l’école. D’accord, that’s enough français maintenant. The classes I had today were “Accompagnement” (8h30 - 9h30), “Mathematiques” (9h30 - 10h30), “Sciences Economiques” (10h30 - 11h30), “Francais” (11h30 - 13h00), dejeuner (13h00 - 14h00), “Sciences Physiques” and “Sciences Vie et Terre” (14h00 - 17h00). During most of the first class I was getting a tour of the school, which is a very big school. I guess there’s about 3-4000 students, but they’re of all ages. It was bizarre to see little kids in the hall walking around with all the high school aged kids, especially when they’re all dressed too. Oh yeah, everyone dresses like 5 notches higher on the fancy scale in France than people in the US, even the little kids. However, we’re not supposed to wear ties. I’m not entirely sure why not, but my host mom explained that it’s a major faux pas. Math wasn’t bad, because numbers are numbers, however they write a lot more for each problem, as in each problem not only do you have to find the answer you have to write up to a paragraph about how and why that’s the right answer. Sounds intense, right? Well, my homework was p60, # 113b, 115b. They were both solving inequalities. Someone still in math can verify this, a homework assignment of two inequalities (we didn’t even have to graph them) is so small in comparison to our average 10, 15, maybe 20 problem assignments. But I suppose the French stay in school for two and a half additional hours. I’m just going to settle on “It’s about the same” because my school starts a half hour later than school in US and lunch is a half hour longer here. Economiques was very hard, I really didn’t understand anything. They kept asking me questions: What I thought about Obama, what I thought about the recession, how Boeing was doing, things like that. In English, I feel that I am relatively equipped with handling such questions, and BSing whatever I don’t know. Not in French. Ne pas en français. Le classe de français was about théâtre classique, et je comprende (I know how to say the word for about, but I haven’t the slightest how to spell it) about half of it. I know many theatre terms, so that came in handy. Dejeuner: oh mon dieux, il y a beaucoup, beaucoup des gens á mon école. (Fun fact: when you say “mon école” quickly, it sounds like “monocle.” I have a little giggle every now and then). With 3000 students, the school is about twice as big as mon école dans les états unis. I had… oh what did I have…I had food. I can’t believe I forgot. I ate with Thomas but partway through lunch he had to go talk to a teacher about something (side note: the teachers are generally nice, helpful, friendly, and occasionally funny. They acknowledge students in the hall, and answer questions before and after class. I say this because I was told many times over that most teachers won’t give you the time of day, they march in, give a lecture, then leave. That’s really not the case at all, even the principal is helpful and friendly), so he left me with some of his friends (Éric, Noäh, and others) and I was supposed to wait there with them until he came back. Well, they hadn’t eaten yet so they were like, “Come on, you can chill with us while we eat” but not really because it was in French, so I did that. Then we went back and they tried to teach me how to play Magic: The Gathering. A generally short story even shorter: I didn’t learn, maybe from lack of trying. Physiques was not physics, but chemistry, and I understand chemistry, so I had fun, especially because we got to build molecules with the little model sets and I’m really good at that. I actually got to help Thomas, and that made me feel less like a stray puppy following him around all the time. However it didn’t help that I had a nosebleed in that class (Oh, je suis malade, j’ai une rhume, et quand j’ai une rhume mon nez saigne souvent - I have a cold, and when I have a cold my nose bleeds frequently. Yes, I’m using the Neosporin, mom) (another side note, I like telling gruesome bloody nose stories - the first night here I woke up in the middle of the night, and I could feel that my nose had just started bleeding. I tried to make sure to guide the runoff so that I didn’t stain these new pillows, but as a result I ended up having to desperately wipe away the blood that had pooled over my left eyelid. I had to act quickly, you see, because once it dries I can’t open that eye until I scrub and wash it. I managed to keep my bedding clean, as well as make it to the bathroom without anyone noticing my bloodied face. Did I successfully gross everyone out?) Wow, this is lasting really long. Where was I? Okay, Les sciences de vie et terre, or biology and geology. I almost fell asleep. As I believe I said before, the afternoon (about 3, ou 15h00) is when jetlag (I think) hits me like a, well, a jet. This particular class was about reproduction as far as I could tell. I recognized the word “blastula” and the other terms that I’ve forgotten at this point because I never liked bio. There didn’t appear to be any “terre” this time, which is strange to think about because the class was about 2 hours long. The way it works, the reason I put it in the same time slot as physiques, is because it’s supposed to go physiques, then vie et terre, then physiques again, then finalement vie et terre, at least that’s what it says on the schedule. Then the way home: Thomas et moi walked a block to the train station, rode a train for a while, got off, walked a block to check a bus - oh, did I say walk? I meant sprint because we were about to miss it - then rode that bus for a while, got off, then sprinted to catch the next bus, which we missed. So we walked home, it only took about 20 minutes though so it wasn’t that bad. And all that running made the snow negligible. Oh yeah, I forgot to mention, my first night there it snowed. It was pretty much melted by afternoon though. Though generally sunny, the temperature has been flirting with 0°, bouncing on either side throughout the day. Mais, c’est la même á Bellingham. So, school: I got made fun of a little, but it was funny and I didn’t really care. Way home: I would get lost if I had to do it by myself. Home: watched Naruto and South Park en français et c’est très bizarre mais assez drôle aussi. Played a little Smash Bros Brawl, Thomas pwns as Kirby…puts me to shame…fait mes devoirs des Mathematiques, et j’ai mangé at like 21h30 or something. It was fish eggs in bread or something. I think it was fried. It was good. There was a bunch of other stuff too. Dinner always includes: appetizer, first course, bread, second course, desert. (Desert is usually pudding or yogurt or the like). Then I slept. Oh, how I slept. And the rest will be saved for Tuesday.
Á demain, mes amis!
Taylor en France
J’ai reveillé á 7h00, j’ai mangé petit dejeuner. C’était deux crêpes, un jus d’orange, et un chocolat chaud. C’était très delicieux. Ma mère française conduit mon frère français (Thomas) et moi á la station de train. Nous avons voyagé en train á l’école. D’accord, that’s enough français maintenant. The classes I had today were “Accompagnement” (8h30 - 9h30), “Mathematiques” (9h30 - 10h30), “Sciences Economiques” (10h30 - 11h30), “Francais” (11h30 - 13h00), dejeuner (13h00 - 14h00), “Sciences Physiques” and “Sciences Vie et Terre” (14h00 - 17h00). During most of the first class I was getting a tour of the school, which is a very big school. I guess there’s about 3-4000 students, but they’re of all ages. It was bizarre to see little kids in the hall walking around with all the high school aged kids, especially when they’re all dressed too. Oh yeah, everyone dresses like 5 notches higher on the fancy scale in France than people in the US, even the little kids. However, we’re not supposed to wear ties. I’m not entirely sure why not, but my host mom explained that it’s a major faux pas. Math wasn’t bad, because numbers are numbers, however they write a lot more for each problem, as in each problem not only do you have to find the answer you have to write up to a paragraph about how and why that’s the right answer. Sounds intense, right? Well, my homework was p60, # 113b, 115b. They were both solving inequalities. Someone still in math can verify this, a homework assignment of two inequalities (we didn’t even have to graph them) is so small in comparison to our average 10, 15, maybe 20 problem assignments. But I suppose the French stay in school for two and a half additional hours. I’m just going to settle on “It’s about the same” because my school starts a half hour later than school in US and lunch is a half hour longer here. Economiques was very hard, I really didn’t understand anything. They kept asking me questions: What I thought about Obama, what I thought about the recession, how Boeing was doing, things like that. In English, I feel that I am relatively equipped with handling such questions, and BSing whatever I don’t know. Not in French. Ne pas en français. Le classe de français was about théâtre classique, et je comprende (I know how to say the word for about, but I haven’t the slightest how to spell it) about half of it. I know many theatre terms, so that came in handy. Dejeuner: oh mon dieux, il y a beaucoup, beaucoup des gens á mon école. (Fun fact: when you say “mon école” quickly, it sounds like “monocle.” I have a little giggle every now and then). With 3000 students, the school is about twice as big as mon école dans les états unis. I had… oh what did I have…I had food. I can’t believe I forgot. I ate with Thomas but partway through lunch he had to go talk to a teacher about something (side note: the teachers are generally nice, helpful, friendly, and occasionally funny. They acknowledge students in the hall, and answer questions before and after class. I say this because I was told many times over that most teachers won’t give you the time of day, they march in, give a lecture, then leave. That’s really not the case at all, even the principal is helpful and friendly), so he left me with some of his friends (Éric, Noäh, and others) and I was supposed to wait there with them until he came back. Well, they hadn’t eaten yet so they were like, “Come on, you can chill with us while we eat” but not really because it was in French, so I did that. Then we went back and they tried to teach me how to play Magic: The Gathering. A generally short story even shorter: I didn’t learn, maybe from lack of trying. Physiques was not physics, but chemistry, and I understand chemistry, so I had fun, especially because we got to build molecules with the little model sets and I’m really good at that. I actually got to help Thomas, and that made me feel less like a stray puppy following him around all the time. However it didn’t help that I had a nosebleed in that class (Oh, je suis malade, j’ai une rhume, et quand j’ai une rhume mon nez saigne souvent - I have a cold, and when I have a cold my nose bleeds frequently. Yes, I’m using the Neosporin, mom) (another side note, I like telling gruesome bloody nose stories - the first night here I woke up in the middle of the night, and I could feel that my nose had just started bleeding. I tried to make sure to guide the runoff so that I didn’t stain these new pillows, but as a result I ended up having to desperately wipe away the blood that had pooled over my left eyelid. I had to act quickly, you see, because once it dries I can’t open that eye until I scrub and wash it. I managed to keep my bedding clean, as well as make it to the bathroom without anyone noticing my bloodied face. Did I successfully gross everyone out?) Wow, this is lasting really long. Where was I? Okay, Les sciences de vie et terre, or biology and geology. I almost fell asleep. As I believe I said before, the afternoon (about 3, ou 15h00) is when jetlag (I think) hits me like a, well, a jet. This particular class was about reproduction as far as I could tell. I recognized the word “blastula” and the other terms that I’ve forgotten at this point because I never liked bio. There didn’t appear to be any “terre” this time, which is strange to think about because the class was about 2 hours long. The way it works, the reason I put it in the same time slot as physiques, is because it’s supposed to go physiques, then vie et terre, then physiques again, then finalement vie et terre, at least that’s what it says on the schedule. Then the way home: Thomas et moi walked a block to the train station, rode a train for a while, got off, walked a block to check a bus - oh, did I say walk? I meant sprint because we were about to miss it - then rode that bus for a while, got off, then sprinted to catch the next bus, which we missed. So we walked home, it only took about 20 minutes though so it wasn’t that bad. And all that running made the snow negligible. Oh yeah, I forgot to mention, my first night there it snowed. It was pretty much melted by afternoon though. Though generally sunny, the temperature has been flirting with 0°, bouncing on either side throughout the day. Mais, c’est la même á Bellingham. So, school: I got made fun of a little, but it was funny and I didn’t really care. Way home: I would get lost if I had to do it by myself. Home: watched Naruto and South Park en français et c’est très bizarre mais assez drôle aussi. Played a little Smash Bros Brawl, Thomas pwns as Kirby…puts me to shame…fait mes devoirs des Mathematiques, et j’ai mangé at like 21h30 or something. It was fish eggs in bread or something. I think it was fried. It was good. There was a bunch of other stuff too. Dinner always includes: appetizer, first course, bread, second course, desert. (Desert is usually pudding or yogurt or the like). Then I slept. Oh, how I slept. And the rest will be saved for Tuesday.
Á demain, mes amis!
Taylor en France
Le premier jour
Dimanche: 1 fevrier
Je. Suis. Fatigue. I’m also very, very full. I’ve been fed so much delicious food, it makes me doubt whether I should continue eating because obviously at this point any food consumed hereafter will be a comparative disappointment. But I am so, so very full, I may just explode. Growing up, I never had that pressure to finish everything on my plate, but somewhere along the lines that got implanted in me. It would be a much easier feat if I saw all the food at once. Dejeuner was between 2 and 3 PM (for sake of reference: 5-6 AM Pacific US time). It began with appetizers, or..uh…the French word for appetizers (desolé, my brain crashed and burned around that time). There were mini pita sandwiches, mushrooms avec la beurre de escargot (not actually escargot, just the butter sauce that usually goes with it), little bread things with an assortments of other things piled on top, then these plastic/rubber sleeve things stuffed full like mini sausages with bread doused in pork blood - actually not as gross as it sounds, but I have a thing about extracting food from a tube, call me old fashioned…and I think there was other stuff. After that I thought, “well, okay, I’ve been generally satisfied hunger-wise, I can get used to this.” But after some time, we moved from the salon (living room) to the salle de manger (dining room), and began our full meal. This consisted of bread (that we had purchased à la boulingerie (okay, I’m not actually sure how to spell most these words, so bare with me here). Then there was this awesome meat stuff that actually stopped me in my tracks. I think it was beef, it may have been pork, though what I am sure of is that it was a life-changing experience. I will not describe it, and unfortunately I do not know what it was called so you can’t look it up for yourself. Oh la la, j’oublier les autre répas (FYI - répas was not the right word to use there).
I would take pictures of my awesome room to show how awesome it is, but I guess we’re not supposed to do that? Because if someone were to see it on the internet, they could be like “hey, their computer is by a window and it looks unlocked, I could totally get in there” (Note - l’ordinateur de ma famille n’est pas près une fenêtre et c’êtrais beaucoup difacile to totally get in there). The tracks lights along the ceiling, the lava lamp on the dresser, the LED lamp on the glass-top desk, the orange neon rave lamp in the corner and that Sharper Image like circle lamp thing beneath by bunk bed (the bottom bunk is my couch/dresser) are all controlled independently by one of two remotes in the room. Ce n’est pas important.
The photo game. This is really cool, and would’ve been much cooler were I not on the brink of passing out from jetlag and general fatigue and were it not Freezing Cold degrees centigrade (it’s pretty much the same for Fahrenheit, if you’re looking for a conversion). I guess ma famille had tried to tell me about this a number of times and I wasn’t quite picking up on it, but I figured out the rules as we went along. So, a bunch of people meet up at this place, then at this place they divide into groups of about 4-6 people (there were 6 groups this time) and then the assignment is given. Three one-word/phrase categories are given out and each group needs to take a picture for each category, then everyone comes back at a certain time, picks their best for each category, then they put those pictures on this guy’s laptop which is connected to a projector. He then projects all the pictures for each category, and after a few times through, everyone votes for their favorite. Then each category has a winner (the group I was in one the first two categories), and then everyone hangs out and eats cake (you know the kind with the toy inside? Then whoever gets the toy est le roi?). The categories this time were Cuoak: it was spelled something like that, it literally means the sound a duck makes, but is used to express something strange or bizarre; Bling - Bling: I guess this also means something strange, or something, I don’t know. I know I’ll get it terribly wrong, so I’ll just say what it means in English: Up and down, or upside down. This last category was the one we lost. Our group was among the several that took some sort of variant of “this picture contains someone who is upside down.” The winning picture was the photograph of the address that had the numbers “69.”
I want to sleep, but I have to use the bathroom and the bathroom is taken…I have to go to school tomorrow…whiny whiny whiny. Good, glad that’s over with. I wondering at what point a torrent of hate and unhappiness and homesickness will hit me.
So I believe that about wraps it up. I know for the first few days I’ll be able to write a whole lot easily, but as time goes on, I’ll probably step down to a weekly schedule.
Merci beaucoup!
Taylor en France
Je. Suis. Fatigue. I’m also very, very full. I’ve been fed so much delicious food, it makes me doubt whether I should continue eating because obviously at this point any food consumed hereafter will be a comparative disappointment. But I am so, so very full, I may just explode. Growing up, I never had that pressure to finish everything on my plate, but somewhere along the lines that got implanted in me. It would be a much easier feat if I saw all the food at once. Dejeuner was between 2 and 3 PM (for sake of reference: 5-6 AM Pacific US time). It began with appetizers, or..uh…the French word for appetizers (desolé, my brain crashed and burned around that time). There were mini pita sandwiches, mushrooms avec la beurre de escargot (not actually escargot, just the butter sauce that usually goes with it), little bread things with an assortments of other things piled on top, then these plastic/rubber sleeve things stuffed full like mini sausages with bread doused in pork blood - actually not as gross as it sounds, but I have a thing about extracting food from a tube, call me old fashioned…and I think there was other stuff. After that I thought, “well, okay, I’ve been generally satisfied hunger-wise, I can get used to this.” But after some time, we moved from the salon (living room) to the salle de manger (dining room), and began our full meal. This consisted of bread (that we had purchased à la boulingerie (okay, I’m not actually sure how to spell most these words, so bare with me here). Then there was this awesome meat stuff that actually stopped me in my tracks. I think it was beef, it may have been pork, though what I am sure of is that it was a life-changing experience. I will not describe it, and unfortunately I do not know what it was called so you can’t look it up for yourself. Oh la la, j’oublier les autre répas (FYI - répas was not the right word to use there).
I would take pictures of my awesome room to show how awesome it is, but I guess we’re not supposed to do that? Because if someone were to see it on the internet, they could be like “hey, their computer is by a window and it looks unlocked, I could totally get in there” (Note - l’ordinateur de ma famille n’est pas près une fenêtre et c’êtrais beaucoup difacile to totally get in there). The tracks lights along the ceiling, the lava lamp on the dresser, the LED lamp on the glass-top desk, the orange neon rave lamp in the corner and that Sharper Image like circle lamp thing beneath by bunk bed (the bottom bunk is my couch/dresser) are all controlled independently by one of two remotes in the room. Ce n’est pas important.
The photo game. This is really cool, and would’ve been much cooler were I not on the brink of passing out from jetlag and general fatigue and were it not Freezing Cold degrees centigrade (it’s pretty much the same for Fahrenheit, if you’re looking for a conversion). I guess ma famille had tried to tell me about this a number of times and I wasn’t quite picking up on it, but I figured out the rules as we went along. So, a bunch of people meet up at this place, then at this place they divide into groups of about 4-6 people (there were 6 groups this time) and then the assignment is given. Three one-word/phrase categories are given out and each group needs to take a picture for each category, then everyone comes back at a certain time, picks their best for each category, then they put those pictures on this guy’s laptop which is connected to a projector. He then projects all the pictures for each category, and after a few times through, everyone votes for their favorite. Then each category has a winner (the group I was in one the first two categories), and then everyone hangs out and eats cake (you know the kind with the toy inside? Then whoever gets the toy est le roi?). The categories this time were Cuoak: it was spelled something like that, it literally means the sound a duck makes, but is used to express something strange or bizarre; Bling - Bling: I guess this also means something strange, or something, I don’t know. I know I’ll get it terribly wrong, so I’ll just say what it means in English: Up and down, or upside down. This last category was the one we lost. Our group was among the several that took some sort of variant of “this picture contains someone who is upside down.” The winning picture was the photograph of the address that had the numbers “69.”
I want to sleep, but I have to use the bathroom and the bathroom is taken…I have to go to school tomorrow…whiny whiny whiny. Good, glad that’s over with. I wondering at what point a torrent of hate and unhappiness and homesickness will hit me.
So I believe that about wraps it up. I know for the first few days I’ll be able to write a whole lot easily, but as time goes on, I’ll probably step down to a weekly schedule.
Merci beaucoup!
Taylor en France
From the Hostel in Paris
Paris - 1 fevrier
As far as hostels go, I’d have to say this one isn’t bad. Well, this is my first time in a hostel, but no sadistic businessman purchased me for the purpose of gruesome torture, so I’m deciding that I got one of the good ones.
My sleeping schedule has completely shifted: I am now a morning person. I get really tired around 10 PM and well pass out if not steadily stimulated. Friday night I woke up in the complete dark, fully clothed on top of my blanket, music still playing in my headphones, book open laying on my chest. Out like a light. I’ve been waking up around 5 AM and falling back asleep off and on until about 6:30 AM when I simply can’t do it any longer and must rise and join the world of the wakeful. Saturday morning I did have an epic lucid dream via music-induced meditation (lucid dream meaning the unusually kind one has conscious control over). I went around and visited all of you. When you asked why I wasn’t in France I stated frankly, “I am, I curled up sleeping on my bed in a hostel right now, I’m just visiting you in a dream.” To which you completely understood. So, if I visited anyone, you must let me know.
I won’t go through the details of the itinerary, it’s usually various ratios of eating, sleeping, orientations and socializing. And ridiculous singing and dancing in parks (side note: I got to teach theatre games! Yay for being a theatre geek!) We also had a bus tour (our guides were the AFS local volunteers, they made the whole thing a lot of fun) of Paris, of which I didn’t take a whole lot of pictures of - my camera was dying. However, many other people took pictures and will be posting them on Facebook. In such event, I will steal them or link to them. That is as soon as I get internet (oops, I realized the anachronistic nature of that sentence, in that I don’t have internet at the time of writing this, but by time anyone reads this I will have internet…because I’ll need internet to post this. Oh well).
I met all sorts of fascinating and awesome people. Actually, four of the students were at one point in their lives models (two guys, two girls). Yeah. That happened. New Zealanders are really cool people: when we were divided into smaller groups, I got to be in the group with most of the people from New Zealand. I’m not sure if they represent all of New Zealand in that way, but they were fun. One such Kiwi, Francis, brought Flight of the Concords on DVD as a gift for her host family (because they’re New Zealand’s claim to fame right now) so a group of us watched a few episodes.
Sometimes I feel a little intimidated, I suppose, of the frequency at which these other AFSers have traveled. I mean, discounting the travel that happened before I was forming cognitive memories, I have never left my time zone. Most people here would need both hands to count all the countries they’ve been to or lived in. Oh well, we all have to start somewhere, right?
Discounting plane food, I am ashamed to say that the first place I ate in France was…McDonald’s. I’m not sure if it was to ease the culture shock or what, but the AFS volunteers decided that that would be the best place to start. Well, I didn’t eat anything there considering the food’s tendency to make me physically ill, so I suppose the first food that I ate was here in the cafeteria of the hostel. It was generally pretty good, even though I didn’t really know what most of it was. Ooh, this is bizarre: the French don’t color their yogurt (later edit: actually they do, sometimes, but not all the time). Therefore, no matter the flavor, it is always white and the same consistency (no fruit chunks). It’s a trifle disorienting to be eating something that obviously tastes pink or red but is unmistakably white. Also, mineral water: still gross in France.
It’s pretty quiet right now - my roommates are both sleeping and all but 5 or 6 of us have gotten on buses and trains to take them to their families. In about 30 minutes time, my family will arrive to pick me up. I will meet them, then I will be part of their family. There’s something odd about just hopping into a situation that usually grows from, quite literally, a fetus. Je vais être son fils. C’est etrange.
Lastly, to clear up confusion due to my misinformation: when I received my Visa information, I was uner the impression that I was going to be in Poitiers, so when I received my family information and the address said Cachan, I figured that it was a suburb of Poitiers. This, however, is not at all the case. Cachan is a suburb of Paris, about 10 or so km outside the city. Much to the jealousy of many other travelers, I will be staying just outside of Paris. I find this ironic because often times when other people would talk about my exchange, they would say I would be living in Paris and I would correct them by saying France, I’m not sure where in France yet. So, people who would say Paris, instead the more general France, it turns out you were right. Annnnd… I have to go downstairs now…to meet my family soon.
Wish me luck!
Taylor en France
As far as hostels go, I’d have to say this one isn’t bad. Well, this is my first time in a hostel, but no sadistic businessman purchased me for the purpose of gruesome torture, so I’m deciding that I got one of the good ones.
My sleeping schedule has completely shifted: I am now a morning person. I get really tired around 10 PM and well pass out if not steadily stimulated. Friday night I woke up in the complete dark, fully clothed on top of my blanket, music still playing in my headphones, book open laying on my chest. Out like a light. I’ve been waking up around 5 AM and falling back asleep off and on until about 6:30 AM when I simply can’t do it any longer and must rise and join the world of the wakeful. Saturday morning I did have an epic lucid dream via music-induced meditation (lucid dream meaning the unusually kind one has conscious control over). I went around and visited all of you. When you asked why I wasn’t in France I stated frankly, “I am, I curled up sleeping on my bed in a hostel right now, I’m just visiting you in a dream.” To which you completely understood. So, if I visited anyone, you must let me know.
I won’t go through the details of the itinerary, it’s usually various ratios of eating, sleeping, orientations and socializing. And ridiculous singing and dancing in parks (side note: I got to teach theatre games! Yay for being a theatre geek!) We also had a bus tour (our guides were the AFS local volunteers, they made the whole thing a lot of fun) of Paris, of which I didn’t take a whole lot of pictures of - my camera was dying. However, many other people took pictures and will be posting them on Facebook. In such event, I will steal them or link to them. That is as soon as I get internet (oops, I realized the anachronistic nature of that sentence, in that I don’t have internet at the time of writing this, but by time anyone reads this I will have internet…because I’ll need internet to post this. Oh well).
I met all sorts of fascinating and awesome people. Actually, four of the students were at one point in their lives models (two guys, two girls). Yeah. That happened. New Zealanders are really cool people: when we were divided into smaller groups, I got to be in the group with most of the people from New Zealand. I’m not sure if they represent all of New Zealand in that way, but they were fun. One such Kiwi, Francis, brought Flight of the Concords on DVD as a gift for her host family (because they’re New Zealand’s claim to fame right now) so a group of us watched a few episodes.
Sometimes I feel a little intimidated, I suppose, of the frequency at which these other AFSers have traveled. I mean, discounting the travel that happened before I was forming cognitive memories, I have never left my time zone. Most people here would need both hands to count all the countries they’ve been to or lived in. Oh well, we all have to start somewhere, right?
Discounting plane food, I am ashamed to say that the first place I ate in France was…McDonald’s. I’m not sure if it was to ease the culture shock or what, but the AFS volunteers decided that that would be the best place to start. Well, I didn’t eat anything there considering the food’s tendency to make me physically ill, so I suppose the first food that I ate was here in the cafeteria of the hostel. It was generally pretty good, even though I didn’t really know what most of it was. Ooh, this is bizarre: the French don’t color their yogurt (later edit: actually they do, sometimes, but not all the time). Therefore, no matter the flavor, it is always white and the same consistency (no fruit chunks). It’s a trifle disorienting to be eating something that obviously tastes pink or red but is unmistakably white. Also, mineral water: still gross in France.
It’s pretty quiet right now - my roommates are both sleeping and all but 5 or 6 of us have gotten on buses and trains to take them to their families. In about 30 minutes time, my family will arrive to pick me up. I will meet them, then I will be part of their family. There’s something odd about just hopping into a situation that usually grows from, quite literally, a fetus. Je vais être son fils. C’est etrange.
Lastly, to clear up confusion due to my misinformation: when I received my Visa information, I was uner the impression that I was going to be in Poitiers, so when I received my family information and the address said Cachan, I figured that it was a suburb of Poitiers. This, however, is not at all the case. Cachan is a suburb of Paris, about 10 or so km outside the city. Much to the jealousy of many other travelers, I will be staying just outside of Paris. I find this ironic because often times when other people would talk about my exchange, they would say I would be living in Paris and I would correct them by saying France, I’m not sure where in France yet. So, people who would say Paris, instead the more general France, it turns out you were right. Annnnd… I have to go downstairs now…to meet my family soon.
Wish me luck!
Taylor en France
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
Bienvenue à l'Hotel California
my family listens to The Eagles. In English. Music in english throws me off...
ma famille ecoutent de The Eagles. En anglais. Musique en anglais est difacile pour moi.
I try to listen to music without words, that why I can think in french.
j'essay écouter à la musique sans mots, donc je peux penser en français.
Ah! I'm talking like a little kid! I just want to be better at french already! I want to be able to talk quickly again, and be able to say what I want to say and not a butchered mesh of blah!
Oh la la! Je parle comme un bébé! Je veux etre meillure...at...français! Je veux pouvoir parler vite encore, et pouvoir dire quoi je veux dire et ne dit pas un ... butchered mes de blah!
Wow, I was hoping to quit out halfway through that, and start throwing in random, french words instead.
Wow, j'ai ésperer quitter aprepres, um, melieux, et commence, uh...au hasard...mots français...
...baguette?
ma famille ecoutent de The Eagles. En anglais. Musique en anglais est difacile pour moi.
I try to listen to music without words, that why I can think in french.
j'essay écouter à la musique sans mots, donc je peux penser en français.
Ah! I'm talking like a little kid! I just want to be better at french already! I want to be able to talk quickly again, and be able to say what I want to say and not a butchered mesh of blah!
Oh la la! Je parle comme un bébé! Je veux etre meillure...at...français! Je veux pouvoir parler vite encore, et pouvoir dire quoi je veux dire et ne dit pas un ... butchered mes de blah!
Wow, I was hoping to quit out halfway through that, and start throwing in random, french words instead.
Wow, j'ai ésperer quitter aprepres, um, melieux, et commence, uh...au hasard...mots français...
...baguette?
Monday, February 9, 2009
So, here it goes
The Excuse.
It started in New York. I wrote a blog on my laptop, didn't finish it, and just saved it to the computer. Then again in Paris, at the internet-less hostel, I wrote another blog and saved it to the laptop. You can see a habit forming: I'd write a blog and save it until I got internet access. It worked.
It worked especially so when I heard my family would have wireless internet. Prefect, I thought. And perfect it would've been except for one detail: my family doesn't know the password for their secure wireless connection. So, on my laptop right now sits about 10 pages of blog, just eager and waiting to explode into the world. And wait they shall.
I tried using my flashdrive, but it turns out that the little thing doesn't speak french. I'll keep trying different file formats, to see if something works. I believe Magdeleine is in the process of working something out. With all hope, Robonator will be up and online soon, and then ye shall receive a torrent of status updates. I even have charts.
Please, bare with me here. Once this ailment is remedied, we will see some normalcy.
Taylor en France.
It started in New York. I wrote a blog on my laptop, didn't finish it, and just saved it to the computer. Then again in Paris, at the internet-less hostel, I wrote another blog and saved it to the laptop. You can see a habit forming: I'd write a blog and save it until I got internet access. It worked.
It worked especially so when I heard my family would have wireless internet. Prefect, I thought. And perfect it would've been except for one detail: my family doesn't know the password for their secure wireless connection. So, on my laptop right now sits about 10 pages of blog, just eager and waiting to explode into the world. And wait they shall.
I tried using my flashdrive, but it turns out that the little thing doesn't speak french. I'll keep trying different file formats, to see if something works. I believe Magdeleine is in the process of working something out. With all hope, Robonator will be up and online soon, and then ye shall receive a torrent of status updates. I even have charts.
Please, bare with me here. Once this ailment is remedied, we will see some normalcy.
Taylor en France.
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