I've been afraid of you, Blog

I had a feeling that when the time came to sit down and write this inevitable blog, it would need to be a masterpiece, epic a length and glorious in the lavish descriptions of my daily adventures. I decided, in lieu of (lieu is French for place. And now you know!) delaying further this post, thus mounting ever-continuing metric tons of pressure on the necessary quality it most contain, I went for the simple escape.
I will tell you a few brief things. That will relieve pressure, and I will be less intimidated by the Most Recent Post's date slipping into the past.
I went on vacation, from April 12th to the 26th. First we went to Vatan (you may remember this unfortunately named city from a previous blog, for within this city lies the home of an Uncle and his family unit). We went to this very uncle's house again, where we stayed for two nights. I read comics, played cards, ate, pas grands choses. We left on Tuesday for Ile d'Oleron. It was a 4 to 5 hour drive. Quentin, Thomas et moi slept in a room smaller than my room is now. There was one bed and two air mattresses, we switched each night. Nothing really happened those first few days, Tuesday to Thursday, and if anything did happen it was drowned beneath the sea of anticipation that was crashing its waves within me. Thursday, we drove an hour to La Rochelle, where I got on a train which I rode for two hours. Medwin died during the third song, so the word 'hours' could effectively be replaced by 'millennia.' (Note: this is getting really annoying thinking of the words in French first and not knowing how to say what I want in English. You come second, French, know your place). I descended onto the platform, retrieving my cellphone from my pocket. It had been off to conserve battery for I had forgotten my charger in Oleron, so I turned it on and a bouquet of messages flourished on the screen - mounting degrees of worry, questions as to my status - and as I began my response, it suddenly and very pleasantly, became absolutely pointless. Because that's when Mariah hugged me.
Saturday was Mariah's birthday, so I got to stay til Sunday. (For another fun word swap activity, replace 'got' with 'wanted' and 'Sunday' with 'forever'). This weekend was a solid chunk of pure happiness. My words are entirely inadequate in expressing it.
The rest of the vacation was stressful as my personal space was eroded into nonexistence and my physical health suffered more in a matter of days than the last few years, I believe. This is the part where you assume I'm exaggerating so you don't worry (..mom). Not only was I was sick with a cough and a cold, I fell of the bike and had the pedal cut into my leg (I have pictures for all this too, don't worry), I bodysurfed too far onto the beach and sanded a patch of skin from my hip and tops of my feet, and the cherry on top: while handwashing a glass (no dishwasher there), it broke inexplicably and cut my hand in four places. The worst nick cut just over two sides of triangle skin flap from the side of my hand below my pinky. I suppose the quantity of blood emitted thenceforth, in addition with the plentiful existence of important anatomical things contained in the hand and the possibility of a little glass squatter still chilling in my wound, Magdeleine and Phillippe wrapped my hand craftily in several layers of paper towel and drove me to the local island medical center place. Which was closed. On a Saturday mid-afternoon. So we drove about a half hour to the nearest pharmacie, which, now this is weird, I was supplied medical attention equivalent to that of a nurse. When we got to the counter, the lady cashier was like, "Oh, let's take a look at that," and lead us into the back part of the pharmacie where she cleaned, examined, and bandaged the wound. Fortunately, it did not require stitches nor did it contain morsels of glass. We got home Sunday, technically Monday, at 00h30. Five and a half hours later, I woke up for school.
There was no school last Friday (the first of May is an important and flower-giving holiday). We went to Magdeleine's parents house where fun and delicious happened (fun - playing tag on a giant hill covered with giant rocks; delicious - I love macaroons) then we left around Midnight between Saturday and Sunday (you see a trend here?). Nothing much happened on Sunday. There is no school this Friday, I think it's the French Labor Day. I'm not sure if there's anything planned. Next week is normal, but the week after there's no school Thursday or Friday. This makes me happy. I believe we will be roasting a pig.
I saw Wolverine. I kind of need to talk about it with someone, who if you've seen it comment or email me.
Oh right, I have to tell about all the weird things I ate. I can't really remember anymore. I already talked about the escargot, right? We had raw oysters with almost every lunch and dinner in Oleron, that got old. I ate squid, it was good until I accidentally crunched into the beak. Lots of delicious shrimp. Oh, I went fishing for shrimp, which is kind of fun. You stand out in the rocks in the water with some nets laid in some holes, and when a shrimpy or two wanders in, you snatch up the net really fast. Oh no, now I have to talk about words.
pêcher - to fish
pécher - to sin
pêche - peach
dépêcher - to hurry (to dispatch, literally, but it's almost always used for 'to hurry')
There you go, I think there's another, but I can't remember. But seriously, francophones, is peche just a really cool sounding word that gets to go into a bunch of otherwise entirely unrelated words?
Another French language thing that makes Taylor upset: encore. Encore is french for 'again,' 'still,' and 'yet.' And according to Google translator, it also means 'anew,' 'even,' 'furthermore,' and 'over.' It must be some weird form of 'over,' but I mean...That's a total of seven words. Seven. And they're not even the same word! Also 'top' and 'bottom' and unlikable: 'dessus' and 'dessous,' respectively, and said almost exactly the same. Okay I'm done ranting about that for now.
Oh, yeah, food. I ate rabbit tonight. I ate it's liver. (No fava beans, no chianti)
Other stuff too, I just don't remember. I will eventually, and I will right about it later, which will hopefully not be after another month gap. I hope it was only a month. Anyways, I'm alive. How are you doing? No diseased pigs kill you yet? (Yeah, why did no one tell me about this Mexican/US plague that's already killed like 20 people?)
It's good to be back,
Taylor en France