Study Abroad Day 1: 16 hours and 10 minutes...

...That's how long it took me to get from Atlanta to Tours. Just like everything else, I didn't take the easiest way to get here!

Yesterday was a long day: I went to bed somewhere around 2am, then got up at 6am to get the last minute things taken care of. In honor of a month sans bagels, I went on a field trip to Einsten Brothers for a chocolate chip bagel. Butler got permission to come, too, so he and I had a morning outing together. Einstein's has doggie bagels, so I indulged him, too. (Pics of his big ol' head out the back window are posted in Facebook). April graciously dropped me and my bazillion pound luggage at the Capitol before she went to work. Rita had offered to let me stash my stuff in her office until it was time for me to leave, so I took her up on the offer. We sat around and chatted for a couple hours, then I marched off to school for the last day of Maymester. After fidgeting in my chair for all of class, it was finally 3:00pm and I headed to the airport.

Do you know what the weight limit is on a single piece of luggage? 50 pounds. Do you know how much mine weighed? 50 pounds. No wonder I was winded from toting it all over downtown Atlanta. I ended up having to bring my computer with me to finish some final papers for my Maymester history course, so that plus all its accoutrements added to my poundage. Needless to say, I overpacked. Once I unpack and arrange my clothes, I'll probably fill up the entire wardrobe in my room.... :: typical girl:: (photo is trying to show my blisters)

From Brussels I had to take a train to Paris, to Gare du Nord. From there, I had to take the metro to Gare Austerlitz to catch my train to Tours (not complicated at all, is it?) Despite all the train hopping, the day went quite smoothly: I neither missed a train nor took the wrong train. I baffles me that I can travel so well across thousands of miles, yet can't figure out Sidney Marcus Boulevard.

Dr. Braunrot and M. Antier met me at the Tours Gare, and we waited for two other students, who eventually got here on another train. M. & Mme. Antier live not too far from the Gare, so we walked over here. Poor M. Antier insisted upon toting my suitcase. He did, however, leave it at the first floor for me to take up later. The three of us seated ourselves at the dining room table and chatted for a few minutes, then Shalomie- a fellow student- and Mme. Antier joined us. The Antiers are just the most fun people! I was very well-placed.

Shalomie and I decided to go for a stroll, first to FNAC to purchase some of my books, then for a brisk walk along the Loire river. We returned later to the house and Benjamin, the third and final GSU student to reside here at 4, rue Balzac had arrived. There is also another student here, not from our program, Valerie. The Antiers had dinner for us a few minutes later: M. Antier traditionally cooks spaghetti on Saturday nights, so that was dinner. Our dessert was a wonderful caramel creme for dessert (a WAY better version of flan). Conversation was good; we are all a little shy about using our French, but it went well.

We're all sitting in our own version of internet cafe in our little breakfast nook.

Now it's off to work on my papers and final exams for Maymester...and unpack!!

Ken Lee. No, no, I Ken Lee!!

This cracks me up more than anything else lately. LOVE the English subtitles.


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_RgL2MKfWTo

Shallots

Now that the weather is finally nice again (every other day or so at least) I’m really trying to get some good use out of my bike. And in that same sense of self-improvement, I’m also trying to learn to cook because, who knows, maybe one day I will be a “Mrs.” and therefore be required to create edible meals for someone other than my cat. Wishful thinking.

So yesterday I loaded up the bike and drove over to Freedom Trail. Someone at the Capitol mentioned it was a good trail, so I decided to give it a go. It’s true- the Trail is a good one. I rode my spandex-clad behind over every inch of path I could find, tiring myself out after only an hour’s ride. Yes, I am outrageously out of shape- it should be a crime, bearing the same penalty as wearing leggings 24-7 (ahem, Lindsay Lohan). Seeing as how I really could care less about how I look when I grocery shop (a reason I’m perpetually single? Possibly.), I packed up my bike, and took my sweaty, spandex-y self to the grocery store.

At the intersection of Freedom Parkway and Ponce de Leon, the grocery shopper has two options: turn left for Kroger or turn right for Publix. Taking into mind my loathe for the state of Florida, I took a left and went to Kroger, knowing that my old faithful grocery store would not make me regret this decision.

A side note about my Kroger. It’s um, how shall I phrase this, “urban.” It’s between North Avenue (should tell you enough right there) and Ponce de Leon. Its nickname is ‘Murder Kroger’ presumably because they kill competition with low prices. Riiiight. But I still choose to go there because I like to stand brave in the face of fear and support the struggling local national chain store. Plus, it’s frighteningly close to Atlanta’s best pizza joint.

Now here’s where the fun starts. If it’s not toilet paper, milk, or beer, I’m pretty much at a loss when I’m at the grocery store. But the recipe I found was pretty simple: tuna steaks (does that come from a cow-fish!?), spinach, russet potatoes (there is more than one kind of potato? Maybe that’s why Dan Quayle got confused), and shallots. So you can see my dilemma. Amazingly, I managed to get all the ingredients save for the tuna steaks and shallots. Shallots, shallots… I have heard the word before, but are they crackers? Dairy products? Vegetables? Yes, that’s it- vegetable! So, I scour the seemingly infinitesimal veggie section at the Murder Kroger but alas, no shallots. But, maybe this is user error- surely every Kroger sells every ingredient in every recipe. Sadly, there were no shallots at the store, according to the produce manager. Humpf. Ok, whatever- they were just to add to the spinach, I can do without.

Off to the seafood section. Wait, don’t blink. Darn it, you missed it. I turned back around to the glass case with shrimp and crab legs in it, with a jar of capers offered for sale resting on top. “Excuse me, sir? Er, ma’am? (indeterminable gender; I love Atlanta) Do you happen to have tuna steaks?” At this point, the seafood specialist, I’ refer to as “Pat,” looked in the case at the shrimp, then the crab legs, then back at me; “Nope.” Fabulous, Murder Kroger let me down. Now I will have to stop at Publix anyway. Whatever- I am running on the remaining endorphins from my fabulous bike ride, so it’s no big deal. Grudgingly, I get in line to check out with whatever ingredients I could find at Kroger. After waiting behind a seemingly homeless man purchasing a one-liter bottle of mouthwash- it is Sunday after all- I checked out, and headed to the Publix.

At this point, the Borders syndrome is starting to kick in. This delicate little condition is a peculiarity of my body. After 10 minutes in a bookstore (Borders being my book purchasing preference and therefore the name given to this syndrome), the urge to potty kicks in. Apparently, Borders and exercise are the two irritants of this syndrome. But no worries, I can make it…right?

Luck was on mine and my bladder’s side: there was a front row parking spot! In a fully occupied lot! Thank you Lord! This time, I’m not dawdling; I’m going straight to the first person with a Publix shirt and asking where the shallots are. Ta-dah! They were right in front of me and Juan, the produce guy. It’s amazing how inconspicuous these things are- just hanging on a rack in a little mesh bag. I never would have seen them on my own, thanks Juan! Time to head for the tuna steaks, albeit heading very slowly, as it is rather difficult to walk and simultaneously cross your legs. There is no fresh tuna, shoot! Whatever, we’re at Threat-CON Charlie here, so frozen will do. Two steaks, check. Two shallots, check.

The 15 items or less line is short, hooray! There is, however, another vagrant with a bottle of mouthwash. This makes me a stronger supporter of Sunday Sales- at least beer won’t put you in a coma after one bottle. I check out with a quickness, shuffle to the car, and speed home. I barely make it home without embarrassing myself, but at least I made it home.

I didn’t even like the shallots.

Luck makes the world go 'round.

I think I must be the luckiest person in the world, I'm not kidding.

Take for instance, last Friday. I got to ride in a state plane to tour the Augusta Burn Center. I was touring the facility with the people who run Georgia government. I got to see how experiences like that can really affect what we do here under the Gold Dome. It's amazing when you can actually put a human face and emotion to the 'government machine.' And I got to be there!! I love my job.

Rewind to Thursday; a pipe burst in my apartment and flooded mine and 4 other people's apartments. But none of my stuff was damaged, my cat was ok, and I had friends who let me stay at their (posh) condo. I am so blessed! Even today, my apartment isn't fixed, but at least I have shelter there, it's liveable, just not pretty.

Thanks...

The season of Lent is almost upon us, and this year, I've decided to give up negativity and callousness. In that spirit, let me go ahead and list some of the many things I'm grateful for in life.

-Life: first and foremost, how precious is this thing we call 'life'?! Life is proof enough that God is good. Very good. Some people wake up, go to work, go home, and repeat. They miss all the good-and bad- stuff that makes life memorable. I try to find silver linings, and laugh my way through troubles; now I'll make a more concerted effort to appreciate all that life throws at me.

-Family: Whether its normal or dysfunctional, your family is always your family. I am blessed with parents who love me despite my faults and missteps, and grandparents with whom I connect on a very deep level. My family isn't the cookie cutter all-American family, but they're mine and I love them. I need to learn to say "I love you" more to them.

- Friends: Some friends are fair-weather, and others are in for the hurricanes, floods, and mudslides in life. I couldn't be happier to be able to call April my best friend. She is the sweetest, kindest, most humble person I know. Every day I see something in her that inspires me to be a better person. I'm proud that Libby and I are still great friends, especially considering all the, um, crap we've been through and put each other through. I know that Libby knows my heart, and will always give me the advice I need- whether I want to hear it or not.

-Job: I have the greatest job in the world. I couldn't ask for a more sincere, service-driven, humble boss. My co-workers are like family; I feel like I can count on Melanie and Rita for anything. They've offered me advice and love and friendship, and I will owe them forever. I love coming to work; even if I foul up 25 things a day, I have the opportunity to learn from everything. There is ALWAYS something new here, and I'm always learning. I can't believe I get paid for this!

- Health: So many people are in pain and suffering around the world, so I feel very fortunate to be of sound mind and body. My good health is something I don't plan to take for granted again.

- Freedom: I live in a country where I have spiritual, moral, and educational freedom. As long as I don't harm others or myself, I am basically free to make my own choices about basically everything I want. I couldn't imagine not being able to live my life the way I choose. How often Americans fail to realize how amazing democracy is!

I think that about wraps 'er up. I'm sure I'll add as time goes on. But for now- Mangez! Bouvez! C'est Mardi Gras!

Here we are again

It's almost Session time, unbelievable! I'm still flabbergasted that yet another year has come and gone. I'm excited about Session, but I'm feeling horribly ill-prepared.

On another note, I'm also feeling particularly melancholy. It's one of those (seemingly frequent) nights where I'd rather be in a dark theater crying my eyes out over another sappy movie. I went to Chipotle and Borders to lift my spirits, but instead I felt guilty for eating out and ill-educated for not having any interest in philosophical theories.

I feel at home in my car, though. Sometimes driving is the best medicine for me. I suppose it's sad to find comfort in aimlessly wandering around the city with no direction or purpose (uh, hello metaphor for my life). But I'm at ease when I don't have a plan- at least for a couple hours here and there.

I have a profound loneliness in my life; and recently it's become more and more ubiquitous. Sometimes I feel like my loneliness is its own person, riding alongside me on my meandering journeys. I'm expecting to start talking to it soon. I'm an only child, and apparently totally unworthy of a loving boyfriend, so I'm perpetually alone. It's starting to affect me, I think. It's getting to the point that I've created alternate images of me in my head: a version of myself that is more social, more well-rounded, better-educated, and so magnetic a person that she's irresistibly lovable.

Life lately...

This one goes out to my boo, Kathleen. :)

I just got back from Europe, whirlwind trip but totally worth it! I got to Brussels on Thanksgiving Day, which means I got a home-cooked Turkey Day feast courtesy of my folks! Score!! Rich is a fabulous cook: deep fried turkey, world's best mashed 'taters, and stuffing...I can't describe the deliciousness of that stuffing! And Mom hooked me up with a chocolate creme pie. Such a good welcome dinner! :)

Mom's friend Micheline took us around Brussels the next day for a tour, since we've really only seen the airports in that city. It really is a beautiful city with lots of history. And yes, I saw the mannequin pis (the statue of a little boy peeing) . Micheline is such a cool person; she's Belgian so she natively speaks French and Dutch, and learned English and German. She worked with Mom at NATO. I actually emailed her my paper for French class, and she edited for me...so I think I might score an A on that one. :) And trust me, I need the A. Anyway, she and her husband have a gorgeous penthouse in Brussels, and they're very charming hosts. Tom, her husband tried to walk around the city with us, but the cold was affecting his lungs: he has half of a lung removed due to disease a year ago.

On Saturday after Thanksgiving, we planned to drive to Delft to check out the famous pottery, but as we were approaching the gas station in Schinnen (about 10 minutes from the house) the car started making horrible noises... so we pulled into the base and called the Dutch version of AAA. It was only 8:30am so it took them some time to get there. But the car was towed to the BMW store and we had a rental car by noon. So we decided to go to the Christmas Markt in Valkenburg, also close to the house, but as we were eating lunch, the dealership called and said the car was done! We were all kind of dumbfounded that it took so little time! It was only 1:15 at this point. So we hurried our lunch and picked up the car. It was nice...they even cleaned her up a little bit! So Rich went home to study while Mom and I went shopping a little bit in Maastricht.

Sunday was spent just hanging out at home, and enjoying some down time.

Monday morning the folks went to work, so I slept in and packed for France. That afternoon we went to Aachen to the Christmas Markt. I bought a ring made of green amber (from Poland) to match my earrings of the same material (got those in Latvia). Mom bought me a necklace to match, too, but I get that in January. :(

Tuesday morning Rich drove me to the Sittard train station at 5:30am. I took the train into Eindhoven, where the airport is. So I got to Eindhoven and had to take a bus to the airport. The flight was smooth, and arrived early. It was such a different atmosphere when I got off the plane. The weather was nice, the people seemed friendlier, and I could understand the French much better than Dutch! As we were approaching the city, I looked out the window and I fell in love with the city before I even got there. It's very Mediterranean: rocks instead of soil, blanched colors, sparse but beautiful gnarly trees, and wonderfully warm temperatures. I hoped on the bus that lead to the city... it took us to Gare St. Charles, the train station in town. My hostel was just down the road from the gare, but I still got lost because of the construction going on at the gare. I checked in at the hostel and started sightseeing around town. But I have to admit, I was kind of lost since I didn't know what to see, but I was so happy to see some skullers in the Viex Port (city center) rowing in the port!! I visited the tourist office to get my Marseille city pass, but since it was already noon, the lady told me it'd be a waste of money and come back tomorrow to get a whole day out of it. So that's what I did...just walked around until dark, then headed to the hostel. My room was a mixed 4-bed, but it was just me, a Chinese girl, and a French guy. They both spoke French, so I tried to communicate a little..but I suck, really. Anyway, there was some conversation nonetheless. About 8pm that night, an American backpacker came in to take the 4th bed. I was just glad to have an English speaker there. But it turns out that he's kind of a tool.

The next morning I decided to go to Aix-En-Provence for the day, so I got to the train station to catch the city bus up there. It was about 8:30 when we departed, and got to Aix about 9:15. Aix is a really small town, and I think it must be beautiful in the summer. There was not a lot to do outside the normal: museums, sights, etc. So I walked around, and up to Cezanne's atelier, but they were closing for lunch when I got there. So I just kept walking! I literally walked for 7 hours almost nonstop that day! I saw lots of cool typical provencal houses/apartments/buildings. So I got some sweet photos. When it started getting dark, I headed back to the bus station to catch my bus. I made it back to the hostel about 6:30 or 7. I went to the lounge to check my email and hang out to hopefully meet some cool people- that's half the reason for staying at hostels! There were a group of folks chatting at the table, and they were Candian, so I sat down and chatted too. Turns out one girl, Ruth, was actually from New Zealand. Kirk and Jill are newlyweds who are backpacking across Europe for their honeymoon, Ruadhan is an Irish lad backpacking, too. And Forrest, the American from my room is on a gap year and also backpacking. They all decided to go to a bar that night, but I was exhausted and my feet were aching, so I stayed in. I think Ruadhan stayed, too. But Ruth and I decided to meet in the morning and go see some sights together. Oh, and the French speakers vacated my room and two Australian guys were the new residents...but they were the unfriendliest Australians ever! They looked at me like I was an idiot when I invited to join us downstairs. Whatever...jerks.

So the next morning, Ruth and I met in the lounge about 8:30 for breakfast and then we headed to the tourist office so I could get my city pass. Pass in hand, we decided to do one of three self-guided walking tours. That took about an hour, but it was cool to know what we were looking at! It was 10:15 at this point, and we needed to be back at the Viex Port at 10:30 for our boatride to the Ile d'If. This is a little island with a castle/prison. It's famous because the The Count of Monte Cristo and The Man in the Iron Mask are based there. The boat ride was cool, and even in November, the Mediterranean is so inviting. I almost wanted to jump in and swim around. But, I didn't... my health insurance didn't kick in until December 1st! :) Anyway, Forrest and the Australians showed up on our ride, too. But the Aussies were still rude, but Forrest joined us and we were a little trio. The island was cool, but we were starnded there until the next boat, which was 12:35pm. So we took lots of pictures, and chatted for a while. Forrest is only 18, but thinks he knows everything.. I guess we were all like that at one point though. So Ruth (my age, and an attorney) tried to just shrug off his idealiztic chatter. It really didn't bother me that much, but I could tell Ruth was so unnerved. When the boat came to pick us up, we all separated to grab lunch and agreed to meet at the hostel in about 30 minutes (I needed a new memory card for my camera, Ruth had lunch in the fridge, and Forrest just didn't have anything else to do). So when we got there, Ruadhan had just woken up and was looking to go out. So we invited him; but he and Forrest decided to stay at the hostel so Ruth and I went back out to see the sights. We went to a couple cathedrals, a few museums, and some more walking tours. When it got dark, we headed back to the hostel (it's called Vertigo, so I'll use that from now on). We met up with the Candadians as they were headed out; they booked a train to Italy and were checking out. So, our little foursome decided to go grab dinner. There is a famous soup in Provence called Bouillabase, and I wanted to try some (it's a fish soup), but all the places had it for 30 EURO or more, so we nixed that idea fast. I could have afforded it easily, but the others were on a budget, so I decided not to push it. Forrest wanted to go to a tapas restuarant he saw the night before that was near the bar. Ruth is a magnificent navigator, so we all just followed her...but Forrest kept saying "I think you're wrong, this isn't the right direction" but we shrugged it off. She got us back to the bar in like 15 minutes, so she obviously wasn't lost. So once we got to that area, it was up to Forrest to find the tapas bar again... and he did after he asked directions (I know, amazng that a man asked for directions!). We opened the door to the joint and it was a full room of smoke. Ruth and I immediately retreated, it was sickeningly full of smoke. Hazy, even. But Forrest grabbed a table on the back patio, so we decided to stay since there was no smoke out there. We started discussing politics and the world...it's amazing how the other countries really know what's happening in the States. Ruadhan was disgusted when I told him I worked for a Republican. Disgusted might be too harsh a word, but he was suprised about it. Ruth did a dissertation on American politics, so she was pretty well-versed. They all disapproved of Bush, and really like Obama. They dislike Rudy Giulani, though. Conversation changed to hunting and human nature, etc. Forrest, in all his idealism started lecturing us on the ways of man and the animalistic urges we have and why hunting is justified, yaddah yaddah. (note of reference here: I don't like hunting...unless it's necessary. I think killing should not be a sport, and it isn't really necessary since we have cattle farms now). Anyway, Ruth had had enough of Forrest, so she and I were joking about him as we walked back to Vertigo!

Oh, before we went to dinner, Ruth and I grabbed some snacks at a grocery store and we split the price of a bottle of Pastis, the drink of Provence. So, we shared it with the guys. It was so gross...like licorace. Anyway, it's a drink you're supposed to mix with water or a grenadine. Having neither, we mixed it with Orangina Rouge... my favorite drink! It was still unbearable- except to Ruadhan who downed an entire glass! Leave it to the Irish, right? So, we did a little bonding over that drink, a little chatting. Ruadhan is so hilarious! Ruth and I were crying basically.

The next day, Friday, was my last day in Marseille, so I got up early to use the rest of my city pass. I saw more museums, more sights, all that jazz. I checked out of Vertigo and headed to the airport for my 7:15 flight. I made it back through Eindhoven, the bus, the train, and back to the house around midnight.

Saturday, we headed to Koln for the Christmas markt. It was really fun, because there was so much to do there, and it was based in front of the cathedral that was built for Charlemagne. This thing took 600 years to finish! Mom and I bought more gifts, too. There's a winter drink in the Netherlands and Germany called Gluhwein, which is a warm mulled red wine (rock sugar optional) Mom and Rich love it, but it's a little strong for me, so I usually opt for hot chocolate. But, in honor of my last day in Europe (and to drink a cup for my friend Lee, as promised) I got a glass of it. We sipped it and took pictures of the markt, and just hung out a little, and got a break from the enormous crowd (mostly British, ironically). The whole day, all I could smell was the bratwurst...and almost every other booth was a wurst stand! So, as we rounded the last corner, Rich and I couldn't help ourselves! Each of us got a bratwusrt mit brochen... mine was the white kind (don't know what it's called...not a wurst expert!) and it was so yummy!!It was the perfect close of my European Thanksgiving!


That night, Rich cooked his renowned lime chicken. We watched "Mr. Bean's Vacation" which was a great comparison to my trip to Marseille! Saturday night was a good night of family bonding and relaxing. And the dog got lots of scraps!

Sunday was a travel day.... I left the house at 8:30am (2:30am US time), drove to the airport, flew to DC-Dulles, then transfered to ATL, hopped on MARTA and got home around 7:30pm (1:30 am the next morning NL time!)

Next year Mom and Rich want to do Egypt or South Africa for Thanksgiving...

And now, I'm here. :) Hope y'all had a great holiday!