This is another themed post.
Theme: What I've found interesting during my travels (and thus I hope you do to. I've been told I have odd ideas regarding interesting things... so at least you will hopefully be interested in why I'm interested in such weird and "interesting" things.)
Things:
1) I'm living currently next to the big Garden of Nantes. Inside said garden hundreds of people roam. I saw a woman playing the accordion, a grown man riding a child's scooter, and was followed by more than five children after I smiled at them. Their mothers shouted after them "ne la suivent!" Which means "don't follow her!"
I am a fairly dangerous person, you know. I have my ceinture noir (black belt).
2) I insist on placing my bread on my plate. This is apparently weird because at restaurants you have a wee little plate for bread, and at home, you just put it on the table. I said the table was dirty. Now it is my job to clean the table. Host Family- 1 Marielle- 0.
3) Everyone here takes the public transport. With my handy dandy University card, I can have all the money for my meals, traveling and sports activites ON THIS CARD. It's incredible. I mention this every single time I talk about my card. Which is often.
4) There are over 500 students signed up for the course at the University that I'm going to take. Only about 300 will actually enroll. Although apparently the majority is female (hey ladies), there is a record number of men this year (sup dudes). Hopefully I can make some friends of the dudely gender.
5) YOU CAN DANCE TO THE ROCK AND ROLL! They have all these awesomely planned out parties for all the youngfolk where you go and dance to the rock and roll with a real official dance (like tango or salsa). My host siblings have promised to take me. I'm excited.
6) It is open season on the hapless American. I am laughed at constantly. At first it was tough, and I struggled, but now I just laugh when other people do silly things. And it's all okay.
7) If people talk about the FAC (it sounds like another word when said with a french accent) anymore I'm going to cry with laughter. This FAC thing has to do with university. So far I haven't been able to stop laughing long enough.
8) Men here are stylish (and not branded as gay). The dudes know how to dress here, may I just say. I wish the US would drop the connotation, because seeing men wearing clothes that actually fit and look good is a revelation.
9) Nantes is awesome. You should come here sometime.
10) I HAD MY FIRST DREAM IN FRENCH. I was lost in a train station and was trying to find my squirrel. I was having lots of trouble pronouncing "écureuil" and so resorted to asking for my "small furry animal."
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
Monday, August 29, 2011
Busting a rib or two
Brace yourself, you may cry with laughter. Or maybe this is just my own brand of humor, but I busted a least one rib laughing over two of the stories I'm about to tell you.
But first, regular updates. After all, one takes the main meal before the dessert (and it is a whopper).
My swiss friend came from Tours for the weekend to visit before he goes to Bordeaux. He brought with him 99% chocolate which blew the roof of my mouth off. Apparently one needs to start with 75% and then 85% before progressing to what feels like pure cocoa... Oh wait... It is.
We also made jam and picked blackberries, hopped over farmer fences and generally got blonder and tanner. It was good to be blonde company, what with all these brunettes running around France. And fake blondes. All this dye cramps my natural style.
Swiss friend and I dabbled in a tango lesson on Sunday evening, but most of what I learned in that in the tango one must "fait la resistance." And the dude gets to choose which direction and what happens the whole time. It feels a little like a really romantic game of rugby. When we switched partners everytime it was difficult to adjust. This is partially because I am shorter than all the women who were there and not used to resisting quite that forcefully. I think I may prefer my salsa dancing for now. More room to move.
We also learned in our Island Paradises educational program that all the cows in Cuba are owned by the government and thusly you can only get a burger at a public restaurant. At least that's what I think they said.
And now for Les Grandes Histories
Story #1
So when my family was still staying chez Grandparents, my Granny bought a bunch of food and drinks for us, to suit our "American tastes." A particular drink, by the name of Passion Pattana, was Shporty's favorite, especially mixed with a bit of water, as it was very fruity. Flash forward a week when my swiss friend was staying with us. We are eating and generally enjoying the meal when he was offered some of said Passion drink. He then pointed out that it is 15% alcohol.
Which is more than beer and about the same as sherry.
<:-O
Granny's shocked reaction to her covert attempt at turning her 11 nearly 12 grandson into an alcoholic...
"I didn't have my glasses on."
She'd also tried to get the poor child to finish the bottle, encouraging him to "drink it all up."
Story #2
The next meal we heard that Grunkle had received a letter from his rather extravagant cousin. This cousin has been married more times than my very-good-at-counting-grandparents can remember. He frequently plans expensive parties on the bankroll of his current wife. So it is natural for him to think that he might need some help... And thus he sent a letter hereby appointing Sir Grunkle as his chief of staff.
We spent the rest of the day coming up with the appropriate way to refuse such an honor. And finding ways to poke fun at said Chief of Staff.
Me: You have some crumbs in your beard Grunkle.
Grunkle: Do I?
Granny: The chief of staff cannot be looking scruffy!
And so forth. I wish someone would appoint me their chief of staff, if only so I could write a pompous letter in return kindly refusing such a grand offer.
Please vote on the left whether he should take this job or not.
Life is more exciting when you live with your grandparents (or at least those like mine).
Nantes has been taken by storm.
I met my host family today, but under the Foster Secrecy Treaty enacted this morning I will refrain from taking the mickey out of them. Besides, they are WONDERFUL and FUN and WELCOMING. Honestly, there is not another family I would be more happy to live with in Nantes right now. I am very lucky and grateful to those who set it up!
I hope you found these stories as funny as I did.
But first, regular updates. After all, one takes the main meal before the dessert (and it is a whopper).
My swiss friend came from Tours for the weekend to visit before he goes to Bordeaux. He brought with him 99% chocolate which blew the roof of my mouth off. Apparently one needs to start with 75% and then 85% before progressing to what feels like pure cocoa... Oh wait... It is.
We also made jam and picked blackberries, hopped over farmer fences and generally got blonder and tanner. It was good to be blonde company, what with all these brunettes running around France. And fake blondes. All this dye cramps my natural style.
Swiss friend and I dabbled in a tango lesson on Sunday evening, but most of what I learned in that in the tango one must "fait la resistance." And the dude gets to choose which direction and what happens the whole time. It feels a little like a really romantic game of rugby. When we switched partners everytime it was difficult to adjust. This is partially because I am shorter than all the women who were there and not used to resisting quite that forcefully. I think I may prefer my salsa dancing for now. More room to move.
We also learned in our Island Paradises educational program that all the cows in Cuba are owned by the government and thusly you can only get a burger at a public restaurant. At least that's what I think they said.
And now for Les Grandes Histories
Story #1
So when my family was still staying chez Grandparents, my Granny bought a bunch of food and drinks for us, to suit our "American tastes." A particular drink, by the name of Passion Pattana, was Shporty's favorite, especially mixed with a bit of water, as it was very fruity. Flash forward a week when my swiss friend was staying with us. We are eating and generally enjoying the meal when he was offered some of said Passion drink. He then pointed out that it is 15% alcohol.
Which is more than beer and about the same as sherry.
<:-O
Granny's shocked reaction to her covert attempt at turning her 11 nearly 12 grandson into an alcoholic...
"I didn't have my glasses on."
She'd also tried to get the poor child to finish the bottle, encouraging him to "drink it all up."
Story #2
The next meal we heard that Grunkle had received a letter from his rather extravagant cousin. This cousin has been married more times than my very-good-at-counting-grandparents can remember. He frequently plans expensive parties on the bankroll of his current wife. So it is natural for him to think that he might need some help... And thus he sent a letter hereby appointing Sir Grunkle as his chief of staff.
We spent the rest of the day coming up with the appropriate way to refuse such an honor. And finding ways to poke fun at said Chief of Staff.
Me: You have some crumbs in your beard Grunkle.
Grunkle: Do I?
Granny: The chief of staff cannot be looking scruffy!
And so forth. I wish someone would appoint me their chief of staff, if only so I could write a pompous letter in return kindly refusing such a grand offer.
Please vote on the left whether he should take this job or not.
Life is more exciting when you live with your grandparents (or at least those like mine).
Nantes has been taken by storm.
I met my host family today, but under the Foster Secrecy Treaty enacted this morning I will refrain from taking the mickey out of them. Besides, they are WONDERFUL and FUN and WELCOMING. Honestly, there is not another family I would be more happy to live with in Nantes right now. I am very lucky and grateful to those who set it up!
I hope you found these stories as funny as I did.
Saturday, August 27, 2011
Granny Update
(We are typing away, updating our lives)
Marielle: Granny, did you know you grind your teeth in time with your typing?
Granny: Do I? How disgusting.
Marielle: It's rather amusing.
Granny: I shall observe you and find something dreadful and tell everyone.
Marielle: Granny, did you know you grind your teeth in time with your typing?
Granny: Do I? How disgusting.
Marielle: It's rather amusing.
Granny: I shall observe you and find something dreadful and tell everyone.
Butterflies in My Tummy
Geee I'm nervous.
I'm starting university in a country where I can barely speak the language (not barely, but on a scale of one to brilliant, I'm a five).
On Wednesday I enroll. I'm moving in with another family for 3.5 months on Monday, signing myself up for tango classes, getting a train pass, working my way around one of the best public transportation systems in the world and trying not to explode from all the good food I've been eating. I've got to manage to pronounce things correctly (they've got this terrible habit of making normal words sound EXACTLY like swear words. I get laughed at all the time.) and learn as fast as I can so I can do fun things. Like do the tango and go to the French cinema and take advantage of all these seriously awesome discounts they give us studious ones. Nantes takes culture SERIOUSLY and so every thursday-sunday we have these big parties campus wide where you can entertain yourself with theatre, dance, clubbing, making friends and hundreds of other things.
It's days like these I want to hold someone's hand and have a responsibilibuddy to tell me what to do. Is this what it is like, being an adult?
At least there is a Jules Verne museum, so I can go enjoy science fiction and look adorable in the nautical pattern that was originated here. And there is pretty much the only Indian restaurant in all of France in Nantes (the French aren't generally so keen on spicy food). You can even get a crepe with your curry.
And my grandparents live a hour away by train or car, I've got wonderful friends nearby, headache medecine is subsidized for students (when you are learning another language, it is rather necessary, or even just a good nights sleep).
Plus I've got all these fantastique people from this place called Minnesota who send me funny emails and encourage me. So it's not all scary. It's just a little scary right before you go be independent.
Grunkle was telling me about how when he was seven he was put on a train with a ticket around his neck that read where he was supposed to get off. He then was shipped off to boarding school and was largely independent until he left (at which point he was completely independent). At least I'm a decade older and the only ticket around my neck is one I signed up for.
I'm starting university in a country where I can barely speak the language (not barely, but on a scale of one to brilliant, I'm a five).
On Wednesday I enroll. I'm moving in with another family for 3.5 months on Monday, signing myself up for tango classes, getting a train pass, working my way around one of the best public transportation systems in the world and trying not to explode from all the good food I've been eating. I've got to manage to pronounce things correctly (they've got this terrible habit of making normal words sound EXACTLY like swear words. I get laughed at all the time.) and learn as fast as I can so I can do fun things. Like do the tango and go to the French cinema and take advantage of all these seriously awesome discounts they give us studious ones. Nantes takes culture SERIOUSLY and so every thursday-sunday we have these big parties campus wide where you can entertain yourself with theatre, dance, clubbing, making friends and hundreds of other things.
It's days like these I want to hold someone's hand and have a responsibilibuddy to tell me what to do. Is this what it is like, being an adult?
At least there is a Jules Verne museum, so I can go enjoy science fiction and look adorable in the nautical pattern that was originated here. And there is pretty much the only Indian restaurant in all of France in Nantes (the French aren't generally so keen on spicy food). You can even get a crepe with your curry.
And my grandparents live a hour away by train or car, I've got wonderful friends nearby, headache medecine is subsidized for students (when you are learning another language, it is rather necessary, or even just a good nights sleep).
Plus I've got all these fantastique people from this place called Minnesota who send me funny emails and encourage me. So it's not all scary. It's just a little scary right before you go be independent.
Grunkle was telling me about how when he was seven he was put on a train with a ticket around his neck that read where he was supposed to get off. He then was shipped off to boarding school and was largely independent until he left (at which point he was completely independent). At least I'm a decade older and the only ticket around my neck is one I signed up for.
Thursday, August 25, 2011
These are a few of my favorite things.
This is a THEMED POST.
Yes, it is exciting.
But first, a quick clear up. I have no internets at my house for the next few days and then I go to stay with my host family. I just have to haul all my gear to the tech center everytime I want to send an email.
Thank you Aditi for the concern :)
My Favorite Things
1) All the veggies I eat here. They (my royal grandparents) feed me the freshest stuff here. I actually eat green things (not just carrots, as I usually do). The only carrot I've eaten here was purple.
2) My Grandparents Bickering. Prime example
Granny: You know the only phrase Grunkle speaks of Spanish?
Grunkle: "No tengo dinaro, mi amiga paga." (I have no money, my friend will pay, roughly speaking)
Granny: So he uses this on me every time we go somewhere Spanish speaking.
Grunkle: My moneybags wife here.
Granny: So I'm learning how to say "No she effing won't."
3) Being called "La Bomba Blonde" at the cafe by a rather creepy customer. Also having all these old dudes bring along their teenager sons and encourage them to hit on me (they don't). This is my favorite thing only because it is amusing. It's not my favorite thing past the first time it happens.
4) Hearing the phrase "You are a menace to civilization" as part of normal breakfast conversing.
5) The FOOD. I eat macaroons like it is my business. I drink melted hot chocolate by the tea cup. Ham sandwiches have never been so enjoyed. And these things called Koigna manns are positively the best way to gain a lot of weight. Luckily my slave drivers keep me busy and well exercised.
6) Breakfast. This has always been my favorite thing. If you are looking for a mind bogglingly cheerful person in the morning to make you breakfast and give you a backrub and explain how awesome you are, look no further.
7) Market day. And really cheap underwear. And Grunkle running around explaining he is having a sex change due to some hormone blocking pills for his cancer treatment. Better laughing than crying, although we all cry from laughing so hard when he pretends to have a hot flash. And this morning when he explained he wanted to dress up as a lady to send photos to my father. Luckily we distracted him by saying there was an army of rabbits in the garden.
8) Mole treatment. The best way to get rid of moles is to pee down their holes and on them. The best way to get rid of ANYONE? Pee on them. Grunkle said he attended a workshop on how to get rid of moles and when he explained that you should just pee on them, the teacher blanched. And then said "but if you do that, they will go over to your neighbors."
I drove the stickshift car all the way to Nivillac. I only stalled once and got into all the gears and didn't hit ANYTHING. Take that, you-oh-so-loyal-friends-and-family.
Yes, it is exciting.
But first, a quick clear up. I have no internets at my house for the next few days and then I go to stay with my host family. I just have to haul all my gear to the tech center everytime I want to send an email.
Thank you Aditi for the concern :)
My Favorite Things
1) All the veggies I eat here. They (my royal grandparents) feed me the freshest stuff here. I actually eat green things (not just carrots, as I usually do). The only carrot I've eaten here was purple.
2) My Grandparents Bickering. Prime example
Granny: You know the only phrase Grunkle speaks of Spanish?
Grunkle: "No tengo dinaro, mi amiga paga." (I have no money, my friend will pay, roughly speaking)
Granny: So he uses this on me every time we go somewhere Spanish speaking.
Grunkle: My moneybags wife here.
Granny: So I'm learning how to say "No she effing won't."
3) Being called "La Bomba Blonde" at the cafe by a rather creepy customer. Also having all these old dudes bring along their teenager sons and encourage them to hit on me (they don't). This is my favorite thing only because it is amusing. It's not my favorite thing past the first time it happens.
4) Hearing the phrase "You are a menace to civilization" as part of normal breakfast conversing.
5) The FOOD. I eat macaroons like it is my business. I drink melted hot chocolate by the tea cup. Ham sandwiches have never been so enjoyed. And these things called Koigna manns are positively the best way to gain a lot of weight. Luckily my slave drivers keep me busy and well exercised.
6) Breakfast. This has always been my favorite thing. If you are looking for a mind bogglingly cheerful person in the morning to make you breakfast and give you a backrub and explain how awesome you are, look no further.
7) Market day. And really cheap underwear. And Grunkle running around explaining he is having a sex change due to some hormone blocking pills for his cancer treatment. Better laughing than crying, although we all cry from laughing so hard when he pretends to have a hot flash. And this morning when he explained he wanted to dress up as a lady to send photos to my father. Luckily we distracted him by saying there was an army of rabbits in the garden.
8) Mole treatment. The best way to get rid of moles is to pee down their holes and on them. The best way to get rid of ANYONE? Pee on them. Grunkle said he attended a workshop on how to get rid of moles and when he explained that you should just pee on them, the teacher blanched. And then said "but if you do that, they will go over to your neighbors."
I drove the stickshift car all the way to Nivillac. I only stalled once and got into all the gears and didn't hit ANYTHING. Take that, you-oh-so-loyal-friends-and-family.
Feeding The Waterfowl Makes the Water Foul!
Today we had the Marché in La Roche Bernard, and so Granny and I were shopping companions, happily galavanting down cobbled streets. Mrs. Granny Peppa bought the household a wallet and we then spent a happy half hour examining some of the finer garments in life... Or undergarments. They certainly make them very different from in the states.
It's been raining today but we still managed to have a nice walk around the countrified bits and a pique-nique. I gave a very stern lecture to my misbehaving about how feeding the waterfowl makes the water foul. Despite this, the soft hearted granny felt the need to fatten up a teenage duck. Lordy loo.
Excellent convo from last night (NO DOCUMENTARY SHOCKINGLY ENOUGH). We have just finished up dinner and are prepping for the dessert course.
Granny Peppa: I'm just going to go change, is that alright?
Grunkle: Yeah, will you go put on something sexy?
Granny: No... Yes... What?
Poor confused Peppa.
No more internets for the next week+half sadly.
I have to say, my favorite thing so far about France has been living with another generation. Too often, I see people my own age as falling into the ageist trap of thinking of old as incapable or rigid. The reverse often goes for the elder generation. Nothing has taught me more respect for my elders than engaging them in lively debate and how completely YOUNG they act. Yes we have completely opposite opinions on many political issues and can argue for hours. But I am constantly impressed by how willing they are to listen to me and my opinions, and as such it has taught me to be more open. Grandparents have been a huge blessing in my life, and I am eternally grateful for them and their jokes which would make a teenager blush.
It's been raining today but we still managed to have a nice walk around the countrified bits and a pique-nique. I gave a very stern lecture to my misbehaving about how feeding the waterfowl makes the water foul. Despite this, the soft hearted granny felt the need to fatten up a teenage duck. Lordy loo.
Excellent convo from last night (NO DOCUMENTARY SHOCKINGLY ENOUGH). We have just finished up dinner and are prepping for the dessert course.
Granny Peppa: I'm just going to go change, is that alright?
Grunkle: Yeah, will you go put on something sexy?
Granny: No... Yes... What?
Poor confused Peppa.
No more internets for the next week+half sadly.
I have to say, my favorite thing so far about France has been living with another generation. Too often, I see people my own age as falling into the ageist trap of thinking of old as incapable or rigid. The reverse often goes for the elder generation. Nothing has taught me more respect for my elders than engaging them in lively debate and how completely YOUNG they act. Yes we have completely opposite opinions on many political issues and can argue for hours. But I am constantly impressed by how willing they are to listen to me and my opinions, and as such it has taught me to be more open. Grandparents have been a huge blessing in my life, and I am eternally grateful for them and their jokes which would make a teenager blush.
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
France Tellycom and The Marseillaise
PLEEEEEASE COMMENT! It's easy now!
When Grunkle gave us the news that France Tellycom and their electriciens couldn't come until a week from Friday to fix our internets, we were a little surprised. Apparently, this was a VERRY big storm that knocked out all power.
So how did Grunkle demonstrate the Frenchie-ness of the bureaucratic mess? By singing the marseillaise. It was great.
This is going to be lightning fast as I only have 10 minutes and 35 seconds to type the last two days of notes. You complain about my typing, I send you a French dungbomb. And the taxes for buying the dungbomb and it's social security and the taxes on its taxes.
First of all, to my French Teachers a HUGE thank you for making me do verb tenses until I wanted to cry. The crying was less fun, but actually being able to speak in a tense other than the present is GREAT. Two things you should know.
-Comme ci comme ca is NOT OLD FASHIONED. People still say it (young, hip, cool people too)
-Same with Choette. Choette is an awesome word, since it means "cool" and "awesome." And when it is choette, it is CHOETTE.
We had a massive storm two nights ago which ate our internets whole sadly. I sleep in the top-most bedroom and as things were getting struck by lightning right next to us, I thought I'd better go downstairs to avoid getting killed. Was greeted by a trembling granny and Grunkle. They soon fell asleep, and started snoring. So I tried to leave, but locked myself in their walk in closet for 5 minutes. And then I went to sleep in my bedroom. Where lightning struck the internet.
We made jam yesterday! Blackberry sauvage (wild) and apricots!
Me: Granny?
GP: Yes My sweet?
Me: Are apricots fibrous?
GP: Yes rather... Why?
Me: I've eaten nine so far today.
GP: NINE?
Me: Or ten. They are so tasty.
They are so so so tasty. I've only eaten four today, all during breakfast.
We speak an odd language in this household. Ganomies (gnomes) and hellycopters abound, ahhhhpricots are eaten left and right (or eaten right and left in the wastebasket.) Granny also has a habit of asking every three minutes, "are you sure?" So now when she gives directions, Grunkenstein and I chorus, "Are you sure?" Poor lady.
yesterday at the taste of happiness I also had an elderly gentleman talk to me about the US. At the end of our rather odd convo in which he recalled all the women he dated in "Le Californie" he said (translated), "I'm glad they still make them cute over there." Thanks :)
Grandparent quote of the day:
Granny: Why don't we have a non-arguing day today?
Grunkle: It's not me that argues all the time, it's you!
In a nutshell, their marriage.
Grandparent/Grandchild quote of the Day:
Grunkle: I'm very misunderstood don't you think?
Me: And you're very loved, so that's two good things going for you!
Enjoy your internet, cause I don't have any!
When Grunkle gave us the news that France Tellycom and their electriciens couldn't come until a week from Friday to fix our internets, we were a little surprised. Apparently, this was a VERRY big storm that knocked out all power.
So how did Grunkle demonstrate the Frenchie-ness of the bureaucratic mess? By singing the marseillaise. It was great.
This is going to be lightning fast as I only have 10 minutes and 35 seconds to type the last two days of notes. You complain about my typing, I send you a French dungbomb. And the taxes for buying the dungbomb and it's social security and the taxes on its taxes.
First of all, to my French Teachers a HUGE thank you for making me do verb tenses until I wanted to cry. The crying was less fun, but actually being able to speak in a tense other than the present is GREAT. Two things you should know.
-Comme ci comme ca is NOT OLD FASHIONED. People still say it (young, hip, cool people too)
-Same with Choette. Choette is an awesome word, since it means "cool" and "awesome." And when it is choette, it is CHOETTE.
We had a massive storm two nights ago which ate our internets whole sadly. I sleep in the top-most bedroom and as things were getting struck by lightning right next to us, I thought I'd better go downstairs to avoid getting killed. Was greeted by a trembling granny and Grunkle. They soon fell asleep, and started snoring. So I tried to leave, but locked myself in their walk in closet for 5 minutes. And then I went to sleep in my bedroom. Where lightning struck the internet.
We made jam yesterday! Blackberry sauvage (wild) and apricots!
Me: Granny?
GP: Yes My sweet?
Me: Are apricots fibrous?
GP: Yes rather... Why?
Me: I've eaten nine so far today.
GP: NINE?
Me: Or ten. They are so tasty.
They are so so so tasty. I've only eaten four today, all during breakfast.
We speak an odd language in this household. Ganomies (gnomes) and hellycopters abound, ahhhhpricots are eaten left and right (or eaten right and left in the wastebasket.) Granny also has a habit of asking every three minutes, "are you sure?" So now when she gives directions, Grunkenstein and I chorus, "Are you sure?" Poor lady.
yesterday at the taste of happiness I also had an elderly gentleman talk to me about the US. At the end of our rather odd convo in which he recalled all the women he dated in "Le Californie" he said (translated), "I'm glad they still make them cute over there." Thanks :)
Grandparent quote of the day:
Granny: Why don't we have a non-arguing day today?
Grunkle: It's not me that argues all the time, it's you!
In a nutshell, their marriage.
Grandparent/Grandchild quote of the Day:
Grunkle: I'm very misunderstood don't you think?
Me: And you're very loved, so that's two good things going for you!
Enjoy your internet, cause I don't have any!
Monday, August 22, 2011
Blackberries and Manual Transmission.
Today was a small rev in car history and a big roar in mine. I SUCCESSFULLY drove on main roads 7 km there and then another back, up hill and dale, doing hill starts, grocery store parking and awkward beginnings. All that, and only seven times did I kill it. Boom. I drove for over an hour, my first time using gears 2-5, prioritaire a droite (if you're coming from the right and over the age of 50, you don't stop for nuffin).
I also picked 1.1 kgs of blackberries with the grandparents (they had .78 and 1.03 respectively).
As we were ambling back home to make jam...
Me: Look! There's a huge fallen tree.
Granny: Yep, Grunkle pushed it over.
This was a very big tree, so I was confused. The real story is only slightly less impressive, so I'll let you believe this one.
I had leftover pizza and sour grape crumble for a late breakfast. It was thrilling.
Other than that, my day was marked only by drinks with our neighbors from Morocco and an evening of watching the most nerve wracking documentary about all these pastry chefs making giant sugar sculptures that break at the last minute in from of the judges. And then they cry.
I also picked 1.1 kgs of blackberries with the grandparents (they had .78 and 1.03 respectively).
As we were ambling back home to make jam...
Me: Look! There's a huge fallen tree.
Granny: Yep, Grunkle pushed it over.
This was a very big tree, so I was confused. The real story is only slightly less impressive, so I'll let you believe this one.
I had leftover pizza and sour grape crumble for a late breakfast. It was thrilling.
Other than that, my day was marked only by drinks with our neighbors from Morocco and an evening of watching the most nerve wracking documentary about all these pastry chefs making giant sugar sculptures that break at the last minute in from of the judges. And then they cry.
Sunday, August 21, 2011
Bouncing Round La Baule
Granny: I'm just going to be sitting quietly in the back, a not-speaking granny.
Grunkle: That's the untruth of the century.
Granny: Hey! That's no way to treat a nice little granny.
This was the exchange which kicked off our road trip to La Baule, the largest beach in all of Europe, and one of the most beautiful. Before leaving was marked only by me trying a new food, toast with green gauge jam. It was orange colored, and tasty.
On our drive out we saw Hercules, the shetland pony, and played a really scary game called "Will we make it?"
Rules of Will we Make it:
1) Do something vaguely risky in a car.
2) Shout, "Will we make it?"
3) Make it.
This little town has a very particular style and attitude. Whenever Granny or Grunkle finds an example of the quintessential town-ie-ness, they remark, "That is SO La Baule." I kid you not.
An entire pack of ladies wearing matching floral body suits? So La Baule.
Putting up a wall around your house to protect the privacy of your "swimming tub?" So La Baule.
Every single restaurant having cute waiters? Pretty much fantastic.
Unfortunately/Fortunately I am chained to my loyal Grandparents, who are holding out for a gentleman with a yacht. Who is in my age range. In the meantime I am the slave de la garden, toiling away in the rather crappy weather Brittany has had of late.
But I don't dwell on this.
Today in La Baule was the SALES day, where all the stores take the stuff they didn't sell this summer and price for way less in little stalls outside. It's pretty great. I got some poufy pants and a floaty dress, and a hat that is ADORABLE.
The beach was great, very sunny and unpopulated. The afternoon was punctuated only by my book being confiscated for dinner and dinosaurs. We are watching as I type a documentary (I watched this already with Shporty in English) about dinos. The wise elders currently sit entralled by the adventures and near-death experiences of the soon-to-be-extinct Oscar the herbivore. I think this is a plot by the documentarians to get you to sympa with the scaley thing by naming it. All he does is eat leaves and piss off the "Gargantuas" or T-Rex's. I have higher standards for my dinosaurs.
Grandparent quote of the day:
Me: You seem to share the housework very well.
Granny: We do. Grunk is very good.
Grunkle: No I'm not! I'm very bad.
Granny: Ah, quite right, you're very bad.
Grandparent good deed of the day:
Grunkle fetching water for this sweet little 5 year old who needed her watering can refilled every couple of minutes from the sea. Back breaking work.
Grunkle: That's the untruth of the century.
Granny: Hey! That's no way to treat a nice little granny.
This was the exchange which kicked off our road trip to La Baule, the largest beach in all of Europe, and one of the most beautiful. Before leaving was marked only by me trying a new food, toast with green gauge jam. It was orange colored, and tasty.
On our drive out we saw Hercules, the shetland pony, and played a really scary game called "Will we make it?"
Rules of Will we Make it:
1) Do something vaguely risky in a car.
2) Shout, "Will we make it?"
3) Make it.
This little town has a very particular style and attitude. Whenever Granny or Grunkle finds an example of the quintessential town-ie-ness, they remark, "That is SO La Baule." I kid you not.
An entire pack of ladies wearing matching floral body suits? So La Baule.
Putting up a wall around your house to protect the privacy of your "swimming tub?" So La Baule.
Every single restaurant having cute waiters? Pretty much fantastic.
Unfortunately/Fortunately I am chained to my loyal Grandparents, who are holding out for a gentleman with a yacht. Who is in my age range. In the meantime I am the slave de la garden, toiling away in the rather crappy weather Brittany has had of late.
But I don't dwell on this.
Today in La Baule was the SALES day, where all the stores take the stuff they didn't sell this summer and price for way less in little stalls outside. It's pretty great. I got some poufy pants and a floaty dress, and a hat that is ADORABLE.
The beach was great, very sunny and unpopulated. The afternoon was punctuated only by my book being confiscated for dinner and dinosaurs. We are watching as I type a documentary (I watched this already with Shporty in English) about dinos. The wise elders currently sit entralled by the adventures and near-death experiences of the soon-to-be-extinct Oscar the herbivore. I think this is a plot by the documentarians to get you to sympa with the scaley thing by naming it. All he does is eat leaves and piss off the "Gargantuas" or T-Rex's. I have higher standards for my dinosaurs.
Grandparent quote of the day:
Me: You seem to share the housework very well.
Granny: We do. Grunk is very good.
Grunkle: No I'm not! I'm very bad.
Granny: Ah, quite right, you're very bad.
Grandparent good deed of the day:
Grunkle fetching water for this sweet little 5 year old who needed her watering can refilled every couple of minutes from the sea. Back breaking work.
Saturday, August 20, 2011
Goodbye Parents, Hello Gap Year!
The best quote so far came from breakfast today. My Granny Peppa, the usual font of wisdom and sass, came out with this one.
"People who fight over the little things tend to agree on the big ones."
This is essentially my relationship with my entire family. We squabble, whine, bicker and argue, but when it really gets down to it, we are of one mind. The same is with Granny and her beloved Grunkle. I've never heard an argument over when to change the water in the flower pots for a half an hour before. Or a seriously heated discussion over how one ought to attend to the toaster whilst it does its business. But I learn things everyday, mainly..
a) do not mess with Grunkle's vegetable garden
b) chlorine turning one's hair green isn't a good excuse for not swimming in the pool.
c) Lifting anything will give me back problems.
d) do not hit croquet balls off the croquet lawn and into the veg garden.
Today we visited the fairy rock, which was surrounded by ominous messages in French about how if you vandalize the place, the fairies will get you. We saw no vandalism. Or vandalisers for that matter.
My family left me today, gone back to the United States. Our first motion passed (my Grandparents and I) was to convene over a lunch of cake, ice cream and orange juice. When Grunkle complained about the lack of veggies, he was told sternly to "take what you've got and be grateful." Quite right.
As Granny says, Grunkle is completely bone from the neck up (not) and is "just arm candy and great for carrying things" (and gardening).
Speaking of not so stupid people, I've found it very amusing when people disagree or tell me to do things I don't want to, to pull out the old trick of "I don't speak any french... I'm just an American visitor." Grunkle tried this in the US when getting out of a parking ticket. Unfortunately the cop started speaking fluent french back to him. NICE TRY!
Grunkle is now complaining about how his weekly "soft porn" magazine of Madame Figaro (it's no more pornographic than most things in French advertising, which is to say VERY) is "going downhill. It's just a bunch of bloody children." He forgot to read the cover and see that it is the annual kid's issue.
Earlier today as I was about to leave for work at the Taste of Happiness, I left my elders admiring my collection of 70s male fashion post cards, a packet of "mail order hunks" with the most ridiculous and innuendo'd gentleman ever to deface a scrap of paper.
Work today was GREAT! I got to stick together macaroons, eat all the broken ones and was introduced to everyone as the "young American visiting us." Which led to questions of "do you know so-and-so?" Um, well the US does have quite of few people... Unfortunately I don't think we've met.
Fashion Statement of the day: Couple walked in wearing matching leather fedoras.
"People who fight over the little things tend to agree on the big ones."
This is essentially my relationship with my entire family. We squabble, whine, bicker and argue, but when it really gets down to it, we are of one mind. The same is with Granny and her beloved Grunkle. I've never heard an argument over when to change the water in the flower pots for a half an hour before. Or a seriously heated discussion over how one ought to attend to the toaster whilst it does its business. But I learn things everyday, mainly..
a) do not mess with Grunkle's vegetable garden
b) chlorine turning one's hair green isn't a good excuse for not swimming in the pool.
c) Lifting anything will give me back problems.
d) do not hit croquet balls off the croquet lawn and into the veg garden.
Today we visited the fairy rock, which was surrounded by ominous messages in French about how if you vandalize the place, the fairies will get you. We saw no vandalism. Or vandalisers for that matter.
My family left me today, gone back to the United States. Our first motion passed (my Grandparents and I) was to convene over a lunch of cake, ice cream and orange juice. When Grunkle complained about the lack of veggies, he was told sternly to "take what you've got and be grateful." Quite right.
As Granny says, Grunkle is completely bone from the neck up (not) and is "just arm candy and great for carrying things" (and gardening).
Speaking of not so stupid people, I've found it very amusing when people disagree or tell me to do things I don't want to, to pull out the old trick of "I don't speak any french... I'm just an American visitor." Grunkle tried this in the US when getting out of a parking ticket. Unfortunately the cop started speaking fluent french back to him. NICE TRY!
Grunkle is now complaining about how his weekly "soft porn" magazine of Madame Figaro (it's no more pornographic than most things in French advertising, which is to say VERY) is "going downhill. It's just a bunch of bloody children." He forgot to read the cover and see that it is the annual kid's issue.
Earlier today as I was about to leave for work at the Taste of Happiness, I left my elders admiring my collection of 70s male fashion post cards, a packet of "mail order hunks" with the most ridiculous and innuendo'd gentleman ever to deface a scrap of paper.
Work today was GREAT! I got to stick together macaroons, eat all the broken ones and was introduced to everyone as the "young American visiting us." Which led to questions of "do you know so-and-so?" Um, well the US does have quite of few people... Unfortunately I don't think we've met.
Fashion Statement of the day: Couple walked in wearing matching leather fedoras.
Friday, August 19, 2011
So that is all that happened.
Today I opened a bank account, go promoted from sticker duty to making orange juice and sorting chocolates, tried cucumbers for the first time, biked on a collapsable bike 16 kilometers, walked for an hour and correctly requested a stamp instead of a tampon (tambres vs tampons).
Because I forgot my wee booklet, this is all that I remember.
So that is all that happened.
Because I forgot my wee booklet, this is all that I remember.
So that is all that happened.
Thursday, August 18, 2011
Can I taste your clothes?
The best part (in my opinion) about learning a new language is the funny mistakes you make.
Today was market day for La Roche Bernard, and my friend Gaelle very kindly offered to take me around. They have some of the best clothes there, and it was a GREAT opportunity to speak with the locals/natives :).
There is a huge difference in the verbs Gouter and Essayer, namely that one is "To Taste" and the other is "to try." So when I asked to taste the clothes at a particularly scrumptious boutique of lady stuff, I was greeted with gales of laughter.
Sad Day.
I also repeated insisted that I died (je suis fatigue= I'm dead, j'ai fatigue= I'm tired). Not yet!
I worked in the cafe today with the Mila Kunis lookalike and the couple who own the store. Two hours of working with stickers later, and I was permitted to start clearing tables. A little girl started chatting me up. A translated version of our conversation went like this.
Me: I'm just visiting for this week. I'll go to university next week.
Little Girl: But what about your children?
Me: My children? I don't have any.
LG: I think you do.
Me: How old are you?
LG: Seven. And a half.
Me: I don't have kids.
This morning I made a heart shaped egg for Grunkle as Granny REFUSED to do so on anti-egg grounds. I tried apricots for the first time and ate five of them, and ate a gluten free pizza. Nevermind why.
Today was market day for La Roche Bernard, and my friend Gaelle very kindly offered to take me around. They have some of the best clothes there, and it was a GREAT opportunity to speak with the locals/natives :).
There is a huge difference in the verbs Gouter and Essayer, namely that one is "To Taste" and the other is "to try." So when I asked to taste the clothes at a particularly scrumptious boutique of lady stuff, I was greeted with gales of laughter.
Sad Day.
I also repeated insisted that I died (je suis fatigue= I'm dead, j'ai fatigue= I'm tired). Not yet!
I worked in the cafe today with the Mila Kunis lookalike and the couple who own the store. Two hours of working with stickers later, and I was permitted to start clearing tables. A little girl started chatting me up. A translated version of our conversation went like this.
Me: I'm just visiting for this week. I'll go to university next week.
Little Girl: But what about your children?
Me: My children? I don't have any.
LG: I think you do.
Me: How old are you?
LG: Seven. And a half.
Me: I don't have kids.
This morning I made a heart shaped egg for Grunkle as Granny REFUSED to do so on anti-egg grounds. I tried apricots for the first time and ate five of them, and ate a gluten free pizza. Nevermind why.
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
The Rock of Bernard and The Hair of A Peach
After a good night's sleep, we conquered La Roche Bernard, the big-ish town next to Granny and Grunkle's wee village. We stopped by the cafe I'll be working at this week and next week, Le Gout de Bonheur (the Taste of Happiness) and were told to return at 3:30.
The post office was where I ran into trouble. I accidentally asked for 20 tampons instead of 20 tambres (stamps), shocking the postal man... Luckily he was understanding.
After returning home for a good laze around, we went back at 3:30 and I met the shop owner and the apprentice, who looks exactly like Mila Kunis. It's going to be a lot of fun and probably really fattening. I shall run/bike to work, so I can fit in an extra few macaroons daily. The hot chocolate is melted solid stuff, the tea heavenly, the atmosphere inviting. If you're ever in La Roche, COME HERE.
Spotted Today:
-The Corbet Family, who are goat farmers and some of the nicest, most amusing people you will ever meet. Their three children entertained us this afternoon with croquet, swimming and plenty of French jokes. The middle son has very long hair and sells fruit... We asked if it was good for business, having hair like a peach.
-Little boy getting in trouble for kissing the glass at a sandwich shop. So cute.
-Dead wasps EVERYWHERE thanks to the bug killers who took care of the deadly nest by Sam's room.
-Shporty being thrown the pool.
-Being called Bistro Barbie by Pickles (thanks mommy)
-Making fun of language programs (Where is Bryan? He is in the kitchen. Where is his sister? In the bathroom.)
And a final quote of the day
Granny Peppa: Darling, could you be a saint.
Grunkle: I am a saint.
The post office was where I ran into trouble. I accidentally asked for 20 tampons instead of 20 tambres (stamps), shocking the postal man... Luckily he was understanding.
After returning home for a good laze around, we went back at 3:30 and I met the shop owner and the apprentice, who looks exactly like Mila Kunis. It's going to be a lot of fun and probably really fattening. I shall run/bike to work, so I can fit in an extra few macaroons daily. The hot chocolate is melted solid stuff, the tea heavenly, the atmosphere inviting. If you're ever in La Roche, COME HERE.
Spotted Today:
-The Corbet Family, who are goat farmers and some of the nicest, most amusing people you will ever meet. Their three children entertained us this afternoon with croquet, swimming and plenty of French jokes. The middle son has very long hair and sells fruit... We asked if it was good for business, having hair like a peach.
-Little boy getting in trouble for kissing the glass at a sandwich shop. So cute.
-Dead wasps EVERYWHERE thanks to the bug killers who took care of the deadly nest by Sam's room.
-Shporty being thrown the pool.
-Being called Bistro Barbie by Pickles (thanks mommy)
-Making fun of language programs (Where is Bryan? He is in the kitchen. Where is his sister? In the bathroom.)
And a final quote of the day
Granny Peppa: Darling, could you be a saint.
Grunkle: I am a saint.
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
All Fun and Fights
Today was something of a fractious day.
Shporty and I got in some pretty unpleasant squabbles in the car (including an hourlong fight about the perfection of his memory... No matter what you say, you are not a "Perfect Memory Rememberer.")
We also got slightly lost, and found that the French have extended their bank holiday from yesterday till today.... As Granny Peppa says, "perhaps they celebrated too hard yesterday."
A 30 hour work week has got to be really difficult.
We've also invented some new games, namely "PLEASE" and "Pet the Prickle"
PLEASE rules:
Whenever someone says a question, say in a stern tone of voice "PLEASE" If they didn't say it. Points if you get them to say it.
PET THE PRICKLE:
Go around a circle. Sort of like Simon Says, except when you get seriously injured you're out. Play with freshly picked chestnuts. Take turns giving commands.
"Pick a prickle"
"Carry your prickle around the garden"
"Lick your prickle"
"Pet your Prickle."
And so forth.
Life in Trevineuc is DIVINE. We have a swimming pool, sassy grandparents, chestnuts and a boat called SAM1. Tomorrow, goat farmers are coming to dinner!
If the nick names continue to confuse you, check the newly formed glossary. Commenting has also been made easier!
Shporty and I got in some pretty unpleasant squabbles in the car (including an hourlong fight about the perfection of his memory... No matter what you say, you are not a "Perfect Memory Rememberer.")
We also got slightly lost, and found that the French have extended their bank holiday from yesterday till today.... As Granny Peppa says, "perhaps they celebrated too hard yesterday."
A 30 hour work week has got to be really difficult.
We've also invented some new games, namely "PLEASE" and "Pet the Prickle"
PLEASE rules:
Whenever someone says a question, say in a stern tone of voice "PLEASE" If they didn't say it. Points if you get them to say it.
PET THE PRICKLE:
Go around a circle. Sort of like Simon Says, except when you get seriously injured you're out. Play with freshly picked chestnuts. Take turns giving commands.
"Pick a prickle"
"Carry your prickle around the garden"
"Lick your prickle"
"Pet your Prickle."
And so forth.
Life in Trevineuc is DIVINE. We have a swimming pool, sassy grandparents, chestnuts and a boat called SAM1. Tomorrow, goat farmers are coming to dinner!
If the nick names continue to confuse you, check the newly formed glossary. Commenting has also been made easier!
Monday, August 15, 2011
The Trials of Shporty/The Best Day Ever
Today so far has been the highlight of my adventures.
The weather was fantastic, the food mind/stomach boggling and the company highly entertaining.
We began this morning with a scrumptious breakfast. There were "oeufs durs" or "hard eggs" (misspelled). The english translation was killer. "Hardly Boiled Eggs."
To my taste buds they were actually very well boiled.
Granny Peppa has also been increasingly worried about what she calls my "klepto habits." So what if I take all the tissues, shampoo and tea I can find? I'm in poor student mode. I've only bought two things so far (an ice cream and a sandwich). And tissues are unbelievably useful.
I lost my wee booklet (courtesy of my darling friend California) and recruited a maid to help me find it in the hotel. In her haste, she ran up the stairs, tripped and did a somersault. We never did find it (I found it later in my luggage) but it was a good laugh.
Visited the chateau of Chinon, learned about Joan of Arc and Agnes Sobel. Ms. Sobel was the young mistress of Charles 2, who displayed prominently her left breast in all portraits and was poisoned at the age of 25.
Shporty has had some trials of late, poor thing.
Shporty: I don't crash regularly!
Peppa: Only on Sundays.
He took a tumble on his bike in Chinon and bruised himself quite badly. Then today at lunch we were eating when all of a sudden...
Doubleoseven "whose bike is that?"
Shporty's bike was being pissed on by a neighborhood dog. Consider it territory well marked.
He also fell into a ditch from exhaustion, got a headache later on during dinner and threw up a half an hour ago. Poor kid.
Other than that though, it's been a GREAT day. We cheered Granny and Grunkle up every hill and dale, went out for ice creams and I accidentally ordered chocolate chicken (they caught my pronunciation error... it was a long day.) We debated the dangers of walking vs driving drunk (in terms of statistics and not experience) and learned about a certain member of the family's close shave. Literally :)
Two final quotes!
Simon: Lucas, Sam, let's go have fun!
Lucas: (dejected) Right now?
(I'm talking about soul mates with Granny)
Grunkle: You aren't talking about me now, are you?
Granny: Oh darling, as if I ever stop.
Thank you to my dearest Ruthie for my mailed package. Grunkle said he cut strips out of it, but I smacked him and found it was a lie. Muchas Gracias et Merci Beaucoup.
The weather was fantastic, the food mind/stomach boggling and the company highly entertaining.
We began this morning with a scrumptious breakfast. There were "oeufs durs" or "hard eggs" (misspelled). The english translation was killer. "Hardly Boiled Eggs."
To my taste buds they were actually very well boiled.
Granny Peppa has also been increasingly worried about what she calls my "klepto habits." So what if I take all the tissues, shampoo and tea I can find? I'm in poor student mode. I've only bought two things so far (an ice cream and a sandwich). And tissues are unbelievably useful.
I lost my wee booklet (courtesy of my darling friend California) and recruited a maid to help me find it in the hotel. In her haste, she ran up the stairs, tripped and did a somersault. We never did find it (I found it later in my luggage) but it was a good laugh.
Visited the chateau of Chinon, learned about Joan of Arc and Agnes Sobel. Ms. Sobel was the young mistress of Charles 2, who displayed prominently her left breast in all portraits and was poisoned at the age of 25.
Shporty has had some trials of late, poor thing.
Shporty: I don't crash regularly!
Peppa: Only on Sundays.
He took a tumble on his bike in Chinon and bruised himself quite badly. Then today at lunch we were eating when all of a sudden...
Doubleoseven "whose bike is that?"
Shporty's bike was being pissed on by a neighborhood dog. Consider it territory well marked.
He also fell into a ditch from exhaustion, got a headache later on during dinner and threw up a half an hour ago. Poor kid.
Other than that though, it's been a GREAT day. We cheered Granny and Grunkle up every hill and dale, went out for ice creams and I accidentally ordered chocolate chicken (they caught my pronunciation error... it was a long day.) We debated the dangers of walking vs driving drunk (in terms of statistics and not experience) and learned about a certain member of the family's close shave. Literally :)
Two final quotes!
Simon: Lucas, Sam, let's go have fun!
Lucas: (dejected) Right now?
(I'm talking about soul mates with Granny)
Grunkle: You aren't talking about me now, are you?
Granny: Oh darling, as if I ever stop.
Thank you to my dearest Ruthie for my mailed package. Grunkle said he cut strips out of it, but I smacked him and found it was a lie. Muchas Gracias et Merci Beaucoup.
Sunday, August 14, 2011
It's fun to stay at the...
Sorry if this comes a little late, I was just doing the YMCA with Grunkle on some random bridge in Chinon during a wedding... The band was awful, the stares I got for dancing through the street doing the appropriate dance moves were wonderful.
Despite being in the Loire Valley with the Famous Vins De Loire Valley I didn't indulge in dinner. No, this was just exhuberance, and generally partying with one's grandparents. Everyone ought to try it sometime. DA=18
It's been a great day. We visited/biked through a lovely town called Huismes (pronounce how you see fit) and have been turning to the mothercountry for a dose of "elevensies" and "tea." Darlings, elevensies is the new lunch. It's THE BEST.
We've also had a spurt of calorie counting from Shporty, leading us to shout with enTHUsiasm as he bikes along, "Look out! He's burning calories!"
Quite the motivator.
We've not been biking very hard, I'm afraid. Every couple of miles, a particular Granny finds a lovely clump of blackberries and of course once we've have some berries we get out all our snacks and have a go at it for the next 20 minutes. Despite many lessons on gear changing, we still find ourselves puffing and walking up hills. Blackberries tend to grow in these places.
We also visited the Chateau de Usse, which inspired the sleeping beauty story. The inside was full of many mannequins and small children with the cutest accents.
"Papa, if we're very good, can we have a chocolate when we get out?"
"How good will you be?"
(child thinks for a second) "I won't pick my nose, ALL afternoon."
Dearest papa, I would take that deal.
This evening we had a SPLENDID meal filled with curry chicken and various ice creams. To quote Granny Peppa-
"I was, as they say, drooling."
One final quote before I take a long awaited shower.
"I date oxymorons."
"I date morons."
Comment or email me!!
Despite being in the Loire Valley with the Famous Vins De Loire Valley I didn't indulge in dinner. No, this was just exhuberance, and generally partying with one's grandparents. Everyone ought to try it sometime. DA=18
It's been a great day. We visited/biked through a lovely town called Huismes (pronounce how you see fit) and have been turning to the mothercountry for a dose of "elevensies" and "tea." Darlings, elevensies is the new lunch. It's THE BEST.
We've also had a spurt of calorie counting from Shporty, leading us to shout with enTHUsiasm as he bikes along, "Look out! He's burning calories!"
Quite the motivator.
We've not been biking very hard, I'm afraid. Every couple of miles, a particular Granny finds a lovely clump of blackberries and of course once we've have some berries we get out all our snacks and have a go at it for the next 20 minutes. Despite many lessons on gear changing, we still find ourselves puffing and walking up hills. Blackberries tend to grow in these places.
We also visited the Chateau de Usse, which inspired the sleeping beauty story. The inside was full of many mannequins and small children with the cutest accents.
"Papa, if we're very good, can we have a chocolate when we get out?"
"How good will you be?"
(child thinks for a second) "I won't pick my nose, ALL afternoon."
Dearest papa, I would take that deal.
This evening we had a SPLENDID meal filled with curry chicken and various ice creams. To quote Granny Peppa-
"I was, as they say, drooling."
One final quote before I take a long awaited shower.
"I date oxymorons."
"I date morons."
Comment or email me!!
Saturday, August 13, 2011
Beauty of the Sleeping Woods
Typing away to you from the hotel in Rigny-Ussay (spelling?), home of the castle which apparently inspired the story "The Sleeping Beauty." We are in the Loire Valley, biking around for the next two days! In French it translates technically as the Beauty of the Sleeping Woods, but we aren't picky, especially when tired from a day of full biking on busy roads, a tough diet of croissants, french delicacies (calvados, anyone? DA=18) and squabbles over whose teddy bears are bigger and who is taking up all the scarce coat hooks.
These are real arguments people. My Frenchie grandparents make teenagers in love look unadorable. Their (amusing and light) bickering and endless nicknames are a source of romantic inspiration. I'm going to write an epic love story about the older generation, who in my opinion are underrepresented in the theaters and in need of chronicling. Which leads me to my current conundrum.
As my loyal followers on this blog, they've (Granny Peppa and Grunkledooddledoo) decided to censor themselves so I don't put anything embarrassing.
*Word to the wise: don't tell people when you write about them. Thattaway you get sued when you're rich and famous, not stifled when you're a threadbare student with too quick of a tongue.*
Also, please know, I LOVE COMMENTS. If it doesn't work for you, please email me! I'll email you back!
Spotted today:
-Man who sang us the star spangled banner as we got our bikes (aside from the high notes, you were wonderful)
-playing poohsticks at this random castle on our route. For the record, I won all the important contests. Poohsticks is very competitive in this family. If you don't know what it is, visit
-Swans, who turned out to be ducks, much to Granny Peppa's dismay.
-A store in Tours (yesterday) with the name "Mangez Moi." Literally, "Eat Me."
Various photos for your enjoyment, as I'm sure you've been waiting anxiously for. If we are friends on facebook, I'll be uploading a big album soon!
By the way, a convo I forgot to post earlier.
Queen Pickles: Ou est la salle de bain? (very good french for her :))
Waiter: C'est juste la!
Pickles: Gracias.
-Ma
These are real arguments people. My Frenchie grandparents make teenagers in love look unadorable. Their (amusing and light) bickering and endless nicknames are a source of romantic inspiration. I'm going to write an epic love story about the older generation, who in my opinion are underrepresented in the theaters and in need of chronicling. Which leads me to my current conundrum.
As my loyal followers on this blog, they've (Granny Peppa and Grunkledooddledoo) decided to censor themselves so I don't put anything embarrassing.
*Word to the wise: don't tell people when you write about them. Thattaway you get sued when you're rich and famous, not stifled when you're a threadbare student with too quick of a tongue.*
Also, please know, I LOVE COMMENTS. If it doesn't work for you, please email me! I'll email you back!
Spotted today:
-Man who sang us the star spangled banner as we got our bikes (aside from the high notes, you were wonderful)
-playing poohsticks at this random castle on our route. For the record, I won all the important contests. Poohsticks is very competitive in this family. If you don't know what it is, visit
-Swans, who turned out to be ducks, much to Granny Peppa's dismay.
-A store in Tours (yesterday) with the name "Mangez Moi." Literally, "Eat Me."
Various photos for your enjoyment, as I'm sure you've been waiting anxiously for. If we are friends on facebook, I'll be uploading a big album soon!
By the way, a convo I forgot to post earlier.
Queen Pickles: Ou est la salle de bain? (very good french for her :))
Waiter: C'est juste la!
Pickles: Gracias.
-Ma
Friday, August 12, 2011
A Tour of Tours (and a trip or too)
Today we vacated the chateau. A tearful goodbye was bid, promises and good wishes exchanged. But don't been distressed on my account, I'll see my British grandparents in october!
We then drove four hours in a cramped, fractious car, giggling and picking fights all the way to Tours. We had a lovely lunch and I was sent to go locate the car where we were trying to find our swiss friends.
I went across the street to find some wifi. After being helped by an fantastically good looking and bespectacled young Frenchman ("Excusé moi, mais est-ce que je pourrais AIDER VOUS?"...) I got my directions, bid adieu... and gracefully tripped off the sidewalk.
Smoothness was sadly lacking.
We then met up with our lovely friends, had a tour of Tours, Shrugalot tripped all over kingdom come and we finally set out for annecy de something or another.
Where we met up with my dearest French Grandparents, Grunkle and Granny Peppa.
Grunkle actually isn't even a code name...
We then drove four hours in a cramped, fractious car, giggling and picking fights all the way to Tours. We had a lovely lunch and I was sent to go locate the car where we were trying to find our swiss friends.
I went across the street to find some wifi. After being helped by an fantastically good looking and bespectacled young Frenchman ("Excusé moi, mais est-ce que je pourrais AIDER VOUS?"...) I got my directions, bid adieu... and gracefully tripped off the sidewalk.
Smoothness was sadly lacking.
We then met up with our lovely friends, had a tour of Tours, Shrugalot tripped all over kingdom come and we finally set out for annecy de something or another.
Where we met up with my dearest French Grandparents, Grunkle and Granny Peppa.
Grunkle actually isn't even a code name...
Thursday, August 11, 2011
In The Land Of Salty Pancakes
Today we visited a tourist haven which has been popular for CENTURIES. Since, well, 1200 a.d. or so.
Mont St. Michel, to be exact!
After an early morning of hauling my lazy self out of bed, experiencing Janda's terrifying driving (he picks his teeth when he drives... less reassuring when semis are coming up on wee french roads.)
Quote Grann... "But he's the best driver in the world, didn't you know?"
We have some name changes in order as well.
Grann is now "Granini" (granny to a Panini)
Shrug has been knighted, and is now Sir Shrugalot.
Pickles has one-uped everyone, and crowned herself. Make way for Queen Pickles!
Sir Shrugalot would also like the world to know how awesome he is. So strong, brave, beautiful, and the way he mangles his Spanish with his budding French is just... Dashing.
Does that pass the test of sisterly love darling brother?
At Mont St. Michel we had a guide called Jessica who was knowledgable, friendly and had the weirdest accents. She was 100% French, but spoke with British, American, New Zealander etc and so forth accents. A real hodge podge. Anyways, got her number, we're soon to be besties.
At lunch, the galette I ordered (a savory sort of crepe) was advertized as a "Salty Pancake." Needless to say, it lived higher than expectations. Lunch was made truly amazing by Doubleoseven's
"et un peu de vin, et deux glaces avec ca." If you don't spreakinzie francais, darling Papa asked for a little red wine, and two ice creams to go along with that.
He meant to say two glasses. :)
Dinner was dominated by conversation and foodish things, most notably the fantastic rosbif, and the ladies bonding over their love of ironing. Ah, to be so preoccupied.
Another convo, for your giggling pleasure.
Queen Pickles: Shrug, stop texting at the table.
Sir S: I'm not on my phone.
Queen P: Well you're either on your phone or playing with yourself. I think you're on your phone.
Sir S: Um awkward. I'm going to go clear the dishes.
Finally, we have a cow whisperer in the family. Previous, Doubleoseven had made his debut talent as a turtle whisperer
((Me and Shrug are putting a baby turtle into the water)
Doubleoseven: How do you know he wants to go into the water?
Shrug: Turtles like water.
(Pause as I place turtle onto a rock)
Doubleoseven: I don't think the turtle likes that rock.
Me: Who are you, the turtle whisperer?
Shrug (whispers): turtles turtles turtles turtles.)
But now he has proven his amazing skill at speaking with cows. They come running at his lowing call, and simply look scared when I let out a voice cracking "meooooo." Perhaps it comes with age.
Mont St. Michel, to be exact!
After an early morning of hauling my lazy self out of bed, experiencing Janda's terrifying driving (he picks his teeth when he drives... less reassuring when semis are coming up on wee french roads.)
Quote Grann... "But he's the best driver in the world, didn't you know?"
We have some name changes in order as well.
Grann is now "Granini" (granny to a Panini)
Shrug has been knighted, and is now Sir Shrugalot.
Pickles has one-uped everyone, and crowned herself. Make way for Queen Pickles!
Sir Shrugalot would also like the world to know how awesome he is. So strong, brave, beautiful, and the way he mangles his Spanish with his budding French is just... Dashing.
Does that pass the test of sisterly love darling brother?
At Mont St. Michel we had a guide called Jessica who was knowledgable, friendly and had the weirdest accents. She was 100% French, but spoke with British, American, New Zealander etc and so forth accents. A real hodge podge. Anyways, got her number, we're soon to be besties.
At lunch, the galette I ordered (a savory sort of crepe) was advertized as a "Salty Pancake." Needless to say, it lived higher than expectations. Lunch was made truly amazing by Doubleoseven's
"et un peu de vin, et deux glaces avec ca." If you don't spreakinzie francais, darling Papa asked for a little red wine, and two ice creams to go along with that.
He meant to say two glasses. :)
Dinner was dominated by conversation and foodish things, most notably the fantastic rosbif, and the ladies bonding over their love of ironing. Ah, to be so preoccupied.
Another convo, for your giggling pleasure.
Queen Pickles: Shrug, stop texting at the table.
Sir S: I'm not on my phone.
Queen P: Well you're either on your phone or playing with yourself. I think you're on your phone.
Sir S: Um awkward. I'm going to go clear the dishes.
Finally, we have a cow whisperer in the family. Previous, Doubleoseven had made his debut talent as a turtle whisperer
((Me and Shrug are putting a baby turtle into the water)
Doubleoseven: How do you know he wants to go into the water?
Shrug: Turtles like water.
(Pause as I place turtle onto a rock)
Doubleoseven: I don't think the turtle likes that rock.
Me: Who are you, the turtle whisperer?
Shrug (whispers): turtles turtles turtles turtles.)
But now he has proven his amazing skill at speaking with cows. They come running at his lowing call, and simply look scared when I let out a voice cracking "meooooo." Perhaps it comes with age.
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
A Most Dangerous Moat
Our chateau has a moat. It also has a boat that goes along with this moat, and to get to the boat in order to paddle the moat one must hop a fence.
Suggestion: Don't try this in skirts/dresses/sandals.
The moat turned out to be six inches deep (take that invaders!) and full of the worlds most aggressive frogs. I croaked my way down the river and way followed by an armanda of amphibians. Nearly fell in, hopped the fence (flashed the Italians next door... wait, you didn't know we had Italian neighbors at the Chateau de C____? Neither did we) and went in to read a book.
After endless games of cards we went to Port En Bessin, which means "Port in a Basin" for lunch and some beachy fun. Lunch was TASTY, and I made ten euros by eating some fish eyes. Videos may follow. An excellent way to pay for one's gap year, in my opinion.
Also bought a snancy new sweatshirt with sailor stripes, spied some more RVs and saved a man's jacket from being run over. Positively saintlike behavior.
At the beach we arrived as the tide was coming in and after getting nice and soaked, we buried Shporty and made him into the shape of a turtle. The incapacitated little brother proceeded to wail every time sand came in his mouth, so we put a towel on his face. A solution we will use again in the future.
Amusing story...
An irishman who ran one of London's biggest "entertainment" houses taught his dog this..
Irishman: What do leetle gurls doo forr diamondss?
(dog rolls on it's back and wags its legs in the air.)
Janda was banished to the Sin Bin last night and was berated today for his cacophonous snoring. He has a twitchy leg in his sleep and so offered to go sleep then in the car... Wonder what the Italians would think of the grunting and leg flailing coming from the car?
Rigor Amortis.
Suggestion: Don't try this in skirts/dresses/sandals.
The moat turned out to be six inches deep (take that invaders!) and full of the worlds most aggressive frogs. I croaked my way down the river and way followed by an armanda of amphibians. Nearly fell in, hopped the fence (flashed the Italians next door... wait, you didn't know we had Italian neighbors at the Chateau de C____? Neither did we) and went in to read a book.
After endless games of cards we went to Port En Bessin, which means "Port in a Basin" for lunch and some beachy fun. Lunch was TASTY, and I made ten euros by eating some fish eyes. Videos may follow. An excellent way to pay for one's gap year, in my opinion.
Also bought a snancy new sweatshirt with sailor stripes, spied some more RVs and saved a man's jacket from being run over. Positively saintlike behavior.
At the beach we arrived as the tide was coming in and after getting nice and soaked, we buried Shporty and made him into the shape of a turtle. The incapacitated little brother proceeded to wail every time sand came in his mouth, so we put a towel on his face. A solution we will use again in the future.
Amusing story...
An irishman who ran one of London's biggest "entertainment" houses taught his dog this..
Irishman: What do leetle gurls doo forr diamondss?
(dog rolls on it's back and wags its legs in the air.)
Janda was banished to the Sin Bin last night and was berated today for his cacophonous snoring. He has a twitchy leg in his sleep and so offered to go sleep then in the car... Wonder what the Italians would think of the grunting and leg flailing coming from the car?
Rigor Amortis.
Thaiphoid
Doubleoseven: Dad, do you like thai food?
Janda: Not when it's lethal.
Doubleoseven: Thai food??
Janda: Oh.. well, typhoid.
Janda: Not when it's lethal.
Doubleoseven: Thai food??
Janda: Oh.. well, typhoid.
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
Lettuce and Peace
I apologize sincerely to anyone who reads this blog (hard to tell with the lack of comments :)) for the absence yesterday. My brother Shrug was using the interwebs to speak with his friend of the lady-like gender. I have various updates then from yesterday and today, split up into days.
August 9th today news- Today we went BACK to the war museum to actually look at the museum bit. Came out a bit queasy and very much a pacifist. I really hope we outgrow bombs and weapons in my lifetime. Anyone who tries to convince people that war is a necessary function of the world has no consideration for the lives lost senselessly before, or the respect for the families of those they ask to sacrifice themselves. My humble opinion.
We then went to the Bayeux township and saw the 950+ year old tapestry depicting another war, that of Harold and William. So much death, and only three women in the massive tapestry. One of them was the daughter Aeygl (spelling?). The monitor told me (word for word) "His daughter, Aegylkdhbfkjgb is depicted here as returning and being reminded of her betrothal, as evidenced by her being slapped by a priest." I beg your pardon? Dear Parents, please don't smack me when I get engaged.
Other sightings-
Police in jeans... Casual tuesday for law enforcement?
So many creepy posters of clowns. Tis the season of circuses (circi? latin whizzes??
August 8th-
Drove in the morning to Omaha golf club.
Quotes from drive out by my Grann
"dear me, have they misplaced their accelerator?"
"my, she was a fiesty little driver."
Terrible head cold, as such left after first 9 and went with Shporty and Pickles (she wants a new name, given all the flac she's getting from various persons. Please stop teasing her, I like this nickname).
Paid Shporty 50p to be silent, and had a to do list from Pickles of
-Lunch
-The Sea
-Something Impulsive.
Learned how to drive a stickshift (APPARENTLY I was pretty impressive, and only stalled going from 2nd back to 1st. And maybe starting once or twice.)
Quotes from dinner
Rando- "What did you shoot Shrug?"
Shrug- "85"
Rando- "And you Janda?"
Janda- "I shot myself."
"So how did you get so good at golf Janda?"
"Well thank you, that's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me."
Things I learned on August 8th
-Obama in Normandy is a huge selling point. Woot Americans.
-RVs are popular at Omaha beach. The scourge is everywhere.
-They have raunchy novels in the supermarkets too! The titles are hilarious, translated "The Frenchman and The American" "A Flight to Remember" "Tall Dark and Dangerous."
-Apparently in cricket it is good to be a leg break googley bowler.
Most common phrase on trip, "are you going to eat your lettuce?"
Happiest of birthdays to my Ruthie.
August 9th today news- Today we went BACK to the war museum to actually look at the museum bit. Came out a bit queasy and very much a pacifist. I really hope we outgrow bombs and weapons in my lifetime. Anyone who tries to convince people that war is a necessary function of the world has no consideration for the lives lost senselessly before, or the respect for the families of those they ask to sacrifice themselves. My humble opinion.
We then went to the Bayeux township and saw the 950+ year old tapestry depicting another war, that of Harold and William. So much death, and only three women in the massive tapestry. One of them was the daughter Aeygl (spelling?). The monitor told me (word for word) "His daughter, Aegylkdhbfkjgb is depicted here as returning and being reminded of her betrothal, as evidenced by her being slapped by a priest." I beg your pardon? Dear Parents, please don't smack me when I get engaged.
Other sightings-
Police in jeans... Casual tuesday for law enforcement?
So many creepy posters of clowns. Tis the season of circuses (circi? latin whizzes??
August 8th-
Drove in the morning to Omaha golf club.
Quotes from drive out by my Grann
"dear me, have they misplaced their accelerator?"
"my, she was a fiesty little driver."
Terrible head cold, as such left after first 9 and went with Shporty and Pickles (she wants a new name, given all the flac she's getting from various persons. Please stop teasing her, I like this nickname).
Paid Shporty 50p to be silent, and had a to do list from Pickles of
-Lunch
-The Sea
-Something Impulsive.
Learned how to drive a stickshift (APPARENTLY I was pretty impressive, and only stalled going from 2nd back to 1st. And maybe starting once or twice.)
Quotes from dinner
Rando- "What did you shoot Shrug?"
Shrug- "85"
Rando- "And you Janda?"
Janda- "I shot myself."
"So how did you get so good at golf Janda?"
"Well thank you, that's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me."
Things I learned on August 8th
-Obama in Normandy is a huge selling point. Woot Americans.
-RVs are popular at Omaha beach. The scourge is everywhere.
-They have raunchy novels in the supermarkets too! The titles are hilarious, translated "The Frenchman and The American" "A Flight to Remember" "Tall Dark and Dangerous."
-Apparently in cricket it is good to be a leg break googley bowler.
Most common phrase on trip, "are you going to eat your lettuce?"
Happiest of birthdays to my Ruthie.
Sunday, August 7, 2011
The British Are Coming!
Today I walked by the graves of 9,000 people. Soldiers, mostly, and a few nurses (including the one from Saving Private Ryan, who died not in combat but after, in a plane crash. She was a BABE.)
We visited the American and French Memorials for the D-Day landings, with a Romanian tour guide called Corina (WONDERFUL job, you should reward her for being so awesome if you're reading this, French Memorial Foundation).
Very humbling and sad, to think that people my age and younger (the youngest who died fighting was 14) lost their lives so tragically. Also, I was shocked to hear that 2,000 civilians died... just in one city, Caen. We only talk about the joy of being liberated from the Nazis, but many people lost their lives before they could be "liberated." And so much battle and carnage... Instead of going on a gap year or going to college, my friends and I could've been going off to war.
In the War Museum there was a record playing of the Andrews Sisters. New favorite band. "Rum and coooo-CAH! Cola."
Most exciting news of the day was seeing a tattoo parlor that offered "bijoux dents." Yes, even in a randy city in Normandy you can get Grillz.
Also, Caen has some very talented graffiti artists. Most of the french graffiti I've seen has been BORING, just tags or initials. No, you vandalizers, it doesn't make you cool. But this stuff is CLASSY and awesome. Keep at it!
We visited the American and French Memorials for the D-Day landings, with a Romanian tour guide called Corina (WONDERFUL job, you should reward her for being so awesome if you're reading this, French Memorial Foundation).
Very humbling and sad, to think that people my age and younger (the youngest who died fighting was 14) lost their lives so tragically. Also, I was shocked to hear that 2,000 civilians died... just in one city, Caen. We only talk about the joy of being liberated from the Nazis, but many people lost their lives before they could be "liberated." And so much battle and carnage... Instead of going on a gap year or going to college, my friends and I could've been going off to war.
In the War Museum there was a record playing of the Andrews Sisters. New favorite band. "Rum and coooo-CAH! Cola."
Most exciting news of the day was seeing a tattoo parlor that offered "bijoux dents." Yes, even in a randy city in Normandy you can get Grillz.
Also, Caen has some very talented graffiti artists. Most of the french graffiti I've seen has been BORING, just tags or initials. No, you vandalizers, it doesn't make you cool. But this stuff is CLASSY and awesome. Keep at it!
Saturday, August 6, 2011
Life On The Sin Bin
We have now taken refuge in a chateau in Normandy, Chateau de C_____ to be precise. It is 4 km away from the Graveyard featured so dramatically in "Saving Private Ryan." I didn't see SPR, as often times Scooby Doo is too violent for me, but I'm told it is "Epic" and "Gory." Not my French cup of tea.
It (this chateau) has a moat, a boat, and the addition of two brand spanking new grandparents who have arrived with all their british accents, sass, much better swear words and general outlook on life.
In a nutshell-
"If it is serious, let's poke fun."
Some quotes from today include--->
Doubleoseven- Dad, do you want red or white with lunch?
Janda- Yes.
Grann- Are you going to be helpful or not darling?
Janda- I'm going to be helpful. As always.
Grann- Drink it slowly dear, and have it for later.
Janda- Or I could drink it fast and order another.
The Sin Bin is the new name couch my dearest Grandfather "Janda" has taken for his own. He assumed that his hedonistic habits would result in
a) his expulsion from his room with Grann (my English granny).
b) his inability to walk up two flights of windy, uneven cobblestone steps.
Played cards with doubleoseven, Janda and for a little bit, Shporty. Score (in games won).
Marf- 5
Doubleo- 4
Janda- 0
Shporty- 0
Janda then grumped and said "I'm now going to go to bed in a sulk."
Grann's repartee- "Why change a lifelong habit now?"
I love my Grandparents.
It (this chateau) has a moat, a boat, and the addition of two brand spanking new grandparents who have arrived with all their british accents, sass, much better swear words and general outlook on life.
In a nutshell-
"If it is serious, let's poke fun."
Some quotes from today include--->
Doubleoseven- Dad, do you want red or white with lunch?
Janda- Yes.
Grann- Are you going to be helpful or not darling?
Janda- I'm going to be helpful. As always.
Grann- Drink it slowly dear, and have it for later.
Janda- Or I could drink it fast and order another.
The Sin Bin is the new name couch my dearest Grandfather "Janda" has taken for his own. He assumed that his hedonistic habits would result in
a) his expulsion from his room with Grann (my English granny).
b) his inability to walk up two flights of windy, uneven cobblestone steps.
Played cards with doubleoseven, Janda and for a little bit, Shporty. Score (in games won).
Marf- 5
Doubleo- 4
Janda- 0
Shporty- 0
Janda then grumped and said "I'm now going to go to bed in a sulk."
Grann's repartee- "Why change a lifelong habit now?"
I love my Grandparents.
Friday, August 5, 2011
It never rains but it hurricanes...
We had some delightful experiences yesterday.
Namely the first was getting soaked up to our knees by rushing water, and drenched to our inner-est innards by what one Parisian called "I've never seen this before."
Motorcycles sunk in the square and one man was up to his armpits trying to unplug a drain... He was most likely just trying to save his car though. Shrug almost cried when a Ferrari (one ah them real nice ones.) didn't make it through the foot and a half (should I say approx 150 cm?) of h20 and pulled over squeaking and grumbling. Ferrari may need to improve the submarine abilities of their sports cars.
We also went out for I-talian food, and were the ONLY ones eating at 7 pm. Silly yanquees. Father (Doubleoseven to you) told us delightful stories of his own gap year, and trials. His work in a French resort was perhaps the most hilarious but also the most unsharable on this PG rated blog.
In our efforts to blend in, we tried to rent some bicycles from their bike share program. Three failed plastic card efforts later, we gave up and walked to the Louvre. (N.L. shoutout: Louvring Life, Louvring You). We didn't want to blend in ANYWAYS.
Some photographs for your viewing pleasure, taken from Pickle's wee flat gadget.
Namely the first was getting soaked up to our knees by rushing water, and drenched to our inner-est innards by what one Parisian called "I've never seen this before."
Motorcycles sunk in the square and one man was up to his armpits trying to unplug a drain... He was most likely just trying to save his car though. Shrug almost cried when a Ferrari (one ah them real nice ones.) didn't make it through the foot and a half (should I say approx 150 cm?) of h20 and pulled over squeaking and grumbling. Ferrari may need to improve the submarine abilities of their sports cars.
We also went out for I-talian food, and were the ONLY ones eating at 7 pm. Silly yanquees. Father (Doubleoseven to you) told us delightful stories of his own gap year, and trials. His work in a French resort was perhaps the most hilarious but also the most unsharable on this PG rated blog.
In our efforts to blend in, we tried to rent some bicycles from their bike share program. Three failed plastic card efforts later, we gave up and walked to the Louvre. (N.L. shoutout: Louvring Life, Louvring You). We didn't want to blend in ANYWAYS.
Some photographs for your viewing pleasure, taken from Pickle's wee flat gadget.
The Paris Experience
I'm not much of a tourist. Big flashy sights and monuments are not usually my cup of tea, although I must say from the top of the Eiffel Tower Paris is quite the sight to behold.
Beforehand we had stopped by a café for some well deserved breakfast. I charmed the waitress with my "good accent" and less good vocabulary while Shrug, my other brother, disappeared to the bathroom. After about ten minutes he came back grinning (a warning sign right there).
Apparently there was a drunk man in the bathroom (it's 11:20 am people) who wanted to have an "American experience." They talked about George Bush and The Hangover.
Other interesting sights include a man wearing very well fitting yoga pants strutting up the Eiffel Tower. He had every right to wear them.
There was also an elderly British lady who was eager to budge in the queue to go down in the elevator. She kept sighing and grumbling under her breath. She just missed getting into our elevator, and as the doors closed there was an imitation sigh. No idea who would be so cheeky....
Shporty also felt the need to imitate a turtle the whole way up, frightening some Japanese tourists. Luckily he has two older siblings to straighten him out.
One final thing to mention is the PDA vs. PDH. I understand all the kissing and holding hands and lovey dovey fondling (even the 80+ crowd indulges). But there is a limit to all this and my wee eleven year old brother seeing soft core porn all over the newsstands is perhaps a little far. Still, in my opinion it's better than all the violence we in the USofA put up with.
Beforehand we had stopped by a café for some well deserved breakfast. I charmed the waitress with my "good accent" and less good vocabulary while Shrug, my other brother, disappeared to the bathroom. After about ten minutes he came back grinning (a warning sign right there).
Apparently there was a drunk man in the bathroom (it's 11:20 am people) who wanted to have an "American experience." They talked about George Bush and The Hangover.
Other interesting sights include a man wearing very well fitting yoga pants strutting up the Eiffel Tower. He had every right to wear them.
There was also an elderly British lady who was eager to budge in the queue to go down in the elevator. She kept sighing and grumbling under her breath. She just missed getting into our elevator, and as the doors closed there was an imitation sigh. No idea who would be so cheeky....
Shporty also felt the need to imitate a turtle the whole way up, frightening some Japanese tourists. Luckily he has two older siblings to straighten him out.
One final thing to mention is the PDA vs. PDH. I understand all the kissing and holding hands and lovey dovey fondling (even the 80+ crowd indulges). But there is a limit to all this and my wee eleven year old brother seeing soft core porn all over the newsstands is perhaps a little far. Still, in my opinion it's better than all the violence we in the USofA put up with.
Thursday, August 4, 2011
Quickie
Currently mooching off of the inter webs of a cafe. Flight was filled with Tylenol pm fueled hallucinations, and doubleoseven and I solving the worlds problems by devising a new economic system. More on that later.
May I say, this place does have swanky taxis (not that we took one). Mercedes... Vroom vrooom.
May I say, this place does have swanky taxis (not that we took one). Mercedes... Vroom vrooom.
The Early Bird Gets a Cold
In preparation for my upcoming flight and new time zone (Pickles has deemed me flight-worthy... no random girl in my seat!) I woke myself up early at an ungodly hour. Battling a cold as well has made for a rather sniffly and hoarse morning. My reaction times are also halved, so when my cat Lady decided to play ninja kitty, she landed a big scratch.
Meanwhile I can hear my little brother Shporty and father Doubleoseven snoring in harmony. It is seven thirty already and I am still the only one awake!
Never mind, I stand corrected. Pickles has launched on a frantic crusade and we are the heathens. Hopefully she'll have better success than the real crusades! At the very least I ask that we don't die of dysentery.
The battle has reached my room, and I must flee/put real clothes on. The next time I broadcast, I may be on the other side of the Pond!
Meanwhile I can hear my little brother Shporty and father Doubleoseven snoring in harmony. It is seven thirty already and I am still the only one awake!
Never mind, I stand corrected. Pickles has launched on a frantic crusade and we are the heathens. Hopefully she'll have better success than the real crusades! At the very least I ask that we don't die of dysentery.
The battle has reached my room, and I must flee/put real clothes on. The next time I broadcast, I may be on the other side of the Pond!
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
The Calm Before The Storm
Greetings!
Currently rushing around the house, attempting to find, fix, pack, and demolish everything in sight. The plane leaves tomorrow in the afternoon but to quote my mother "Pickles"
"If everything is not perfect, you will be left at home and we will take some random girl in your place."
Thus the pressure is on.
But first, some things I am excited for in this coming section of my extravaganza.
France-
-The Food (must find methods of exercise... preferably dance or a martial art)
-The public transportation. (The public transportation. I absolutely adore taking the city bus, the BEST adventures happen. Hopefully Nantes has the same set of oddballs who make scenes.)
-Learning a whole new set of slang.
I'm also worried about the propensity of smokers who are my age... Lungs are not meant to be filters for noxious gases. Hello second hand smoke and cancer!
Will keep the world updated as to whether Pickles actually lets me onto the plance.
Currently rushing around the house, attempting to find, fix, pack, and demolish everything in sight. The plane leaves tomorrow in the afternoon but to quote my mother "Pickles"
"If everything is not perfect, you will be left at home and we will take some random girl in your place."
Thus the pressure is on.
But first, some things I am excited for in this coming section of my extravaganza.
France-
-The Food (must find methods of exercise... preferably dance or a martial art)
-The public transportation. (The public transportation. I absolutely adore taking the city bus, the BEST adventures happen. Hopefully Nantes has the same set of oddballs who make scenes.)
-Learning a whole new set of slang.
I'm also worried about the propensity of smokers who are my age... Lungs are not meant to be filters for noxious gases. Hello second hand smoke and cancer!
Will keep the world updated as to whether Pickles actually lets me onto the plance.
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