Not as weird as french music.

I have the problem of being unable to reply when asked what I want for Christmas.

The only things I can think of are socks (I ALWAYS need socks) and peanut butter. But I still have half a jar, which has lasted since October 1st.

Sad day.

HOWEVER, the holiday of Thanksgiving (or as the french say, "Sanksgeevin") is upon us. And the spirit of thanksgiving is giving thanks, not giving gifts. For those of you who don't obsessively read the NYTimes, there is a wonderful article about gratitude

http://www.nytimes.com/2011/11/22/science/a-serving-of-gratitude-brings-healthy-dividends.html?_r=1&nl=todaysheadlines&emc=tha210

Regularly feeling gratitude helps you sleep better, makes you a calmer, more optimistic person and a more moral, kinder person. Instead of wishing for those things, perhaps say thank you for what you already have.

I am very grateful to have not one but MANY families I can call my own, around the globe, whom I adore. I am grateful for six amazing grandparents, two wonderful brothers, two awe-striking parents, a Ruthie-parent, two cats (even if one drools), a sister of the soul, my thousands of friends and acquaintances I miss and meet everyday and for my current life. I am truly blessed to have the people and places around me that I do.

I wish I didn't sleepwalk, or lose my temper when my breakfast is insulted. But maybe gratitude will fix those things.

But enough with gooshiness.

Have lately been battling to the death with the subjunctif. I want to throttle this tense alive. I will conquer it, but there will be some major damage done on both sides. Curses.

Quoi de neuf? (what's new?) Watched a weird movie about Vincent Van Gogh (they say his last name "Gogg"), who was a pretty weird guy anyways.

Today we danced Le Rock in dance class (it's super fun, particularly when we play Michael Jackson or Fine Young Cannibals) and Cha-Cha.

I was a child who was raised on Collective Soul, Fine Young Cannibals, Spin Doctors and Shania Twain. And an inordinate amount of ABBA. This diverse collection of tunes has probably done really weird things to my brain. BUT NOT AS WEIRD AS FRENCH MUSIC!

Going to go back to Kato Lomb. Ciao! (bon nuit) (buenos noches)

Yes Please!

In the course of one's life, it is wise to say yes to random propositions by one's friends to meet up at 7 the next morning to hop on a train to another city for a day of fun.

Especially when they offer this to you at midnight. Who needs sleep anyways?

It's true, my life has seemed a little bit like "Yes Man" the past few months.

Kebabs at 2 am?

Barcelona for reading week?

Red pants?

Foster The People concert?

Homemade colombian food?

Rock and Roll dancing lessons?

The question is never why, but why not?

Of course, one must keep a certain sense of how drastic to be in order to experience life in another country. Learning the how to fend off creepy men (see story below), get past pissy train ticket sellers, make friends and still get an average of 7 hours of sleep is difficult.

But I get my homework done, find time to "study" by watching youtube videos of french rap songs, and bake brownies for my house family. Taking a gap year has taught me (with my semi-anal perfectionist ways) that at the end of the day, it is about passing. You can't do it all perfectly.

Learning this, before going into a hyper competitive environment with grades, tests, boatloads of homework (Yuuuuuck) and freaking out peers, is excellent. I suggest everyone tries it.

Today I went (indeed at 7am) to Angers with my friendsies. We passed a lovely day of mixing up five languages (English, French, Spanish Italian and German), seeing a chateau and hanging out in random parks. Awkward, uncomfortable and rather amusing incident happened with a "draguer" (someone who creeps on you/hits on you) on the train. This man of a certain age boarded the train with a certain eye towards all the ladies in our group. He then proceeded to try and take photos of some of us (was told off very sternly). He still stared and made creepy faces at us.

Friend: I don't like it. I am a very territorial male, I protect members of my herd.

<3

As we got off the tram he gave his number to a friend and started smoking. We realized that a spectacular opportunity had been missed. She should've asked for a light and burnt the paper with it.

But alas, we can't do it all.

Note to my parents: Can you email me the recipes for the two lasagna's that we use to conquer the world?

Funny story I forgot to tell a while ago. So I was sortiring with a group of my english speaking friends and we were overheard by some less-than-sober french guys. They immediately asked us...

Bourré: Where do you come from?
Friend: Oregon.
Bourré: Where is that?
Friend: Above California. (huge explosion of joy at this statement)
Bourré: AH, California, avec les gros seins!

California, forever more known as the state of big boobs.

Scramble

So one of my favorite weekly sights is a sign in the university resto (not the one I typically go to, the one I go to on Wednesdays when everything is packed) is a handicap sign that says

"Scramble."

Wheelchair picture, then this bizarre word. I'll take a picture when I think of it. I dunno about in France, but in the Estados Unidos "scramble" means to go crazy and run around everywhere.

Why France, why?

Speaking of english, you gotta be careful how loudly you speak on the tram. Overheard two indiscreet British people talking about their weird fetishes with their significant others on the tram.

I didn't need to know that about your girlfriend's feet. Please speak indiscreetly in a less universal language, like Mermish.

Line of the day:

British friend: I can't decide which class to drop.
Friend: Defense against the dark arts.

The word for a blonde person in Colombie is "Mona." In Venezuala it is "Catira." Was chatting with two south american dudes who were very taken with my hair. I've been encouraged to grow my hair out to my waist. They said that I would get all the guys then.

I just may.

Props to a certain student of French for using slang in front of my host siblings. Four days later, they still talk about you. And how not to use semi-naughty words like that.

Je déconne= I'm kidding. Borderline offensive due to the fact that "conn" is naughty.

This is a PG-13 blog. Look it up on the internets if you need bad words.

Slang phrase of the day: Mate la zesgon. "Check out that chick." Slightly derogatory. Mater is slang for "to look" and zesgon is gonzesse but with the syllables versedin.

This weekend, Me and German aupair vs the clubs.