Ten Things I'm Excited To Be Home For

1. Hot showers.
2. Texting people and not worrying about the outrageous pay-as-you-go phone plan.
3. English movies without subtitles.
4. Peanut butter and burritos. (Not at the same time.)
5. Sewing machines.
6. Upper-division film classes.
7. Israeli folk dance.
8. Stress-free grocery shopping.
9. Thrift stores.
10. Hugs. :)

The Good, The Bad, and The Weird

(Full Disclosure: I haven't seen that movie.)

The Good

Today Faith and I had an awesome study party next to the Chateau de Vincennes. Even though we studied (ugh) some schoolwork type stuff (gross), it was really awesome because it was beautiful and warm out, I ate a ham sandwich with tons of butter, and there was a moat!

Serious thinkers.

We also took some quality portraits.

The Bad

The other day, when I got onto the RER, the turnstile machine thing wasn't working, so my ticket didn't get stamped. When leaving the RER, since I didn't have a stamped ticket, I figured I would just walk out behind my friend who had a Navigo pass and everything would be cool. FALSE! Everything was not cool. I got in trouble with the POLICE.

Sad times.

Apparently what I should have done in that situation was use a fresh metro ticket to get out. Didn't even know you could do that. Dumb American here. Anyway, they thought I was just scamming the system, so they gave me a ticket. But I was nice and tried really hard to explain everything and was clearly very apologetic, so they gave me a smaller fine (25€ instead of 50€) and by the end of it we were all good friends. The guy who pulled me aside actually held up my tickets and very deliberately explained which one I was supposed to use and which one I was supposed to throw away. And we all parted ways with love and mutual respect warming our hearts.

But I still cried a lot.

Anyway, on the plus side I can now make jokes about that one time I got in trouble with the po-po.

And on the other, completely unrelated side, they don't even know who I am. They were just like, "Pay us!" and then gave me a receipt and let me go. I find that surprising. But I don't know that much about the fuzz, so maybe that's how these things always work.

Or maybe France is just weird.

The Weird

I saw a guy emptying his catheter bag on the street yesterday.

So yeah.

I made soup!

I have like, the worst cold in the entire world, and today after school I got really frustrated that I haven't been able to find any nice hot minestrone, so I just opened up the window, yelled "I'm mad as hell and I'm not gonna take it anymore!" and went to the open market to get some vegetables.

It wasn't the best soup ever. I used some really low quality hamburger and bouillon, which kind of made it taste like feet. Delicious, flavorful feet, but still.

Treat yo self! To soup!

But I just love buying things here. Like, not even buying things I like, like shoes and sweaters and cookies. I just like making purchases because I get to talk to someone who doesn't know I'm American at first and then they figure it out and judge me. It's like a parlor game. It's fun! I get a real kick out of grocery shopping, but open markets are my favorite because the people there are so weird and the process is really confusing and the veggies are super cheap. Today I bought some tomatoes and a zucchini from these two guys, and one of them was peeling a mandarin and he offered me a piece, as a sample or whatever. And I said no thanks because I am morally opposed to trying samples of things I have no intention of buying. And the he was like, "You want, or you don't want?" (But in French and grammatically correct.) And I was like, "I don't want." (But in French and grammatically correct.) And then...well, he handed me half a mandarin anyway. It was really good. And then he realized I don't speak French and I realized that he didn't speak English. Come to think of it, not really sure he spoke French either.

Good times.

Then, after I made a giant pot of soup in a house that's not mine with dishes and tupperware that I'm not 100% sure I'm supposed to use, I went to this really creepy housewares store across the street. It was soooooo huge, and they had so many different types of pillows and so many different kinds of knives and coffee mugs, but there were only like 4 people in there and there was only one kind of tupperware. Seriously. 15 colors of coffee cup and only one size, one color, one style of Tupperware in the whole place. I don't get it.

Anyway, when I was purchasing several of this one kind of tupperware they had, the guy asked me if I had a Conforama card (who has a loyalty card for a housewares store? How often do you need new linens?), and then he asked me if I was interested in getting one. But I wasn't quite sure that that's what he said, so I said, "...no?" instead of "no merci, monsieur!" I don't know if he figured out that I'm not a native French speaker, but it was really awkward and hilarious because he thought I was just being mean, and then I started laughing quietly to myself.

All my best adventures are in checkout lines!

By the way, it really was the creepiest store. The checkout was weird and looked like it was part of this mini loan office that was there too, so I spent a long time looking around before I got in line. And he didn't have a cash register, he just had a regular keyboard and a cashbox. And my shoes were really loud and it echoed. It was eerie.

Dear Friends, Family, And Acquaintances Who Stalk My Blog But Never Comment:

I am not going to extend to the program in Bordeaux, and instead will be coming home in December! Yay! Cut some paper snowflakes, put the lights on the tree, get me something gold and sequined, and buy all the boxes of panettone that you can find, because I'll be home for Christmas, bitches*.

I haven't actually seen this movie.

I know you're all too polite to ask, but I'm sure you're whispering amongst yourselves. Why is she coming home? Did she cry every night? Is her French really that bad? Does she hate fun and adventures? Does she hate cheese? Is she pregnant with the Pope's illegitimate son? Did she get expelled for complaining about her homework? Did she get deported for replacing the Mona Lisa with an impeccable forgery?

 Just checking.

Well, sadly, the answer to all of those questions is no. I love both fun and adventures. I haven't even met the Pope. I'm awesome at French, and I'm actually having a really good time, with negligible homesickness.

The reason I'm coming home is actually pretty mundane. It just doesn't make that much sense for me to stay here for the entire school year, and I really want to start making movies. Like, now. I didn't realize exactly how long 4 months was when I left, and I've realized that it is exactly the amount of time I want to be here. France is fascinating, and if I went to Bordeaux I'm sure I would have an amazing time. (Yes, possibly even a more amazing time that I will back in the States.) But I've already had an amazing experience, just in the time I've spent in Paris. 4 months is nothing to sneeze at, and I think after that it will be time to get back to my regularly scheduled education.

Because it's sexy.

I might not be able to explain why I'm so excited about the classes I get to take at UC Santa Cruz next quarter (let's just say I hope they will include a lot of actual moviemaking and some quality time with Buster Keaton), but you're just going to have to trust me on this one. I have this feeling that if I really throw myself into it, I can make something of myself as a filmmaker (or at least a key grip or a key grip's coffee girl or something), but I have to learn the basics first. So I guess, if you wanted to oversimplify things, you could say I'm going home so I can enroll in Film 170B and learn how to use expensive video equipment. But it's really more of a gut feeling decision. When I was trying to talk myself into staying, it felt wrong, and I was in a constant state of discomfort. But this decision feels right. It's what I'm supposed to be doing, I'm almost positive.

Now that my decision is pretty much final, I'm excited to stop worrying about whether or not I should stay, and instead just enjoy the hell out of the time I have. I'm going to spend the next nine weeks making you all super jealous with my awesome stories and Facebook pictures. I apologize in advance!

This is an awesome story in the form of a Facebook photo.

Now I am going to make you all super jealous by....cleaning my room and writing this paper I've been putting off all weekend! And blowing my nose every minute or two because I'm dying slowly! How much do you wish you were me right now?

*Sorry about the language, it was necessary! :)

The Best Pain Au Chocolat Experience Ever

I know, I know. Pain au chocolat is always a wonderful experience. So delicious! So crispy! So warm!

But I swear, this one was the best.

A lot of times, I will say something to someone in French. It's usually just a word or two, that I'm sure I'm not mispronouncing and have said and heard a million times. "Une baguette s'il vous plait." "Un pain au chocolat, s'il vous plait." "Un café, s'il vous plait."And then the person starts talking to me in English. What! I said that right! I think to myself. I don't think they mean anything by it, they just assume that I don't know anything but the names of pastries in French. Yes, I have been studying French for more than 5 years and I can use the subjunctive (under very special circumstances), but I understand. A lot of Americans in Paris don't know squat! So I don't blame them for speaking English to me, but it makes me feel like I have failed and then I am grouchy for the rest of the day.

But today...oh, today! I walked into this bakery, said hello with a very good accent, and I asked the guy for a pain au chocolat. And he smiled a little bit and said "Yes." Very deliberately, too. Like he was saying, "I know your dark secret! You speak English! Me too!" And I was disappointed for a second, but then he said:

"If you want to seem more Parisian..."

And if you're in a study abroad program in Paris, you probably feel the same way as I do. Seeming Parisian has somehow become my ultimate goal in life. I don't know why, because it doesn't matter at all, but if people ask me directions I do a little dance of joy, and if people offer to point me towards the Eiffel Tower I cry for days. I make all m clothing choices based on blending in. I hide my camera. I hide my map. I carry my textbooks with the covers towards me so no one can see that they're in English. So when he said "If you want to seem more Parisian..." I was instantly hanging on to every lightly accented syllable like he was some kind of messiah.

"If you want to seem more Parisian," he said, "you should say 'pain au chocolat.'"

Now, you're probably wondering what the difference between "pain au chocolat" and "pain au chocolat" is. I was too! At first I thought he meant I had said it wrong, but then I realized what he was saying was that I should not use a liaison between the n of pain and the a of au.

Side note for you non-Francophones: 
Generally you don't pronounce the last consonant in a word, unless the next word begins with a vowel sound. For example: 
"Je suis très cool." = Zjhe swee tray cool. = I am very cool.
"Je suis interessant." = Zjhe sweez anterressant. = I am interesting.
Hey, I never said French was easy. (Wait, did anyone ever say French was easy? They were lying to you.)


He explained very nicely that I was actually grammatically correct to use a liason, but that you would never catch a Frenchperson saying "pan-oh-shock-oh-lah."And then he sent me on my merry way, pai(n) au chocolat in hand, with an awesome new tactic for seeming French. :)

I love when people help you learn French instead of just brushing you off.

It was a beautiful moment.

My life is so quirky right now.

So, first of all I have a really important story to tell you. Last night I was in one of the major chain grocery stores, FranPrix, and I saw a mouse scamper across the aisle right in front of me. It went under the fresh produce area. I just started cracking up in the middle of the store. It was the best thing ever.

Adorably weird things seem to be happening to me all the time now. I made small talk in French with a drunk architect while she walked to the metro station. I saw a girl dance with a boy who was on a train across the platform from her and then sign him her number. I saw a hipster roller skating (yes, on skates) like it wasn't super nerdy. Some drunk guy gave my friend a French dictionary and wrote his number in it! Life is good. There is no end of amusement for me on the streets of Paris(/Lyon).

But yeah, basically things are cute right now. I got home today and my host mom had cleaned my room. (PS, super awkward, right? I've never had this little privacy. I'm always worried that she'll judge me for reading terrible books or see the spoon I use to eat yogurt when I'm at school that I never wash or find my stash of crack cocaine.*) She had taken Iceland, my stuffed bunny who I generally hide shamefully under the bed because I am 20 years old and sometimes sleep with a rabbit, and put him under my lap blanket. Which is both nice, because I don't have to hide poor Iceland anymore, and hilarious, because she put him under the blanket.

Who's a cozy wabbit? You're a cozy wabbit! Yes you are!

 The other awesome thing in my life is actually something I initiated. We're reading The Stranger by Albert Camus in French, and the cover was kind of stupid. So I, uh... improved it.

JAZZ HANDS!

I keep on seeing it on the metro and laughing to myself like a crazy person. I'm pretty sure no one else gets it, but come on. Mersault! In a top hat! With a cane! So yeah, that basically made my life.

And this isn't really cute or quirky or charming, but LOOK HOW MUCH YOGURT I BOUGHT. I have decided to prioritize traveling and having adventures over food in my budget, so I have invested in a few filling and nutritious staples for my lunches. I'm really excited by their giant multi-flavor packs of yogurt here. Like, really excited. I walked the mile home with 18 cups of yogurt under my arm. I felt pretty cool.

Also, this picture is deceptive. There is absolutely no light in the kitchen. Well, there's a window and one light, but the light isn't very bright to begin with, and there's a weird chimney thing or something in the middle of the kitchen, so one side has no light sources at all. The shutter speed on this was 1.3. Just saying. That's a lot for a fridge picture taken at noon.

*Just kidding. I don't smoke drugs.