I'm off!

I leave tomorrow morning for Menton, and from there to Florence. I'm terrified, since I'll be all by my lonesome...we'll see how it goes. Yikes. Also, I'm not bringing my computer (I have an addiction, and it needs to be stopped.) so I'll be neglecting this until I get back next weekend!

Love times a million, 

Lila

An Open Letter

Dear Indiana Pizza, 

I was only in Indiana for a brief period of time, but I think you're a little off the mark. Just for comparison's sake, here is a photo of Indiana:

As you can see, there do not seem do be any cacti, deserts, cowboys, or indeed, indians. 

Nice try though. 

Love, 

Lila

Yoga and My Awesome Boyfriend.

This is why Matt is the best:

A Valentine's package!

I don't know if you can see the background, but that is chocolate, some sweet homemade coupons, a teddy bear, and a big ol' bottle of Aunt Jemima's, my friends. 

This part is key. Most fellas would be foolish enough to think that I would prefer some real Vermont maple syrup, straight from the tree, but not Matt! He understands that I am just an Aunt Jemima kind of girl, and I think maple syrup is kind of ick. And he does not even judge me for it, even though it's a little lowbrow. 

 This kind of mutual understanding is the key to having a successful relationship, seriously.

The Mystery Strawberry.

I found this in the street today. First person to figure out what it is gets a postcard from Florence! My best guess so far is a placecard holder, but why it would be lying in the street is beyond me. 

I had my yoga class this morning. The instructor is a tiny blond woman, and at first I wasn't sure how I felt about her because she kept addressing me in English, and I'm all "Dude, I understood it the first time, stop calling me out on being American!" But THEN I totally owned and did the headstand pose that she said first-timers rarely accomplish, and she announced how awesome I was and everyone applauded. BAM. I win, yoga. 

Mom, thanks for signing me up for gymnastics when I was five. I never did get the split, but my sweet headstand skills turned out to be quite useful. 

postscript

Hannah Montana exists in France too. Oh dear God.

How to know you're assimilating

Today a small child was wailing in H & M. 

My normal reaction is "Oh, poor dear, you are so charming even with your face scrunched up! Come live with me and I will cuddle you and pinch your cheeks and buy you tiny child-sized things."

Today it was "WHY IS THAT MOTHER NOT YELLING AT HER CHILD WHO IS HORRIBLY MISBEHAVING?!"

In France, disciplining your child in public shows you are doing your job as a parent. In the US, you are publicly humiliating him/her and permanently destroying a fragile ego. I exaggerate, but only a smidge.

a lovely night.

Today was marvellous!

Victoire, Catherine's eighteen year old daughter, is visiting for the weekend. She is amazing! So effervescent and friendly, and great fun to be around. Having here here definitely diffuses some of the tension between Catherine and Capucine too, so that's nice.

Today some old family friends came to visit, and it was just the loveliest day! Gerard--or tonton, as Capucine & Victoire call him--made some delicious pizza, so we snacked on that before a lunch of some yummy Provencal dish with lots of meat in it. For dessert--chocolate chip cookies!

Then we spent the afternoon wandering around town, having great fun. One of the things I love about Aix is that despite its size, I almost always run into people I know on the street! Today I saw a couple friends from my program while we were out, which was nice. Catherine saw me admiring a pair of earrings in a shop, so she bought them for me! What a lovely and generous family I'm living with. 

Tonight, we had the rest of Gerard's pizza and a salad, and for dessert Capucine and I microwaved cookie dough in little ramekins, and everyone oohed and ahhed about how delicious it was. After dinner, we listened to old music on the record player (no, really, this is my life) and danced! Turns out my waltzing and polka-ing skills come in handy!

Tonton & Tata (which is what everyone calls Gerard & Mariette--it means uncle and auntie) have been married 44 years, and they are the sweetest couple! They were showing off their swing dance moves to Bill Haley and the Comets, and later dancing cheek to cheek to some Frank Sinatra. Below is the four seconds worth of video I got before my memory card filled up!

What a lovely Valentine's Day!

Happy Saint Valentin!

I hope you are all surrounded by people you love this weekend. I am making chocolate chip cookies with this recipe. I actually made the dough last night, and it is sitting in the fridge the requisite 36 hours. I confess, I had a little bit for breakfast this morning. 

France doesn't seem to care much about this holiday, except that some restaurants are offering free glasses of champagne tomorrow night. Personally, I have mixed emotions. My slightly cynical side thinks it is silly to have a holiday just people feel obligated to buy cards and chocolates, when you should really being showing you love and appreciate those around you all the time (something I need to do more of)...on the other hand, I really want to break out the doilies and construction paper. 

This is the garland I made! I have discovered the macro setting, can you tell?

My favorite Valentine's Day was with Matt freshman year, when we ate pizza in my room and I forced him to watch select scenes from The Notebook against his will. I remember having all these conversations with my mom when we were first dating, like "Why doesn't he like girly movies?" and "Why doesn't he want to stay on the phone for six hours at a time?" and "I just don't understand why he would rather play video games or watch Mystery Science Theater 3000 than sing showtunes or read poetry or something!" and she had to gently explain to me that perhaps he is just a boy and that is why.

And I quite like him, so I have agreed not to play ABBA music in the car, but when we go on long drives I like to sing showtunes to pass the time, and he is just fine with that. 

Just think of all the coloring I can do!

Today I discovered Michel, the papeterie, and I bought myself this for Valentine's Day. These are my favorite pens/markers EVER, and I didn't think they sold them here. There are twenty different colors! I am so excited. Thanks for the Valentine's money, Daddy!

I am just not highbrow enough for this sort of thing...

I had my wine tasting class today. It was quite entertaining, and the prof is a lovely aging man who wears cozy knit sweaters and knows lots about wine. 

I think he makes it up as he goes along. 

For this one red we were tasting, he made us close our eyes while we sniffed and imagine a setting. 

"This wine smells of walking through the forest in autumn, the smell of leaves and rotting wood, and mushrooms, maybe truffles...ah yes, and there is a wild boar nearby!"

Um, what? 

deathly ill

Theatre class suits me, being incredibly melodramatic and all. I was feeling gross and sick from the moment I woke up today, so halfway through I turned to my friend Allison. 

"Je suis en train de mourir."

And after class, I went home. I drugged myself up, Catherine brought me tea, and I read a bit and then slept for six hours. She tells me I have a fever, but at home nothing under 101 really qualifies as sick, so I am dubious. 

Now, I am up late doing homework for tomorrow, and I am determined to be well because it is an action and excitement filled day--class, volunteering at the school, wine tasting class, and yoga. I cannot afford to be sick, so I am on a continuous cycle of alternating pain relievers until I'm all better. 

I am actually really enjoying doing this homework, which I don't think has happened since Ms. Hamilton's English class junior year of high school. This is what it's like to enjoy learning! I had forgotten. After the  hell that was high school, I think I built Carleton up so much in my mind that it was bound to fall short...and I haven't taken many classes that excited me to the point where I enjoyed doing the reading. 

The class I'm doing work for right now, Littérature du Voyage, is taught by a young prof named Sylvie. I've only been to one class so far, but we looked at old maps, talked about pirates, buccaneers, and filibusters (the piratey kind, not the senatorial kind), and learned the etymological origins of the word barbecue.*

Needless to say, I am smitten. 

In theatre, we are working on three short scenes, all farcical and dating pretty far back. My friend Moze and I had discussed wanting to do something contemporary, so we spoke with the prof and he recommended a few pieces for us to look at, and if we find something we like we can work on it independently and present it with the others at the end of the term. I am mad excited, and fully intend to pick something horribly sad to exploit the fragile emotions of my peers. 

Sorry for the lack of pretty pictures. Maybe tomorrow. 

*The buccaneers would roast a goat on a spit "de la barbe a la queue"--from the beard to the tail--and then eat it. Yum, except I have a soft spot for goats after Camp Celo and could never ever eat one. 

ah mon dieu! or, the words of capucine.

Scenario: We are standing at the ATM. Nearby, some middle school-aged kids are making a racket and generally being irritating. Capucine, ever the cool aixoise, is perfectly coiffed and made up, wearing all black and grey and a giant pair of aviators. 

Capucine (muttering): Ohh la la la la*....ah mon dieu. Oh mai gohd. (Sometimes Capu uses English phrases when she is irritated and/or being facetious or funny, but she pronounces each word distinctly and she has an extremely heavy French accent. )

Catherine: Qu'est-ce que c'est, ma chérie? (What is it, sweetie?)

Capucine: Les jeunes aujourd'hui...ils sont insupportable! (Young people today....they are unbearable!)

(She is fifteen going on twenty five.)

*This is pronounced "oh loh loh" rather than "oo lah lah"

Une Salade

Tonight I ate a salad that contained the following ingredients:

lettuce

tomatoes

bacon (sort of. it's not quite american bacon, but yummy nonetheless.)

potato slices

melted raclette 

a single poached egg

balsamic vinaigrette (homemade obviously) (i was just thisclose to using obvs as an abbreviation for obviously. unacceptable!)

it was delish. (this is an acceptable abbreviation, i swear)

Tomorrow (at 8am! jeez louise. i am now used to waking late and taking two hour lunches. i can never go back to the states...) I meet with the director of the school I'll be volunteering at. I'm going to be working with mentally disabled kids aged 7+, which should be a lot of fun. 

To get into the Saint Valentin spirit I made a garland of tiny hearts for my room with white paper and pale blue thread and scotch tape, and it makes me happy. I love my room here, even the giant horse poster on the wall. 

I need to make train reservations for my winter vacation, which starts february 21 (and for when Matthew Dearest visits in March and we go to Paris, hurrah!). I'm going to visit Emily in Menton for the lemon festival, and then I'm going to Florence. I'm really excited but kind of terrified because I've never really traveled alone, especially to a country where I don't speak the language. Also, I'm totally embarrassed to admit this since I'm twenty years old, but my mom usually does this sort of thing (booking travel and sleeping arrangements) for me and I'm not entirely sure I can do it alone without any major missteps. 

It sort of just hit me that I have to be a real grown up in just over a year, with a job and rent and massive amounts of debt and everything. I am so not ready for such things. 

More Unrelated Amusements

A Friendly Visit

Emily is here! For those who don't know, we have been friends since we were fifteen, and she is the Diana Barry-style "kindred spirit" to my Anne Shirley, except she is considerably fiestier and I have never gotten her drunk on currant wine. She's been in Menton, near the Italian border, since mid-September and this weekend she came to visit!

It's been so fun having her here--Friday we had dinner with my host family, and somehow an hour turned into five. Catherine looooves her, and wants her to come when we go to St. Tropez in the spring. Hurrah!

On the other hand, we had dinner last night with some of my friends from the program, and it was a little rough. It's always a bit of a harrowing experience trying to mix friend groups, but last night was really...not fun. No one asked her any questions, and it drove me nuts. Also, since Emily is doing a direct enrollment program, she's used to being around people from around the world, and after five months she's very aware of cultural norms here in France...needless to say, all my friends came off as being painfully American.

I was warned before I came that there would be ups and downs, and I think I'm in the midst of a downturn. As much fun as I have with my friends here, it's really hard to really get to know anyone when you're always in a large group. There's no chance for one-on-one, and you end up having all these relationships which are lots of fun but don't necessarily dip below the surface. I miss being around people who really know me. 

Unrelated Amusements

This is just like the time i got my wisdom teeth out, except i was seventeen and therefore less cute/amusing.

via for me, for you

Decisions, Decisions.

friends in the luberon...

I made the mistake of going to the theatre class today, just for kicks...I say mistake only because now I know what I'll be missing if I take archeology instead. The professor is this skinny bald bespectacled man, which would endear me to him even if he weren't amazing because my director in high school (who probably had a bigger influence on me than anyone else save my parents) was a skinny bald bespectacled man, and also more creatively insightful and brilliant than anyone else I've known. 

The class covers a bit of historical business, and then for the second half of the period we rehearse scenes in French. It was SO FUN, and time flew in a way I know it just isn't going to in archeology class. I love that material, but being as ADD as I am I cannot sit still and listen to a lecture/watch a slideshow for 3 hours with only a ten minute break...at least not without checking the clock every so (re: much too) often. But if I want to do an independent study in archeology next year, this class would help significantly. 

I'm so torn, and it doesn't seem like that big of a deal except that it's the story of my life right now: passion vs. practicality. I'm doing geo more out of a desire not to make minimum wage than out of love, and honestly? I'd be a lot happier as an English major. If anyone has any advice/life lessons or just wants to tell me what to do, I welcome your emails. 

my darling friend arielle keeps me laughing. 

she is also stunningly beautiful and has the personality to back it up.

Everyone has started getting packages from home with letters and Valentine's goodies and love, so I want to make sure all my darling friends and family know how to reach me the old fashioned way, just in case! Email just doesn't replace the tangibility of a handwritten note. My address is:

c/o AUCP

19, cours des Arts-et-Métiers

13100 Aix-en-Provence, FRANCE

 I have four sheets left of the lovely stationery I got for Christmas and I'm hankering to write some letters, so drop me a note if you want a personalized update with my illegible handwriting all over it. Love you all!

love love love

graffiti like this makes me happy. 

Pain et Vin

This is a photo of France in the wintertime. Owned, Minnesota. 

I'm a little burnt out, so I'm gonna do this list-style. 

1. Yesterday we went to the Luberon. It was beautiful, even though it was winter and a bit chilly. We met a little French girl named Laurie and her puppy (a mini Jake!) in a café, and they were the cutest things I have seen in a long while. 

The town of Gordes, home of small child and adorable puppy. 

2. I got assigned a language partner, and he was pretty nice, but there were little things that sketched me out and made me not want to be alone with him:

a. Um, hi, we met five minutes ago, I don't care how cold you think I am in this fifty degree weather, get your damn hands off my collarbone. No, I do not need you to adjust my scarf.

b. I look like one of the girls in the movie Charlie's Angels, but you don't know which one? Let's see, we can rule out the gorgeous blonde and the Asian. Drew Barrymore? You think she's incredibly beautiful? Thanks...I am uncomfortable being complimented on my physical appearance by strange men, and I have a pretty swell boyfriend. 

c. No, I really don't want to wait for you to smoke outside the restaurant when all my friends are inside. Seriously, I'm not cold. Don't put your coat on me! Yes, I understand you think this is freezing, but I do not. You are being quite gentlemanly, but this isn't a date so cut it out. Did I mention my big strong boyfriend who's at least six inches taller than you?

d. You play rugby? Sweet! I used to play rugby. This means I know how sketch most rugby guys are. Yes, I probably could tackle you; no, I don't want to try in the middle of this crowded room. 

e. We met an hour ago, and you already want to bring me home to meet your mother in Marseille? Um...what? She makes good couscous, you say. I could stay with you? How convenient! You know who else lets me stay with her? The mother of my boyfriend. I bet she makes pretty good couscous too. He's of Norwegian descent...the Vikings were a proud and jealous people. Violent, too. Seriously though, please don't try to feed me your dessert. 

f. I'm a big girl. I don't need to be walked home. No, seriously, it's okay. I'd really feel better on my own. 

At first I wondered if I was just being paranoid or misinterpreting cultural differences, but I think there's something to be said for intuition. After meeting the language partners of some of my friends, I feel better about my decision to switch--they are totally chill and not sketch and don't do the creepy "you are all such beautiful girls" routine every five minutes. Only problem is, tonight he called my house. Thankfully, my host mom did a very convincing routine pretending I was on skype and yadda yadda she can't go out for coffee tonight, but I think if it happens again I need to just do what I dread and tell him I won't be able to meet up...ever. Avoidance is my chosen method for dealing with most unpleasant situations, but perhaps it's time to grow up and learn to be direct. 

Provence is known for its lavender. It's harvested in August, but there's enough to last the rest of the year. 

3. In my French Cultural Patterns class, we discussed a study an anthropologist did a while back about physicality of couples in different cultures. He observed romantically involved couples at restaurants and counted each time they touched each other (a kiss, a hug, holding hands, etc) within an hour long period. Here are the results:

London: 0

Jacksonville: 8

San Juan: 20

Paris: 110

Impressive, no? I thought this was really interesting. And given the couples I've seen around here, I believe it. Once I was just walking down the Cours Mirabeau, and I saw a couple come out of a restaurant, share a passionate, several minute goodbye kiss...and then walk off together. It's like all those pictures of train station kisses in WWII (side note: Life magazine photo archive on Google? Awesome.), the "I don't know if I will ever see you again alive so let's make it count" kind, except with more groping and no wars. 

I have homework to do, so I'm gonna call it quits for today. I miss and love you all!