An Evening Well-Spent?

My mom is coming to visit tomorrow, so I busied myself this afternoon with various chores & whatnot. I folded and put away my laundry, washed my sheets, organized my dresser so as to appear I do not live with makeup constantly scattered across my room. 

This evening I sent résumés and cover letters to various organizations in search of a summer internship (know anyone?). I took a measly hour to have tomato and feta salad and a glass of rosé with my host mom. 

I dabbled in homework, sent some emails, finally buckled down around midnight and got some work done. The cat played with a lilac petal on the floor, dashed around the bed a bit, purred. 

Then I smelled something horrible, and searched the room for a bit until I found that he had pooped in the freshly-cleaned sheets of my bed. I ran to the bathroom to grab some toilet paper, and as I reached for the doorknob I heard retching sounds from across the room, and turned just in time to watch Vanille the Calico vomit all over the freshly cleaned floor. 

Catherine was still up in the living room, heard me laughing at the ridiculousness of it all, and came to survey the scene. That is how we ended up giggling in my room at four AM, unsuccessfully trying to find another set of sheets to fit my bed, while Capucine yelled at us from the next room to shut up.

And I still haven't finished my homework. 

The (sometimes risqué) wisdom of French women

Tonight at dinner I learned the following things from my French mom:

1. I need to buy more sexy underwear. I guess she does my laundry, so she's allowed to have an opinion on it, but I worked at Victoria's Secret & had a killer discount for awhile, so I'm hardly wearing Bridget Jones-style control top underthings all the time. (NB: When you work at VS, you are not allowed to say "underwear." True story.) Nonetheless, apparently that je ne sais quoi starts at the very bottom, with satin and lace.

2. I should wear my hair down all the time. Instead of thinking "I look like I just dug my way out of prison with a spork" when I look in the mirror, I should think "I look like Brigitte Bardot in 'And God Created Woman,' and am equally sexy if not more." Also, should not part hair. Instead, let it flop casually over to one side.

3. I should wear a tiny bit of makeup every day. 

4. Live it up while you're young. You will never be this pretty or um, perky, again. 

5. Talk often about the person you love, it gives you a glow and makes your eyes light up. 

6. Seriously, real men just don't do telephones. Give it up. 

7. Also, boys who buy you flowers in a country whose language they don't speak, or for that matter, who fly halfway around the world to see you, should be kept around. These are the good ones. (Needless to say, she really liked Matt.)

8. You will remember three hour dinners and cafés and conversation in twenty years. You will not remember your grades, or the homework you didn't do. Just let it go once in awhile. 

Tonight was lovely, and just what I needed. 

Paris!

It was lovely. Our favorite part was lounging around in the gardens of Versailles. Also good was eating an entire box of 18 Ladurée macarons. Worth it. I am sleepy, so this will have to suffice for today. I *promise* to write more later. 

 

In other news, my mom is coming to visit for spring break! I cannot wait. 

Caramel Tea and Oscar Wilde.

I wrote a friend an email today, and realized just how full of complaints I have been lately. I am homesick, they have no Mexican food here (please: if you love me, you will send me salsa. Or even better, a burrito, packed in dry ice.), no one sends me letters.*

And then I realized...I am in Provence, studying nothing remotely related to science, surrounded by cafés and cobblestones and living in a town with more than one papeterie. 

I have nothing to complain about. 

So I decided to have a Lovely Day. I slept in, made pesto for lunch, went to the library with Arielle, and got fries from a sidewalk stand. 

There is a bookstore in Aix, Book in Bar, that has become a little haven for all us English speakers. So today, in pursuit of my Lovely Day, I went to Book in Bar, ordered a pot of Caramel Tea (delicious), and did all my homework before 3pm. I have pretty significant ADD, so even doing my homework is a triumph, but completing it during daylight hours? Unheard of. 

I walked out around five with a book of Oscar Wilde quotations and a bit of a stomachache. Four cups of tea will do that to you. 

*This is a genuine complaint. I share a mailbox with A. Adams, who has gotten three packages and six letters in the past three weeks. Every time I look in the mailbox, my heart does a little flutter to see that it's full, and then a horrible plummet when I realize it's, yet again, for Ashlee. 

Back soon...

I promise. At which point I will have updates on Paris, Matt's visit, and the tragic goodbye when I got all weepy and runny nosed in the Marseilles airport. And the bus. And my Société Française class. 

Homesickness has been quietly settling in lately, but it hit me like a wall of bricks when Matt left.

Also, they don't have real tortilla chips and salsa. How am I supposed to fill the void created by my absent boyfriend without the most delicious of all food pairings?!

This is what Matt has done since he arrived:

Jet lag, you know. Tomorrow night we leave for Paris!

Happy St. Patty's Day!

On my way home tonight, I heard a car horn that played "Dixie," and I got a bit wistful for NC. If you live there, enjoy the barbecue and delicious Mexican food while you've got it!