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. 

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!

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"

Things I promise to discuss at a later date

1. Our day trip to the Luberon ('twas beautiful)

2. This evening's nightclub excursion (am not cut out for such things, would prefer to spend Saturday evening in bed doing crossword)

3. French vs. American style (Lilli told us to dress to fit in, but the blisters on my feet suggest that three inch heels were a bad choice, no matter how much I blended [and i didn't, because i was pretty much hobbling within the first hour])

4. My language partner, and why I'm getting a new one

5. Some other stuff maybe. 

Raclette

Tonight I had the most delicious meal ever. So good. Seriously, I don't even want to describe it here because you'll just think it doesn't even sound that exciting, but really, it is. Changed my life, man. 

It is called raclette, after the french racler, which means "to scrape." Basically, you have this huge grill/heating apparatus in the center of the table. On the top level you put boiled potatoes, and on the bottom are these little indentations for the raclette pans, which are perfectly individually sized to fit a slice of raclette. 

The raclette itself is a kind of cheese, and you put a slice in the pan, stick it on the grill, and let it melt. While it's melting, you fork a potato on your plate and mash it up a bit (Catherine peeled hers but Mom always told me that's the healthiest part, and I figured in a meal consisting basically of melted cheese I should jump at the tiniest opportunity to make it healthy), then you take a stubby wooden stick and scrape the (melty and delicious) cheese over your potatoes. This is then topped with serrano ham, thinly sliced salami, and a variety of other unidentifiable but quite tasty cured meats. 

So. Good. 

(The picture is from here, and their setup looks *almost* as good as what we had going on tonight.)

(Also, I've lost seven pounds since I've been here. I'm patenting this diet, it's called "Move to France And Eat Delicious Food All The Time Like Salted Caramels and Crème Brûlée And Lots of Cheese." This is way better than the time I tried to eat grape nuts for breakfast every day. Seriously. Know how many times I've eaten grape nuts since I've been here? ZERO. That's how many.)

Important Lessons.

I lied. I can't stop. There is so much going on here, and to resist discussing every detail is a lot harder than you'd think.

Today I slept in since I didn't have class until 11, and I walked to the corner bakery and had a pain au chocolat for breakfast. Blah blah class etc., then I walked down to the Cours Mirabeau (the main drag) with some friends to get crêpes for lunch. 

I have already eaten plenty of crêpes here--Capucine makes particularly good ones, so I've had crêpes for dinner at least twice and for breakfast three times. My favorite so far was one Catherine made, with eggs, ham, and gruyère...also, I love le saucisson (which literally means sausage, but is more like what we'd think of as salami) so when I saw a crêpe on the menu with saucisse, eggs, and gruyère, I was pretty much the happiest girl in Aix (um, how was I a vegetarian?).

If you are ever in France, let me clarify one thing: just because two words are almost exactly the same does not mean they signify the same thing. The saucisses on my crêpe this afternoon were, in fact, four overcooked hot dogs sliced lengthwise and tucked in with the cheese and eggs. Bon appétit?

It's okay though, because yesterday I mentioned offhandedly to my host mom that I love foie gras, so for dinner tonight we had several crusty baguettes with a mini-buffet of foie gras, smoked salmon, and salted butter (the butter here is fattier, which also means more delicious), and about a bottle and a half of white wine. All this was spread on the coffee table, and we ate it while watching the French version of Wheel of Fortune. 

Lilli gave us a bunch of lectures this week about how different the French are and what a major cultural adjustment we're all going through, particularly in terms of mealtimes. In some areas this is definitely true, but living with my host family has been pretty comfortable thus far. 

Tonight I had a three hour conversation with my host mom (in French!) talking about Minnesota vs. North Carolina, the moodiness of teenage daughters, politics in France and America, welfare, panhandlers, and being in a culture different from your own (when she was a student she spent a year studying in Seattle so she gets it). She was talking about me living with them, and demanded to know why I never opened the fridge. 

"Um...Lilli told us not to...she said in France, you wait for things to be offered, and I didn't want to be rude..." 

"Mais non! We are French, but we are not so French. If you are hungry, you eat. If you are thirsty, you take something to drink. You are another daughter here!"

Catherine went on to say how she was glad things are turning out so well, and to always be honest and assertive and not feel like I have to tiptoe around the house. 

"If you want to do something else and not eat here, just tell me. If you want to go out with friends, go out with friends. There will be ups and downs. If you want to cry, you can cry here or you can cry in your room. You can come talk to me or not. You are like a daughter, but it is important that you know you have freedom."

Tonight was a little bit perfect.