Posts
On Monday I am returning to Canada. Yay!!! All I have to do is get through the grueling journey and I will be in the home of takeaway coffee, public washrooms and refrigerated milk.
My journey isn't grueling in the way, say, it was in 1867 when you had to ride a horse to the train station, take a train to the coast, take a ferry across the English Channel and then take 2 week boat journey across the Atlantic surrounded by puking children and rats.
Rather, it's grueling in the way that I have to wake up at 5:30 am to catch the train to the airport, spend 3 bored hours in the airport, take a 10 hour flight to Chicago, spend a bored 5 hours in Chicago, take a 2.5 hour flight to Toronto and then wait in the arrivals hall for my mother, who has invariably left our house the exact time my flight has landed due to a warped sense of time it takes to get my baggage (but dear, it will take 30 min. to get baggae. NO MOM THIS ISN'T THE 1970S it takes me 4 minutes and a bathroom break to get to the arrivals hall).
Friday 18 December 2009
Snow day??
In 1999 Toronto called in the Canadian army to shovel snow. I put on some gloves and went to school.
In 2009, it snowed overnight in the Loire Valley. It resembled a mild case of dandruff. By 3 pm it had melted entirely. All school transport was immediately cancelled, firemen were on high alert and trucks refused to drive uphill.
Culture shock event #112.
In 2009, it snowed overnight in the Loire Valley. It resembled a mild case of dandruff. By 3 pm it had melted entirely. All school transport was immediately cancelled, firemen were on high alert and trucks refused to drive uphill.
Culture shock event #112.
Tuesday 15 December 2009
The French Brown
French women have a colour palette that they stick too. Gd forbid they diverge and add a splash of yellow or pink.
They prefer to stick to
1. Grey
2. Black
3. Brown
4. What I refer to as "kaka brown"
Kaka brown is not a deep rich brown, but a brown with a hint of burgandy. It's awful, but the French can't get enough.
They will wear a shiny, quilted coat in this colour over cordouroy pants in this colour. They will probably often own a few sweaters as well.
This bodes well for me at sales time, because all the actual colours are left.
I don't know why they like this particular shade of brown, it does nothing for them. Half the time the sky is dreary and you would think that they would want to cheer themselves up.
There aren't that many blondes also so you see French women with boring brown hair, with a boring brown coat, over boring brown pants (that are always an inch to short to cover their heels) over black pointed boots.
These brown coats are always reflectively shiny. It makes them look cheap, but I'm sure they are expensive. And always quilted. We wear those coats in Canada too, but it is cold in Canada, and we wear them in non-shiny colours. Why don't they buy a nice peacoat here where the weather permits it?
While I am on this subject I might as well describe the typical French women over 30.
Her hair is short, of course, for she chops it off around 30. That is why there are a million and one hairdressers in my tiny town, French women are in them all the time making sure their hair stays short.
She wears funky glasses.
There is also a funky scarf, maybe with pompoms on the end. Usually patterned.
Underneath the coat there is usually a turtleneck, over which there is a sweater. Usually in brown, but maybe in grey or black.
The pants are rarely jeans, or proper work trousers but are in an interesting (unflattering) material like cordordory. Like I said before, even though French women are short, the pant is never quite long enough to cover the boot.
To their credit, they don't wear running shoes/uggs and sweatpants out like some people I know (ahem) in Canada.
* all pics are from Etam, a popular woman's store in Europe. (except last photos which are from Roots)
Leuven vs Sable
Today's post is a comparison between the time I spent in Leuven (2007-2008) to my time in Sablé.
Obviously they are different since I was studying abroad in Leuven and I'm working here, but they are both small towns in neighbouring countries in Europe.
Language
Sablé: I am actually trying to learn French here and knew a tiny bit before I came. But no one here speaks English except for the English teachers. The French are Proud with a capital P of their language. That is good if you are trying to learn French because it forces you to speak it. On the other hand it can be super frustrating and it's hard to make close friends since you can't get beyond basic subjects.
Leuven: I never attempted to learn Flemish except for "Ik sprake hein flems" (I don't speak Flemish) and "een Broodje austoblief (A sandwich if you please). But I didn't have to since literally everyone spoke English. This also made living so much easier since I could communicate about mundane things like my cell phone bill and I could also make friends with natives, unlike in France.
Nightlife
Obviously Leuven wins. No need for categories. I don't think I was ever sober for a whole week. Leuven is a student town though and known for it's beer and bars.
Transportation
From Leuven I could be in Brussels in 20 min. for 3 euros. It takes me 25 Euro and an hour and a half to go to Paris. Neither is bad, but it was easier to travel when getting to the airport was cheaper. That said, I pretty much went everywhere I wanted to go while I was in Leuven so I didn't really care about traveling outside of France this year. Both train systems are nice and comfortable, but Belgium is way cheaper.
Cost
Neither country is prohibitavley expensive, but Belgium is cheaper. And chocolate is cheaper. That's pretty much all that matters, obviously. Cheese is around the same price, but Diet Coke is more expensive in France, but also better. (Diet Coke changes flavours in each country, trust me, I know Coke like French people know wine)
Food
I know France is known for it's food, and that's a well-deserved reputation, but I'm a vegetarian so I can't try most of it. What I have tried, the bread, cheese, bakery goods, is delicious. What isn't delicious are the sandwiches. France makes horrible sandwiches. The bread is awful- it's this white, pasty chewy thing,and the toppings are meagre, I don't really know what their thinking. Belgium on the other hand, makes wonderful sandwiches. The bread is thick, crusty and fresh and the toppings are varied and plentiful. mmmmm my mouth is watering just thinking about it. Also, Belgium has fresh waffles. and O-M-G the chocolate. And for some reason Leuven also had amazing gelato. For 1 euro you could get a huge scoop of 'Ferrero Rocher" or 10 other amazing flavours. (and miraculously I actually lost weight in Belgium, it is to this day the mystery of my life since I existed entirely on waffles, currys, sandwiches and chocolate)
Men
Belgium wins. Sorry France. I am just not into the crunchy gel that French guys put into their hair. Also Belgium guys are way taller than Frenchies. Not that Belgium guys are so great, they are all obsessed with relationships, reserved to the point of coldness and obsessively wear striped shirts, but they are tall, speak English and friendly when drunk.
Women
This is just in my humble opinion, but I still don't know what all the fuss is about concerning French girls. Belgium girls , while not my style, took a lot of care in their appearance. They also didn't wear makeup or do their hair, but they all wore long skirts, boots, stockings and a high necked shirt- all the a grey/brown palette of course. Again, not my style, but it worked for them.
French girls are never sloppy, but they also never take fashion risks. Everything they wear is a staple. Also, they don't wear makeup or do their hair, and wear really drab, depressing colours, similar to the Belgian colours. You think because both of their countries are so dreary they would wear some pink. But no. Frankly, I'm just not impressed by either country's women, but men have vehemently disagreed with me.
And frankly, the men in both countries dress way better than the women.
Working hours
Neither country works a lot. I guess people in Leuven worked more than people in Sablé, but not by much. In both countries banks are closed for lunch and everything is closed on Sundays. This is probably this biggest difference between Canada and Europe. Grocery stores are open 24/7 where I live (granted in a big city) and the mall is open 10-8 on Sundays (previously 10-5, oh my).
But the French strike more, and they seem to really strive towards a "work to live" existence, where their priorities are not advancing in a career, but enjoying life. (good for them but not for me)
+Class System
I think this has to do with the fact that there is such a class system in place in Europe, even now. People don't often think beyond their station. So if their parents are working class, than they will be too. They don't even try anything else. I once asked my class what part of France their grandparents had come from and 28/30 had actually lived in the same town. Imagine if your grandparents, and possibly your great-grandparents had lived in the same town, working in the same profession (often brick-making or at the chicken factory) There's not really an "American Dream" where you work hard, go to university, move to a city and get a career. They would rather stay in their region around their families and what is familiar. There is also this intense regionalism, where French people looooooove their region (and then their country). That's why in a tiny country like France you have 10 different dialects, and in a tinier country like Belgium you also have 10 different dialects of Flemish. It's bizzare, but these Europeans stick to what they know and like it that way.
Saturday 12 December 2009
Chronic-ism
I have serious temporal problems. Problems with time. Problems with being on time. And this problem has cost me big time in regards to money and missed oppourtunity. I think it should be my birthday resolution to fix this chronic problem, lest I be fired at my first real job.
This problem however seems to be unfixable. No matter how early I leave for something, something happens on the way and I am still late.
However, being late all the time has some major advantages. Namely that it has managed to make me pretty tough. After you miss your first trans-atlantic flight, it's hard to rattle you.
Here is a list of times where being late has cost me big time:
1. Summer of 2009. Missed flight from Israel to New York (and then New York to Toronto).
I left 4 hours early. I decided to take public transportation. I got on the wrong train. I got on the right train. I decided to get off train and take cab, throwing whatever American money I had at Shmuli, the driver. I got to the airport with 30 minuites to spare, but check in had closed and they wouldn't let me on. I cried. They didn't feel sorry for me. The flight was insured so they just moved me to the next flight. My connecting flight from New York to Toronto, however, was not insured so I had to buy a new flight. I spent the day in an internet cafe trying to book another flight listening to some Spanish guy declare his undying love for a girl over Skype.
Then I had to put my luggage back in the hostel where I had been staying, only to run into the Danish guy I had made out with the night before, thinking I would never see him again. Can you say "awkward?"
But I was so tired from staying up the whole night before drinking Israeli Ouzo and smoking hash, and so frustrated from missing my flight, and so sweaty from being in the freakin desert, that I didn't really care.
2. Winter 2008. Missing Eurostar train from London to Brussels after flying in from Toronto.
I wrote about this in my other blog, Flemish Beer, but I will rehash. Basically I spent the afternoon shopping. I didn't realize how long the buses could take in London so I missed my train and there was no later train. I was a wreck, from being jetlagged and from having to carry ALL my luggage around all day, but lucklily the very nice British ticket man said I could take the earliest train the next morning without charging me extra. This was after breaking down in gut wrenching sobs though. I had no money, so I decided to put my 24 Tube pass to use and just rode around on the buses for hours, it was like my own mini tour of London. Eventually I ended up at Liverpool station where I met some Australians and went bar hopping with them. I ended up sleeping over at one of there houses, waking up early and catcing the 6:30 train to Brussels.
3. All the time. Missing the Eurostar-
I think I have missed about 3 or 4 Eurostar trains by now. Nooooo Joke. I just missed one a month ago when I went from Paris to London. Again, I didn't miss it , but I was not a "half an hour early" so they wouldn't let me on. Bastards!!! Seriously the Paris train station is so giantic and confusing and it took me 45 minuties to even find the Eurostar check in!
4. Last month. Taking the wrong train from Paris, to Nantes instead of Sable
I already blogged about this. Worse. Evening. Ever.
5. Missing Greyhound buses from Toronto to Ottawa.
I always miss these. My dad always yells at me. Luckily, they don't charge you.
6. December 2007. Missing my flight from Marrakesh to Lisbon
This one was on purpose. I was too lazy to go all the way back up to Marrakesh since I was surfing in Agadir (I use the term "surfing" loosely. More like frantically paddling in the water). I had pre-booked a flight to Lisbon since I really wanted to see Portugal, which is Danielle's Murphys Law : If ye pre-book a flight, ye will miss it. So I just decided to skip the flight, in a fit of travelingrelaxation
(whereby the traveller becomes so overly chilled he or she ends up doing shit all and starts using phrases like "whatever man, no biggy, just chill", or in other words, acting like an Australian acts, all the time. If you want a visual aid for this term, please watch the The Beach, to see all the dangers of acting like this)
So I ended up just staying in Morroco because of my laziness, which turned out well since I love Morroco, but then I realized, too late, that I also had a flight from Lison to Brussels (where I was studying) which meant I had no way to actually leave Morrocco, and I had to start school in a few days. Another session spent at an internet cafe at an airport lead me to a ticket to Brussels. And this was before EasyJet and RyanAir had flights to Morrocco, so it wasn't easy, lemme tell you.
I am sure I am missing a million missed trains and flights, but these are the mains ones. It has probably cost me like over 500$ for my carelessness, but it has led to some pretty interesting situations. I'm also ALWAYS late for school and jobs. always always always. But I'm 22 now, I have to act like a grown-up, so I think I am going to buy a watch. Or make someone buy it for me for my birthday.
Ps: The reason I don't have a watch is because...wait for this..I'm allergic to them. Seriously. I actually break out into hives when I wear a watch. No joke. Now do you believe that Chronic-ism is a genetic things?
Tuesday 8 December 2009
French Breast Racisim
I have big breasts. Fact.
It is impossible to find good bras in Canada that cost less than 80$. Sometimes in the states I can find a bra at Victoria Secret that is my size, but the quality is pretty crap there. Undergarments are no doubt the most important part of any outfit as soon as you are a C, which, I think I surpassed sometime in 6th grade. So I will spend whatever it costs, because if I don't I will end up looking like an obese midget. ( and for those girls who are reading this with big breasts and who have never spent more then 30$ on a bra, 80% chance that you are wearing the wrong size, go get fitted now. RUN. Life-changing event, I swear. )
Usually, I buy my bras from small boutiques in Toronto and always French labels because the French are one of the only countries in the world that manufacture quality, cute bras for the well-endowed.
Such as this Chantelle bra. It comes in my size. Do you know how rare that is? Read the ode to it here
So imagine how excited I was to be in France and be able to buy non-imported bras, which I figured had to be cheaper. They were. But the price depended on size.
The bigger size you are, the higher the price.
WTFFFFFFFF.
I asked my teachers about this and they acted like this size discrimination was completely normal. "eeeef you want French-made garments zen you muzt pay for ze extra material".
How much extra material could possibly be in a bra? 3 more inches? Is 3 more inches worth a 5 euro price differential?
So I could either buy cheap Chinese-made bras which will be me look the aforesaid obese midget, or I can suck it up and pay an extra five euros for my breasts to be properly supported and adorned in beautiful French lace.
My breasts have made me suffer quite enough thank you very much and I don't appreciate being asked to fork over 5 euros more than my lucky friends who have been blessed with appropriate sized chests.
Isn't enough that I can't wear button up shirts, double-breasted coats, am hit on regularly by middle-aged men, am never taken seriously in the philosophy department and NOW they want me to pay an extra 5 euros?
It is impossible to find good bras in Canada that cost less than 80$. Sometimes in the states I can find a bra at Victoria Secret that is my size, but the quality is pretty crap there. Undergarments are no doubt the most important part of any outfit as soon as you are a C, which, I think I surpassed sometime in 6th grade. So I will spend whatever it costs, because if I don't I will end up looking like an obese midget. ( and for those girls who are reading this with big breasts and who have never spent more then 30$ on a bra, 80% chance that you are wearing the wrong size, go get fitted now. RUN. Life-changing event, I swear. )
Usually, I buy my bras from small boutiques in Toronto and always French labels because the French are one of the only countries in the world that manufacture quality, cute bras for the well-endowed.
Such as this Chantelle bra. It comes in my size. Do you know how rare that is? Read the ode to it here
The bigger size you are, the higher the price.
WTFFFFFFFF.
I asked my teachers about this and they acted like this size discrimination was completely normal. "eeeef you want French-made garments zen you muzt pay for ze extra material".
How much extra material could possibly be in a bra? 3 more inches? Is 3 more inches worth a 5 euro price differential?
So I could either buy cheap Chinese-made bras which will be me look the aforesaid obese midget, or I can suck it up and pay an extra five euros for my breasts to be properly supported and adorned in beautiful French lace.
My breasts have made me suffer quite enough thank you very much and I don't appreciate being asked to fork over 5 euros more than my lucky friends who have been blessed with appropriate sized chests.
Isn't enough that I can't wear button up shirts, double-breasted coats, am hit on regularly by middle-aged men, am never taken seriously in the philosophy department and NOW they want me to pay an extra 5 euros?
Friday 4 December 2009
Birthday!
Blogging is getting VERY ADDICTING. I have to remind myself not to do it everyday so you guys don't get sick of me or thing I have no life. Just so you know, I do have a life (although its true I do have a lot of spare time here) but also I want to be a journalist (I think... we'll see) so I consider blogging to be a productive hobby!
Anyways so I turned 22 yesterday! Wahoo! I had some major pre-b-day blues :(. I think your birthday, like Thanksgiving or Christmas is one of those events that you are used to spending with people that you care about and that care about you.
It's a time where you just get homesick and want your friends and family and a Baskin Robbin mint chocolate chip ice cream cake.
But, it turned out way better then I had imagined thanks to the amazing teachers at my school!
I recieved an e-mail last week saying that I needed to come to the teachers lounge to fill out some paper work on Dec.3. I'm pretty gulliable and it took me several days to figure that there was a possibility that they would plan something. When I walked in there was 2 cakes with candles, coffees and presents!
The English Teacher, who gave me linens and took me for lunch at her house in the countryside, had a major migrane and so made her husband drive her to school and it is is so sweet that she went to all that trouble. She made this chocolate cake that is so rich and amazing; literally the best chocolate cake I have ever eaten in my life. I ate 2 slices and then a few slices more later.
All the teachers also signed a card and got me a lotion, shampoo and bubble bath from L'Occitane En Provence, which I have ALWAYS wanted to buy something from.
And then one of my students made me a cute card and they all sang happy birthday. In English!
And later that night our friends (who arere students in the technical school) came over and brought an apple cake thing, that is not a flan, nor a cake, but basically apple, bread, butter and sugar. It was good!
So it turned out fun and not lonely or depressing!
For the real celebration, this weekend I head off to Paris (pronounces Pare-eeeeeee) for some serious Starbucks'n' Lourve-ing.
Anyways so I turned 22 yesterday! Wahoo! I had some major pre-b-day blues :(. I think your birthday, like Thanksgiving or Christmas is one of those events that you are used to spending with people that you care about and that care about you.
It's a time where you just get homesick and want your friends and family and a Baskin Robbin mint chocolate chip ice cream cake.
But, it turned out way better then I had imagined thanks to the amazing teachers at my school!
I recieved an e-mail last week saying that I needed to come to the teachers lounge to fill out some paper work on Dec.3. I'm pretty gulliable and it took me several days to figure that there was a possibility that they would plan something. When I walked in there was 2 cakes with candles, coffees and presents!
The English Teacher, who gave me linens and took me for lunch at her house in the countryside, had a major migrane and so made her husband drive her to school and it is is so sweet that she went to all that trouble. She made this chocolate cake that is so rich and amazing; literally the best chocolate cake I have ever eaten in my life. I ate 2 slices and then a few slices more later.
All the teachers also signed a card and got me a lotion, shampoo and bubble bath from L'Occitane En Provence, which I have ALWAYS wanted to buy something from.
And then one of my students made me a cute card and they all sang happy birthday. In English!
And later that night our friends (who arere students in the technical school) came over and brought an apple cake thing, that is not a flan, nor a cake, but basically apple, bread, butter and sugar. It was good!
So it turned out fun and not lonely or depressing!
Sure, unlike last years birthday party I didn't drink 22 jello shots
and unlike the year before that I didn't grind with Sinter Klaus, but hey, I'm more mature now!
For the real celebration, this weekend I head off to Paris (pronounces Pare-eeeeeee) for some serious Starbucks'n' Lourve-ing.
Tuesday 1 December 2009
Le Mans Foyer part2
I forgot to include several interesting pieces of information about the Le Mans foyer that I may be moving into. As we learned from my last post, that also means that I may not move in.
This is because they aren't sure that they have rooms. Apparently it will take them until next Monday to figure out if they have a room available.
Perhaps if they started work before 5 pm they would already know this?
In addition, the vending machine does not have diet coke. They have coke, classic coke, zero coke, nestea and cherry coke but NO diet coke.
Do I really want to be living somewhere that can't provide me with my daily aspartame fix?
Although, I have been weaned off this addiction since coming to France so perhaps it is for the best. I can just see myself spending 10 euros a week .
As well, the heating, like everywhere else in France, sucks ass. If I didn't have this space heater in my room I would be on a plane headed back to a developed country, i.e, Canada, who has managed to keep its citizens from freezing despite having temperature of -40 degrees celcius.
To add to my list of complaints, there is one washing machine for the entire foyer.
There are way over 100 rooms in the foyer. And there is one washing machine. It costs 4 euro to use. There is one. FOR THE WHOLE FOYER.
Could this be where the stereotype of the dirty Frenchman originated?
Furthermore, the restaurant is closed on Sundays, but they open a shared kitchen. This makes perfect sense though. Since you can't shit on Sunday, it makes sense to also not be allowed to eat on Sunday.
Despite all this, I really don't care where I live as long as the city is good. I once spent half of a happy summer sleeping on a mattress on a roof, so I think I can handle French foyer conditions.
This is because they aren't sure that they have rooms. Apparently it will take them until next Monday to figure out if they have a room available.
Perhaps if they started work before 5 pm they would already know this?
In addition, the vending machine does not have diet coke. They have coke, classic coke, zero coke, nestea and cherry coke but NO diet coke.
Do I really want to be living somewhere that can't provide me with my daily aspartame fix?
Although, I have been weaned off this addiction since coming to France so perhaps it is for the best. I can just see myself spending 10 euros a week .
As well, the heating, like everywhere else in France, sucks ass. If I didn't have this space heater in my room I would be on a plane headed back to a developed country, i.e, Canada, who has managed to keep its citizens from freezing despite having temperature of -40 degrees celcius.
To add to my list of complaints, there is one washing machine for the entire foyer.
There are way over 100 rooms in the foyer. And there is one washing machine. It costs 4 euro to use. There is one. FOR THE WHOLE FOYER.
Could this be where the stereotype of the dirty Frenchman originated?
Furthermore, the restaurant is closed on Sundays, but they open a shared kitchen. This makes perfect sense though. Since you can't shit on Sunday, it makes sense to also not be allowed to eat on Sunday.
Despite all this, I really don't care where I live as long as the city is good. I once spent half of a happy summer sleeping on a mattress on a roof, so I think I can handle French foyer conditions.
Swiss vote to ban minarets
Swiss vote to ban minarets a warning to Europes Muslims
Europeans are crayyyyyyyyyzeeeeeeeeeeeee.
I know it is a stereotype that American's are racists, but if you look at government policy I think that Europe is way more racist. Europe, par example, has never come close to voting in a black president.
Okay I am going to make this easy. Everything I say about the Swiss can be said about the French.
1. Swiss are Swiss. Therefore everyone who is not several generations Swiss is not Swiss and is considered other.
2. The Swiss are for some reason terrified of Muslims.
--> okay not for some reason. Muslims DO cause a lot of problems in France, causing riots, for example. Is it because they are Muslim? Or perhaps because they are unemployed, mistreated, discriminated against, and ALSO appen to maintain values that prioritize agression and honour?
3. They react to this by banning things. Minarets, Burkas, symbols of Islam.
4. This is stupid. Canada has a lot of Muslims. Muslims in Canada do not riot. They still very much practice their religion, but are peaceful and employed. Why?
4a. We embrace Muslims, genuinely encourgate them to maintain their religious traditions as long as it is combatible with fundemental Canadian values.
4b. We don't consider them "the other" since there are so many cultures, we have no reason to single out Muslims. We have next to zero nationalism, unlike European countries which highly value their "Frenchness" and "Swissness" and automatically makes succesful multiculturism harder.
4c. We put in a lot of time, money and effort to integrate all immigrants by teaching them the language, helping them with jobs and 'affirmative action' for visible minorities. This is not done in France or Swizterland. So visible minorities are not employed, get bored, get lonely and get dangerous.
4d. We welcome immigrants to our neighbourhoods, because, hey, we're all immigrants anyways! Unlike France whos shove their immigrants in the suburbs. For integration to work, people must physically integrate!
5. Difference in attitude. We act as though we genuinely value immigrants. Swiss and France act as if immigrants are just there to do the jobs no one else wants to do.
6. 54% Swizterland are idiots.
7. A French PM condemned this vote and I laughed, because if this was a vote in France it would probably turn out the same.
8. ughhhhh the world sucks.
Europeans are crayyyyyyyyyzeeeeeeeeeeeee.
I know it is a stereotype that American's are racists, but if you look at government policy I think that Europe is way more racist. Europe, par example, has never come close to voting in a black president.
Okay I am going to make this easy. Everything I say about the Swiss can be said about the French.
1. Swiss are Swiss. Therefore everyone who is not several generations Swiss is not Swiss and is considered other.
2. The Swiss are for some reason terrified of Muslims.
--> okay not for some reason. Muslims DO cause a lot of problems in France, causing riots, for example. Is it because they are Muslim? Or perhaps because they are unemployed, mistreated, discriminated against, and ALSO appen to maintain values that prioritize agression and honour?
3. They react to this by banning things. Minarets, Burkas, symbols of Islam.
4. This is stupid. Canada has a lot of Muslims. Muslims in Canada do not riot. They still very much practice their religion, but are peaceful and employed. Why?
4a. We embrace Muslims, genuinely encourgate them to maintain their religious traditions as long as it is combatible with fundemental Canadian values.
4b. We don't consider them "the other" since there are so many cultures, we have no reason to single out Muslims. We have next to zero nationalism, unlike European countries which highly value their "Frenchness" and "Swissness" and automatically makes succesful multiculturism harder.
4c. We put in a lot of time, money and effort to integrate all immigrants by teaching them the language, helping them with jobs and 'affirmative action' for visible minorities. This is not done in France or Swizterland. So visible minorities are not employed, get bored, get lonely and get dangerous.
4d. We welcome immigrants to our neighbourhoods, because, hey, we're all immigrants anyways! Unlike France whos shove their immigrants in the suburbs. For integration to work, people must physically integrate!
5. Difference in attitude. We act as though we genuinely value immigrants. Swiss and France act as if immigrants are just there to do the jobs no one else wants to do.
6. 54% Swizterland are idiots.
7. A French PM condemned this vote and I laughed, because if this was a vote in France it would probably turn out the same.
8. ughhhhh the world sucks.
Words Matter
So this post, which I just found about 20 min ago is a blog written by a guy who pretty much believes the opposite of everything I do. Well, not the opposite, for sake of accuracy, but he certainly has different beliefs.
I had to agree with him mostly on this post though, except I do think he goes heavy on feminists and academia (especially in some of his other posts, holy shit)
This is not related, per say, to my year in France, but I still think that it is interesting, especially for blogging. Anytime I edit someone's essays I always tell them to strive for accuracy in words, but I don't always follow this advice.
This is a blog, so I don't take as much care in making sure words mean something, but I should, since words are important. They matter. Using words correctly matters. Understanding when a word is used incorrectly matters because you can't critically think about something if you don't understand what it means.
I had to agree with him mostly on this post though, except I do think he goes heavy on feminists and academia (especially in some of his other posts, holy shit)
This is not related, per say, to my year in France, but I still think that it is interesting, especially for blogging. Anytime I edit someone's essays I always tell them to strive for accuracy in words, but I don't always follow this advice.
This is a blog, so I don't take as much care in making sure words mean something, but I should, since words are important. They matter. Using words correctly matters. Understanding when a word is used incorrectly matters because you can't critically think about something if you don't understand what it means.
As in “the Swine Flu may be pandemic” or “this stock should rise 40 percent next year.” Based on what premise? Any argumentative conclusion containing a qualifier is suspect information. Remember, coffee may be bad for you, or it may be good for you. The media is in the business of selling hysteria so they can gain advertising revenue. They need media junkies who are addicted to their daily fix.
Turn off the TV, take the train, fly on a plane, read Hemingway and take everything the media reports with that proverbial grain of salt. And take off the face mask; you look ridiculous. The next time you face a real problem in life, try a little grace under pressure and skip the Chicken Little routine.
Foyer Hunting: Anger
The foyer that I viewed in Anger was way nicer than the one in Le Mans. Wayyyy nicer and cleaner with bigger rooms and *gasp* wifi in the rooms. But, as discussed in a previous post, I had a horrible day in Anger and that is a bad omen.
In addition, however, that foyer was for females only. The only fun single-sex dorms exist in porn movies.
Okay..TRUTH...the REAL reason is that it was freakin creepy.
It was in an old building, as buildings in Europe frequently are. Perfect for lingering spirits and creaky stairs and locks easy to break.
I got let in by an old lady who said "We've been expecting you". The subtext being" We aren't expecting you to ever leave"
As she lead me into her office my eyes were drawn to Jesus. And his mother. In small frames, on crucifix's, on paintings, and on postcards. As she lead me up the stairs Jesus was there again, on a crucifix. When we checked out the restaurant I noticed that Mother Mary would be watching over me as I ate.
I've seen that movie, and it ends with the young promiscuous foreigner, naked in the bathtub, covered in blood.
In addition, however, that foyer was for females only. The only fun single-sex dorms exist in porn movies.
Okay..TRUTH...the REAL reason is that it was freakin creepy.
It was in an old building, as buildings in Europe frequently are. Perfect for lingering spirits and creaky stairs and locks easy to break.
I got let in by an old lady who said "We've been expecting you". The subtext being" We aren't expecting you to ever leave"
As she lead me into her office my eyes were drawn to Jesus. And his mother. In small frames, on crucifix's, on paintings, and on postcards. As she lead me up the stairs Jesus was there again, on a crucifix. When we checked out the restaurant I noticed that Mother Mary would be watching over me as I ate.
I've seen that movie, and it ends with the young promiscuous foreigner, naked in the bathtub, covered in blood.
Monday 30 November 2009
Foyer Hunting: Le Mans
I went to Le Mans today to go foyer hunting.
In case I haven't explained what a foyer is, it is basically a dorm for young workers.
In fact, that is exactly what it is.
It even comes with a meal plan and shared showers.
This day went way better than the disasterous one in Anger. I bought a new umbrella to replace the one I smashed against the steel pole, but it didn't even rain that much.
There was a strike at the train station (Again or Still?) so I waited an extra hour before boarding. I found the place with minimal trouble after a little trip to the tourist office for a map.
Truth: I had been walking in circles for half an hour before I stumbled across the tourist office.
It was about 2:00 and the foyer lady told me to come back at 5 when the other office workers would be there, because apparently French people have decided to just, not work, at ALL during the day.
But no harm, so I went to go meet Kiwi-Girl who I had made plans with.
*Note the subtle introduction of a real, live, female, age appropriate female-friend
We did some browsing and walked around and then headed back to the foyer where she happens to live.
I think there are only 2 foyers in Le Mans so its not that big of a coincidence. I am certainly not stalking her, though I have been known for my stalkerish tendencies, like that time two weeks where I stalked the admin assistant to beg him to let me pay my rent.
The room is a pretty standard dorm room. Nothing too off-putting or special. The rent is very high, but the government heavily subsidizes it, so after all the paperwork, if I haven't yet died from licking envelopes or paper cuts, it should only be about 200 euro including all breakfasts and 16 meals a month.
They don't have wifi- that being something that exists only in developed countries and the bastion of developed countries, Mcdonalds- but they do have ethernet in the common room, which will have to do.
Frankly, it could have been a shithole and I still would have wanted to live there if only to be in a place that takes more then 7 min. to walk through....
Next: Why I don't want to live in Anger!
*I don't want to overburden you with an overly long post in case you decide you are done procrastinating.
In case I haven't explained what a foyer is, it is basically a dorm for young workers.
In fact, that is exactly what it is.
It even comes with a meal plan and shared showers.
This day went way better than the disasterous one in Anger. I bought a new umbrella to replace the one I smashed against the steel pole, but it didn't even rain that much.
There was a strike at the train station (Again or Still?) so I waited an extra hour before boarding. I found the place with minimal trouble after a little trip to the tourist office for a map.
Truth: I had been walking in circles for half an hour before I stumbled across the tourist office.
It was about 2:00 and the foyer lady told me to come back at 5 when the other office workers would be there, because apparently French people have decided to just, not work, at ALL during the day.
But no harm, so I went to go meet Kiwi-Girl who I had made plans with.
*Note the subtle introduction of a real, live, female, age appropriate female-friend
We did some browsing and walked around and then headed back to the foyer where she happens to live.
I think there are only 2 foyers in Le Mans so its not that big of a coincidence. I am certainly not stalking her, though I have been known for my stalkerish tendencies, like that time two weeks where I stalked the admin assistant to beg him to let me pay my rent.
The room is a pretty standard dorm room. Nothing too off-putting or special. The rent is very high, but the government heavily subsidizes it, so after all the paperwork, if I haven't yet died from licking envelopes or paper cuts, it should only be about 200 euro including all breakfasts and 16 meals a month.
They don't have wifi- that being something that exists only in developed countries and the bastion of developed countries, Mcdonalds- but they do have ethernet in the common room, which will have to do.
Frankly, it could have been a shithole and I still would have wanted to live there if only to be in a place that takes more then 7 min. to walk through....
Next: Why I don't want to live in Anger!
*I don't want to overburden you with an overly long post in case you decide you are done procrastinating.
Saturday 28 November 2009
The Local Bar
British roommate has escaped to Nantes to visit his grandmother so Me and the Spanish roommate went to the local bar tonight.
It's actually a nice place. There are darts and pool tables and young French people.
Pretty exciting for Sable.
After I did the usual round of cheek kisses which took about 2 min (2 min of cheek kisses is a lot. I feel really awkward doing it. When there are 5 people, for example, you have to kiss all of them. That's 10 kisses. And everyone kind of crowds around you until you are done. I'm the only one who feels awkward about it though, so I try not to blush) a nice garcon bought me a drink (he also bought like 4 other people a drink- he was just nice).
It was ouzo with some sort of juice. Every time I drink ouzo I think of that time in Greece when I was 18 and it got poured down my throat and then ceramic plates were smashed over my head. Needless to say, ouzo gets me in party mode!
I tried to ask if there was any weed without sounding sketchy, but didn't manage to snuff out any leads. I guess smuggling from 'dam is the only way to go.
The best thing about going to these local bars is that it rapidly improves my French and forces me to converse in it.
Also, PROGRESS... my French language goal for the year is to be able to watch a movie or tv show in French and understand it, and when I watched Lost in Translation tonight in French, I could totally understand a significant amount of words. It is starting to sound less blah blah blah blah and more sensical.
K so I just looked up "sensical" in the dictionary and it is not an entry. Maybe learning French is regressing my English?
It's actually a nice place. There are darts and pool tables and young French people.
Pretty exciting for Sable.
After I did the usual round of cheek kisses which took about 2 min (2 min of cheek kisses is a lot. I feel really awkward doing it. When there are 5 people, for example, you have to kiss all of them. That's 10 kisses. And everyone kind of crowds around you until you are done. I'm the only one who feels awkward about it though, so I try not to blush) a nice garcon bought me a drink (he also bought like 4 other people a drink- he was just nice).
It was ouzo with some sort of juice. Every time I drink ouzo I think of that time in Greece when I was 18 and it got poured down my throat and then ceramic plates were smashed over my head. Needless to say, ouzo gets me in party mode!
I tried to ask if there was any weed without sounding sketchy, but didn't manage to snuff out any leads. I guess smuggling from 'dam is the only way to go.
The best thing about going to these local bars is that it rapidly improves my French and forces me to converse in it.
Also, PROGRESS... my French language goal for the year is to be able to watch a movie or tv show in French and understand it, and when I watched Lost in Translation tonight in French, I could totally understand a significant amount of words. It is starting to sound less blah blah blah blah and more sensical.
K so I just looked up "sensical" in the dictionary and it is not an entry. Maybe learning French is regressing my English?
Quote from Lost in Translation
Me and my Spanish roommate were watching Lost in Translation tonight after we got home from the local bar (!) and I found this great interview by Bill Murray. I'm not being maudlin, swear, I just like the quote.
"It’s not just being awake in the middle of the night and being anonymous. It’s being awake in the middle of the night with yourself. Without your support, without your buffers, as we call them. Your comfort things, you’re laying down.
He didn’t even have his TV stations. He was trapped. He didn’t have his stuff, he didn’t have his bedroom, he didn’t have his booze, he didn’t have his stuff, [and] he didn’t have his world. It’s just a shock of consciousness where all of a sudden you’re stuck with yourself....
And there’s nobody here that knows me. There’s nobody here that cares about me.
So who am I when I don’t have all my posse, my stuff with me?” That’s what it is. When you go to a foreign country, truly foreign, there is a major shock of consciousness that comes on you when you see that, “Oh God, it’s just me here.”
There’s nobody, no neighbors, no friends, no phone calls - just room service"
~Bill Murray in an interview for the movie Lost in Translation
Ps: I don't even have room service.
"It’s not just being awake in the middle of the night and being anonymous. It’s being awake in the middle of the night with yourself. Without your support, without your buffers, as we call them. Your comfort things, you’re laying down.
He didn’t even have his TV stations. He was trapped. He didn’t have his stuff, he didn’t have his bedroom, he didn’t have his booze, he didn’t have his stuff, [and] he didn’t have his world. It’s just a shock of consciousness where all of a sudden you’re stuck with yourself....
And there’s nobody here that knows me. There’s nobody here that cares about me.
So who am I when I don’t have all my posse, my stuff with me?” That’s what it is. When you go to a foreign country, truly foreign, there is a major shock of consciousness that comes on you when you see that, “Oh God, it’s just me here.”
There’s nobody, no neighbors, no friends, no phone calls - just room service"
~Bill Murray in an interview for the movie Lost in Translation
Ps: I don't even have room service.
Friday 27 November 2009
Cheddar Cheese!
There was a surprise today in the grocery store.
I saw cheddar cheese for the first time since coming to France! Granted, it wasn't real cheddar cheese, but it was processed and pre-sliced.
How North American!
No rind, no smell, just good 'ol sterile cheese full of chemicals.
Sometimes, ya just need a cheese that melts. Brie is all well and good, but nothing beats cheddar for a good grilled cheese sandwich.
I saw cheddar cheese for the first time since coming to France! Granted, it wasn't real cheddar cheese, but it was processed and pre-sliced.
How North American!
No rind, no smell, just good 'ol sterile cheese full of chemicals.
Sometimes, ya just need a cheese that melts. Brie is all well and good, but nothing beats cheddar for a good grilled cheese sandwich.
Christmas Lesson
I "taught" about Christmas today.
I've noticed that I mostly complain on this blog instead of actually describing what I am in in France to do.
But it's my blog so I can write what I want.
(but please keep reading! and commenting! lurve comments! they make me feel less lonely and depressed)
So I got a bunch of pictures about winter and Christmas in Canada. And Channukah and Kwanza obviously. I'm nervous that I forgot some sort of ethnic holiday since I have only been around white people for the past 2 months.
I made them a slide show of
children in snowsuits
red Starbucks cups,
Tim Hortons roll-up-the-rim-to-win cups,
Christmas trees, the Ottawa canal, how busy Yorkdale is.
It didn't even make me homesick! Except for the snowsuits...
damn I wish I could wear snow pants and not look like an idiot.
There was this guy in university (shot out-you know who you are) who used to bike to school in bright yellow rain pants from Mountain Co-op, and I was always a little jealous.
Neways, so yes that is basically how I "teach". I showed pictures. And then I wrote the words on the board. Hard shit.
2 classes tomorrow are cancelled. Yay. More free time to accomplish nothing.
The less I do the less I am motivated to do.
I miss ice coffee.
I think I will go to Paris next weekend to buy some. Is anyone else going to be there?
I've noticed that I mostly complain on this blog instead of actually describing what I am in in France to do.
But it's my blog so I can write what I want.
(but please keep reading! and commenting! lurve comments! they make me feel less lonely and depressed)
So I got a bunch of pictures about winter and Christmas in Canada. And Channukah and Kwanza obviously. I'm nervous that I forgot some sort of ethnic holiday since I have only been around white people for the past 2 months.
I made them a slide show of
children in snowsuits
red Starbucks cups,
Tim Hortons roll-up-the-rim-to-win cups,
Christmas trees, the Ottawa canal, how busy Yorkdale is.
It didn't even make me homesick! Except for the snowsuits...
damn I wish I could wear snow pants and not look like an idiot.
There was this guy in university (shot out-you know who you are) who used to bike to school in bright yellow rain pants from Mountain Co-op, and I was always a little jealous.
Neways, so yes that is basically how I "teach". I showed pictures. And then I wrote the words on the board. Hard shit.
2 classes tomorrow are cancelled. Yay. More free time to accomplish nothing.
The less I do the less I am motivated to do.
I miss ice coffee.
I think I will go to Paris next weekend to buy some. Is anyone else going to be there?
Monday 23 November 2009
A comically bad day
I went to Anger to Foyer hunt today.
I planned to take the 11:30 train, but I ended up sleeping until 11:30 and taking the 1:00. Then the station informed me that there was a train strike today.
Luckily, I had looked up the word for strike last week because there is a teachers strike this week, as well.
I only had to wait 15 min though, so I guess it is some sort of partial strike, or something.
I got to Anger and easily found the first Foyer I was supposed to look at, but I will talk about that another time; this post is about the shitty parts of my day.
So I left to go find the other Foyers and stopped at the tourist office for a map.
I'm extremely bad at map reading, usually I don't bother with maps because I know it will just get me lost. I usually prefer to wander in circles with no destination in mind or else I get incredibly frustrated by my lack of directionability skills.
But I actually had a specific destination in mind, so attempted to find it by map, which obviously failed, so I walked in circles for a half an hour.
Which was okay since I'm pretty used to being lost.
So I figured that I had to cross the street and turn left. So I crossed the street at a zebra crossing, making sure that the bus had stopped.
annnnd
BAM, I was on the road.
I had tripped over the random stone circles that are evenly spaced on roads.
I was splayed on the ground, in shock. My knee had slammed into the pavement and my palms had broken the fall and ached. I didn't move for 10 seconds than looked up to the bus.
The driver was just sitting there. Emotionless. I caught his eye with mine. It was clear he was unperturbed that a young girl had just tripped in front of him, and I didn't want to hold the bus up.
Yes. I didn't want to to hold the bus up.
Canadians, eh?
I couldn't stand because my knee hurt too much so I dragged myself across the road like a lame drunk and hobbled over to a bench.
I sat there and cried, but I hid my face in my oversize purse so as not to draw attention.
Eventually I got up, my knee was feeling better and I set about trying to find this Foyer again.
After another 10 min, I thought Fuck it, I don't want to live here anyways, why waste my time.
I decided not to live in Anger because they are building a tram line so it's very noisy and congested and the entire city square is being dug up.
So I decided to go browsing instead.
I was innocently in Sephora, when I got kicked out.
Kicked out of Sephora. How could I live in a city where I couldn't even innocently browse in Sephora?
I guess I had used one tester too many or something because the security guard came up to me and told me that I had to ask one of the shop ladies for assistance.
This was just ridiculous. Sephora has a millon testers for a reason. I can't speak French. I don't want to talk to shop ladies, I just want to see if this lipstick is my colour dammit. I can do that myself. Just leave me the fuck alone, I'm browsing, this is my happy time.
Of course his long speech to me about how I couldn't just TEST the TESTERS myself spoiled everything so I left.
---> insert tirade on French customer service here.
I exited the store to pouring rain, but congratulating myself on my cleverness, I whipped out the umbrella I had remembered to bring from home.
I had purchased it for 5 euros along the Seine the last time rain had sprung up on me.
The winds were fierce and in about 10 min. the damn thing broke. I tried to salvage the day, and walked around for a bit more but eventually decided to cut my losses and headed towards the station.
My umbrella just kept breaking and breaking and eventually I got so angry, and was soaked and my knee hurt and my hair was frizzing that I slammed my umbrella against a steel pole and screamed FUCK YOU.
That placated me for a bit. I wanted to do it again , but the sponteniety of the anger had left me and I just felt silly.
I waited 2 damp and shivery hours in the train station because of the strike reading Down and Out in Paris and London, which was extremely appropriate for the situation and made me happy that at least I am not living in 1930s Paris in a flee-infested motel working 12 hours a day as a busboy.
I planned to take the 11:30 train, but I ended up sleeping until 11:30 and taking the 1:00. Then the station informed me that there was a train strike today.
Luckily, I had looked up the word for strike last week because there is a teachers strike this week, as well.
I only had to wait 15 min though, so I guess it is some sort of partial strike, or something.
I got to Anger and easily found the first Foyer I was supposed to look at, but I will talk about that another time; this post is about the shitty parts of my day.
So I left to go find the other Foyers and stopped at the tourist office for a map.
I'm extremely bad at map reading, usually I don't bother with maps because I know it will just get me lost. I usually prefer to wander in circles with no destination in mind or else I get incredibly frustrated by my lack of directionability skills.
But I actually had a specific destination in mind, so attempted to find it by map, which obviously failed, so I walked in circles for a half an hour.
Which was okay since I'm pretty used to being lost.
So I figured that I had to cross the street and turn left. So I crossed the street at a zebra crossing, making sure that the bus had stopped.
annnnd
BAM, I was on the road.
I had tripped over the random stone circles that are evenly spaced on roads.
I was splayed on the ground, in shock. My knee had slammed into the pavement and my palms had broken the fall and ached. I didn't move for 10 seconds than looked up to the bus.
The driver was just sitting there. Emotionless. I caught his eye with mine. It was clear he was unperturbed that a young girl had just tripped in front of him, and I didn't want to hold the bus up.
Yes. I didn't want to to hold the bus up.
Canadians, eh?
I couldn't stand because my knee hurt too much so I dragged myself across the road like a lame drunk and hobbled over to a bench.
I sat there and cried, but I hid my face in my oversize purse so as not to draw attention.
Eventually I got up, my knee was feeling better and I set about trying to find this Foyer again.
After another 10 min, I thought Fuck it, I don't want to live here anyways, why waste my time.
I decided not to live in Anger because they are building a tram line so it's very noisy and congested and the entire city square is being dug up.
So I decided to go browsing instead.
I was innocently in Sephora, when I got kicked out.
Kicked out of Sephora. How could I live in a city where I couldn't even innocently browse in Sephora?
I guess I had used one tester too many or something because the security guard came up to me and told me that I had to ask one of the shop ladies for assistance.
This was just ridiculous. Sephora has a millon testers for a reason. I can't speak French. I don't want to talk to shop ladies, I just want to see if this lipstick is my colour dammit. I can do that myself. Just leave me the fuck alone, I'm browsing, this is my happy time.
Of course his long speech to me about how I couldn't just TEST the TESTERS myself spoiled everything so I left.
---> insert tirade on French customer service here.
I exited the store to pouring rain, but congratulating myself on my cleverness, I whipped out the umbrella I had remembered to bring from home.
I had purchased it for 5 euros along the Seine the last time rain had sprung up on me.
The winds were fierce and in about 10 min. the damn thing broke. I tried to salvage the day, and walked around for a bit more but eventually decided to cut my losses and headed towards the station.
My umbrella just kept breaking and breaking and eventually I got so angry, and was soaked and my knee hurt and my hair was frizzing that I slammed my umbrella against a steel pole and screamed FUCK YOU.
That placated me for a bit. I wanted to do it again , but the sponteniety of the anger had left me and I just felt silly.
I waited 2 damp and shivery hours in the train station because of the strike reading Down and Out in Paris and London, which was extremely appropriate for the situation and made me happy that at least I am not living in 1930s Paris in a flee-infested motel working 12 hours a day as a busboy.
Sunday 22 November 2009
Oh, so that's why I'm broke
I sat down today with a glass of sparkling rose wine and a piece of chocolate cake to make the process of going through my finances easier.
And I discovered why I'm in around -70 euro in debt on my French bank account and why I'm around 450 in debt on my Canadian bank card.
Two nouns.
London. Paris.
I spent waaaaaaayyyyyyy more money then I had planned to.
The biggest purchases on that trip was all the train rides, with me taking the wrong train and everything. In total I payed 215.58 CDN and 78.20 EU for transportation. That's a lot, and next time can be avoided by booking early, not travelling during peak periods, not getting lost, (being less careless is something I have to work on in general!!) and booking trains only with my French account--> which I didn't have a choice of because at the time my debit card hadn't activated.
I spent around 100 Euro on food and beer, which can easily be avoided by NOT EATING OUT!!! Sometime it is very tempting, but I have to learn to control myself. I think next time I can get this number down by half, which will still allow me to eat out a few meals.
I have 50 euros, 150 USD and probably 20 pounds in cash unaccounted for so I have no idea where that money went! Probably ice cream knowing me...
I can't stress how important it is to write down what you spend, either when you are spending it or at the end of the month. For me, it opened my eyes on where I can easily save and where I am overspending. And it only took about 20 min, so its pretty painless. I was kind of in denial before, but now I see how careless I can be. I know what mistakes I won't make again like.....
1. using my Canadian cards
where the exchange rate makes everything 1.5 times more expensive. To my credit, this couldn't be helped because my French card randomly stopped working for a few days in London.
2. Bank fees.
I spent a total of 17.7 on bank fees. Every time you purchase something in a non-Euro zone my French bank charges me 1 euro. It would have been better had I taken out a wad of cash, for which they would have only charged me 3 euro. Of course, knowing me I would have lost all the cash so thinking about it, I would rather spend money on bank fees!
Things I did good
1. Tourist Sites
I only spent 16.07 on tourist site, and that was for ONE entrance fee to the Tower of London. All other touristy things I did for free including walking tours, museums, and markets. This just takes some research time on the internet.
2. Hostels
I spent 40.68 on accomodation. it would have been only 20.65 had I not taken the wrong train and had to pay for a hostel in Nantes.
Now I can budget for future trips with a better estimate of how much I really need and not a fairy-tale version.
And I discovered why I'm in around -70 euro in debt on my French bank account and why I'm around 450 in debt on my Canadian bank card.
Two nouns.
London. Paris.
I spent waaaaaaayyyyyyy more money then I had planned to.
The biggest purchases on that trip was all the train rides, with me taking the wrong train and everything. In total I payed 215.58 CDN and 78.20 EU for transportation. That's a lot, and next time can be avoided by booking early, not travelling during peak periods, not getting lost, (being less careless is something I have to work on in general!!) and booking trains only with my French account--> which I didn't have a choice of because at the time my debit card hadn't activated.
I spent around 100 Euro on food and beer, which can easily be avoided by NOT EATING OUT!!! Sometime it is very tempting, but I have to learn to control myself. I think next time I can get this number down by half, which will still allow me to eat out a few meals.
I have 50 euros, 150 USD and probably 20 pounds in cash unaccounted for so I have no idea where that money went! Probably ice cream knowing me...
I can't stress how important it is to write down what you spend, either when you are spending it or at the end of the month. For me, it opened my eyes on where I can easily save and where I am overspending. And it only took about 20 min, so its pretty painless. I was kind of in denial before, but now I see how careless I can be. I know what mistakes I won't make again like.....
1. using my Canadian cards
where the exchange rate makes everything 1.5 times more expensive. To my credit, this couldn't be helped because my French card randomly stopped working for a few days in London.
2. Bank fees.
I spent a total of 17.7 on bank fees. Every time you purchase something in a non-Euro zone my French bank charges me 1 euro. It would have been better had I taken out a wad of cash, for which they would have only charged me 3 euro. Of course, knowing me I would have lost all the cash so thinking about it, I would rather spend money on bank fees!
Things I did good
1. Tourist Sites
I only spent 16.07 on tourist site, and that was for ONE entrance fee to the Tower of London. All other touristy things I did for free including walking tours, museums, and markets. This just takes some research time on the internet.
2. Hostels
I spent 40.68 on accomodation. it would have been only 20.65 had I not taken the wrong train and had to pay for a hostel in Nantes.
Now I can budget for future trips with a better estimate of how much I really need and not a fairy-tale version.
Saturday 21 November 2009
Me and Betty Draper have Something in Common
Seriously we do.
I'm not tall, blonde, thin or a fictional character, but I feel an affinity towards Betty anyways.
We are both bored and lonely.
I write this as I nurse some sparkling rose wine. Alone. In my room. On my bed. In an old black cardigan and skinny Top Shop jeans. With unwashed hair and only Max Factor mascara and Nars Orgasm blush. At least Betty always puts some effort it. I admire that.
She's sad, bored, and lonely like me but she's never without a full face of makeup and perfectly coiffed hair even as she waits every day for Don Draper to come home and ignore her.
My life would be better had I a Don Draper in it, but I don't even have that.
Perhaps I will pour myself another few glasses and read a book. Or maybe I'll just shoot myself in the head.
Ps: I saw this sparkling Rose wine a the grocery store and couldn't resist. It's a bugetry indulgence, but I need to numb the pain. And it was only 2 Euro 15. Sometimes ya just gotta splurge. And yes, my debt keeps climbing. I think I'm now at negative 72 Euro.
I'm not tall, blonde, thin or a fictional character, but I feel an affinity towards Betty anyways.
We are both bored and lonely.
I write this as I nurse some sparkling rose wine. Alone. In my room. On my bed. In an old black cardigan and skinny Top Shop jeans. With unwashed hair and only Max Factor mascara and Nars Orgasm blush. At least Betty always puts some effort it. I admire that.
She's sad, bored, and lonely like me but she's never without a full face of makeup and perfectly coiffed hair even as she waits every day for Don Draper to come home and ignore her.
My life would be better had I a Don Draper in it, but I don't even have that.
Perhaps I will pour myself another few glasses and read a book. Or maybe I'll just shoot myself in the head.
Ps: I saw this sparkling Rose wine a the grocery store and couldn't resist. It's a bugetry indulgence, but I need to numb the pain. And it was only 2 Euro 15. Sometimes ya just gotta splurge. And yes, my debt keeps climbing. I think I'm now at negative 72 Euro.
Friday 20 November 2009
How well do you know world's great cities? - thestar.com
How well do you know world's great cities? - thestar.com
The survey found that 77.4 per cent of Canadians got all 10 right; third-best in the world. Italians scored the highest (they probably got Rome correct) at 79.9 per cent, followed by the U.S. at 79.8 per cent. Australians have a reputation for travelling a lot but they scored only 61.8 per cent – worst of any country surveyed. Aussie, Aussie, Aussie? Ay-yay-yay.
Cuz Aussies are too wasted to even know what city they are in.
In case this hasn't come out yet, I am not the biggest fan of Aussies.
They creep me out.
They always have the same answer to any question you give them.
For instance
"What's your favourite city Mr. Aussie?"
"London! There's a party going on every night!"
"Tell me about yourself?"
"Well I'm from Australia and I worked for 6 months in London and lived in a bar/in a small room with 5 other Aussie mates. Then I saved up enough money to backpack around Europe."
"Why are you on a gap year?:
Well, I just want to travel. I tried going to school for a year but then I decided that I could learn so much more traveling. When I get back I'll finish 2 more years."
It's like a whole country of traveling clones. I feel like Australia must be like North Korea and they have to educate the citizens on an image to present to the world. The image is just sooo uniform. Have you ever met an uptight, sober, fat Australian who hates the beach, loves Americans, and is only on 2 week holiday and staying in a place that costs more than 20 euros a night?
And I don't really believe that any Australians actually live in Australia. There are just too many of them abroad.
Also, they are really bad in bed.
The survey found that 77.4 per cent of Canadians got all 10 right; third-best in the world. Italians scored the highest (they probably got Rome correct) at 79.9 per cent, followed by the U.S. at 79.8 per cent. Australians have a reputation for travelling a lot but they scored only 61.8 per cent – worst of any country surveyed. Aussie, Aussie, Aussie? Ay-yay-yay.
Cuz Aussies are too wasted to even know what city they are in.
In case this hasn't come out yet, I am not the biggest fan of Aussies.
They creep me out.
They always have the same answer to any question you give them.
For instance
"What's your favourite city Mr. Aussie?"
"London! There's a party going on every night!"
"Tell me about yourself?"
"Well I'm from Australia and I worked for 6 months in London and lived in a bar/in a small room with 5 other Aussie mates. Then I saved up enough money to backpack around Europe."
"Why are you on a gap year?:
Well, I just want to travel. I tried going to school for a year but then I decided that I could learn so much more traveling. When I get back I'll finish 2 more years."
It's like a whole country of traveling clones. I feel like Australia must be like North Korea and they have to educate the citizens on an image to present to the world. The image is just sooo uniform. Have you ever met an uptight, sober, fat Australian who hates the beach, loves Americans, and is only on 2 week holiday and staying in a place that costs more than 20 euros a night?
And I don't really believe that any Australians actually live in Australia. There are just too many of them abroad.
Also, they are really bad in bed.
Damn cancelled classes
So my sleep-in the other day came back to bite me in the ass.
Today I woke up bright and early at 7:30, after only getting 3 or 4 hours of sleep. I got dressed, re-straightened my hair, had coffee, cornflakes; the whole 9 yards.
And when I got to room 414 B, it was locked, no one was there and my next 2 classes are apparently canceled.
I completely forget if the teacher told me that last week, but she definitely didn't e-mail me.
Classes are canceled here ALL THE TIME. Yesterday 2 classes were canceled because one had a field trip and the other was writing a test (so I wasn't needed). Classes are canceled if teachers are sick, which they are all the time. Not week goes by without at LEAST 2 cancellations.
The good thing about living at the school is that I can just pop back into bed, though I am not a napper by nature. If there was something else to do here, I would just stay up but since I have nothing I need to accomplish, I'm writing this from my bed as I try to go back to sleep before my next class at 11:30.
Today I woke up bright and early at 7:30, after only getting 3 or 4 hours of sleep. I got dressed, re-straightened my hair, had coffee, cornflakes; the whole 9 yards.
And when I got to room 414 B, it was locked, no one was there and my next 2 classes are apparently canceled.
I completely forget if the teacher told me that last week, but she definitely didn't e-mail me.
Classes are canceled here ALL THE TIME. Yesterday 2 classes were canceled because one had a field trip and the other was writing a test (so I wasn't needed). Classes are canceled if teachers are sick, which they are all the time. Not week goes by without at LEAST 2 cancellations.
The good thing about living at the school is that I can just pop back into bed, though I am not a napper by nature. If there was something else to do here, I would just stay up but since I have nothing I need to accomplish, I'm writing this from my bed as I try to go back to sleep before my next class at 11:30.
Thursday 19 November 2009
Errr. Slept in. Again
On Tuesday I slept in. Again.
I only work 4 days a week and I only have to make 8:30 class every other week since I have an alternation schedule. I'm naturally a night person and often go to bed at 2, 3 or 4 which makes waking up at 7:30 really difficult.
So when my alarm went off on Tuesday I kinda just stared at it debating if I should get out of bed.
Devil
The teacher probably doesn't even remember that you have this class with her. You haven't been there for 3 weeks because it was an alternative week, then a holiday, then an alternative week. She is going to forget and it isn't even going to be worth it. Just stay in bed. You're tired. She won't even notice.
Angel
You always do this! You complain that you don't have enough hours and then you don't even go to the hours that you do have! How will you ever find a job if you can't even get up in the morning. Stop being so g-ddamned lazy!
Needless to say, the Devil won out and I stayed in bed. When I rolled out of it at 11, I checked my phone only to see that I had received this message:
"No class today Danielle. My son is sick. Sorry" From The English Teacher.
Scoooooore.
I only work 4 days a week and I only have to make 8:30 class every other week since I have an alternation schedule. I'm naturally a night person and often go to bed at 2, 3 or 4 which makes waking up at 7:30 really difficult.
So when my alarm went off on Tuesday I kinda just stared at it debating if I should get out of bed.
Devil
The teacher probably doesn't even remember that you have this class with her. You haven't been there for 3 weeks because it was an alternative week, then a holiday, then an alternative week. She is going to forget and it isn't even going to be worth it. Just stay in bed. You're tired. She won't even notice.
Angel
You always do this! You complain that you don't have enough hours and then you don't even go to the hours that you do have! How will you ever find a job if you can't even get up in the morning. Stop being so g-ddamned lazy!
Needless to say, the Devil won out and I stayed in bed. When I rolled out of it at 11, I checked my phone only to see that I had received this message:
"No class today Danielle. My son is sick. Sorry" From The English Teacher.
Scoooooore.
Moving!
At the orientation yesterday I was struck by how vibrant Le Mans is.
I'm sure it only seems that way because I have been stuck in Sable for so long, but still.
I think I want to move there.
First of all, there are young people in Le Mans.
Young people that I now have met, thanks to orientation.
Second of all, there is shopping. HM, Zara, Sephora. When there are stores, it is easy to spend an otherwise boring afternoon browsing.
Thirdly, there are bars. Perfect way to spend an evening.
Fourthy, it is only 20-30 min away by train from Sable, with good connections so it wouldn't be too difficult to commute.
I just realized how unhappy and bored I am in Sable. I am a really social person. I don't ever want to live alone. I need people around me all the time. I get bored easily, if I don't feel stressed and I'm not frantically chugging coffee, I just dont' feel happy or fulfilled. Productivity is very important to me. I'm not French, I'll never be French and I'm happy being a work obsessed North American.
Soooo I want to move to Le Mans!
Its still a small town, in my opinion, there are 148 000 people, which is a nice number. Much more agreeable than 13, 500.
There are several drawbacks, however.
Firstly, it is more expensive. I would live in a Foyer, which I think is kind of like a residence for young, working people. I think it would be around 170 E/M, which really isn't too bad. I would also have to commute 4 times a week, but the government pays you back 50% of public transportation travel costs. (I know, right? Crazy? How does the French government afford that?)
Also, moving is a bitch and a hassle in general, especially since I am pretty settled in my flat right now, have decorated and gotten TV and all that.
But I just think my quality of life would improve immensely. Aka, I would not be ready to be admitted to a mental institution.
What do you guys think about this? Is it worth it? I would be moving either in december or in the New Year depending if the Foyer's have room.
Oh, I could also move to Anger, which has way better 'culture' according to the English Teachers. There is also an international university there, and it is the exact same distance away.
Orientation #2
Yesterday was a second orientation in Le Mans.
Me and BR (British Roommate) woke up at 7 to be there for 9. Lo and behold there were young people! Speaking English! It was wonderful. I was so shocked and overjoyed by hearing my own language spoken by people my age I babbled incessently.
Not the best way to make new friends, but I was overwhelmed, I couldn't control myself!
There were a lot of cool people there including 2 Canadians! (Its extra exciting to meet Canadians, at least for someone patriotic like me)
AND if that isn't exciting enough, here is the real news.
Last orientation took place entirely in French. I had no idea whatsoever what they were talking about. This orientation also tool place entirely in French, but I had some sort of idea what they were talking about!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The words made sense!!
Now, I didn't understand exactly what they were saying, and I certainly didn't catch all the nuances, but I could definitely understand the gist, if not precise directions.
That is definite improvement in a little over 6 weeks.
Day to Day it doesn't seem like I'm really improving, but its nice to know that at least if I'm bored out of my mind and want to kill myself, I'm learning something.
So they made us go around and tell them what lesson plans were working and our experience thus far.
Everyone spoke in French except for me.
I didn't major in French in university like everyone else and I wasn't going to fumble 20 min trying to speak when I could say what I had to say in 10 min. Which was basically that the kids are nice but they can't speak English for shit.
For break they brought in coffee and the head woman poured some for me, which was nice. But she stopped when the tiny plastic cup was half-way full.
"Ummm Madam, I'm going to need more of that. I'm Canadian, we drink full cups of coffee"
"ooo!" And she poured some more. "I was just making sure that there was enough for everyone"
oooops and there is me feeling like a selfish jackass.
Anyways we eventually broke for the 2 hour lunch and a bunch of people went to go get tickets for New Moon. I COULD have joined them if I LIVED in Le Mans, but I DON'T so I COULDN'T. Not feeling bitter about that at all.
I had brought a lunch, in my attempt to budget, and so did one other girl from New Zealand, making me feel like I wasn't the only nerdy one.
I don't have that much food, so my sandwich was 2 slices of brown bread (I finally bought bread), sliced Swiss Cheese and guacamole. Yes, Guacamole. Don't ask me why, I needed something to make the sandwich less dry and guacamole was the only thing I could find in my fridge. Plus, I needed to use it up before it went all moldy like my pesto did. Waste not, Want not!
This New Zealend girl is WAY better at budgeing than me. I need to learn some tips from her. For instance, she only spends 13 euros a week on groceries. That is crazy! I didn't even think that was possible. She is not emanciated or anything..
In Canada I would spend (an embarrassing) 75$ a week on groceries! And I'm not obese. (I don't think...I'm also not a size 00. Or even a size 4. OKAYYYYY, but I'm not sitting all my couch all day eating potato chips.)
After lunch we had to make lessons plans with videos or songs that we were given. That was surprisingly fun. My group got a song by Charlie Winston who "seduced France but is largely unknown in England" and he has really interesting songs and my new favourite artist.
After the orientation a group of people went to see New Moon, and I was left alone to shuffle back to my lonely and cold town.
Okay I actually stayed and did some browsing at HM. I was also really hungry, that Swiss cheese- guacamole sandwich did not hit the spot, so I grabbed a Kebab. For 5 euros. I KNOOOOOOOOWWWW I'M SOOOO WEAKKK.
For a so-called vegetarian on a budget I am doing a shitty job of it. But I was hungry. And my iron levels were low. And I was depressed knowing I had to go back to my town after spending the day with people my own age. So I gave in.
I am officially at -69 euros. Ugh. And when I was at HM I saw such cute things I wanted to buy. I really need a pair of this season leather riding boots. They go with everything.. And I wouldn't mind some converse sneakers as well, for those casual days. And some Uggs for those wintry-casual days.
Must. Stop. Thinking. About. Shopping.
Okaaaay going on www.nordstrums.com to fake-online shop to get rid of this craving.
* I would talk about the people that I met in gossipy detail but they might be reading this blog so I will refrain.
Me and BR (British Roommate) woke up at 7 to be there for 9. Lo and behold there were young people! Speaking English! It was wonderful. I was so shocked and overjoyed by hearing my own language spoken by people my age I babbled incessently.
Not the best way to make new friends, but I was overwhelmed, I couldn't control myself!
There were a lot of cool people there including 2 Canadians! (Its extra exciting to meet Canadians, at least for someone patriotic like me)
AND if that isn't exciting enough, here is the real news.
Last orientation took place entirely in French. I had no idea whatsoever what they were talking about. This orientation also tool place entirely in French, but I had some sort of idea what they were talking about!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The words made sense!!
Now, I didn't understand exactly what they were saying, and I certainly didn't catch all the nuances, but I could definitely understand the gist, if not precise directions.
That is definite improvement in a little over 6 weeks.
Day to Day it doesn't seem like I'm really improving, but its nice to know that at least if I'm bored out of my mind and want to kill myself, I'm learning something.
So they made us go around and tell them what lesson plans were working and our experience thus far.
Everyone spoke in French except for me.
I didn't major in French in university like everyone else and I wasn't going to fumble 20 min trying to speak when I could say what I had to say in 10 min. Which was basically that the kids are nice but they can't speak English for shit.
For break they brought in coffee and the head woman poured some for me, which was nice. But she stopped when the tiny plastic cup was half-way full.
"Ummm Madam, I'm going to need more of that. I'm Canadian, we drink full cups of coffee"
"ooo!" And she poured some more. "I was just making sure that there was enough for everyone"
oooops and there is me feeling like a selfish jackass.
Anyways we eventually broke for the 2 hour lunch and a bunch of people went to go get tickets for New Moon. I COULD have joined them if I LIVED in Le Mans, but I DON'T so I COULDN'T. Not feeling bitter about that at all.
I had brought a lunch, in my attempt to budget, and so did one other girl from New Zealand, making me feel like I wasn't the only nerdy one.
I don't have that much food, so my sandwich was 2 slices of brown bread (I finally bought bread), sliced Swiss Cheese and guacamole. Yes, Guacamole. Don't ask me why, I needed something to make the sandwich less dry and guacamole was the only thing I could find in my fridge. Plus, I needed to use it up before it went all moldy like my pesto did. Waste not, Want not!
This New Zealend girl is WAY better at budgeing than me. I need to learn some tips from her. For instance, she only spends 13 euros a week on groceries. That is crazy! I didn't even think that was possible. She is not emanciated or anything..
In Canada I would spend (an embarrassing) 75$ a week on groceries! And I'm not obese. (I don't think...I'm also not a size 00. Or even a size 4. OKAYYYYY, but I'm not sitting all my couch all day eating potato chips.)
After lunch we had to make lessons plans with videos or songs that we were given. That was surprisingly fun. My group got a song by Charlie Winston who "seduced France but is largely unknown in England" and he has really interesting songs and my new favourite artist.
After the orientation a group of people went to see New Moon, and I was left alone to shuffle back to my lonely and cold town.
Okay I actually stayed and did some browsing at HM. I was also really hungry, that Swiss cheese- guacamole sandwich did not hit the spot, so I grabbed a Kebab. For 5 euros. I KNOOOOOOOOWWWW I'M SOOOO WEAKKK.
For a so-called vegetarian on a budget I am doing a shitty job of it. But I was hungry. And my iron levels were low. And I was depressed knowing I had to go back to my town after spending the day with people my own age. So I gave in.
I am officially at -69 euros. Ugh. And when I was at HM I saw such cute things I wanted to buy. I really need a pair of this season leather riding boots. They go with everything.. And I wouldn't mind some converse sneakers as well, for those casual days. And some Uggs for those wintry-casual days.
Must. Stop. Thinking. About. Shopping.
Okaaaay going on www.nordstrums.com to fake-online shop to get rid of this craving.
* I would talk about the people that I met in gossipy detail but they might be reading this blog so I will refrain.
Tuesday 17 November 2009
As "American" as Apple pie
Saturday was SR (Spanish Roommates) birthday, yay! And on Sunday when I was lazing around in my LuLulemons (of course my makeup and hair were done though, my mother trained me well-you never know who's coming over) when our door buzzed. BZZZZZZ.
And in walked our new French 17 year old friends bearing an apple pie with magic candles.
I'm sorry, let me repeat that.
In walked 17 year old boys, carrying a homemade apple pie with special candles that never blow out.
Oh the French! So sweet! It was for SR's birthday of course.
I have eaten lunch at 2 Teachers houses and the desert has been apple pie for both times. Its a different sort of apple pie than at home, the apples are usually from their grandfathers garden or some other organic source and the apples are sliced on top of the pie without a crust over that.
Comme Ca!
So I think apple pies are some sort of true French tradition that the Americans STOLE from the French.
Anyways I can't imagine Canadians doing that. Even in university the boys barely offered me a slice of pizza. Nevermind cooked me an apple pie! Not that these boys cooked me a pie, but I can even less imagine a Canadian cooking a Spanish guy a pie!
And in walked our new French 17 year old friends bearing an apple pie with magic candles.
I'm sorry, let me repeat that.
In walked 17 year old boys, carrying a homemade apple pie with special candles that never blow out.
Oh the French! So sweet! It was for SR's birthday of course.
I have eaten lunch at 2 Teachers houses and the desert has been apple pie for both times. Its a different sort of apple pie than at home, the apples are usually from their grandfathers garden or some other organic source and the apples are sliced on top of the pie without a crust over that.
Comme Ca!
So I think apple pies are some sort of true French tradition that the Americans STOLE from the French.
Anyways I can't imagine Canadians doing that. Even in university the boys barely offered me a slice of pizza. Nevermind cooked me an apple pie! Not that these boys cooked me a pie, but I can even less imagine a Canadian cooking a Spanish guy a pie!
17 year old friends
Me and my roommate finally made some friends! On Saturday night we get a buzz. I thought it was the drying machine, but BR (British Roommate) opened the door to a young French girl.
She invited us to have pizza with her and her friends the student dorm across "campus". (Not that I understood what she said, BR translated)
About a month ago the same girl plus a guy had knocked on our door and invited us to a party which we couldn't make, and I had already eaten when she invited us so we told her we would be along later for drinks.
So we show up and there is a room full of 17 year olds. Okay not full, because it was a Saturday and the school dorms clear out, but there were about 7 kids.
17 year old friends are better than no friends!
So we end up chilling with them and at first its awkward but then we loosen up and it was fun! We did normal things, that are cross cultural, like watch funny YouTube videos and eat chocolate browines.
I showed them a clip from the film Bad cop, Bon cop, which is a Canadian dark-comedy about a murder that the Quebec and Ontario police must solve together. Its hilarious, have the movie is in French and half in English and it really shows the tensions and stereotypes of Quebec and Ontario.
For instance, the Quebec guy smokes, is hot and doesn't give a shit about regulations (hmm like the real French?) and the Ontario guy is very straightlaced and went to UCC (the best private school in Toronto). Anyways, I definitely recommend it.
These kids are all in this prestgious program which I have no idea what it's called but they make furniture. I saw a wooden chair this one guy made and it was super cool, it folded up and scooped your body perfectly. In high school. There rooms are super nice, nicer then ours! They have full length mirror, a study area with nice shelves, a long desk, and they are decorated with plants. For some reason every room had a lot of plants. They were all boys. I guess they like to garden? Maybe their mothers bought them the plants.
And then they showed us the rooms of other students and they are basically hostel-style dorms.
Apparently a bunch of privelleges comes from being accepted to this furniture program (I'm not sure it is a furniture program. Something to do with wood and making things.)
They also get their own kitchen and get to stay in the dorm during the weekend without supervision.
The girl isn't in this program, shes the principals daughter, so I guess she can also do whatever she wants.
She invited us to have pizza with her and her friends the student dorm across "campus". (Not that I understood what she said, BR translated)
About a month ago the same girl plus a guy had knocked on our door and invited us to a party which we couldn't make, and I had already eaten when she invited us so we told her we would be along later for drinks.
So we show up and there is a room full of 17 year olds. Okay not full, because it was a Saturday and the school dorms clear out, but there were about 7 kids.
17 year old friends are better than no friends!
So we end up chilling with them and at first its awkward but then we loosen up and it was fun! We did normal things, that are cross cultural, like watch funny YouTube videos and eat chocolate browines.
I showed them a clip from the film Bad cop, Bon cop, which is a Canadian dark-comedy about a murder that the Quebec and Ontario police must solve together. Its hilarious, have the movie is in French and half in English and it really shows the tensions and stereotypes of Quebec and Ontario.
For instance, the Quebec guy smokes, is hot and doesn't give a shit about regulations (hmm like the real French?) and the Ontario guy is very straightlaced and went to UCC (the best private school in Toronto). Anyways, I definitely recommend it.
These kids are all in this prestgious program which I have no idea what it's called but they make furniture. I saw a wooden chair this one guy made and it was super cool, it folded up and scooped your body perfectly. In high school. There rooms are super nice, nicer then ours! They have full length mirror, a study area with nice shelves, a long desk, and they are decorated with plants. For some reason every room had a lot of plants. They were all boys. I guess they like to garden? Maybe their mothers bought them the plants.
And then they showed us the rooms of other students and they are basically hostel-style dorms.
Apparently a bunch of privelleges comes from being accepted to this furniture program (I'm not sure it is a furniture program. Something to do with wood and making things.)
They also get their own kitchen and get to stay in the dorm during the weekend without supervision.
The girl isn't in this program, shes the principals daughter, so I guess she can also do whatever she wants.
Saturday 14 November 2009
Butter Update!
The 16 euro scale I picked up at Carrfeour informs me that I have lost a whole 1.2 lbs since being in France, (on a good day 2 lbs!) so I am going to keep consuming butter. I just toss it in and on everything now! Pasta, croissants, whatever!
I guess the French really do have something going on, since I have been eating whatever I want, including several spoonfuls of Nutella each night (yes, on it's own, I don't buy bread and I accidentally bought a supersize jar of Nutella that I am desperate to get rid of already!).
I guess the French really do have something going on, since I have been eating whatever I want, including several spoonfuls of Nutella each night (yes, on it's own, I don't buy bread and I accidentally bought a supersize jar of Nutella that I am desperate to get rid of already!).
Knees up!
After discovering the rock climbing gym, I went to the centre of town in the Place de la Republique, turned right into a dark alley way, walked through a parking lot and found the town's not-so-mythical gym!!
A real gym! It is tiny, and it wouldn't be out of place in an 1980s Jane Fonda workout video, but you take what you can get.
A plus: There were TWO age-suitable-good-looking men working out in the front room already.
It is 180 euros for 6 months if you are a student, which I am definitely going to pretend that I am. 30 Euros a month isn't so bad, and I really need something to do and its easy to whittle away 2 hours the gym.
They have classes as well, but I doubt they have yoga :(
Also the sucky thing is is that I don't think you can use the cardio when there is a class in session because they are both in the same room. I will just have to use the weight room. I will become a bulky he-man by the time I return to Toronto! Jokes, I'm way to lazy for that!
Also the hours are hilarious, it opens at 10 every morning, becuase, why would anyone want to to work out before they go to work? Gosh, what a ridiculous notion!
I'm not saying gyms have to be 24 hours, though they should be, but they should at least open at 6! School here starts at 8:30 am, not even 9, so what if a student wants to catch a workout before class? I guess that is just not an idea that enters into French consiousness.
Also, that would mean that the gym workers would have to be there at 6, which is completely unreasonable.
On Wed the gym is open at 2pm. Apparently people have no inclination to work out Wed morning either. At least the closing time is 9, which is not late, but is at least doable if you end work at 6. On Saturday, the gym is open for a whole 3 hours! Score! 10am-1pm. Bien Sur, the gym is closed on Sunday, but I never raised my hopes to include an opening on that day. You can't even shit on Sunday so why would you be able to squat?
Also, my English roommate pointed out that in England people go to the gym and there are a lot of BUFF people, but then I pointed out that there were also a lot of fat people in England. We decided that French people were naturally skinny and saw no reason to go to the gym to gain muscles when they were already slim. As opposed to America/Canada/England where people overeat and then act like a hamster to shed the weight.
I remember reading in French Women Don't get Fat, that French women do not torture themselves by running on a treadmill. Instead they play Tennis or an enjoyable sport several times a week.
Ah, the french, always in pursuit of the maximum amount of pleasure. The original Utilitarians.
A real gym! It is tiny, and it wouldn't be out of place in an 1980s Jane Fonda workout video, but you take what you can get.
A plus: There were TWO age-suitable-good-looking men working out in the front room already.
It is 180 euros for 6 months if you are a student, which I am definitely going to pretend that I am. 30 Euros a month isn't so bad, and I really need something to do and its easy to whittle away 2 hours the gym.
They have classes as well, but I doubt they have yoga :(
Also the sucky thing is is that I don't think you can use the cardio when there is a class in session because they are both in the same room. I will just have to use the weight room. I will become a bulky he-man by the time I return to Toronto! Jokes, I'm way to lazy for that!
Also the hours are hilarious, it opens at 10 every morning, becuase, why would anyone want to to work out before they go to work? Gosh, what a ridiculous notion!
I'm not saying gyms have to be 24 hours, though they should be, but they should at least open at 6! School here starts at 8:30 am, not even 9, so what if a student wants to catch a workout before class? I guess that is just not an idea that enters into French consiousness.
Also, that would mean that the gym workers would have to be there at 6, which is completely unreasonable.
On Wed the gym is open at 2pm. Apparently people have no inclination to work out Wed morning either. At least the closing time is 9, which is not late, but is at least doable if you end work at 6. On Saturday, the gym is open for a whole 3 hours! Score! 10am-1pm. Bien Sur, the gym is closed on Sunday, but I never raised my hopes to include an opening on that day. You can't even shit on Sunday so why would you be able to squat?
Also, my English roommate pointed out that in England people go to the gym and there are a lot of BUFF people, but then I pointed out that there were also a lot of fat people in England. We decided that French people were naturally skinny and saw no reason to go to the gym to gain muscles when they were already slim. As opposed to America/Canada/England where people overeat and then act like a hamster to shed the weight.
I remember reading in French Women Don't get Fat, that French women do not torture themselves by running on a treadmill. Instead they play Tennis or an enjoyable sport several times a week.
Ah, the french, always in pursuit of the maximum amount of pleasure. The original Utilitarians.
Rock Climbing
I went searching for this mythical gym that I keep hearing about, and my Spanish roommate told me that there was a small gym at school as well. So I find it beside the basketball courts and find a bunch of students playing volleyball, but no weight or cardio room. Then I see a door and push it open. That is where I discovered that the school has a rock climbing room!
A bunch of little kids are climbing it but I ask the guy with a computer who looks to be in charge if there is a time that I can come climb, and he says that there is a rock climbing club that meets Tues and Thurs.
He was also cute and spoke a bit of English. Possibly married. Better then lusting after an 18 year old student though, right?
It happened to be Thursday so I went back at 8 pm in my workout clothes and lo and behold there were adults climbing! It is only 56 Euros for a year to join and you have to buy some equipment, but the gym also has stuff for the first few times.
I have rock climbed before at random events, like camp and school and once with my friend Joanna in a sports store in Buffalo (shout out!) but I always wanted to get really "into" it.
In fact the other day I was just looking at the website of the alpine club of Canada and planning to join when I get back home. But this is perfect because
a. I will get a workout
b. I will meet people
c. It's a cool sport
Now, there is one guy there who speaks English because he spent 10 months in England, but no one else does. So we have to communicate with the little French I have and it's pretty funny. Especially with a sport in which you have to trust a stranger to keep you from falling to your death and smashing all the bones in your body. Ha. Ha.
Did I mention I am terrified of heights?
I think I'm a self-sadist.
The club leader, Carol, is super nice though and she taught me how to tie all the knots and some different ways to rock climb so that not all my weight is hanging on my hands.
There is also one semi-hot French man there but he didn't pay me one iota of attention and might possibly be gay. Not because he didn't pay any attention to me, but because he has one of those earrings and just kind of....I don't know I get a gay vibe, but we will see.
Again, crushing married and gay men is more legally acceptable then crushing on my students. Even if they are 18 and a foot taller than me.
Anyways, I woke up the next morning in SERIOUS forearm pain. I could barely clench my fists together.
Now I just have to figure out how to pay for it, 50 euros isn't a lot but it's more than the -14 euros I have in my bank account.
Maybe I can write a post-dated cheque for next month....
A bunch of little kids are climbing it but I ask the guy with a computer who looks to be in charge if there is a time that I can come climb, and he says that there is a rock climbing club that meets Tues and Thurs.
He was also cute and spoke a bit of English. Possibly married. Better then lusting after an 18 year old student though, right?
It happened to be Thursday so I went back at 8 pm in my workout clothes and lo and behold there were adults climbing! It is only 56 Euros for a year to join and you have to buy some equipment, but the gym also has stuff for the first few times.
I have rock climbed before at random events, like camp and school and once with my friend Joanna in a sports store in Buffalo (shout out!) but I always wanted to get really "into" it.
In fact the other day I was just looking at the website of the alpine club of Canada and planning to join when I get back home. But this is perfect because
a. I will get a workout
b. I will meet people
c. It's a cool sport
Now, there is one guy there who speaks English because he spent 10 months in England, but no one else does. So we have to communicate with the little French I have and it's pretty funny. Especially with a sport in which you have to trust a stranger to keep you from falling to your death and smashing all the bones in your body. Ha. Ha.
Did I mention I am terrified of heights?
I think I'm a self-sadist.
The club leader, Carol, is super nice though and she taught me how to tie all the knots and some different ways to rock climb so that not all my weight is hanging on my hands.
There is also one semi-hot French man there but he didn't pay me one iota of attention and might possibly be gay. Not because he didn't pay any attention to me, but because he has one of those earrings and just kind of....I don't know I get a gay vibe, but we will see.
Again, crushing married and gay men is more legally acceptable then crushing on my students. Even if they are 18 and a foot taller than me.
Anyways, I woke up the next morning in SERIOUS forearm pain. I could barely clench my fists together.
Now I just have to figure out how to pay for it, 50 euros isn't a lot but it's more than the -14 euros I have in my bank account.
Maybe I can write a post-dated cheque for next month....
Thursday 12 November 2009
My visa is beside my ice cream
Ok, thats a lie because I don't have any ice cream.
But after researching budgets and money tips, I took a major leap and froze my credit card.
Literally.
Put my visa in a sandwich baggie, filled it with water and stuck it in the freezer.
I feel like the girl in Shop-o-holic (book not movie)
Does anyone remember when she sealed her credit card in her powder compact and then kept having to buy new compacts because she always smashed it open?
But seriously, now, when I'm young is the best time to get into these types of habits. I obviously spend to much on stuff that I don't need and I need to learn within my means. I mean, the French make way less then the average Canadian and they seem perfectly content with what they have. Perhaps because they don't know what their missing, but the outcome is the same.
Next, The envelope method of budgeting! I will be using cash for the first time in my life.
I am the girl who pays for her 1.87$ coffee with debit.
No longer! Cash is my new best friend.
In case you don't know what the envelope method is, it involves make envelopes with categories like "Entertainment" or "Food" and then putting in the amount of cash you want to spend every month. That way, once its gone its GONE and you are always aware of how much you have left.
Simple, and hopefully effective.
So I have about 55 euros in cash that needs to last me until my next payday, the 27th.
hahah, this will be fuuuuuuuuuuuuuun.
But after researching budgets and money tips, I took a major leap and froze my credit card.
Literally.
Put my visa in a sandwich baggie, filled it with water and stuck it in the freezer.
I feel like the girl in Shop-o-holic (book not movie)
Does anyone remember when she sealed her credit card in her powder compact and then kept having to buy new compacts because she always smashed it open?
But seriously, now, when I'm young is the best time to get into these types of habits. I obviously spend to much on stuff that I don't need and I need to learn within my means. I mean, the French make way less then the average Canadian and they seem perfectly content with what they have. Perhaps because they don't know what their missing, but the outcome is the same.
Next, The envelope method of budgeting! I will be using cash for the first time in my life.
I am the girl who pays for her 1.87$ coffee with debit.
No longer! Cash is my new best friend.
In case you don't know what the envelope method is, it involves make envelopes with categories like "Entertainment" or "Food" and then putting in the amount of cash you want to spend every month. That way, once its gone its GONE and you are always aware of how much you have left.
Simple, and hopefully effective.
So I have about 55 euros in cash that needs to last me until my next payday, the 27th.
hahah, this will be fuuuuuuuuuuuuuun.
Wednesday 11 November 2009
Cheap Potage
I'm writing this as my my leek-carrot-potato soup is simmering.
I just took out 50 euros from the bank and the receipt said that I was NEGATIVE 14 euros. Fun! How I got to this dire state will be explained in the next post, after I check out my account online and figure out where I spend my money.
So I have a feeling I will be cooking this soup quite a bit this month.
i literally looked around the grocery store and thought What is the cheapest produce?
This search led me to carrots, potatoes and onions. You can buy kilograms of each of these for one or two euros! (This deserves an exclamation mark because I get excited about things like this)
1 kilo of carrots is 65 cents! That is ridiculously cheap.
So I basically plan to live off of those 3 basic foods. Want to follow my journey until my next paycheck?
I'm not some sort of huge carrot, potato and onion fan, I mean, I much prefer tomatoes and mushrooms and veggies like that, but it is always good to branch out and try new foods. At least that is what they told us in kindergarden.
I'm no Robert Fulgham, but those kindergarden teachers were pretty smart okay?
And don't worry, I also have some other stuff in my pantry including spices, canned beans and tomatoes, leeks that I bought on sale, pasta (39 cents for 500 grams if you buy Carrfour Discount label) and an almost-stale bag of chocolate croissants.
But lets get back to the 3 basics.
I figure that there are a bunch of different dishes that I can make with these.
I made leek-carrot-curry-couscous for lunch the other day.
I just sauteed the veggies, boiled the couscous and sprinkled on curry sauce. It took about 5 min and was good!
Today I used my fool-proof chop'n'drop method of cooking that I utilize, oh, for every single meal, and chopped up potatos, carrots, onions, leeks, garlic and threw it into a big pan with olive oil. Then I added some random spices including: salt, parsley, Thyme. We'll see how it tastes when its done, but it smells good!
I also often make oven-fries, which is really tough. I have to chop up potoatos then put them in the oven for 30 min at 250 degrees. I don't know if you guys will be able to do that. It takes skill. Sometimes I even drizzle olive oil on them.
N:b: No peeling! I never peel anything, all the nutrition is always in the peel. Even Kiwis, I eat the fuzzy part. Some people say that that is gross, but I went to camp and all the cool counsellors did it so, yea..
I am a vegetarian so it makes cooking easier (I think) and I also really like veggies, which is a plus.
My next recipe- since I never make batches, because I am a hungry girl and if I make enough for leftovers I inevitable end up eating it before I should- is this
Its curry-carrot-leek soup! So basically my 2 recipes together. Sweeet. I will continue to peruse great sites like www.allrecipes.com for things I can make. You can just type in the food that you have and a bunch of recipes will come up. Its great. Also, I have so much time on my hands and this is semi-productive.
I just took out 50 euros from the bank and the receipt said that I was NEGATIVE 14 euros. Fun! How I got to this dire state will be explained in the next post, after I check out my account online and figure out where I spend my money.
So I have a feeling I will be cooking this soup quite a bit this month.
i literally looked around the grocery store and thought What is the cheapest produce?
This search led me to carrots, potatoes and onions. You can buy kilograms of each of these for one or two euros! (This deserves an exclamation mark because I get excited about things like this)
1 kilo of carrots is 65 cents! That is ridiculously cheap.
So I basically plan to live off of those 3 basic foods. Want to follow my journey until my next paycheck?
I'm not some sort of huge carrot, potato and onion fan, I mean, I much prefer tomatoes and mushrooms and veggies like that, but it is always good to branch out and try new foods. At least that is what they told us in kindergarden.
I'm no Robert Fulgham, but those kindergarden teachers were pretty smart okay?
And don't worry, I also have some other stuff in my pantry including spices, canned beans and tomatoes, leeks that I bought on sale, pasta (39 cents for 500 grams if you buy Carrfour Discount label) and an almost-stale bag of chocolate croissants.
But lets get back to the 3 basics.
I figure that there are a bunch of different dishes that I can make with these.
I made leek-carrot-curry-couscous for lunch the other day.
I just sauteed the veggies, boiled the couscous and sprinkled on curry sauce. It took about 5 min and was good!
Today I used my fool-proof chop'n'drop method of cooking that I utilize, oh, for every single meal, and chopped up potatos, carrots, onions, leeks, garlic and threw it into a big pan with olive oil. Then I added some random spices including: salt, parsley, Thyme. We'll see how it tastes when its done, but it smells good!
I also often make oven-fries, which is really tough. I have to chop up potoatos then put them in the oven for 30 min at 250 degrees. I don't know if you guys will be able to do that. It takes skill. Sometimes I even drizzle olive oil on them.
N:b: No peeling! I never peel anything, all the nutrition is always in the peel. Even Kiwis, I eat the fuzzy part. Some people say that that is gross, but I went to camp and all the cool counsellors did it so, yea..
I am a vegetarian so it makes cooking easier (I think) and I also really like veggies, which is a plus.
My next recipe- since I never make batches, because I am a hungry girl and if I make enough for leftovers I inevitable end up eating it before I should- is this
Its curry-carrot-leek soup! So basically my 2 recipes together. Sweeet. I will continue to peruse great sites like www.allrecipes.com for things I can make. You can just type in the food that you have and a bunch of recipes will come up. Its great. Also, I have so much time on my hands and this is semi-productive.
Tuesday 10 November 2009
BREAKING NEWS
I have facebook!!!
6 weeks, several phone calls and visits later (okay my roommate made the phone calls and visits) we finally have facebook!
and INTERNET.
INTERNEEEEEEEEEEEET.
That means I can watch tv! Talk to my friends! Update this blog! Read the Newspapers! Date online! (JOKKKES, gosh, as if) Watch porn! (that's more for my male roommates), Book train tickets! Wikipedia everything that pops into my head!
AND it won't be shut off at 2am like the school internet. And hopefully it will be more reliable.
I just explained to my British roommate that in Canada we would go on field trips to museums of like in the 19th century and they would show us the toys that the children had to play with, that consisted of a ball and a cup, or a 2 sticks and the teachers would always say "don't you feel sorry for the kids! They must have been so bored!"
I have been feeling like those 19th century children. But no longer. I have entered the 21st century!
6 weeks, several phone calls and visits later (okay my roommate made the phone calls and visits) we finally have facebook!
and INTERNET.
INTERNEEEEEEEEEEEET.
That means I can watch tv! Talk to my friends! Update this blog! Read the Newspapers! Date online! (JOKKKES, gosh, as if) Watch porn! (that's more for my male roommates), Book train tickets! Wikipedia everything that pops into my head!
AND it won't be shut off at 2am like the school internet. And hopefully it will be more reliable.
I just explained to my British roommate that in Canada we would go on field trips to museums of like in the 19th century and they would show us the toys that the children had to play with, that consisted of a ball and a cup, or a 2 sticks and the teachers would always say "don't you feel sorry for the kids! They must have been so bored!"
I have been feeling like those 19th century children. But no longer. I have entered the 21st century!
Saturday 7 November 2009
Pics from my one day in Paris
So I went to Paris for a day, due to me booking the Eurostar too late for me to catch a train back to my hometown. See what I did on that one, fateful day: (okay it wasn't fateful at all, I mostly just shopped)
C'est Moi in front of the river Siene. The picture doesn't really show how pretty it was. It was actually raining, and my feet hurt and I was cold and worried about my hair curling, but you can't tell from this picture. I think the rain added to the atmosphere. It made everything all dreary and made me want to duck into a cafe and write my miseries away and pretend to be Hemingway or Simone de Bouvoire. But those cafes are pretty expensive and I don't really understand how to order food since the set meal always has meat in it, so I went to Starbucks instead.
Please look at this random, sketchy statue. It's so sexual. In a lopsided, Dali kind of way.
Look at the beautiful pasteries. The colours! The menu! Such a classy French boulangerie. Don't you think?
Think again!
Its MCDONALDS!!!!!!!!!!
A homeless man in front of the Pompidou.
This is the second-favourite-bookstore mentioned in my last post-Shakespere and Company.. It's right across from the Notre Dame and is famous. Well, as famous as a bookstore can get. To be fair to me, I stumbled across it innocently my first time in Paris. The second floor has books that you can't buy, but can only read in the store. A lot of them are signed or valuable copies I guess. The first floor has a mixture of used and new books. And there are ladders. Any bookshop with ladders rocks in my book. ooo a pun!
C'est Moi in front of the river Siene. The picture doesn't really show how pretty it was. It was actually raining, and my feet hurt and I was cold and worried about my hair curling, but you can't tell from this picture. I think the rain added to the atmosphere. It made everything all dreary and made me want to duck into a cafe and write my miseries away and pretend to be Hemingway or Simone de Bouvoire. But those cafes are pretty expensive and I don't really understand how to order food since the set meal always has meat in it, so I went to Starbucks instead.
Please look at this random, sketchy statue. It's so sexual. In a lopsided, Dali kind of way.
Look at the beautiful pasteries. The colours! The menu! Such a classy French boulangerie. Don't you think?
Think again!
Its MCDONALDS!!!!!!!!!!
A homeless man in front of the Pompidou.
This is the second-favourite-bookstore mentioned in my last post-Shakespere and Company.. It's right across from the Notre Dame and is famous. Well, as famous as a bookstore can get. To be fair to me, I stumbled across it innocently my first time in Paris. The second floor has books that you can't buy, but can only read in the store. A lot of them are signed or valuable copies I guess. The first floor has a mixture of used and new books. And there are ladders. Any bookshop with ladders rocks in my book. ooo a pun!
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