Homeless in Ohio

Cincinnati

Toledo

I spent about a week catching up with people in Cincinnati and wondering why I came back to Cincinnati at all. Seeing friends was obviously great, but it certainly isn't easy to leave the beauty of France to return to the butt ass ugly of Ohio. I also got the good old Subaru checked out to make sure nothing too major was wrong for the return to Seattle. I replaced something small, but the rest of the stuff that could have used fixing could wait (according to the car guy). The day came that it was time to make the drive to Toledo to stay with my sister. I wasn't sure if my boxes would fit in my car and it definitely looked like it would be a close call. The last thing that I needed to happen was to have things not fit. Luckily, I don't own much and I managed to squeeze every last thing that I own into my car and I was off! The scenery didn't exactly improve though by heading to Toledo. If you can imagine, I think it got worse. Yes, there is worse than brown murky water and flat land. Of course, my car was acting a little weird on the drive so I figured a second look couldn't hurt. And it's not like I had much to do for two weeks anyway without a job and all. I headed to Chicago Tuesday and my car went in Wednesday. I needed to get some city time since the suburban life was causing hives and anxiety. Well, maybe not the hives but I am pretty sure the anxiety was actually starting to kick in. On my last day in Chicago, I found out that those problems I was told I didn't need to fix, I should in fact fix. The Subaru has put up a good fight, but putting more money in it and driving it back to Seattle didn't make sense anymore.  Luckily, the car guy knew a guy with a used car lot, he drove my car for ten minutes and wrote me a check. Well, that was sure easy. I guess everything really does work out. Now that I don't have a home, job or car...I am officially homeless.

Ooops! Forgot to Say I'm HOME!

After my escape from the "scary ass Russian guy" I got to spend a few days back with Brigitte and Philippe. I think that was the best way to conclude my trip. I brought back tons of wine and chocolate for us to devour along with all of the fantastic food that I had missed. I had almost forgotten how hard it is to get motivated when you have eaten your weight in duck and deliciousness cooked in duck fat. Good thing the pool was opened while I was gone so that I could just move a few feet with my wine and relax somewhere new. Leaving was still sad this time but it was easier than the first. I spent my last two days in Paris. I figured since I had come all this way I should probably see the Eiffel Tower or whatever.

Right across the street from my "hotel"

Getting Caught Up

I have been terribly lazy about blogging lately, but for good reasons. First, Brittany, Zane and I had a little adventure to the south coast. We stopped in Avignon first to see Pont Du Gard, visit the city and we found an awesome guy to couchsurf with. Next, we took a short train ride to Arles to see some more Roman ruins and just visit. We found a pretty cheap hostel to stay in but it was for sure low budget. I was all for it of course and did most of the convincing that we didn't need anything nicer. We had a fabulous view of a Chinese restaurant and after Zane and I stared at all the people and watched all of the delicious food come out, we quickly arrived at the Chinese restaurant. Come morning, we headed off to Cassis, which was my favorite by far. It's on the water and not too big of a city so it's not terribly touristy. I could tell that there were less tourists when we arrived at the beach and I was greeted by topless old ladies with boobs to their knees. These people were definitely regulars since their skin was like jerky. Besides seeing too much of too many people, the city was beautiful and the gelato was fabulous. We had trouble finding somewhere to stay and ended up spending too much to stay at a Best Western where we had to sneak Zane out of the window in the morning in order to avoid anymore fees. The old woman at the front desk was onto us, but she had no proof of our plan. We successfully only paid for two people but had to sleep three in one bed. If there is ever a time that people need matching pajamas, it was this night. We returned to the castle the next day but not without too many train rides and a failure to catch the last bus by 10 minutes. I tried to rally the team to hitch hike our way home, but to my dismay, we ended up paying out the ass for a taxi that drove twice the speed limit and chose to drive in the middle of the road even around blind turns. We managed to make it home safely and greet two new workaways. I absolutely loved our new workaways, they let me show them around the city and ventured with me on the bus. We got super lucky and found an amazing cherry tree while killing time for the bus, bought goat cheese at the local shop and held a newborn baby goat at the fromagerie. This was all before we found a Burgundy wine tasting that cost 5 euro to try too many wines to count. The next day we found yet another place to try more wine, dried our bucket of cherries and drank and ate our way through the days. I was sad to leave, but we made a pretty good run of the few days I was still there.

Scary Ass Russian Guy

Okay, so I am alive. I got back from Geneva, worked a few days and headed right back off again to the south of France. I'm an asshole, I know. Anyway, first thing is first....the Russian guy. He has a name but I just call him Porn Stache Guy. He speaks extremely little English so I can say this all I want without him knowing. He arrived about a couple weeks ago and seemed friendly enough, but my creepdar went raging wild when I met him also. I figured it was nothing and went about my business being nice. That was a mistake. I started seeing him looking out windows in my direction and once he realized I was staring back at him he would either dart away, wave or give a thumbs up. I think the thumbs up was the weirdest for sure. Anyway, I got over it. Maybe he was looking at something else. Then, I'm out weeding in the yard...I see him, with hand on his cheek, head tilted to the side, looking in my direction. Oye vey! This gets worse every day. Then, he manages to ask me my name. I realize now I should have said Winston Churchill or Paris Hilton. Anything besides my real name. Because now, he sees me and says my name like 5 times and it would be way more entertaining to hear him call me something else and I would order him to say the first and last name. I always have good ideas after the fact. The worst was right before we left for the south of France....I am sitting alone at the table and he looks at me and says "I love you." I think to myself, wait a minute, that can't be right. I say, WHAT?" And he says it again. It goes like this about 5 times because I could not believe my ears. He then asks if I am from America and when I say "yes," he makes motions and says a few words about him coming to America and then holds him arm out like we are arm in arm and walking. My first assumption is that he wants his green card and wants to get married to an American girl. Again, I realize later that I should have punched him in his 13 year old style mustache and kicked him in the dick. That would have made my point VERY clear. Needless to say, I locked my bedroom door before heading south to keep my shit locked up. Now that I'm back, I am pretty much a bitch and I pretend like he doesn't exist. It seems to be working. I alerted everyone that if I scream in the middle of the night, to grab sharp/blunt objects and come running.

If Death by Cheese is Possible, I Nearly Died

I got up stupid early on Friday to catch the first bus out of Chenoves headed towards the train thinking that my couchsurf plan was, for the most part, figured out. I arrived in Geneva at about 12:30 in the afternoon and after a text and phone call, I still had no response from my first couchsurf buddy. Granted, it hadn’t been officially confirmed, but I hadn’t heard a no either and I guess assuming was probably a bad idea. Seeing as how it was early, I decided to cruise around Geneva and await a call or text. I didn’t get a map or anything, just went down streets that looked important and found my way to the waterfront, passed hundreds of Rolex signs and important business meetings in a different language each time. I had a nice little day on my own but come dinner time, I still hadn’t heard anything. I start coming up with a “plan B.” “B” consists of either a hostel (but I heard that they sell out quick in Geneva since everything costs your soul and and first born), sleeping in the train station, wandering around all night surviving on coffee or looking sad at the bar and hoping someone takes me home. Obviously, the safest is a hostel and probably the most realistic.                                        My CS buddy texts and it looks like the car is full going to Lausanne and the floor is packed with people that plan further head than myself. I start looking for hostels/cheap hotels and keep getting shot down. I prepare myself to spend an ass load on a room and perhaps pretend I’m on a luxurious vacation. The last place I try had an opening! It was in the “hooker district,” but hey, I couldn’t exactly be picky at this point and hookers are usually friendly people. In the elevator I could tell the girl next to me was American also and we end up in the same room. We start talking and Kaitlin and Mandi are both from California but studying abroad in London and Sweden. In our room is also an older Moroccan woman, a woman from Zimbabwe and lastly a super cool woman from Texas who is dating an Eritrean refugee and had some amazing stories (she might be my new idol). The Moroccan woman only slept and ironed so staying in the room to hang out wasn’t too appealing. We went to get dinner and to our dismay, drinks were around 15CHF, so a little over $15. Balls. Looks like a drink is out of the question, especially when we saw that they weren’t the size of our heads (which would be the only way to make that price justifiable). We head back to the room to plan the night and Morocco is STILL sleeping. As I have said before, my ideas are usually similar to those of homeless people. We have a bottle of rum but there is “no drinking” in the room and an old Moroccan woman sprawled out in the bed. Homeless style, we take our booze to the bathroom and drink next to showers and toilets. Then we head out on the town and approach what we are 50% sure is a strip club, but it’s so close to the hostel that we have to check. It’s not a strip club and we meet the manager instead and ask where to just get a drink and relax. He takes us to a different bar he manages, buys us what I am pretty sure was a “Washington Apple,” not sure if that was on purpose, but I appreciated the west coast friendly choice either way. All night they play rap from only west coast artists and we are loving a taste of home. We stay awhile and decide to head home to sleep for our big day of exploring the next day. I climbed into my top bunk and fell asleep to the crunching of Mandi snacking on Cinnamon Toast Crunch, a good end to a good evening. Thank you lord everything works itself out. We planned on riding bikes around all day and sightseeing, but the rain ruined that real quick and we resorted to the bus.

The highlight of the day was also the same thing that nearly caused me to burn a restaurant down. Seeing as how all 3 of us get a traditional dish when we go somewhere, we decided to do it up fondue style. Now the fondue was amazing and I felt like I was 8 months pregnant with triplets by the end (not to be included with the good part), however the service was horrendous. Not sure if it was because we were American or if these old Swiss men were just straight up dicks. We almost had to start breaking shit to get attention and nothing happened in a timely matter once we did manage to pull them away from shining something to come to our table. We made eye contact with numerous waiters but they would just look at us and then clean something that didn’t need cleaning. The time was good for digestion but it was starting to get ridiculous. I have never thought about dining and dashing but out of pure anger, I tried to rally the troops to peace out, clearly they wouldn’t have noticed since they avoided our area completely. I paid reluctantly, but thought about using the fondue machinery to burn the place down. With clogged arteries and 3 cheese babies, I went off for more exploring while the other girls went back to nap. In flip flops and rain, I still managed to cover a lot of ground and get my chocolate. I had made contact with tonight’s CS plan and said my goodbyes and hopped on a bus to Gex, France. I had some time to kill in Gex, so I hit up a kebab place and watched the futbol game with drunk Frenchmen. As they were closing, Hayley and her friends arrived and we were all dead tired. They had gone to Germany all day to a theme park, so we hung out for a bit but then all passed out on the couch. Now, after an early morning bus ride and train ride, I am awaiting my next bus ride back home. All I want is a shower, nap and a talllllll glass of wine that doesn’t make me go broke. It was a great trip, I wish I could have seen more of Switzerland though! Now time to get to planning the next trip.


Switzerland Pictures:
http://www2.snapfish.fr/snapfishfr/thumbnailshare/AlbumID=3392855022/a=159385193_159385193/otsc=SHR/otsi=SALBlink/

This is Certainly NOT St Michel

I am now a black man.

If you couldn’t tell, I was crazy spoiled by Brigitte and Philippe. I always had more wine and food than I could handle. Brigitte warned me of American and English hosts being shitty about the food situation and she was totally right. My diet went from fine cheeses, fresh bread, duck and wine to cereal, sandwiches and more sandwiches and still some wine of course. I am now buying my own food and cooking it myself (or combining items on two pieces of bread). Life is not easy anymore. I figure this way at least, I can lose all that duck fat I was storing up! The French grocery stores are totally fun to explore at least. I bought some sort of nutella with cookie bits in it! Totally delicious and no help for losing duck fat, I realize this. And I have been buying random meats to try (probably as bad of an idea as it sounds). Ken and Lilli have also headed back to London so it feels like mom and dad left and now we have this castle to ourselves and the Romanian/French workers too, but oh well, it’s awesome. I found a brochure for wineries in the area, so Brittany came with me to explore. We saw some sketchy looking signs, but no front door and no one around. I managed to bust out a little French and ask a neighbor for directions. We ended up right back where we started and wandered into a tiny little winery room, but again, no one. We still remained trespassing and looked around for a minute anyway and I of course took some pictures. Then we see another man (with terrible teeth, this is how you know you are in the country). I work my French ways and we end up following him to his basement wine room. Brittany hung back since it looked sketchy, but where there is wine, I will be (even if it means possibly being attacked first). At least being attacked would have given me a reason to steal lots of wine and run I figure. It would have been a win/win either way really. It turned out totally safe and awesome though, no reason to steal. There were trophies and wine everywhere, so I knew it would be good. Unfortunately, I couldn’t talk too much with the guy, but the wine was delicious so I bought some and will be back to buy more for sure. There should be more wine the next village over also, which I plan on venturing to as well. I think about every village has some sort of hidden wine cave and I will find them all. I have said it once and I will say it again…I LOVE WINE.

Lake Geneva!

PS – I am working my couchsurfing ways into Geneva and Lausanne, Switzerland this weekend so I will be out of touch for the most part. Hopefully I will return with some amazing stories. Friday sounds like I will be touring Geneva, then off to Lausanne (on the lake) for a concert/festival, supposedly the biggest student festival in Europe. Then the next day will be more Geneva and a poker night across the border in Gex, France. I am totally stoked. I will be eating my weight in chocolate I am sure.

Sketchy Turin and Delicious Bologna

Smashed my head real good for this one

Monday morning we all woke up bright and early to get on the way to run errands and head off to Turin. Ken and Lilli tell us it’s about a 4 hour drive but with the errands it will be a little extra, so leaving at 9am we assume we should hit Turin by about 4pm or so. Obviously nothing ever happens as planned. We took Lilli’s mom to the airport, stopped to make some orders for the castle and then we thought we were on our way. I let Brittany take the mom’s spot in the front and Zane and I held down the fort in the back of the van like we were being smuggled into Italy. After ‘no more errands’ turned into ‘more errands,’ we get out of Grenoble by about 2pm (Grenoble is certainly not far from home). With numb asses from riding on the back floor of a Hyundai van, we were off. The drive was absolutely beautiful at least. We drove through the beginning of the Alps and lots of foothills. While the scenery was great, attempting to see it was like an obstacle course. I would scoot to one side of the van for a picture just in time to hit a switch back and get shot right back to where I came from. I did multiple somersaults in the back of the van that day. I have bruises and a sore back to prove it. But I got some awesome pictures, it was totally worth it. There were multiple times that I thought the van wasn’t going to make it up the hills. The hills were so steep and the turns so sharp, it sounded like we were going to lose something out of the bottom and go flying off the cliff. Obviously that didn’t happen, but I am pretty sure it was close. After god only knows how many hours of driving, we hit Turin at 8:45pm. Almost a full 12 hour day in the back of a van…sweet mother mary, that was terrible. And this table that we drove to pick up turned out to be a tiny table that could be found at any thrift store and the guys that were waiting for us were in a back alley and it looked like we interrupted their drug deal. Turin looked totally sketchy at night. What a great time to be dropped off in a new country where we know nothing of the language. We manage to find a hostel, say goodbye and head straight for beer and pizza. The guy making the pizza had a gigantic gut, 2 inch thick glass on his glasses and looked like his name was Mario. Clearly the pizza would be good, and it was. Thank you Italy for my pizza overload the last few days. We bought tickets to Bologna for the next day and headed to bed. In the morning we got an early start and figured we would pick up our tickets before some exploring. Long story, but we got hardcore taken advantage of by both France and Italy in about an hour. Our tickets could only be picked up back in France or by going to Milan (which would require more tickets) so we had to buy the exact same ticket again. Bad start to the day. After that we wanted the hell out of Turin and to go straight for Bologna. The train ride was one of my favorite parts. I made friends with the girl next to me (Marianna) and had a little Italian lesson, which made a HUGE difference. I was actually able to make sense to people when we got to Bologna. Not much, but some. And Alberto (another guy in our car) decided to be a part of this lesson. Marianna and Alberto both did not speak too much English, so lots of hand gestures were used. It all worked out well enough. By the end of the train ride, Alberto had shared pizza and a sandwich and Marianna had given us nearly a full bag of crackers. I love Italians! Even strangers just want to feed me. We part ways and start looking for hostels again. We find a super cute 1 star spot (I know 1 star and cute don’t match up, but having our own bathroom/shower was amazing), drop our stuff off and get to exploring. Most of the exploring was of bars and a few clothing stores. After a few hours of walking, we grab a nice bottle of wine and head to the roof of our hostel to celebrate our first night in Bologna. In the morning we buy tickets for an overnight ride home leaving at 11pm. Since it would be an 8.5 hour train ride, we might as well be asleep for it. With it being 9:30am now, we have lots of time to see the city. We walked for a solid 9 hours that day with backpacks on. Luckily, it was mainly underwear and my toothbrush in my bag, but it was still extra weight. We drank lots of amazing coffee, ate too much gelato and saved some appetite for our fancy Italian dinner that night. No menu that we looked at had good old spaghetti bolognaise though…we were in Bologna right? I ended up with tagliatelle, Brittany got tortellini and Zane got cotoletta and of course we got wine and tiramisu to close out the night. I don’t think I could say it was better than my fancy French meal but it was delicious. After something classy, I was forced to trash us back down. I bought a bottle of wine to drink in the park at night. I have way too many homeless person ideas that go through my head. I figured it would help with sleeping on a pullout train bed and that it did. 

I Live in a Castle.

It was incredibly hard to leave Brigitte at the train station. She told me that I could always call the next family and tell them there was an emergency and that I could not make it and just stay in St Michel for another month. I think if I had done that, I never would have left St Michel though. I was texting with both Brigitte and her son as my train pulled away and part of me almost jumped off and hitchhiked back, but I stayed strong and continued on my way. I had to stop in Lyon, which was just as busy and crazy as Paris. I was so glad to get the hell out of there. Now, I had emailed a reminder to my new hosts that I was coming, but heard no response. I was a bit nervous that no one would show up for me and that I would have to sleep at the train station or find somewhere else less homeless style to stay. I was actually 99% prepared for that. I thought for sure I would be on my own. Luckily, I wander off the train and look around for someone looking confused also and I instantly find Ken and Lilli. Ken is from the US and Lilli is from Romania. They are an absolute awesome couple. I love them already and am also very intrigued by them. They seem mysterious besides the fact that they live in London and bought a gigantic chateau in France. There is another couple here, which is awesome also, and we get along great and are trying to figure out as much as we can about our hosts. We know that they are stupid rich, own tons of properties and cars, Ken is like some super genius that finished school as a surgeon but now is a CEO of some company and could have retired years ago but didn’t. They are completely normal people though, extremely social, love the outdoors and have an English bulldog named Winchel. I want to know all about them but I know I never will. The internet has been out for like a month here so that’s probably why I never heard back from them. I guess being in an 18^th century castle has its downfalls! It is crazy beautiful here though. I go for walks and runs through vineyards and plan on drinking from every winery I can find. I am in the Bourgogne region now, no longer Bergerac. I am in awe at how many different wine regions there are. France is my favorite. Oh ya, the castle….OUTRAGEOUS. The two towers connected to it are from like the 13^th century and they look just like out of a story book. There is a chapel, huge barn, caretaker house, a couple random houses and a vineyard all on their land. This place is so big that Ken didn’t even know he owned the vineyard on his land until the mayor told him. Who accidentally owns a vineyard?! I think I will have a lot of good adventures staying here. Tomorrow Ken and Lilli are heading to Turin, Italy to pick up a couch, so Zane and Brittany (the other 2 workawayers) and myself asked if we could hitch a ride into Italy. We figure if they are going, we had better take advantage of it. I think we will be hitting up Turin, then to Genoa and maybe Bologna before coming back. We can only be gone a few days so we don’t want to spend our whole time on the train OR all our money. Who knows how this will work since we have had no way to plan besides looking at a map, but we figure if we can’t catch a train or bus, at least we have our thumbs and hopefully can look pitiful enough to catch a ride on the back of a hay truck. 

Housewife In Training: Complete

Tonight is my last night here in St Michel and I realized my transformation into a housewife yesterday. As I have said before, here at St Michel, the women do the "women's work" and the men do the "men's work." After 2 months I am STILL yet to see Philippe do a single dish. Even if he needs something that's dirty, he seems to find something else that is already clean and will work well enough. So yesterday, after I went to the bakery for bread, went on a walk with Brigitte, did some laundry and grocery shopping...I decided to go back to the spot where I had seen cherries growing during our walk. A weird urge came over me to bake a cherry pie. This has never happened before. You are probably imagining me skipping down the street in a sun dress with sunflowers, rainbows and hearts on it and carrying a perfect little basket with a small dog running behind me, but I actually looked quite the opposite. Now I say, "housewife in training" because I still had not completed my certification as of yesterday. When I went to pick these cherries, I was still dressed in my walking clothes (nothing pretty) and I was jogging to the cherry tree with a plastic bag from the hardware store. When I got there, the tree was very much taller than I remembered when we had passed it earlier. I had made the trek though, so some cherries were comin' down. I climbed up a ways and found myself surrounded by sticker bushes that stuck me all over real good. I nearly fell and rolled down the hill through them trying to reach a high branch, that was just one of the close calls I had from going cherry pickin'. I managed to get some cherries into my plastic bag after lots of jumping, getting cherry juice all over me and being bitten by plenty of weird things lurking in the grass around me. Not enough for a pie though. Fail. Once I make it semi-safely back to the road I narrowly avoided being shit on by a gigantic bird. It would have taken a looooong shower to clean off after one of those. That was the second close call. Then as I am heading back, I feel rain drops and lately when it has rained, it has POURED. I get nervous and start sprinting back to St Michel. It's up hill, so I get tired quickly. Luckily though, the rain stops and the sky breaks out into sun. That would be close call  the third. It feels like a pretty good day after I realize I have at least, some cherries, did not fall into sticker bushes, wasn't shit on by an over-sized flying animal and then rained down upon as I trudged uphill home. Anyway, I am now an expert gardener, painter, bed-maker, dish do-er, table setter, grocery getter and who knows what else. But with having a cherry pie making urge and completing my last full day at St Michel, I would say I am housewife ready...if that type of crap were anything I was interested in. NOT (please see the above picture...not the one with Jessica Simpson).

French Bikers, Death Rap and Ping Pong...? Ya, That's Right.

Sorry this week has been so busy! I ended up at a "Garden of Imaginery(translates something like that)" Then we went to a 14th century city and off to an awesome old castle. I need to get pictures up soon! So the last few days have been busy with work, checking out the surrounding areas and the usual drinking.

This weekend was the busiest I have seen it yet at St Michel. Brigitte overbooked us, so I was sleeping at the neighbor's place with her daughter and Brigitte ended up sleeping  in her office last night. It's a bit hectic at night to say the least. On Friday night 6 French bikers pulled up and parked their shiny new rides in the barn. I think if there was a way to sleep on their bikes they would have, or maybe even just lay the bikes down and spoon them in a circle. This morning Philippe said he saw them shaving outside next to their bikes. Oh Putain! Friday night though, Jean, Andrew and I went to the bar/barn to play some ping pong and relax and then once dinner was totally over, all the bikers came to check on their bikes (as if they would go anywhere). Andrew had his I-Pod on random, so we would go from a random funk song to death rap, I don't know if the French speakers understood much of the music either way. So we started getting into some ping pong with the bikers and this lone French couple that looked very proper, I have no idea how they came along for the party, but they arrived and were ready to hang. The woman kicked ass at ping pong. It was a pretty funny sight to see this woman with orthopedic looking shoes and an ankle length dress owning at ping pong. The badass guy with the huge biker jacket wasn't so badass anymore. That is most likely why he gave up and went back to stroke his motorcycle and talk about how fast it can go. We went to get another couple of bottles of wine to keep the party going since the bikers were about ready to make their own with whatever they could find around the barn. As usual, I wished that I could understand them, but I'm sure I would have been just as confused listening to them talk about motorcycles. The next day I woke up pretty sick and not with a hangover. I think that's what a few people thought, but it was more of me not being able to breath all night with congestion. It was awesome. I could hardly move in the morning so I slept most of the day. Last night I put together an "Irish Cure" as I called it and got some odd looks yesterday, as well as, today. It started out with some white wine (Philippe told me it would work), then I added a shot of whiskey (the real Irish part) and then red wine and then Brigitte helped me out with another special mix to cure my cold. Altogether, I woke up this morning feeling much better. I have a new recipe to cure any cold now. Yet another thing I learned in France. I am always staying educated.

Drinking, Swearing, Drinking and More Drinking...Am I Alive Right Now?

This weekend the Chambres D'Hotes was PACKED with loud drunk French people. Good LORD was this random group of people a terrible combination. After Brigitte and I busted our asses to feed this high maintenance bunch of assholes, we relaxed equally as hard. The wine was flowing, we were cheersing for everything and giggling like school girls. While the guests finished up, we figured it was time for a much needed French lesson. This lesson was all about bad words since we only had bad things to say about these guests, but it was the explanations that were the best. We were trying to translate between the French words for hookers, whores, and different "body parts" I will say (mom sensor, please use your imagination) for women in these professions. Never have I ever shot any sort of liquid out of my nose, but I managed to shoot red wine out of my nose and the corners of my mouth simultaneously. It was a terribly disgusting site and painful as well, hopefully no one else will ever see me do that again. Then I got the good idea that once Brigitte's son Jean arrived the next day, I should try out some of my new words. Brigitte is a fantastic mom, so she loved this idea. I had forgotten until the next day at lunch that this was the plan, but I quickly remembered when Jean made the mistake of making a fat joke while I was eating. Bad move, Jean, bad move. I leaned over to Brigitte and asked her to remind me of the meanest word we learned the night before, she got a little red, but then whispered it in my ear. In front of Brigitte, Philippe, Jean's sister and cousin and of course him...I looked him straight in the eyes and called him something that I don't even think I can translate, but I was assured that it was terribly mean. The table got quiet...I wasn't sure if I was going to get punched in the nose or throat, but luckily the silence turned into laughs and the swearing just continued. Phew! If there is a souvenir I want from France, it's not a black eye and so far I can still say, no black eyes for me.

Now, onto the drinking and more drinking in the title (mom, if you email me again about the evils of drinking, so help me sweet baby Jesus...).Anyway, this wall that was built and has been celebrated with at least a dozen bottles of wine already was to be celebrated yet AGAIN. Two English couples came over on Monday for lunch to toast the completion of the wall. I am finding out, that everything more impressive than a giant shit is celebrated multiple times. Why not? It gives a reason to drink. So starting at noon, we get into about 6 bottles of champagne. Then we have duck and pig skewers waiting, along with salad, some sort of "Catholic" dish that Philippe's family has been making for years (he is not even a little Catholic, neither is Brigitte but he always talks about the Catholic tradition) and apple pies made by yours truly. There was more food, but all of the drinking kind of blurs it all together. We manage to kill off the 20 liter box of wine, along with cognac and some sort of concoction put together by Philippe once the red wine was out. I checked the clock once we started cleaning up, it's 5pm. Oh Putain! We all head to our rooms for nap time. Then I am awoken, told to get my pants on, we are off to visit some family for more drinking. How am I alive to write this right now you ask...? I have no idea, but it's time for another nap I think.

Past Work-awayers

American Bitches

THIS is St Michel?!

Of course there were the girls from America that make us all look bad. These girls showed up in tall boots and made up like they were going to LA, not the country. This would have been the first sign for Brigitte to send them on a train to Paris and not kept them around in the first place. She let them stay and obviously they were not prepared for what they had gotten themselves into. Now, Brigitte loves to ask questions about religion and politics, just out of curiosity and to hear other people's opinions. Brigitte asked these girls why we have the president swear on a bible when church and state are supposed to be separate. Now, Andrew and I both thought this was an interesting question to ask. Andrew and I explained that he isn't praying, but still that the two should be separate but we do an absolute terrible job of keeping it that way. (I am doing my best to keep my religious views to myself right now, I don't need to go and piss off my mom after being sent to Catholic schools my whole life. That sure turned out as planned, haha.) Anyway, these girls got all weird on Brigitte and the English guys that were sitting there too thought that she wasn't offensive at all. When Brigitte took them to the train station to leave, they said nothing the whole way and Brigitte told them if they wanted to arrive at the train, that they had better make conversation (I love Brigitte). After these girls got out of the car, they looked at Brigitte and told her that she "hates America." I wish I could have seen her face because even now when she tells that story, she looks shocked. I have heard this story MANY times over wine and the story always ends with, "Oh Putain."

Cheese Machine

Urkel says it all

I just heard this one today and could totally picture this guy! So Brigitte doesn't sleep much and usually ends up waking up at weird hours during the night. She said that one night, she got up around 2am and noticed lights on, so she headed towards the kitchen. With all the lights on, in the corner near the cheese cabinet was a workawayer destroying the cheese. Apparently, this was like a nightly thing too. Brigitte said that everyone else could always wake up on time, but this guy was NEVER on time. I guess if you are up eating cheese all night, it's hard to wake up on that full stomach. I asked her if he was one of those sleep eaters, but nope, he just loved his cheese. My next questions was, "Was he fat? Brigitte said, "OH YES." And so then, I needed to know, "Was he American?" I know our reputation and it's that we are fat, lazy, and love things way too big. This guy sounded like he fit the description, even though I was hoping that he was from another country. Luckily, he was from Canada! We got lucky on that one.

Chinese, Australian, German Exchange Student

Not the actual girl, but looks like she's being weird enough to be her

As you know, this girl just left. We still have a good laugh about her though. She had her quirks. Most of the time she spent alone, with her computer, watching Chinese soap operas or something and laughing terribly loud at them. She also liked to sing to Chinese music with her I-Pod in. Andrew and I had to shush her a few times, she really was not good. She also had weird eating habits. She LOVED the rind on the cheese, which I don't think you are supposed to eat. We usually gave that stuff to Owen the dog. I told her to grab one end with her teeth and have Owen get the other and they could fight it out. Then she liked the bread to sit out and get hard also. She mainly liked to eat the stuff that gets thrown out and desserts. While I had gone to Bordeaux the second time, she baked a cake, took it upstairs and ate it all on her own, no sharing. I am sure Brigitte will love to share stories about this girl with other people that come threw.

Me

Je ne sais pas

I am finally allowed to drive Brigitte places since I haven't killed myself or someone else...yet. She now considers me able to drive the car. I figured this situation must have happened before since America is full of people that can't drive a manual car. Nope, Brigitte assured me that I am the ONLY person that has arrived in St Michel and had to learn to drive. I'm sure there are more weird things that I have done that have given her stories, but I will for sure be remembered as the American girl that couldn't drive the car. When Brigitte tried to teach me to reverse, I nearly killed her. She wanted to hold onto the open car door (bad idea). I slammed on the gas and shot back, hitting her with the door, which pushed her back against the flower bed and bounced her back against a stone wall. UGH. I would nearly kill the poor woman. And I am a total asshole and used every ounce of strength to not laugh, since it was a little funny. It was terrible and funny at the same time. Now we can laugh about it, but I know Philippe wasn't too happy with me for almost putting his wife in a wheelchair. All in the name of learning though right?

Brigitte....Did You Grab My Ass?

Sorry, somehow there is a good kitten picture for EVERYTHING

Sorry, there was no ass grabbing, I guess it would have been more of a pinch though. Rocks were being shot at me and it was not enjoyable. Since there are no men around, Brigitte and I were forced to tend to the lawn the other day. This lawn is not small or easy to take care of. I was in charge of the gigantic lawn mower with a Honda engine...bad idea. And Brigitte had the weed cutter that straps on like a back pack. We looked pretty badass and ready to cut some grass but the actual work of doing it was a bit rough. This lawn mower I had looked super old but my arms were sore after an hour of trying to hold onto the damn thing. It felt like I was walking 20 big dogs. If I didn't pull back on the mower, I was going to be pulled through France by this thing, it was pretty mean. And then Brigitte's weed cutter would hit rocks and shoot them through the yard. We had to close all the shutters around the doors so that we didn't break the glass. This meant that I got hit by the rocks instead though. I would get a sharp jab somewhere, often straight to the ass, and realize it was just Brigitte with the weed cutter. I was getting used to the whole "womens work" thing and starting to like it. Now, they have to send a woman (me) to do a man's job.

I already had one, so why not two?

Today I got to wash cars for an upcoming inspection, that surely hadn't been washed or vacuumed since the last time they had to be inspected. I think this "control" that cars go through every 2 years is similar to our emissions tests. Yesterday, Philippe was explaining to me how to clean the inside of the car, which was absolutely ridiculous but it's a good thing he showed me I guess, because there is no way I would clean a car how he does. According to Philippe, you wash the cloth seats of a car with a soaped up sponge and you cover everything else with this horribly toxic spray. It didn't seem to make sense what he was telling me to do, but I did it anyway and he seemed very pleased when I was finished. Luckily tomorrow I get to be a girl and bake apple pie most of the day.

Oh Putain!

To start, "Oh Putain" translates to "Oh Damn" with the google translator but out here I was told it means "Oh Shit" instead. This is also the phrase that I hear the most throughout the day.

This morning I finally convinced Brigitte to start going on walks with me. We both came downstairs wearing all black and Owen the Dog was coming along also (a black dog) so I told Brigitte we were the 3 ninjas. Unfortunately, I am sure she hasn't seen the actual "3 Ninjas" movie with Tum Tum and the gang. Either way, the week before, we had dubbed Philippe "The Last Samurai of St Michel," so together we sound pretty badass. Now, Brigitte isn't a big woman but she also isn't in much shape.  In a little over an hour of walking, she swore up a storm and the only words we spoke were "Oh Putain." We made it to the end though and she is willing to give it another go with me so that's good. I need all the exercise I can get out here!

Then, this GD hornet has been haunting me for days now and it only shows up when I'm in the shower and helpless. I never see the damn thing until I see it crawling into my running shorts or shirt. I hate bees/hornets and anything that can sting so I am too scared to do anything about it and I don't want bee guts in my clothes so I justs keep leaving him to his business. I leave the window open all night, but alas, when it's shower time, he shows his ugly face. "Oh Putain!!!" I HATE bees.

My last big "Oh Putain" of the day was at dinner tonight. Brigitte always tells me I have to finish things, so I usually attempt to if I can and she really pushes it if she knows I ran that day. She doesn't seem to understand what I am trying to do by running. I certainly would rather be sitting on my ass or napping. So at dinner, Brigitte fried up some fries, which I thought was bad enough. As I was finishing them off, she asks me if I have ever had anything like this before. Considering I had only had salad, fries and some cured ham so far, I thought she was referring to the ham (they butchered, salted and hung the pig themselves). And I tell her that the pig isn't too common, but you can get it and that I haven't had dressing like that before but fries are EVERYWHERE in the US. Her next question is..."OH, they fry french fries in duck fat in the US?" "Oh Putain!!" I should have known by now...not only were the fries fried, but they were fried in duck fat. They were so good, I could have guessed. BALLS! I am starting to wonder if Brigitte just wants me to fit the stereotype of the fat American. If she comes at me with a fanny pack, consider me on the next train outta here!

Where Would I Be Without St Michel?

First things first...I found a very important article that you should read. ESPECIALLY if you are at work right now and not wanting to work. Thank me later, here you go...http://www.forkparty.com/scenarios-that-would-be-awesome-to-drive-the-batmobile-to/

It feels SO GOOD to be back home to St Michel. I love me some adventures, but it's hard to beat it here. Andrew and Philippe had just finished re-building this super old wall the day before I got home, so I was just in time to celebrate. Earlier that morning Andrew had whispered to me that they randomly found some fancy bottle of pink champagne and that they decided it was for the wall. Around lunch time (when all the important things happen), we gather by the wall and start popping champagne like it was New Years. Our English friend Simon stopped by and the neighbor David also. We had a nice little gang going on for it being noon and all on a Monday. I kept my cool with the drinking though since I had to manage to drive to the boulangerie and to take Andrew and I on an adventure to some caves later that day. Andrew got to keep chuggin' down the wine though, so I got to pull another "Driving Miss Daisy" and haul his ass around. We arrived at the Grotte de Tourtoirac and had to wait for a lame French group to join us (this means not much explanation in English). Once we took the elevator down though, I didn't give a shit what language our guide was talking in, I was too busy being in awe of this ridiculous cave I was in. I felt like I was in a deleted scene from "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory."

The stalagmites and tites looked like marshmallows and shiny candy. I told Andrew to hold me back if I got excited and tried to lick anything. I figured I should prepare him. And of course there were no pictures allowed but the French bitch in front of me kept snapping shots, so I decided to use her as my shield while I took my own photos. It was so crazy to go from daylight in a little building on land, to taking an elevator underground into the dark to these outrageous caves. I was a total nerd and loved it. That was about the extent of that day, besides dinner of course (always good), since I had to be up at 4am to take Andrew to his train.

Bordeaux Part Deux

Arcachon

This trip to Bordeaux involved much more relaxing and much less walking. I am uploading some awesome beach and dune pictures as I type! I have never been out to gigantic dunes like the ones we went to on the west coast here. The climb was just about straight up and with how much you sunk each step, it was like you climbed this thing at least twice. I don't think anything has ever exhausted me so much and so fast. And then it's so easy to go down hill, you just slide, but then at the bottom you realize that you have to go right back up it to get back, ugh. The views were awesome though and worth all of the hiking. We didn't stay too long since it was getting a bit windy, so we stopped by a little seaside town called Arcachon. It was just as beautiful as this picture looks. It is definitely a rich little area and there were lots of old people with fancy little dogs. There were younger people too and lots of boats out, but there were for sure lots of retirees hanging around. I was absolutely freezing as it got later and was not prepared with the correct clothes since it was way hotter the day before, stupid me. The ice cream looked way too good though and the guy selling it even spoke English so I HAD to get some. I was a complete ice cube by the time I was done but still happy with my choice. When we got back to Bordeaux everyone came back over to Jean's (where I was staying) and played Mario Kart until like 4am. I love me some Mario Kart but these guys were way too out of control about it. I think I chose to pass out around 1am and let them continue screaming in French while I heard Mario screaming in English a bit quieter in the background. Always a good way to fall asleep. The day before though was way warmer and most of the day was spent on the water in Bordeaux sipping wine with a fabulous gay man that I have invited to come live with me whenever he wants! If you see my pictures, he will be the one with the big captain hat and his apartment is the one we are at with the amazing views of the city. He is crazy and I love him and he made for a very entertaining visit. I will be sure to see him again soon! Other than that, my visit involved more wandering, eating and visiting with people. I haven't been able to practice my French too much though and every French person that meets me wants to try out their English. I am sucking so bad at learning French! I have my key phrases and then I get fast responses in French and have to apologize for being American and ask if they speak English, fail.

My Big Fat American Hangover

Me but in a bed.

Close enough

Sorry I've been gone, had to go back to Bordeaux, I have a rough life. Anyway, the day before I left was spent with Andrew cooking our American feast. Of course we couldn't find all of the right ingredients out here so everything was adjusted and the BBQ wasn't much of a BBQ so poor Andrew had to spend about an hour getting the shit started while I busted my ass in the kitchen. Again, the stereotypical man and woman duties were set into place. Anyway, after far too many hours of cooking and the surprise that we were cooking for 11, instead of less like we thought, our meal turned out fabulous. How could it not though...? I was the one in the kitchen. For the first course I made some west coast style crab cakes and I also candied some bacon (it's not American without bacon). Then Andrew brought out his famous coleslaw and after that I got my roasted garlic mashed potatoes with Andrew's BBQ chicken and homemade BBQ sauce. Lastly, was of course, an American apple pie for dessert. The Irish couple also brought a "cheesecake" which was really some sort of awesome dessert with LOTS of Baileys in it. Now after cooking all day and preparing everything, you bet we were ready for some hardcore drinking. Every time I looked away, I came back to a full glass of wine. I'm no waster, so I just kept drinking and then we managed to find bourbon at the store so we busted that out at the end. Andrew and I finished whatever everyone couldn't, which was a very bad decision on my part. As I am about to pass out in my "cheesecake," I keep getting nudged to wake up to either drink more wine or more bourbon. And we got treated like monkeys at the end and were expected to show some sort of talent. The Chinese girl pulled out some typical awesome piano skills and Andrew was able to play along a little bit. This left me with zero entertainment skills..."Luckily," I know Philippe's love for Michael Jackson, so I threw that on and attempted the moon walk, pulled Philippe up with me, managed to make even him blush, so I sat my ass back done and went back to drinking. I didn't think it was possible to make Philippe blush, but I can do anything and so I did. I know it's rude and I was the chef and all but I definitely snuck off to be around 1am and passed out with shoes and everything on. It wasn't until about middle of the night that I realized I was highly uncomfortable and should take off my chucks and jeans and get something more suitable for sleeping on. That day I was also informed that I could go to Bordeaux for a few days and hadn't packed yet and didn't know what time I had to leave. Waking up was awesome, I had the spins, stabbing pains through my stomach and just felt like pure shit. I made it downstairs by 10am and with Philippe and Brigitte still asleep, I headed right back up to bed. Then, I was woken up around 11 and told I had an hour, which seems like a lot, but not when you want to hurl the entire time. I managed to throw a bunch of crap together and head off to the train. Oy vey! It was definitely a rough night and rough morning, but it was worth it.

I Heart Bordeaux

I’ve been MIA on the blog because I was in Bordeaux the last couple days and loving every second of it. On the first day we started out with lots and lots of coffee and then used Jean as our tour guide to explore the city (Jean is not only my tour guide, but also my GPS, he is very handy to have around). We wandered around a bit and stopped to get a kebab for lunch (not too good) but it all worked out since we all walked out and forgot to pay, so they ended up free instead. Apparently Bordeaux isn’t as expensive as everyone said it would be. After that we headed off to the waterfront and to see all of the amazing sites of the city. We walked miles for sure and it was great, but my “dogs were barking” and I needed a drink come about 2pm. We met up with some of Jean’s friends and hit up the market to get some beer and wine to take back to the water. Everyone in Bordeaux seemed to love drinking in the open (even though it’s not legal) and we attracted a pretty big crowd of booze hounds. We had the weirdest mix of people but we all had the love of drinking in common and that’s all that mattered. I couldn’t understand a word of what anyone was saying though, so I just enjoyed my surroundings and threw in a French word every once in awhile. With lots of help I am finally speaking some French. I’m sure I sound terrible and everyone thinks I have some thick accent but I’m getting there. After loads of drinking, Andrew, Katy and myself hopped the tram back to our hostel to freshen up for the night. When we got back to the rest of the guys at the water, the group had grown to a bunch of wasted homeless looking people, playing the drums extremely poorly. As soon as two sketchy guys started fighting over the booze, it was time to get dinner. We ended up at a Chinese buffet and it was heaven. Not what I expected to be eating in Bordeaux but it was a good change from duck, cheese and bread. I felt like I had a 5 month old in my belly by the end and you better believe I got my euros worth of food. The extra weight just made my feet hurt even worse. Towards the end of the night I was getting piggy-back rides back to the hostel. In the morning we met up with an Aussie that we had met the night before at the hostel and headed off to meet up with Jean to plan out the day ahead of us. We were completely shocked when we were told it was too early to order wine, it was already 10am and we were in wine country. I didn’t realize people stopped drinking wine out here. I watch Philippe chug at least a couple glasses every morning at 8am. Oh well, we could wait if we had to. We were ambitious and decided to visit at least 6 wineries for the day, but after calling them all, no one could take us but 1. That wouldn’t be until later, so we headed off to the market for what I thought would be a basic picnic in the park and turned into an outrageous feast. We bought wine, cheese, bread, duck, pork, strawberries, chocolate and way too much more. After lunch we hopped the tram to get to the winery that appeared to be close…we were almost an hour late and had to walk about 2 miles in the heat with blisters from the day before. The vineyard was awesome but we only got to try 1 wine and after the trek we made, that just wasn’t enough. Thank the lord we passed a bar on the way so we could stop and get a drink and some roadies for the train. We stood out extra bad speaking in English and drinking out of plastic bags, but it was the only cure for my aching feet. Our train left at 8pm to return home and was delayed of course, so by the time we hit our stop all I wanted to do was fall asleep. However, I get to hop in the driver’s seat and attempt to find the way home on random country roads that have zero street lights. It took forever and I made far too many wrong turns and nearly flew off the one lane roads when cars shot out of nowhere, but I guess I am a better driver because of it and I am also a champ at swearing in French now as well. I’m learning more every day out here. It was a fantastic visit though and I will for sure be back to Bordeaux before I leave St. Michel.

Chinese Dinner

Last night we had yet another fabulous dinner party. The girl here from China cooked like 5 different courses with duck (of course), dumplings, some crazy eggplant thing (with enough garlic to make my breath stink for weeks), fried rice and I can't even remember the rest. Food just kept coming and I just kept eating. I helped do some chopping for her and I think I still have raw duck in between my nails today after pulling apart duck fat for an hour yesterday. I am getting way too comfortable with having duck and duck fat in everything. (Side note: we had beans the other day, Andrew asked how they were so good and Brigitte listed a couple ingredients and the last was duck fat.) Anyways, there were 10 of us for dinner, but 2 were kids and we still managed to go through 6 bottles of champagne, at least 4 bottles of wine and then some 30 year old cognac that they found in the basement. I'm pretty sure something was floating in the cognac and it looked way sketchy, but I drank it anyway. A couple from England joined us and I have already promised to come back and help them build their house next year. One of the best and most inappropriate points of the evening was Philippe's impression of how the Chinese talk. There is no way to explain to him how bad that would be to do in public, so let's just cross our fingers that he doesn't do his impression outside of the house. I nearly shot champagne out of my nose multiple times when this big French buy pulled his eyes and started shouting in "Chinese." I really wish I could speak more French so that I could understand Philippe better, he's one of my favorites for sure. All we ever do is confuse each other, drink and giggle. He sang to me at dinner and it was a bunch more "Chinese," with my name thrown in and a couple random words in English that made no sense. It was a great song though, I wish I could have recorded it. That also reminds me of my first day here. Philippe looked at me, started singing "Blue Eyes" and shaking me because he liked my eyes. He really loves to sing, as you can tell I'm sure. I need to write Philippe a song one of these nights and play it on the air piano (his favorite). And tomorrow morning we are off to Bordeaux for a couple days. Look out vineyards, here I come!

Booze for Lunch

Yesterday was the most unproductive day I think we have had so far. All we did in the morning was go to the market and then we got back and started to get ready to paint, but then it was lunch time so we stopped. Brigitte and Phillipe had some friends stop by which usually means a party is about to start. I remind you that it's noon and we still have to start working...The first course was straight liquor and strong as hell and on an empty stomach was doing it's job fast. Then finally some food comes out and there are about 3 different duck dishes, potatoes, cheese, bread and pork and I think there was even more. Then we switch to white wine for a little with lunch and then end with red wine. Brigitte is tanked by this point and so is Philippe. Philippe had already started out the morning with a bottle or 2 of wine (he hides it in the bushes so Brigitte doesn't know), so he was way ahead of everyone. By this point I'm thinking that work isn't going to happen...but of course it does. I can't believe anyone was ready to trust me with painting after feeding me that much booze for lunch. I needed a nap hardcore and almost passed out in the hallway a couple times! The paint job looks like crap but I managed to get it done before it was time for dinner and more drinks. Brigitte, the lucky bitch, went and passed out while we were working. Being the woman of the house certainly has it's benefits. I don't think that there is any point during the day anymore where I don't have duck and wine coursing through my entire body. I'm starting to think that this is what heaven looks like.


Oh yes, and Brigitte and Philippe's son is in town now...I thought that meant that someone could finally drive besides me, but of course, the odds are always against me. I found out that Andrew had a DUI and that's why he has no license, the girl has just never driven in her life. But so, Jean (said like John) ALSO got a DUI recently, so out of 4 damn people, I am STILL the only one legal to drive. How that managed to happen...NO IDEA. And we are going to Bordeaux next week so I have to drive like an hour to the train and I am still stalling the damn car. I can't get the hang of it and it will be a total shitshow sending me that far. I have no choice though, so we will make it no matter how many times we almost die. 

It's St. Patrick's Day...We WILL Find Whiskey

A couple of days ago it was St. Patrick's Day, as you all know, so I was far too busy sitting on my ass drinking to send out an update, as I was the next day as well and most of yesterday while I’m on the topic... But back to St. Patty’s day, so in France people take the middle of the day off for napping, so it was not easy to find a bar in the early afternoon. We found one though after a couple tries and got our whiskey to celebrate (me and Andrew that is), homegirl (the Chinese aussie) didn't even want water. She just watched the tv and and laughed at a toothpaste ad....ya, she lives a thrilling life. I’m pretty sure she is certain that Andrew and I are headed straight to hell, not that either of us are concerned. But, since I was driving we didn't stay too long because that meant I couldn't pound any beers. We did find some boxed wine and some Killians, so we just set up our own bar back at the house. We celebrated the shit out of St. Patty's Day and my head was pounding in the morning (the sign of a good night). We got up early to go to the city the next day though and the highlight of the day was the feast that Andrew and I had ourselves. Again, the girl is a vegetarian and no fun, so she wandered by herself while we ate for 2 straight hours. The first course was foie gras and it was like butter. I don’t think we said a word while we were eating it because all we could do was savor. Then there was salmon lox (amazing), then a beef dish, medium rare with potatoes (heaven) and we ended with another type of fish (awesome) and of course the meal came with wine too. I don’t think I have ever had a better meal in my life. The rest of the day was spent with me and Andrew moving from one bar to the next, enjoying the weather and drinking more. Every time we put our stuff down this girl got all ADD and had to leave on her own. If anyone needs a few drinks and the stick out of her ass, it’s definitely her.

We're Gonna Need Helmets

Sweet Helmet

I'm super excited that there are finally two new people here to work with me! There is a girl that's 20, Chinese, from Australia but studying in Germany...weird combo. And then a guy from the Boston area that's 26. What is funny, is that NEITHER of them have licenses...I was hoping that maybe someone someone else could drive or help a sister out with some driving instruction, but nope. I'm GD Driving Miss Daisy out here now. How am I the only one that drives a car?! SO ya, we are going to need some matching helmets for sure since I still can't reverse. AND this means that if we go to the bar, I have to be the designated driver at all times. Maybe I'll take a tip from the show, "The League" and get drunk, call a tow truck and drink in the front seat and be driven home at the same time. I wonder if they have some sort of AAA out here...? Something to look into for sure. So this is sadly going to be a short entry since I agreed to play a board game in French...should be interesting since none of us speak French. I have a feeling we will give up pretty fast and try to hit up the store for more wine. I have made everyone agree that we need to invest in a big, fat box of wine. And this is France! You know that all the boxed wine out here has GOT to be high quality. We will find out. I will keep you posted.

My Converter Isn't Converting!

It's bound to happen

Luckily before I left I bought a converter and adapter so that I could plug in all of my necessary appliances. They don't seem to be working how I imagined they would though. I was trying to dry my hair the other day and even with everything plugged in correctly, I could smell fire and some of the wires in my dryer were turning bright red...I turned down the power and kept going with it once the smell lessened but then it just shut off. I thought I had blown something so yesterday when I had to get ready for a dinner party I stood outside for awhile (it was SUPER windy) and tried to go about drying my hair the natural way, I'm in the country and all I figured. Then it started to rain and I was just going backwards with the drying process. I decided to give the dryer a shot once more and it worked! No burning smell or anything, thank you lord! So then for the straightener...this has me more worried than the dryer. As soon as I turn it on, it sounds like it's sizzling. I always think I'm going to get some huge electric shock sent through my body when I plug it in or pick it up. I'm thinking about going hippie style and using nothing anymore. I don't want to die by hair appliance.

Good ol' America

So this dinner party I was getting ready for...oh boy was it interesting. There were 3 married couples, this crazy scary woman (I will get back to her) and myself. First, Phillipe tries to make me scoot over on this little chair so one of the married men can have room to sit. I awkwardly move, but then I see the wife shooting some dirty ass looks and I scoot back to the middle where I was. So, off to a good start already. Now, almost everyone spoke a little English, so everyone gave a try at talking to me. This crazy scary woman tried to give me a "French lesson," (she wasn't fond of me not being able to hold a French conversation), however, this "lesson" was me trying to make sense of her terrible English through her drunken slurs and thick accent. I was totally pissing her off that I couldn't make sense of what the hell she was trying to say. Someone else was nice enough to clarify after I sat with a blank stare for about ten minutes. I just wanted her to stop talking and let me sit with my glass of champagne. I found her to be crazy scary because first, she seemed angry at me all the time, second, she stared at me WAY too much and most importantly, she looked straight out of "Hocus Pocus." Her shoulder length gray hair was all over the place and her nose looked like something I could have picked up at a costume store. Oh yes, and the cat of the house loved her and sat in her lap most of the night...too bad it wasn't a black cat. I just chugged my champagne and tried to zone out for awhile and pictured this lady with a broom and black pointy hat. Then, dinner time. Somehow I ended up at the guys end of the table, which worked out well for me. The men were way less critical of my lack of knowledge of the French language. They appreciated my love of drinking, played me "Hotel California," talked about riding motorcycles down the coast and gave me their best American impersonations. John Wayne, Clint Eastwood and Harrison Ford were all referenced. The French definitely think we sound like some inbred, redneck truckers. It was entertaining at least. As two o'clock rolled around, I had nearly fallen asleep on the table a good ten times. Along with the combination of champagne, white wine and red wine, the wine coma was setting in, yet again. It takes a surprisingly large amount of effort to seem entertained by a conversation almost entirely in a foreign language. I think everyone noticed that I was slowly passing out on my plate so we called it a night. I hope I didn't make too terrible of a first impression, ugh.

Exactly how I looked

PS - Please note the new Mr. T quotes to the right. There will be a new one every day! There is also a monkey at the bottom to give you things to ponder.

"You Go 1, 2, 3 and 4...It's Easy."

Fingers crossed this doesn't happen

I made this my title because these were my only instructions for driving a manual car for the first time ever. Oh, and by myself in France, where I don't understand street signs and don't really know where to go on the windy one-car roads full of potholes. The look I gave Brigitte after she, "told me how to drive the car," must have been a look of pure terror. But, I said okay, grabbed my international drivers license, (which I got by showing my US drivers license, nothing more) and was headed to try my French out in the bakery. After it took me a solid few minutes to start the car, I was shocked to be moving and went with it. I never got out of second gear though, too scared for my life. I just waved everyone around me and ignored the dirty looks. Hopefully they thought I was a French teenager or something and not a twenty-something dumb American that can't drive a car. The sweating came on when I realized I was coming to a stop sign...and.....I killed it. In the intersection. During country "rush hour." I just didn't look up and tried not to listen to anyone yelling and put my concentration on starting my tin can back up. With a solid jerk, I was back on the road and had managed to keep my pants dry. On the way back, just my luck, some over-sized wood hauling truck is coming down the hill and taking up the entire road. I wait and wait for it to reverse allllll the way back up the hill since I don't know short cuts and I just keep on killing the damn Peugeot every inch I tried to crawl forward. If that car wasn't ready for a new clutch by now, it will be in the next couple days. 

A solid investment for my time out here

This was yesterday and yet again today, Brigitte needed her cigs and some petrol, so out I go again, ugh. Poor Brigitte had to see my attempt at reversing around the repair truck in the driveway. After she saw that I was going nowhere fast, she reversed it for me and still wanted me to get in and drive. If I were her, I would have punched me in the face and told me not to come in 10 feet of the car, but we handle things differently. I watched a few youtube videos on driving a manual today and hopefully that will suffice for my manual driving lesson. Oy Vey! I need a bottle of wine and a nap after all this.