This Week

It appears that my updating-every-moment stint is over, as was inevitable.

GOD this was the longest week of my life. I suppose counting down the days until I leave for Clovis's house didn't help, but still! Lordy.

Oh, and it turned out to be 79€ ... not 77. That's 2€ more fun I want to experience ...

Anyhow, this weekend was quite orhegerqngvud, which, in Exasperated-Typing-on-the keyboardrd language means it was rather blah. That is ... until Friday.

I was innocently leaving the foyer at school (it's a room where bored students hang out during free hours and récréation) when a girl in my class named Janique told me that there was someone who wanted to see me. She pointed to a point behind me and I turned ... there was a table with fifteen, twenty people surrounding it, regarding me with an uncanny eagerness in their eyes ... can't wait to interrogate the American!!

And interrogate, they did. I was asked about everything under the sun: where do I come from? What's my favorite music? Do I prefer France or America? Do I like George Bush (hah!)? Do I have a boyfriend? Have I ever been to California? Have I ever been to New York? Have I head or 50 Cent/Eminem/whomever--usually a rap artist? Are American boys (as they put) "more beautiful" than French boys? Who has the best accent when speaking English? What do I want to do after school? When am I leaving? Will I ever come back? etc, etc, etc ...

At some point, the questioning was taken over by a girl and some guy with her (her boyfriend, I presume), who said it was their "dream to live in America!" ... Although, she said New York City and he said Los Angeles. She was patiently asking me questions for a while, with his backup and all of a sudden, I looked around and ... there must have been fifty people surrounding the table listening to what we were saying. It was absolutely crazy. Even though it was mostly those two (I remember no one's name, seeing as I met so many people!) asking me direct questions, other question were in a constant flow from all directions around me.

Eventually, though, the hour ended and most of those people had class. One boy dragged me off to his English class where the teacher spent most of the class time asking me questiaboutabot why I was in France. She ended up concluding that she was very flattered I had taken such an interest in French and she said I was welcome in that class anytime.

After that hour I still had one more before my last class (Fridays are so stupid when I have to go to French aid) so I went to the salle de permanance, where people work ... or "work." I really had nothing to do so I opened my journal and started an entry. It hadn't been two minutes before Nasser, a boy in my class (in France they have the same people in virtually every class) came in and started talking to me. After then, whenever someone entered the room he would say to them, "Hey, this is Leah. She's American," and soon there was a small group of people surrounding me again.

That was broken up shortly by The One Guy Who Always Is In A Bad Mood Or Something when he came into the room and informed us that it is a room for work and we weren't working ... so he kicked most of them out.

It didn't last long, though. Soon, people came back including one guy who spent some time in England for something ... don't remember why. And another guy who I had seen before and he stuck out in my memory for some reason.

I found out during this time that a lot of French people my age prefer American accents (ie: my accent) to the Oxford British ones of the professors. That's right, they like the horrid nasally vowels! Go figure.

That's all for now. I have several projects to do this weekend (Project: Clean My Bedroom Including the Bathroom, Project: Organize All My School Junk, and Operation: Plan What Clothes to Bring to Clovis's House So I Know What to Wash).

As you can see, I am frightfully busy.

Love always,
Leah
(Léa)

Weekend Update (with Tina Fey ... yeah, I'm lame)

Thought all y'all might like to know that I am spending the weekend away from the Petiots. They're driving me insane so I hitched a ride to Paris and I'm staying in a youth hostel until it calms down over there.

ONLY KIDDING! Rotary people, I would do nothing of the sort.

Really, though, the Petiots are in Pologne and I am not. I am staying at Didier's sister's house. And ... voilà.

Exciting, no?

I have figured out my least favorite French word: obligatoire. As you can probably guess, it means obligatory/required. It bothers me for no rational reason except maybe because it's always used in a negative way ... but that can't be it because "interdit" (forbidden) doesn't bother me. I don't know. Maybe I'm weird.

Hey people, if yo comment on my blog I'd like it. When I don't update it's all "LEAH!!! UPDATE YOUR BLOG FOR GOD'S SAKE!!!!" ... but now that I am ...

Oh! Here's some exciting news that I'll ... yeah, I'll tell the Rotary next Tuesday when I sent Chris and Lisa (con't you worry your heads about who they are) my mostly-weekly update.

In twelve days I am going to take a train (77€!!!!) to Champagnol and guess who I'm going to see? Go on, guess! Guess!!!!

That's right. Clovis.

I am so excited. You can't possibly understand. I won't even bother trying to explain it because it is beyond any coherent language recognized by man.

Umm ... that's it. Drop me a line and maybe I won't keep you in the dark. Love to everyone.

Leah
(Léa)

Watch out Peter Cottontail ...

Guess what I ate today?

I'll give you a few clues:

-It hops
-It has long floppy ears
-It gives you chocolate and candy on Easter

That's right.

I stared at it for about ten years before gingerly cutting a bit off and tasting it and tried not to think to hard on dear Beatrix Potter.

And.

It was delicious.

From now on, I will eat nothing but rabbit.

Love,
"Léa"

A New Spin on the "Princess"

Ohhhh man!

Remember, Darlands, this past summer at Papa's birthday when we went kayaking? Remember how I passed the time sitting in the middle of Dad and Rozanne's canoe, doing ... nothing? Remember how you made fun of me like it was going out of style?

Ohhhh man!

Am I EVER glad I didn't go kayaking because then I wouldn't have the privilige (quite sure that's spelled wrong) to toss my hair casually and say:

The first time I ever went kayaking was on the River Seine (maybe the Marne ... don't remember) allllll alone.

That's right, kids. Today the Petiot family (minus the grandpappy ... gee, darn) was over for lunch and before he left, Pierre asked if I wanted to go to the river and try out his kayak.

Hee.

As they say, my friends, the rest is history.

"I don't believe that this was your first time," Pierre said.

"It is," I insisted.

He turned to his dad, Serge (NICEST guy in the history of the world ... next to Emmanuel--remember him?), and switched to French, saying that I had looked so confident when I had been out there

all alone

kayaking

for the first time

in a big French river.

Actually, I was very wet. Pierre said I would "probably get a little wet" but I called him a liar when I got out of the kayak, my jeans and the left sleeve of my coat saturated with water.

M'kay, that's all of today's news. A plus.

Leah

J'ai mal encore!

Okay, people. This time it wasn't three lousy little laps. It was TWELVE, okay? Twelve laps around that track thing, the whole time wishing I had a blunt object or something ... not that I'd attack a teacher. I wanted to kill myself.

True, they were not consecutive bangbangbang one right after the other. We had a break. Yes A break. As in ONE.

Devil woman!

At one point I was seriously considering pretending to have hurt myself to escape the hell I had somehow fallen from France into. Fortunately, it didn't some to that because soon enough the old ankles flared up again and I have been once again crippled. I walk on flat feet at a speed of about a quarter mile an hour, at best.

Good news, though, I got my Carte Imagine R, which is a prepaid card of sorts for all public transportation, which means no more dealing with half-witted RER train ladies who sell me tickets to Paris (a euro more expensive than what I need) because that's undoubtedly the only place I would need to go. Also, no more stealing transportation. That has always been a novel thing to me. Get on the bus ... sit down ... steal a ride home.

Not that I've done that. I'm a good person. I pay my way ... almost all the time (wink).

That's all, folks.

Catch you later.

Leah

Just a short one--exciting stuff below

Few things I forgot to add last night:

I'm trying to figure out if there's a way to reply to comments. Does anyone know how?

I feel I should also remind you that I only have two hours of school today.

And also that I have my own shower.

And I'm in France.

In new news, I think it's necessary to add something to my sport experience. When we were running laps, about three-quarters through my second one, I had a vision of the PE teacher in Ferris Bueler riding beside the running guys on his little golf cart or something, saying "You'll never get out! Never!"

That's it.

Remember, more exciting stuff is below.

L

An update on recent events ... so soon. You're lucky.

Well. I suppose I should get in gear and tell you about last weekend.

Friday night we went to a Rotarian's house for dinner. Nadine and her husband ... Jean-Paul, maybe? Let's just call him that. Guite was there too (for those of you with poor memories, Guite is the former president of the Rotary Club, my future host (grand?)mother, and the person I stayed with when I first got to France). With her she had Sayaka, an former exchange student from Japan who has been living with her for September ... which is now over ... hmm ...

Anyhow. So, we got there and after all the French kissy dealies were exchaged, we immediately sat down to appetizers (including the most delicious olives I've ever tasted) and ... champagne.

I have nothing against champagne. I love it, in fact. It's delicious. It was only slightly formidable because Jean-Paule handed me the bottle and (get this) a foot-and-a-half long sabre and asked me to open it.

Naturally, I was terrified.

Shut up! You've never been handed a sabre before!

He took me outside and showed me exactly what to do and how to hold the bottle but I didn't have too good of a grip because of my nails and I was worried I would drop the bottle and get stabbed with shards of glass and (worse) invoke the anger/disappointment of my hosts.

I bet you think this ended in tragedy, right?

How cynical of you! I'll have you know, that I ran the sabre along the bottle just as Jean-Paul showed me and the top came off easily (and apparently, very nicely ... he complimented me on the clean cut I made) and I now have a severed head of a champagne bottle as a souvenir of my trip to France!

I was invited to go out with Sayaka and Nadine and Jean-Paul's daughter, Stéphanie, that night and I wanted to as well. However, I didn't because I had ... oh shut up ... school the following morning and even though Victoria said it was okay and even encouraed me to go ... I didn't. Because I'm all "responsible," I guess. Jeez.

As anyone could have guessed, even though I didn't go out the previous night, I was tired the next morning for my four hours of Saturday school (I said to shut up!!!!!) because we didn't get home until after midnight.

I don't remember much of that morning.

But that evening we went to Pierre's house.

Again. For those of you who can't remember even the most important characters in this saga, this Pierre=motorbike guy. If you don't remember The Motorbike ... shame on you!

It was funny, actually. There were two shifts of the little get-together at Pierre's house (which he just moved into ... I think with a friend or something, I'm a bit hazy on the details). The first was the Family Shift where we had nice glasses of wine and a cute dinner thing with French sausage and the like. Then the family left. I stayed because I wanted to and was given the option. The family left (minus, you know, the Pierre-aged family: Sacha, a few other cousins) and the Friend Shift began with music and German beer (which I did not like) and people were smoking and all that jazz.

To answer your questions: no I did not smoke. No I did not get drunk. Thanks for your faith.

Hah, who's cynical now, right?

But I had fun, actually. Even through the haze of cigarette/other smoke, I was able to have a few good French conversations and the like. The worst part (besides the smoke) was the bad German beer. I think I'm more of a wine person.

As a matter of fact, people, as I told my father yesterday or something, the times I have had the most to drink were the times I was with the Rotary Club. No joke. Swear to God.

Sunday was a not-so-good day.

Want to hear a secret that is going to xause me to not give this address to anyone in France (you are sworn to secrecy, Victor): there is a member of this family, who I do not like at all ... I mean besides the annoying, smelly dog.

I have a big problem with Victoria's father. He makes me increibly uncomfortable and I don't like to be around him. Muckily, I see him once a week at the most, but when he's here I am very eager for him to leave.

At first when I met him, he was friendly and we spoke only about learning languages and stuff (he's from Russia, and speaks at least three languages, I think more). But then he asked how old I was and started telling me without cease how I need to get married soon.

And I hate it. I wouldn't hate it so much, though, if it weren't in such a demeaning way! He asked me what I want to do after I finish school and when I told him I want to be a teacher, he lamented that I wouldn't be able to find a proper husband that way. He said it's ridiculous that I have my nose piecred because it will look unattractive to men. When I got unhappy and annoyed he asked what was wrong and said I might be happier with a boyfriend!

I do NOT like this man!

Enough of my rant, though. Just had to get that in the open.

Today was lovely because I had two hours of French class and the prof wasn't here! In France they don't have substitute teachers ...

I also had two-and-a-half hours for lunch because I had a free period right before my regular lunch time. So I walked in the direction of Guite's house and made the decision to NOT go back to school for lunch because ... I didn't want to. Instead, I went to a market and bought two apples and some chocolate and had my lunch on a park bench, reading Trinity, which I adore!

Beh, you're up to date now. I had an inordinate amount of time on the computer today. Usually it's a fight to the death for me to use this thing, because either Alice or Douglas are almost constantly on it and when it's free I have to grab it up really quickly.

Tomorrow I have two hours of class; I will likely spend more time on the commute to and from school than I will in class. Not only that, but my first class is English! Oh ... trop difficile!

Are you impressed by my mad French skills? I have to be careful now because there's a French person reading my blog now. Don't judge harshly, fake-brother. If you're nice maybe I won't make fun of your Texan accent to hard if and when I meet you.

Well, I'm off. I have a feeling this blog entry wasn't quite up to par with the others, but what'll you do?

One last note before I go. You know what I was doing before I wrote this blog? Researching universities in Ireland. Not even home and I'm thinking of leaving again. Do you happen to know of any, Voctor? Perhaps with an emphasis on language studies?

I'm horrible at researching.

Cheers!
Leah