So here I sit, back in the ole U S of A and I haven't blogged in forever. I'll update on my triumphant return back to the states later, I still have to write allllll about Italy and Spain...a month late.

So School was still in session and I didn't care and I decided to buy myself a ticket to Italy and do a tour of the north. What a fantastic idea. I started off by heading over to a town called Torino...well scratch that, I started off by heading to Milan to meet my girlfriend Caroline, however she had a rehearsal scheduled at the last minute so I ended up heading over to Torino to find her instead. I landed in Milan, met myself a nice frenchie on the plane who put me on the bus to the center of town, (this is after I'd already ridden a train and two metros and taken a plane just to get to Milan...I seriously feel as though I deserve a medal for extreme traveling) and I wound up at the central train station in Milano, bought myself a ticket, the nastiest sandwich from a vending machine you've ever had and hopped aboard the train to Torino. The train system in Italy, blows, just so you know. I've never missed French travel so much in my life. Arrived in Torino and took a minute to digest my surroundings, very different architecture, very industrial, and pretty dirty. As much as the French love round a bouts, the Italians love Piazza's more. Caroline and I wandered around until we found the BEST gilatto there ever was (a place called Grom) and I was thoroughly pleased with myself when i could order it in italian. found ourselves a piazza with a lovely man playing the harp and sat as the sun set licking our melting cones.

The next day caro had to head to class, so i headed out for a sightseeing tour/run along the river Po. sometimes i get so caught up in whatever it is i'm doing that i forget where i am and what i'm doing, and how incredible this adventure all is. but that day was one of those amazing moments of clarity as you're running along cobblestone streets of the medieval city they've reconstructed to look like ancient torino, and it just happens to sit on the river where people are boating and rowing (old school sport practiced by pretty much everyone there) and the sun is shining on your face while you're listening to your ipod, and you look over and think to yourself, holy shit, i'm actually going for a run on a river in italy, man life is sweet:) i found that italy for some reason, was full of moments like that for me.

met up with caro later and headed out for some drinks and apperitivo at a local bar i stumbled on earlier with a barman who spoke broken french and gave me lots of free good wine so i promised i'd come back later, and with more girls:) so we did, and ate ourselves silly. i love the italian tradition of apperitivo, 5 euros for a glass of wine and you get to partake of the all you can eat buffet food samplings they've got. i've never eaten so well, or so cheaply in all of europe. needless to say we had lots of fun along side the river at the bar, which had seats in the form of like, greek benches, complete with pads for laying on, i felt very lady godiva like as i lounged in my long black dress eating cherries and drinking my fabulous red wine on a cushion...all i needed was someone fanning me with a giant leaf and my fantasy was complete.

The last day I had with caroline, she and her friend meredith and i went down to the coffee house, where they make lattes with designs in them...the barista spelled out "welcome to torino" on our three glasses for us with the foam from the milk, that folks, is talent. then we headed off to the local wine shop, where, if you bring your own bottles, they fill them up with wine, it's like a wine pump, for a euro fifty a bottle...excellent. headed over to the park and got some paninos (fancy word for sandwich) and spent the afternoon lounging in the sun by the river drinking chilled white:) i eventually had to get up and go find a bathroom and found one in the old medieval city (side note: finding a bathroom that's free in europe is always a bit of a challenge, and the free ones are usually just holes in the ground with two foot holes...gives a whole new meaning to the "hover pee" ladies). Finally found myself a bathroom, but the italians, and i didn't really think this was possible, are even WORSE at forming lines than the french. I have never seen so many people cut line in my life, to the point where i put my arm up on the door as i approached it to prevent someone from cutting in front of me, and a little old lady just freaking walked right under it. at that point i was pissed and started yelling in french at the old lady (why french you ask, i have no idea) and walked in and took the stall she was about to go into....she mumbled something in italian about "les franceses" and it made me giggle...to think i'd one upped her, and she thought i was french all at the same time. love it.

After I left Torino I went back to Milano to stay with my friend Becka (actually a friend of a friend, but that's how it works in europe, all you really have to do is buy someone a beer and then you're pretty much welcome to come stay at their house). Anyway, bex is in school at FIT in Milan, she's about 5'1'' maybe, and 90 pounds soaking wet. needless to say the two of us walking side by side definitely drew some stares. Milano again, not too mussed with, I did a lot of sightseeing (since bex was in school most days), the highlight of which was of course going to La Scala and having to stealthfully take pictures of the theater since the camera nazis were in full force. I also wandered up to see Verdi's grave and tried woefully to get into the last supper fresco, but you had to have made a reservation and bought tickets in advance, so i was out of luck. also i was not allowed in the Duomo either because i had on a tank top, i really felt like Milano was just sticking it to me.

The next day however, bex and I headed down to Cinque Terre, some of the most beautiful countryside you will ever see on gods green earth. Cinque is 5 fishing villages located on the west side of italy that are all connected by hiking trails, cars can go between, but the trails are actually on the cliffside of the Mediterranean, so close you can taste the salt. all in all it's about 7 miles to hike all five of the villages, which of course we did, stopping for gilatto in each one of the towns (and a gatorade too, mother of god it was hot). but i have never felt so connected to, whatever word it is we give to that feeling of being truly 100 percent alive and connected to the universe. i just can't even do the beauty justice, check out the pictures on facebook, i entitled the album "i am fueled by sugar and sunshine" (due to gilatto infusions helping us throughout the day). As we finally arrived at the end of the trail at this point i realized i did NOT want to go back up to Milano for the night (bex had to leave since she had class the next day), so after we gorged ourselves on a fabulous seafood dinner (shrimp risotto for me) and a bottle of Spumante (Italian sparkling white) i set out to find a room for the night and bex set off back to Milano. I don't know how to even explain all the feelings i was having that day as i was there, such an amazing overwhelming awareness of self satisfaction and self worth, i finally came to terms with who i was, right there, that day. for some reason, he act of just doing it, the schlep, the wandering around town alone, finding a room, making a snap decision to stay someplace alone and just doing it, i don't know why, but it just made me feel so good.

to top it all off, there was an added bonus to Cinque, that my roommate for the night in the hostel basically turned out to be my australian doppleganger. one of those people you just immediately click with and feel connected to, like you've known each other forever. we woke up the next morning and our relationship started with..."well sarah, i was going to go down and take a dip in he mediterranean before heading off to hike, do you want to come?" My response, "um, yea." Kindof a no brainer there. So Ness and I headed down to the ocean, which was FREEZING and waded in, all the while i was screaming "i'm making a memory, i'm making a memory" (also i really needed a shower too, since i'd literally come with nothing the day before). Then she and I decided to head off on one of the different hikes that we hadn't done yet, so we loaded up with tons of FOCCACIA (this region is known especially for that and their pesto) tarts and water and began our hike. The 2 miles turned into about 5 hours, since we got lost...but it was a glorious day, spent with a glorious person who happened to be on the same soul searching journey that i was on...i just felt so on fire for life, its just so amazing to me, what a revelation, you can have whatever you want, all you have to do is go for it...and when you decide to do it, the things that come along with it, you never could have imagined, nor would have known to want for. It was that day that i decided the word Agape would go in the middle of my new tattoo...meaning unconditional love.

Ness and i ended our hike by running (and screaming) into the ocean, then heading to the local foccacia shop where you can choose between 15 different kinds, they slice it and bring it to you heated, gorged ourselves again for the second time that day, hugged goodbye, promised to see each other next month (which we did, since Ness came through Tours at the end of her trip) and I went back up to Milano for the night. Hopped a train the next morning and headed to Bologna (are you tired yet...I am just remembering all this). So in bologna i met up with my friend Jen from grad school. Jen, another one of my favorite human beings, and i became really fast friends and bonded over our shared love of europe and the fact that i was seemingly living the same life she had already had, only 5 years later, and in france instead of italy:) Bolonga was where jen lived off and on for 3 years before she headed back over to the states to start her doctorate (where we met). Anyway, such a surreal moment getting off the train and running screaming and giggling to see that Jen was waiting for me in the Bologna train station!! Amazing. So. Happy. Jen and I had the BEST time knocking around bologna and introducing ourselves to our "euro versions" (as you know you're always yourself, but just a different version of it when you live in a foreign country and speak a different language, IE, there is French sarah, and American Sarah:) So Jen and I stayed with her friend Paola, who only speak Italian and French, I only speak French and English, and Jen only speaks English and Italian....there were ALARMING amounts of language flying around that place all weekend.

Found ourselves out for dinner at some random resto in the middle of bologna singing karaoke later that night with jen and paola and elena (a friend jen brought back to the states with her who ended up doing her bachelor's in jen's hometown and now speaks fluent english, only with a southern accent, hilarious to hear her speak beautiful beautiful italian, and then switch to a hard on southern drawlin' english). The next day jen and i hopped the train down to Florence, which was possibly even more breathtaking...no, you know, i can't even weigh it against anything, each place had it's own specialness to me for so many different reasons. Florence was beautiful for the day I got to spend with my old friend, talking about her life and mine, life, love, dreams, spirituality, seeing the top of the city, the ponte vecchio, celebrating life and dropping over 100 euros on a lunch that we had in the main piazza while a medieval costume parade marched by. You know those friends that you just will take and keep forever, yea I got the pleasure of sharing one of the most open and beautiful feeling moments of my life with her. just. fabulous.

we got back from the majesty that was florence only to have paola pack us into the car and drive us an hour and a half to the beach, where we partied all night on a rooftop and jen and i tore up the dance floor...especially when michael jackson came on (i squealed, just a little). The next day we recovered and that night jen put a tearful me onto the overnight train and waved goodbye (wow i almost get misty even remembering it now). the overnight train, blew, because by the time i got to my cabin i was the last one there, all the bags were shoved under my bottom bunk, making it slant into the wall, and everyone had shanghaied my pillows and blankets for the night. not to mention there was the loudest smelliest snoring man right across from me staring at me. ew. eventually i deliriously made it back to france and stumbled into my bed and slept for probably two days straight.

italy was definitely one of the most soul changing parts of this experience so far, i feel like it was a real cornerstone on the map of moving into being sarah the woman instead of sarah the young girl.

i love you, i miss you


Sarah

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Wow, ok hold on, buckle up because this one is going to be a long one. When I Last left you I think it was over a month ago before I was heading to mexico, so since then I’ve had a long stint of travel, mexico, Belgium, and all around the north of Italy with girlfriends. So deep breath, here we go. ..

MEXICO:

Ok, so when I was home for my spring break (april…wow that feels like a long time ago) I visited with several of my best friends in NYC one of whom I’ve known since my college days. I got invited to go with his family (as in him, me, his mom, her new husband, his four kids, their four significant others, and grandparents…14 in toto) to cabo san lucas. So I said, what the hell, dropped way too much on a plane ticket and saddled up for a 39 hour voyage over the atlantic to the pacific side of mexico for a week of sun, sand and swim up bars. The trip over (39 hours, and I’m not kidding) was more than eventful. I was supposed to go via Dallas and have a wicked long layover there, which was good so I could see Graham for the first time in about 9 months…but bummer for me, it was raining in dallas, so I got to spend the night in the boston logan airport on the OTHER side of security, since I had to guard my checked bag full of wine (for Ollie’s mom..not me, I promise). Luckily I found myself a nice bar and went inside, promptly ordered an IPA on draft and started pretending to be interested in the Stanley cup finals. Not ten minutes later I had made myself a friend (are you shocked?) who was a nice older man named…well I forget his name for the moment, but needless to say he was a pilot staying the night in boston before deadheading back to Cali the next day. We chatted and when that bar closed he suggested (very innocently) that I come to the bar in the bottom of the Hilton (where he was staying) and get another drink…so I did. Anyway, long story short, he asked me later on if I wanted to “share his room with him” since he had the extra bed and all and I politely refused and wished him well thinking I’d never see him again…WRONG. The next morning I was flying rerouted through chi town, as the pilot knew because he was as well but on a later flight…or so I thought. 6.30 am after having slept for maybe an hour on the airport floor on top of my hiking backpack like a hobo, and taking a bathroom sink shower (I didn’t want to be too narley when I got into cabo) my pilot had changed his flight, showed up to my gate and brought me a coffee and starbucks scone for breakfast…can we say creepy??? When we arrived in chi town he followed me all the way to my cabo gate and then gave me his card and mentioned something about “infectious people” and how I was one of them and would I please email him when I got to cabo. I of course did not, and resisted the urge to give his business card to Ollie in cabo so he could send him a message or two. Ha.

So finally made it to cabo, where may I say, the people know how to hustle, you never know who to believe when you’re there or who is trying to just sell you something. 39 delirious hours later I stumbled into the airport and started searching for my party (however only really knowing Ollie and his mom…who I haven’t seen since I was 21 by the way) I couldn’t find anyone. Finally kim (oll’s mom) found me wandering like a lost child and we went to find olls who was wandering like a lost child at the other terminal (although he was wandering right…with a beer in each handJ). We crammed ourselves into the two tiniest rental cars there ever were, started blaring Mexican pop from one of the three raido stations and made it all the way to our resort. Our house, yes house, on said resort, had a hot tub on the balcony and golf carts to take you all over the place because it was just that big. I was literally in heaven, add in the swim up bar, greatest fish tacos known to man and a deserted beach (because the waves were so big it was illegal to swim) and I was about 1000 miles over the moon . I spent the week doing everything you could do, including being the only girl out of all the family who went ATV riding on the beach with the boys (where Olls of course went flying off of his atv and sprained his thumb)…I thought it was funny that while all the other girls had a spa day, I went and got dirty (I know this shocks you mommy). Kayaking on the ocean, jet skiing on the ocean, atvs, deep sea fishing (where I promptly got sick and was the first of three to lose it on the boat) and a sunset dinner cruise (I got to drive the freaking catamaran…seriously, and after several tequila shots) made for one of the most relaxing days ever. The deep sea fishing was fun at the beginning though because there was a great big bow off the front of the boat that you could hold onto and have yourself a little titanic moment, which of course, I did. However when I was sunning myself on the deck later on and the captain thought it would be funny to drive into a wave and drench me on the front of the boat, my feelings of sexiness definitely took a shot as I became more of a freezing drowned rat on the front of the boat rather than kate winslet. Oh well.

The week was absolutely amazing, we had a great time hanging out together, cooking big giant family meals and drinking waaaay too many margaritas. I think my liver is going to need a break after this month of travel is finally over. I did try and go for a run on the beach one morning, misktake, and then tried to run the length of our long drive way up to the resort (about two miles one way) but the heat got the better of me and that was some of the last running I’ve done in recent weeks. Highlight of my week was when I illegally climbed the giant rocks on the beach and spent the afternoon singing into the surf at full volume because no one was around to hear me, nor could they over the crash of the waves. I had a few more titanic moments all to myselfJ

I bid my farewells to the Tandy clan and made my way back across the ocean (stopping in dallas this time for a layover and having some texas bbq…made my day) and then met up with Jen and Jon in paris and headed to Belgium. Jen and Jon are two friends that I made when I was hiking across the USA two summers ago with Graham on the green tortoise trip. She lives in Jersey, he lives in Belgium and two years later they are still making it work. Amazing. Anyway, I went to find them and we took on paris by storm and ate and drank ourselves silly the first night. As we were sitting on the patio out front of hour hotel we met a nice frechman who decided to chat us up about the US government, and at that point I decided it was time to go to bed. However, we had to be sneaky sneaky since they had only paid for a room for two people. So I decided to go up first and take the key so it looked like I was supposed to be staying there…since they basically gate check you at the door and come running out to make sure you’re not brining anyone illegal into the hotel. I got up to the room and was a little nervous that they wouldn’t have the key to get in and the doorman would give them hell, so being the resourceful woman that I am, I called jon on his phone and told him to come to the courtyard…I jimmyrigged the key (since it was a little plastic one with holes in it…old school paris hotels) to a bracelet of mine and literally romeo and julietted it down to him from our third story room. I decided it would be a good idea to sleep where I wasn’t visible…just in case there was a problem and the doorman came up with them. So I wedged myself between the tiny crevice of the bed and the wall and promptly passed out. Being as tired and jet lagged as I was I don’t even remember them coming to the room and freaking out because they couldn’t see me and had feared that I went out the open window they saw. Fortunately, and not to my recollection, I popped up from between the bed and the wall space (a space so small it seems impossible that a person my size could squeeze in there) and said no no, I’m here! Scared the crap out of both of them, and went back to sleep on the hard concrete floor and slept until the following morning. Wow.

We left to head back to Belgium and jon’s house the next day, where jen and jon and I spent the next few days gorging ourselves on the greatest french-fries known to man and the greatest beer as well. I have never had so much trappist in my life, and it was glorious. Jen and I took off for a day and headed to brugge to sight see since jon was working everyday. We found ourselves the French fry museum, ate chocolate, had waffles in the Verdi café while Verdi blared over the speakers (I was very pleased that I could recognize Alcina as it played above) and took all manner of ridiculous pictures that you can imagine. I bid fare the well to jen and jon and headed back to tours for a week of fun and catching up with friends (who were all pissed that iw as so glowingly tanned after my stint in mexico). I decided that weekend to take off to my best friend Marcia’s fiancées house to help make her up for her engagement pictures. I must say, I am going to need to start practicing for Marcia’s wedding next summer (which I am a bridesmaid in…and fearfully am the only one of the 6 american bridesmaids who speaks French…that will be an interesting post for sure). Because Sunday at the house in Bourges, for mothers day, I was shown up by every one in that family. French meals are something one must practice diligently for if you do not wish to die or have to retreat upstairs for an afternoon nap because you have consumed four bottles of wine and a bottle of champagne over the course of one meal, while keeping up with the massive amounts of French whizzing past your face at lightning fast speed. I deduced that after my weekend in Belgium and tequila soaked week in mexico I could totally keep up with the French. I was woefully, mistaken. Insert afternoon nap for sarah. I have to say the highlight of the weekend was when I first arrived and marcia’s sister in law was working on a costume for her friend’s bachelorette party (because in france they humiliate brides to be by dressing them in insane attire…such as a cow costume or rubber chicken suit, and parading them all over town). Marica’s sister in law however was in the process of making the largest orangina bottle costume I have ever seen. She however was not inside said large fabric bottle, her husband was, while she sewed it, and was yelling at him through it along with her mother in law because the face hole had yet to be cut into it. Enter sarah. Lovely French family home, large talking orangina bottle with no face on the living room table being sewn together while loud mother in law yells French from across the room…oh and tiny tiny dog runs around leaping from furnishing to furnishing wetting itself because it’s so excited about the new people that have come to visit. I am so excited for this wedding I can barely stand myselfJ

Alright, so that’s mexico, Belgium and a weekend in bourges wrapped up. Italy will be soon to follow I promise. I just don’t even have the energy nor the headspace to get started on that one yet. I need to marinate just a little bit longer on everything that happened to me over the last ten life changing days. I am still in bologna for the moment, but taking my first (and hopefully last) overnight train ride back to Tours where I will work for my last week at the university (YESSSSSSSSS) AND THEN head off to spain with mommy and daddy when they arrive next Monday. I can’t believe how much time has flown and that we’re already in the middle of JUNE???? When did that happen?

Alright, more to come later with pictures, after they’re uploaded, I promise.

I love you, I miss you,

Sarah

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Ok, coffee in hand, one of two papers done, back from the whirlwind that was the United States, freshly arrived after a much needed weekend of soul shattering laughter in Euro-Disney, prepping for a week of nothingness in Mexico, making plans for my next trip to Italy in search of old girlfriends after that...how is that for a life full. God I am feeling alive, and happy and contented and decadent as I bathe in the waters of self indulgence. Life has been very real for me lately, I have had lots of intense emotional trials, surprises, and awakenings. My trip to the US was my first touch down to my old self since I've been in France, and I have to admit, it was rather surprising to watch myself transform from French Sarah, and revert back into Sarah à l'américaine:) Not to say that I've made myself a different person, but it was so enlightening to look at my old self compared in harsh juxtaposition with the new self I've been molding myself into. There is no better way to figure out who you are then immersion in another culture that constantly demands of you, who are you? why are you here? why do you really do that? Is it because it's what you were taught, or because it's what you really think??? Believe me, questions I've been asking myself all along, but that I've found much easier to answer over the last few months.

The US was amazing for many reasons, but mostly for the grounding it gave back to me. I love the saying "no matter where you go, you will always be there." And I've never found that more true than in recent months. Living in France, adopting it's social norms, dating a foreigner from another country who I don't share a maternal language with; these things have opened my perception and sense of awareness to new heights. However, no matter how much I learn, accept and tap into the new, I will still always be, deep down, that country girl from Tennessee. The girl who thrives on the green of a spring day, driving down the road, windows down, blaring music, singing at the top of my lungs, mountains in the background, nothing but open space in front of me. Deep down, I will always be her, no mater how much nutella I eat, no matter how many countries I go to, no matter how many languages I speak. She will always be there, it feels good to have finally found her, and have a grounded idea of who she is. My family will always be my family, be them biological, or the people I've carried with me over the years. I will always love to laugh down to the core of my body until I can't see. I will always want to be open to everyone and everything, no matter how many times life may have disappointed me, or I didn't meet my expectations. I will always be the best version of me when I am finding a way to give of myself to other people. And I will always shine the most, as long as love is the center of my life, and the core of my universe.

I arrived back to France to some rather unpleasant times (relationship with said man from other culture now dissolved), but I managed my way through it, and in the process managed to sort through a lot of emotional baggage I didn't know I had. Managed to be stronger than I thought I could be, and managed to find my own two feet and put myself standing on them by myself without the aid or definition of another person for the first time in about two years. I've managed to learn how to separate my wants and needs from that of another persons, and I am, ever so slowly, learning how to define myself without the influence of anyone else. That feels good, that feels fresh and pretty raw, but it feels right. Realizing how much you were wanting to stay in a country for another person, and then realizing you're staying still after all things have ended is a bit of a reality check. But in retrospect it's all perception. Everything is just a matter of change we have to adapt ourselves to, a new idea that wasn't what we thought but we can learn to be ok with. I just finished writing my long term paper on the intercultural differences between France and the US...pretty interesting to write actually, but I really like the way that I ended it....

"Ce n’est que avec de grands efforts d’immersion qu’on peut gagner une vraie connaissance de la langue, et puis, une vrai connaissance de la culture de laquelle on vit. C’est dans cette attitude qu’il faudra rester pour chasser les barrières; parce que c’est ça que peut nous changer, si on a le courage d’essayer."

Which means...

"it's only with the most effort we can muster that we can gain a true understanding of language, and thus, a true understanding of the culture we find ourselves living in. Its in this attitude that we have to say to escape our own barriers; because it's exactly that which can change us, if we have the courage to try."

Today I find myself trying, sometimes noon is harder than 10pm, sometimes being alone is better than being surrounded by people. But today I find myself taking my time with life, making an effort to really feel what I'm feeling, bref, to really know what each emotion is that I'm feeling...embrace it, and then set it free. (God I feel like such a flowery writer today). I've been giving a lot of thought to writing a book about this actually. Even though I know it's been done a million times about a million different people in a million different places. Sometimes I feel like I just have so much to say, and no one to say it to, no one to share it with. Loneliness can grip any of us, you don't have to be alone to feel lonely...don't know why I wrote that, it's just what's coming from inside today. But like I said to my girlfriend the other day, feeling feelings is better than not, even if they are shitty ones. So here's to being alive, here's to chasing life and having an appetite for whatever comes next. I'm going to try to make this next bit better than the last.

I love you, I miss you,

Sarah

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Ok everybody here it comes....wait for it....I HAVE A JOB FOR NEXT YEAR!!!!!!!!!! I will be moving down south to the little town of Grenoble, France (right in the swiss alps) a pretty famous little ski town I think and I will be teaching english classes again as a Lectrice (lecturer) d'anglais. Life is good, I am so happy that I am leaving for the US in less than 1 hour and I will do it with the knowing satisfaction that I will be returning to the land I have come to love for over another year!! Life is grand if I do say so myself.

So I went down to my interview last week, 9 hours on a train later (my train was late by two hours that day because it was the day after the train strikes...but I least I knew it would be running, we're organized in this country, we know what days and times we're striking on...) I had 1.5 minutes to make my corresponding train exchange with the world's largest suitcase, I am not sure how I did it, but I managed! I still for the life of my can't understand how I managed with the worlds two largest suitcases ever when I first arrived.

My interview went swimmingly well, I was very pleased, I seemed to make a very good impression. Funny moment of the day however, was when I tried to put on my suit that I haven't worn in over a year (those of you who have been following me knkow I've turn into something of a runner) and I put on my pants without a belt, then they fell directly to the floor....a very good feeling, but very aggravating, I've spent money buying stock in belts this week, as that is the case with all of my clothing at the current state. I have my suitcase packed for home (I'm leaving TODAY TODAY) and more than half of it is the clothes I am taking home to be resized...I guess paying for resizing is better than buying a whole new wardrobe...maybe:)

I made a trip up to Paris lately to bump into one of my american buddies, Susan:) We had a lovely time doing all manner of touristic things and eating way to much food! Also on the strange happenstance, Susan arrived with two of her friends from texas, one of which happened to be one of my former students from Texas...and as if that wasn't weird enough, we took a "free tour" of Paris and ran into ANOTHER one of my students from texas...very very odd and surreal moment for me, ladies and gentlemen, the world, is not as big as you think...or maybe I just have too many friends on facebook....

After i finished in Grenoble last week I spent the weekend in Nice! Well I spent the first two days in Menton, about 30 minutes outside of Nice and then the next day and a half in Nice. It was STUNNING, see photos below, I'd forgotten how beautiful it was down south. Hopefully I will be relocating there for he summer and finding a job a some sort of server/bartender down there. We'll see how it all pans out. However, let me give a lesson to you, just because you're going to the south of France, does not mean it will be summery weather...March, is still March. Therefore, if you are dumb and think, oh Côte d'Azur I'm going to go swimming on the beach, and you take a swimsuit, t-shirts, and not a jacket, you will freeze your ass off all weekend; especially when riding on the back of a motorcycle on the interstate in capri pants...ok, that is all:)

alright, well I am OFF TO THE STATES today in a matter of minutes actually:) I will be running my first 10k race with Shani in NYC saturday morning, so think good thoughts for me as I know I will be jet lagged out of my mind...I hope I don't want to die halfway through. After NYC I'm heading down to ole TN for a mommy/daddy week! Please if you're in the area I'd love to see you slash have a beer slash catch up slash talk shit about France if you're in the mood;) The old 865.310.7272 number will be functional as of 9pm this evening so please, give me a call!!!

I love you, I miss you, I'll see you soon?:)

Sarah

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Here I find myself, 13th of March already...when did that happen? Life is running smoothly these days, I am starting to get responses back from all of the feelers (as in requests for work) that I have put out to over 25 universities here. I have a job interview next week! Do keep your fingers crossed for me, I am hoping that something will work itself out. I am slightly nervous for this job interview as it will be conducted half in french, half in english...that seems a little daunting. I've been trying to spend as much time in french as possible lately to get my ears in shape for said interview, I also have a coffee date with my bi-lingual friend charlotte who is going to prep me for the interview and help me practice my french skills. I find lately I can say whatever I want and be understood, but you always run into difficulty the first time you say something you've never had to say before in another language...after you've been forced to say it the first time, corrected, humiliated and walked home like a sad puppy with your tail between your legs, you teach yourself how to say it the right way, memorize it and never have trouble saying it again:) Sound fun? I'm over exaggerating really...but somedays are better than others. Anyway I'm trekking it way down south next week for said interview, spending the night before in town just in case there are any problems with my train, as the SNCF (that is the name of the french railway system) goes on strike the day before I need to be there...oh France.

Speaking of strikes, I enjoyed a nice long WALK to and from my place of employment this last wednesday due to bus strikes, which are now officially off thank god...2 miles to work and 2 miles back in the freezing ass cold is no fun. Equally not as fun, riding a motorcycle in said freezing cold...I long for spring, and cute dresses, and for the days of wearing double pants and undershirts to be behind me, it's like living in Indiana again, accept with fiercer wind, and no car:(

I'm starting to feel a lot better now that I've been getting responses to some of my employment requests, making me feel a lot better about next year and giving me some confidence. I look forward to actually having something nailed down so I can relax a bit and not worry that I find the end of the semester rapidly approaching. I am so looking forward to leaving for the US in two and half weeks, and spending 16 blissful days in my mother tongue. Nothing beats it, although I do secretly fear for the level of my French when I come back after said 16 blissful days of no french...I should probably bring some books with me...

My good friend Susan is arriving in France on Friday of this week, so I am looking forward to seeing my first american (not my first, but the first one of MY americans that I've seen since being on this side of the pond) since december. It's always so good when your "family" comes to visit, it's like they bring a little piece of you back. I've been spending a lot of time lately in self reflection (running 5 miles a day will do that for you) pondering the mysteries of life, the mysteries of sarah...blah blah and I'm finding myself all put back together for the first time in a long time. I've discovered that self confidence, that self assurance that only comes when you are feeling totally whole and at peace with yourself and the universe in general. Knowing that somehow, or feeling in someway that the universe has got your back, and everything is going to end up where it's supposed to, including you (geographically speaking). Even if I don't get to stay next year, it will all be ok...there are still many more adventures I need to seek out in. I know that the end is still far from sight, but me being me, I tend to pre-anticipate what will be my future (something I don't think I'll ever be able to let go of...no matter how much I practice living in the moment) and it is with such a touch of sadness that I will be leaving Tours; be it for another job or to go back to the states, this was the place that I put myself back together for the first time in my adult life...I think I've finally achieved moving past the "big girl" stage and have graduated to real "adulthood." As I watch all my other friends my age move on in their lives, have babies, get engaged, get married, even getting divorced, I look around and find myself wondering when it was that we all grew up? It's like mustard really...all my life I was a ketchup kind of girl, I wouldn't go near mustard, I hated it...wine could also be a good analogy here as well, but I already started with mustard...anyway, one day I woke up and decided to try the mustard and realized that I loved it...something had just changed. Anyway, what I'm trying to very inarticulatly say is though I think I'll always be a kid on the inside, I have really come to appreciate this new palate I have for all the tastes of life that have always been around but that I didn't have the good sense to be aware of. Adult life comes with a lot more worries/responsibilities/etc but with it also comes a deeper and more profound sense of awareness and appreciation for all that surrounds you and passes you by, that you had not the time in your earlier years to stop and appreciate. So today as I sit here with my third cup of coffee writing to all of you, I raise my glass to all of you, each in your own walk somewhere; and I encourage you to just stop long enough each day to take it all in, and appreciate yourselves for everything that you've done that you never stopped to realize are the bits that make you incredible. Here's to you, and to me. Vivez vos propres rêves! (Live your dreams)

I love you, I miss you.

Sarah

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So another month later here comes my latest installment with some words of advice...steak in france, is no bueno:( I've been sick for the latter part of last night and the majority of this morning because of a poor choice at a poor restaurant (I let my frenzy for the fact that the university was paying for my meal overrule my good sense that steak from a less than par restaurant is never a good idea), my theory only to be proved by the house of stabbing pain in my stomach interrupting my enjoyment of what should have been an evening of beer and rugby with anglophone buddies. Sigh. Oh well, at least I can update you with the last months worth of the latest adventures in Sarah land:)

I can't believe that we're already half way through the second semester, I can't believe I have been here for over six months...it really does seem like just yesterday that I was tearfully getting on a plane and wondering what the hell I had chosen for myself while I stood in line at the grocery store having to pay for bags to carry my assortment of strange french goodies home for the first time. I can't believe everything that I have learned, I can't believe how much I have changed already...and finally on the list of can't believes, is that I can't believe how much I don't want it to be over. Two weeks ago was our mid-winter vacation, and instead of traveling I spent the latter part of this week compiling over 25 dossiers (that's french for resumes, cover letters and letters of recommendation) to send off to every corner of France to every university I could think of so I can buy myself at least another year here. Being past the halfway point now has put a different spin on my perspective and has definitely made me realize that I want more of whatever it is (can't exactly put my finger on it yet) that France has given me. Granted there still are a lot of days when I have my mute clown moments (when I feel like a mime in makeup waving my hands frantically around in the air because no one can understand me and I've had to resort to gestures and grunts to get what I need) but then there are days like last Friday, when I pop into the mobile shop to change my plan and end up being a make-shift translator for a couple who speak no french and only english (granted I was slightly judgmental of the fact that they had been here for over a year and still needed a translator, but I let it go and decided to help them out and exercise my brain a little)...I have to say I was pretty impressed with myself and had some nice feelings of satisfaction that lasted almost the rest of the afternoon until I tried to order a full pint of been and ended up with a demi pint because either my accent sucks or I didn't understand something the bar tender had said to me...either way, feelings of self satisfaction gone...

I find myself having all kinds of awkward yet unique experiences here almost everyday. Sometimes i really think I'd love to write a book with my picture on the cover and one of those metal plates superimposed on top of my mouth, to which I would love the title to be Mute-Clown-Moments: Life in France for the Foreigner. (No one had better steal that idea!!) My favorite experience as of late was when I was moving apartments and my two big burly Russian guy friends (I have to say I love the Russian man mentality of helping the damsel in distress, granted I don't nearly qualify as said damsel in distress or really in need of a man...but it's still nice to have someone else do the heaving lifting for you). Anyway, I had gone to IKEA to pick out all the furniture and my two Russians came and met me there, we rented a little Camionette (french for work van) to move all of the stuff to my new place and I felt like it was just a moment from a movie when three six foot tall people (me and the two boys) all crammed into the font bucket seat of the van with our knees practically in our chests while the two sat there speaking in russian and I sat on the other side bobbing my head back and forth to the imaginary music playing since there was no radio and I had no idea what they were talking about (my russian classes aren't going that well yet). Eventually I started laughing out loud at the ridiculousness of the situation, which of course they thought was bizarre because they aren't well versed in the american sense of humor, let alone well versed in Sarah:) A similar moment followed when a week later two more Russians went to pick up my new washing machine and were lugging it up my teeeeeeenny tiiiiiiiiny narrow stairway (literally about an inch of leeway on each side for the machine to pass) all the while swearing and cursing in a language you only can pick out a few words in...I must say, you learn the pronunciation of your name very quickly and get pretty annoyed when they start laughing and you know it's a joke a your expense because you just heard your name followed by rompus laughter...oh well, I'll get there eventually.

So several weeks into the new apartment and several loads of washing later life is going well. As most of you know I have taken up running, as I have taken up cooking and therefore the sport of eating:) I went and bought my first pair of runner shoes (and shelled several euros to many on them) but totally worth it. although I still have a hard time running outside in them because of the need to play hopscotch to avoid all the god forsaken dog shit everywhere on the pavement...this is one thing I loathe about France...people who don't pick up after their pets...I mean really, how lazy are you, that's just gross! Anyway, the running is going well and I have my first 10k race in five weeks back in NYC!! That's right, I've decided for my two week easter vacation (did I mention I love working here) that I've decided to head back to the US to spend a wild week with my besties in NYC and then down to see my family and friends in TN. I am very much looking forward to all the eating I am going to do:) Not that I don't do enough here...last week after my trip to the grocery store my hiking backpack (yes this is what I wear to go food shopping) was so full I thought I was going to fly off the back of my friend's motorcycle...I was clenched onto his backpack for dear life in a ab-locked position for the entire 20 minute ride home...needless to say I was not pleased when he took a different route (the longer one). I started screaming at him in English through my helmet (which did much good because he barely speaks it) to which he started laughing because he thought it was absolutely hilarious...what is it about men that makes them think we're so cute when we're really pissed off? Don't they know it just pisses us off even more when they laugh because we're angry about something!?!

Ah anyway, it's been super interesting here lately to say the least. But I am quite excited to visit back to the land of I don't have to think before I talk every time I want to say something...and by that I mean I don't have to prepare every single sentence and have what I like to affectionately think of as the equivalent of the new york stock ticker going through my head at all times only with french instead of stats...that will be most refreshing. however I do have to say that I am quite pleased with my French skills, but the more I study the better I want to get, and the more and more I just dream of being bilingual...which will just take time...or a French man....one or the other, whichever comes first:) I often want to stop French children in the street and ask them if they know how lucky they are that they get to learn French as their first language...because let me tell you folks, English has got to be one of the easiest languages to learn...French on the other hand...sometimes makes me want to die inside when I realize just how much I still DON'T know...le sigh. So it goes.

Well that's all for now on this side of the pond. I promise I will try to be much better about getting updates in more often. I know how much I enjoy reading my friend's blogs and I really do appreciate hearing from all of you every time I write one. I think of you often and fondly!!

Much much love,

Sarah:)

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Well the semester is back in full swing now, I've officially been back and teaching for the last week. I am quite pleased to report though that this semester I am teaching a much less heavy course load, now allowing me to have lots of free time, to which I have of course translated into learning! (wow, I want to learn and study with my free time..who knew?) I have decided this semester to follow several of my colleague's courses; I am taking a 2nd year grammar french/english class (this is very good for me, as most of the time, even though my french has gotten a lot better, I am afraid I still sound like an ignorant foreigner trying to communicate) I also had my new favorite class for the first time yesterday, translation! It is a french to english or english to french translation class and I am taking it with my good friend Marica (another lectrice and my american soulmate I have come to find in France) and it is taught by our friend Charlotte (a Frenchie who you would think is actually american by her accent, I couldn't believe it when I found out she was French...she's so good it makes me want to cry, I found myself spending the latter part of the class contemplating the size of her brain...) Finally the last class I am taking is a Russian class. This my friends, is the trial of my week, to learn 3rd foreign language as taught in your 2nd foreign language will make you head want to explode, just thought i'd put that out there for you. So far I have discovered I have a knack for translation, that I really suck at grammar and that Russian, may not be as hard as I thought.

The end of the christmas holidays wound down with a bang as I ended up going mano e mano again with my french landlady...it's a long complicated drawn out story that ends with me, and most likely Siobhan (my other flatmate) moving out of the flat. (If you would like an in depth email as to why I am happy to send you one). However since said experience with said landlady, I have found myself more involved with people watching here, and taking note of all the little idiosyncrasies that these people don't realize are just strange as hell (well, to me anyway). For example, you have at your disposal three types of French students, those that we call "achievers" that sit in the front row, answer most of your questions, actually want to speak English and do speak english all through class. They generally shower, wear a fresh pair of clothes and have at least brushed their teeth before coming to class equipped with at least a pencil and paper. Then we have our "tourists," they are what I like to think of as the hippies of the group, they shower a lot less, and their style in clothing (as french young people are either jcrew or hippied out with MC Hammer pants that I really thought would never exist again...I'm not kidding, and in the ugliest colors you've ever seen) they tend to answer some of the questions, but thoroughly make you want to bathe yourself just by looking at them and pull that ugly piercing out of whatever inappropriate part of their face that its attached to. About 3/4 of the "tourists" end up flunking out and never coming back. That leaves my least favorite kind of students "Beavis and Butthead." Those two jackasses who like to sit in the back row, talk all the time, pretend they don't speak english, and mock your french when you try to explain what you already said in English. Generally you have to emotionally abuse these students, at least that's what it feels like to me when I single them out in front of a room of 30, make them stand up, move seats, remain standing speak to me in English outloud while I ask them if they remember who the professor is, let them sit back down mortified and then end up kicking them out five minutes later because they still won't shut the hell up. I really am going to have to re-learn appropriate teaching methods when I get back to the states, as most of the time here I feel like a lion tamer with a long whip...ha, I am the Indiana Jones of students...or something like it.

The end of the holidays here passed much too quickly as usual and I very soon found myself with LOTS to do and not a lot of time. I corrected over 360 exams in a little under two weeks (and drank copious amounts of beer to go with it, because when you ask a 1st year law student what the difference is between a red state and a blue state in the US and get the response that the "two colors represent the EYES of the world" it really makes you want to cry). My personal favorite, as Marcia and I were both grading our exams and sharing our favorite mess ups, was when she asked a question about Thoreau's influences (as we had learned about civil disobedience) and one of her responses cited Ghandi as one of THOREAU'S major influences...not that I'm a genius here, but I'm pretty sure several decades passed between those two, and as far as I know, Ghandi didn't have a time machine....oh my. I do hope that some of this is making you laugh, as it made us laugh till we cried, which is good, as you need a sense of humor when marking franglais essay exams, otherwise you might just cry cry, and that's no good. However, there are those students who make up for everything in spades, and I do have to say, I had the pleasure of being invited to lunch with said favorite students this week. We chatted for two hours about everything (all in French as well...which is good for me, as the majority of French I speak, be it a lot, is with non-francophones, so switching to actual francophones at their normal speed and being able to keep up is quite an accomplishment for me, especially when there's 5 of them and one of you).

So then, these have been the happenings in the adventures of Sarah lately, not too much terribly new to report and I'm sorry it's taken sooo long for me to get another post up. Friends coming and going, parties and re-entry back to school kindof took it out of me these last few weeks. I hope everything is well back stateside and I wish you all a very good start to your new years as well.

I love you, I miss you,

Sarah

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