Vlog 2

Dessert recipe + updates + deep thoughts

Vlog 1

First video blog is posted on YouTube! I'm hoping to post Vlog #2 in a few days.

Thank you to all my family and friends who helped me make the best of my summer while I was vacationing in the States. I miss you all already.

epic...like the bottle i'm posed with

I'm surprised an entire month has gone by since I last blogged about any of my mischief in France and thereabouts. I've been busy (which explains lack of blogging I suppose) and this month seems to have lasted an eternity. Perhaps because the days are longer (the sun sets at almost 9:30pm now) or the languid days of summer and their accompanying habits seem to establish themselves in a more eventual way in French society. This is also the first Spring since 1986 when I haven't been able to define the passing of the season with a final report card or occassional diploma. Instead, I find myself dragging my feet about writing my final exams for my students in a way similar to how I always approached end-of-the-year school projects. But I don't have to take the tests this time. Ha!

This blog will explain what's been going on with me in Paris in a rather anachornistic way since all the events of the past month are now a gentle blur in my mind. Let's start with the picture on your left. This is me with a Balthazar bottle of G.H. Mumm's Cordon Rouge Champagne. They really do make this size for purchase which is the equivalent of 12L or 16 bottles of wine. And no, I didn't drink it after taking the photo. A and I did do some champagne tasting after the tour of the champagne caves, but only two glasses each. We also visited Le Chateau Pommery and the incredibly large, Gothic cathedral in Reims. I bought a bottle from Pommery and it's safe and sound in my bedroom, waiting to be opened for my going away party in late June.

As spring break began with champagne tasting, it was only fitting that I go to Amsterdam, finishing it out with a visit to one of the many "coffeeshops" and participating in all the vices Europe has to offer. Luckily, I was able to stay for free with two good friends L and E. Though I didn't make it out to the colorful tulip fields to inhale their sweet perfume, I did make the rounds to the Rijksmuseum (saw original Rembrandts and Vermeers), the Van Gogh Museum which happened to have a special exhibit featuring both Starry Nights, and Anne Frank's House:

Amsterdam was a short and much needed break from the madness that is Paris and my budding professional life. Since moving to Paris, I've adopted the classic Parisienne look of tall boots, skinny jeans, a black jacket, and a colored scarf -- at first, an attempt to hide my Americanness and blend in; now, my preferred outift. This was the gear I wore on the train up to Amsterdam and as soon as I stepped off the platform into Centraal Station, I felt overdressed for the occassion. Much to my astonishment, no one was there with judging eyes leering over their Gucci eyewear. I'm pretty sure I saw more than one person wearing socks with sandals, a style phenomenon which just doesn't exist in the fashion capital of the world. Besides for the discrepancies in outward appearances, it also turned out people were much more calm and I was delighted to see bikes in use as a prominent mode of transportation. I've never seen such an array of gadgets and accessoires in bike stores designed to maximize transport capacity, whether you are toting groceries for a party to make Dutch 'pancakes' or your three small children and the family dog. These things need to exist in America. They need to exist everywhere for that matter. Somehow, I managed to have never ridden with more than one person on my bike, even during the more rambuncious years of my childhood, until I went to Amsterdam. I 'rode' and was 'ridden', as the local students succinctly described it, and would have to say it was almost the highlight of my trip since I felt the same initial terror and gradual giddyness as an 8-year-old trying it for the first time. There was a lot of giggling while bike riding which may or may not have had to do with the "coffeeshops".

L and E as well as their two friends E and M came back to Paris with me the following weekend so I could repay the favor of hosting and the Servant Quarters were once again temporarily converted into a youth hostel. I was a little stressed to return to Paris where half a book awaited my translation skills and an unorganized semester at Marne required a strategy to wrap up the end of the school year in a semi-coherent way, at least enough to warrant a fair evaluation of my students. At this point, Marne professors were still holding weekly meetings to debate whether the entire semester ought to be cancelled due to the possible unfair evaluation of the students so I had a hard time even perceiving teaching a real responsibility (Just last week, they finally decided the semester would conclude with finals after all).

Nevertheless, we went to the Eiffel Tower, I got robbed of my crepe, celebrated E's birthday, took a fantastic stroll to my favorite Jardin de Luxuembourg, ate escargot (I think I make everyone try it who comes to visit me), stopped into the Louvre, caught a free jazz show at Duc de Lombards and had a picnic + crafternoon in a local park.  This particular week was also hectic because my new flatmate B was in the process of moving in. At this point, she's officially been here for just over two weeks and it's been fantastic. After J left, I really felt the apartment was too big and as B was having a bit of a housing crisis, living together was the best solution for both of us. Besides, living in Central Paris for the same price as a loft in downtown Lincoln is a bargain that you just cannot pass up. If we agree to extend the flatmate situation through next year (it's only temporary through September at the moment), this means I would be able to afford travelling to Iceland next Winter or Spring. :)

I have finished the first draft of the 160-page book translation and have to work on revisions for the next month, but I don't mind doing this type of editing as I can print the pages and make my red edits in a park. Probably at Luxuembourg. The last week I spent crouched over my computer, trying to complete the final third portion of the book translation, almost drove me insane. I seldom slept, got paranoid about possible radiation from my ancient computer, and felt as if someone had sucked the life right out of my bones. I really am not made for computer work (What human being is?), but I never seem to consider this factor when a generous paycheck may be involved. The current plan is to have an initial version ready at the end of June to send to publishers, but both Nicolas and I feel the writing is too dense and not accessible enough for a wide audience so he will work on a second version this summer and we'll meet up again in September to write a new contract, discuss changes to the book, and hopefully submit to and find a publisher before the new year.

Y otra noticia: Nicolas introduced me to a professor in ENPC's English Department about a month ago and this man, John, sent me an email recently suggesting I apply for the next academic school year. So I did. Went for an informal interview over coffee (or hot chocolate on my side of the table). The best thing is that it's only a few hours a week and the building is on the same campus as Marne, though the universities are officially unaffiliated as Marne is public and ENPC falls into the category of being a private grande ecole. Other best thing (if it's possible to have two best things though the English teacher in me says it's not) and only upside to disorganized French education systems is that you can start from scratch and run with an idea for a class if you really want. Example: at ENPC I will teach a class about multicultural perspectives and travel writing, at Marne I will teach a class about American culture through current sitcoms. I'm excited about preparing both courses, besides, I have a hard time fathoming the idea of not working this summer.

What I have an easy time fathoming about this summer is going roller skating, seeing Neko Case at Slowdown on my birthday, road tripping to Chicago, visiting Joel and Ericka in Portland, eating spicy Mexican food, reinstating crafternoons, and spending quality time with all my friends and family who I've missed dearly. I'll need to soak up as much of this last item as possible in order to make it through Year 2 before I am able to reclaim my roots in Nebraska, though I am already taking bets on how long I will stay before the restless need to travel the world takes hold again. Any bets? Reward to the winner is a souvenir of your choosing.

Last book read: "Last Night in Paradise: Sex and Morals at the Century's End" by Katie Roiphe.

Last movies watched: "Je l'aimais" and "Wolverine: X-Men Origins" (both were fantastic; I hope they make more X-Men movies, though the preview for the first doesn't to justice to the heartbreaking film)

Weirdest dinner this week: deviled eggs, assorted berries on oatmeal, samosa and white wine.

I just realized I didn't even cover half of the other exciting things going on, so I will have to write the second installment of this epic blog tomorrow as it's late in Franceland and I have to administer final exams tomorrow. Bonne nuit!

this morning...

...I woke up with an overwhelming urge to listen to Paul Revere & The Raiders' "Indian Reservation" as well as Leslie Gore's "You Don't Own Me". I think this is perhaps another manifestation of homesickness as I remember listening to KGOR "oldies" on breezy May weekends either in the car with my parents on the way to visit my grandparents in Council Bluffs, and later to visit their final resting places in Soldier Valley, or occassionally blaring it from the living room speakers in an attempt to motivate the dreaded, but always revitalizing, ritual of Spring cleaning. Thank goodness for Youtube.

already april

And I started the month so well with daily blogging posts. I suppose there was good reason for the deterioration of my effort as the month progressed, but the good news is that things are no longer falling apart. Surprising to find that although one part of my foundation completely crumbled away, there is a more solid base underneath which will always be there, at least for as long as I exist.

Last week, put off translation due to surprise (not-really, because I knew she was coming, I just forgot) visit from good friend E. She needed to go to the Embassy of Ghana in the 16th to apply for a tourist visa to prepare for her second voyage to Africa. Reminded me that I ought to consider Africa as a travel destination while I'm in Europe, not that I'm short of this type of thing. We metro'ed to the 16th, on the other side of Paris, then walked to the Eiffel Tower and along La Seine, all the way to Notre Dame. There was fantastic weather to be had by all which invovled me getting sunburnt. We found some dejeuner a emporter and picnicked in the cute garden behind Notre Dame.

E is fun to be with in Paris because she has a fresh way of looking at things which I'm either used to or have grown used to ignoring since I sometimes live in my own little 1m wide bubble. For example, I've ceased making most any generalizations about Parisians or the French or their respective cultures. Perhaps this means I'm really at "home" here, perhaps this means I've adopted said customs and can no longer distinguish myself. E made fun of the way I added a "quoi" to the end of many French sentences and we discussed the habit of "faisant la bise". I do miss hugs, but my reaction upon meeting someone or greeting friends is to kiss them on both cheeks. So here is my formal apology to anyone Stateside who I come across this summer and accidentally greet in this manner.

We headed south from Notre Dame to wander into the 5th, witnessing yet another demonstration near La Sorbonne University (shrug, no big deal I say), and found our way into my favorite Jardin de Luxuembourg where we proceeded to sit for four, maybe five hours. I broke in my new journal (finally splurged on a sleek Moleskin, without lines), E shared her KinderBueno stash with me and we discussed my current read "The Feminine Mystique". E will be back in two weeks before her flight to Ghana and I'm looking forward to more park bumming, perhaps at vertical Parc de Buttes Chaumont.

So translation got postponed to Friday and Saturday...which then got postponed to late Sunday night and I'll have to get the rest of it done tomorrow. It really is too darn nice out to stay inside in front of the computer screen. I find a bit of random dancing and wiggling to be helpful while translating for hours at a time. As well as wearin slippers.

What did I do this weekend then if I didn't translate? Good question. Perfected cooking fried rice (even with chicken! and it's spicy!) on the hot plate, watched more Six Feet Under, moved things from living/kitchen room to bedroom in preparation for new roommate B who will help save my spot in Paris for next fall, went to the Opera Bastille with G to see Macbeth sung in Italian by Russian singers, subtitled in French which was later discussed with G in Spanish. All of these things are a hundred times more pleasurable than translating about the difference between mathematical and philosophical probabilities and their respective histories hence my procrastination.

Bref, en fin de compte, I don't remember the last time I felt so grounded and generally happy (despite translation woes). It's certainly nice to find my own two feet again.

the physical manifestation of homesickness

From St. Malo trip in February with Anne. Photographed from on top of the ramparts surrounding Intramuros area of the city.

Well, I've seen this pattern of getting sick once a month before -- last year when I studied in Besancon. Obviously, this hasn't been the easiest year as Jacob will be flying back to the U.S. this Thursday and given all the stressful moments leading up to said departure. Really, it's no fun being sick and alone in the first place; even worse when abroad. This of course begs the question be asked if living in Paris is worth the difficulties. I have to believe it's worth it. Also, I've always believed the most difficult things are the ones most worth doing. On the bright side, I purchased a Lufthansa ticket to return to the U.S. on June 29th. I'll spend a few touristy days with John in D.C. then fly back to Nebraska on July 3rd. I can't wait to see everyone.

Last Friday, I met with Nicolas to review the first part of the book translation I'd finished for him. I wasn't particularly looking forward to the meeting because I didn't feel the most confident about my work, but he thought I did a good job and wants to keep paying me to continue the rest of the translation. The main mistakes were with some specific mathematical and philosophical vocabulary.

Went to La Comedie Francaise on Saturday for the first time with Anne. We had 5euro, reduced visibility seats for one of the last performances of Cyrano de Bergerac. Despite the peasant seating, and not getting all the clever quips, I had a great time. I ought to go more often.

Last movie watched: "Jesus Christ Superstar". This is my favorite movie to watch when I'm sick. Always makes me feel better, if just temporarily. Watched it with Spanish subtitles (Jesucristo Superestrella) in preparation to meet a new Spanish conversation partner tonight.

book finks love eminem

Yes, I saw "8 Mile", though I waited for it to go to the Super Saver Cinema for $2.00. And I sing-a-long when the occassional Eminem passes within listening range: Mosh is a pretty cool video.

Today was my first full day off work (either teaching or private tutoring) in over a week, so I spent the afternoon at the Jardin de Luxembourg. I also was getting frustrated with my apartment as the hot water heater has stopped working and the spring gnats have woken from hibernation. Instead of chashing them away from my kitchen all afternoon, I opted for trading books in the 5th at San Francisco Book Company and baking in the sun.

I traded three books for 12euro credit. I found Milan Kundera's "The Unbearable Lightness of Being" and James Baldwin's "Giovanni's Room". One of the chapters I translated for Nicolas described Kundera's philosophy as described by his characters. I'd also been meaning to read it since watching the film courtesy of Jeremy. Often, I feel inadequate as a Parisian (if only temporarily) for not knowing my spatial geography of the city so I was determined to doing some walking as well given the lovely weather to remedy this.

Jardin de Luxembourg was packed, as in I had to walk around for about ten minutes before finding a free metal lounge chair. I was feeling pretty scrubby having not showered in three days due to lack of hot water and the head-to-toe glances at my wardrobe by the Parisians affirmed so. I still don't quite understand the non-chalant yet meticulous brand-name obession most French people display. I don't know if I'll ever be able to jump onto that band wagon.

I munched on a baguette and finished reading a Thomas Kuhn article about paradigms in preparation for some more translation work this evening. It was tough to concentrate on with all the people watching, or people judging, happening. Also, went through a Pariscope and highlighted plays and concerts I'd like to see. Two concerts I am missing as they were already sold out before I realized they were here: P.J. Harvey and Antony and the Johnsons. Very, very disappointing.

After about three hours of sun, it was time to head back home to see if the gnats had completely taken over the apartment. I took my time, opting to walk from the 5th to Republique in the 10th. I certainly didn't mean to, but I stumbled on a sidewalk book sale at a store in the 6th called Epicea, just to the south of St. Michel Metro stop (6 Rue Danton). First, the 1,80euro bilingual poetry books caught my eye: "Primera Soledad/Premiere solitude" by Luis de Gongora and "El Cristo de Velazquez/Le Christ de Velaquez" by Miguel de Unamuno. I figured, "For 3,20euro, why not read some bilingual Spanish/French poetry books and add to the linguistic spaghetti known as my brain?" Then I saw they also had English classics for 2,50euro. Initially wanting to be an English major at UNL, I'm making up for lost time. Found: "Dubliners" James Joyce, "Lord Jim" Joseph Conrad, "Lady Chatterley's Lover" and "Women in Love" D.H. Lawrence. Also found the only short novel ever written by Proust for 3euro "La confessions d'une jeune fille".

Moseying my way across and along the Seine, I couldn't help but browse the bouquinist stands on the quay. Found for 3euro each Marcel Pagnol's duo novels "Jean de Florette" and "Manon des sources" which were later turned into quintessential French films as well as "Les enfants terribles" by Jean Cocteau. A few blocks later, I found myself in the 4th, trotting in the direction of Republique and then it hits me: I've got a serious problem. I should not be allowed to go book shopping unsupervised. I'm liable to spend my grocery money, though I'd be willing to eat soup and oatmeal everyday to support this addiction. At least half the books are in French.

Upon returning home, I find the hot water still out, nine gnats beating themselves senselessly on the inside of my window, and a significant, uneven drip from the shower faucet. At least I've got my books.