Things probably happened before last Thursday but their importance is just not great. So starting November 27th –
First, Kassie and I (and probably lots of other Americans) were being all stoic and saying “psh – holidays? Whatever. We’re are being so culturally enriched we won’t even notice that it’s happening.” Then we all woke up Thursday morning and cried a little. We all remedied in our select ways. Kassie went to some fancy-schmancy dinner at some fancy-schmancy restaurant with the Colby kids and all their host families for some designer Thanksgiving dinner with a French twist (minimal bitterness but, yes, I’m judging you a little because…)
Back in real people world – we did it home grown style. Sarah and I got together and planned an epic meal to share with Mireille and Kirsty to give them their first Thanksgiving experience. Sadly, French shopping center world missed the memo.
Sweet potatoes – denied.
Tools for green bean casserole – denied
Cranberries – denied
Pecan pie – Denied (but that’s a low blow. What were we really expecting?)
So the final menu –
Small intact bird – already cooked – Sarah and I both felt entirely lackluster about the need but decided it’s a little bit of a keystone.
Green beans – fresh – to be cooked with lemon and almonds (thanks, mom)
Stuffing. Home Made. - no turkey. No problem.
Bread product – this is France after all.
Wine – this is France after all
Blueberry pie – already assembled – where I come from that’s bad news but time and equipment restraints you understand.
All in all. Eh. When a call came from State side where all were about to sit down after an epic meal to then eat unparalleled pies contributed by both my aunt and sister. Ehhh. I want that, please.
Just took a long break, unnoticeable in cyber space, to eat with Mireille and her daughter and boyfriend (tres serieux – and his name is Pierre just for the extra cultural touch) who happened to be here to play with his new iphone or “quoi” (what) which is what these people add at the end of every single sentence ever. But I actually followed and might have even been able to actively contribute to their conversation if they hadn’t been talking all nerdy about cheese.
In other less immediate news: this past weekend, the latest CIEF excursion was to some Christmas markets or Marches de Noel as it goes here. Real cultural, real lit up, real cold. Kassie and Liz preferred greatly le vin chaud (hot, spiced wine) which Liz declared is hereby the official drink of their Worcester apartment next year. Now that’s a party I could get behind.
Admittedly, the lights were very pretty but this country needs to get a hold on themselves. Just because they haven’t had a significant holiday since July 14th or something. You know those pictures that are taken of Earth from space and they show how lit up or not each region of the world is? I would fund a space mission in order that there is one of those only of France between December 1st and 26th.
What else? My professor who told me I had a horrible accent, was incapable of life and that I should go home complimented me today and said I’m getting better. Thanks. I think. And I didn’t fail my grammar test.
Currently no idea what is going on in life leading up to and on the day of Noel.
A lot of the kiddies at the CIEF are getting all geared up to go home. Wow. That’s crazy talk. Go home? Who does that?
As much as I want to go into my room and ship myself home on a daily basis from time to time, if I was going home now it would be frustrating. Disclaimer: I’m saying this in English from the safety of my room as I sit in my PJs. Ask me tomorrow morning at 10:30 in the heat of class with one. certain. professor. (baring my teeth. Just in case you couldn’t notice) and I’d sell my soul for an oar and a large rubber bin. Isn’t life funny.
Also check this - observe this cultural experience if you will. And you will.
le cours – studies
la cour – courtyard, area in front of a house
le cour – (don’t know. Didn’t write it down.)
la cour – court of justice
la course – a trail (ex running)
les courses – shopping (or le shopping in French.)
court – not long.
Closely followed by
Vers - toward
Un verre – a glass
Vert - green
Un vers - a verse
Un ver – a worm
That’s all. Boooooooring. Bye for now.
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