Health of the Body

So I promised to write about my health struggles this fall. I was thinking I could get out of it, since my health issues were resolving themselves, and if not immediately in front of my face, I can easily forget things. But alas, these issues are still ongoing, still shoving themselves in front of my face. Damn them!

For general health and exploration of "wellness" I began seeing an acupuncturist in August. Diane, a fellow Baha'i and also a good friend of mine, is incredibly talented, incredibly intuitive...I was hooked with the first session. I initially went to get treatment regulating my crazy monthly cycle and resolving chronic depression. But in the course of our sessions she discovered things that also needed attention, thoughts and attitudes firmly lodged in my body that had to be washed away. I began taking herbs for all of these things and was told to change my diet. On the top of the list: No More Sugar.

So I began trying to cut out more sugar from my diet. However, as I'm kind of like a crack fiend, only with sugar, this was less than successful. And so time passed and I kept working on things and seeing her as much as I could. And then I got the rash.

We (meaning me and everyone I was desperately asking) figured it was an allergic reaction to a new product I'd used on my face. Because the rash, the puffy, swollen, itchy raging rash, was only on my face. Lucky me. I didn't want to go out of the house like that, and I was also strangely tired all the time, so I spent a good week sitting at home (when not at work) watching Grey's Anatomy episodes and sleeping. (consequently not helping the depression thing...nothing makes you feel more isolated and depressed than the plague.) And so I got through it. Acupuncture did help, but as Diane tried different herbs on me, nothing seemed to do the trick. It was healing, so it didn't matter...I got rid of the suspect moisturizer and cleanser and put it all behind me.

Until it happened again. And I was so crushed. A sneaking suspicion, aided by frantic google searches led me to believe it was eczema. Which is something you have for life, once you get it. I have a friend who's sister suffers from it. She has to take a ton of Benadryl and uses steroid creams and still has horrible outbreaks regularly. Not having insurance, I wasn't going to run to a dermatologist immediately. I figured it'd be a big bill, for a diagnosis and a prescription for steroid creams that I didn't really want to take, as over time they damage the skin. My parents had come to town that weekend and I think they were really concerned because they'd never seen anything like it. My mom and I had an appointment at the Aveda Institute and though the girl who did my hair was nice, every other perfectly coiffed girl there glanced in horror at the girl who dared to appear in public with a face like that. At my appointment with Diane a few days later, she scolded me for not calling her sooner, and then after doing some acupuncture, she referred me to Dr. Chen, a Chinese dermatologist who would give me specific herbs to treat my condition.

The next day, I sat in the waiting room of the acupuncture school, flustered because I was late, because I got lost. My meeting with Dr. Chen was quick; she looked at my face, my tongue and felt my pulse. I told her about my symptoms and then sat back in the waiting room as she prepared the herbs. That night I felt like I was in Potions class in the Harry Potter books, brewing my concoction. The tea, I soon found out, was horrid stuff. Horrid. Like drinking vomit. And then there was the list of foods that I could not eat. Some I didn't care about. No mangos, okay. No seafood, no problem. No onions or garlic? What? Are you kidding me? It's only what I put in almost every dish I make. It's only what flavors everything. And then there was no beef, no fried food, no pineapple, no turkey. And cut out almost all sugar. Big surprise.

A week on this new regime was hard. And for some reason I thought it would only take a week. I improved dramatically. When I went back and she gave me more herbs, I was devastated. I felt I deserved a reprieve from the restrictions and the vomit tea. I may have been still detoxing from the sugar, because I became super depressed and didn't want to do anything. But later I got used to it. Used to the tea, and the new eating. I'm actually really grateful...nothing else would have made me quit sugar, but the threat of a horrid rash appearing if I didn't.

My skin has been getting better and better since. Until a few days ago. I think I'm having another episode. But I only think so, because I can hardly tell. I can feel it, and there are small patches of the rash here and there. But so far, no horrible outbreaks or eyes so swollen I can't open them in the morning. I see Dr. Chen tomorrow. This will mean more of the yuckier herbs, I'm sure, but I'm pretty sure we'll get to the bottom of this. With all these changes I feel healthier than I have in a long time. And if nothing else, at least I've learned patience. For long-lasting health benefits it takes a longer treatment. Hopefully I'll never have to resort to medicines that are more damaging than beneficial. Hopefully I can kick this eczema, or whatever it is in the butt.

Second Adolescence

I think Marjan was right. There's a second adolescence that comes in your early to mid twenties. Looking back at pictures from the past few years I have to say, Good Lord, am I awkward! On the brighter side: maybe I'll actually grow up this time...

Thought cued by picture of random baby...

Why do babies look like old men sometimes, but not always? I suspect it has something to do with the bald heads and the ears that stick out. And the need to wear diapers.

Guess what?

I hate my body and my body hates me.

(and in other news...)

Coming Soon: The saga of my quest for health. Stay tuned, it'll be a mini-series.

Random Thoughts

I feel like I used to be witty. But I could be wrong.

Another List

Directly copied from a post it-

SHIT TO DO:

>sign up for Praxis tests

>fill out and send in new mncare app

>pay bills (find them?)

>buy boots

I had a bit of time today. But I decided to watch La vie en rose, skip dinner (because it involves work) and eat toast. I took the night off, then made a to-do list to make up for it. Go me.

Trying to Intuitively Feel My Way Through This

After putting in place my path to a stable career (what my grandma once called, a "real job" -something she suggested I get) I find myself frantically trying to decide about my future. After getting the job (nannying) that would enable me to volunteer in a classroom, that would give me a specific number of "classroom hours" to apply for the University of Minnesota's Master's of Education Licensure program to become a high school teacher of French and ESL, I find myself as indecisive as I was when I was a freshman as an undergrad. And then it wasn't about picking a career. I just needed a major, assuming the career thing would come later.

It's later.

It's funny, but in the end deciding my majors wasn't terribly hard. I was all about the English and so I was like, yeah, I think I'll just do it. Why not? I needed something to feel like I had some direction, so I chose it and I felt it was just the thing for me. And then I added French, because dude, I like, really like French. And French really did become such a passion, as did the relation between my French studies and the Humanities in general. The last semester before I graduated I felt so engrossed in my studies. It finally all fit together, and I loved it. And then it ended.

For a few years now, I've flirted with this whole "real world" concept: having a job, paying the bills. Being "grown-up". But really I've just been buying time, until I figure out what my next move is. Grad school? A definite, specific career? But wait, I liked moving from one thing to the next, knowing there'd always be something new coming in the next six months anyway. I think I'm kind of like my dad this way. Restless. A need to keep seeing new things, having new experiences. Even if it's hard. I guess this is the dilemma I'm being faced with: Move onto something temporary, a new experience in a new place for a short period of time, and then reassess from there (serving at the World Center was suggested) ...or Finally settle down and get a real career thing going. The question is: what does my gut say? My intuitive (or perhaps impulsive) whim usually turns out to be right for me, even if it goes against the expectations of my family. I'm the crazy girl who ran off to France. Again, and again. But it was right for me.

So I'm trying not to get too worked up about this. I'm going to ask a lot of questions, do a lot of research and truly pray that the answer falls into my lap. Or that a breeze carries me in one direction or another. I'm waiting for something that tells me what my purpose on this earth is.

I Don't Like

...running errands in the rain. Cold rain. Today was the second day I've had to do this. Oh winter, why dost thou pursue me?

I Like

...drinking really good coffee at the end of my work day. I unwind from the stress of the day, and it shows that I see some potential for my evening hours.

Jai Ho!

So for whatever reason, I was inspired tonight to look up the "Jai Ho" song from Slumdog Millionaire on YouTube. I ended up watching the dance and was transported in my mind to different moments, scenes from the past year. The dancing and the song reminded me instantaneously of seeing Slumdog Millionaire in a theatre in Nancy with a class of 16 year old boys from my school (a perk of being an assistant...free movies, in English -to watch with the students because they're educational) and how all the students laughed at the dance at the end. I laughed too, but loved it at the same time. The other moment was not really one moment, but a kalidescope in my mind of this summer watching Bollywood movies with Mona and Tariq, absorbing the romantic and melodramatic world that is Bollywood. Both thoughts lead me to other thoughts, or rather feelings. I feel such a rich sense of living when I glance back at these things, the music and colors and food all swirls together. I miss Nancy. Terribly. I miss living with Mona at our crazy apartment on the train tracks this summer. I want to go back to those times, want to capture the magic I feel now about them. I didn't feel the magic in the moment then, it's only looking back at what was that makes my heart sing for the joy of living. Maybe the magic is there only because the sense of loss is there as well.

I admit, I've been dragging my steps through the present. It's not as exciting, not as fulfilling, not as ...whatever as those past times were. But I know I can't go back to Nancy now. It's not the same without my particular gang of assistants. Now there are other assistants in Nancy to take our place and I don't know them like I do Natalie, Pedro, Tina, Andres. Mona moved back to the dorms, Tariq went to some southern land far away and took the Bollywood movies with him. Guess this means I can only move forward. I can only try and extract that joy and thrill of living from the present moment. It means many things are happening right now that I will look back on from the future with a thrill of pleasure.

Which leads me to dancing in the kitchen at 11pm, making vegetable soup and singing to myself "Jai Ho!" My roommate probably things I'm five kinds of crazy, but let the record state that this moment wasn't passed up by looking at the past or future.

A Letter to the Narcissists

Dear Narcissist,

I'm done. I'm done being treated as an inferior being. I have waited patiently to be noticed for all the things I did to please you, to be shown a bit of love. It never came. I'm done feeling that one day you'll see the error of your ways. You won't. I'm done thinking I can do something to make you stop hurting me. I can't.

However...

I insist that I be treated with respect. I refuse to let you put me down, demean me and ignore me. I will be heard. No matter what you think. It doens’t matter anymore. I have nothing to lose. You will never value me anyway, so I may as well go down fighting. You won’t see me if I do what you say, you won’t see me if I don’t. But you will respect me. Because I demand it. Because, though I can love you from a distance, I will not let you close enough to hurt me anymore and I only need you to treat me with the respect I deserve when i’m in your presence.

I am intelligent, beautiful, compassionate, capable, empathetic, innovative, strong, and courageous. I have an enormous amount of potential to become everything I’ve ever wanted to be (NOT what you want me to be) and now that I realize I can gain your approval in no way, I am free to do exactly as I please. I am free.

I do my part now, an example to others that we do not have to take it, we can throw it back and come out on top, laughing because it's no longer important what you think. Expect me to call you out on being disrespectful. Expect me to demand you atone for your insensitive comments. Expect me to laugh at your ego. Expect me to succeed and to soar.

Sincerely,

The disgruntled woman

My Boss

I began a job at the beginning of August after three months of unemployment (which was two and a half too many, if you ask me). Now that I've been working for a month, I think I have a pretty good read on my boss.

She appeared deceptively innocent when I first met her. I mean, I was intimidated, but I figured I'd impress her with my willingness to please and my ability to learn. My training period was not smooth sailing, due to the general transitions taking place in the company, but whenever I was overwhelmed more experienced personnel stepped in. My boss was quite flustered with all these changes and fellow workers were nervously watching to see how she'd adjust, how tyrannical she'd become. Turns out she's been tyrannical and ego-centric from the day she was born.

Somehow, from the beginning I was incompetent in every way and she made sure to voice or rather scream her displeasure. I didn't get her what she wanted fast enough, or it wasn't what she really wanted. My attempts to please were met with an expression on her face that basically said, "Ugh! You just don't get it and I hate you!"

By the end of my first full day I was about to collapse, I was so tired. It's a pretty physical job. For the first two weeks I was screamed at. I would look at my boss and ask myself, "Why does she scream all the time?" And cry. Does she cry. Out in the open, for the world to see. Except usually I'm the only one around so I see and hear it all.

Eventually I figured out what was up with the temper and all the crying. She didn't sleep much. She didn't eat much. Tired and crabby = screaming at me to fix it. Now, I know if someone is "The Boss" they should at least know how to eat and sleep in a manner that allows them to function. But not all bosses are that advanced. Not all bosses are adults. Mine happens to have lived on this planet for only five months. Baby Ella doesn't know how to sleep without help and can't eat unless I make and hold the bottle. She needs help to burp, she needs help getting dressed. But I dare you to find a boss that looks cuter in a onesie. Or shrieks with glee when you blow a raspberry. Or can be picked up and carried around.

Yes, Baby Boss and I had some issues at the beginning, but now that we understand each other's weaknesses (hers is that she cannot use words to communicate, mine is that my breasts are not lactating), we're getting along just fine. Have big plans with Pooh and Piglet and Tigger tomorrow:)

Cindy rennt

Must. Detach. Self. From. Computer. Must. Go. For. Run.

The plan was to go at 9:30am. Considering I got up at roughly noon yesterday, this was perhaps a bit over-enthusiastic. However. I did get up around 9:30, had my coffee, an apple and the plan was then to run. And then I went online.

Now, I haven't had good, decent, reliable internet in my own home since...August of 2008. Internet at the TECHNICAL school in Nancy, France was intermittent at best, usually non-existent. Summertime apartment where I stayed for 3 and a half months wasn't worth bothering Comcast with. But now. The possibilities. I have internet that can be looked at ALL DAY, EVERY DAY! Why wasn't this a part of my life when I was unemployed? Or only working 8 hours a week? Probably so I didn't forget how to read a book.

But now all those practices of self-restraint, responsibility, and time management must all be put into practice again. I have a huge to-do list today. I have stopped eating proper meals and getting proper exercise because of this gift/curse. (I assume my popsicles, though made of real fruit juice, are not a proper meal on anybody's food pyramid.) So I will go running. I will take a shower and call everyone I said I'd call and use the internet for practical purposes and not entertainment. I will go to the bank. But by God, at the end of today, I'm going to steam episodes of my favorite shows that I missed while in France. And eat popsicles.

Nostalgie

There's a radio station in Nancy, France (actually, maybe in all of France, not sure) that's called Nostalgie. It plays older, nostalgic songs. This September time, this back-to-school time, this new apartment time is full of nostalgie. I think about all the other places I've moved in to. And moved out of. I think of all the friends I made and then left. I think about the scents, the music of those other times and places. I can play an album and be transported back to a time when listening to that genre or artist was vital for my continued existence. Which reminds me...I need some new music. But anyway.

Apart from the nostalgia, I've also been a bit overstimulated. Autumn will do that to you. Why, you ask? Because I say it does. Because my memories compounded by the sights and sounds of the State Fair, the moving, the students in the streets, the changing of leaves and seasons, the boxes filled with STUFF sitting around my white-walled apartment hits my brain with such a jolt that I run to my bed and curl up under the covers. And dream weird things that I later relive in brief flashes as deja-vu.

All of this is not to say that I'm unhappy with this state of affairs. I'm pretty happy, despite the fact that the chaos has contributed to my scattered brain and caused me to forget my phone at home twice now. And it's incredible, the number of times I think, "Ugh, I don't have the number for this person cuz I don't have my phone. Ooh, I could call so and so for the number! Oh wait..."

The fact that I have internet now is awesome. The internet and I have rekindled our flame of love and I haven't gone to bed at a decent time the past few days because of this. The best thing about this is I can actually try to have more regular blog postings and I can also talk to friends far away on Skype. God bless the internet!!

Reclusive

I've been hiding away from the world. It's probably not healthy anymore. I might need to be firmly pulled from my shell, my warm, soothing shell that cuts off the interacting, before this snail becomes completely entrenched.

Change is scary

current mood: simultaneously hopeful and skeptical

1-10: 7.5

Apartment searching. Thinking about what I want from a habitation for the next two years. Wanting to stop the cycle of moving twice a year. Affordability vs location vs quality of apartment.

Applying for MinnesotaCare insurance. Thinking about the fact that I may make too much to get it. The line is very fine when the government decides if a person can afford to buy their own health insurance or not. If you make a few dollars too many, then you are deemed rich enough to pay over $150/month for second rate insurance where you're only covered in an accident that may or may not ever happen. And you can forget about dental. I may not get new contact lenses for years...

Thinking about money. And how I don't have any. And how I just need to hold on for a few more weeks...

Thinking about family and friends. And how I need to let them in, keep in contact, share the love.

Thinking about little ambitions of mine. And maybe moving ahead and making things happen. Scariness.

Questions

Current mood: sullen and rebellious

Scale of 1-10: 7.8 and going up:)

Why?

Why did I feel super sexy and satisfied with the size and shape of my body when I was walking home tonight listening to some Kanye West, but felt like a rotund whale when I was singing classical choral music? Who says beauty, and weight, isn't culturally specific? What does it mean when I get hit on more by men who are not of my race? Why does my desirableness matter, anyway?

Reproduction?

Hmm. Probably.

Gettin' holla'd at,

that chic strutting her stuff

Random Thoughts

-"recreational sugar" is a good way to describe those times when eating a thousand cookies becomes justifiable just because they're set out on a plate at a party. It's like crack. (Thanks Jess)

-I have no cash in my wallet and what's worse, I have no receipts in my wallet masquerading as cash. Odd how the little pieces of paper from former purchases make me feel better about no longer having cash.

-I've been napping a lot lately. A LOT. In fact, after this post, I'm going home to nap some more.

-I have a job that will not start for awhile. It's great, but I'm broke for the month of July and am going to donate plasma. Is it really a donation if I'm only doing it for the cash?

-Feeling guilty that I'm not a more giving person. Also that I'm not a more functional person. Also that I didn't put the damn tabs on my license plate and got fined for $108, roughly the amount of money in my bank account. Better start producing a TON of plasma.

-Coffee houses are overrated. Wifi internet connection, however, is not.

Shout Out:

...to my friend Jessica Mann, who is coming back to the glorious Midwest soooooo soon! This girl rocks my world. She is the kind of girl who's gutsy enough to apply for an awesome fellowship, get the money, live in Berlin for a year doing various awesome internships, date a cool German guy named Karsten, move to Munich to be with said boyfriend when he has to move there for a job, find an apartment, a job and a visa in new place (in strict, rule-loving Germany!) and be all around awesome. She hosted me in Berlin twice in situations where I was poor and alone in France and showed me a good time each time. She is so delightfully honest and funny and witty and adorable. I've loved this girl since the first year of college when we were randomly paired as roommates. I remember the first conversation we had on the phone, before we'd even met each other, and we were both like, "dude! this girl is totally like me!"

Come to Minneapolis already and lets go for a walk on the Stone Arch Bridge! Gros bisous!!!!

Feeling My Feelings

Mad. Mad that potential employers won't call me back. Mad that I don't understand my new computer. Mad that I can't stay positive. Mad that I'm spending money and not making it. Mad that I can't be organized and pleasant. Mad that my interpersonal relationships are feeling a bit uneasy. Mad that I feel incompetent. Mad at myself, mad at the world. Mad at about the fact that I'm not really angry, I'm just stagnant and am looking for a driving emotion.

Waaaaaahhhhh!

Unemployed

I have a new computer.  One that actually works with that thing called the internet.  One that actually allows me to update my blog.  Which is what I'm doing.  

How am I doing?  Friends and family ask me this.  I'm not sure what to say.  Because I'm unemployed.  Thus I feel like a non-functioning member of society (not true...I still have to buy stuff, like food).  I have the job of looking for work, sending millions of emails with my resume attached to them, calling employers of all kinds, but I find there's a lot of time to sink into the unemployment stupor.  The one where you watch movies and eat ice cream as a way to escape the reality that you have nothing to do today.  Luckily I have been generally able to avoid the unemployment stupor this time around, by giving myself a daily to-do list and kicking myself out of my apartment as much as possible.  And it all seems to be working okay...except I'm not getting a job.  I'm working on myself, trying to take the time (because I have so much of it anyway) to really listen to my inner voice.  My inner voice that tells me, "I'm bored...".  

What's a girl to do?  Sit in a coffeeshop and update her blog, I guess.  Maybe I'll get adventurous and do something with pictures.  Maybe someone will walk up and give me a job spontaneously.  Maybe I'll...find some ice cream.  Yeah, I can handle that task.  

Beaucoup de larmes

It's 5 in the morning. I just said goodbye to so many wonderful friends here in Nancy...other assistants I won't see again before I leave. I danced the night away with them...those people who have shared nearly all of my experiences here with me. We laughed and joked, twisted and got low. And then we hugged and said goodbye. I may never see them again. We are spread out on four different continents. I love meeting people from all over the world, but it makes it so hard to say goodbye.

Adieu, mes amis!
-Cindy

My Inner Child Drags Her Feet

It’s been cloudy and rainy here in Nancy for the past two days and I have slept the better part of them. Not completely sure why. My trip was tiring, but not that exhausting. No, I’m beginning to think my body accepts the sleep so my subconscious can work through the upcoming changes in my life. My mind accepts the sleep so as to escape reality.

But today I woke up and the sun was shining brightly. It’s as if God decided to shine a spotlight on His world and say, “Hey, this is beautiful. I dare you to stay holed up in your room another day!” And so I finally went to buy some groceries. And it was beautiful. Breathtakingly so. If you out there in cyber land are lucky, I may take a picture today and add it to this post.

I walked through the park to get to the grocery store. Some children were playing and this blond wisp of a thing was running when she tripped and fell. She sort of looked at the ground in front of her, wondering if she really felt like crying. She did. I kept walking, resisting the instinctual mother gene to run over and pick her up and hug her, since a stranger rushing up and hugging you is more terrifying than helpful. As I heard her plaintive wail that clearly said, “I’m hurt, come and reassure me that it’s okay.” I felt an overwhelming need to sob too. It came so suddenly and I still don’t know if it was because I’m leaving and I will miss this beautiful place, if I fear I can’t find a job and an apartment, or if I’m simply grieving for the change and loss that inevitably comes with it.

Back home and looking at job listings, I feel my procrastination kick in. It’s a sulky child saying, “No! I don’t want to apply for jobs right now! You can’t make me!” But what I realized is, I’m afraid. Afraid I’m not good enough, afraid I don’t deserve happiness and success, afraid my past happiness and success was a fluke.

And then I read my dear friend Mona’s blog and she gives me so much inspiration. I don’t feel so stupidly alone and isolated. There is someone else besides me who has trouble leaving the horizontal position in the morning! I can’t wait to come back home and talk to friends about stuff again. I’m so over hanging out with myself.

I think I’ll leave my damp, dark little dungeon this afternoon, go to a café and write silly postcards to friends I haven’t seen in months. Le soleil. Un café. And maybe some red lipstick, just because.

A Natural Response

I'm back from the awesome European tour with my parents. Guess who told herself she wouldn't be all mopey and dejected when she got back to Nancy because her parents just left, Natalie is gone and Pedro is in Italy still. Guess who gave herself a list of things to do so she wouldn't gaze out at the cloudy sky and sigh.

Guess who ended up sitting in bed eating chocolate this morning.

Song of the Day: Comin' Home -Lynyrd Skynyrd

N'importe quoi!

Hello blog world. Today I feel like sharing a word with you. Whatever. Simply that, whatever. What do I mean by that, you ask? It's funny...I don't really know. Am I expressing doubt? Disgust? Disinterest? Am I criticizing the attitude of someone else or does it reflect my own? You never really know, and this is the beauty of the world "whatever".



The nearest French equivalant that I've found is "n'importe quoi". However, I don't think there are as many vague meanings with this expression like there are in English. I tend to say it in response to the actions of someone else. Like, "They'll do whatever!" which means this person is basically ridiculous or mentally unsound. I really like this expression and I say it quite often, even when it perhaps doesn't really fit the context. Small example of a conversation where I mis-use this phrase:



Person (in French): ...and then she went to the grocery store, with her kids.

Me: N'importe quoi!



And then the person gives me a weird look. Because I can say this French phrase relatively well, but have no idea how to use it. Oops.

Whatever.

A River Ran Through It

The ancient building of this school has finally betrayed us. But more Natalie than me.

When we first arrived we wondered why our sinks made such ridiculous noises. Gurgling and glugging. Everytime someone used the sink in one room to wash our faces or our underwear (okay, that was only me, and only because I couldn't be bothered to walk all the way to the laudrymat and spend 3.20euros) there would be an awful stench bubbling up from someone else's sink. Not pleasant, but also not life threatening. And recently, for about the last month, anytime we've used our sinks it's taken a bit longer than normal for the water to flow out. Also a pain, but nothing we couldn't deal with for a few more weeks. Natalie's sink was the worst, with dirty water hanging around for a good twenty minutes after she brushed her teeth. But she's leaving at the end of March to begin school again back in Cologne. So she thought she could leave it until she was gone.

But then the water refused to go anywhere. Period. Just sat in her sink, a swirling puddle of toothpaste and soap. So she talked with our friend Dominique. Dominique is in charge of the "internat" (boarding school) and has before told us that he has all the keys to everyone's room. He says this with a wicked look in his eye, like he's going to come and spy on us in the showers. But really we know he can't be bothered to leave his office and climb all eight flights of stairs to get to our rooms, so we had to go find him in order to solve this little problem. He sent a funny little repair man, who putzed around in Natalie's room all afternoon and finally came to the conclusion that everything was blocked. Quite content with this discovery, he went home. And left the foul-smelling pipe open. Natalie had instructions to clean out her closet because they'd have to take the whole thing apart the next day.

This was already unpleasant enough, when she noticed her carpet kept getting wetter, and wetter. And the horrible, noxious smell got worse and worse. We began dissembling her carpet squares and carrying them into the hallway. It was then that we made the discovery that anytime anyone in our section of the school used their water, it ALL flowed into Natalie's room. In toxic puddles. We communicated to everyone in our 5-year-old French that they could not, under ANY circumstances, use their water. Still, we had our hands full when first me, then Pedro forgot and used their sinks anyway. I had to literally put tape over my sink so I wouldn't use it.

After washing all her carpet squares in the showers and propping them up to dry, Natalie moved her mattress into my room. The girl was quite a trooper and to end the day well we watched Madagascar and ate chocolate. In fact, we ate the chocolate I bought to send to a certain boyfriend. My dear roommate was in need and it was sacrificed for a good cause. (Plus she even bought you some more, Ben, so no worries:)

Today the funny French repairmen came back and worked their magic. They tore apart Natalie's room, but then they put it back together again and she was able to re-install her carpet that thankfully does not smell like an outhouse anymore. All the sinks work and I even still have the key to the secret, special bathroom they let us use!! (basically where they keep the vacuum). Nothing smells bad and another day in France ends with chocolate.

PS: Also, HAPPY BIRTHDAY to my Dad!!! Aren't you glad you didn't have major plumbing problems to deal with today?

Thought of the Day

Must really fit in those remaining yoga sessions. Good for soul, good for body...also good for learning what different parts of the body are called in French.

More Entertaining Than Reality

I've been having dreams up the wazoo lately. Last week when I was in Berlin visiting my friend Jessica, I had the coolest dreams every morning in the half-haze before consciousness. In one I was a model-in-training and Tyra Banks was my coach. She told me I wasn't intense enough in my photo shoot. Another night I saved the world. I do that quite a lot in my dreams, actually. Single-handedly save the world.

When I got back to Nancy the dreams followed me. Saturday morning I dreamed that my friend Fatma was engaged and gave me a pink bracelet, all while we were being moved to another army camp. She kept speaking English and I kept speaking French. This morning I dreamed that my parents were with me in Berlin (which looked more like Rome, but whatever) and we were searching everywhere for a cabbage. When we at last found one, we went out into the street and found so much money on the ground that we could use it to pay for our train tickets. (This would never happen in Germany, btw. The trains are EXPENSIVE!!!) We found 2.5 euro coins, and 6 euro coins. It was awesome.

I can't wait to go back to sleep tonight, and sleep in tomorrow. Whatever awaits me in the world of my subconscious, it's way more exciting that the world of Lycee Loritz. I hope I'm a queen tonight!

Thought of the Day

The inhabitants of Nancy need more Aretha Franklin in their lives.

Waiting

I've come to the realization that I'm sitting here in Nancy, France waiting. Just waiting. Waiting to go to my next class, waiting to go on another little trip, waiting, ulimately, to go home. This is not good. One shouldn't spend all their time waiting. It's important to live in the present. And waiting disconnects you from the present.

It's not that I don't like it here. I've actually experienced many necessary things, leading to a better understanding of myself. I mean, as far as personal growth goes, these months in France rocked. So it was necessary and I'm sure this process isn't over yet. But I feel that I've learned enough, thanks, and would like to come back home now. Which leads me to waiting.

The problem is that I don't have nearly enough to do. Granted, everything in France seems to take more time (for me anyway). It takes 20 min to walk to the grocery store to buy only what can fit into a few bags, which then have to be carried all the way home and up four flights of stairs. Going to the doctor could mean an hour wait or more. Trying to find where on earth they sell peanutbutter could take an afternoon. And yet...I'm BORED. There is not enough to fill my time. I suppose I could do more for my classes...but I find that when I do the very minimum the professors are singing my praises. Anything more would seem like overkill.

Clearly I'm looking for excuses. I just remember being so much more productive when I had 20 credits and my thesis paper due and I also worked. All of this inactivity brings me back to waiting. I have the GIFT of time! Something I may not have much of in the future, I'm well aware. And yet, I am wasting this gift. Must fill this time with something meaningful. Must have a goal. I'm always asking my students what their goals are Sometimes they're quite clever and they turn the question onto me. And then I give them the same blank look they like to give me.

Right. Goals. I feel sheepish about how I don't stay in contact with the people I love. I also realize I don't ever, ever update this blog. So yeah, could work on those things.