Switzerland!

After my rambling tour of the south of France (I should call it 'There and Back Again,' as I went to Biarritz/Bayonne/Seignosse and promptly came back to Provence), I find myself in Geneva, and I'm in love! Absolutely no night life to speak of, (though my Malaysian-via-London friend and I tried to go out on a Sunday night, granted), but it's gorgeous and soooo international! I went to the UN today and jizzed my pants over the assembly rooms, the art, and the totally cute Uruguayan tour guide/Ph.D student in int'l law (he led the English tour, of all crazy things). I can see myself there, on at least an internship, rocking the international scene and brainsolving the solutions to all the world's problems, or something along those lines. As these things go...

I hiked around a 'hill' (we'll call it that, since the Alps were in the background and 1000-something meters just doesn't quite compare) yesterday with Fwi Mee, the Malaysian woman I met at breakfast. She's amazing! Works 9 months in London and then travels 3 months every year, everywhere, a.k.a. living the dream! The hill was technically in France, so we crossed the border, rode the cable car/funicular thing up the side, and at the top saw parasailers taking off and hiked around. We even saw a 4 and a half year old Heidi!

Last night at the dead Irish pub we went to, we met a Thai girl who married a Swiss man. They both said to go to Thailand, so I think SE Asia is my 'next big thing.' I hope I run into Fwi Mee again someday, somewhere...she was too fun not to!

Today I also went to the Red Cross Museum, which they should seriously warn you about. Shit! Did you know that since it was started in 1850-something, not a year has gone by without at least a couple armed conflicts somewhere in the world that resulted in at least 10,000 deaths?!?!?!? Either wars, civil wars, takeovers, genocides, or my favorite, "internal troubles," as it said in French, and that's not to mention any disease outbreaks or natural disasters...there should have been a sign outside saying: "Expect to cry. This is holocaust museum-level shit here."

In brief...

Biarritz: wandered around this 'Nice-of-the-west' as I've christened it, for 8 hours. Beautiful (but too small and crowded) beaches, nice shopping, &c, &c, &c. Saw a sweet Lipschitz exhibit, (he was a sculptor, friend of Picasso, and if you can find pictures of 'The couple' also known as 'The Cry,' look it up and prepare to be blown away!), the best part of which was that I saved a bunch of money saying I was a student and getting the discounted ticket price. I'm continuing with that theme, as I'm A. young enough to be a student, and B. planning on being a student again, someday, C. poorish at the moment, and D. and most importantly, I am and always will be a 'student of life,' as it were.

Sète: little known on-the-Med French town that was breathtakingly gorgeous and boring. The hostel was full of old people or un-fun youngins, and was miles away from the train station...thanks to a nice French woman on the way there and a Belgian guy on the way back, both with cars, I was spared the worst part of the hill with all of my crap.

Pertuis: small typical French town whose best claim to fame is that my good friends Whitney and Jen live there. It's also cool that it's just a half hour bus ride out of Aix-en-Provence, a shishy wanna-be Paris near Marseille.

Avignon: since I was in the neighborhood, I had to make a stop. In less than 24 hours, I saw some of my best friends in France, Sarah and Steve, and another play (festival's still on, you know; this one was Tim Burton-esque). Perfection.

The Whole Story. The Month of Crazy

I knew this month was going to be exciting, but I didn't quite realize how exciting. It began with moving out of the apartment I had lived in for the past 9 months, throwing stuff, giving some away, and hanging on to more than I should. The family in Seignosse who I would be au pairing for contacted me via email and said they didn't need me until the 11^th of July. No problem. I stuck around Avignon until then and caught the beginning of the world-famous Avignon theater festival, of which I'd been hearing since the day I arrived on the scene, late last September.

I saw 6 plays and only paid for one of them (now that's the way to see a theater festival)! Two of them were final dress rehearsals at the Theatre Etincelle, the theater where Sarah has an internship this month. One of them wasn't all that good (a period piece about convincing a beautiful country girl to fall out of love with the foolish nobody who had won her heart and into love with the local prince...uninspired, dreary, and all the actors were too old...one of the love interests was balding!), and one of them was pretty decent (three guys, talking about and doing random shit). In one line, they gushed about what a fate it would be to spend an eternity in a theater seat! In another, they urged one to be the creaky floorboard on the stage. It resonates, it dares, you can dance and sing... The director of the theater asked us to stay afterwards and congratulate the actors, as some audience members had left halfway through the performance (and being that the audience was only a handful of people, it was noticeable).

Zandra, Sarah and I paid to see a play called Ronald, the clown of McDonald's & I bought a shovel at Ikea to dig my grave, or something along those lines. Three actors, kooky commentary on consumer culture. It was dark and delicious and yeah, we've heard it all before. Then Sarah snuck us into two shows at her theater on the opening day (by now Zandra and I were familiar faces around there). We saw an adaptation of Romeo & Juliet that would try to be funny, but never quite got there, and would always pull back to being serious. They stuck too close to the original, in my opinion, and the final scene was them lying there, dead. No wrap-up speeches or nothing. AND, I'm sorry, but practically every man in the play was tolerably cute except Romeo! He was sweaty and goofy and looked about 12 years old. I was careful not to be too critical, though, as the writer of the thing was there in the audience! The best part was when a gel fell from a light onto an audience member...classic!

My favorite show at Sarah's theater was called The Operation of the Holy Spirit. Set in Heaven, Mary full of grace was played by a man in drag, Jesus was SOOO gay, and Gabriel ran around singing and squeaking in a very high-pitched voice. At one point God gives the angels penises to lower their voices, and Gabriel starts chasing Mary, so he takes them back. It was kooky and awesome, in a very good way.

One of the best parts of the festival is walking around the streets during the day. You see all sorts of troupes of actors singing and demonstrating and handing out fliers to come see their show. One of the fliers I got was actually a free invitation for two people. So Jeff and I went and saw Rockstar, an amazing one man show about...everything and nothing, as these things go. For part of the time the dude was in his own brain, meeting different people on the different levels. It was awesome, and totally worth the price!

On Monday, July 6^th Jeff convinced Zandra and I to ride our bikes to Les Beaux de Provence to catch Stage 3 of the Tour de France! He estimates we rode about 60-75 km round trip, all told. Which is really nothing compared to the almost 200km Lance et al rode that day, when you think that it's still going on and they're still riding up mountains and crazy shit! We met some American army dudes who are stationed in Germany right now, and I got lured into being interviewed by some dudes with a camera and microphone who asked leading questions about whether I thought Lance dopes or not. I ended up comparing him to Batman, training himself to physical perfection and all that. We got some free shit in the parade that comes around before the racers (sausages, crackers, candy, beer opener, stupid hats, glasses wipe) and we looked ridiculously awesome with Jeff's 6-foot American flag. I know I saw Lance, (he was in the peleton), but I couldn't pick him out as I tried to take a picture and it was all over in a matter of seconds. Overall, a pretty good day (even though my butt was really sore afterwards).

Continuing my typical French experiences, on July 10^th I headed to Carcassonne, one of the coolest castle/fortresses in Europe. Very touristy, very awesome. I was going to take myself out to a nice dinner to celebrate my getting paid finally by the commie French government to help out with my rent for the past 6 months, but instead I ended up staying at the hostel and drinking my dinner with a rag-tag bunch of 'Europeans' late into the night. There was John from England, the hostel barkeep, Mathias from Germany, Cairan from Ireland, (pronounced Kir-on), Vincente from Spain (who was going to do part of the Santiago de Compostollo pilgrimage and was trying to convince me to join him...in hindsight I should have said yes), two Belgians who were also pilgrims (although they were more serious about it), two other Belgians who looked like twins, matching blue shirts and shiny bald heads, and later on a Danish guy and Nick from Canada joined us for awhile. It was one of the best hostel times I've ever had, and made me fall in love with 'the Europe' even more (they made fun of me, referring to Europe as we Americans tend to do, as one entity). I need to get one of them to marry me, if only for the treasured EU citizenship!

The next day I headed to Seignosse, outside of Bayonne, which is outside of Biarritz, to be an au pair. Marnie is 2 and adorable, Stephanie (the mom) is gorgeous and pregnant, and Stu (the dad) is English/South African and owns a hip little surfer joint called the Cream Cafe, right off the beach. Well, there was a miscommunication about September (I changed my departure from the 14^th to the 4^th without telling them until I got here), which was apparently a deal breaker for Stephanie, so she found another au pair and told me two days ago that the new au pair was coming yesterday. Yeah, she gave me 24 hours notice that I was jobless and homeless for the next two months. I freaked out and started desperately looking around (I even called John from Carcassonne about any leads in the hostel biz, and called the hostel in Sete and said my friend John told me they might need someone...unfortunately the dude wasn't looking for anymore foreigners...damn I need that EU citizenship)! Within hours I had many welcoming friends with many couches and one au pair gig for the month of August. I've decided to take it, so I'm going to be an au pair in Normandy for a 20 month old boy...ah! A little young, but I (hopefully!) can handle it. I was hurt and mad at first, but actually I think it's for the best. Stephanie was kind of a bitch and very particular (I had to iron Stu's t-shirts so he 'wouldn't look like a gypsy' according to her), and I think I'm going to be happier with my new plans. Which are?

I'm in a hotel in Bayonne for two more nights (the weather is gray and gross and windy and rainy right now...I think I'm going to go to a movie by myself tonight...sad!), then off to Sete for two nights, and that hostel I tried to get a job at (hopefully they forgot that an 'Annette' called them a few days ago...). I've heard Sete is nice, and it looks pretty...then to see Whitney in Pertuis, (which is good...it would have been sad to go back to the states without seeing her again), back to Avignon for probably half a day (where my deposit check for my apartment will hopefully be waiting for me with Sarah), then to Geneva to visit my old roommate Xuan from China, who's currently doing an internship with the World Health Organization! I've never been to Switzerland, and it's about darn time! As the saying goes...when life gives you lemons, find someone whose life gave them vodka. I'm making martinis out of these lemons! July 2009 will forever be known as 'The Month of Crazy' by me and my close associates.

Then I'll head to Normandy (I don't even know exactly where yet...I'll talk to the woman on the phone later today) for a month of hanging with a baby. Somewhere in there Aunt Robin and my cousin Reid will swing through. After that, around my mom's birthday (the 25^th of August), I'm planning on heading up to the UK, to hang with my pals Ruth and Simon and party our asses off until my flight on September 4^th to Cambodia to visit my dad! So you see, as my godmother Irene always says: it all works out when you let it!

Rushing Around, Keeping Busy, Doing Things

As I'll be changing locales soon, I've been packing as many adventures and good times into my schedule as possible!

Last Wednesday: Sarah, Steve, Zandra and I headed to Armand's parent's house in Tavel, home of France's #1 rosé. Apero (pastis for me, as usual), great BBQ, great local wine grateful Frenchies (Armand's dad thanked us for our ancestors' kick-ass bang-up job in Normandy, on a June 6th way back when...we said, "Uh, you're welcome?"), the sun, a pool...idyllic. The day ended with Steve scootin' me home...did I live that day or did I dream it?

Thursday: Party chez Julie, the Arizonan mom-of-a-5-year-old-1/2-Frenchy who lives here in L'Isle. The party guests were 3 English truck drivers (one of them Charlie, my 2-doors-down neighbor), 2 North Carolinian girls from Peace University (no joke) who were "studying abroad" in L'Isle sur la Sorgue (what?!?!? In a 20,000 person tourist trap in rural France? Yeah, that's what I thought...), and a partridge in a pear tree! We sat on Julie's sweet terrace drinking wine, laughing, getting drunk, and eating good eats late into the eve. Then I had to wake up and teach the next day. Suck!

Friday was my last day of teaching little kids! I checked out weeks ago, so this was a VERY welcome turn of events! I got some presents from some of my students (a cell phone sock and some sweet black and red feather earrings), and it's true I'll miss the little buggers, but I'm stoked to be officially en vacances!

This last weekend was Avignon's first pride festival (I think), and I was there! I saw part of the parade (yeah tourist trains finally being put to good use!), and got bubbled (it was basically a foam party in the street), but other than that, it was pretty underwhelming. San Francisco it ain't! We went to L'Esclave Saturday night (translation: The Slave), but there were too many people (among them too many straight American girls...didn't my friends and I have a monopoly on that??), and I wasn't rockin' the Sardine scene. [Though I was rockin' my new H&M dress with parrots on it...my mom sends me 6 fab dresses in the mail and what do I go and do? Buy another one...I'm a mess...a hot mess!] Plus we ran into a confused French friend, (cruising solo but has a girlfriend...uh huh, that'll last), and as Steve says: "It's annoying when people don't accept themselves." So we went home and I promptly fell asleep.
Like I said, underwhelmed. Maybe the gayest part of the whole day was all the Michael Jackson music videos we watched. And that's not a comment on MJ's sexuality or alleged pedophilia, but rather on his fashion sense...that man can dress himself! Rest in peace Michael, and thanks for Ben, my new favorite song...oh those homicidal rats!

Today, Sunday, was another spectacular day, beginning around noon. Zandra and I woke up and promptly ordered all our friends over to Zandra's house for coffee...and to bring food. So in short order we had baguettes, pain au chocolats, and croissants at our fingertips, and we hadn't lifted a finger (unless you count texting)! I bought Carly's bike for 15 euro because the bike I'd borrowed from one of my teachers was stolen...and I felt bad. [Plus I have to even out my karma: I broke a pinkey swear I made to a couple kids on Friday promising them to come to their end of the year spectacle and raffle...sleep was just way more important.] So Jeff and I had bikes, Steve and Zandra had a scooter, and Sarah had a train (well, she could catch one). We all headed to L'Isle sur la Sorgue. That's right, I rode a bike from Avignon to L'Isle sur la Sorgue! That's like 22 kilometers (or about 13 1/2 miles)! WOOT WOOT! I'm so proud! I had thought about doing that before I came here, but then I saw how far it is, and how big that hill by Chateauneuf de Gadagne is...which today I made my bitch!

Once here, we got ice cream and walked to Partage des Eaux. On the way we saw water jousting! Jousting, on boats, in the river! None of us had seen anything quite so simultaneously ridiculous, amazing, bizarre, and stupid before. Oh these L'Islois! It was kind of like this, only minus the music, and the boats we saw were motorized.

What's next? Two days of cleaning, packing, recycling, distributing of things to their old or new owners, mailing my modem back to my internet provider, checking out of my apartment, and by Tuesday night I'll be in Avignon again! Last week I got an email from my summer family (the family for which I'll be au pair-ing this summer) that something came up and they don't need me until July 11th. So I'll be living with Patrick (South African/Irish Settlers aficionado, among other things...therefore, cool as shit) for about a week and hopefully catching the beginning of the Avignon theater festival I've been hearing about for 9 months. Sarah, Zandra, Patrick, Jeff and I will be crying into our beers, missing Steve like crazy by that point. Then I'm hoping to head to Carcassonne (really old French fort action, ho hum) on my way to Biarritz (well technically Seignosse, a beach town a bit north of Biarritz). Phew! This adventure continues...

16 Days and Counting!

Being one who aspires to live for today, I usually try to focus on the moment, here and now. But JUNE! Students and teachers alike across the Northern Hemisphere must feel my pain and agree that June is the slowest, hottest, ickiest, stickiest, most antagonizing and desperate of months. One can't help but dream about how great July will be, lament that it isn't here already, and count the days, hours, and minutes until it gets here!

I have been spending my days dragging myself from cup of coffee to cup of coffee to nap, living for my evenings (spent avoiding sleep with a book or my favorite news websites) and weekends, which are always over too fast, even when I skip Friday, like I did last week. June weekends are all about reconnecting with friends I don't want to lose after we part, and making sure I exploit the locales (Lyon, the banks of the Sorgue, the patch of grass above the Rhone my friends and I have shanghai'd from couples in love) which I will miss terribly the second they're out of my reach (well, except for Lyon). And it's only the 14th! Not-quite-but-almost halfway through this hellish nightmare. I am dreading everything about the next two weeks: packing, showing off my apartment to possible future residents (um, doing my rental agency's job???), shutting down accounts, getting my mail forwarded (can/do they even do that here???), working (ugh! still! i'm not clear yet!), cleaning, throwing things away, checking out of my apartment (what will she say about my broken bed and window?), and not to mention (dramatic pause and inhale): saying good bye to the people who have made this year...well, what it was. I won't complain too much, c'est la vie, after all. And I will shortly have Carcassonne, Biarritz, surfing, and eventually Cambodia with my dad to keep me occupied.

In honor of this impending change, things France has taught me (or rather, things I feel I've learned, or learned better, in the past year; France doesn't deserve all the credit, not a chance):

• How to be alone and like it. I love curling up with my computer or a good book (or a good miniseries!) for hours on end.
• How to be well-informed. What am I doing for hours on end online? Browsing Slate.com, thedailybeast, (in addition to MSNBC and CNN) or other people's blogs for the latest in news and opinions. Listening to the latest podcast of NPR's 'Wait Wait Don't Tell Me.' Crying if the internet wigs out. (Credit goes to Whitney and Steve for turning me on to these)
• That teaching is hard. And (probably) not for me in the long run.
  
• That being an American is cool again, or more accurately, that I enjoy being an American (thank you Obama and crew, Jon Stewart & Stephen Colbert, staples in my life as much as any 'real' news, and no thanks to Sarah Palin). Also, being an American gets you things, like border crossings within the EU where you should have had your passport but didn't...
• How to cook...a little. I can sautee veggies, boil noodles, use herbes de provence on everything, and make a bravas sauce. It's a start!
• That I'm not going to be friends with everyone I meet. Obvious. But still, a lesson driven home a lot recently. It pays to be discriminating: the good friends are REALLY good, and worth the time, effort, energy, thought. The others...will always be there, and are not worth getting too worked up about.
• That fresh market produce is always, ALWAYS better. Worth the difference in price. Worth planning out my shopping a little better (ok, I'm still working on that second part).
  
• That Oregon isn't inherently bad just because I'm from there. I'm really excited about coming home in the fall.

Annette, new and improved, everyday.

A Good Day

Didn't Peter Mayle write a book, that eventually became a movie starring Russell Crowe, called A Good Year? (Answer: yes...oh that omnipresent Peter Mayle! He's everywhere here in Provence. I don't think I'll be able to read any of his stuff until I'm old, immobile, and have nothing else to do but romantically reminisce about my fabulous year in Provence-I think it'd be overload to read him now)

Anyways, my life on Sunday reminded me of this movie I've never seen:

The day started out bleakly: grey and too early. Steve, Zandra and I caught a 9am bus from Avignon to L'Isle, where we wandered around the infamous market and got drenched when the foreboding clouds finally burst. Then we disgruntledly tromped out to one of my teachers' homes, where we picked up her car which she generously lent us for the day to discover the nearby countryside. But only after drinking coffee and chatting it up with her for awhile, and learning that Provencaux are pretentious bastards, and the main reason she's so nice and friendly and welcoming to me is because she's originally Parisienne. (Suddenly, much about the last 9 months makes sense...)

Gordes
We made our way to Gordes, one of the most beautiful cities in France (according to themselves, of course, and some official list). We ate our picnic in the car because it was still drizzly (spicy olives, bread, goat cheese, strawberries, apricots, does it get any better?). We walked around. I saw a snail.

Rousillon
Known for ocres (ochre? ocre), brilliantly bright red/orange/yellow sand/dirt from which they extract fabric and paint dyes. We couldn't have planned it better: just as we were walking through the ocre park, and commenting on how it felt like we had been transported out of France, the sun decided to gloriously appear, making the breathtaking natural wonders even more breathtaking.

Apt
Underwhelming, but we stumbled onto some carny-infested, teeny-bopping, ghetto-ass fair in the middle of town, complete with a D-level parade with pirates on stilts, the Marquis de Sade, and an olive princess that entertained us for a time (yum churros).

Bonnieux
A drive-by photo-op, but I can say I've been there, done that!

Lacoste
Ditto.

Faire le stop
To top it all off, we got the car back to Dominique, a queen among women, right around the time the last train was leaving for Avignon. Let it get us down? Never! Zandra proposed we hitchhike the 20-odd kilometer trek, and so we did! The first guy took us only to the next town over, the second guy (originally from Reunion, an island off the coast of Madagascar) took us almost all the way, and then a young woman (about our age) drove us to the city walls. We are rockstars! Then we made enchiladas and watched some more of the greatest miniseries of all time: Angels in America.

Today Robyn (American baker) drove me and a Japanese pastry chef interning with her husband for a few days around Les Alpilles, and we checked out Les Beaux. Hooray for checking things off the list! Now I just need to get to the Chateau d'If (I've been here going on 9 months and still haven't gotten down there!), and I'll be content.

Little Town Life

When I look back on my year in L'Isle sur la Sorgue...well let's just say I think I'll be rocking some metropolitan areas for awhile! Little towns would be nice if I had a family and a job/career and was looking to 'settle down,' but as a 23 yr old unattached adventure-seeker...well, I've found some adventures here, I suppose.

A favorite moment was last Saturday, showing a big group of friends around my town, and running into not 1 but 2, er, 'exes.' I see students I know on the street, at the pool, in the store, and what's worse, they see me, and feel the need to inform me that over the weekend they saw me by the river, or in Avignon, or running. I love being a celebrity with the town's under-12 population, but I always feel awkward when they explain to their parents who the stranger is they're saying 'hello' to.

And what would life be without a randy old PE teacher who tells sexually explicit jokes and all but propositions me, even though I've met his son and teach his grandson? At least he's cute, (retired pro soccer player!) and not creepy, like another teacher who always insists on giving me the slowest gooiest 3 kisses in greeting whenever he sees me, and then crows about how great it is to kiss me. Blech! HE looks like a bad guy in a cartoon: bald with a Hitler moustache, no joke. Would it be completely over the line for me to invite PE teacher out for a drink? I could say it's to celebrate his upcoming retirement this June...Annette, what's wrong with this picture? Or rather, how many things can you find that are wrong with this picture?

Then there was the awkward, never-ending, 'surprise' Tupperware party I attended...'just some friends getting together to make a meal' should apparently be read as ' 6+ hours of Tupperware HELL' from now on. Thank goodness my town has a bar! The sole bar in town, which I was explaining to some random French guy today that I know quite well. Last Friday night I saw a random American friend there with some guy she'd just picked up (who just got out of prison, no joke, though I don't know what for...), and left a note for the barkeep, which, being drunk, probably sounded a bit more explicit than I intended. Oops! ;)

I've also got to give props to my American friends just a short train-ride away in the 'big city' of Avignon. If I didn't have them to escape to, I probably would have cracked long ago. Last weekend included a Eurovision watching party (I voted for Germany, but Norway won...with good reason...I can't get that song out of my head even if I wanted to!), the most delicious picnic I've ever eaten (spicy olives, amazing goat cheese with pepper, fresh baguette, and cherries 3x as big as any other cherry I've ever seen in my life), and slaloming the Pont d'Avignon in a kayak with Steve, for free! I just went into my property manager's office today (whose daughter works at one of the schools I work at...did I mention it was a small town?) to figure out what I need to do in a little over a month to get out of here. Sad day! I know I'm going to miss this place...it's great to be adored by kids and their grandfathers alike!

I've been thinking alot lately about where my next adventure will be...who knows? Hopefully something will present itself! Until then, I'm cooking for myself (tonight was chicken, onions, broccoli in a white wine + herbes de Provence 'sauce'); making the most of random Catholic holidays (this weekend it's Ascension? Does that sound right? On the agenda: chill at swanky Olympic-sized private pool/lounge, eat hippy food, attend concert in the park, party with friends, make an appearance or two at the bar, among other things...); racking up credit card debt like I won't have to pay it off (and who knows? Maybe I won't...maybe the good Lord will call me back to be with him before I have to deal with that!); and SLEEPING!

Provence and the Cote d'Azur with my mom

A whirlwind 9 days, involving many adventures, including (why do I always 'devolve' into lists? Or maybe I'm just being efficient and organized...whatever, it works for me, so, why mess with a good thing, right?):

• Cheap Chinese with friends! Who can argue with a delicious 5 euro meal, surrounded by the people you love?
• Ancient Greek theatre in Orange (one of only 3 in the world that still has its stage wall...the other 2 are in Syria and...somewhere else...)
• Buying WAY-too-expensive-wine in Chateauneuf-du-Pape (the classic "we were had!" tourist moment of which I always make sure to have at least one on any given trip...hey, the woman said her friend was friends with Sharon Stone and George Clooney!)
• Falling in love (on my part) with a strip of road inbetween Orange and Vaison la Romaine. OMG, I think I'll live there someday, humbly tending my hectares upon hectares of vineyard, with my big buff rugged vignoblier of a husband running around doing all the actual work, while I drink near half our product!
• The 'Infamous' Kayak trip from Fontaine de Vaucluse to L'Isle sur la Sorgue. Infamous because my mom and I fell in, and when we did (we didn't realize until later), the keys to the rental car fell OUT of my mom's swimsuit...we were stranded, no money, no food, no nothing, for hours, while we waited for a replacement car...hey, at least we were in a beautiful locale and got some sun!
• Massages at a super swanky spa in Aix-en-Provence. Bringing my mom's total experience of Aix to: a super swanky spa. And mine: one night out, never seeing the city in daylight, and the super swanky spa. Even though it was dripping with swank, the jacuzzi was tepid at best. We rocked the sauna, hammam, and chillaxing lounge (complete with headsets of calming music, comfy couches, a waterfall, a tank of fish, girly magazines, and handwipes(?)) before getting one of the best massages of my life. An iPod shuffle kept the chillaxing music going, and we smelled all coconutty when we were done.
• Nice! A cheese-meat-crackers-buckets of wine picnic in our hotel room with Colleen and Steve the first night, the three corniches the next! We zipped all over, including over the very same twists and turns where Grace Kelly crashed and died. We pealed out of Monaco (literally, burned rubber and made some police turn around and see what was going on), saw an old Roman monument, ate paninis in Cap Ferrat, a droolingly gorgeous 'almost-island' (presque-ile), and picked up some perfume from Grasse.
• The drive that would never end! Nice to Marseille, all along the coast. It took about 8 hours. It was all...GORGEOUS! The Cote d'Azur is where I was meant to live, I think.
• The Chateau d'If (of Count of Monte Cristo fame) wasn't open (bad weather conditions), so we took the ferry out to the other islands and had a pretty typical sunny-day-on-an-island afternoon: we ate sandwiches and spread my grandparents' ashes. All in a day's...vacation!
• Notre Dame de la Garde. In hindsight, we should have just taken a taxi (my mom's no spring chicken, after all). But, I was evil and made her hike all the way up! The views and the amazing mosaics were that much sweeter for it.
• More wine!

It was a fabulous good time! I was EXHAUSTED, and completely NOT ready to return to crazy little kids. Oh well, I'm keepin' on keepin' on, (even though I got my computer fixed yesterday, to the tune of 75 euros, and absolutely NONE of the files could be saved...6 years of college papers, pictures, and music...gone. I'm not as devastated as you might expect...I look on it as a cleansing, really...and I've got some hard-A on hand for when it really sinks in), and trying to make summer plans (I'm thinking: au pair for a cool family, by the beach somewhere...oh yeah...)

Note to a Neighbor (who'll never get it)

All I wanted tonight was for you to come over and be polite and social. For 5 minutes. True, part of the reason I texted these 3 (French) (boy) friends (who I just met in the bar last week) earlier this evening was because I was with you and your friend at his house and I (just a teensy weensy bit) wanted to make you jealous. I don't know why you didn't come over tonight (because you were busy 'composing' or 'mixing' or whatever, so you said), but I hope (is it sick and wrong for me to hope this?) that you were just a teensy weensy bit jealous. Good. Welcome to my life the last few nights over the last week or so that I've felt obligated to hang out at yours with you and yours and felt like I was fighting back tears the whole time. I am SO over you, but it took last weekend with an opera, cheap Chinese, and really, really good friends to make me 100% all-the-way-over-you-FOR-SURE sure about that. So I don't understand why you couldn't come over for all of 5 minutes tonight like a friendly neighborly neighbor-friend should have. And would have. I'm not angry, or sad, just...you should have come over. I went to your friend's tonight. It's only fair. Anyways, these new friends were only just short of fabulous. I'm hoping that some good times are ahead. A new group of friends (almost my age, in this tiny, full-of-old-people little town) would be refreshing and healthy and help me to mix things up a bit. You're not my life, and never were, as ego-stroking as that would be for you. I just got back from HOURS of hanging out with other friends than you. Playing petanque in the dark, and the rain, and drinking wine, and moving on, WITHOUT YOU! I wish that you felt a teensy weensy bit of what I do, (DID! that's all over now!), but I know you (most likely) don't. But maybe I"ll just pretend that you do. That could work. Asshole. I even taught you that word, 'asshole,' in English. I wonder if you realize how applicable it is to YOU! I hope so, for mine and all your future girls' sake. Asshole. I feel better after this, which is the only goal. See you soon.

The Opera in Avignon

I have had a great week! Last weekend, Steve came out to L'Isle on Friday night, and then Whitney and Jenn came to visit on Saturday. Saturday night we went out in Avignon, then Tuesday night I went back in to Avignon for the opera! We saw Les Contes d'Hoffman, and it was in French, which meant I understood approximately 25% of it (maybe closer to 33%). Thank goodness for wikipedia the night before so I knew the general plot arch! It was so nice and so classy, even if we were practically on the roof, on really uncomfortable benches, and sitting right behind a woman who proceeded to fall asleep and snore VERY LOUDLY in the third act. Bitch! That night I saw my future husband in my dreams. He was tall, dark and handsome (is there any other way to be?), and amazing. He wasn't anyone I've ever seen before, but I think when I meet him (someday), I'll know him. It was nice. The next day Steve and I bumbled about and saw Les Noces Rebelles, or, in English, Revolutionary Road, you know, the one with Kate Winslet and Leonardo DiCaprio. Oh, that one! It was fabulous, if horrendously depressing (we watched it dubbed in French so to be honest, I wasn't always sure exactly why they were yelling, but I could tell they were mad). It got me thinking about my life, and I hope I can realize some of my dreams, and don't turn into a holed-up housewife. But, I guess that remains to be seen. Then we went to Liz' birthday party last night where I drank copious amounts of wine and ended up confessing so many uncouth things I'm sure I would have earned the prize for "Most Shocking Revelations by a Party Guest," if such a prize existed. Then I slept in today (everyone was on strike, at least I'm assuming...), and made it back to L'Isle at around noon, just in time for my tutoring client. Then I dealt with some French bureaucratic bullshit (which is nothing out of the ordinary here), and then I did laundry, which usually sucks and it is honestly and literally one of my least favorite parts about life, but today it was different. TODAY, I put my laundry in the washing machine and it started on it's own. FREE LAUNDRY! Thank you, unknown, unseen benefactor, who bestowed a free wash on me! It was a bright spot, and if my week hadn't already been going splendidly, it would have been enough to turn it around! Tomorrow night, party chez moi, (I like how I invite my next door neighbor over and it transforms the evening from "Usual-Friday-night-fare-of-pre-funking-before-heading-to-the-one-pub-in-town" to a party)! Oh let me have my fun in my little town!

Out of Hibernation

Internet is lifeblood. I just got it in my apartment and I can't tell you how it's changed my life! Now instead of staring at each other across a game of cards, either Ruth or I are always online, facebooking or looking up funny videos of Russell Brand or reading about the Inauguration, or, if pressed, actually researching things to teach the little Frenchies, our charges.

The holidays were fabulous: highlights included seeing Simon, opening a bottle of wine as old as I was for Christmas eve, eating Christmas day dinner at the Four Seasons Hampshire, and watching bouncers break up no less than 6 fights on New Year's in Scunthorpe, (a.k.a. "deep" England). Class. It's how I roll.

Now I'm back in L'Isle, spending my time with my four tutoring clients, reading (just finished Le Compte de Monte Cristo in French, a mighty achievement of which I am quite proud), being sick (but on the up and up now!), thinking deeply about the future and what "the next step" is, or chilling at the one pub in town. Oh yeah, and I manage to actually work every now and again! Last weekend I got myself (and Ruth, by proxy) invited to a poker party chez some actual French people! It was quite fun, even though I lost tragically. I was mostly just excited to be in France and hanging with real Frenchies, which, ask anybody who's spent time here, is quite a victory!

Now I'm off to an Inauguration party in Avignon with some other Americans tonight, complete with hamburgers and champagne! Yaay Obama!

It rains in Provence!

Anybody who tells you differently is a liar! It's like springtime in Oregon here: sunny and hot one day, rainy and gray the next: I can't take it! I went running for the first time since I've been here yesterday, and it was great, along a beautiful country road that was just lovely. Then it rained a lot today and made me sad. Tomorrow I'm off to Marseille, to hopefully check out the Chateau d'If, the famed Alcatraz-esque prison from my favorite book of all time, The Count of Monte Cristo, which I am currently reading in French and is beyond fabulous! The day after tomorrow I'm taking a ferry to Tunisia, where I will: see my thesis professor Laura, hopefully ride a camel, and go to an all-night election party hosted by the US embassy! I'm so excited! Then on my birthday I will take a ferry back to Marseille...hopefully it will all work out! I'm broke, but I'm loving life and having some great adventures, so I can't really complain! As I said, though, life is not all sunshine: teaching is challenging, and not all the teachers are the most helpful of people. The other day one of the children even took the time to come over and tell me during recess that another kid was making fun of me. Precious! But overall, I'm learning how to cook and having crazy adventures at the one bar in my little town! Will keep you posted, if, as Stephanie says, anything happens in my life worth posting about! :) Love you all!

Moving to France

my mailing address:

Annette McFarland
9 Rue Autheman
Studio Nº 4
84800 L’Isle sur la Sorgue PACA
FRANCE

I have been in France for just over two weeks. In that time I have accomplished many things, had many fabulous unforgettable experiences, and had some crappy ones too.

Upon arrival, I was very proud that I was able to navigate a huge backpack, a suitcase, a purse and myself from the Charles De Gaulle airport onto the RER train, transfer to the metro, and make it to the Place d’Italie stop before calling William. The last time I was in France I paid too much for a taxi to an overpriced hostel. I stayed with William, his sister Aimee, brother-in-law Julien, and 1 ½ year old nephew Max. For two days I hung out at Aimee’s tea shop (in the 13^th arrondisement, it’s called L’Oisive Thé, a play on l’oisiveté which means leisurely). Then I bought a 12-25 card (to get discounts on trains) and a ticket to Lyon, where I stayed with my friend Maren for a night, eating bread and cheese and drinking wine and tea. Then on to Avignon and Steve, who is a dear. I ended up staying with him for over a week as I looked for an apartment in L’Isle sur la Sorgue and thought of options. My first day in Avignon was magical: the centre ville is completely surrounded by an old city wall, and anyone who’s anyone lives intramurales (Steve and I are afraid to go extramurales too often)... We saw a woman akin to Esmeralda singing opera outside of the Pope’s Palace.

One day Steve and I rode his scooter to Saint Remy (evidently a very posh area of France...Brad and Angelina just bought a house there), which is about 20 km southwest of Avignon. We went to see bullfighting, or rather “bull bothering” (they didn’t kill them). A dozen or so men would take turns running at the bull, trying to grab prizes off his horns. If the bull was chasing them they would vault themselves over a fence to get away from him. One bull kept leaping over the fence into the alley between the ring and the spectators. Everyone in the alley would jump into the ring until the bull was led back in. He did this about 10 times. One man yelled “Saucisson!” which means “Turn him into sausage!”

A few days later we had some meetings in Marseille. Steve had to be there a night before I did. I was hoping to get my apartment that day, but the process moved a little slower than I realized, so I was essentially homeless. As I was preparing myself to sleep on a park bench, I texted the one other person whose number I had. Megan from Wales was able to give me the phone number of another assistant, Raina, who without hesitation, without having met me, agreed to house me for the evening. As it turns out, Raina went to Reed, in Portland, and is amazing.

The most incredible experience I’ve had thus far was when the US Consulate General in Marseille hosted the American assistants from the Provence-Alpes-Cote d’Azur region for a multi-course buffet at her home overlooking the bay and the Chateau d’If, the prison in my favorite book, The Count of Monte Cristo. I scarfed down one plate of food and then jumped up to talk with the consulate general. She was amazing! I asked her dozens of questions about her career, her education, her life. She’s done tours in Haiti, Saudi Arabia and Morocco, among other places, and couldn’t really talk about Brad and Angelina, although she did say that after hobnobbing with Arabian princes, American movie stars seemed like small potatoes. I also chatted it up with her intern Jonathan, from Puerto Rico. Watching the sunset from the Consulate General’s house, drinking good wine (some of which, Steve noticed, was from Napa Valley) really made me excited for a career in the Foreign Service!

I have visited my schools, but I haven’t met the kids yet (that will come Monday). I’m hoping to get a bike, so I can bike around the region, but I’ve been going one day, one step at a time. I also want to try to find a way to play soccer (or at the very least use the municipal pool). Zandra (another assistant) and I found out today that the kayaking in my town is only for the club in the winter, and it’s now too late to join the club...whatever. I have a pet cat. Well, practically. My first night in my apartment it was hanging out on the roof outside one of my windows...it even came in once! This morning it came in and hid under the bed and wouldn’t leave...maybe that’s because I gave it some cream last night...my hallway stinks because the owner lets it poop in there, but it just needs some love. I don’t have an oven or a microwave, just a range, so I’m going to HAVE to learn how to cook, and where better to do it than Provence? The cheap version of Herbes de Provence that I bought at the grocery store (which are apparently for BBQing) include the following ingredients: sarriette, romarin, serpolet, marjolaine, origan, basilica and thym in variable proportions.

I’ve been alternately lonely and happy, excited and nervous, and wanted to run away a few times, but really, it’s just 9 months! I’ve made some good friends, including some assistants in Avignon and Marseille, and Ruth, the other assistant in my town. She’s from England. I don’t have internet in my apartment, but it may be too expensive. We will see...I may think it’s worth it...I may decide that just like learning how to cook, reading, and learning French, living without internet is just going to be one of my challenges this year.

I love and miss a lot of you fabulous people in my life.