So, I'm jumping on the bandwagon and publishing my 25 random facts about me like everyone and their mom has been doing on facebook for the last two weeks. Since I don't really have access to facebook, I'll post it here on my blog, since the friends of mine who frequent my blog are the ones I want to read it anyways. Anyhoo, in no particular order...mes 25 choses.
1. I am currently living in the oyster capital of France. Even though oysters taste like little gulps of sea water, I love it here!
2. Napoleon Bonaparte is my historical hero. Hands down.
3. I grit my teeth when I pet insanely cute animals. I also want to squeeze them into oblivion, but as this is hazardous to the health of the animal, I refrain.
4. At 6’1”, I am the shortest person in my family. The french find this “incroyable”.
5. The only age I ever wanted to be was 16…so I could drive.
6. I hate television…it rots the minds of our youth. With the exception of SO YOU THINK YOU CAN DANCE?
7. A purring cat asleep in your lap is akin to heaven. Even when the cat destroys your pants from excessive kneading.
8. Guacamole is my favorite food…although I’m not really sure if it qualifies as food. I love it with Carne Asada, black beans, chips…heck, sometimes I eat it by the spoonful. Not really sure if that’s too healthy…
9. My pet peeve is when people talk in movie theatres. I only pay to see a movie maybe 5 times a year…DO NOT RUIN IT FOR ME!
10. I secretly adore fashion and wish I could wear whatever I darn well please…much like the Japanese. Sometimes I do, but I wish I had to guts to wear the bizarre everyday.
11. If I had smaller feet, I would probably have a shoe obsession. As it is, I already own too many pairs of shoes. And jackets.
12. I’m intensely curious as to what people would think of me if I shaved my head.
13. I like French names for boys even though Americans find them effeminate. Par exemple: Michel, Benoit, Loic, Valentin, Sylvain…the list goes on.
14. My ambition in high school was to narrate a show for the history channel.
15. I love the sun. Like seriously. Like I’ll spend all afternoon in the sun basking like a lizard even if I return home with a sunburn. It hurts so good. I often take a sheet and find a patch of grass and either sleep or read.
16. I cried after the end of the last Narnia book. Not because the story was sad, but because it was the end of the series.
17. I rarely do anything with my hair. In fact, I rarely brush it. I’m not even sure if I know how to do anything with my hair.
18. I consider convincing my mother to let us name the cat Smeagol a great accomplishment.
19. I hate to do the dishes. I’d rather do any other chore. There is some satisfaction of a job well done after doing chores…but with dishes…you know you’re just going to use them again and have to clean them again. Paper plates are your friend.
20. I have perpetual bruises on my knees from basketball. I plan on playing indefinitely, but I often stop and wonder how much longer that will be…
21. I can be a bit of a control freak. You can watch whatever you want on the t.v., but I have to hold the remote.
22. I like to know things. Maybe its the reason I enjoy being a park ranger. I hold the knowledge, and the knowledge is empowering.
23. Sometimes, it is easier for me to understand French than people with British or Scottish accents. You’d think we speak the same language, right?
24. When I was in elementary school, I checked out D’aulaires Book of Greek Myths from the library at least 9 times in one year. I read it through every single time.
25. I don’t eat salad. I feel I could benefit just as much from going in the backyard and munching on some leaves.
Friday, January 30, 2009
Monday, January 26, 2009
Pour les gens qui aiment les chats
Everytime I ride my bike past a certain yard in Bourcefranc, there is a certain faucet covered in black and white plastic that strongly resembles a sitting cat. And everytime I ride past this certain yard with this certain faucet, it is certain that my heart will leap up into my throat as I prepare to rejoice over the presence of a cat. (Every true cat lover will know exactly what I mean). But alas! Thwarted again! Last night, after being tricked for what could conceivably be the 1,391st time, I fervently said to myself, "I wish you WERE a cat." I continued on my way and gave no further thought to the matter. Upon exiting the bank, my attention was arrested as I glanced across the street and saw an apparition that made me catch my breath. Sitting in the windowsill, regarding me intently, sat a black and white cat. A cat that looked as if it may have sprung to life from a certain plastic covered faucet. For a full minute I stared at faucet cat and truly believed that my wish had come true. But then I came to my senses and slowly turned my bicycle homewards. I'm sure faucet cat is out there somewhere waiting for me to believe in him again so that I can take him home and he can sit in my lap and purr.
Les Temps des Cathedrales
i am continually struck by the emptiness of the great cathedrals of France. There are signs posted that command silence upon entering a cathedral, but really...who would want to disturb that colossal emptiness, that cavernous silence. Not I... I walked into the Cathedrale de Saint-Pierre today. It is a magnificent cathedral, full of light and color...and I was the only one there to enjoy it. As I walked the floor of the catheral, I was struck by the state of disrepair I found it in. The cathedral is losing the battle against mold. Mold and moss may make for pituresque photos, but they eat away at stone, slowly destroying the history that has long since fled our awareness. What will be left in 100 years? I hestitate to even wonder. Each and everytime I enter a lonely, forsaken cathedral, I fell as if we are trying to make God a relic of the past. My relationship with my savior is alive and vibrant. I mourn for those who view God as a remnant from the middle ages that science was unable to extinguish. And so, each time I enter a cathedral, it is with a sense of melancholy. Cathedrals are beautiful houses of God, but they can be made even more so if filled to capacity with worshippers who lift their voices to fill the cavernous silence with music and praise. Helas! Il n'est plus les temps des cathedrales.
Saturday, January 24, 2009
What can we do to end racism?
This was the question I posed to my students after doing a presentation on Martin Luther King and the Civil Rights Movement. Many students had standard responses like educating our children and being tolerant, but I must say that my favorite answer was quite unexpected. "Why, put all the racists in gulags, of course". The idea of rounding up all the racists in the world and packing them off to Siberia to work in Russian labor camps was a novel one, and I found myself wiping the tears from my eyes before I could respond. I love French teenagers.
Monday, January 19, 2009
Platypus
I think God created the platypus to be a perpetual thorn in the side of the scientist and his infernal habit of trying to neatly classify everything that doesn't necessarily need to be neatly classified. Maybe God created some things to just be. Maybe something is beautiful just because we can't comprehend it.
(This idea popped into my head shortly before midnight and wouldn't leave me alone until I had turned on the light and written it down. Who says God doesn't have a sense of humor?)
(This idea popped into my head shortly before midnight and wouldn't leave me alone until I had turned on the light and written it down. Who says God doesn't have a sense of humor?)
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Poe
Edgar Allan Poe, to be exact. I've been reading his Tales of Mystery and Imagination by the light of my bedside lamp late into the night for the past week or so. And all I have to say is that he is a genius. He practically invented the mystery/detectice genre with his Dupin stories (read Murders in Rue Morgue, The Mystery of Marie Roget, or The Purloined Letter). And he also has the ability to create suspense like few other authors I've seen. After reading The Pit and the Pendulum, I contemplated for hours the imagination he must have had to come up with something so sinister. Horror movies like Hostel and Saw got nothing on Poe. Although, Poe creates horror without resorting to descriptions of gore. I think that is what I appreciate the most. I also feel some affinity with Poe as his love for the French (and especially Paris) shines through in his works. Speaking of French, not only does he throw out random French phrases without translating them, he throws out German, Latin, and Greek phrases as well. Frankly, he makes me feel extremely unlearned. He also is constantly making references to classical mythology that are so far removed from the education we receive today that the only reason I had an inkling of what he was speaking was because of a course I took on the Ancient Historians, and class which maybe 20 people have taken out of the entire population at Point Loma. In addition to this, he employs words which I am positively sure he must have invented. It thrills me when I come across a word that I don't know, but it is a little excessive with Mr. Poe. I don't have the ability to leave my apartment, trek to the teacher's lounge and search the dictionary every time I encounter a new word (which happens frequently when reading Poe). He is also excessively fond of the word "Phantasmagoric". Go figure. But don't think that he is all sinister stories of horror...His "Loss of Breath" was one of the funniest things I've read in a good long while...following almost in the tradition of Twain. Anyhoo, I'm sure you didn't check my blog to read a book report, but I just wanted to share what's been on my mind lately...and I've been thinking about Mr. Poe quite a bit. Hope this finds everyone quite well!
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
An American...or two...in Paris
Continuing the journal entries from last time...
Le 26 Decembre
Today was a day of waiting. I awoke this morning and waited in the hostel until it was time to leave to go get Sarah. When I reached Gare du Nord, I waited 30-45 minutes for the RER B because there was some sort of problem with its normal circulation. When I finally arrived at the airport, I spent an hour and a half waiting at Sarah's arrival gate surrounded by Muslim women who emitted screeches akin to Xena, warrior princess, everytime they greeted someone they knew. I finally found Sarah (her luggage WOULD be the last thing loaded on to the conveyor belt) who had had about 7 hours of sleep in the previous two days combined, who I was very glad to see regardless. We made our way back to Republique, deposited our bags in our room, and freshened up a bit...luckily, I was able to move out of the mixed room into an all girl room...no more snoring old men for me. By this time, I was ravenously hungry (having been reduced to eating leftover christmas cookies) so we stopped and had some kebab. I can't really describe doner kebab other than to say that they shave meat off a giant meat log. Its rather tasty all the same. It was so nice to sit down and eat some real food after two days of surviving off of christmas cookies and chocolate. Anyways, afterwards, we took the metro to trocadero so we could take the requisite eiffel tower pictures. It was rather cold (0-2 dgrees Celsius) and the line to go up the tower was horrendously long and Sarah was dead on her feet so we decided to call it a night. We walked to Invalides and saw the Pont Alexandre III, the Grand Palais, and Invalides all lit up and looking beautiful. We also had a chance to see the eiffel tower sparkle. (it does this every hour). So, we returned to Republique, took wonderful hot showers, and Sarah was asleep by 8 pm. Hopefully she will wake up refreshed tomorrow for our louvre day. I'm gonna try to convince her to skip the eiffel tower in favor of Notre Dame...we shall see what happens... But I must say, i'm very happy to have Sarah here with me. I wish I could keep her for longer. Anyways, good night. Tomorrow, the Louvre!
*NOTE*
In between the last post and the next post, Sarah and I ran all over Paris and saw A LOT! We visited the Louvre, climbed the towers of Notre Dame, strolled the streets of the Latin quarter/Saint Michel, visited Versailles, paid tribute to Napoleon at his tomb at Invalides, perused the military history of France at the Musee D'Armee, ate more kebab, climbed the eiffel tower (so cold!), ate sandwiches on the steps of the opera house, climbed the hill of montmartre to sacre coeur, ate many crepes, and visited the artists of montmartre at the place du tertre. Whew! I know we did much more...but on to the next journal entry!
Le 29 Decembre
Many things have transpired in the last few days, but of all the incidents that have occured, I must record one, lest I forget it. While in Notre Dame de Montmartre, an older church alongside Sacre Coeur that is relatively tourist free (tourist free...the way to be! For churches at least...), Sarah had an "experience"...although I must say it wasn't of the religious type. The solemn hush that can only be found in a cathedral was all pervading, and Sarah and I were treading softly and speaking in whispers. About half way through the church, Sarah sneezed. Which would have been ok...except it was the most unnatural sounding sneeze I have ever heard...and it echoed through the cavernous passageways of the cathedral, utterly destroying the sanctity of that holy place. The look on Sarah's face was a melange of horror and embarrassment that was strongly fighting the urge to laugh. We struggled to compose our faces in this most solemn of places and headed for the exit as demurely and quickly as possible. As soon as we reached the open air, we burst out laughing hysterically. And it is impossible to keep from laughing to myself each time I recall the incident.
P.S. What do you think of Snert as a possible cat name? I've added it to my collection of names I will have for my cats when I'm a crazy old cat lady. Thus far I have, Baudelaire (for a black cat), Themistocles (this cat needs to be an epic hero), and Smee.
Le 26 Decembre
Today was a day of waiting. I awoke this morning and waited in the hostel until it was time to leave to go get Sarah. When I reached Gare du Nord, I waited 30-45 minutes for the RER B because there was some sort of problem with its normal circulation. When I finally arrived at the airport, I spent an hour and a half waiting at Sarah's arrival gate surrounded by Muslim women who emitted screeches akin to Xena, warrior princess, everytime they greeted someone they knew. I finally found Sarah (her luggage WOULD be the last thing loaded on to the conveyor belt) who had had about 7 hours of sleep in the previous two days combined, who I was very glad to see regardless. We made our way back to Republique, deposited our bags in our room, and freshened up a bit...luckily, I was able to move out of the mixed room into an all girl room...no more snoring old men for me. By this time, I was ravenously hungry (having been reduced to eating leftover christmas cookies) so we stopped and had some kebab. I can't really describe doner kebab other than to say that they shave meat off a giant meat log. Its rather tasty all the same. It was so nice to sit down and eat some real food after two days of surviving off of christmas cookies and chocolate. Anyways, afterwards, we took the metro to trocadero so we could take the requisite eiffel tower pictures. It was rather cold (0-2 dgrees Celsius) and the line to go up the tower was horrendously long and Sarah was dead on her feet so we decided to call it a night. We walked to Invalides and saw the Pont Alexandre III, the Grand Palais, and Invalides all lit up and looking beautiful. We also had a chance to see the eiffel tower sparkle. (it does this every hour). So, we returned to Republique, took wonderful hot showers, and Sarah was asleep by 8 pm. Hopefully she will wake up refreshed tomorrow for our louvre day. I'm gonna try to convince her to skip the eiffel tower in favor of Notre Dame...we shall see what happens... But I must say, i'm very happy to have Sarah here with me. I wish I could keep her for longer. Anyways, good night. Tomorrow, the Louvre!
*NOTE*
In between the last post and the next post, Sarah and I ran all over Paris and saw A LOT! We visited the Louvre, climbed the towers of Notre Dame, strolled the streets of the Latin quarter/Saint Michel, visited Versailles, paid tribute to Napoleon at his tomb at Invalides, perused the military history of France at the Musee D'Armee, ate more kebab, climbed the eiffel tower (so cold!), ate sandwiches on the steps of the opera house, climbed the hill of montmartre to sacre coeur, ate many crepes, and visited the artists of montmartre at the place du tertre. Whew! I know we did much more...but on to the next journal entry!
Le 29 Decembre
Many things have transpired in the last few days, but of all the incidents that have occured, I must record one, lest I forget it. While in Notre Dame de Montmartre, an older church alongside Sacre Coeur that is relatively tourist free (tourist free...the way to be! For churches at least...), Sarah had an "experience"...although I must say it wasn't of the religious type. The solemn hush that can only be found in a cathedral was all pervading, and Sarah and I were treading softly and speaking in whispers. About half way through the church, Sarah sneezed. Which would have been ok...except it was the most unnatural sounding sneeze I have ever heard...and it echoed through the cavernous passageways of the cathedral, utterly destroying the sanctity of that holy place. The look on Sarah's face was a melange of horror and embarrassment that was strongly fighting the urge to laugh. We struggled to compose our faces in this most solemn of places and headed for the exit as demurely and quickly as possible. As soon as we reached the open air, we burst out laughing hysterically. And it is impossible to keep from laughing to myself each time I recall the incident.
P.S. What do you think of Snert as a possible cat name? I've added it to my collection of names I will have for my cats when I'm a crazy old cat lady. Thus far I have, Baudelaire (for a black cat), Themistocles (this cat needs to be an epic hero), and Smee.
Friday, January 2, 2009
Christmas in Paris
Hello all and Happy New Year! This will be the beginning of several posts as I recount my adventures with my sister. So, I will start off the series with my reflections written in my journal as I traveled to Paris to meet Sarah. Direct from my journal:
Le 24 Decembre
Saw 10 swans in between Marennes and Rochefort...always in pairs. Also saw several nests high up in power lines. Looked as if they belonged to eagles. I wonder...do swans nest in trees or on the ground? On my way to Paris to see Sarah! Merry Christmas!
Later...
I don't know how much more of this insufferable techno music I can take. It've lost count of the number of cheap cheesy santas I've seen suspended from rooftops and windows...must be well over 20 by now.
On the train...
There is a super creepy old man sitting across the aisle from me! He keeps staring at me! I thought he got off at Poitiers, but he magically reappeared after I fell asleep. He keeps looking across the aisle out of my window even though he has his own window and since its dark outside, you can't see anything except for reflections meaning that he is staring at my reflection! Ew! I keep catching him staring at me and he straightens up real quick and pretends to look somewhere else every time. I just want to yell at him..."Why do you keep staring at me!?!"
Le 25 Decembre
I've become a most excellent liar. I've already told innumerable lies today, jut to protect my personal safety. I made the mistake of telling the truth this morning at the tour eiffel. The old "do you speak English?" so i can hand you a card with my bosnian refugee story on it. (There are so many of these women and they all have exactly the same story...its just not possible). When approached by these bosnian women, I just pretended that I didn't speak english, and pulled it off pretty well. Then when the guys selling the mini eiffel towers attacked with cries of "pretty lady!" I gave them a cold Parisian "Non, merci." They always target me because I'm too tall to be French. The last straw this morning was a crazy Moroccan guy who accosted me as I attempted to kill time until lunch by reading on a park bench. he started off by asking if he could speak with me while I obviously had no want of company as I was deeply immersed in my book. Well, he started off with the basics. What nationality are you, what is your job in France, etc, etc. Of course I was lying through my teeth. He wanted to know where I was staying...I gave him the other end of town from my hostel. He then asked if I was married and when I responded in the negative, he enthused, "me neither!". Uh oh. He proceeded to show me his passport, his cell phone, his visa, things you should never show to anyone! Anyhoo, I told him I had a boyfriend in La Rochelle. I'm such a liar. He then asked what I was going to be doing later and I said, "je vais disparaitre"..."I'm going to disappear". I've never been so blunt with anyone before. But he didn't get the hint. He wanted me to accompany him to the eiffel tower tower but there was no way in this lifetime or the next that I was going to do that. He then got desperate and told me that so "jolie" and "belle". But to no avail. He finally left me alone to enjoy my book in peace. At the lunch at Ginger's apartment (the youth pastor at the american church of paris), I got along rather well with everyone and thoroughly enjoyed myself. We had a hodge-podge of chili, german bread, romanian cabbage rolls, okra, and australian ham bread...maybe it was mexican...I can't remember. Anyways, i ate far too much but had several good conversations with people from all around the world. There was a mexican woman who spoke english with an australian accent having lived there for years, romanians, new zealanders, a girl from Cameroon...we were a very diverse group. I made good friends with one of the New Zealanders, Roxy. We spent Christmas night by walking the entire length of the champs-elysees (the lights are fantastic! and so are the crowds!) We bought waffles and ate them as we walked to Place de la Concord. From there we took the metro to Haussman where we looked at the decorated shop windows at Printemps and Galleries LaFayette. I am soo going shopping in La Rochelle during the soldes (sales) in January! Anyhoo, had a most satisfactory night, returned to the hostel, made friends with the Canadian woman in my room, and fell into an hour or so long conversation with her. I spoke French for the majority of the conversation until I learned that she could speak English and the we switched over. The old man who stayed in our room was perfectly polite and respectful...except for the fact that he snored like Satan. And then the weird Spanish guy woke up and left at 5 AM, and then my mom called called at 6 AM to say that Sarah's flight had been delayed by 3 hours. So yeah...a most interesting Christmas.
Le 24 Decembre
Saw 10 swans in between Marennes and Rochefort...always in pairs. Also saw several nests high up in power lines. Looked as if they belonged to eagles. I wonder...do swans nest in trees or on the ground? On my way to Paris to see Sarah! Merry Christmas!
Later...
I don't know how much more of this insufferable techno music I can take. It've lost count of the number of cheap cheesy santas I've seen suspended from rooftops and windows...must be well over 20 by now.
On the train...
There is a super creepy old man sitting across the aisle from me! He keeps staring at me! I thought he got off at Poitiers, but he magically reappeared after I fell asleep. He keeps looking across the aisle out of my window even though he has his own window and since its dark outside, you can't see anything except for reflections meaning that he is staring at my reflection! Ew! I keep catching him staring at me and he straightens up real quick and pretends to look somewhere else every time. I just want to yell at him..."Why do you keep staring at me!?!"
Le 25 Decembre
I've become a most excellent liar. I've already told innumerable lies today, jut to protect my personal safety. I made the mistake of telling the truth this morning at the tour eiffel. The old "do you speak English?" so i can hand you a card with my bosnian refugee story on it. (There are so many of these women and they all have exactly the same story...its just not possible). When approached by these bosnian women, I just pretended that I didn't speak english, and pulled it off pretty well. Then when the guys selling the mini eiffel towers attacked with cries of "pretty lady!" I gave them a cold Parisian "Non, merci." They always target me because I'm too tall to be French. The last straw this morning was a crazy Moroccan guy who accosted me as I attempted to kill time until lunch by reading on a park bench. he started off by asking if he could speak with me while I obviously had no want of company as I was deeply immersed in my book. Well, he started off with the basics. What nationality are you, what is your job in France, etc, etc. Of course I was lying through my teeth. He wanted to know where I was staying...I gave him the other end of town from my hostel. He then asked if I was married and when I responded in the negative, he enthused, "me neither!". Uh oh. He proceeded to show me his passport, his cell phone, his visa, things you should never show to anyone! Anyhoo, I told him I had a boyfriend in La Rochelle. I'm such a liar. He then asked what I was going to be doing later and I said, "je vais disparaitre"..."I'm going to disappear". I've never been so blunt with anyone before. But he didn't get the hint. He wanted me to accompany him to the eiffel tower tower but there was no way in this lifetime or the next that I was going to do that. He then got desperate and told me that so "jolie" and "belle". But to no avail. He finally left me alone to enjoy my book in peace. At the lunch at Ginger's apartment (the youth pastor at the american church of paris), I got along rather well with everyone and thoroughly enjoyed myself. We had a hodge-podge of chili, german bread, romanian cabbage rolls, okra, and australian ham bread...maybe it was mexican...I can't remember. Anyways, i ate far too much but had several good conversations with people from all around the world. There was a mexican woman who spoke english with an australian accent having lived there for years, romanians, new zealanders, a girl from Cameroon...we were a very diverse group. I made good friends with one of the New Zealanders, Roxy. We spent Christmas night by walking the entire length of the champs-elysees (the lights are fantastic! and so are the crowds!) We bought waffles and ate them as we walked to Place de la Concord. From there we took the metro to Haussman where we looked at the decorated shop windows at Printemps and Galleries LaFayette. I am soo going shopping in La Rochelle during the soldes (sales) in January! Anyhoo, had a most satisfactory night, returned to the hostel, made friends with the Canadian woman in my room, and fell into an hour or so long conversation with her. I spoke French for the majority of the conversation until I learned that she could speak English and the we switched over. The old man who stayed in our room was perfectly polite and respectful...except for the fact that he snored like Satan. And then the weird Spanish guy woke up and left at 5 AM, and then my mom called called at 6 AM to say that Sarah's flight had been delayed by 3 hours. So yeah...a most interesting Christmas.
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