tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35608313253142317722024-02-06T21:41:35.151-08:00The French Stench“The first condition of understanding a foreign country is to smell it.” KiplingTylerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05737086706693269068noreply@blogger.comBlogger33125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3560831325314231772.post-48966165413426521972012-01-18T12:01:00.000-08:002012-01-18T12:04:03.302-08:00NEW HOME!!!To My Beloved Followers: <div><br /></div><div>The French Stench officially has a new home, which is very exciting. I've transferred all of my previous posts to it, that's where I'll be updating it from now on!</div><div><br /></div><div>Check it out at:</div><div><br /></div><div><a href="http://tyleratwoodphoto.com">http://tyleratwoodphoto.com </a></div><div><br /></div><div>Much love, </div><div>Tyler</div><div><br /></div>Tylerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05737086706693269068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3560831325314231772.post-85498373110453159262012-01-08T11:32:00.000-08:002012-01-08T12:04:09.746-08:00another sunday, another week<p class="MsoNormal"><span>It’s hard to believe I began my daunting trek back to France only a week ago. The passage of time – or rather, my perception of it – is peculiar in the Bubble that is Lannion. It didn’t take long for me to get back into the swing of things, to readapt to the<i> vie quotidienne </i>as it were, so it feels like I’ve already been here for ages. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span>In short, this week was all about reunions. Karen and I coincidentally crossed paths at the train station in Paris, and since we were both zombies from traveling, the chance meeting elicited a dud of a reaction. It was a strange, slow-motion kind of <i>Oh hey, it’s you, this is kind of funny </i>moment that didn’t really convey our mutual excitement. Fiona and I enjoyed a less spontaneous catch-up session over <i>vin chaud</i> and chocolate-covered Speculoos cookies at this kitschy bar in town called Le Scopitone on Wednesday. And on Thursday night, Heledd and I reinstated our routine of cooking dinner together (I use the term “together” here loosely; not that H. isn’t a great sous-chef, but let’s be real: Tyler’s the one who cooks around here). Of course, I was also reunited with my students this week, and I was particularly glad to see my little ones. As they walked into the classroom on Friday morning, many of my CE2s asked me (accusingly) why I hadn’t been there on Tuesday; their teacher winked at me as she told me that they were all pretty worried when I didn’t show up. So cute. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span>My week of reintroduction into French social life culminated last night as I attended a dinner party thrown by Slim, a Tunisian fellow who has somehow managed to befriend the last three or so generations of language assistants in Lannion. We were quite a cosmopolitan group sitting around the dinner table, twelve of us representing nine countries: Slim the Tunisian, as well as 3 Spaniards, 2 Frenchies, a German, an Austrian, a Venezuelan, a Welshy, an Italian, and me, the lone American. Part 1 of the <i>soirée</i> included a delicious couscous dinner and drinks before we ended up moving the whole gang to my apartment for Part 2, which included games like Times Up (the love child of Taboo and charades…kind of) and Jungle Speed (a high-energy/high-stress/potentially violent card game involving shapes and colors and a little wooden totem). It was a casual and fun Saturday evening with both familiar and new faces. It was also an excellent reminder of the kind of rich cultural exchange a program like this can cultivate. Here's to hoping that 2012 is full of these kinds of multicultural, melting pot experiences! </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span>The upcoming week looks promising as I sit here with a hot cuppa tea, listening to the strong gusts of wind outside my window. Tomorrow, I'm accompanying some of my primary school students on a field trip to the hospital, where a bunch of decorations they made before Christmas are hanging in the halls. Tuesday, I have to go to Rennes for a medical visit through the Office of Immigration (cross your fingers I don't have TB, y'all! that's what they're testing me for), and I'm spending Tuesday night in Guingamp to catch up with some of the assistants there, since I'm back to having Wednesdays off! No pictures to post for now; unfortunately, I left the charger to my new digital camera at home, but Mom sent that to me a few days ago, so expect some good ones soon! </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span>Three cheers for updating this thing already! </span></p><p class="MsoNormal">Until next time, bisous from the Stench. </p>Tylerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05737086706693269068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3560831325314231772.post-66921100901947145992011-12-26T08:23:00.000-08:002011-12-26T09:08:23.190-08:00Joyeuses fêtes!<p class="MsoNormal">Happy Holidays from the Stench! I’m going to ignore the fact that I’ve totally failed to keep this thing up to date over the past several months. One of my New Year’s resolutions is to write more, so let’s just forgive, forget, and dive into the new year together!</p><p class="MsoNormal">During Christmas Eve dinner, I made everyone share their favorite part of this holiday season. Mom and Dad were both happy to have everyone together; Jessica enjoyed wrapping all of her presents (you should have seen them, each present meticulously crafted into a piece of art!); Seth liked putting lights on the house and tree with Ashley, whose favorite part was decorating the tree as a family (Ashley always gets sentimental as we dig through the boxes of ornaments collected over the years); Blake had fun making and eating hors d'oeuvres for the usual Christmas Eve finger-food feast. As for me, my favorite part was getting to experience the season in two countries. Lannion was enchanting, even if rainy, before Christmas: twinkling lights strung across every street, carols playing through the town speakers, mulled wine being served on street corners, the Christmas market in the town center. And of course there’s nothing like Christmas at home: baking cookies and cupcakes, fighting crowds of last-minute Christmas shoppers at Barrack’s Road and the mall, sitting around the game table with family and friends. It was all truly perfect.</p><p class="MsoNormal">Here are some photos taken with the Canon Digital Rebel I got for Christmas! Can’t wait to use it to document new adventures in France, Belgium, and Lithuania in the foreseeable future (who knows where it'll follow me after that!):</p><br class="Apple-interchange-newline"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBfYaDxeezsy8kBGNKbUvguqEFCLv24cE6T0jkrqQHe8c-b9ufqnIH23nff_HV2m6y0xLjdCOhKaJdvzDdEyVu-brz9UPrNocfa_2JIHokfTM4aBxwmkyLgjuXMncgTfGDzAJLYdsDXf37/s1600/352.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBfYaDxeezsy8kBGNKbUvguqEFCLv24cE6T0jkrqQHe8c-b9ufqnIH23nff_HV2m6y0xLjdCOhKaJdvzDdEyVu-brz9UPrNocfa_2JIHokfTM4aBxwmkyLgjuXMncgTfGDzAJLYdsDXf37/s400/352.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5690483552426599826" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">(Excited about the new camera...wearing Ashley's new giraffe hat) </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQD807lqc-J6oDBxWwnHkIYgg45q8kv-l_SZ0uGmj5K60Kea7h2T9B2ThXRI3vk5fov32dHsE4MgdOZYjlVZWHhs_h44W8wUYgglVflQYsBLLAXU6HK1uRcRZTRn-o0jk7W0LwYmA7iNr1/s1600/373.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQD807lqc-J6oDBxWwnHkIYgg45q8kv-l_SZ0uGmj5K60Kea7h2T9B2ThXRI3vk5fov32dHsE4MgdOZYjlVZWHhs_h44W8wUYgglVflQYsBLLAXU6HK1uRcRZTRn-o0jk7W0LwYmA7iNr1/s400/373.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5690483545122604850" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">(Day-after-Christmas donuts, made with new donut maker!)</div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFhRNMsq9u08zv6ef29B_M41HzGBkc8_jYo7j_atlYfhaCtpYFDaJ6q2IBQHcakUx3eXGikGpLeHl4zZO-idxIzWNgRvgUPa6a-2s8olGvChUFtbvrk6YqyH4LImySkAkeR5u5xJ-VP4P5/s1600/399.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFhRNMsq9u08zv6ef29B_M41HzGBkc8_jYo7j_atlYfhaCtpYFDaJ6q2IBQHcakUx3eXGikGpLeHl4zZO-idxIzWNgRvgUPa6a-2s8olGvChUFtbvrk6YqyH4LImySkAkeR5u5xJ-VP4P5/s400/399.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5690483542086452402" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ9fjsfcKQPpQ-sRCL9EZSswX6wgPYiXCa4dEWpo1jmbWuU1mvXnUeTwJfDHVO1s7PeYo3vvJ5UPYCelRYVPQqoCMbbc14fp5AVjvuzvuYJ91QYLKXGyLLAx8WpRLYd8ORGiajfzIOySFU/s1600/388.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ9fjsfcKQPpQ-sRCL9EZSswX6wgPYiXCa4dEWpo1jmbWuU1mvXnUeTwJfDHVO1s7PeYo3vvJ5UPYCelRYVPQqoCMbbc14fp5AVjvuzvuYJ91QYLKXGyLLAx8WpRLYd8ORGiajfzIOySFU/s400/388.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5690483531336967570" /></a><p class="MsoNormal">Again, Merry Christmas and Happy New Year! </p><p class="MsoNormal">Tyler</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p>Tylerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05737086706693269068noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3560831325314231772.post-62840519047848191152011-11-22T09:47:00.000-08:002011-11-22T10:09:13.898-08:00hand turkeys!I'm not sure why, but I am SO into Thanksgiving this year. Perhaps it's because I'll be thousands of miles from my own Thanksgiving table, but I am really freakin' excited to go all out. I'll be celebrating it Friday rather than Thursday (home boy doesn't finish until 5:30pm on Thursday...there's no way I'd be able to throw together a proper feast in time for dinner), and since I'm the only American I know of in Lannion, I'll be whipping up some good ol' 'murrican dishes for my European friends: stuffing, mashed sweet potatoes, green bean casserole, duck (yeah we fancy up in here), and, of course, apple pie! But I'm getting ahead of myself.<br /><br />The real point of this post is to show off the hand turkeys my CE2 class made today! I gave them a REALLY simple explanation of Turkey Day, complete with visual references I drew myself of the Mayflower, a Pilgrim, a Native American, and a Turkey. I can only imagine how alien they think I am now (YOU try explaining the importance of turkey to a bunch of French 8-year-olds). Anyway, no elementary school Thanksgiving lesson is complete without some good ol' fashioned hand turkeys, so hand turkeys we made! I gave them some basic guidelines, but some of them got super creative! I LOVE them all and want to hang them on my wall. Without further ado:<div><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLzNniwjLq0ZknPDUTDDxXKXiwnBJaVoy6IZIfwQPAlwbFJi4UKq2H07lKf6w3W7V0eYAdr1N_syD84XvugFO1N4Ysez92RIMcOQ6V6DPrGWCBi4zDANisoqR5utX9KaYpXMcbpRUqqT0-/s1600/004.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLzNniwjLq0ZknPDUTDDxXKXiwnBJaVoy6IZIfwQPAlwbFJi4UKq2H07lKf6w3W7V0eYAdr1N_syD84XvugFO1N4Ysez92RIMcOQ6V6DPrGWCBi4zDANisoqR5utX9KaYpXMcbpRUqqT0-/s400/004.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5677882966423368418" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">(Turkeys with flare) </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLar751vtB7ZfYAIaxMm-CIH_-F4tsOAqiald4x9bRF0T8IN3E-i4IZ2eoVc8nnxXjgy7VaT5iOoBch5DymYIXggdNEWaCYXSMw5Bc_k3mUzx1CxVcYynMDnefTqK1UdcsA4mdC4MInk42/s1600/011.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLar751vtB7ZfYAIaxMm-CIH_-F4tsOAqiald4x9bRF0T8IN3E-i4IZ2eoVc8nnxXjgy7VaT5iOoBch5DymYIXggdNEWaCYXSMw5Bc_k3mUzx1CxVcYynMDnefTqK1UdcsA4mdC4MInk42/s400/011.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5677882958983999442" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">(Goin' all out)</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzmeuUtQ85T05ppjuoxloutMCExkU0vMRFSOJJ1iIWFaR9Do0W8vyAyVF7-yF5F85i3MDGmrnKpSAgokWpDwJI0gZDU0nUy91nuYaOKvfx-T28jajRZPHdlxneQJG06VB5NgcIlQ-Rv67M/s1600/013.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzmeuUtQ85T05ppjuoxloutMCExkU0vMRFSOJJ1iIWFaR9Do0W8vyAyVF7-yF5F85i3MDGmrnKpSAgokWpDwJI0gZDU0nUy91nuYaOKvfx-T28jajRZPHdlxneQJG06VB5NgcIlQ-Rv67M/s400/013.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5677882953276096546" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKd2sium8_hEAXqOio6ciK27dd8uvm2tGbRGBv2aEGax9YTI8bX1f21o7mQHxqK8bYRRn3PGjvZ07SMKrILfF4MeBsSqAJWl7xl0_seoAWh9q7hpm5BAuHWSsEtProzi5xajYe3dzP1iFE/s1600/016.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKd2sium8_hEAXqOio6ciK27dd8uvm2tGbRGBv2aEGax9YTI8bX1f21o7mQHxqK8bYRRn3PGjvZ07SMKrILfF4MeBsSqAJWl7xl0_seoAWh9q7hpm5BAuHWSsEtProzi5xajYe3dzP1iFE/s400/016.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5677882943825384962" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZRrzfEUsaUBhf1mze3xRR0sSiWnuKkph7XvB4256ac4N8ytkPWNpHBJ-krjK5gLFci-jP7N2UV9-O4sUKnZZRQkZPs2zHU30GXl3IjXbGMvjuD4omkHweeYcKBgelEGWug-iTR0RS7hBq/s1600/019.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZRrzfEUsaUBhf1mze3xRR0sSiWnuKkph7XvB4256ac4N8ytkPWNpHBJ-krjK5gLFci-jP7N2UV9-O4sUKnZZRQkZPs2zHU30GXl3IjXbGMvjuD4omkHweeYcKBgelEGWug-iTR0RS7hBq/s400/019.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5677882940950316642" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB3pE_dVbw2drYof5G-gAcgI8PvtYZpg-E-vOu8uG5qB_B5pCijOytfGuKglWv7jzBdM_-tdQ1e4rKGxGs9Vx-pGHmdZDby3RcgQ7qhNlV1qOKIrkvxsUNUVk4s607b2_MeSFrdeTMR-ok/s1600/022.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB3pE_dVbw2drYof5G-gAcgI8PvtYZpg-E-vOu8uG5qB_B5pCijOytfGuKglWv7jzBdM_-tdQ1e4rKGxGs9Vx-pGHmdZDby3RcgQ7qhNlV1qOKIrkvxsUNUVk4s607b2_MeSFrdeTMR-ok/s400/022.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5677882341554972258" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4vVXqxdVzFOYLsl5WFRJkbG1Qq4DVL36kzbqrKzLHYO1Cd3yLAF_w5xARJY6a_ttkXDC-cEW5in0wDCD81JM4IamQot9bwNVWjbmjHcLmWJu2mfNg7moeWPrWVRR_SXq-5Jqqk6nWdY1p/s1600/026.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4vVXqxdVzFOYLsl5WFRJkbG1Qq4DVL36kzbqrKzLHYO1Cd3yLAF_w5xARJY6a_ttkXDC-cEW5in0wDCD81JM4IamQot9bwNVWjbmjHcLmWJu2mfNg7moeWPrWVRR_SXq-5Jqqk6nWdY1p/s400/026.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5677882339241931218" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwnTF5t1a3atZshj5zCrqFFNHlQ16M8qPisO_VsMK5aqVbW5_G7PrcCOlnE3sWTMejPR7sFHw4nSdnHg0V3fT3SNcOr3c6gjiemblEkfhoqxytBxuW83efkuRQBPB1ZWvUkGOw31ukX1uI/s1600/028.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwnTF5t1a3atZshj5zCrqFFNHlQ16M8qPisO_VsMK5aqVbW5_G7PrcCOlnE3sWTMejPR7sFHw4nSdnHg0V3fT3SNcOr3c6gjiemblEkfhoqxytBxuW83efkuRQBPB1ZWvUkGOw31ukX1uI/s400/028.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5677882249605651634" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">(Turkey family! That's a turkey hatching out of an egg there on the left...)</div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrZUnvMpMTz5d37vCcNPG0TM4wK_SPQSutDFu-ZFD-dxEykdbnwSmF4IaJ8RY8BvZXPA-Z5KaY7XbRnYGIzbTzSFcnBatZ6Bq0aI3LS2vBUcMTRQKXevcrTBwOsA-yOhACSnnT9Jkm8qmQ/s1600/029.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrZUnvMpMTz5d37vCcNPG0TM4wK_SPQSutDFu-ZFD-dxEykdbnwSmF4IaJ8RY8BvZXPA-Z5KaY7XbRnYGIzbTzSFcnBatZ6Bq0aI3LS2vBUcMTRQKXevcrTBwOsA-yOhACSnnT9Jkm8qmQ/s400/029.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5677882242940100322" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">(Do turkeys have nests? Marine's does!)</div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkuKtYnmXk7x6Ug8uH1m8LuL9Nz0ClcSNhhpZRiCs4ICoN8YrXfKsiSiDGHQI_SOQc_eqiXC_YXZJwfAUBOoF5Yi5pp3uhSTjkWd3D2XN_cn1tNKAioKpby5DkpAsNubIGQ2LaZCRr0Vn9/s1600/037.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkuKtYnmXk7x6Ug8uH1m8LuL9Nz0ClcSNhhpZRiCs4ICoN8YrXfKsiSiDGHQI_SOQc_eqiXC_YXZJwfAUBOoF5Yi5pp3uhSTjkWd3D2XN_cn1tNKAioKpby5DkpAsNubIGQ2LaZCRr0Vn9/s400/037.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5677882242381905714" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">(Prepping 'em to hang in the hall of the school!)</div><br /></div>Tylerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05737086706693269068noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3560831325314231772.post-90415696566020043072011-11-20T17:21:00.001-08:002011-11-22T09:46:48.187-08:00portes lannionaises<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3sc-qq3oIgdQ0ZlS0FcjJQgnpxI1kWw8cS7QQIclqKXhcstpRQXa9r_pgciifagLdGUoUuXDBNUXCy_9u1niHhB6l_XewYtFlaK5Z3lg407iWnbFKZzX34vLMILemZErFogWMqxjAochu/s1600/portes.png" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><br /><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 169px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3sc-qq3oIgdQ0ZlS0FcjJQgnpxI1kWw8cS7QQIclqKXhcstpRQXa9r_pgciifagLdGUoUuXDBNUXCy_9u1niHhB6l_XewYtFlaK5Z3lg407iWnbFKZzX34vLMILemZErFogWMqxjAochu/s400/portes.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5677253307762217874" /></a><br /><div>NEW POST COMING <del>TOMORROW</del>SOON </div>Tylerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05737086706693269068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3560831325314231772.post-10575230556879459912011-10-17T02:47:00.001-07:002011-10-17T02:57:41.953-07:00ouest-france article<div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span">I'm famous! This short article and photo appeared in the regional newspaper Ouest-France a couple of weeks ago. The basic gist of the article: a bunch of French nerds are here to teach little ones English. </span><span class="Apple-style-span"> (The photo features only those of us working in ecoles primaires. There are actually about 30 English assistants throughout the Cotes d'Armor department of Brittany once you take high school and middle school into account.) </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQmIxlWmPz_Z4DNoZwtlPki6tDG2m62lkOoB9wUWpcEzRnXT_WKXVj0bIpWbka_OMazyqnxF_RIYQsEHzJg0ix292FUjOnISSL8qgqExbPx5BY20P1GrSQkdWNMj3mD6u8g2nAumpWqcPT/s1600/photo+des+assistantes+de+langue0001.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 358px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQmIxlWmPz_Z4DNoZwtlPki6tDG2m62lkOoB9wUWpcEzRnXT_WKXVj0bIpWbka_OMazyqnxF_RIYQsEHzJg0ix292FUjOnISSL8qgqExbPx5BY20P1GrSQkdWNMj3mD6u8g2nAumpWqcPT/s400/photo+des+assistantes+de+langue0001.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5664396688778564690" /></a><br /><span class="Apple-style-span">Love how the quality of the image makes me look like I have braces and am therefore 15 years old.<br /></span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></div>Tylerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05737086706693269068noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3560831325314231772.post-54757656033365076182011-10-07T08:45:00.000-07:002011-10-07T09:07:58.910-07:00on being responsible for formative minds<div style="text-align: left;">I’ve been in France for two weeks and already I’ve had a visitor from the States! Anthony, a friend from the great state of Texas, has been traveling around Europe since he ran the Berlin marathon two weeks ago. And since his flight home left out of Paris, he decided to come to little ol’ Lannion for a couple of days! Below are some pictures from the day trip we took to a place called Ploumanac’h on the coast. It was beautiful, and I was glad to see the sea, as I live just kilometers away from it, and of course it’s what makes the region famous. We walked for several hours along the <i>Sentier des douaniers</i>, a meandering footpath 19kms long right on the edge of the water. Historically, it was where customs officers patrolled the coast. The sights were unlike anything I’ve seen before, and there was something almost enchanting about the contrast between the pink granite rocks and the blue-gray-green water (In fact, the Breton language has its own word for this color: <i>glasz</i>.) Even the wind seemed other-worldly.</div><div style="text-align: left;"> <p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><o:p> </o:p></p></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRtS-uHrQc9v3XaEtW02fIpVZqIg9auBLlNu6yjJctpvmR_wux2soJ9cu91oOQaSARtXg-HnCIct9gb9-TpwfP10lSH2qoN81c9IpuetkOVN9gG0JHO0l-3361lsSpVNi1d5IkYrBiv2lC/s1600/247.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRtS-uHrQc9v3XaEtW02fIpVZqIg9auBLlNu6yjJctpvmR_wux2soJ9cu91oOQaSARtXg-HnCIct9gb9-TpwfP10lSH2qoN81c9IpuetkOVN9gG0JHO0l-3361lsSpVNi1d5IkYrBiv2lC/s400/247.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5660777994435451666" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1EObgpQrsqzZ6wJQlxW6jvWoGaPo-pBkiKVmQ8qOo0sJs5ZcLezMKuoe7yYCZWzNADT62btrSeeW8-S5vDSuWntP1F4yrCl9Q3CbPKIMLTSUqQgspNBqZd1An6nQzEQmRdvYnlRNvPqFI/s1600/304.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1EObgpQrsqzZ6wJQlxW6jvWoGaPo-pBkiKVmQ8qOo0sJs5ZcLezMKuoe7yYCZWzNADT62btrSeeW8-S5vDSuWntP1F4yrCl9Q3CbPKIMLTSUqQgspNBqZd1An6nQzEQmRdvYnlRNvPqFI/s400/304.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5660777991131620546" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzRS9nEdNlmMaGo4DKsvP4JDUp_8vlbGOtgD8JOmsyzm9T-W2Nlzbd-NXLl_Xijq7aA4uGC-0Zs-9WEOr-AREAAkCWcIW-UlHSoNoplNVl1oP9U6VCNzsX4G2s_s9lcWcpZytIAmcWUvMO/s1600/021.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzRS9nEdNlmMaGo4DKsvP4JDUp_8vlbGOtgD8JOmsyzm9T-W2Nlzbd-NXLl_Xijq7aA4uGC-0Zs-9WEOr-AREAAkCWcIW-UlHSoNoplNVl1oP9U6VCNzsX4G2s_s9lcWcpZytIAmcWUvMO/s400/021.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5660777985886582290" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi03U9-_Ul4NEH27RQYh-hNaEzU0WroYNJIROoALIxwxObalwJfkNVI1XKKqR5H0NTp5TKgCm22gDWhhhfhztiGnspsy9-56_20gcQvwO0E8oPnKygLX7a53qC3qVNs_5CCy5EhVE0z9l9o/s1600/048.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi03U9-_Ul4NEH27RQYh-hNaEzU0WroYNJIROoALIxwxObalwJfkNVI1XKKqR5H0NTp5TKgCm22gDWhhhfhztiGnspsy9-56_20gcQvwO0E8oPnKygLX7a53qC3qVNs_5CCy5EhVE0z9l9o/s400/048.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5660777581313563138" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZcQeNpV6Bh81DT0xgKj5y9xscATwg-fQJZxKhvryETDL_65ZME1kmFZhiZEeMHIO9dv4vW-Mp3qJsMpkPmJwqbQOBMc0E9W-q4g6ne1q-f-hiQK0U24YVYK8SjeMFJYyGwCQ3FAIEWHmA/s1600/069.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZcQeNpV6Bh81DT0xgKj5y9xscATwg-fQJZxKhvryETDL_65ZME1kmFZhiZEeMHIO9dv4vW-Mp3qJsMpkPmJwqbQOBMc0E9W-q4g6ne1q-f-hiQK0U24YVYK8SjeMFJYyGwCQ3FAIEWHmA/s400/069.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5660777572140868162" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZue6AIv56lOTOR81m865EzqE3_xemWLtlk9JK2kuIyL_7ALfvoF8GjPrjVfYyyCd9YqudWefJ-G646o8B806DDdIvBGeVmmzyhO9vSnVFAe489K9-MgbLIlASTbpaJdeKkjz1sBFnDHvg/s1600/094.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZue6AIv56lOTOR81m865EzqE3_xemWLtlk9JK2kuIyL_7ALfvoF8GjPrjVfYyyCd9YqudWefJ-G646o8B806DDdIvBGeVmmzyhO9vSnVFAe489K9-MgbLIlASTbpaJdeKkjz1sBFnDHvg/s400/094.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5660777563593160402" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiTozDDi_a5wXn0l3MyTHxzaRIRgZ5Di3M2yTgP9ht-Jnbju7AQ76Y-w3MbppeaFXFVbVVIYzO3oUVFz3v5nNAtxp8QUDCRQuEQatCwR2Es91XH3uTyKaSpKCBrU2hxtJfDEPCx5Svb4QX/s1600/132.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiTozDDi_a5wXn0l3MyTHxzaRIRgZ5Di3M2yTgP9ht-Jnbju7AQ76Y-w3MbppeaFXFVbVVIYzO3oUVFz3v5nNAtxp8QUDCRQuEQatCwR2Es91XH3uTyKaSpKCBrU2hxtJfDEPCx5Svb4QX/s400/132.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5660777552465885282" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGOQeGVSPx9ykPgUPmzfGEyuBInDv1lVr8W8pW3yH0UBhst1HPmiSuU8YjlYi0PMOYRWO-6rUHyu0BoYFVGI5kB0zR6pK9Io1PyOaFTvWcx3vbwO6TjdLt7GpIPsMZYWbSDLAR0KWiZnA2/s1600/156.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGOQeGVSPx9ykPgUPmzfGEyuBInDv1lVr8W8pW3yH0UBhst1HPmiSuU8YjlYi0PMOYRWO-6rUHyu0BoYFVGI5kB0zR6pK9Io1PyOaFTvWcx3vbwO6TjdLt7GpIPsMZYWbSDLAR0KWiZnA2/s400/156.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5660777544579712514" /></a><div><div style="text-align: center;">(crazy alien flower!)</div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">In other news, it’s official: I’m an elementary school teacher (say WHAT?!). I taught – and survived! – my first two classes today. I’ve been placed in three schools, two <i>écoles primaires</i>and one <i>lycée</i> (high school). At the lycée, I’ll be doing what I actually signed up to do – that is, assist. I’ll lead discussions with small groups of students to supplement what they’re learning in class and get them to <i>apply</i> the language. At the écoles primaires, however, I’ve got a lot more responsibility. I am THE teacher. As in, they have given me two classes and expect me to <i>teach</i>these children English. I’ve got one CE2 class and one CM1 (the equivalent of second and third grade), and the age of my students ranges from 7-10. There are 23 of them in one class and 16 in the other. Again, WHAT?!</p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><o:p> </o:p>Needless to say, I was a nervous wreck this morning. I had no idea how to prepare for class, as I had no concept of how much English they’ve already learned. Not to mention I’ve got almost zero teaching experience and even less experience working with children. It was overwhelming and challenging, but I can already tell it’s going to be such a positive and rewarding experience for me. It’s going to push me out of my comfort zone in such a good way. I do, however, feel a lot of pressure to be the kind of teacher and role model these kids deserve. I’ve been told that many of them are “en difficulté” – that is, they come from single-parent households and lack in particular a male role model. It’s going to require a lot of effort on my part, but today’s classes left me feeling so motivated, and I look forward to seeing how the students (and I!) evolve. They are so cute and eager; this morning they walked single-file into the classroom and stared at me all wide-eyed and curious, timidly muttering “bonjour” to me under their breath. We went over simple things like “My name is,” and the names of colors, and I’m already impressed by their level of comprehension – or at least their responsiveness/ willingness to react and repeat. And of course I love walking through the halls, the walls plastered with indecipherable drawings, everything so colorful and miniature! </p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">Anyway, my computer's about to die, and I don't have my charger with me at the cafe. Signed up finally for internet, but we still won't have it for 5-15 days. Oof. It's been a long, exhausting week, but now it's the weekend! Heledd, a friend and fellow assistant from Wales, and I are heading to Guingamp this weekend. Updates soon!</p></div>Tylerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05737086706693269068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3560831325314231772.post-41717747826055985622011-10-01T06:59:00.000-07:002011-10-01T07:19:13.711-07:00adventure in the great wide somewhere<p class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst"><span class="Apple-style-span">Let’s be real: my twenty three years of life experience did not prepare me for finding housing, let alone housing in a foreign country. This is, of course, no surprise considering I went to Davidson, where students have to ask permission to live off campus (and even then, it’s pretty much a matter of choosing between two streets). Thus, the hunt for an apartment in Lannion was, for lack of better words, a big fat pain in the derrière. But <i>it</i> <i>was</i>! Past tense! </span></p> <p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span"> </span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><span class="Apple-style-span">I am writing this from my<i> </i>apartment, y’all. From my very own chez moi. Well, not “my very own.” I’ve got a Spanish roommate named Roberto. And we don’t actually have internet yet so I’m <i>posting</i> this from a café with wi-fi. But things are actually falling into place, which is more than I could say two days ago. Forgive the cliché, but this week has been an emotional rollercoaster. Because in the midst of my frustration, anger, and pessimism, there was Lannion, which is so wonderfully picturesque it’s impossible to sustain any kind of negative emotion. I’m getting ahead of myself, though. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><span class="Apple-style-span"><br />After several fruitless days of calling people with apartment listings in local newspapers and walking around town looking for “à louer” (to rent) signs in windows (the internet completely failed me), I actually had a choice to make between two places: a totally charming (read: endearingly small) studio in an old stone building right in the middle of the city, just outside of my budget but exactly what I’d imagined; and a large apartment on top of a hill several minutes by foot from the middle of the city, a total eyesore resembling a psychiatric ward from the outside. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span"> </span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><span class="Apple-style-span">Seems like an easy decision, right? The studio? Nope. I went with the latter. For one reason alone: money. It proved impossible to pass up an apartment for 110<span>€ per month</span> (versus 250<span>€</span> + electricity + cost of furnishing the kitchen, as there were no dishes). I tried so hard to justify spending more than twice as much money on something much smaller but infinitely quainter, but just couldn’t do it. I’m sure I’ll get over it soon, but calling the landlord to tell him I’d found something else certainly tugged on my heartstrings a little. I’ll make the most of the new digs, though, and now I won’t feel guilty about spending a little money to spruce it up a bit, make it feel less like an institution and more like a home! I’m even fixin’ to buy a plant. And a pillow. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span"> </span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><span class="Apple-style-span">Now instead of writing about everything I’ve seen and done since my arrival in Lannion, here’s a summary of my week in pictures. (Aforementioned frustration, anger, and pessimism not included, as they no longer exist as of 10:00 this morning.) (Pictures of my three days in Paris also not included.) (Pictures of my apartment will be posted forthwith.) (Something about blogging makes me cuckoo for parenthetical statements!) </span></p><span class="Apple-style-span"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3Uj_2Z6kXIbDFL58eqMR14tbR_GDtbt8rwgHTlkZKDhjdi4llh70DaBaJ-KyKIZS5__pWgBIB6jzp_xwVhoj7TfL-s12SdQtVx9jpMmrwoc_Q0sKazyJiCciGciRMo2PH9VaTl52lK3iS/s1600/028.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3Uj_2Z6kXIbDFL58eqMR14tbR_GDtbt8rwgHTlkZKDhjdi4llh70DaBaJ-KyKIZS5__pWgBIB6jzp_xwVhoj7TfL-s12SdQtVx9jpMmrwoc_Q0sKazyJiCciGciRMo2PH9VaTl52lK3iS/s400/028.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5658524608130222434" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">(Cafe les Valseuses<i>,</i> a bar I went to the other night with the guy who let me Couch Surf chez lui all week. We sat out back, where there are picnic tables and plastic chairs, and we just sat there talking and looking at the stars. Unreal.) </div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7nOWjfxomm7LFMZ5Dkfrp-uZKxPJEE4LVqUo4kRyFHSmQDRi7eN1Zyg8ycSrl-_XN4_n2vB5y-aHSE-hMNXvi3BuaXB1qO72GhI4dvZ0yt2Vp9T2LcBubAfR0E9XHbo_Eab81iyFCPaZe/s1600/042.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7nOWjfxomm7LFMZ5Dkfrp-uZKxPJEE4LVqUo4kRyFHSmQDRi7eN1Zyg8ycSrl-_XN4_n2vB5y-aHSE-hMNXvi3BuaXB1qO72GhI4dvZ0yt2Vp9T2LcBubAfR0E9XHbo_Eab81iyFCPaZe/s400/042.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5658524202001914114" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">(Les escaliers de Brelevenez)</div><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFV-dAhc6tdAJArFFzk-OTRT5XXHFM1b7_OGJPg8jot6pOafBFd6GlCEUFQIrlXmu1ZHbcxtwLW6Kr1ixD8UwZATFYWMXdMakEagD3oxcgCjzRY_7He8ArDF8H7SjClrBHhHh5xXTwrowp/s1600/050.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFV-dAhc6tdAJArFFzk-OTRT5XXHFM1b7_OGJPg8jot6pOafBFd6GlCEUFQIrlXmu1ZHbcxtwLW6Kr1ixD8UwZATFYWMXdMakEagD3oxcgCjzRY_7He8ArDF8H7SjClrBHhHh5xXTwrowp/s400/050.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5658524198460756562" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">(Just another charming French street)</div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvEK75wdUhUIeMYbt6qlVU_6fYt2p3zloLGTFRZIAeG0hErknOpAkxGhZguYqKCYUfLfxuGqy6J7lQUwppZy7JX4Ypvp5AkKxyfQ-ppnJUoYQLwajvm8eRqi6RFig-kZ25sFwYfcy3FltA/s1600/061.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvEK75wdUhUIeMYbt6qlVU_6fYt2p3zloLGTFRZIAeG0hErknOpAkxGhZguYqKCYUfLfxuGqy6J7lQUwppZy7JX4Ypvp5AkKxyfQ-ppnJUoYQLwajvm8eRqi6RFig-kZ25sFwYfcy3FltA/s400/061.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5658524194137577362" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">(And another medieval church...)</div><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbhlxl3vZaGoj9kQkLTKn92SAydfyvAbW3P-nxO3WxXin7KmhzQLnlbJfxsX5DTH0IdwgZOmpWTsYVvYGlF4PQDE81RLr_viFbi8RkmLp1Rnm5MHsFAECxLomB2ZpCnI5N0p8-vw0MYI6w/s1600/006.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 295px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbhlxl3vZaGoj9kQkLTKn92SAydfyvAbW3P-nxO3WxXin7KmhzQLnlbJfxsX5DTH0IdwgZOmpWTsYVvYGlF4PQDE81RLr_viFbi8RkmLp1Rnm5MHsFAECxLomB2ZpCnI5N0p8-vw0MYI6w/s400/006.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5658524185255333250" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">(A door on my street) </div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPk7Vmmsj0wBKMhEvD1OSslHwGasK57_uXjvlyirwucJbB-V4Hwk7-Q-XRFui-t-GK4R9uCbVHj_0iQq0jRVVaII13g0OcMvhdcdWFsQFsbPvmYZhvZC7Mok5Q-yb-VTj7TcOI4Ow0O4Bl/s1600/018.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPk7Vmmsj0wBKMhEvD1OSslHwGasK57_uXjvlyirwucJbB-V4Hwk7-Q-XRFui-t-GK4R9uCbVHj_0iQq0jRVVaII13g0OcMvhdcdWFsQFsbPvmYZhvZC7Mok5Q-yb-VTj7TcOI4Ow0O4Bl/s400/018.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5658524180885612130" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">(Karen, a friend from Davidson and fellow assistant came to visit! She's been placed in Guingamp, a small town twenty minutes by train from here.) </div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVx0raaAphD_q9hZE3c5KWNfXucZY6g0YQeF00oUfXLaW3FcPkiA3WUbszXV7qn_X55Yh_5D1upi_nnnOllKKPLnN6zgRREKi2jMvYl049gVt2fL9M5JBmn_EJmnt6CAD71ybjIH9iS2aD/s1600/025.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVx0raaAphD_q9hZE3c5KWNfXucZY6g0YQeF00oUfXLaW3FcPkiA3WUbszXV7qn_X55Yh_5D1upi_nnnOllKKPLnN6zgRREKi2jMvYl049gVt2fL9M5JBmn_EJmnt6CAD71ybjIH9iS2aD/s400/025.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5658523658226122754" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">(It may be October, but there are flowers in bloom everywhere)</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqcDjpcu-TCzHRfYGYLRDPWMpAfh9Mp7_RvTHVjq4jibHkjbLfa2DmN9HM4Hzm5MdCeBwR1P_hZUx0JitODUUtCwd-pfmqnjyUTsszfAYwuiW2SpMzdRusJ8YeOGTuzrbQWOzmMUhFEnyv/s1600/036.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqcDjpcu-TCzHRfYGYLRDPWMpAfh9Mp7_RvTHVjq4jibHkjbLfa2DmN9HM4Hzm5MdCeBwR1P_hZUx0JitODUUtCwd-pfmqnjyUTsszfAYwuiW2SpMzdRusJ8YeOGTuzrbQWOzmMUhFEnyv/s400/036.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5658523655462587810" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb2KYQ4se_4iSVOtqi9Za0XYITutO1x0-wh1p4fTW1TUesugmnRag2tCEWU4LlvRBobsk0cS5JFhyewStLYPx-f3LWzBWIk2Zfh3t2FscMfcHp1L6ZL80PmN-MYdwqaIbN4lLSzrN9k1ye/s1600/049.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb2KYQ4se_4iSVOtqi9Za0XYITutO1x0-wh1p4fTW1TUesugmnRag2tCEWU4LlvRBobsk0cS5JFhyewStLYPx-f3LWzBWIk2Zfh3t2FscMfcHp1L6ZL80PmN-MYdwqaIbN4lLSzrN9k1ye/s400/049.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5658523650317888434" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">(Me! In front of le Leguer, the river that passes through Lannion. Keep walking along it for a few kilometers and you hit the sea)</div></span>Tylerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05737086706693269068noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3560831325314231772.post-50595201889103997442011-09-09T07:07:00.001-07:002011-09-09T07:07:40.673-07:00cheese breath<div><span class="Apple-style-span">It has suddenly hit me that my departure for France is approaching as swiftly as the winds that ravaged central Texas with wildfires earlier this week, so I’ve come to the conclusion that I need to set some goals for myself, to devise a list of mantras that will remind me to stop and smell the roses (or, more appropriately, take a whiff of that ever-titillating French stench) during my seven-month stint in Bretagne.</span></div><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><span class="Apple-style-span"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><span class="Apple-style-span">Here’s one I came up with today: <b><i>the sign of a good morning is cheese breath</i></b>. These nine words may actually represent the most important philosophy I’ve conceived of to date (after <b><i>a baguette a day keeps the doctor away</i></b>, of course). I’ll illustrate what I mean by it with an account of how I spent this morning.</span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><span class="Apple-style-span"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><span class="Apple-style-span">Working as a barista has inadvertently made me a morning person. When you’re waking up before the crack of dawn several days a week, “sleeping in” means sleeping until 8:30. For me, there’s usually a moment of panic that occurs in those first disorienting seconds of consciousness (<i>Shit! The sun is out! I must be late for work!</i>), but that fear quickly dissipates into the cool morning light as I realize I’ve got the day off. I’ve always enjoyed the morning hours and the calm that accompanies them. They remind me of the summer I worked at a peach stand on the side of the road – of those tranquil moments before an afternoon thunderstorm when time would slow and dark clouds would crawl over the mountains and cast gray-green shadows on the surrounding orchards.</span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><span class="Apple-style-span">Anyway, today as I rolled out of couch, I decided I was going to savor the morning hours. After I showered, I headed to Dolce Vita, a coffee shop at 43<sup>rd</sup> and Duval. Book in hand, I got a large coffee and retreated to the porch, where I read and sipped and listened to the whirring of fans as the cool breeze that has settled over Austin this week carried the scent of pastries from the bakery across the street. I got a refill, sipped more coffee, read the New York Times left behind by some earlier riser, and tried to soak it all in, my mind drifting from one thought to the next as I realized that I officially have one week left in Texas.</span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><span class="Apple-style-span"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><span class="Apple-style-span">All summer, I’ve been eyeing <u><a href="http://www.antonellischeese.com/">Antonelli’s</a></u>, the cheese shop right next door to Dolce Vita. I’ve admired it from afar, imagining myself on the other side of its door but too intimidated (for reasons unbeknownst to me) to cross the threshold. Drunk off my two cups of joe, I decided finally to venture inside. It’s probably for the best that I didn’t go in sooner! This place was amazing, and though I only intended to take a peak, I lacked the self-control to leave empty-handed (and am actually proud that I only spent $7 in there).</span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><span class="Apple-style-span"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span></span>Courtney, the cheesemonger (how cool is that title?) who assisted me, read my ignorance as if it were written on my forehead and immediately began to explain how the cheeses were organized in the case. When I told her I didn’t even know where to start, she suggested – to my extreme delight! – that we just dig in and start sampling. So sample we did! We had a great conversation as I tried about eight different cheeses; I told her about my imminent departure, about my year in Lyon, and she told me stories about her time in Paris, her homemade <i>chèvres</i>, and the intensive training process she went through to work there. I eventually settled on 1/4 lb of delicious <i>pavé de l’Aveyron</i> (my second favorite actually, after the <i>Eposses</i>, which is only sold by the 18-dollar wheel because it’s so creamy it loses its shape). Pictured below, this sheep’s milk cheese has the smooth, creamy texture of <i>Camembert</i>, but with a sharper taste and more pungent aroma. Needless to say, I’m excited to eat it. I’m waiting for just the right moment to cut into it, spread it onto a fresh baguette, and wash it down with a dark red wine.</span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span"></span></o:p></p><span class="Apple-style-span"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9VurTkS5MbwzpSMSoFrvpsR02k_5cbiLPGNGOYZNgFbNXXhyYZwfkkJHSUVfd5xv_fomjRMfF_nRLPOPI1CkcqGPN_nNcHCmEJT2L2X6MAC4FwMUpoNuYVqf5u3jYQyMORC35pqZUp01c/s1600/033.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9VurTkS5MbwzpSMSoFrvpsR02k_5cbiLPGNGOYZNgFbNXXhyYZwfkkJHSUVfd5xv_fomjRMfF_nRLPOPI1CkcqGPN_nNcHCmEJT2L2X6MAC4FwMUpoNuYVqf5u3jYQyMORC35pqZUp01c/s400/033.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5650238013500303682" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQRvo8Ila7oDstiQm6nF86vUQ4eH2CQILRAKze17X1WGma3OL6PS1wg0SxJoB95Nb-kUHwg0Hzulku2DmIIG_Gnf87m5e7554ONyCEt0yQYwe3IEoV47a44qia704Bp-lcn4tHsRuin1D4/s1600/041.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQRvo8Ila7oDstiQm6nF86vUQ4eH2CQILRAKze17X1WGma3OL6PS1wg0SxJoB95Nb-kUHwg0Hzulku2DmIIG_Gnf87m5e7554ONyCEt0yQYwe3IEoV47a44qia704Bp-lcn4tHsRuin1D4/s400/041.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5650237736802165858" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a><br /></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><p class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst">In all seriousness, I do believe <b><i>the sign of a good morning is cheese breath </i></b>is a philosophy worth embracing as I embark on this new journey, because it evokes the following important concepts:</p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst"></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-left: 0.75in; text-indent: -0.25in; "><span><span>-<span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman'; "> <u></u></span></span></span><b><u>Initiative</u>:</b> to venture out, to admit ignorance, to ask questions, to strike up a conversation, to learn, to share</p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0.75in; text-indent: -0.25in; "><span><span>-<span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman'; "> </span></span></span><u><b>Appreciation/Gratitude</b>:</u> of the local culture, of this opportunity, of the transience of this experience (I’ve only got 7 months to get to know this place!), of the kindness and patience of strangers</p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0.75in; text-indent: -0.25in; "><span><span>-<span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman'; "> </span></span></span><b><u>Awareness:</u> </b>of “the little things,” of the small moments,” of the background details (scents and tastes and sounds)</p></span></div><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><span class="Apple-style-span">Can't wait to share my experiences with you and tell you what happens when I put these ideas into practice!</span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><span class="Apple-style-span">In the meantime, here's what I did with my afternoon:</span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></p><span class="Apple-style-span"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2Vo3fI26uWfKdWVHnaEmSNV0HKPAol8bVk4ja_aszMUQejM8_zq2dMURcRuqU0_Pqqh1ddX8BzIj7dUZSff3cHkzd6jiEpG8QNi0qHoO2M9Uw6RriCKSWJAMnt3dmkthkyDslu6wQyvfP/s1600/061.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2Vo3fI26uWfKdWVHnaEmSNV0HKPAol8bVk4ja_aszMUQejM8_zq2dMURcRuqU0_Pqqh1ddX8BzIj7dUZSff3cHkzd6jiEpG8QNi0qHoO2M9Uw6RriCKSWJAMnt3dmkthkyDslu6wQyvfP/s400/061.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5650247058954298018" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a><br /></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4R8hRCE5uZKjYAFnu11tHjl00MLQYkmqypMe1iyJeAlP-yak1-9ZFCr8fl0RjbsEb2TOGZVOao_r5mK5FJd0APha0SUtKMPPyeCXz5DnnZml4PpEAM6-VP6u5rNwGpTmf1twULKNR-aLw/s1600/077.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4R8hRCE5uZKjYAFnu11tHjl00MLQYkmqypMe1iyJeAlP-yak1-9ZFCr8fl0RjbsEb2TOGZVOao_r5mK5FJd0APha0SUtKMPPyeCXz5DnnZml4PpEAM6-VP6u5rNwGpTmf1twULKNR-aLw/s400/077.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5650247053302478930" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8t-I4GfJLqPRHnOcZ8FXO9_XFFCjMIF1Dd1-ukRkLMQph4ES6bQo215C4mrWc0yMJuzbR6YhZFadH0hRd2fCPfjF2IZ0SWFrTW5kwMZ2yH3z0AQpHgiepnrm4REeE8PuC4yhEZ92m3uuo/s1600/105.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8t-I4GfJLqPRHnOcZ8FXO9_XFFCjMIF1Dd1-ukRkLMQph4ES6bQo215C4mrWc0yMJuzbR6YhZFadH0hRd2fCPfjF2IZ0SWFrTW5kwMZ2yH3z0AQpHgiepnrm4REeE8PuC4yhEZ92m3uuo/s400/105.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5650247050698227442" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a><div style="text-align: center; "><i>(olive oil, salt, arugula, cherry tomatoes, lemon juice, garlic, & mozzarella)</i></div><div><i><br /></i></div></span></div>Tylerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05737086706693269068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3560831325314231772.post-12025356449169776642011-07-20T15:03:00.000-07:002011-07-25T19:53:44.405-07:00more words. more sentences.<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span">I’ve got it again: that itch to write. <span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I can feel it surfacing from the wrinkles of my brain, tingling in those crevices where the creative juices have coagulated into several months’ worth of lifeless plaque. Not “lifeless,” exactly; they’re down there, the words, in the dark corridors of my brain, respiratory machines pumping breath into their comatose bodies. But what to make of them? Why this sudden re-urge to write? </span></p><span class="Apple-style-span"> <p class="MsoNormal">Because, to begin with, my birthday in a week somehow marks my official entry into the next phase of my life – into that exceptionally confusing/frighteningly exhilarating chapter they call twenty-three: just beyond the college years. I’m stuck in some strange, “post-grad” limbo as awkward as the fragmented sentences of this post – no longer sprawled out on that plush Davidson cushion, but not quite a citizen of that foreign land known as the Real World, either. We’re not in Kansas anymore, Toto, and Austin’s as weird as Oz (except it’s teeming with <a href="http://thoughtcatalog.com/2011/in-defense-of-hipster/">hipsters</a> instead of munchkins). </p> <p class="MsoNormal">Which brings me to reason number two for my re-entry into the Blogosphere: Austin itself. This is a city worth words, and Austin’s got its own peculiar scent demanding description. My adventure, yesterday, with public transportation reaffirmed – or rather, rendered conscious – the creative itch, as I realized that these are experiences I should be documenting – for myself as much as for you kind souls willing to listen. My life’s as consistent now as it was in college, which is to say that it’s not consistent at all, and I know I’m going to want to remember this fascinating – albeit brief – foray into Austin culture. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">And then, of course, there’s reason number three, the very reason for this blog in the first place, my original muse: France. I’m already starting to smell the sweet, familiar aromas of my Home Away From Home – the baguettes, the wines, the cheeses! Lannion beckons, but it’ll have to wait a couple of months, because life’s too short to live anywhere but the present. I’m a barista now and life is a coffee shop. I’m over-caffeinated and ready to go. But before I embark – before <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">we</i> embark – let’s do it again: let's stop a second, open our eyes and ears, and take a big ol’ whiff of the French Stench, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">Part Deux</i>. </p></span><p></p>Tylerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05737086706693269068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3560831325314231772.post-8429992306088669802010-09-09T18:20:00.000-07:002010-09-09T21:36:37.116-07:00the bench<p class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="line-height: normal; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">My first piece for my creative non-fiction class:</span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="line-height: normal; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">We saw the flag first: a red and white smudge on the distant horizon. It emerged from the water and fluttered behind the approaching boat. The air was thick with smog and humidity, harbingers of rain in a city of thirteen million. Styrofoam bobbled on the water’s edges, rubbing against the grassy silt that coats the banks of the Golden Horn. The warped dock rocked on the heaving waves as boat and captain came into focus. We waited.</span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; "><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span"></span></span></span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Damla, friend and tour guide, had led my brother and me to this remote location. Together we’d spent the morning navigating the gristle of Istanbul’s impossible transportation system. Like blood cells, we swam through the arteries of the pulsing metropolis until we found ourselves removed from the heart, in the knuckles of its arthritic fingers and toes. Our ears rang in the unusual silence as they searched for city sounds. The wind carried the scent of sulfur and water and at times my nostrils tingled with traces of burnt rubber – relics of the abandoned Go Kart track we’d cut through to get here, where weeds pushed through the pavement’s cracks. I scratched circles in the dirt with my weathered Chucks, adding a thin layer of Turkish dust to the coating of thick European grime that already covered their soles. As the boat drew closer, we waited.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; "><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span"></span></span></span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">On the hill behind us lay rows of houses, blocks of color – green, pink, nutty brown – arranged side by side like candies in a variety pack of Turkish delight. They stared down the urban clutter on the other side of the Bosphorous: the minaret-strewn cityscape adorning the postcards that pave Istanbul’s streets. Eventually, boat merged with land and Blake and I shared a glance of mutual understanding. I read disbelief, excitement, and skepticism in his furrowed brow while my own eyes widened with the realization that we were to take this feeble vessel across the Golden Horn. Damla’s lips twitched with smug amusement as she observed this scene with the cool disconnect of an anthropologist. But her smile faded comically as she, too, processed the reality of our impending voyage. </span></span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">How are we all going to fit?</span></span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> she wondered.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; "><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span"></span></span></span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Our fearless captain must have been in his sixties. Though he never opened his mouth, the wrinkles buried in his forehead and the corners of his eyes seemed dusty with words, and he had clearly spent much of his life on the water – on this water. He wore a windbreaker only slightly less faded than the chipped paint of his boat, which was the rich blue of a 100-lira note, and his short gray hair disappeared into the cloudy sky that framed his dark face. With calloused hands, he gestured for us to board his humble ship and braced the wobbling raft with a paddle so that the three of us could pile into it. I climbed in first, steadying myself with a stray piece of rope before sitting down to the right of the captain. Blake embarked next, clumsily supporting himself on my shoulder as he located his place on the seat. After a moment of hesitation, Damla boarded last, anxiously grabbing Blake’s arm as the boat groaned beneath our weight, but loosening her grip once it settled. Though our knees bumped, the three of us nodded to the captain to indicate that we were ready. With a single thrust, he pushed us away from the shore, and as we floated away I watched a young couple replace us on the bench.</span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></span></p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjifcC3idK2cA6nOQNrj3qBCNjHUyRjJhTgVr_XMnp-F8eWSurBOsyQXqnZ2nWsoejo5fZWAm7X6DQhTsiUYKGlpOmSD1APkGAypPS_x_eM1pA9xJjiyfgRE9a0ai8yZqBICwMLvcdabu9J/s1600/100.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 298px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjifcC3idK2cA6nOQNrj3qBCNjHUyRjJhTgVr_XMnp-F8eWSurBOsyQXqnZ2nWsoejo5fZWAm7X6DQhTsiUYKGlpOmSD1APkGAypPS_x_eM1pA9xJjiyfgRE9a0ai8yZqBICwMLvcdabu9J/s400/100.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5515139021142483282" /></a><br /><p class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="line-height:normal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p>Tylerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05737086706693269068noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3560831325314231772.post-66996219865744627492010-08-11T20:47:00.000-07:002010-08-11T21:12:10.155-07:00all quiet on the creative front: what happened to the stench?<div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';">Readers, are you still out there? Probably not. My fault.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';">This blog is now full of gaping holes and empty promises. Istanbul? That happened? </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';">It's hard to breathe life into words now that I no longer find myself confronted constantly by inspiring places and events. No more Le Troquet des Sens for this weary blogger. All I've got is Mudhouse. And frankly it just ain't cuttin' it. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';">Perhaps Summit, in just over a week, will carry this (or maybe another?) project forward. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';">Until then (maybe): </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><br /></span></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHBZktBffmBgs6SlybZ4949nNwzb0epeO5ogSQXp5ixTWakcQ2O-qV7I0-HvKJUXGf5V8eGCsQVGjns6oT0AY1UslbuyRquMHGONivh9sLTWkvByhCwFQRe7AvJsLxFXuNwNs0PgPkrgjM/s1600/378.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHBZktBffmBgs6SlybZ4949nNwzb0epeO5ogSQXp5ixTWakcQ2O-qV7I0-HvKJUXGf5V8eGCsQVGjns6oT0AY1UslbuyRquMHGONivh9sLTWkvByhCwFQRe7AvJsLxFXuNwNs0PgPkrgjM/s400/378.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5504367909077153538" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';">(red, <b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF0000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">r</span></span></b>efl<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF0000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">e</span></span></b>cte<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF0000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">d</span></span></b>)</span></span></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><br /></span></span></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; "><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0e8ty9wD101jse2spV27ChQchyu3dqjubVieHFcEdFcalNYLRk0GKgb3wFQeWt9bjOEFQ1W9AVbomHrS0eHoFlDgtZTW50-awcKmNt8sMcLz07xz6AOdCf0kGfLZYFLtGwfF-cl0coXcG/s1600/451_2.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0e8ty9wD101jse2spV27ChQchyu3dqjubVieHFcEdFcalNYLRk0GKgb3wFQeWt9bjOEFQ1W9AVbomHrS0eHoFlDgtZTW50-awcKmNt8sMcLz07xz6AOdCf0kGfLZYFLtGwfF-cl0coXcG/s400/451_2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5504368296216059938" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px; " /></a></span></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';">(minarets and silhouettes) </span></span></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><br /></span></span></i></div><div><br /></div>Tylerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05737086706693269068noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3560831325314231772.post-72449438267542122632010-06-21T17:57:00.001-07:002010-06-21T18:04:29.721-07:00it's summer<div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';">This is how I imagine summer mornings in Paris or the </span></span><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OvMVCHhwTPs"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';">South of France</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';">. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><br /></span></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidPpjhOjQlnMvilwQlmyklcLmBBhyphenhyphennXZUqWrYDVqMWOy-hXNTn58y0GDXlgt8hkCDwtbVdJ-ARrPFdzU7-gMsKHNTKY0STHyGlXbeF0HEvdvde0BgIxW61eaQaZ8P4b8bSFsqmN4cSbT-7/s1600/001_2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidPpjhOjQlnMvilwQlmyklcLmBBhyphenhyphennXZUqWrYDVqMWOy-hXNTn58y0GDXlgt8hkCDwtbVdJ-ARrPFdzU7-gMsKHNTKY0STHyGlXbeF0HEvdvde0BgIxW61eaQaZ8P4b8bSFsqmN4cSbT-7/s400/001_2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485396547308363682" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';">(<i>un</i></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"> p'tit déj' parisien)</span></i></div></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj74vmVvyQhgZD_Ombj0c2bXZ9rFM_cXJ7JT5HSkDXk-PRB1wVuMsof9KyGGsYWvsY3oCgbsRrcPHtlm_vzKHJWXlToMGjXsB1VFBbVuKgCpgEt23XUFqNd_7oErsEAYi15bln_VhJP_axC/s1600/008_2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj74vmVvyQhgZD_Ombj0c2bXZ9rFM_cXJ7JT5HSkDXk-PRB1wVuMsof9KyGGsYWvsY3oCgbsRrcPHtlm_vzKHJWXlToMGjXsB1VFBbVuKgCpgEt23XUFqNd_7oErsEAYi15bln_VhJP_axC/s400/008_2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485396377442305714" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';">(blackberry </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';">confiture</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';">)</span></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-size:medium;">Wish I were over there, you have no idea. </span></span></div>Tylerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05737086706693269068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3560831325314231772.post-28179614990303993702010-05-23T16:17:00.000-07:002010-05-23T16:25:40.247-07:00obligatorty sentimental pre-departure post.<div style="text-align: center;"><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Bear with me as I get all sentimental: </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Currently writing this on the final leg of our journey back to </span></span><st1:country-region st="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">France</span></span></st1:country-region><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> from </span></span><st1:country-region st="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Turkey</span></span></st1:country-region><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> and surprised at how natural it feels – how strangely comfortable it is – to be going “home” to </span></span><st1:place st="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Lyon</span></span></st1:place><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">. </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Which worries me. Before leaving for </span></span><st1:country-region st="on"><st1:place st="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Turkey</span></span></st1:place></st1:country-region><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> (and many of you can attest to this) I was wishing time away, thinking of little more than my rapidly (although at the time it felt much slower) approaching return to the States. For some reason, I found myself in a rut deeper than any other I’d experienced over the course of the past 9 months. And at the time, I convinced myself that this was a good thing more than a bad thing. Not because I </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">wanted</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> to leave </span></span><st1:country-region st="on"><st1:place st="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">France</span></span></st1:place></st1:country-region><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">, but because I figured it’d make the transition back into American life that much easier. </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">But being in </span></span><st1:city st="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Istanbul</span></span></st1:city><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> and away from </span></span><st1:place st="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Lyon</span></span></st1:place><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> for six days made me realize how intensely I’m going to miss this place. After the first day, I was already going through croissant and baguette withdrawal; I was eating delicious Turkish delicacies, but part of me just wanted a 4 Saisons sandwich from my favorite boulangerie; and surrounded by Turkish, of which I don’t speak a single word, I felt an odd sense of solidarity when we passed groups of French tourists. </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">In general, I think the most shocking realization was the discovery that I have, and was excited to get back to, my comfort zone in </span></span><st1:country-region st="on"><st1:place st="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">France</span></span></st1:place></st1:country-region><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">. Especially since so much of this experience has been about </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">leaving</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> the ol’ comfort zone back in the </span></span><st1:country-region st="on"><st1:place st="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">U.S.</span></span></st1:place></st1:country-region><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> It’s going to be so strange going home, but I think it’ll be interesting to see how I’ve changed…</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></o:p></p> <div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Anyway, enough of that. Mama Atwood gets here in 6 hours, and the two of us hit up </span></span><st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Paris</span></span></st1:place></st1:city><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> in just a couple of days! I will write about the magic that is </span></span><st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Istanbul</span></span></st1:place></st1:city><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> when I get home. Until then, here’s a little taste:</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEginlctc-Ms4mfYRK3yoUFy9rY5zslwNO_WDYr1lCTFKUcAir2CMA6IWc8bDqwPDKq1X6sCQpvs0hPrROWb5IPEaG22rxhBIviSdnGauj5uDD22BaQReK1qgwRsHtZ8tqJMnvzb6Yu2P33E/s1600/478.JPG"><img style="text-align: left;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px; " src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEginlctc-Ms4mfYRK3yoUFy9rY5zslwNO_WDYr1lCTFKUcAir2CMA6IWc8bDqwPDKq1X6sCQpvs0hPrROWb5IPEaG22rxhBIviSdnGauj5uDD22BaQReK1qgwRsHtZ8tqJMnvzb6Yu2P33E/s400/478.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5474609057958343650" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">(sunset view from the rooftop terrace of our hotel) </span></span></div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div>Tylerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05737086706693269068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3560831325314231772.post-62584135787970510682010-05-07T09:49:00.000-07:002010-05-07T10:10:47.366-07:00ces petits moments<div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I know I just posted pictures of my shoes, but wanted to document this </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">petit moment</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">. Every day, the morning sun pours into my yellow room through the filter of sheer, orange curtains that, I must admit, I used to hate but have since come to appreciate. And then it disappears behind the building for the rest of the day -- except for about twenty minutes in the early evening, when it somehow reflects off of the window of an apartment across the courtyard and into my room again. This is hands down one of my favorite moments of the day. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Today when it happened, I was sitting in my bed listening to some <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FtOnnXNH30g">favorite tunes from last semester</a>, checking out the headlines on NYTimes.com, and sipping on hot coffee. I paused to take a snapshot of my shoes bathing in the warm light. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimOtWc-gBoS-Tu1ttg3r9SYe-TQh7f-bFTyrYyzHuD5jeAz6m66NGZMwQS0pdpAmhBt2N2rDGQxlNuyy-RZumuUAvUfh3WjNDQi6sdeTzJW759fPP6TrXXPVMj74Ne4PMS35oZC1yUBmaL/s1600/0052.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimOtWc-gBoS-Tu1ttg3r9SYe-TQh7f-bFTyrYyzHuD5jeAz6m66NGZMwQS0pdpAmhBt2N2rDGQxlNuyy-RZumuUAvUfh3WjNDQi6sdeTzJW759fPP6TrXXPVMj74Ne4PMS35oZC1yUBmaL/s400/0052.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468571520582245714" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I think I'm gonna miss moments like this. </span></span>Tylerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05737086706693269068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3560831325314231772.post-77276422021262564512010-05-05T11:02:00.000-07:002010-05-05T16:52:23.696-07:00la flemme!<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">French lesson of the day:</span></span><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></i></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Expression: </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">J'ai la flemme!</span></span></i></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><i></i>[Rough] Translation: I'm straight up lazy.</span></span></div><div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">3 finals down, 2 to go, and never before have I been in such a raw state of lethargy. Reasons for my sluggishness:</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">- An entire school year without work has left me with the attention span of a 3-year-old.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">- The pressure of all of my grades coming down to one final exam has done the exact opposite of motivate me. I just don't care.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">- Spring was a tease. Welcome back, winter. (Current "feels like" temperature: 35. It's May, folks.) Also, 10-day forecast: rain.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">My body's in France but I think my mind's already back in the States. The fact that I've accepted my inevitable departure (in 26 days - the final countdown </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">has</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> begun) has made me restless, and I just can't wait to be home. Don't get me wrong, I love it here and there are SO many things I'm going to miss about France. And if I still had several months here, I know I wouldn't be feeling like this.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Perhaps I should heed my own advice, though, and appreciate the days I have left here instead of wishing time away or realizing that my year abroad is coming to such a speedy close. There are still so many things to look forward to before I'm back in Crozet. In particular:</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">- Blake's arrival in 8 days! I don't know if Lyon is ready for us.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">- ISTANBUL in 13 days! Turkey's <i>definitely</i> not</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> ready for us.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">- Mom's arrival in 19 days!</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">- Paris in 21 days!</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">- Packing (sarcasm. don't even want to </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">start</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> thinking about the burden of stuffing the last 8 months into one suitcase.)</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Best discovery of the day: one of the coolest bookstores I've ever been to. So many dusty, leather-bound books! In a rare moment of self control, I left the store <i>les mains vides </i>(empty-handed). Liz should be grateful she didn't have to drag my wailing body out of there. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTy6bSKaenuT6XmQv4_B16FvuBmW2J84V45npTdYCbDWVkgN_nXjsgYMVp0ESfCnwwtyJcgN6Ihp7ngRLRh3Alb-j07WE7LPaFismzzTj7QnCFBG4RHD-sgBR0IzQ3C4-FRiATV1AZYL5R/s1600/0032.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTy6bSKaenuT6XmQv4_B16FvuBmW2J84V45npTdYCbDWVkgN_nXjsgYMVp0ESfCnwwtyJcgN6Ihp7ngRLRh3Alb-j07WE7LPaFismzzTj7QnCFBG4RHD-sgBR0IzQ3C4-FRiATV1AZYL5R/s400/0032.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467859075156871058" /></a><br /><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinsYDY7KcfHL0ONDI-NcmMDgWgnq6yY0VytjF8sqiDxe77xDp08rCt8ejAfZfEfUtvIuaFPuOz0WWHMsalsfzD1wveqh8m9atiSQsIe5B9hpBnuguPdFHlg3oc2Guf9zBfMsBi9CvbcOf8/s1600/0092.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinsYDY7KcfHL0ONDI-NcmMDgWgnq6yY0VytjF8sqiDxe77xDp08rCt8ejAfZfEfUtvIuaFPuOz0WWHMsalsfzD1wveqh8m9atiSQsIe5B9hpBnuguPdFHlg3oc2Guf9zBfMsBi9CvbcOf8/s400/0092.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467858946877177634" /></a><br /><div><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisz3PftQWaVVT0ueHdEc_7IL6MMhzQhWOBUDq6Icv8CxMx30n5yGoB5eb4lliZUlS0x-YjhE7TsUwJP48MT43lCdQxIQaMmz6uUgocdOt11z4iOF_maDsIGmWUHb1NJFl-pMapXVGzhLau/s1600/0102.jpg"></a></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisz3PftQWaVVT0ueHdEc_7IL6MMhzQhWOBUDq6Icv8CxMx30n5yGoB5eb4lliZUlS0x-YjhE7TsUwJP48MT43lCdQxIQaMmz6uUgocdOt11z4iOF_maDsIGmWUHb1NJFl-pMapXVGzhLau/s1600/0102.jpg"><img style="text-align: center;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisz3PftQWaVVT0ueHdEc_7IL6MMhzQhWOBUDq6Icv8CxMx30n5yGoB5eb4lliZUlS0x-YjhE7TsUwJP48MT43lCdQxIQaMmz6uUgocdOt11z4iOF_maDsIGmWUHb1NJFl-pMapXVGzhLau/s400/0102.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467858785522596914" /></a><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';">(if only I could justify buying a 45€ copy of Aesop's fables in French</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';">when my books alone are going to put me over my 50-pound limit...)<span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;"> </span></span></div></div></div></div>Tylerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05737086706693269068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3560831325314231772.post-64583448106053948052010-05-02T14:51:00.000-07:002010-05-03T15:15:08.684-07:00if these shoes could talk...<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Because my Chucks can say more about the last 8 months than I ever could...</span></span><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9Mduw2u_YmQ6mwSEig_JeUbi6wEJxhiFsg3xIArqXADQ7oWEAwTPoPQBbUU1j3G33ONpHDsXQ7E4GG6Y-Vyw2a7IXmvRdanbNcMT2Nonsa2exFuW7U7iDLOQQRKcSpQIPZTLq9uGrumlf/s1600/0202.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9Mduw2u_YmQ6mwSEig_JeUbi6wEJxhiFsg3xIArqXADQ7oWEAwTPoPQBbUU1j3G33ONpHDsXQ7E4GG6Y-Vyw2a7IXmvRdanbNcMT2Nonsa2exFuW7U7iDLOQQRKcSpQIPZTLq9uGrumlf/s320/0202.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466794396418631042" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFjA30jlAXYZ0nO0flTODG3fdcGvRpxXO55RwL_qgv2VORpQ-AarevJINlM7GijgcMjjtt74bKvetBgQpl6jL9b-XSz0SUwO5_21LPJUB2peIFvDVlsdSACTd6BmkKsNIOok0nkWGV7Yps/s1600/0203.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFjA30jlAXYZ0nO0flTODG3fdcGvRpxXO55RwL_qgv2VORpQ-AarevJINlM7GijgcMjjtt74bKvetBgQpl6jL9b-XSz0SUwO5_21LPJUB2peIFvDVlsdSACTd6BmkKsNIOok0nkWGV7Yps/s320/0203.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466794309021355778" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVbcaP-jyXBVIyEnelP05I_jLjTZvSziaE87T62oFCy_VogrbODzJwvlOQl6ZT6LPWCntQ6bzp6vLpomlAE9_J0SbImjFLFwHhpYepzbn27u7GWyyWIVBWFsP6DIZvSUEu5ERvZVM1QY8v/s1600/0204.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVbcaP-jyXBVIyEnelP05I_jLjTZvSziaE87T62oFCy_VogrbODzJwvlOQl6ZT6LPWCntQ6bzp6vLpomlAE9_J0SbImjFLFwHhpYepzbn27u7GWyyWIVBWFsP6DIZvSUEu5ERvZVM1QY8v/s320/0204.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466794219354018834" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJn7pEgUTfvrx77kTu1swlfYMbATVM4X98ZFmhDvwhl04B6240Q5AaNQW7SH_GewV3jTQrvZIYjIM5JFRJVSt41D8fl3KXnIAo0i7HO3ugTeXV8nMDY-QW4_H1RgbzsVNV_1LyZfOXlBJn/s1600/0205.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJn7pEgUTfvrx77kTu1swlfYMbATVM4X98ZFmhDvwhl04B6240Q5AaNQW7SH_GewV3jTQrvZIYjIM5JFRJVSt41D8fl3KXnIAo0i7HO3ugTeXV8nMDY-QW4_H1RgbzsVNV_1LyZfOXlBJn/s320/0205.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466794109019602386" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnXXmm6WpawpUIg9IQ4h-wRJGFyDFh6XTN_CHHQKuaCfvHBVAxIcoiRoDw4zuap9GArHKKxuQIVnve5d12filG89NT5AikFl8_dpUa5CCnULBN6qD0ljERkqsNmhbDcFLEihiWmCKdQEpu/s1600/00206.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 168px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnXXmm6WpawpUIg9IQ4h-wRJGFyDFh6XTN_CHHQKuaCfvHBVAxIcoiRoDw4zuap9GArHKKxuQIVnve5d12filG89NT5AikFl8_dpUa5CCnULBN6qD0ljERkqsNmhbDcFLEihiWmCKdQEpu/s320/00206.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466794002116764514" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><br /></span></div>Tylerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05737086706693269068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3560831325314231772.post-55009899964789463262010-05-01T09:32:00.000-07:002010-05-01T10:38:15.933-07:00may day muguet<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixsfr1T6JeJLoNthx2YwReNzT1M4WdbkeVLR8epUlN2FdOJ5V0Dw-KC1Q1u-6YvZUHlRtRy1XaUXJfEqR5-TJJve2Bu5OQ9ckVek231Etjk04UoNOM0UoNuA3ay4PB-xCaBiE-o0gcleKx/s1600/0052.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixsfr1T6JeJLoNthx2YwReNzT1M4WdbkeVLR8epUlN2FdOJ5V0Dw-KC1Q1u-6YvZUHlRtRy1XaUXJfEqR5-TJJve2Bu5OQ9ckVek231Etjk04UoNOM0UoNuA3ay4PB-xCaBiE-o0gcleKx/s400/0052.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466340511169528882" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Special shout-out to JL and Anna for these May Day </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">muguets</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">!<br /></span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">May 1st is Labor Day in France, which means pretty much nothing is open. But it's also a tradition for people to sell tiny bouquets of these flowers (called <i>muguet</i> or "lily of the valley") on the street, which you're supposed to give to friends and family. Kind of neat. </span></span></div>Tylerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05737086706693269068noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3560831325314231772.post-50227332495379899122010-04-29T09:12:00.001-07:002010-04-29T09:33:27.543-07:00audrey tautou and team tandoori<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I’m determined to soak up as much sun as possible, but also ashamed about my lack of blogging. So today I compromise: I’m currently sitting in the quiet courtyard outside of my apartment, where the sun’s early-afternoon rays create a speckled show of light and shadow before hiding themselves behind the building for the hottest part of the day. I’m probably straining my eyes to the point of blindness to see the screen and text beyond the sunny glare but it’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make. </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Many modifications need to be made to the post before this because things have certainly changed. First and foremost (and perhaps saddest of all) is the fact that Paul and I are no longer getting chickens. Please take the time you need to process this news and its implications (no fresh omelets?!) before moving on. Unfortunately, Paul’s dad made him warn the neighbors that we’d be housing two </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">poules</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> in our miniature back yard, and some bitter single woman on the 6th </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">étage</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> (that’s the 7</span></span><sup><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">th</span></span></sup><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> floor, folks) rejected the idea. People on the 7</span></span><sup><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">th</span></span></sup><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> floor shouldn’t even get a vote. Anyone need a chicken coop? </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Anyway, here’s a question for you guys to ponder: who knew volcanoes (and </span></span><st1:country-region st="on"><st1:place st="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Iceland</span></span></st1:place></st1:country-region><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> at that) were things worthy of our attention? After a tedious series of plane cancellations and reschedulings, my mom decided to postpone her visit to the end of May. Which, along with a most conveniently timed SNCF strike, left </span></span><st1:city st="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Tyler</span></span></st1:city><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> stranded in </span></span><st1:place st="on"><st1:city st="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Paris</span></span></st1:city></st1:place><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> for 5 days. </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Stranded</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">? In </span></span><st1:place st="on"><st1:city st="on"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Paris</span></span></i></st1:city></st1:place><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">? Life is hard.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8U2tWIGC7rCg_Rau_sK_Inl-reoyc5Pj_apaVwGAcKl9Vnnwfwb-v4dqHkmgnYuo-x-6JkXKW78LK0VISuL-Mx8O5gEGRPO45sasP_zrCzKV5dqBPbmWjlI9oROw9yCLYHuTt51WBRn40/s1600/121.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8U2tWIGC7rCg_Rau_sK_Inl-reoyc5Pj_apaVwGAcKl9Vnnwfwb-v4dqHkmgnYuo-x-6JkXKW78LK0VISuL-Mx8O5gEGRPO45sasP_zrCzKV5dqBPbmWjlI9oROw9yCLYHuTt51WBRn40/s400/121.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5465593881995477170" /></a><div><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Luckily, I spent very little time alone. When I wasn’t visiting museums (a grand total of five), drinking coffee (I am obsessed with Paris’ café culture – they are everywhere!), or seeing plays starring <a href="http://slowlygoingbald.com/images/tautou1.jpg">Audrey Tautou</a> from the second row of the Théâtre de la Madeleine, I had Gina, a friend from governor’s school who’s been studying abroad there all year, show me some of the finer aspects of Paris, most of which involved food. I finally fulfilled my 3-month-old craving for blueberry pancakes at Breakfast in </span></span><st1:country-region st="on"><st1:place st="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">America</span></span></st1:place></st1:country-region><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">, an experience that made all 129,600 minutes of waiting worth it. [Interjection: a balloon just hit me in the head. No idea where it came from.] Also delicious were Berthillon ice cream and the yummy chicken dinner served by Gina and her friends at her host-family-free apartment on Saturday night. Additionally, I was fortunate enough to meet up with Kimberly, a friend from Davidson studying abroad in </span></span><st1:city st="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Paris</span></span></st1:city><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">, and we added a free play at the Théâtre le </span></span><st1:city st="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Temple</span></span></st1:city><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> to our food list of Pizza Pino and falafel in the Place des </span></span><st1:place st="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Vosges</span></span></st1:place><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">. Liz, a friend from my program in Lyon, made it up to Paris Sunday afternoon with her mom, and in addition to being graciously treated to an Italian risotto dinner, Liz and I wandered up and down the Champs-Elysées before we got ice cream and I returned to my hotel to prepare for my early-morning train back to Lyon (which I reserved only after waiting in line for over an hour and a half at the Gare de Lyon Saturday afternoon). </span></span></p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2l4gAkVYUamOyI6SbZ9zizox6GZfIXXZy17LT5GTmmLLyJRBr0JoBO9dJfKI-9OQ072_SP9Gg34Ic7wmW_PUD0S8Kypcn5BlUbKkrUuDc54ylqK3mhlpHZ-o2wck7_fshvNTunediY0Ks/s1600/176_2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 225px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2l4gAkVYUamOyI6SbZ9zizox6GZfIXXZy17LT5GTmmLLyJRBr0JoBO9dJfKI-9OQ072_SP9Gg34Ic7wmW_PUD0S8Kypcn5BlUbKkrUuDc54ylqK3mhlpHZ-o2wck7_fshvNTunediY0Ks/s400/176_2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5465593538773097730" /></a></div><div><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I was in </span></span><st1:place st="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Lyon</span></span></st1:place><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> for a grand total of 3 hours before JL and I met up for a terrace lunch at Au Petit Café Rose and spontaneously decided to buy train tickets to Nice. (Her trip to </span></span><st1:place st="on"><st1:country-region st="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Greece</span></span></st1:country-region></st1:place><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> was canceled because of the volcano.) After about a day and a half of studying (read: napping) in the sun next to the Rhône, she and I boarded, along with Ned, our train to Nice and rolled into the city’s beautiful </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">gare</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> around 11:30. Franny, a friend from Crozet doing a teaching assistantship in Nice was kind enough to let us crash in her apartment for the two nights we were there, and she showed us such a good time! In hindsight, we did very little that didn’t involve food, the sun, or beer. I think what struck us most about the city was all of its color: the bright oranges/corals/yellows of the buildings in Vieux Nice, the magnificent shades of Mediterranean blue…in Nice you are constantly confronted with a palette of vibrantly beautiful colors. </span></span></p></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM3RyBgF-wxFVrbIa3nhPXYfAiOucfeCE6BQj6DLeWItvaoP6EuNWObCl_utR4E6bDKuhj1dI1ciXuE84qUQ0bejcDcXdbCN-RkgDv0FK4Ss62DsTJqQnpU25iinuw_FS-_EBUTS7EIM3D/s1600/005_2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 225px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM3RyBgF-wxFVrbIa3nhPXYfAiOucfeCE6BQj6DLeWItvaoP6EuNWObCl_utR4E6bDKuhj1dI1ciXuE84qUQ0bejcDcXdbCN-RkgDv0FK4Ss62DsTJqQnpU25iinuw_FS-_EBUTS7EIM3D/s400/005_2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5465593343218312450" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9tJBWfTuMdu7YJ-ul4YixXRCR91MGagEvm6RXUkymsRmK2G21OhHhwu51T_0pyVXcvC7_pWNDdh0yjwoJqqV0a_Anru2ckrE88iMHCLVpLe3VufiVuR94OdK3388-YmVWt0nzqg8zJaXZ/s1600/021_2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 225px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9tJBWfTuMdu7YJ-ul4YixXRCR91MGagEvm6RXUkymsRmK2G21OhHhwu51T_0pyVXcvC7_pWNDdh0yjwoJqqV0a_Anru2ckrE88iMHCLVpLe3VufiVuR94OdK3388-YmVWt0nzqg8zJaXZ/s400/021_2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5465593256259461954" /></a></div><div><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Activities included: Indian Lounge, the best Indian restaurant I’ve ever been to (I had what was easily among my top 3 favorite meals in </span></span><st1:country-region st="on"><st1:place st="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">France). W</span></span></st1:place></st1:country-region><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">atching the OL soccer game at a bar called Thor on Wednesday night. Lounging on the rocky beach all day Thursday followed by a raspberry-lime milkshake at Fenocchio and then pub quiz at Ma Nolan’s. Crêpe lunch with Franny before catching our rainy-day train back to </span></span><st1:place st="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Lyon</span></span></st1:place><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> Friday afternoon. </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">In short, Spring Break ’10 (part two I suppose) was completely unexpected but entirely satisfying. It was so nice to get away for a while, but at the same time it's always comforting to return to a familar place. Spent the weekend in a happy stupor before returning to earth to study for the two finals I had this week. 2 down, 3 to go, and it’s the weekend. Time to meet up with my favorite Austrians for a picnic on the </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">berges</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">. </span></span></p></div>Tylerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05737086706693269068noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3560831325314231772.post-87580633384108443032010-04-13T11:55:00.000-07:002010-04-13T13:05:47.884-07:00pissenlit pause<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Spent a </span></span><b><u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">much-needed</span></span></u></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> (can’t emphasize this enough) but inevitably short weekend in the country. Words can’t even begin to describe how nice it was to get away from the tangibly heavy gray of </span></span><st1:place st="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Lyon</span></span></st1:place><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> and bask in the colorful French </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">campagne</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">, where sweeping streaks of sky blue intersect with grass green, and splotches of bright yellow and terracotta red cut through the landscape as if smeared on with palette knife. </span></span></p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNAOlfFQxtI2qwhJpjYvuxRQiN0w2U2yRVacOnYgSzcGzELzS1Micjpf9wanftQBuTwjUUd5dR0PjgGeZKBj8SdYHbma5e_pTgVhmWdmAzBRwH12gBIlpiRfvenSpMTGuTgwrGuXGe6q9q/s1600/082_2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 225px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNAOlfFQxtI2qwhJpjYvuxRQiN0w2U2yRVacOnYgSzcGzELzS1Micjpf9wanftQBuTwjUUd5dR0PjgGeZKBj8SdYHbma5e_pTgVhmWdmAzBRwH12gBIlpiRfvenSpMTGuTgwrGuXGe6q9q/s400/082_2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459698419176522290" /></a><div><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Due to last week’s SNCF </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">grève</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> (what?! strikes?!), Paul and I had to catch our bus Saturday morning from far-away end-of-the-metro Gare de Vaise. Unintended advantage: the trip only cost 2€! We made our way from city outskirts through industrial </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">banlieues</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> then rural villages before arriving 45 minutes later at the Villefranche-sur-Saône (birthplace of Claudius Crozet!) train station, where we were greeted by friendly-faced Madame Michel and driven to Paul’s house in Frans. </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></o:p></p> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">After a delicious home-cooked meal (one of many served to me graciously by Mme and M Michel), Paul and I spent the afternoon planning and constructing a chicken coop. That’s right, come May 1 he and I will welcome two feathered friends into our proud 65 rue Pasteur family, a prospect about which we are both very excited. Updates to come, but do know that omelet-craving visitors are encouraged to come over. Below is an image of the finished product, a fine piece of craftsmanship given our limited resources (this puppy is constructed from scraps lying around the garage and therefore a total of four types of wood) and amateur carpentry skills: </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcOKK8IiYoM3V80ikAU2wHi3pHeO-kSEkXyF63dV6VxxayXO6wB4Ktt1a0mRvxyGRHm0Ag-SIYXc0esIOMOsCJEyU4vy_53BIrgTT6Kt3LP0dFo0Q2z66hH5uhXFPtYYMtjs9KVKCwh4yh/s1600/091.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcOKK8IiYoM3V80ikAU2wHi3pHeO-kSEkXyF63dV6VxxayXO6wB4Ktt1a0mRvxyGRHm0Ag-SIYXc0esIOMOsCJEyU4vy_53BIrgTT6Kt3LP0dFo0Q2z66hH5uhXFPtYYMtjs9KVKCwh4yh/s400/091.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459698306219427634" /></a><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Otherwise, time was spent reading and drinking coffee on the porch, driving along meandering dirt roads straddled on either side by kilometers of sprawling fields, being treated to a dinner of pizza and wine by Marie’s parents at house-turned-restaurant Chez Dany, and visiting Paul’s fowl-owning friend Pierre whose house – built by his father – is probably one of the most charming ones I’ve seen in France. In other words, the weekend was all about taking advantage of the sun and beautiful weather as much as possible before returning begrudgingly to </span></span><st1:place st="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Lyon</span></span></st1:place><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">. The </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">campagne</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> spoils me. </span></span></p></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><br /></span></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8DAUlZy7Fo4ZFOpM9ruahPyFFtQGixfxcJfyUt5zOOiSZlaYDTvC9GhneQxou5fGS_lJuITfWiotK_rvFG9Dakt_5M1A-sbiNDslu7OpKm4TGVClr9RyPOiQCt8V6uFkxJLOclqKJEzZA/s1600/083_2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 225px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8DAUlZy7Fo4ZFOpM9ruahPyFFtQGixfxcJfyUt5zOOiSZlaYDTvC9GhneQxou5fGS_lJuITfWiotK_rvFG9Dakt_5M1A-sbiNDslu7OpKm4TGVClr9RyPOiQCt8V6uFkxJLOclqKJEzZA/s400/083_2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459698070605649826" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzhBcYKJXvBIZDGdEriZBjf4uQ5iubysO1e9P9LO2sIc0mccosWKzDuxTm5yTEWmHEkBVuBiC5kYHUXPmsLDSiTy_DXxCoq953Bf7nejgbaMNJAcalhO-MhtT6hJiD7zHNYDKa-OWsIwlS/s1600/088_2.jpg"></a></span></span></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzhBcYKJXvBIZDGdEriZBjf4uQ5iubysO1e9P9LO2sIc0mccosWKzDuxTm5yTEWmHEkBVuBiC5kYHUXPmsLDSiTy_DXxCoq953Bf7nejgbaMNJAcalhO-MhtT6hJiD7zHNYDKa-OWsIwlS/s1600/088_2.jpg"><img style="text-align: left;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px; " src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzhBcYKJXvBIZDGdEriZBjf4uQ5iubysO1e9P9LO2sIc0mccosWKzDuxTm5yTEWmHEkBVuBiC5kYHUXPmsLDSiTy_DXxCoq953Bf7nejgbaMNJAcalhO-MhtT6hJiD7zHNYDKa-OWsIwlS/s400/088_2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459697989778203010" /></a></div><div><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I leave tomorrow for </span></span><st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Paris</span></span></st1:place></st1:city><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">, where I’ll spend two days alone attending plays, visiting museums, and wandering around its many and varied </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">quartiers</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> before Mom meets me there Friday morning! From </span></span><st1:city st="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Paris</span></span></st1:city><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> we’ll head to the </span></span><st1:state st="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Normandy</span></span></st1:state><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> coast where we’ll discover </span></span><st1:address st="on"><st1:street st="on"><st1:address st="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Mont St</span></span></st1:address></st1:street><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">. Michel</span></span></st1:address><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">, the D-Day beaches, and hopefully eat lots of yummy cheese, and then we’ll end our mini French tour</span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">in </span></span><st1:place st="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Lyon</span></span></st1:place><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">. I’m so excited about her visit; it certainly couldn’t come at a better time, and I can’t wait to introduce her to this country. Echoing my conversation with Liz earlier today, time is passing ridiculously quickly, but I’m oddly comfortable with – and even looking forward to – my return to </span></span><st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Charlottesville</span></span></st1:place></st1:city><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> in just a month and a half. And when I get bored of that, I’m reassured by the fact that it’s only a matter of time before I return to </span></span><st1:country-region st="on"><st1:place st="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">France</span></span></st1:place></st1:country-region><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> for who knows how long… </span></span></p></div>Tylerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05737086706693269068noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3560831325314231772.post-63455503291993988382010-04-05T23:55:00.000-07:002010-04-07T02:07:18.161-07:00"monsieur _____ n'est pas là aujourd'hui. il s'excuse."<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Copy and paste the post below this into a tidy mental document and welcome yourselves to the redundancy that is my life. </span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">When I first started this blog, and particularly during the first two weeks of the semester when many of my classes were canceled, I considered sharing with you some of these stories because I thought them something extraordinary. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">How wrong I was. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Since then, class cancellations have become a mundane, albeit irritating, part of </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">la vie française</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">, occurring on a weekly (if not twice-weekly) basis and almost always without warning. And when you've already only got six classes a week and therefore more free time than you know what to do with, this is something that gets really old really fast. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">But I guess this is all just part of the authentic French experience I was looking for, right? </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">P.S. This is seriously not helping my already severe lack of motivation. </span><a href="http://www.kf6nvr.net/blog/archives/images/computing_stress.jpg"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Davidson workload</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">, I never thought I'd say this, but </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">tu me manques</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">. Yes, I </span></span><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">am </span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">that desperate. </span></span></span></b></div>Tylerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05737086706693269068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3560831325314231772.post-35128585877528367682010-03-23T04:34:00.000-07:002010-03-23T06:04:53.596-07:00this keeps happening to me...<div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Alarm goes off at 6h50. Immediately press snooze.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">5 minutes later, it goes off again. Snooze.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Pattern </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">cyclique</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">7h15 now. Coffee’s on the stove, don’t remember how it got there.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Hot and hurried shower. Hastily </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">habillé</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Coffee’s ready, bubbling, steamy. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Timid tongue, small sips: still too<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span> hot.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Acidic orange, juice beads strung together at the corners of my </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span> </span>mouth, toast-and-jam<span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">crunch.</span></span></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Empty inbox, ten degrees Celsius and sunny, so early that </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span> </span>friends from home are online. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Conversations of clicks and taps, then</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Goodnight! - Good day!</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">7h45: backpack back-packed, straight-shot four-block walk.</span></span></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Matin </span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">smokefog greeting at the IEP entrée. “</span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Bienvenue!</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">”</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Flyer dodge, paper pick-up, climbing stairs two by two.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I’m early.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Today’s news stained with ink-smeared thumbprints.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">….Waiting, waiting…Speculation.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">8h30: still no prof. Proof?</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Departing by threes and twos ‘til we’re one: me.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">No class, no word.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Typical.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">On a completely unrelated note, some pictures of the kinds of alien clouds I was talking about in my last post (as requested by Ashley): </span></span></p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuDc3aX5U96Gn68J5y_8wPBLO6lL5HV2GAI30gQ7V5HTzBVFVVS68QOHpB5UxiYYxutJJR1cudfF6Ecif7nDHZUE1kR_4UYSpgl4IxREsUvPCMe-yOTGrO3MHKJvpTe2f2nOiy8lEfxg1o/s1600-h/098_2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 274px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuDc3aX5U96Gn68J5y_8wPBLO6lL5HV2GAI30gQ7V5HTzBVFVVS68QOHpB5UxiYYxutJJR1cudfF6Ecif7nDHZUE1kR_4UYSpgl4IxREsUvPCMe-yOTGrO3MHKJvpTe2f2nOiy8lEfxg1o/s400/098_2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451791953894469154" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOiPZBLkvTcJA0r6sDA2XU84mnnL_toe82XEBMWhXM3tgOwFFk1592Si2jYcSkyp42LnrIvlzhYWoN2uPww8dex4UvNER4d0ew-1t_CBF03xJ_dJMI1wcMSHHMbWi6SjFlt6M7FxQnxZ4C/s1600-h/100_2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 291px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOiPZBLkvTcJA0r6sDA2XU84mnnL_toe82XEBMWhXM3tgOwFFk1592Si2jYcSkyp42LnrIvlzhYWoN2uPww8dex4UvNER4d0ew-1t_CBF03xJ_dJMI1wcMSHHMbWi6SjFlt6M7FxQnxZ4C/s400/100_2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451791872949016642" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihUGnEK7CUIjQVzwp04rjxysvfGo1uX076INeRN353wKKazW42BekaVEH7kRw3DGAWdb-YVdxIrm3_ZGD9fFy62H8W3IKQLbBIxgq0vzBtrN2Hf9lBjnHINuFCVI-IXj2WMYmkxJGVpEf0/s1600-h/122_2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 220px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihUGnEK7CUIjQVzwp04rjxysvfGo1uX076INeRN353wKKazW42BekaVEH7kRw3DGAWdb-YVdxIrm3_ZGD9fFy62H8W3IKQLbBIxgq0vzBtrN2Hf9lBjnHINuFCVI-IXj2WMYmkxJGVpEf0/s400/122_2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451791617349265298" /></a>Tylerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05737086706693269068noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3560831325314231772.post-36453051802143101442010-03-21T10:05:00.001-07:002010-03-21T10:29:20.670-07:00españa part 4: 300 days of sun? yeah right.<div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I’m sorry, </span></span><st1:country-region st="on"><st1:place st="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Spain</span></span></st1:place></st1:country-region><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">: I’ve been remiss. I blame the weather.</span></span></div><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Spring is here and the manpris are out. Which means I spend my hours outside along the </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">berges </span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">reading and people- and cloud-watching rather than inside blogging. Seriously though, the clouds lately are so mesmerizing. They glow with afternoon sunlight like they’ve swallowed some kind of radioactive poison and make me feel like I’m trapped inside of a painting.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">But it’s pouring now. I can hardly hear my music over the thunder rumble and heavy patter of rain against my kitchen window.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">So let’s talk about </span></span><st1:country-region st="on"><st1:place st="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Valencia</span></span></st1:place></st1:country-region><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">:</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I rolled into Balenthia (as the Spaniards pronounce it) at night and the only thing motivating me to get off of the most comfortable train I’ve ever been on (thank you, Euromed) was the prospect of seeing Liz after months of failed European </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">réunions</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">. Seeing a face from home on this side of the pond is always so refreshing and has a way of shrinking the world, even if temporarily. In a nutshell, my visit to </span></span><st1:country-region st="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Valencia</span></span></st1:country-region><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> consisted of the two of us café-hopping, laughing, sharing stories about our experiences abroad, and marveling at the fact that we never met each other until first year at UVA despite the horde of common acquaintances we have in </span></span><st1:place st="on"><st1:city st="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Charlottesville</span></span></st1:city></st1:place><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; "><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP0JiwGsMiLJtkgfHmvtysX9GObVRNNbdm4I3LPjUJ6oJk4xbxE-34UhZ7G2UCyodo_eDgR8h0RDm3KeLaXj-9uysiJz-SLwWyD1Sfms_-UT_NJGV04NCGG2pGK01JW8CDM1yD_sKBHukz/s1600-h/447_2.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP0JiwGsMiLJtkgfHmvtysX9GObVRNNbdm4I3LPjUJ6oJk4xbxE-34UhZ7G2UCyodo_eDgR8h0RDm3KeLaXj-9uysiJz-SLwWyD1Sfms_-UT_NJGV04NCGG2pGK01JW8CDM1yD_sKBHukz/s400/447_2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451140295678335714" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px; " /></a></span></span></p><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';">(Hey, Liz!)</span></div><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">For those of you unsatisfied with this brevity, here are some details:</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.5in; text-indent: -0.25in; "><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">-</span></span><span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman'; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">As we left the train station and headed by foot to my hostel, I immediately had the impression that </span></span><st1:country-region st="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Valencia</span></span></st1:country-region><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> is the Spanish version of </span></span><st1:place st="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Lyon</span></span></st1:place><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">. To name a few similarities: they’re big but not overwhelmingly so (in fact, both cities are the third largest of their respective countries); while their populations are at once old and young, they’re mostly dominated by college-aged students; architecturally speaking, traditional and modern blend together as one, although there are distinctively historic </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">barrios</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> (the Spanish word for </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">quartiers</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">) that are separate from their contemporary counterparts; both cities orient themselves around nature (Lyon its rivers, Valencia its </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">rio</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> turned orange-tree-scattered </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">parque</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">) and a linear series of </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">plaças</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">; and both are completely different (although equally as beautiful) at night than they are during the day.</span></span></p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFRNZqlM5OE44LlbCdTMcUABullFIQqSjAeBG423hRF0Gg-k_ed7DcLQyFuCvJXCnx3eW8kossh-cvP7nx6s5pH8_wiy7P_9K3ZdOENCiaH0fjVZgWw5HOwSX9zOPxTDN0G_pL3YQOddbx/s1600-h/459_2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFRNZqlM5OE44LlbCdTMcUABullFIQqSjAeBG423hRF0Gg-k_ed7DcLQyFuCvJXCnx3eW8kossh-cvP7nx6s5pH8_wiy7P_9K3ZdOENCiaH0fjVZgWw5HOwSX9zOPxTDN0G_pL3YQOddbx/s400/459_2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451135669900083410" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">(</span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">follow the redbrick road</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">)</span></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTJBEexgIlSW5QSs5Jwdz6VG9pEXBZ0N7_UThNm0jWhziIhIo8ooBw5dXxJlA_qCme5ZRSlirv8bhcxsgecbGcohVS7zT9KtC95QNa3aV1BzW1lyVNvGcxHcje9_N2eQjHHwCEc0IN3u3u/s1600-h/511.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTJBEexgIlSW5QSs5Jwdz6VG9pEXBZ0N7_UThNm0jWhziIhIo8ooBw5dXxJlA_qCme5ZRSlirv8bhcxsgecbGcohVS7zT9KtC95QNa3aV1BzW1lyVNvGcxHcje9_N2eQjHHwCEc0IN3u3u/s400/511.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451135152081687906" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">(part of the </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">ciudad de las artes y las ciencias</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">)</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left:.5in;text-indent:-.25in;mso-list:l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops:list .5in"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">-</span></span><span style="font:7.0pt "Times New Roman""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Food: People eat late in </span></span><st1:place st="on"><st1:country-region st="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Spain</span></span></st1:country-region></st1:place><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">. As in restaurants are still packed at midnight. Which is why we were lucky, considering it was the peak hour of 11:00pm, to find a table for two at some great, side-street </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">taberna </span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">(tavern) upon my arrival. Highlights from this dining experience include my introduction into the world of </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">tapas</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> and our awesome waitress whose enthusiastic, wide-smiled, belly-rubbing gestures convinced us to order the mystery-meat dish pictured below. She was also kind enough to punctuate our meal with free glasses of </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">mistela</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">, a kind of traditional post-dinner fortified wine (correct me if I’m wrong).</span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Also memorable was Friday’s authentic </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">paella </span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">lunch. Whether from pre-</span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">siesta</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> exhaustion or some other inexplicable reason, Liz and I had a bad case of the giggles. We therefore found it particularly difficult to suppress our laughter among my futile attempts to remove a snail from its shell, a discussion of dishes that shouldn’t be eaten on a first date (</span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">paella </span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">is </span></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">definitely </span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">one of them), an alarmingly high number of miserable-looking mother-father-daughter threesomes, and a restaurant-wide struggle to eat what looked like rock-hard pieces of </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">piña</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> (pineapple). </span></span></p></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAW3r-ArXbA9wxB2l3OA0x5LCCKx8Nr8zT5Unx3bYeIZK_Jy8jDoV1iJsCD1Y95HxCaP7POdojTs540jpoIPTbsXQRzNHEFFrtWQbs3NLr-92sBnwcHHEriu5LnvUw9xH_jeqn9qn_wT49/s1600-h/429_2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAW3r-ArXbA9wxB2l3OA0x5LCCKx8Nr8zT5Unx3bYeIZK_Jy8jDoV1iJsCD1Y95HxCaP7POdojTs540jpoIPTbsXQRzNHEFFrtWQbs3NLr-92sBnwcHHEriu5LnvUw9xH_jeqn9qn_wT49/s400/429_2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451134768878597554" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">(mmm, goat cheese and mystery meat)</span></span></div></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left:.5in;text-indent:-.25in;mso-list:l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops:list .5in"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">-</span></span><span style="font:7.0pt "Times New Roman""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Thursday night, we headed to the apartment of some of Liz’s </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">amigos </span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">for a night of conversation and music. Red wine, Spanish, the orange incandescence of scalding metal: all of these kept me in a heightened state of vertigo. I was at once detached and present. I listened as seemingly accentless words poured like a steady flow of water from Liz’s mouth (seriously, Liz, yo’ español is </span></span><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">impressive</span></span></i></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">), understanding some of them, but mostly floating somewhere just beyond the walls, observing the scene as if through some distorted bubble. </span></span></p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5IkK7_Xd-hyv9qzPiLum8ol6Bd7TAFZNueu1_txBt8tpATaTXp8_qzR6TC0pA9x57tNMN00sK_taPNvychuCQ8MU6WlCT-6IU1hnwtXyT0OUXRaDAR4zvRQnUGsLjrzDZBegXE1hJ7q-9/s1600-h/541.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5IkK7_Xd-hyv9qzPiLum8ol6Bd7TAFZNueu1_txBt8tpATaTXp8_qzR6TC0pA9x57tNMN00sK_taPNvychuCQ8MU6WlCT-6IU1hnwtXyT0OUXRaDAR4zvRQnUGsLjrzDZBegXE1hJ7q-9/s400/541.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451134576573978050" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">(</span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">l'auberge espagnole</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">)</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">As much as I hated the idea of leaving Spain, I was forced to hop aboard my train Saturday afternoon after drinking one last freshly squeezed </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">zumo de naranja</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> (orange juice) and saying goodbye to Liz. My train led me to Barcelona, where I met up with Denis, a Frenchman I’d found on covoiturage.fr (a legitimate carpooling website where you can find rides in people’s cars for nearly half the cost of other forms of transportation), who was to drive me the 7.5 hours back to Lyon (oops, I may have left this detail out when talking to you about my plans, Mom and Dad). After throwing my bags into Denis’ radioless ’93 Mercedes-Benz, he and I set off. The time passed remarkably quickly; night fell and the headlights came on somewhere among the Pyrenées Mountains, and we spent most of the time talking, comparing and contrasting the two countries (Denis had lived in Spain for three years and was in the process of moving back to France) among other things. We stopped at a typical side-of-the-highway service station to grab a couple of sandwiches and cafés for dinner, and entered the familiar </span></span><st1:place st="on"><st1:placetype st="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">territory</span></span></st1:placetype><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> of </span></span><st1:placename st="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Lyon</span></span></st1:placename></st1:place><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> just after midnight. Denis dropped me off just in front of my apartment, where I plopped immediately into bed and fell asleep to the dizzied slideshow of </span></span><st1:country-region st="on"><st1:place st="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Spain</span></span></st1:place></st1:country-region><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> running on repeat in my head. </span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">And for some reason I never thought that nearly a month and a half later I’d still be writing about it. ¡Adios at last, y’all!</span></span></p></div></div>Tylerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05737086706693269068noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3560831325314231772.post-12850485307407744402010-03-21T05:13:00.000-07:002010-03-21T05:31:15.177-07:00another market meal<div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">It's Sunday, which means another delicious post-marché midi:</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilnUXX8FMfPNaPQLylaZjzoo0clazC-QOOXX65nOsHMwytn1OOt01wnJsNio_er5AjMPOjuNgkI2KqJTyjF_RwaAKhwMmWjxsGvb5eFZduSF-zOeGnykKNx_65wfbLqUiPEJC4pW_o_2aN/s1600-h/004_2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 292px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilnUXX8FMfPNaPQLylaZjzoo0clazC-QOOXX65nOsHMwytn1OOt01wnJsNio_er5AjMPOjuNgkI2KqJTyjF_RwaAKhwMmWjxsGvb5eFZduSF-zOeGnykKNx_65wfbLqUiPEJC4pW_o_2aN/s400/004_2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451059868595829906" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">(</span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">couscous, poivron vert, oignon, et saucisse de toulouse </span></span></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-style: normal; font-family:Georgia, serif;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">sautés avec <span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-style: normal; font-family:Georgia, serif;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-style: normal; font-family:Georgia, serif;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">huile d'olive, sucre, sel, et herbes de provence)</span></span></i></span></span></span></i></span></span></span></i></span></span></span></i></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc1LqsJKHnuW38nK1qnfcS3cNoaaIhB9kF45zJYuxENf1urhHja2388Lxh4zdUkr8njY4UwyM750k6eLupGIuYiyz1-AOXSit33tQpHYqi33PKIiW00uVvNcoy9bO6g3zy7vuw39YChz6b/s1600-h/006_2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 289px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc1LqsJKHnuW38nK1qnfcS3cNoaaIhB9kF45zJYuxENf1urhHja2388Lxh4zdUkr8njY4UwyM750k6eLupGIuYiyz1-AOXSit33tQpHYqi33PKIiW00uVvNcoy9bO6g3zy7vuw39YChz6b/s400/006_2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451059766491109202" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">(</span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">"homemade" pita chips baked with olive oil and thyme</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">)</span></span></div></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivO7Fc_7Fvbyle4UT8o13Y8T418WXTjh4mY_Sh4pD2W6AZQ8GQB-x8gwOmEDaJrlhGssOwWrwJIfZomSVCC8du-Z-oLNIE1YkswNCQAdoKuOBR0aj8d5dr1EWdpIO6crBvA1O_xs1MF3Kp/s1600-h/016_2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 296px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivO7Fc_7Fvbyle4UT8o13Y8T418WXTjh4mY_Sh4pD2W6AZQ8GQB-x8gwOmEDaJrlhGssOwWrwJIfZomSVCC8du-Z-oLNIE1YkswNCQAdoKuOBR0aj8d5dr1EWdpIO6crBvA1O_xs1MF3Kp/s400/016_2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451059681290001810" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">(</span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">bon appétit!</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">) </span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">You're right, Dad : I do have a food fixation. But can you blame me? </span></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><br /></span></div></div></div>Tylerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05737086706693269068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3560831325314231772.post-59972934683017217132010-03-20T05:14:00.000-07:002010-03-21T05:31:24.750-07:00isn't this what adults do?<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Here’s a recap of my morning:</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"></span></span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Woke up naturally at 9:00 (what?! on a Saturday?!) and had breakfast with Paul </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> (toasted baguette topped with olive oil and coarse salt </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Georgia, serif;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">à l’espagnole</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-style: normal; font-family:Georgia, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">) before he set off to </span></span><st1:city st="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Paris</span></span></st1:city><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> for the night and </span></span><st1:place st="on"><st1:city st="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Nantes</span></span></st1:city></st1:place><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> for the week. (Which means I’m alone until next Saturday – visitors are welcome.)</span></span></span></span></i></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"></span></span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Went for a short run along the </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">berges</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> (third time this week!) and headed to the market for a pastry and some fresh cheese.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"></span></span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Showered and then took my time over a cup of coffee while reading articles from </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Le Figaro</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> and </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Courier International</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> and listening to the smooth rhythms of </span></span><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=64liF2VuLxI"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Ratatat</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> playing on repeat in the background (thanks to Sarah for the sweet recommendation).</span></span></p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUryqIaFmqUb_fZuy1pOr2yz-EFHmebq5KT2hh9QKtUFFvG-zzWgnFibcyWq-QVvVer0fhc4Dy6zNGeSO10L-EmHt3MR7DFg952gMQDtU2JKWSuKXEGc4Ki79fXYQXB3mc_IA3gppW4lLL/s1600-h/017_2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 314px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUryqIaFmqUb_fZuy1pOr2yz-EFHmebq5KT2hh9QKtUFFvG-zzWgnFibcyWq-QVvVer0fhc4Dy6zNGeSO10L-EmHt3MR7DFg952gMQDtU2JKWSuKXEGc4Ki79fXYQXB3mc_IA3gppW4lLL/s400/017_2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5450732708592507234" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">There’s a cool breeze coming in through the open window. It’s raining but it’s warm. I think I’ll spend the afternoon </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">au </span></span></i><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">cinéma</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Is this what they call "growing up"?</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></p>Tylerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05737086706693269068noreply@blogger.com0