An overview on life so far

September 19th
So I’m doing this blogging thing because I’m way too lazy to type up individual responses for all the “How’s France?” questions I get. Not that you guys aren’t worth it, but I’m just a lazy ass. Obviously, I’m just starting this blog, so I’m not even going to try to describe in detail every single thing that I have done for the past few weeks... But I will try to summarize everything. So from the beginning:

At the hotel, I met a few people. Some (meaning most) I recognized and could name them without reading their name tags because I have no life and did the whole facebook stalker shit, minus the stalker part. I really actually have a life beyond that though...

Then at the airport, I checked my bags and said goodbye to the father and looked back once before going through security. Strangely, I didn’t feel the whole, “This is when my life starts. I’m spending the next nine months in a foreign country, what am I doing to myself?” feeling. I honestly thought that I was going to feel an epiphany, but I didn’t. And also, it still hasn’t really hit me yet. Anyways, so I started talking to a group of people and helped spread a rumor that one of the guys had STDs. As of right now, I think that person hates me.

In the airplane... can’t say there is anything exactly exciting to say there. I slept, felt nausea, and ate the nasty dogfood airplane crap they serve. That was about it.

The way to Rennes was probably the worst vehicle trip of my life. The people were fun, but when the car sickness hit me, that sort of killed the whole thing for me. Also I had to pee really bad and there was this shitty nasty dark smelly crappy tiny disgusting cramped bathroom and I went and it was gross and someone opened the door on me. I have no idea who it was, don’t really care.

Then when we got to the school, the car sickness left and I was basically jumping up and down waiting for my host family. That was probably the most anxious I have ever been in my life. But while I was waiting, I looked around the school and managed to go into the boys bathroom and look like a retard. But then my host family came and I was super excited even though I was tired, looked like shit, and was just gross, but still excited. (by the way, I have three host siblings whom are all amazing: Morgane, Raphaelle, and Nicolas) Then we got to the house, and found out one girl’s family wasn’t there, so my host family took her in. I thought it’d be weird, but it was actually nice (but she’s gone to her own host family now). And that was the first day in France.

Then we had like four orientation days which were probably the most boring orientations ever. EXCEPT for my one favorite quote from the art history teacher, JP, “There is also a couch downstairs, but it’s not for lovers.. because my room is right next to it,” which basically made my day.

Then school started. Everyone that went before us made it out as school was a joke... Uhm, they lied. There is so much homework and the fact that most of it is in a different language makes it ten bagillion times harder and therefore takes longer. Not that I’m complaining... No actually, I will complain, but really quickly. I hate the history teacher. He came in the class and started speaking French so fast I did not understand what the hell he was saying, even with my complete undivided attention that I basically gift wrapped and presented it to him on my knees. Then one day he made me read in class and stopped to correct my horrible pronunciation and then explained that la fin meant the end even though I already knew what that meant. I hate that teacher. He can go retire now and never come back and I really won’t even care. HATE HIM.

Uhm... In most of my free time, I’m usually in the centre ville. It’s basically like a small town with everything you could ever need/want. Crepes(which are amazing), cafes, chocolate shops(which are also amazing), clothing stores, H&M(which is so convenient), cinemas, an opera house, hookah bars, bars, discotechs, etc.

I don’t know if I’m forgetting something important... if I think of it, I’ll add it.

OH NO WAIT!
My birthday was like yesterday.
word up, yo. I turned seventeen, in France. suck on that. It was not the best, but it didn’t suck. A guy from my school gave me a pastry cake pie thing. And then my host family went all out on the dinner, no complaints there. The cake was more like a fruit tart, but again, no complaints... That was the best fruit tart I have ever eaten ever. And I also got presents: a hat (didn’t fit, but I can go exchange it), chocolate (that’s how I know the chocolate shops are amazing), this decoration sort of thing that Raphaelle made, and a ticket for Holiday on Ice (which I am so freaking excited for). By the way, I’m seventeen. Did I mention that? I don’t feel any older, whatever.

So to summarize the whole two-ish weeks I’ve been here into a few sentences:
I have never been happier, but I have never felt so completely impaired. I don’t think I will ever make fun of a fob again in my life, because that’s exactly what I feel like, but I love it. It makes me want to work harder to learn French quicker so I can communicate. I sound like a freak, but when a hot french boy asks you for a lighter, that motivates you to learn quickly so you can engage in a conversation and you knowwww.

And this was way too long. This will never happen again. Unless I am incredibly bored, which I am right now.

oh oh, last few thoughts: the breads, pastries, crepes, ice-cream, and coffee’s here are the best. You don’t know until you’ve been here. It’s amazing. I’m going to have to join the gym. I think I gained like 70 pounds already. mmmmmmmm, i’m hungry now and i have a platter of chocolate from my birthday in my room. This is not healthy. I’m going to get diabetes and get high cholesterol and have a cardiac arrest and die before I come back to America.

By the way, at this exact moment, I’m writing all of this on word, and then I’ll transfer it to the blog when I learn how to set it up. So all of this is ollllllllld news.

Okay, now I’m done.
bye.

no wait, I have no idea how often I’m going to update this. Maybe like everyday, no, every other day, a few times a week? I have no idea.
And I don’t know if I should add people’s names or not. Should I or should I leave it anonymous? I have no idea how to do this. This is like a diary entry only way less personal, but isn’t that what a blog is? Oh well, I’m done for now, for real.


September 23rd
As much as I love France, I’m starting to feel the W everyone told me about. The high I’d be on, and then the decline and then the getting over it and so on. But right now, I’m over that high and slowly declining because of the language barrier. It’s a lot harder than I expected, but I hope to get over that soon. Hope being the key word, because soon is not going to happen. But whatever, I’ll slowly get over it. Slowly. I can’t wait for it to be “un morceau du gâteau,” in other words a piece of cake.

Okay so this is totally a diary entry blog, but who cares I’m sharing this with the public: I heard “I’m not over” by Carolina Liar and it reminded me of someone again. But I’m OVER it so it doesn’t matter. :(

Oh and shit, I hate my history teacher. Like I absolutely hate him. He keeps picking on me and then today freaked out on me because he thought I was sleeping because I slouched back in my chair. What the hell? That doesn’t mean I’m sleeping. I hate him so so so so so so so much, you have no idea. I’m going to have to count the number of times I complain about him... I hate him so much...

OH OH! Today a bunch of SYA kids went down to the cafe in Saint Vincent (one of the local high schools where we can get lunch for free) and like the line was long at first. But by the time I got to the front, there was no line. It was a mob of angry hungry French students who were pushing me and trying to get in front of me. Also, I’m 4’11 and everyone was so tall so I was felt like an angry caged animal trying to get food. And then a french guy called me a putain and I wanted so badly to kick his ass and cuss him out but he was French so he wouldn’t have understood and probably would’ve pulled out a sword and fenced me to death. I’m never going to that cafe again, ever. Those French kids were crazy. When we have foreign exchange students at our school we treat them like a celebrity, but when I go to the high school, they treat me like trash. Americans are so much nicer.