October 2002 archive
(116 entries)
October 30, 2002
Pictures, continued
Mouse over for captions, if you please.
Sophie's braids, as done in Mali (and as undone in Grenoble)
Y a quoi � Vichy? (to be continued...)
School sweet school
Trip to la Grande Chartreuse
Assistants' Meeting in Clermont-Ferrand
srah | 10:16 AM | TrackBack | Tags: assistantship, clermont-ferrand, grenoble, host family, photos, travel, vichy |
October 29, 2002
Language nerd
At the library today, I borrowed a book-and-tape set for continued Spanish study, a book-free Russian tape set, a book on conversational Italian, and L'Auvergnat de poche, a recently published book of words and phrases from the native language of Auvergne. If I tried to learn them all, I would get terribly confused and my head would explode, but it's mostly just to stick my toe in a few new languages and to learn some rules for each one.
The tapes are rather old and stretched, so I may have to pick another language where they have CDs, which would be clearer and easier to understand. It's hard enough to learn Russian with nothing written down, but garbly tapes certainly aren'tt going to make it any easier.
srah | 12:45 PM | TrackBack | Tags: assistantship, language |
Non, merci
I have been offered at least five cups of coffee/tea by at least three people since 3:30, when I sat down at this computer. I still don't know if they're trying to hit on me or make up for me having to wait. NO TEA PLEASE!
srah | 12:00 PM | TrackBack | Tags: assistantship, cybercafe |
First of many
My dad sent me a sample photo from the three rolls I sent with Becky to be developed in the US on paper and CD-ROM. La voici:
srah | 11:05 AM | TrackBack | Tags: assistantship, photos |
Dave Barry à la française
Hee hee... an internet Dave Barry Column creator.
Recently in Vichy (motto: "Casse-toi!"), residents reported an outbreak of video game nerds. Perhaps you think there are no video game nerds in Vichy. Perhaps you are an idiot. As the French say, au contraire (literally: "I can smell you from France.!"). I have here in my hands a copy of an Associated Press article sent in by alert reader Cheryl, whose name can be rearranged to spell "CLHYER", although that is not my main point. "Cheryl", by the way, only has the letters "Ceyl" in in common with "Monica Lewinsky", so there is no other reason to mention Monica Lewinsky in this column.
According to a quote which I am not making up, from Vichy Mayor Valéry Giscard-d'Estaing (formally "Mayor Valéry Giscard-d'Estaing" and informally "Grover"), video game nerds ranks as a major crisis just behind index finger, middle finger and thumb (insert your "pinky" joke here), as evidenced by the following conversation between Vichy government employees:
FIRST VICHY EMPLOYEE: "I'm totally out of here, dude."
SECOND VICHY EMPLOYEE: "You are quite a poopy individual."
FIRST VICHY EMPLOYEE: "I shall kill you with many sharp knives."
Fortunately I have a suggestion for Mayor Grover, and that is: kick George Steinbrenner's head.
No, seriously, my suggestion does not involve George Steinbrenner's head, although it might involve enslaving Tobacco Institute scientists. My suggestion is more along the lines of a coup de grace, from the French coup, meaning "move", and de grace, meaning "to Vichy and drink stagnant water all day". The procedure (you may want to write this down):
1. flush it down the toilet
2. plunging
But instead the Vichy city council (motto: "We'll benefit and protect people when you pry the hot dog out of our cold, dead fingers") thinks that they (the video game nerds) will play mooing games, scream at each other, and hit on any girls entering the place soon, sending this message to the public, and to the world: "I SUCK.".
Speaking of which, "The Vichy Video game nerds Outbreak" would be a great name for a rock band.
[via NOIBLATA]
srah | 11:00 AM | TrackBack | Tags: discovered |
Attack of the nerds
I knew I would not make it through the week without Internet access and that the reserve-in-advance free access at the library would not cut it because they have a cracked-out system that resets itself to the home page if you don't wiggle the mouse every few minutes, so that you can be typing a blog-post about Persuasion, for example, when all of a sudden you find yourself at the library home page.
Needless to say, that will not do. (And yet I said it, even thought it was needless!) So I was forced to go to Echapp, also known as Chez Nerd. I walked in and the place was packed. I took a look around and asked if there were any free computers. The guy said no and suggested that I try again in half an hour. As I turned around to leave, I heard a voice suggest "Vous voulez pas un petit café en attendant?" I went out the door and one guy who works there leaned out and repeated the offer, which I politely declined, mumbling that I had to go home or something, because I don't like coffee, I didn't want to be surrounded by nerds, and I wasn't sure of the implications of his offer. I'm not sure if he was suggesting it because I was a girl or because I was a potential customer...
srah | 8:28 AM | TrackBack | Tags: assistantship, cybercafe |
October 28, 2002
The best baguette I have ever tasted
When I first moved into my apartment, I realized that I was going to have to find somewhere to buy my daily bread. My first baguette vichyssoise was from Casino and was rather disappointing. The next day I went to La Mie Câline and found a baguette that was softer and less crumbly - much more to my liking.
Once I found one baguette I liked, I stopped looking, so I've been buying my baguettes there for almost a month. Today I showed up and the woman looked at me and said "Une baguette?" I have been recognized! I am a regular!
It's always been a dream of mine to be a regular somewhere - the Cheers phenomenon, where you want to go where everyone knows your name. Or at least your "usual".
In addition to being recognized, the baguette she sold me was just out of the oven and still warm. Mmmmmmmmmmmm. If I could shrink myself down, I would live inside this baguette - that is how good it is.
srah | 11:27 AM | TrackBack | Tags: assistantship |
The most disturbing song in the whole wide world
"Oh virgin..." began the Muzak song as I was grocery shopping. What an odd beginning for a song, I thought, Maybe I misheard it. It was a song in the style of Bobby Vinton, or any one in a number of 1950s-early 60s male singers. It felt very familiar to me, but I couldn't quite put my finger on it until it got to the chorus:
"Like a virgin - that's right! - touched for the very first time..."
Infinitely more hilarious and disturbing that the Mike Flowers Pops' version of Wonderwall was this bouncy little version of Madonna's song. But I'm sure I was the only one at Casino who recognized and understood the lyrics and walked down the aisles laughing to herself.
October 27, 2002
Restauration rapide
Once again, we have managed to commit a deportation-worthy offense: that of squatting in a restaurant. We went to a chocolaterie/patisserie/restauration rapide for lunch in Thiers and sat there for an hour and a half, nursing various foods and drinks and chatting and giggling, while waiting for the rain to let up. Thankfully the lady was very nice about it, but we still felt guilty afterwards.
And here's a message for one of my favorite pastries, in case it's out there reading: I love you, flan.
Money can so buy knives
Last night when we parted, Jennifer, Renata and I decided we should do "something" today - a "something" that might include travelling "somewhere".
When we met at the train station this morning, we deliberated on a destination and finally settled on Thiers, a 45-minute bus ride away in the Puy-de-Dôme department (63).
On a side note, I only just realized that the last two digits on French license plates refer to the department the car is from - thus cars from Vichy have a 03 for Allier. Now I like to look out for cars from other departments and am hunting for 38s (Isère, Grenoble's department). Now back to the topic at hand...
So we took the bus to Thiers. Along the way we saw corn, cows, and the cute little town of St-Yorre. We arrived at the bus/train station of Thiers, which seems to be famous for three things: being medieval, being built on a hill, and knives.
Being medieval was interesting because there were narrow streets and old buildings with big beams on the outside. Do not ask me what that architectural style is called - I am very likely to describe it as "old, with big beams on the outside." So I hope you can picture it. There were narrow streets with tall buildings on either side, little tunnels and staircases all over, and it was very old and quaint.
Being built on a hill meant that we did a lot of climbing and descending. Climbing sounded like this: ergh ugh hmph. Descending sounded like this: thump thump thump, as we stomped down the street. We went up and down and up and down, not only in the old medieval part of the city, but down to the river, across the bridge, and up the other side a few times. There were some lovely views to be seen and photographed.
Then we come to knives. Thiers' claim to fame is their knife factories, which all seem to be deserted. But there are still plenty of knives made somewhere around, because there are precisely one billion knife stores in Thiers. All of this made me think, all day long, of the great thespian Rob Schneider, when in that great dramatic work Surf Ninjas, he participated in the following exchange:
"We are looking for something money can't buy. The Knives of Kwan Su."
"Knives? Money can't buy knives? So, I walk into a knife store and I tell the clerk, 'Here's a million dollars, can I buy a knife?' and the clerk says, 'NO! Money can't buy knives.'"
Renata bought some knives (who says money can't buy knives) and the chatty knife-selling man talked to us and asked us what we were doing here and all. He thought I was French at first, but later precised that I had *presque* pas d'accent, accenting the presque. Oh well, it's a compliment anyway.
Perhaps more adventures in Auvergne shall follow later in the week.
srah | 7:42 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack | Tags: assistantship, quote |
Ding dong, the wizard's dead
Am I an awful person? Is it okay not to be completely sad about the death of another human being I didn't even know... even to be a little glad because death stopped him from doing something he was doing very badly? If something else could have stopped him, that would have been better, but I'm glad that's all over.
I am cryptic like Roommate.
The Laughing Americans
Renata, Jennifer and I went out last night. First we roamed the streets for a while, trying to find somewhere new to go. We didn't find anything open because, after all, it was Saturday night. So we ended up back at Le Comptoir, where we always end up when we can't find anywhere else to go.
Conversation, as usual, turned to Reasons Why We Are Going To Be Deported and Dressing The Boys In Women's Clothing, which both led to hysterical laughter. We will soon be known all over Vichy as the girls who sit down, order one drink, and spend hours speaking English and laughing loudly and hysterically.
Reasons We Are Going To Be Deported began when we went to the crêperie and, after hours of deliberation, Renata only ordered a tea. We decided that the crêperie would start a campaign to have her banned from all fo the restaurants in Vichy and eventually deported. Now every time we do something ridiculously American, or anything to annoy waitstaff, we suspect that the Deportation Police are after us.
In Dressing The Boys In Women's Clothing, The Boys refers to Renata's housemates. She lives in an apartment at her lycée with the German and Spanish assistants - a sort of cross between an auberge espagnole and Three's Company. The Boys don't know it yet, but whenever the topic of Halloween (or St Patrick's Day, or April Fool's Day, or Arbor Day...) comes up, we try to come up with ways to get dresses on them.
We retired to Renata's apartment, where I got to meet the elusive Stefan and imagine him in a skirt, and giggled we hysterically well into the night.
srah | 4:15 AM | TrackBack | Tags: assistantship |
October 24, 2002
The Lady and the (Little) Tramp
This afternoon, I went to see Le Dictateur, the French-dubbed version of Charlie Chaplin's talkie The Great Dictator. I had never seen one of Chaplin's films all the way through and was quite impressed, as were the two other spectators in the enormous screening room.
Chaplin played Adenoid Hynkel, a dictator who was meant to resemble Adolf Hitler, and a Jewish barber with amnesia, who had just been released after 20 years in the hospital for an injury received during WWI. There was, as could be expected, a case of mistaken identity, so that the barber had the opportunity to give a touching speech to people all over the world:
I'm sorry but I don't want to be an emperor. That's not my business. I don't want to rule or conquer anyone. I should like to help everyone if possible; Jew, Gentile, black men, white. We all want to help one another. Human beings are like that. We want to live by each others' happiness, not by each other's misery. We don't want to hate and despise one another. In this world there is room for everyone. And the good earth is rich and can provide for everyone. The way of life can be free and beautiful, but we have lost the way. Greed has poisoned men's souls; has barricaded the world with hate; has goose-stepped us into misery and bloodshed. We have developed speed, but we have shut ourselves in. Machinery that gives abundance has left us in want. Our knowledge as made us cynical; our cleverness, hard and unkind. We think too much and feel too little. More than machinery we need humanity. More than cleverness, we need kindness and gentleness. Without these qualities, life will be violent and all will be lost. The aeroplane and the radio have brought us closer together. The very nature of these things cries out for the goodness in man; cries out for universal brotherhood; for the unity of us all. Even now my voice is reaching millions throughout the world, millions of despairing men, women, and little children, victims of a system that makes men torture and imprison innocent people. To those who can hear me, I say "Do not despair." The misery that has come upon us is but the passing of greed, the bitterness of men who fear the way of human progress. The hate of men will pass, and dictators die, and the power they took from the people will return to the people. And so long as men die, liberty will never perish. Soldiers! Don't give yourselves to these brutes who despise you, enslave you; who regiment your lives, tell you what to do, what to think and what to feel! Who drill you, diet you, treat you like cattle and use you as cannon fodder. Don't give yourselves to these unnatural men---machine men with machine minds and machine hearts! You are not machines! You are men! With the love of humanity in your hearts! Don't hate! Only the unloved hate; the unloved and the unnatural. Soldiers! Don't fight for slavery! Fight for liberty! In the seventeenth chapter of St. Luke, it is written that the kingdom of God is within man, not one man nor a group of men, but in all men! In you! You, the people, have the power, the power to create machines, the power to create happiness! You, the people, have the power to make this life free and beautiful, to make this life a wonderful adventure. Then in the name of democracy, let us use that power. Let us all unite. Let us fight for a new world, a decent world that will give men a chance to work, that will give youth a future and old age a security. By the promise of these things, brutes have risen to power. But they lie! They do not fulfil that promise. They never will! Dictators free themselves but they enslave the people. Now let us fight to free the world! To do away with national barriers! To do away with greed, with hate and intolerance! Let us fight for a world of reason, a world where science and progress will lead to the happiness of us all. Soldiers, in the name of democracy, let us unite!
It was a very enjoyable and moving film.
srah | 12:33 PM | TrackBack | Tags: charlie chaplin, movies, politics, quote |
Getting clean
I have suffered for some time from an addiction to coke. My own parents first introduced me to it, and my boyfriend is the most frequent user I know. But now, away from all the pressure at home, I am working on kicking the habit.
Oh, I'm sorry. Silly [shift] key. I meant to say Coke, of course. I've only had it twice since I've been here, and neither was out of any real desire for the nasty stuff, which is so bad for you between the sugar, caffeine, and carbonation. The day after I arrived in France, when Françoise's brother Michel visited, we had apéritifs and I preferred Coke to the alternative of pastis that was offered to me. Then when we went on our 25km hike and stopped in a bar to get out of the rain, I ordered one for the sake of having something to drink and because I wasn't sure a bar in Molles would have tea or apricot juice. So that's 18 days I've been off the stuff and I'm not looking to have any more for a while.
October 23, 2002
Girl in the bubble
I went out to faire la fête with my 2nd year BTS Optics students tonight. First we went to Sylvie's apartment to make crêpes and play with her cat. Sylvie is from Vizille, one of the suburbs of Grenoble, and offered me a ride there when I need one. Her cat is an enormous, long-haired show cat named Riki-Tiki-Tavi. Marion spent all evening pointing out reasons why Riki-Tiki-Tavi is con. After crêpes, most of the class showed up and we went to Les Fous du Roy, a local night club.
It was pretty quiet when we got there, but after a while, they played music from The Full Monty and these three guys got up on the bar and stripped. Three nasty scary guys. We thought they whould stop when they took their shirts off. We thought they would stop when they took their pants off. We thought they would at least stay turned around when they pulled their underwear down. It felt like that song would never end.
Our group started dancing, but I didn't know any of the music and it takes an effort to make me dance in public even if I do know it. Finally Patrick pulled me out onto the floor to dance to the frighteningly Axé Bahia-like song that is all the rage in France at the moment. I stayed out there for a good part of the night, despite the nasty 30-year-old men from the country who had apparently come into town for a little vichyssoise action. They would dance with you whether you wanted to or not, and when our group was dancing in a circle, they would invade it. Then the rather drunk Patrick would stand in front of them and try to back them out of the circle. One of them came up to Marion when we were sitting down and started talking to her and trying to get her to come out and dance with him. I told her I was glad he'd picked her instead of me because I wouldn't have known what to say or how to refuse him - I would have just started yelling "I DON'T SPEAK FRENCH. GO AWAY, SCARY FRENCH MAN." Another member of our group was dancing with one of them, who got too close. She pushed him away and another one arrived. Finally she just yelled that she'd had enough of them and left the floor altogether.
All of this was very offensive to my American personal-space bubble. It may be because my public-dancing experience is limited to high school dances and Albion frat parties, where everyone knew each other, but touching strangers is a no-no in my book. I think, from the other students' reactions, this degree of closeness wasn't completely normal in a French discothèque either, but French men are much more aggressive to start with and the French have smaller space-bubbles than I do.
srah | 9:00 PM | TrackBack | Tags: assistantship, cultural differences, france |
Persuasion... to invite the loser
I love Jane Austen. I love Persuasion. I love sitting at home all by myself on the first day of vacation and reading Persua... wait, no.
In the cafeteria the other day, Agnès and I sat with some of the Optics students and Agnès asked them if they were having any parties to celebrate the half-term. One of them said that they were going to to something and Agnès said that they should invite me. I just sat there like the loser that I am, who has to be pushed on people because she has no friends of her own. But I tried to be positive and think they did want me, because some of them had mentioned before that I should go out with them "some time". So I gave me phone number to Aurélie at the end of class on Monday.
Now it is Wednesday, the day of la fête, and I have heard nothing. I haven't completely given up hope, but I did go out to buy bread before the boulangerie closed, which I had put off in hopes of being invited out for crêpes instead.
Maybe they'll still call. Maybe I wrote my number wrong. Maybe she lost it. Maybe the soirée crêpes was cancelled and they forgot to tell me.
Or maybe they just don't want me. I'm lonely.
srah | 12:53 PM | TrackBack | Tags: assistantship, jane austen, loneliness, persuasion, socializing |
I'm really leaving this time
Okie dokie. I'll see you after the Toussaint holiday.
Ha ha! I type that, knowing full-well that I will break down and spend the 4€ an hour at Echapp or move into the library and glom onto their computers. So see you when I have my breakdown. Leave me lots of fun comments to read when I get back!
srah | 5:52 AM | TrackBack | Tags: assistantship |
October 22, 2002
How I learned to stop worrying and love the Euro
Last weekend at the laundromat, I met a couple of Americans who were hiking through France. We talked as our laundry spun and got onto the subject of the Euro. The woman said she was against it because the countries were losing a little bit of their culture by losing their individual currencies.
It was at this point, talking to her, that I realized: I don't care. I am all about sticking my nose in other countries' business and having an opinion about what they should or shouldn't do. But I was delighted to realize that I don't have to have an opinion about the Euro. I'm not a citizen of a member country, so I can just smile and say that from an American standpoint, I'm all for it because it makes "If this is Tuesday, this must be Barcelona" travelling easier. I can let the countries worry about preserving their own culture. This is a great relief to me.
And while we're being apathetic, I have no opinion on the Nice Treaty either, except that the more countries there are in the EU, the more Euro-designs I can collect. So there.
Among the people I would kick in the gulliver...
I thought that I had blogged about this before, but a quick search of my archives turns up nothing before Monday on "Kubrick". So I must have just ranted aloud. This simply will not do! I cannot go on without recording for the public and for my future self, how much I hate the films of Stanley Kubrick.
I saw Dr Strangelove years ago and it scared me. All in all, I found it disjointed and mostly a waste of Peter Sellers. It doesn't seem to me to add much to the genre of bomb-movies. Thus, it is one of Kubrick's best, in my opinion.
The Shining was my freshman-year-roommate Stephanie's favorite movie. It was very thought-provoking, provoking such thoughts as How many men in a bear suit can give that guy a blow job while having nothing to do with the movie?. At the time, I thought it was the movie that was weird, little suspecting the director.
Later that year, in my Film class, I told Dr Loukides that Singin' in the Rain was one of my favorite movies. So he very thoughtfully showed us the beginning of A Clockwork Orange, where Alex and his droogs beat up and rape a couple while singing "Singin' in the Rain". "You'll never think of that movie the same way again," cackled my evil professor.
My sophomore year, a little Kubrick-festival took place at Albion, organized by a History professor whose class I happened to be taking at the time. So he made mandatory the viewing of Barry Lyndon, Paths of Glory, and Dr Strangelove (again) and attendance at a lecture on Kubrick's career. All I remember of Barry Lyndon was that it was long and I couldn't leave to go to the bathroom because whatever I missed would undoubtedly be discussed in class the next day. There was something else, too, like I had the hiccups or I was starving or dying of the Albion Death Plague. I just remember suffering.
Paths of Glory, on the other hand, was the best Kubrick film I have ever seen, by which I mean the least bizarre. It's the only one I've seen where you can forget who directed it because there are no bears giving oral sex or monkeys beating each other up.
Speaking of monkeys... 2001: A Space Odyssey was rereleased - surprisingly enough - in 2001, when I was studying in Grenoble. As you may know, I had nothing to do in Grenoble so I saw something like 75 movies over the course of the year. I decided that, because it was a "classic", it was time to give Kubrick another chance.
You know how the Beatles' Magical Mystery Tour makes no sense at all, but it must when you're high? I got the same impression from 2001, except that unlike the time I tried to watch MMT, there was no eject button and I had paid to see it, rather than checking it out of Albion's enabling library. I also wanted to see the ending, where all of the mess that came before would be explained. Which explains why I am writing to you from the Club cinéma in Grenoble right now, because I refuse to leave until someone tells me what the hell that was, with the monkeys and the Big Black Box. Every time I thought I got it, I was wrong.
And now we come to the last one. WHY? I am seriously asking this, because I can't explain it myself. WHY? Why did I watch Eyes Wide Shut, a movie I had no interest in seeing after the previews, a movie which, in addition to being directed by Stanley Kubrick, starred both Tom Cruise and Nicole Kidman? Why why why? Orgy orgy blah blah blah. I think I fell asleep. I hope I fell asleep.
I can't believe I've seen seven. I don't know if there's another director in the world (maybe Steven Spielberg) who has made seven movies I've seen. How much of my life has been wasted by watching Stanley Kubrick movies?
So all in all - in case you hadn't caught on - my opinion of ol' Stan is not very good. But, like Woody Allen, someone out there must like him, because he just kept making movies that were, for some reason, considered classics. I blame the French.
srah | 4:54 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack | Tags: assistantship, movies, stanley kubrick |
Pato Potter
My Pato has sent me pictures, including this one of him in costume as Medvedenko in The Seagull. He got to wear Harry Potter glasses and I think he looks more like my mental image of Harry than Daniel Radcliffe does. This is not something I normally would have thought about my boyfriend, and it is really rather troubling that I should be attracted to Harry Potter. Anyway, Alex is incredibly adorable and ALL MINE. So there.
My own pictures from Vichy should be coming along soon, as they're in the United States being developed at the moment...
Nothing to say
While I would normally never read Doonesbury, my dad sent me this cartoon about blogging...
srah | 3:12 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack | Tags: discovered |
Anniversary extravaganza
I'll probably have to pay for Internet access during our week-and-a-half long vacation, which begins tomorrow, so I'll have to announce my blogiversary early. Happy blogiversary to me on the 25th! I will have been blogging for one year. That's one year of clever posts like:
10.25.01
I had a dream last night that Alex, John Turturro and I were outlaws. We took over these people's house while they were out and locked/blocked all the doors. Just before I woke up, I was panicking because we hadn't closed the blinds.
What a valuable use of webspace.
And while I'm at it, happy 13-monthiversary (today) to the wee Chilean. Hee.
The Book-Monster Strikes Again
I am reading American Rigolos, which Agnès lent me. It's the French translation of a British book about America, written by an American. Bill Bryson worked in England for twenty years before going back to the US and bringing his British family with him. So, while he sounds American and all, he has trouble adjusting to the culture he knew a long time ago. He wrote this series of articles for a newspaper back in England, and they were published as Notes from a Big Country (in the UK) and I'm A Stranger Here Myself (in the US).
The strange thing about reading it translated into French is that, like in dubbed American movies, I find myself getting distracted from the actual content by concentrating on the translation and wondering how things were originally phrased in English. We are such a language nerd.
October 21, 2002
Who'da thunk it, part deux
Hey! My blog is intelligent!
srah | 11:33 AM | TrackBack | Tags: discovered |
Who'da thunk it?
I talked to the THOTs about Halloween today and gave them a Halloween wordsearch to do. As I made the wordsearch at the last minute today, I thought 'This is so demeaning, giving them a wordsearch. This is so second grade. They are going to be insulted.' Instead, they seemed to enjoy it quite a lot, it took the whole hour, I think they learned things, and it seemed to be a success. I really have no idea what I'm doing here.
srah | 10:20 AM | TrackBack | Tags: assistantship |
Very Harry
There's a possibility that EITHER our old pal J.K. is planning on an eighth book OR they're just trying to cover things up by registering a lot of titles for upcoming Harry Potter books. Personally, I'm disappointed to hear them all at once and have the surprise spoiled.
Just hurry up and get the fifth one out!
srah | 4:55 AM | TrackBack | Tags: books, harry potter, harry potter and the order of the phoenix |
Bus boy girl
The buses here can be significantly early, significantly late, or on time. And if they only stop at your stop once every half-hour, you never know if it's not there because it's late or because it's already come and gone early and there won't be another one for a half an hour. In other words, you never know if it's worth waiting. Grrrrr.
srah | 2:17 AM | TrackBack | Tags: assistantship |
The voracious reader attacks an Orange
I read A Clockwork Orange this weekend and I think it's affected me. Not in terms of wanting to go out and kick people in the gulliver, thankfully, but in terms of wanting to call people my droogs and describe things as horrorshow. Being written in this strange Russo-Anglo-American slang made the book a lot more enjoyable to read and distracted me from the violent bits that the movie very graphically showed. In the book, I could concentrate on the language and get on with it.
Have I mentioned that I hate Stanley Kubrick?
srah | 2:15 AM | TrackBack | Tags: a clockwork orange, books |
Overplay
I don't usually mind her, but if I hear Shakira tell me one more time that there's an endless story underneath my house, I will track down the station managers of NRJ and burn them alive.
What is Shakira talking about, anyway? My basement? It's not very endless. What's the man she chose doing down there, anyway? Did she choose him to hide there and attack me? I always suspected that of my basement, but I didn't know Shakira was behind it all.
Sigh. Yes, I know the real lyrics. But it's more fun this way.
October 19, 2002
"If you think this country's bad-off now, just wait'll I get through with it"
"What type of music do you like?" my students have asked me.
"I like lots of different kinds," I usually answer.
Which is true, as evidenced by my choices at the library's discothèque: Satie's Oeuvres pour piano, Vanessa Paradis' Bliss, Echoes of Chile, and The Marx Brothers Sing and Play.
My book selection ranged from Persuasion to A Clockwork Orange, so that's not much better.
srah | 10:00 AM | TrackBack | Tags: a clockwork orange, assistantship, books, jane austen, music, persuasion |
Un mois
Today is the 19th, so I've been in France for one month now. I would say it doesn't feel like a month, but it does, so I won't.
What a fascinating post.
srah | 9:56 AM | TrackBack | Tags: assistantship |
October 18, 2002
The Anti-Social
What are my hobbies? Why thank you for asking. I enjoy sitting in the dark and watching movies, sitting in front of a computer screen and typing, or sitting down and reading a book. Anything that doesn't involve too much movement or socialization is ideal, thank you.
So remind me, why am I bored and lonely?
srah | 7:21 AM | TrackBack | Tags: assistantship |
1ère ville electrifiée
Just in case you were wondering, Magnet was the first town in France with electricity. I know this because my train passed a sign announcing it. I wonder if that generates a lot of tourism.
srah | 7:15 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack | Tags: travel |
Euro-pudding
At lunch yesterday, Agnès told a story about how when she worked in California, there was a new employee from Germany. Everyone wanted the two of them to meet because they figured they'd hit it off, both being from Europe and all.
Then someone asked me where I'd traveled and I said I'd been to Chile this summer and to various places in Europe while I was studying in Grenoble. I didn't even realize that I was making the same generalizations about Europe as the people in California had - just lumping together France, Belgium, Switzerland, England and Scotland - until it was pointed out to me.
I thought it was funny how my students lump together the states, thinking that people in Michigan see movie stars in the street and go gallivanting off to Miami and NYC every weekend. But Americans do the same thing, assuming that all French people have been to Brussels and Edinburgh and lumping the very different cultures and countries together.
srah | 6:45 AM | TrackBack | Tags: travel, united states |
October 17, 2002
À Angers? En Angers?
I finally got up the nerve to call Antoine today and to speak to him in French, as I only did one hour a week at Albion, during la table française. I am way too proud of myself, considering it took me a couple of weeks to do it. I'm going for a visit in mid-November.
The nicest thing about our conversation was to learn that I'm not the only one who goes around chasing people from my significant other's native country, talking to them despite having nothing to say, in a vain effort to convince them that there is some kind of bond between me and my significant other's native country.
Did that paragraph make any sense? Tant pis, I understood it and that's all I care about.
Pidgin English
This morning, I caught myself telling my class that my sister has 18 years old. Their literally-translated-from-French English is affecting me too. I'm pretty sure there's no hope for me and I will come back in April unable to communicate in my native language. Or French, for that matter.
srah | 2:41 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack | Tags: assistantship, french |
Do you speak français?
I can tell already that I'm going to miss speaking French when I go back home in April. It will be frustrating and painful. I know this because it happened when I left Grenoble, too.
What I get used to here is that when I speak to Americans (or other English-speakers), they all speak French too. I get comfortable speaking to people who speak my language but don't mind if I start babbling at them in French. It's that easy, comfortable bilangualism that I miss, falling in and out of the two languages with people who speak both.
Dippy hermaphrodite Austen character seeks new book to read
The book-monster that is srah has finished Northanger Abbey. I think Catherine is one of Jane Austen's dippier main characters, but I also identified with her a lot.
Great, what does that say about me?
I also identified a lot with Henry Tilney, the male protagonist.
Great, what does that say about me?
srah | 2:30 PM | TrackBack | Tags: books, jane austen, northanger abbey |
Inertia is a property of srah
The Toussaint vacation is approaching (much more quickly than I'd realized, actually) and Jennifer is making amazing, fantastic, 700€ plans to travel around Spain. Much as I would have loved to accompany her, I don't want to spend 700€ on a trip before I even get my first 700€ paycheck (à la Spain was good, but now I have to starve for a month). Plus, I really don't feel like going anywhere. I know I'll regret it when I have no classes to go to, no Internet access, and everyone's gone, but staying home is so cheap and comfortable. I am a big lazy-ass.
srah | 2:25 PM | TrackBack | Tags: assistantship |
Marque!... euh, non
Two negative points for me in the ongoing game of Spot the American. Is it just me, or is it harder than it was two years ago? Damned Americanization.
Cute but dumb
We had a brief respite from the cold, but I think winter is coming now. Poop.
"J'ai froid aux jambes," said the dumb girl who wore a skirt today.
Stalker?
As my train arrived in Lyon, I remembered that it's the home of Rebeca, whose blog I read from time to time. In this, the second-largest city in France, I found myself imagining that I would run into her at the Lyon Part-Dieu train station and I would have my first accidental Blogmeet. I don't care how ridiculous it is - I'm going to cling to my pathetic, lonely fantasy... and now I've decided that she's going to Grenoble, too.
I bet Bath-water tastes better
Once upon a time, there was a girl who went to spend some time in a town known for its waters. When she arrived, she was very lonely. Sound familiar?
I am reading Northanger Abbey and quite enjoying it, so I will share some of my favorite parts:
"How uncomfortable it is," whispered Catherine, "not to have a single acquaintance here!"
"Yes, my dear," replied Mrs. Allen, with perfect serenity, "it is very uncomfortable indeed."
"What shall we do? The gentlemen and ladies at this table look as if they wondered why we came here -- we seem forcing ourselves into their party."
That's how I sometimes feel. Then, there's my blogging quote...
"But, perhaps, I keep no journal."
"Perhaps you are not sitting in this room, and I am not sitting by you. These are points in which a doubt is equally possible. Not keep a journal! How are your absent cousins to understand the tenour of your life in Bath without one? How are the civilities and compliments of every day to be related as they ought to be, unless noted down every evening in a journal? How are your various dresses to be remembered, and the particular state of your complexion, and curl of your hair to be described in all their diversities, without having constant recourse to a journal? My dear madam, I am not so ignorant of young ladies' ways as you wish to believe me; it is this delightful habit of journaling which largely contributes to form the easy style of writing for which ladies are so generally celebrated. Everybody allows that the talent of writing agreeable letters is peculiarly female. Nature may have done something, but I am sure it must be essentially assisted by the practice of keeping a journal."
srah | 12:40 PM | TrackBack | Tags: books, jane austen, northanger abbey, quote |
What say the voices in the sky?
I heard the announcement for the train to Paris as I was waiting for my train to Lyon, in Vichy. The announcement was in French, then repeated in English and in German. What a cosmopolitan little station! I was everso proud.
Speaking of train announcements, why does it seem to be the same voice in every station in France? I can't imagine it's a recording, because there are so many variations on what she has to say - train numbers, which one's late and by how much, etc. I've decided to imagine that the woman sits in SNCF headquarters in Paris and receives messages from the individual stations. Then she presses the "Vichy" button and says whatever the gare de Vichy told her to say. The problem with this theory is that she would never have time to eat or sleep.
srah | 10:50 AM | TrackBack | Tags: assistantship, france, travel |
Fin de semaine
My weekend this week begins now, at lunchtime on Thursday. Lucky girl! I'm sure I'll have loads to blog on Monday, after my adventures with the Freshies in Grenoble. I'm planning on indirectly telling them they're a bunch of alcoholics. Ha ha. This weekend is also when I'll be seeing the first film from the Club Cinéma, of which I am now a card-carrying member.
srah | 7:02 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack | Tags: assistantship |