Winter Storm '09!

Last night it started snowing in Washington. We woke up to 7 inches of snow, and by the afternoon we were up to 13. We went on a little excursion to a nearby bakery (I'd bought lots of cold weather food - fondue, raclette - but no baguette to go with it!) and took some photos.
Not surprisingly, no one here knows how to drive in the snow, although Jube says it shouldn't be so difficult for them to figure out that they need to drive slowly!

O-BA-MA!

As you may know, I have a job. I like it a lot, so I don't talk about it on my blog. This is one of the reasons why I haven't posted very much during the past year. Although it's reduced my blog posting frequency, today's episode should make up for all that. For you see, today my job allowed me to attend an Obama healthcare rally! Let's just say that I work at U to the M to the D. And guess where the president came to drum up support for his policies?

Here! And I was there to document it for you (and also to hear the president).

The information about the rally mentioned that it would start at 11:00am; that doors would open at 9:00am; and that people could start lining up at 5:00am. I figured I'd just arrive at my usual time and if I missed it, I'd head over to the office. As I approached the basketball arena, I saw that the line didn't seem too long. But then, a security guard stopped me. "Are you looking for the VIP line, or the regular line?" he asked.

"The regular line...?"

"It starts over there." He pointed across the parking lot. "Cross the footbridge, turn west, and you'll see all the people waiting."

So I set off.
I found this line. I was a bit surprised, considering that the rally venue was now almost directly behind me and over a footbridge, but... well... I didn't have much choice, did I? Besides, this was my chance to visit some of the campus I'd heard about but had never seen.
Oh! Here's a familiar landmark! I'd seen this stadium before, but never from this side.
Or from this close...
We continued on past the recreation center, and then finally got to the arena. I don't have any pictures of it because the security was really intense. As you might be able to tell from the pictures, it was a gray and rainy morning, so many attendees had brought umbrellas. We weren't allowed to bring them in with us, so there were hundreds of umbrellas decorating the low walls of the parking garage. I'd been warned about the "airport-like" security, so I had come prepared, bringing no purse and stuffing my pockets with my wallet, keys, phone, and camera. I also brought a library book because I figured I'd need it during my hours of waiting. Little did I know that it would cause a stir! Several women were turned away because of their purses, and the trashcans were full of lighters and bottle openers. The policeman almost confiscated my book, but I managed to convince him that I wasn't going to use it as a projectile (it was a library book, for goodness sake! I wouldn't risk my credit there).

Once in the arena, we waited in line for another half an hour before being allowed to take our seats. For about two hours after that, the marching band entertained us while we waited for Obama to arrive. I felt bad for the student who introduced him - we had been waiting so long for the president that when the announcer said, "Ladies and gentlemen, Rachel S*!" the crowd actually let out a disappointed groan before beginning to applaud. And then... the band played "Hail to the Chief" and out came Barack!

It really was almost like being at a rock concert. Cameras were flashing, people were screaming... I'm surprised no one threw underpants! Here is my video documentation of the whole thing:



There was one protester who screamed something about babies being killed (I couldn't really hear his exact terminology), but he soon left. When I got back to work, my colleagues had all watched his speech from the whitehouse.gov streaming video site, but they still wanted to know how it felt to be there. Later I found out that there were about 15,000 people in attendance. All in all, a good way to spend my personal leave!

*I'm sorry, I forget her name. It sounded like "See."

Weather

The weather has been warm, almost summery lately. We haven't wanted to turn on the air conditioning, so we've done one of my favorite things: slept with the windows open. It feels great until the neighbors next to you start pulling fence posts out of the ground at 8:00 in the morning and the guy across the street decides that mowing the lawn is best done at 8:45. And to think that I was looking forward to sleeping in on Memorial Day...

Morning Surprise

Yesterday, my morning seemed to be a normal morning. I got up, dressed, and out the door on time; I was listening to one of my normal walking songs as I headed to the bus stop. Since Daylight Saving Time started, my mornings have been much nicer, since I don't have to scramble in the dark. However, as I neared the main road, I saw a very strange sight... a red car was in someone's front yard!

Now, at first I thought it might have been deliberate. This house has, in the past few days, lost its shutters, its lawn furniture, and a lot of its vegetation. So someone parking their car there didn't seem so strange. Then I realized that the car had knocked down a couple of panels of chain link and sported a crushed side and front. I saw the driver sitting on the front steps of the house, looking forlornly at the cell phone in his hand. I almost walked by, but then I reminded myself that we have to help when we find ourselves in these situations.

"Sir? Are you all right?" I called. "Do you need me to call anyone?"

He looked up at me, surprised. "No, no, I just called someone. But thank you so much for asking." I thought he was probably still in shock.

Then I did something bad: I waited for him to turn his back and sneaked my camera out of my purse to snap a photo. Unfortunately I was so nervous that he would catch me that this is all I managed to catch:


It's tough to see, but there's the car, just behind and to the left of the tree in the foreground. You can also see the missing spots for shutters on the house...

Surprise!

The other day, Jube and I were watching TV around 9pm, relaxing after a day of work. We had even finished our household chores, taking out the trash, checking our mailbox, folding our laundry...

Suddenly our door burst open. Jube looked up, surprised. I shrieked a little bit, startled at the intruder. And a young Indian man, looking even more shocked than we felt, started stammering out an apology.

"I am so sorry!" he said, in his lilting accent. "I thought this was 514, not 513!"

He was so uncomfortable and embarrassed that I had to stand up to shut the door for him--he had thrown it open so that it was resting at 90 degrees from the exterior wall, and he didn't want to take the step in to our apartment that closing the door would require.

"That's okay," I said, "No harm done!"

When he left, I burst out laughing. Jube winked at me, saying, "At least you were wearing decent clothes!"

I had almost forgotten about this, but on Sunday my mother asked me over the phone if we had met any of our new neighbors yet...

Coincidence or Destiny?

I bought some nice tasty chocolate today in my favorite flavor: Dark Cherry Almond. In France I could find the Lindt version of this flavor at certain times of the year, but I hadn't seen it at all in the US until I went to our local "Natural Market." It is so expensive that I buy it very rarely, but I went for it today. On the outside of the wrapper, it said, "Love Poetry Inside!!" I thought it was kind of weird, but also kind of neat.

When I got home, I unwrapped the chocolate and took a look at the love poetry. I was very surprised to find that the poem was Shelley's "Love's Philosophy"--the same poem that my cousin read during Jube's and my wedding! It's been about 10 months since we were married and the wedding is not often in my thoughts. What a nice reminder to receive (and even better, it came with chocolate).

Of course my memory was tainted when Jube said, "That's what she read? Who picked that?" Which, of course, prompted me to vigorously defend myself by pointing out that he had had final veto power over all of the points of the wedding, and then he had to defend himself by saying, "No, no, I'm not saying I don't like it. I do like it! I just don't remember it..." which then... but you don't care, do you? Just enjoy today's chocolatey love poetry:

Love's Philosophy, by Percy Bysshe Shelley

The fountains mingle with the river,
And the rivers with the ocean;
The winds of heaven mix forever,
With a sweet emotion;
Nothing in the world is single;
All things by a law divine
In one another's being mingle--
Why not I with thine?

See! the mountains kiss high heaven,
And the waves clasp one another;
No sister flower would be forgiven,
If it disdained its brother;
And the sunlight clasps the earth,
And the moonbeams kiss the sea--
What are all these kissings worth,
If thou kiss not me?

Conclusive Evidence

We never ordered you. We went through at least three strongly worded e-mails canceling you. We cashed the check that we received in the mail for finally getting you out of our mailbox. But somehow... you keep coming back!

Definitive proof that Maxim is the Devil's Work arrived in our letter carrier's pouch today...

In other news, le Pacha called us today to tell us he is feeling sick, and even threw up! Because of this, he wasn't able to go to the free concerts on the beach in Palavas les Flots. Belle-maman, who called on his behalf and wanted to tell me that he had a little upset stomach, managed to get past her own squeamishness and tell me le Pacha a gerbe! Then she laughed and laughed, providing definitive proof that she reads my blog.

Finally, as if we needed more proof that Jube has a bad memory, we received a Netflix movie in the mail yesterday that neither of us had heard of. The Host is a Korean horror flick in the tradition of Shaun of the Dead (in that it doesn't seem to take itself too seriously, although it was not meant to be as funny). A nasty mutant monster that looks like a three-way cross between a squid, a newt, and an ugly fish begins terrorizing Seoul and kidnaps a 13-year-old girl. Her messed-up family goes after her, hindered by misinformation spread by the US government (who also, by the way, created the pollution that gave birth to the monster). He denied that he had ever heard of the movie and hadn't put it on our queue--and as proof that I was the one who had chosen it, he said, "You're the one who always wants to watch Japanese movies." But then he recanted when he found out it was Korean.

Next on the list? A Year in the Life of Metallica: Part 1. Seriously.

Mystery Science Theater 2007

I don't usually yell at the TV. If something is funny, I'll make a joke about it with Jube; maybe I'll make fun of the way the commercials sound, or we'll laugh about the stupid answers on "Family Feud." Today, though, I couldn't help shouting back at the television. We were watching the Republican Presidential Primary Debate in Iowa. Why did we watch it? Well, at first I changed the channel, but there wasn't anything else on (no cable for us). Then I figured that since Virginia primaries are open, I could vote for the lesser of 15 evils when the time comes around. So I watched it. I soon discovered quite a few things:

-One candidate actually proposed bombing Mecca as a hypothetical reaction to Islamic terrorist action in the US. Jube said, "Not even Le Pen would say that--even if he dreams about it!"

-Rudy Giuliani can't get over being mayor of New York. We get it--you were mayor! You were even mayor during 9/11! WE KNOW. You don't have to mention it every time you answer a question.

-Fundamentalism is alive and well: when asked his greatest mistake, one candidate answered, "I waited 30 years before accepting Jesus Christ as my personal savior." That's great, but I would have been more interested in a political mistake.

I felt a little bit sick to my stomach and had a headache from yelling at the screen. The French election was more fun for me to follow--all of a sudden, I'm realizing how this will personally affect me. I'm back in the US, baby.

End of an Era

My first job came to an end today. Next week I have a mini vacation (I'm writing papers, starting a new class, and attending 2 meetings), and after that my internship kicks in at 30 hours a week. I can still pretend that things will be calmer around here, right? And instead of sleeping in tomorrow, I'm getting up early and going to Busch Gardens with my friend Rosa! Jube will spend a men's day in with Willy, playing guitar and X-Box 360. In fact, he is brushing up on his video game skills right now by watching an instructional video ("See? The Germans are hiding behind the fence, but I can shoot the fence. That shows you that you shouldn't assume that you can hide behind everything!").

I have a funny post coming up, but I lost the cable that connects my camera to the computer somewhere in our apartment and I'm too lazy to find it right now. Just shiver in anticipation...

Another Day, Another Problem to Resolve...

The other day Jube received a copy of Maxim in the mail. At first we thought it was a mixup, but then realized that it really had his name on it. Argh!!

Maxim is the stupidest magazine in the world!!! I mean, if it were real pornography, then it would at least have a reason to exist, but its inane articles and almost-sexy photographs add up to a big boring. (I do have to admit that I read it all, but that was because I was out of fiction in the bathroom...)

Whatever, no big deal, right? Well, then we got a letter from Guitar World, a magazine we really do subscribe to, saying that we had to renew the subscription. Suddenly I realized what had happened (and had some bad flashback feelings as well...):

A few months ago some stupid college kids came to our apartment selling magazine subscriptions. I refused them until they said they could renew our subscription to Guitar World on the cheap. I paid for it. This sparked a fight between me and Jube, because he thought that they had taken advantage of me. Well damn and if he wasn't right!

They either lied about having subscriptions to Guitar World or made an honest mistake, but instead I paid for two years of Maxim (the stupidest magazine in the world, please let me reiterate). If I could exchange it for a subscription to Ms. or Guitar World, I would... but of course that is "impossible at this time," according to the company.

Luckily (very luckily!) I managed to save the receipt and they will refund my money. I think the worst part of the whole deal is having to admit to Jube that he was right--and its corollary: I did something dumb...

Strawberry Sunburn

Today Jube and I went to the Pungo Strawberry Festival. It was really fun. The weather is really hot now, and there wasn't a cloud in the sky today, so I tried to be good and covered up with sunscreen. It worked on my face, but I didn't get it right on my collarbones, so I have little red sunburn streaks. At least it's better than the half-body sunburn I got once in Spain...

The Strawberry Festival reminded me a little bit of the county fair in my home town. There were funnelcakes and carnival rides galore along with some livestock and tractor showings. There were also some definite "Hampton Roads" additions: a military show, where we saw attack dogs and were able to handle assault weapons; a "Support National Confederate History Month" booth; and barbecue sandwiches with cole slaw right inside the bun. And of course, there were lots and lots of strawberries.

The highlight of the day for me was the two huge souvenir glasses of strawberry lemonade I drank. I didn't need dinner after the amount of sugar I consumed! The other highlight was just lazing in the shade (with my big glass of strawberry lemonade) and chatting with Lorene and Jube. It was really relaxing, especially after our busy morning!

You see, on Friday we went to the Disabled Army Veterans' Thrift Store to buy Jube some ties. While we were there, we saw a great desk for only $20--but DAV doesn't deliver and we don't have a pickup truck. My friend Rosa does, but she could only make it by Saturday morning at the earliest. So today we woke up early, drove out to DAV, and snatched our desk out from under the nose of someone who was eyeing it! Rosa helped us drive it home, and then we had to take it apart, take it up to the third floor, and put it back together again. By the time we left for the Strawberry Festival I was already sweating.

Of course the best showers are after being hot all day long because you feel like you've lost weight (bye bye sweat and dust!). I learned that in France during the heatwave summer of 2003, which was coincidentally when Jube passed the oral section of the English teaching test. Kudos! I say--I could barely think and all I had to do was go to the beach!

Lucky Day

Jube and I took advantage of the beautiful spring weather to walk to the organic grocery store near our house. We were having a spirited discussion when...

*splat!*

We both stopped short. I was gagging because I felt bird waste on my forehead between my eyes, and Jube was groaning because of the bird caca on his head.

"Look at me! Just look at my face!" I screamed.

"It must just have gone pee, I don't see anything," he told me, inspecting my face. "Check my hair."

It was clean. "You know," I said, "I don't think it was bird pee at all. I think that the birds must have been taking a bath in the gutter and splashed us with water."

"Yeah," Jube agreed, "water. Birds take baths."

We walked away, muttering, "water... water...? water!"

Finally.... Over....

Last night I went out with some friends to celebrate the end of classes. Unfortunately I couldn't really "celebrate" a whole lot because I had to work today at 8:00am! This semester I didn't work on Fridays, so it was a terribly harsh sound this morning when my alarm clock went off. But I soldiered on by wearing my cutest Kookai skirt that made everyone talk about how fashionable I was. (No, I didn't exactly hear them saying that, but I'm sure that's what they were whispering about.)

And I worked haaaaaaard! Since I'd missed some days this week because of exams, I had a lot to catch up on, and then we had a little event that I helped set up. Luckily Jube came to "volunteer" (is it still volunteering when your significant other forces you to help?) and we snagged enough leftover food to eat for a long time. Then he went off to Willy's house to jam and I relaxed.

When I say he went to a friend's to "jam," you all know that I meant he went to play the guitar, right? Well, in French, you just say jouer, or to "play." When I first talked about him getting together to make some music with friends back in the US, I kept saying, "Oh, they're playing together." I didn't realize for awhile how silly it sounded. So yeah, Jube is over at Willy's house playing. I hope he has a great time, 'cause I'm having some wonderful relaxing moments here by myself. Yes, WONDERFUL!

P.S. I'm sure you all thought I forgot to blog today, but I didn't! See? Now I've met my FINAL final deadline.

Maybe He Was Right...

I guess it has to happen sometimes. I finished my last two paragraphs but I haven't started my last (lastlastlast!!!!) paper yet. Due at noon tomorrow. Will probably be written tonight in front of the TV.

In other (non-school-related) news, it was my birthday yesterday! My dad woke me up in the morning to wish me a great day, and Lorene called me at work after scaring Jube with her German birthday wishes. My boss gave me a really nice card and invited us out to dinner with her and her husband next week. Then last night Jube took me out to the restaurant where we stuffed ourselves.

I dressed up in a Promod dress I'd bought a couple of years ago and wore the Fragonard perfume he bought me during our first trip to Eze. He wore shorts and his "Crabby Dick's" t-shirt, which I thought was a great choice since we were going to a rival restaurant, Joe's Crab Shack. (Yeah, I was probably way overdressed, but I don't get to dress up too much and it was fun!) We had shrimp, crab dip, dessert, all on the pier in downtown Norfolk. Funnily enough there were two tables of French men nearby.

Then we came home where I fell asleep almost immediately and I woke up this morning with a sore throat, having caught a little bug. That must be why I haven't started my paper yet, right?

Ahh!

Only yesterday I was thinking that I hadn't done anything interesting lately. I wrote one of the most boring blog entries ever, because I couldn't think of anything you might like to hear about, but I wanted you to know that I am still alive.

I almost wasn't, today.

As I was crossing the road on my bike to get back home,


a car hit me.


I was hit by a car!!! A pickup truck, actually, hauling a trailer. I couldn't believe my eyes as I saw the truck coming closer and closer to me... I remembered to look at the driver's face, in his eyes, as my dad taught me--but he wasn't looking at me! I didn't have time to scream, and he hit my back wheel as he hit his brakes. The bike kind of jumped 2 feet away from the truck and I fell on my right leg. I didn't really understand what had happened to me, even though I heard two pedestrians shouting. After yelling at the driver a little bit, I actually got up and hopped on my bicycle again, ready to bike back home, but the chain had been jolted off of the gears and it wouldn't go. I was forced to walk it to my apartment. The driver of the truck apologized--"I'm really so so sorry, ma'am!"--and a good Samaritan double checked before the truck drove away.

When I got back to my apartment, I still hadn't figured out what had happened. I had to tell Jube that my bike was broken and that I was hit by a car for it to REALLY hit me. I kind of cried a little bit and had time to be glad I'd bought health insurance. I was also glad that my only injury was a little scrape on the ankle and some splinters in my hand.

To feel better, I went to get my hair trimmed at a nearby salon (I had a coupon). I am a little disappointed with the result, since she gave me kind of poofy hair. Jube told me, "I'm sure it will look better when you wash it," which means it's probably pretty bad. But since I had to leave my regular coiffeuse, Belle-maman, I guess I shouldn't have expected anything amazing.

To sum it up:

hit by a car + bad haircut = not an amazing day


But at work we had chocolate ice cream cake, so it wasn't a total bust.

Skiing, or the Rally of Monte Carlo

Jube and I woke up this morning at 7:30am. That's right, we woke up at 7:30 on a Saturday. Why did we do that? To go skiing, of course! Isola 2000, the most southern ski station in France, is only an hour and a half from Nice. Since it snowed early this week, almost all of the pistes were open, and the weather report predicted sun with highs (in the mountains) of 2 degrees Celcius. Jube's family loves skiing, and I was pretty excited about our ski trip en amoureux. We drove out of the parking lot at 8:20; we were back 2 hours later.

What happened? At first, everything seemed to be going fine. We stopped for gas on the outskirts of Nice, and as we drove along we could see the snow-covered peaks of the Alps getting closer and closer. The sun was shining on the mountains, and they glistened temptingly in the distance. Then, suddenly, the traffic ground to a halt. We drove in deceiving spurts. First, we were stuck in bumper-to-bumper traffic, with no one getting anywhere. Then we were driving along at 90km/h without a care in the world. Every time this happened, we thought, "Ah, it's cleared up, we can get going now." And then we would see the taillights flash red in front of us, and Jube would pound on the steering wheel in frustration. Finally we decided to turn around at the next intersection and head back home when we realized that we would only be able to ski for 4 hours at most. We finally caught sight of a bridge that crossed the river Var near the town of Gilette. (Do you think that's where they make the shaving cream?)

As we made the U-turn, we saw some policemen directing traffic over the bridge, and some people with cameras gathered around. Then two muddy sports cars revved their engines, and we realized that it was part of the Rally of Monte Carlo. We had some vague knowledge of the Rally's existence from the news reports we had heard all morning. This threw Jube into even deeper spasms of frustration. "Of course we went the only day it would be blocked!" he raged. "Stupid jerky road!" (He actually said "route à la con!" but I figure my translation is good enough.)

So we just arrived back at the good ol' villa. I wonder what we'll do today . . .

My Thursay

I feel bad that I haven't posted anything lately. Let me tell you why:

Last weekend, I got sick. I kind of felt nauseated, but not enough to stop me from eating or to actually make me vomit. I just felt very congested, with a major (non-stop) headache. I felt so bad that I considered calling in sick on Monday and going to the doctor. Miraculously (and I'm serious here) I woke up feeling fine--no headache, just some major snot. [I have a really gross confession about it that I'll post at the bottom of the page so if you don't want to read it you don't have to.*]

I've been working ever since. I thought it might interest you if I told you about my day, since I always say I work, but I don't really describe it in detail. Keep in mind that today is not a typical day, because I don't have typical days; my schedule changes pretty constantly. Today was, in fact, a pretty nice day.

9:20am: Wake up. Ahhh how nice it is to be able to sleep in! 9 glorious hours of sleep!
9:30am: Eat a bowl of "Chocolate Coated Rice" in bed while finishing Douglas Adams's The Long Dark Tea-Time of the Soul.
10:40am: Leave for work. 15 minutes from my house to the highway; 7 minutes on the highway; 7 minutes to my workplace.
11:09am: Arrival. Photocopies and last-minute lesson planning.
11:40am: Student arrives, 10 minutes late. Great! I only have to teach until 1:00pm! We talk about the past simple and the present perfect. Wow.
1:00pm: One student leaves, a new one arrives. We also talk about the past simple and the present perfect, with some 1st and 2nd conditional and modal verbs thrown in. Double wow.
2:30pm: I record my lessons and leave for lunch. Today I ate at Courtepaille. It was my first time, and it was great. I ate grilled sausages and French fries, with salad and a hot pecan brownie with ice cream. I read Dostoevsky's The Idiot and relaxed until 4:00pm.
4:05pm: Arrival back at work. I prepare for my new student--a video! No grammar! When I was in high school and college, I used to love it when we watched movies in class. Now I see that the teachers loved it too, because it means you don't have to prepare anything.
5:30pm: Student arrives. We talk and watch the movie (it's about Wales).
7:30pm: Student leaves and I clean up the office.
7:37pm: Student shows up again, claiming that the door to the building is locked. I clean up faster.
7:40pm: I release student and head to my car.
8:10pm: Home Sweet Home!

I hope you enjoyed that. My day was nice, especially since it started off with breakfast in bed. 11:30 as a starting time might be my favorite--it's still the morning, so you don't feel bad about not doing anything before, but it's still late enough to laze around at home. (Jube took the 8:36am bus into town, but he finished at noon. I don't feel guilty about not dropping him off.)




*The Really Gross Confession: I had been trying to hock a loogie all weekend, because I just couldn't breathe out of my nose. Unfortunately, no loogie could be hocked because I couldn't suck it down the other way, either! When I woke up on Monday, I could feel that sucker moving around in my sinuses. My throat was RAW from all the loogie-hocking I had tried during the night. Suddenly--Eureka! I would BLOW my nose! I did that, and within seconds an absolutely humongous glob of snot popped out. Like really, really huge. About an inch and a half in diameter. I wanted to show it to Jube, but he's kind of squeamish about that kind of stuff, so I threw it away... but that night, when I got home, I picked the kleenex out of the trash and looked at it again. It was that prodigious!

Thursday

I finally went to the lab today. When I went to the doctor she just wrote me a prescription and then told me to go to this random "laboratory" for a blood sample. Of course I put it off for weeks and weeks, but today was the last day I could do it without getting up really early (my new schedule is crazy--I work nights 4 days a week and start between 9 and 11:30 every day. I say crazy, but I guess it's kind of normal, eh?).

Afterwards, I had about half an hour to kill before I picked Jube up at work, so I went to the train station. Why would I go to the train station? Well, you can find both English language magazines and vending machines, both good things for killing time. There are also lots of people going lots of places, and I like to imagine that all I have to do is buy a quick train ticket and then hop a train anywhere and then I would be just one of them--but they don't know I'm not one of them, so it's perfect anonymity. That might not make sense, but I like train stations. So I was reading my European Time and eating a "lion" candy bar when a young woman approached me.

"Excusez-moi, I'm a journalist and I'd like to ask you some questions. Is that all right?" I explained that I was American, and she might prefer a French person to answer. She seemed a tiny bit let down but continued anyway. "What do you think about the events that happened on the train this weekend?"

She was referring to an incident on New Year's Day when a gang of about 30 youths "rampaged" through a train. They stole things, beat people up, and even sexually assaulted a young woman. When the police were called, only two were sent (for a train of about 12 cars, obviously not enough), and they arrived late.

Well, what can you think about events like that? "I don't approve."

Her expression brightened slightly--I obviously knew how to speak a little French and I knew something about French current events. "Do you feel safe riding trains?"

"Well, I used to ride trains all the time, and I never felt unsafe. I think that the problem was that not enough policemen were sent and they didn't arrive on time."

She got a big smile on her face. "Oh! Well, you speak French really well, not much accent... Do you mind if I record you?" With that, she whipped out a microphone with "RTL2" written on it, one of the biggest talk radio stations in France. "Now, repeat what you just said. Now, what do you think of M. Sarkozy's proposal to put more policemen on trains?"

She even asked me what I thought of M. Sarkozy's politics, but I played it safe and told her I couldn't vote here. I guess I might get famous, now!

Thanksgiving Dinner

This is a picture of the turkey before I baked it. I gave it a nice massage with oil and scented herbs and stuffed it full of bread. Then it got to go in the sauna for about 3 hours. And afterwards, it got to undergo surgical weight loss. It was very tasty!

I freaked out about 45 minutes into the roasting because there was no juice to baste it and it didn't looked cooked at all! I called my parents, who reassured me that it would turn out fine. And it certainly did, no small thanks to the thermometer that my mother sent it to me when I couldn't find one in France! All of the guests enjoyed it, and the pumpkin pie was authentically delicious. Yum! I also made green bean casserole, mashed potatoes, and gravy. Miam! On my way home from work, I stopped to buy some cranberry sauce. I had searched everywhere, and finally asked the English video clerk where to find it. There were tons of other products too, like Dr Pepper, Worcestershire Sauce, and salad dressing--even cream of mushroom soup! I had given up on making the green bean casserole without cream of mushroom soup, since I couldn't find it, and I finally decided not to buy it either because it cost about 3 Euros per can! The cranberry sauce cost 2€90, but I ended up buying it anyway. It was worth it.

Now I think the turkey chemicals are kicking in, because we all settled down to watch television (although there is no parade or football game) and are quietly dozing off . . .

Monday, Monday

Mondays are the worst days of the week. I know that you've heard this said a million ways (by Garfield, too), but I have a specific reason for it: I leave home at 8:00am and get home at 8:30pm. I begin work in Sophia Antipolis, go back to Nice after lunch, and the go back to Sophia for an evening class. You can check out a map of the area here (it's about 17km one way, between Nice and Antibes). I pay 2€60 in tolls and use up lots of expensive gas, all just to add more stress to my day (and earn a few sous*).

Yesterday was the worst Monday yet. After a three-day weekend, I didn't feel like going back to work. What's more, I started a new morning job "in company," which meant that I had to find the company myself. I managed to arrive at the new company on time, but the building was completely secured. (Sophia Antipolis is the "Silicon Valley" of France, so most of the companies make use of magnetized cards to enter the parking lots, the elevators, and miscellaneous other places.) I pushed the intercom button of my company, and let it ring for about a minute. No one answered, so I pushed the button again. By this time, there were about 3 cars behind me, so I backed up and parked on a dirt pulloff by the road. Muttering in English under my breath, I stomped past the barriers and started to search for the company.

In this particular building complex, there were three or four different companies, and of course there were no signs anywhere pointing me to "mine." I walked all the way up to the parking lot where I should have parked, with no indication of the right direction. When I found the company, I was about five minutes late. I entered the building, but here again the doors were locked against spies, without a secretary on the exterior. I found a door with the company's logo on it with another intercom button. I didn't have high hopes, but I pushed this button, too. I pushed it again and again, each time that it stopped beeping. Finally someone opened the door (in my opinion surprised that I had the stamina to keep annoying them) and asked me to follow them upstairs to the secretary's office. By this time I was 15 minutes late.

They didn't seem to have any clue that an English teacher was coming to give group lessons, but I asked for my students and one of them was at work, so I could teach him. He explained to me (in French) that someone--he implied some disgruntled employee--had put glue in the lock of the secretary's office, so they hadn't been able to enter all day. Indeed, our lesson was interrupted by loud banging and drilling noises from down the hall. When I left, they had managed to open the door and (allegedly) they were ready to open gates and doors for authorized intruders. As I left, I couldn't help thinking about what would have happened if I were a client. I'm already dreading my return next Monday . . .

*I was going to say "bucks," but Euros aren't bucks, are they?