Thanksgiving!! Oh wait, that was last Thursday...

Yeah, so I've been bad again. After promising myself I would post while on vacation, I didn't. (I didn't write my paper either, which is part of the reason I haven't posted until now.) What I did do was eat a wonderful Thanksgiving meal made by my parents, Jube, and my brother, and then went shopping the next day. What an American week! When we got back to Norfolk, I stayed up all night writing my paper. I'm really back in the saddle again!

On Monday we watched the finale of the Bachelor. I was annoyed because it was two hours (from 9-11), and seriously, if there's an episode that should last two hours, it's not the last one. That's too long to focus on two women. Not only that, I was under the impression it would only last the normal hour. Around 9:45 Jube told me he wanted some ice cream. Since I am a wonderful, nice wife, I told him he could feel free to get some ice cream at the 7-11 around the corner.

"But then I won't be able to see the end of the Bachelor!" he said.

"What? I thought you hated this show," I said.

"Imagine if I forced you to sit through a really bad movie for like 10 hours. Would you leave 15 minutes before the end?"

I guess he has a point.

Homecoming '06

I don't post as much as I wish I did. Maybe soon I'll set myself a challenge--a post a day or something like that. But I think I'll wait until after finals...

Anyway, this week here at Old Dominion University is Homecoming! There have been lots of fun activities that I haven't attended because of work, class, and downright laziness (I'm real lazy, y'know?). But yesterday I decided to take part in the festivities. I called Willie and Monique, rounded up Jube, and headed to the official pre-game Tailgate Party beside the Constant Center. They fed us like Americans should be fed.



ODU is wayyy bigger than my undergrad, Wittenberg University, but I got used to most of the differences pretty quickly. Sure, there are lots of buildings on campus, but I only have class in two of them. I can ignore all the others. Yeah, yeah, ODU's International Center is a whole building, with at least 20 employees, and Witt only had one full-timer... And of course the student center here is really big, with its own travel agency, Starbucks, and Quizznos... but really, that's surface stuff. What I can't get used to is the Constant Center. It is really huge. Jube is going to see Godsmack there; I bought tickets to see Agassi play a charity match. And the coolest part is that, as a student, I can get in to see the basketball teams play for free! Here's a picture of half of the basketball court in the Constant Center:



The funniest part of going to basketball games here are the ODU Cheerleaders and Dance Team. It wouldn't be funny except that Jube and Monique were disappointed that the cheerleaders didn't dance like in the movies (I guess they're thinking about American Pie, et al.). Luckily for them, towards the end of the game both the dance team and the cheerleading squad swept out onto the court to do their very popular dance to "Ice Cream and Cake," leading the student section in their trademarked gestures.



Here the students aren't dancing, but rather heckling the opposing team like a student section should.

Hm hm...

Due to an inundation of requests (two!), I am going to post some pictures here. Now, you may have noticed that I don't post pictures of myself or other people I know, so these pictures might be a little bit bland. But it's the best I can do without compromising my principles!

Here are the first pics:

While it might not seem to have much to do with the wedding, it does. I took the belle-famille to Washington, DC to visit all of the monuments. We stayed there all day long, and boy oh boy were we ever tired by the end of it! As you can see, it was a beautiful day, although it was also very cold. We enjoyed the beautiful fall foliage.





We also saw the sculpture garden by the National Archives, where there is a reproduction of a Paris metro stop. Le Parisien had me take a picture of him descending the metro stairs with the Archives behind--a surreal picture for his friends.



This next one is a picture of our two wedding cakes as seen from above. One of them is a pretty traditional American cake. It had no icing, just a layer of white chocolate. Inside there was white chocolate mousse. The other cake is the traditional French piece montee (pretend like you can see the accents there). We got it from the baker at the restaurant where we had our reception, and the choux were very tasty indeed! You can also see my bouquet here. La Parisienne caught it... it makes all of us hope that they will be married soon for an excuse to go to Martinique!



These final two pictures are from the reception. The food was amazing! The first one is the main course--Angus beef with juniper berry sauce and a "cheddar brioche bread pudding." Then you can see our trio of desserts.





Behind the desserts are some "Halloween crackers." They were lots of fun to open and everyone wore their paper crowns.

I don't mean to throw myself flowers, but Belle-maman told us it was the classiest wedding she'd ever attended. (It's probably because there were only 20 of us there, meaning we could have really good food. Beau-papa, le Parisien, and the other two older male guests even enjoyed Louis XIII Cognac! The bartender was French and they could order whatever they wanted!)

All in all, a great wedding--if I do say so myself.

Phew

What

A

Week.

Last Friday, I took Jube's family to Washington, DC where I walked all of our legs off. We visited the Mall and all of its monuments as well as three museums. Then we got married on Sunday. It was lots of fun (really, it was!) and on Monday we zipped back to Norfolk so I could go to class. Tuesday and Wednesday I worked, and then I jetted (well, hitched a ride) back to DC to attend a conference. So I'm just writing this really crappy little blog to let everyone know I am totally fine and--now--married. I've received lots of emails from friends I haven't seen for a long time and I haven't been able to answer a single one! Also, since I was in DC at this conference, I haven't been able to talk to any of those who called on the phone! Soon, soon, soon I will write you all emails and call you all. And soon I will write a new, interesting, fun-filled blog.

I promise.

Oh My!

This weekend...

Friday: Jube and I rent a silver minivan and eat an early lunch. He then drives to The Plains, VA, and then to Dulles Airport, where le Parisien and his girlfriend arrive late in the evening.

Saturday: Jube, le Parisien, and la Parisienne go shopping at the Outlet Mall near The Plains. Afterwards they check out a vineyard close by and visit the quaint downtown area of Middleburg, Virginia.

Sunday: The three Frenchies go to the new Air and Space Museum near Dulles Airport in the morning. Le Pacha, Belle-maman and Beau-papa arrive in the afternoon. Afterwards they tour a country inn and meet some friends of my parents. That evening they go to bed early after watching part of a movie.

Monday: The new arrivals wake up at 1:30am, and les Parisiens awake at 4:00am. By the time Jube gets up, they are ready to go! They head out to the Outlet Mall again and then visit some nearby fall festivals.

Meanwhile........

Friday: I have my last outing as a free woman. I go to Thea's house where I drink some beer and watch The Office (American version). I also eat most of Thea's homemade cheeseball.

Saturday: I write three papers. I eat some leftovers and only leave the apartment to go to 7-11 because I run out of milk.

Sunday: I grind out one more paper and manage to do the research for one more. I also paint my finger- and toenails, use an algae mask, and take a long shower.

Monday: I go to work. Afterwards I eat lunch at the Student Center, where I meet Monique. She is a student at ODU's English Language Center and is from Cameroon. We speak for about an hour in English and then an hour in French, when I realize that I'm running late for class. I hop on my bike and speed over where I sit through two presentations.

That's it so far...

Ache

Jube left yesterday in a rented minivan to pick up le Parisien and his girlfriend at the airport. Today they are going outlet shopping and eating lots of good American food.

I, on the other hand, am still in Norfolk, trying to finish my homework for the next two weeks. I'm going to be getting married, going to a conference in DC, and (supposedly) reading for the next week's worth of classes. I don't know how it will all happen, but I'm trying. Right now I'm lying in bed with my books scattered around me. I have started a paper and am doing research for another. However, in the course of my research, I stumbled upon this blog. My chest aches because I miss Montpellier so much! It reminds me of when Jube would leave and go back to France while I continued studying at Wittenberg. Maybe it's because he left yesterday and brought those memories back, but I don't think so.

I really fell in love when I moved to France. Of course being with Jube had a lot to do with it, but it wasn't everything. I had never known what it was like to be attached to a place until I lived in Montpellier. I loved waking up and riding my bike through town to the train station to go to work. I loved exploring the city, alone and with my friends. I really loved it when my family came to visit and I could share my favorite places with them. I hope that someday I can recapture those feelings. I loved living. Sometimes, walking home from the nearby grocer's, after a long day at work and annoyed because I had to go shopping before I could cook dinner, I would just stop and look around and realize how lucky I was. Simply smelling the Mediterranean heat or hearing the lives of the other inhabitants of the city could make me feel calmer.

Maybe someday I'll feel the same way about another place, but right now I can't. I'm jealous when I read about someone else discovering my city, my Montpellier. And even though I know I have 5 papers to write, and la belle-famille's visit to plan, and menus to translate... I can't stop thinking about the one glorious year I spent in Montpel'.

As Though I Didn't Know What Would Happen...

Yesterday Jube and I went to the DMV. It was a pretty involved process for us, since we don't have a car right now and the DMV is really far away from downtown Norfolk (I guess they figure you have a car if you're going there... whatever!). We biked into Ghent where we could catch the bus that went out to Military Circle. It was a 30 minute bus ride, but we made it.

When we arrived, I warned Jube that it was something like the Prefecture. "The building doesn't look too big, though," he mentioned, happily. As soon as we walked inside and he caught a gimpse of the dozens of chairs and tellers, he smiled ruefully. "Bureaucracy is the same everywhere, I guess."

We waited in line at the information desk, where the woman approved Jube's documents and declined mine--I didn't have two acceptable proofs of identity. I'll go back next time with my passport, I guess. It took 15 more minutes for us to be called up to the desk, where the teller spent a lot of time trying to decide whether Jube's license could be exchanged or not. It turns out that it CAN be exchanged, but Jube (like me) needed another form of identity. Of course they wouldn't accept his carte nationale d'identite or his driver's licence.

We took it in good form, however. We're used to dealing with stuff like that--and it wasn't nearly as bad as the immigration section of the Prefecture!

Unchained

So, I've gotten a complaint that I don't update my blog. Well, goodness me! Can't you figure that Jube and I are enjoying our time together and don't want to be interrupted? Luckily I have him slaving away over the hot stove right now, so I can sneak off for five minutes to write in my carnet.

As you may remember, I left you with Jube's arrival imminent. I finished work at 1pm on Friday, and I thought about getting my rental car a little bit early so I could spend the night with my parents, but I decided the time was better spent doing homework and cleaning the house in anticipation of Jube's homecoming. As I cleaned, I heard the wind outside pick up. I had heard some rumors that we were expecting a noreaster, but since I'd already experienced Tropical Storm Ernesto, I wasn't really worried. It turned out, though, that when I called the rental car company to come pick me up, that portions of different streets around Norfolk were flooded. What's more, my street was flooded for about 100 feet right in front of my apartment building, as I discovered when I went outside to wait for my car. When they arrived, they told me we had to go pick up ANOTHER car... it took us about an hour to get there, since we kept having to backtrack and take alternate routes because of the patchy flooding. I was finally on my way at 11:30am (I had wanted to get going by 9:30). I followed the storm until Richmond, when I turned off of the highway and managed to escape the rain for a bit.

By the time I reached my parents' house, it was already time to drive to the airport! We zipped out there, only to wait for about an hour while Jube braved the long Immigration lines. After he emerged (with his guitar and all his bags, thank goodness!), we went to the mall to get him acclimated to America. We also bought Indian food as a welcome gift.

On Monday we drove out to the French Embassy, where we easily publier-ed les bans and got information about registering our marriage afterwards. Then on Tuesday we went to the courthouse and got our marriage license. We filled out the information (Jube hardly remembered his parents' middle names), and the secretary gave us some Hershey's kisses "as a keepsake." Jube immediately popped his into his mouth when the County Clerk appeared.

"Raise your right hands," she said.

We raised our right hands, and she launched into her speech: "Do you swear that you the information you have given us is correct, that you intend to marry each other and that you are legally free to marry?"

With his mouth full of chocolate, Jube said "I do."

Later, he told me, "I had no idea she was going to make us talk!! I wouldn't have eaten it otherwise!"

Ahh well. Now we have under 2 weeks till la belle-famille arrives, and under 3 till we are married (and I've got only 2 weeks to do allllll sorts of homework, too! Augh!).

Insomniac

I haven't been able to sleep very well for the past few days. You ask why? Well, it's all for one reason: Jube is arriving on Saturday! Hooray! We have a long weekend in front of us. Luckily it's my fall break, so I have Monday and Tuesday to do all sorts of fun bureaucratic things with him. We are going to go to the French Embassy in Washington, DC, to publier les bans--publish the banns--on Monday. We want this wedding to be legal in France, too!

Then on Tuesday we'll go to the public registrar in Virginia to get the marriage license. Fortunately (for us) Virginia is one of the most lenient states when it comes to marriage certificates. We don't have to have blood tests or anything, just some IDs.

Afterwards, we'll drive back to Norfolk so Jube can get to know his new home a little better!

So, those are our plans. Now that I'm actually getting married, I've been noticing lots of things about weddings that are really annoying. First of all, how did the wedding get to be the most important chapter in someone's life? I saw a wedding planner on TV advising couples that "the wedding dress should represent about 10% of the wedding budget. So, if you're going to spend $10,000 on your wedding, your dress should be about $1,000." When did people decide to spend $10,000 on their wedding? That's more than I'm paying for my graduate degree!

Once she found out that I'm getting married, one of the girls I work with told me that she has a little wedding scrapbook where she pastes pictures of dresses and flowers and bridesmaids' gowns that she thinks are pretty. Then she qualified her statement: "Not that I'm getting married anytime soon! I'm nowhere near engaged!" And yet, she already has her "wedding colors" picked out...

One of my college roommates would periodically tell me things about her wedding. "I chose the song that I'll dance with my dad." "I think that it would be cool if I could wear red and carry a white rose." Hmm... I don't think she had a boyfriend...

People seem very surprised to find that I'm not very stressed about the wedding--probably because they don't realize that we're only having family at an inn in The Plains, VA (check the sidebar for which one...)

A New Day

Well, in my now-absent post crowing about our visa, I mentioned that I would give more details. We've gone through a lot of stress to get this baby, so Jube and I feel very relieved right now. We first began the process back in March, when we decided that I really wanted to go back to grad school.

When I came back to the US to attend the graduate recruiting days here at ODU, I mailed everything off to the Vermont processing center. About 2 weeks later, we received a favorable decision from the Department of Homeland Security, and 2 weeks after that we got a letter saying that our case had been forwarded to the Embassy in Paris. Everything was on schedule for an arrival in the US in August or September.

We waited for another month or so, with no word from the Embassy. I had started my summer job in Nice, and Jube had started his vacation, when we received a letter from Homeland Security saying that they had either reversed their decision or reopened our casefile. It didn't explain why or specify whether we still had any chance for the visa. I was pretty upset! I cried and cried, and Jube had to console me (I still feel bad about this; I mean, the visa was for HIM, not for me, and I'm sure he felt just as sad and confused as I did). My mother did lots of research for us, calling immigration lawyers and trying to get in touch with the Department of Homeland Security. We finally discovered (through our own initiative, with no help from the government) that a new law* was signed last year, coming into effect January 1, 2006. DHL had 2 or 3 months to change the forms to comply with this law. Well, they didn't manage to have the forms (which I downloaded electronically) corrected by the time Jube and I applied. Through no fault of our own, we hadn't answered the two (and a half) new burning questions required by the new law. The advice from the immigration lawyers was contradictory and confusing, but one woman gave us a really useful tip: to FAX the Embassy with our questions. Every time we faxed them, we received a phone call or a quicker resolution of our problem. Of course, I can't be sure that this was because of the FAXes, but it felt like it. The Embassy told us we were one of twelve couples in France who were having the visa process delayed because of the new law.

Anyway, Jube finally received the appointment for the visa interview last week. He went to the doctor, who checked him out and found him lacking in one vaccine, quickly administered. The next day he headed to the Embassy, where he was asked a few questions about my family, his family, and Norfolk, and they said he'd receive the visa in the mail in a few days. He has it now, so he can come to the US at any time! Now the question is, one way ticket or round trip? The round trip tickets are apparently much cheaper, but would that be strange for entering the country as an immigrant?

In any case, I am thrilled that he will be able to make it by our planned wedding date (November 5) and I'm trying to be busy finishing up homework before he gets here. I just can't wait to have some company in my little apartment!



*I basically agree with this law, since it is focused on the problem of mail-order brides (anyone remember that CSI episode where the Russian girl was killed by her husband because she wanted to exercise her rights and divorce him? Yeah, this law is against that!).

Social? Tu parles!

Oh MAN! Little did I know that going out on Friday would be an all-night enterprise!

I left my house around 7 with my friend Willie. We went to Kilmer's house, where she had prepared lasagna and salad for us, along with homemade blueberry wine. We had a great dinner and then talked for awhile, lounging around her condo (her roommates were gone, so it was all for us!). After awhile she suggested we go to a local bar, Harry's. (Kilmer has an eye for local dives. The first time we went out with her, for karaoke, she found the seediest bar ever, called the Dockside. It will forever be known as the Darkside--and we need to pay it a visit, soon!) Harry's was full of marines and sailors. Willie did the best he could to protect Kilmer and me from their assault techniques, and was unfortunately followed into the bathroom where a so-called marine asked him to introduce us. Another sailor, Reggie Love (I'm permitting myself the use of the actual name he gave us because I think it was already a pseudonym), bought us a pitcher of beer and told us that the other marine was in the Taliban. Oh, Harry's! What a place!

After Harry's closed, we went to ihop, since Willie was feeling like a midnight (or 2:30am) snack. I think everyone who closed out a bar decided to go too, and we had about a 10 minute wait for our table. After chowing down on French toast and pancakes, we decided to call it a night and went outside to drive home. Unfortunately, Kilmer had parked Willie's car in the Home Depot parking lot, which was patrolled by a "predatory" towing company. We walked across the street to withdraw money and were approached by a "private taxi." Kilmer promptly told him where to shove it, and he left when she threatened to call the police. I had the taxi dispatch number programmed in my phone from my trip to the social security office, and they sent one over right away.

We paid to get Willie's car back, and on the way out Kilmer gave everyone the finger. "Willie," she said, "Just give that guy the bird, okay?"

"Sure," he said wearily, flashing the doit d'honneur at the owner of the company. Right then Kilmer stopped at a stop sign, and Willie begged her to get away before he came after us. Of course, we were the big loser, because we lost about $115 combined on our little trip to the towing company. I finally got home at about 4:30am.

This wouldn't have been too bad, except that my dad was coming to visit me on Saturday! He told me he would arrive about 12 or 1pm, so I dragged myself out of bed at 10am to clean and shower. When he hadn't shown up by 1:30, I called him. "Oh, I'll be leaving within the hour," he told me. Either he was cleverly pretending he had never told me he'd arrive by 1pm, or I'd misunderstood the night before and he'd told me he'd leave by 1pm. It's probably the latter . . .

He finally got to my apartment at 6pm. We headed out right away to the No Frills Bar and Grill where we had some great sandwiches, and then went to the movie theater to see Little Miss Sunshine, which I thoroughly enjoyed. After we had gone to bed, Dad's phone rang at 11:30pm. It woke me up, and I heard him talking in the other room.

"I think you have the wrong number. [pause] Oh, Joey! Well, Joey, are you okay? [pause] Where are you? [pause] Well, all right. Have a good night, Joey." My father is a teacher and a chess coach (for a few elementary schools), and one of his former students decided to get drunk and call him up! Although we felt kind of bad, it was hilarious.

On Sunday morning we went to ihop for breakfast, and then picked up some important items from the hardware store to put together my bed (the frame and headboard have been separate ever since I moved in). We also picked up a new bike from my friend's house and then Dad headed home, leaving me tired, lonely, and with a ton of homework to finish.

Social

I've gone out with my friends for the past few weeks. I went to karaoke one night, to an Irish pub the next, and finally to the "graduate hangout" on Tuesday evening. (I think they call it a graduate hangout because it's on campus and right next to campus security . . . since the undergrads stay away anyway, they're being market savvy.) Then I met with a group to talk about a project last night, and I'm going to another friend's house tonight. I told Jube about all of this over the phone, and he said, "You've been pretty social these days!"

Well I guess I have! I've been especially social if you compare it to our normal routine, which consisted of eating dinner with each other and then watching television, with perhaps one weekend a month spent with Other People. Maybe it's being back on a university campus--there are just more people around who all want to go out, so why not band together? Maybe it's because I don't know anyone in Norfolk, so I have to be proactive about meeting people. Or maybe it's because Jube isn't here. Eating dinner and watching TV becomes kind of sad and lonely when you don't have anyone to cuddle with (or shout at to turn down the guitar).

The reason doesn't really matter, but I'm glad I have things to do outside of homework. I think that would have driven me crazy by now!

5 Years Ago

5 years ago I was a sophomore at Wittenberg University. I woke up 10 minutes before I had to be at my campus job, so I got dressed and hurried to the library, just across the lawn from my dorm. When I arrived, there was a television set up in the library lobby. I didn't really understand what was happening, even when my boss told me, "They hit the Twin Towers--but they haven't fallen down yet! That's American engineering!" About twenty minutes later, they set up a big screen projection in the audiovisual center, and all of the library workers went to watch the news, where we saw what had happened to the pentagon. Then the towers fell.

I still don't think I understood what had happened. I went back to my dorm and tried to call Jube, who was living in Montpellier, but I couldn't get through. All of the international lines were busy.

The day after, all of my professors wanted to talk about it in class. I just wanted to get on with learning Spanish and reading American literature. A quick panel was set up for that Thursday with some political science professors, and it was packed--but didn't explain anything.

I think I finally understood how much the attack affected me--who knew no one there, who only saw a few images on the television, who had been to New York for one weekend--a year later, in France. Belle-maman called me downstairs to watch the television, where they were showing the preview of a documentary filmed by a Frenchman about the attacks. I suddenly began crying and ran upstairs to Jube's room. His family followed, apologizing, telling me "We thought you would want to see it."

When I see all of the made-for-TV movies, the WTC commemorative coins, and the special editions of shows like Extra being filmed at Ground Zero, I don't know how to feel. The immediacy has worn off, but I still don't think that our grief should be exploited for television ratings. So last night I turned the television off after the US Open, which took place in New York and was the best tribute I could think of: continuing our lives with the pursuit of excellence.

TV

When I lived in France, I used to say, "Oh, the television is so much better in America!" I watched my friends' copies of Sex in the City, caught every episode of CSI I could, and hardly ever watched a French series. When I got back to the US, I was excited about watching The Office, after managing to catch a few episodes from a friend's iPod, and seeing all my favorite crime shows in VO (the original language--that would be English).

Well. For all of those American expats still living under the delusion that "American TV is better," I'm here to set you straight. I'm not saying that French television series are better than American series. I didn't watch very many of them, and I didn't exactly like them (except for a few episodes of Les enfants de la tele, which I adored for the outtakes, Star Academy--of course!--Fort Boyard and all of the American reality series with French participants, like The Bachelor). But, I loved watching all of the American network series I'd missed, like CSI, Without a Trace, and Law and Order. All of that, for free!

You might be saying to yourself, "But those are free in the US, too! We have network television!" Hmmm . . . unless you live in the middle of a city and pull out the bunny ears, you don't really get many channels. I know this because I only have three right now (four, counting the infomercial channel), and I live pretty much in the middle of Norfolk. After 2 years in France, and counting on 5 very clear channels that didn't show exclusively soaps in the afternoons, American TV is a big, big shock.

What's more, there are tons and TONS of commercials! When I watch CSI, I'm not used to the 10 or so commercials. In France, there is only one commercial in the middle of the show, and afterwards I got another episode right away, with no break (and that's on TF1!). If I watched Without a Trace, which showed on France 2, there were no commercials at all. Besides that, I learned all kinds of French vocabulary I never would have otherwise, words like "coroner" and "q-tip."

As for the afternoons, in the US, all I can see are soap operas--until they start showing talk shows before the local news. In France, they also showed soap operas, but I could also catch some nature documentaries or interesting cultural programs on France 5. I suppose that PBS also broadcasts shows like that, but I can't tune it in on my television set. Now, I'm not saying that French TV is the best in the world--or even better than American cable (although then you'd have to compare French cable, of course, and I don't have any experience with that). But in the US, our network channels can't compare to the good quality of French reception and the low commercial time.

The worst, though, is that I can't get into my American shows as much, because they sound like they have the wrong voices!

Ho(s)pital

I haven't written much about my job this summer in Nice, because I don't think it is appropriate. I did, however, spend my first night in a hospital, ever. The kids attending the summer program were . . . well, let's say they liked to have your attention. All the time.

So when you get sick and throw up, you think you have appendicitis, and you drag your counselor to the hospital. In the US, if you have appendicitis, they rush you into the operating room and cut that baby right out! In France, as I learned, you are taken under continuous observation for 12 hours. Since we arrived at 3:30pm, that meant we got to spend the night! Oh, yeah. I slept in the room with my charge, since she couldn't speak French very well. I wasn't thrilled about it, but I'm sure it was better than leaving her alone, since we were woken at 1am to get a sonogram and again at 6am for a blood sample... and again at 8am when a whole troupe of doctors and interns walked in to practice their English and diagnosis skills. We slept on the emergency ward, which meant we got to hear a patient moaning all night long. My poor girl was really scared (and I was kind of freaked out, too!) until I heard the nurses arguing with him. He kept asking for methadone, and they kept saying no . . . "and if Monsieur doesn't quiet down, we'll tie him down!" After that we slept well, knowing that the recovering drug addict would be a bit calmer with the nurses watching over him. That night in the hospital cost 900 Euros.

I went to the hospital one other time in July. This time it was more serious, although we didn't spend the night. Another girl had an athsma attack, so we called the ambulance. I rode with her in it, and when we arrived everything had passed. We did have to wait in emergency room admissions, though, and saw a couple of people who had been in a car accident walk by us, bleeding from the head. We spent about three hours at the hospital this time, enough to see a doctor who asked if there was carpet in the dorms where we slept. And--it was totally free, since we only used the ambulance resources!

Although I didn't go to the doctor very often in France, and never to the hospital, I miss the health care. Ahhh well! At least I get cheap dental cleaning from the school of dental hygiene here at ODU!

Labor Day Weekend

I made it safely to my parents' house in Northern Virginia, after taking 6 hours to drive the normal 3 in the pouring rain. But I arrived safely and, while watching Are We There Yet?, manage to eat fondue with my mother and stepfather. Then my mother launched into Planning-the-Wedding mode, and we went to all kinds of stores, looking for invitations, shoes, wraps, jackets, and other things. The best part of Planning the Wedding has been the restaurant where we will eat. We talked to the chef last night and got to eat there, too. Nice!

Oh wait. We haven't heard about the visa yet! This Planning the Wedding session has all been on blind faith! Isn't that fun? I hope that we'll find out soon. Jube is packing and will be moving back to Montpellier this week, and I'll be buckling down on the books. Who knew that they would be so boring? As an English major, I mainly got to read really fun books, and when I wrote my thesis they were all books I chose to read! Now, reading things like "Internationalisation and Globalisation: Study Abroad in the Post-Modern Era," I realize how lucky I was (although that article wasn't too bad). But I have high hopes for the future--when I get to choose what I research! And when Jube gets his visa! I'll let you know whenever I do . . .

Ernesto!!

Before I moved to Norfolk, Jube did lots of research on the city. He still does a lot, and when we talk on the phone, he asks me to "check if those tennis courts by our apartment are free to the public." Actually, he asks me that about once a week... Before I left France, he also asked me about hurricanes. He had heard there were a lot around Norfolk. Now, although I have lived in Ohio for most of my life, I was born in Washington, DC and have visited the area at least twice a year, every year (until I moved to France). To me, "Virginia" meant Northern Virginia, and I told him that hurricanes weren't very strong when they reached Virginia. Sure, there might be a little bit of rain, maybe a power outage or something, but that's it. So when Ernesto changed course and rammed into North Carolina, I thought, "Wow, sucks to live in the Outer Banks!" Then I saw the weather map and realized, "Hey, Norfolk is right next to North Carolina!" Today, ODU is closed. That's pretty cool, because I don't have to work, but it's also very annoying, because I was going to drive up to my parents' house today. So I have to make sure that I won't die because of flash floods on my way up... Wish me luck!

International Nights

Wow, I've been writing a lot of posts recently! It's been awhile since I had the free time and the motivation, I suppose.

Well, this isn't really motivation... it's insomnia. I turned off my lights two hours ago, and just couldn't get to sleep. I could vaguely hear my next-door neighbor, Raj, watching a movie, but it wasn't enough to keep me from sleeping. Anyway, I got up and started using the computer, but in the living room the movie is much louder. I figured it was some loud annoying adventure movie, since I could hear lots of bass and what I thought were explosions. After about half an hour, though, I realized that he was watching a Bollywood flick. Of course this doesn't rule out any explosions, but I was surprised to hear high-pitched warbling coming from the wall as well as big bassy booms.

Good Night, Everyone.

Sealed

As I was walking on campus the other day, I walked past the seal of Old Dominion University set into the path. I carefully avoided walking on it, and immediately caught myself remembering Wittenberg. There, you are taught never to step on the seal. That will make you fail your next test. The only time you are supposed to walk on it is on or after graduation day. I stepped on the seal once my freshman year, ironically while cramming for a biology test. I didn't fail, but I didn't do well either (what do you expect when you start studying on your way to class?). After that, I was a good Wittenberger. Jube, on the other hand, gleefully stomped on the seal whenever we walked by. "I'm not really a Wittenberg student," he would tell me, "and I don't believe in all that superstitious crap anyway."

At Wittenberg, we also have the Kissing Bridge near Graduation Hollow. If you kiss there once, that means you're pretty serious. If you kiss twice, you're going to get married. During nighttime walks you could see lots of couples kissing on the bridge, and at times you had to practically wait in line if you wanted to have a chance. Jube didn't believe in that, either, but look where we are now...

I don't know what traditions Old Dominion has, especially since it's a pretty young university. I did hear some students last night at midnight laughing and talking in a foreign language in the parking lot near my house. Most of the tenants here at my apartment complex are international students, which suits me well. Of the international students, I would say over half of them are Indian, and that's who I saw last night when I looked out of my window. A group of about 15 students, including two girls in saris, circled around one of their friends--the one without any luck, I guess. They threw two dozen eggs at him, and he sat like a pro and took every single one of them, even inviting head shots. When he was finished, he wiped off the goo from his head and smiled for the camcorder that one of the girls had used to film the entire fracas. I had to laugh--I'm back at school again.

Plus ca change...

Hi again everyone! I'll have been in Norfolk for a week at about 4:30 tomorrow afternoon. I've been doing lots of stuff, like finding a graduate assistantship, moving into my house, getting my student ID, and (joy of all joys) getting a replacement social security card.

You see, before I moved to France two years ago, I put my social security card in a safe place so I wouldn't lose it abroad. Unfortunately, I have now forgotten where that safe place was, so I didn't have my card. This wouldn't really be a big deal, except that the guy who takes care of the tax forms in my department is a freak and demands more than the government wants (sound familiar, anyone?). He wouldn't accept my passport, drivers license, and birth certificate, and had no sympathy for my carless state. I had to get a taxi to drive me 20 minutes to the Social Security Office in Norfolk. Both of my taxi drivers took the scenic route, so I got to see lots of pretty houses along the way, and some things that made me smile: the Social Security Office is on Robin Hood Road, and we passed Sherwood Forest Elementary school on the way out there.

When I walked into the office, I had a pleasant feeling towards American bureaucracy, despite my present troubles with the Office of Homeland Security regarding Jube's visa. The kind old police officer at the information desk directed me to the correct room to get a replacement social security card, after having signed a paper and checking my ID. My mood was a bit dampened when I entered the room only to find an almost exact replica of the Prefecture in Nice: rows of seats filled with people, and enough crying babies to rival the foreign affairs office. Now, I know that the Social Security Office has more babies than other bureaucratic places in the US, because they all need to have a number assigned to them, but it's definitely annoying to sit next to a one-year-old who keeps touching your book.

I even got to hear a fight between a young woman and a mother. The young woman had called one of her friends on her cell phone, nearly deafening those around her, screaming about a fight she had had the night before, "and I don't know what the fuck she wanted, but she fucking hit me right in the head. Shit! That bitch don't know what kinda shit she got herself into!" The mother asked her to please use less curse words, but either the young woman didn't hear or didn't care. Finally the security guard had to intervene, and the young woman left before her number was called.

Once that was finished, I went back to finish filling out the papers for my job, where the secretary kept me for about half an hour longer than she had to. Oh well, at least I'm used to waiting now.

Also, when I was in France, I kept thinking about how flirtatious the men were. For example, when I went parasailing, I didn't have my swimsuit. The employee said, "No problem, you can borrow mine," with a big grin at his baggies. Well, I have discovered that in the American South, it's pretty similar. Today I had a man compliment my skirt while I was at an ATM; the employee taking my picture for my student ID said, "It'll be great, you're pretty!"; and at the Social Security Office, as I moved past people to find an empty seat, one of the men said, "I know you ain't that fat!" Luckily, after two years in France, it doesn't faze me at all.

So those are my impressions of the US so far. It's different than I remember it, but maybe that's just because I've absorbed other customs in France. I felt really uncomfortable, for example, when the bagger bagged my groceries for me and then helped me take them outside. On the other hand, everyone is super nice, like my teller at the credit union who found out about my wedding and told me about her 13-year-old daughter while I was opening my new accounts. I felt strange that she was sharing so much personal information, and I had to tell myself that it's just like that in America!