Labor Day

On Labor Day Weekend, Jube and I had set up a busy schedule: Planet Arlington World Music Festival on Saturday, Picnic on the Mall on Sunday, family barbecue on Monday. Only Saturday and Monday succeeded, and all because I am a big idiot.

We were on the Metro, heading to Capitol South, when Jube realized that we were going the wrong way. We got out and started heading toward the escalators that connect the two directions. As we started up the moving stairs, Jube heard the train arriving on the other side.

"Hurry!" he told me, "We can still catch it!"

I had my doubts, but I still ran up the escalator. Or at least, I tried to run up. My flip flop caught one of the steps and I fell heavily on my left leg, bruising my knee and scraping my ankle. Because I am a cruel person and I wanted Jube to hurt as much as I did, I snapped, "Why did you make me run?" Tears had sprung to my eyes and I limped off of the escalator. It really really hurt! I've never felt as much pain in my life (well, maybe I have, but I certainly don't remember it feeling that bad!).

As I rode the other side's escalator down, I felt moisture on my leg. I looked at it and saw blood trickling past the bottom of my cropped pants. Strangely, I hadn't noticed any cuts, just a feeling of bruising around my knee. When I pulled up my pants leg, I almost fainted. Blood caked my knee and continued down my leg. In my bag, I had nothing to staunch the flow; no napkins, not even any receipts.

I started feeling nauseated and faint, so I sent Jube back up the killer escalator to find a station manager while I sat on the floor next to one of the concrete barriers, whimpering to myself and swabbing at the blood with my now-stained pants. Jube couldn't find any help, so we decided to head home. (For some reason, I'd thought that I could still make it to the picnic if only the station manager had been there with a first aid kit!) Of course, by this time we were about half an hour away from home and I would have to limp through the Labor Day Weekend crowds with a bloody pair of pants, but we couldn't help that.

I managed to keep from puking or fainting until we got home, where I cleaned up my wound and gently placed myself on the sofa. And then, since we had managed to miss our vegan picnic gathering, I turned to my husband and moaned, "Jube... could you get me a big hamburger from Wendy's please?"

I think I deserved it.

The Geeks Unite!

On Sunday, Jube and I went to the Maryland Renaissance* Festival. I've been to the Ren Fest in Ohio, and I always had a good time. Jube has been to Medieval Festivals in France, as well as a Breton Celtic music festival, so he's (sort of) been exposed to the Ren Fest mentality. However, I don't think he realized that most of the Ren Festers were also D&Ders, WoWers, Trekkies, Goths, etc. There was even someone dressed up as Farm Boy/the Dread Pirate Roberts (complete with ROUS)... but I don't think Jube recognized him.

Throughout the day, Festival-goers were making strange hand signs at Jube, saying strange things to him, or otherwise winking at him. He didn't get it until someone walking by said, "Wow!" in an admiring voice. He looked around, confused, and then he looked down at his shirt. It said "WOW! Week of Welcome 2007, Old Dominion University." Of course, the "Week of Welcome 2007, ODU" was in much much smaller print, leading everyone to believe that Jube actually knows what the acronym MMORPG stands for... or something. He should just have worn a Metallica shirt - at least then they would know what kind of geek he really is.


*I love speaking French. Before living in France and learning the language, I could never spell Renaissance correctly! It also helped with the word medieval. But not annihilate...

Sorties in Montpellier

Although I would love to write day-by-day posts of our outings to Montpellier, I figured I should really just put them all in one post. That way I won't forget anything! I love visiting my Beaux-Parents, and they are very kind to have us, saving us all kinds of money by making us our favorite foods, giving us free unlimited internet access, a bed to sleep in, and almost-daily laundry service. The only thing I don't like is how far away from Montpellier their town, Gallargues le Montueux, is! We have to drive for about twenty minutes on the highway (which costs something like 1€20) or take the "Route de la Mer," which (while following alongside the picturesque étangs) takes more like 45 minutes. Hey, I guess I should be happy they don't still live in Mende!

Trip 1: Okay, okay. Back to business. As you might imagine, I take any and every excuse to visit Montpellier. Two weeks ago on Monday, my excuse was: we'll check all of the video game stores in the Polygone and in Montpellier centre ville for the right version of the Xbox 360; afterwards we'll walk around the écusson, have kebabs, and then watch the France-Italy Euro 2008 game on the giant screen set up on the Place de la Comédie. We did all of this, and I took my traditional "pilgrimage" (as Belle-Maman calls it) to my favorite places in the city. Actually I was only able to do about half of the visiting I wanted, because les frangins (Jube and Le Pacha) were too tired to walk all the way to le Peyrou. So I visited St. Roch, Ste. Anne, la Rue de l'Ancien Courrier, and, between St. Guilhem and Ste. Anne, a tiny little dead-end street called Impasse Brun. This is where Jube and I had our first apartment, which we only lived in for a month while I attended French classes at the university. We borrowed it from one of his friends who was spending the summer in Ireland.

Afterwards, the food: kebabs, fries, sodas; then McFlurrys from MacDo. And then we sat down near the giant screen to watch the match. This was actually pretty fun to begin with; there were some Italian supporters who stood up and sang their national anthem to much heckling and throwing of non-lethal objects (like cigarette butts). Afterwards the rest of the crowd stood and roared out the Marseillaise (with much emphasis on Aux armes, citoyens!). Sadly, the World Cup Final rematch was not as exciting, with France losing 2-0. The crowd moped away dejectedly after it was over, and we went with them.

Trip 2: Jube and I visited the newly-reopened Musée Fabre, which at the moment has a special exhibit of Courbet. I was unfamiliar with the artist before going, but I really enjoyed the exhibition. He even painted the Roman bridge on the Vidourle that is about 10 minutes away from Gallargues, which I have visited many times (check out his route through Hérault here). That was really cool!

Trip 3: Jube and I were planning on spending all afternoon in Montpellier, but at the last second we decided just to go for a little visit and take le Pacha along with us. I decided that I wanted to see le Peyrou and the Cathedral, but fate was against us: as we moved uphill, we started hearing popping noises and shouting. We had run into a protest from the local wine producers! At first I was really annoyed, because I had wanted to see les Arceaux... but soon I realized that a protest was just as fun.
We were very close, but just as we started moving closer, the CRS (riot police) shot some tear gas canisters into the air, and all of the onlookers turned and ran. Funnily enough, it looks like blogger Joy Suzanne and I just missed each other!

Trip 4 (aka sortie en amoureux): Jube and I get to spend a long, lazy afternoon in Montpellier. After visiting the gift shop of the Musée Fabre, we had a little drink at one of my favorite squares in the city, la Place St. Ravy. I had a pamplemousse pressé and Jube had a menthe à l'eau.
Afterwards we finally made it to le Peyrou, and then headed down to the Jardin des Plantes for a little relaxation. We met a cute little cat there:
And then we went up to the Place de la Canourgue for dinner. We had a great time, and I ended with a "café gourmand" that looked like this:
That's a little tart, a cup of panacotta, and a "mint chocolate bomb." Yum!

Nîmes Encore

A couple of days after the concert, Jube and I headed back to Nîmes, this time during the day. We stopped by Carrefour to see if they had an Xbox 360 for Le Pacha, but they didn't have the right one. Afterwards, we headed into town to walk around for a bit.

We saw les Arènes, as usual, and then went to the mall (fnac for Jube and Zara for me). We visited the Maison Carrée, but half of it is covered in scaffolding. It is being cleaned, and when that's finished, it's going to be really beautiful... but for the moment, it just looks sad. I had hopes of having a drink at the terrace restaurant of the Carré d'Art next to the Maison Carrée... We've never been inside, but the Carré d'Art is a museum of modern art. It was inspired by the Roman temple of the Maison Carrée, but is very modern architecture - think lots of glass, metal, and decorative pipes. Belle-Maman hates it, but I think it's kind of neat!

Anyway, since we couldn't go in there (because the whole point was sitting where there is a good view of the Maison Carrée which is now covered in scaffolding and advertisements), I had the idea of going to les Jardins de la Fontaine for a drink! I really like the walk there. It goes by a calm canal lined with sycamores, which are reflected very green. Les Jardins include an old Roman library (called the Temple of Diana, for some reason!) and lots of 19th Century landscaping... pretty canals, little pleasure gardens, lots of staircases. This time, Jube and I climbed up the hill that usually serves as a background for les Jardins. It reminded me a bit of Barcelona's Park Güell in the way it just kept going! We climbed for awhile, and I started getting tired - remember, all I wanted was a drink at an outdoor café so we could relax for a bit! I was wearing a skirt and sandals, and we kept passing people dressed for hiking - or rather, they kept passing us.

But then we made it to the top, where we found la Tour Magne. I was surprised to have found a part of Nîmes I didn't know! We paid €5 to get inside, and then started the grueling process of climbing about a thousand tiny stairs to get to the lookout at the top. I almost passed out on the way, but we finally made it! The view was gorgeous - we could practically see all the way back to Gallargues! We saw all of Nîmes from above. I was amazed! I'd never even heard of the Tour Magne!

Then we made our way back down to sealevel where I finally got to have my drink! Jube chose an apple juice and I had a diabolo fraise (which is just a fancy way of saying a Shirley Temple). We relaxed in the cool of the shade, watching little kids play in the puddles. And then we went back to Gallargues, where that evening I had a horrible headache (probably from climbing a million feet in the sun without drinking any water).

It was a wonderful day, and I only regret not bringing my camera - I thought that I'd seen everything there was to see in Nîmes, and I was wrong!

Concert!

Okay, enough suspense: Jube and I did make it to the Radiohead concert! Before going, Belle-maman gave us the latest edition of the local paper, the Midi Libre, which talked about the band and gave a quick review of their show. It sounded really dull, actually, with fluorescent lights and "energy-saving" measures. That didn't really bug me, but since Jube isn't a fan (heresy, I know, but what can I do about it?) he was worried it would be boring.

It wasn't! He even admitted that the band was "tight" and "sounded professional," that Thom sang "in tune" and that he was "glad to have gone." Those are high words of praise from my husband, I tell you what! Here's a YouTube video of the concert taken from about the same vantage point as where we were standing.



Of course, I couldn't see as well as this camera, which is being held somewhere above our heads... I don't think I'm super short, and I don't have any complex about my height or anything, but I did find myself wishing I were taller...

Here is a shot from before the concert... this is actually from the night before, but it gives a good idea of how it feels to be in the Arènes de Nîmes, waiting for the show to start.



(Jube and I were down on the ground.)

My favorite songs of the night were: Just, Paranoid Android, Reckoner, 15 Steps, and, of course, Idiotheque, which was the big closer.

I don't think there can ever be a perfect night. At the concert at Shepherds Bush, when I saw Radiohead in London, one fan who'd slept all night on the pavement outside turned around with a nasty "Shhht!" while I was singing along with the music... In Nîmes, I didn't get close enough to the stage and probably bugged the hell out of the people around me by dancing to most of the songs. I also whacked someone's camera while dancing to the end of Paranoid Android... I haven't seen it on YouTube, but if you happen to see a video where the camera is nearly bashed to pieces during the last instrumental bit, I'm probably the cause.

Anyway, we had a great time, found a free parking space, and got home safely, so all in all I'd say it was a good night.

V. I. freakin' P.!

Last Wednesday I got an e-mail from my friend Kilmer saying she'd gotten free tickets to see Margaret Cho at the NORVA (a small concert venue in downtown Norfolk). Did I want to go?

Heck yeah! Jube and I had seen Margaret Cho last year for free at ODU, but I had a feeling she'd softened her act a little bit. Plus I'd never been in the NORVA before, and I've wanted to check it out for awhile (ever since my boss told me it was awesome).

After I said "yes," Kilmer told me that she'd received her free tickets from her old internship coordinator, and that we were going to be VIPs for the night. Awesome!

The show started at 10:15, and at 9:45 there was a line stretching down Monticello Avenue for about 50 feet. Kilmer and I bypassed the plebeians, heading straight for the Members Only stand. We were carded and given 2 wristbands: one to say that we were over 21, the other to show that we were "Members," and allowed to go in the Members Only Bar. Oh yeah, we were rockin'. We walked upstairs where we thought we'd found the Members Only Bar. But really, that was just the upstairs bar. The Members Only Bar is through some double doors with handles shaped like guitars. Once inside, we found a bar with a barmaid who seemed to know everyone (but us), a small lounge area, and a closed-circuit TV where we could watch the show on sofas if we wanted. Instead we just got some drinks and then headed back outside when we could hear amplified voices.

The Members Only section is made up of a balcony that gives a much better view of the acts. We sat about 10 feet away from the comics. Most of the audience was made up of die-hard fans. They screamed, laughed, shouted, and contributed to the performance. Directly across from us, on the Members Only balcony, was a group of three or four gay men who squealed every time Margaret said "queer."

The show was hilarious, and even though Kilmer and I weren't able to get backstage passes like we thought (we are unfamiliar with the term VIP as it relates to ourselves), we were lucky enough to have a place to keep our coats safe while we watched.

The Zoo and the Aquarium

You may remember that on Christmas day, when le Parisien was in town, we tried to go to the new aquarium in Montpellier, "Mare Nostrum." Unfortunately they hadn't published the right holiday schedule and it was closed. Finally we all headed back one day to check it out.

When we got there, the line stretched across the parking lot. Parents yelled at kids who ran away, heading toward the streetcar tracks or the movie theater. Le Pacha wanted to brave it out, but the rest of us decided that it would be too annoying to wait for over an hour to get in. Instead, we went to the Zoo, with its new greenhouse/Amazonian rainforest exhibit.

This was a great choice, since there were about two people ahead of us in line and it was a lot cheaper than the aquarium. It was warm in the greenhouse and there were plenty of interesting animals. Afterwards we watched the lemurs fight over their food before going back to the car.

We decided to check the aquarium one more time before going home. Since we arrived around lunchtime, the line was cut in half. We waited for half an hour or so, our stomachs grumbling, and then explored the aquarium. It was very nice, complete with penguins, sharks, and a little girl who wiped her nose on Belle-Maman's hand.

Afterwards we went to the nearby China buffet, making le Pacha's day complete.

La Maison de la Lozère

One of the most amazing gifts that Jube and I received was lunch for two at la Maison de la Lozere. Jube and I have been to some nice restaurants, but we aren't usually able to afford the really really nice ones. (One exception, of course, was the Manor House Restaurant where we had our wedding!) I was getting over my cold and Jube had just caught a watered-down version, but we were both able to smell, taste, and see. We were in for a treat!

We both ordered kir royal for our aperitif, which came with two plates of mises-en-bouche. The first plate was a savory trio shaped like desserts. They were: one cream puff with a vodka cream filling (chou a la creme a la vodka), a dark chocolate bonbon with leek filling, and a little hard-candy shaped mozzarella treat with poppy seeds and herbs. The three were served on an inch-thick rectangle of Plexiglas. The second plate of mises-en-bouche was a bit more substantial, including one salmon sushi and one carrot gelee. They were both very tasty!

By this time, though, Jube had begun to worry that we were only going to be getting tiny portions for lunch. Our first course proved him wrong. It was a marinated tuna steak served on top of a citrus gelee, with a small salad on the side, a candy-like rectangle of seaweed, and an "emulsion d'eau de mer" (a small amount of what looked and tasted like sea foam). The food was wonderful, and I was getting excited about our main course.

Jube chose hare, which was served wrapped in ham. His sides included a "croustillant de tete de veau" (a 3-d rectangle of fried meaty goodness) and a poached egg. I chose the fish, which was served with a sweet corn mousse and tempura-fried leeks.

At la Maison de la Lozere, every main dish is served with aligot. Aligot is a mixture of cheese (tomme de Lozere) and mashed potatoes. It is the regional dish of Lozere. (We actually made it once, and you can see the picture here.) Jube happened to grow up in the region, and he was used to eating aligot made by the peasants of Lozere: in a big pot with a huge wooden spoon. When the aligot would stick to the spoon, the peasant (probably smoking a cigarette with dirt under his nails) would push the aligot back down into the main mixture. It would be served by slapping the aligot into the bowl or plate that was offered.

It is served a bit differently at la Maison de la Lozere. The waiter or waitress picks up a serving of aligot held between two spoons. He or she then twists the aligot into pretty patterns while placing it into our single-serving bowls. Jube and I were both reminded of a Japanese steakhouse where preparing the food is as much fun as eating it. The aligot filled up any holes we might have had from small portions, and we were offered more (and we both declined).

For dessert, Jube had a plum crumble (mirabelles) and I chose a small turnover filled with bananas and mangoes. Both were served with sorbet, and mine was served with a sweet avocado puree. (In fact, the avocado puree was part of the reason I chose my dessert. In Nice I fell in love with the avocado ice cream sold at several of the artisanal ice cream stands. I have to say that the avocado puree was almost better!)

Afterwards our waiter offered us coffee, but neither of us took it. Mistake! I thought that our lunch was over, but how could I forget that sweets often come with the after-dinner coffee in France? Luckily, we were still able to eat the after-dessert dessert. It included a small glass of chocolate ganache, one coffee-flavored macaron, and one white-chocolate truffle. The macaron and the truffle were served impaled on sticks that protruded from another inch-thick slab of Plexiglas.

The food was wonderful, and I only wish that someday I can go back - and get coffee!

(Yes, I know there are no pictures! Jube and I were too embarrassed to get out our big digital camera. Rest assured: the food was beautiful, as was the restaurant. It is located in one of the medieval buildings in Montpellier, with vaulting stone ceilings and a view on a private terrace.)

What a Beach.

Today we went to the beach, which was a nice way to spend the hot afternoon. Afterwards we went to Kilmer's house for burgers, and then we went out for ice cream. While we were waiting in line, Kilmer told us a story about seeing a stop sign that had been vandalized to say "Stop Gay Marriage."

"I mean, I think that gay marriage should be legal, and I think that it's really stupid to have vandalized a sign like that, but it was kind of funny," she said.

Behind us, a woman put her hands over her son's ears.

"Just go ahead and advertise how bigoted you are!" Kilmer continued, when the woman behind us interrupted.

"Excuse me, Ma'am, but could you not say things like that? I mean, my son will just start asking questions about what he hears." The woman's face was red.

"Oh, uhh, sure," said Kilmer. At that moment, our ice cream arrived. As we walked away, she turned to us and whispered, "what did I say? I didn't think I used any cuss words!"

We rolled our eyes. "It must have been the words 'gay marriage,'" Jube said.

"Oh man!" said Kilmer, "I thought it must have been the word 'bigot,' because then she'd have to explain to her kid exactly what his mommy is!"

Is That Legal?

I'm writing this post from Kilmer's house. We're making wine! Jube was worried that it was illegal, but we reassured him that it was fine. We added sugar to the grape juice, and he was shocked!

"We don't add sugar to the grapes in France! That's really illegal!" he said.

"What??" Kilmer made a face. "The French have no idea how to make wine, I guess. I mean, you stomp around on the grapes in your bare feet--nasty!"

"Ha, ha, ha. We actually make the best wine in the world!" sniffed Jube.

"Pffffft! Like I'm gonna believe that!"

Colonial Times

Last week two of Jube's friends came to visit from Ohio. It's always lots of fun to have friends visit, for a couple of reasons:

First, you get to spend time with your buds! When BB visited us in Nice last year, I got a chance to show off my favorite parts of the city and share everything with one of my bestest friends. This past week we had a great time with some Ohio friends--we'd seen them when we went to Columbus during winter break, but it was fun to have them at our house. We took them to my favorite smoothie place and our favorite seafood place and our favorite Irish pub.

Second, you get to visit parts of your region you'd never seen before. In our case, we went to Colonial Williamsburg. It is a bit pricy to get in ($36 for a day pass) but it was really really fun. We got to hear speeches by George Washington and Benedict Arnold. Our friend Nikos, who is in law school, enjoyed the colonial courthouse, where the guide explained the difference between lots of different crimes and punishments. We also got to see a blacksmith making nails and a military exposition.

The weather was really wonderful, and we were able to fool the Ohio boys into thinking that the weather in Norfolk is balmy year-round. The day after they left the temperatures plunged 30 degrees (from 80 to 50), but they figured that it was just because they had gone back to Ohio.

Visitors

We have a couple of Ohio visitors in town this week, and we've been doing some fun stuff. The other day we all toured the U.S.S. Wisconsin, a battleship commissioned during World War II that is now part of the Nauticus museum in downtown Norfolk. The ship is free to tour, and there are veterans stationed at different parts of the ship who are happy to explain the lingo, the gear, and the firepower of the ship. The museum, which includes an aquarium, isn't free, but there is a little area after exiting the ship that shows Navy history throughout American history. We walked around, checking everything out, reading about battles and looking at propaganda posters.

As we were leaving, three little kids ran in, two boys and a girl. The boys started looking at all of the models, but the girl called to them, "Don't go in!"

"Why not?" asked one of the other boys.

"If we go in, the adults will come after us, and they take so long! They have to read everything!"

I realized then that I have crossed into the land of adulthood.

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.

a little taste of vacation

Since Jube and I both have Thursday off, we headed out to our favorite réunionnais restaurant, L'Arum. We ate really good food, and had unexpectedly strong rum-based drinks for the apéritif (un ti' lapéro de la Réunion, anybody?). We stuffed ourselves until our stomachs protruded a bit, and when we quieted down for digestion, we could overhear the conversation at the table to my left.

"No, silly, it only works if x is variable here!" said the woman.

"But I don't get it, if we have to subtract 12%, how do you come up with 5 kilos as y?" said the man.

Laughing, the woman replied, "Well, you take 10 kilos, and then..."

Jube and I looked at each other and tried to disguise our amusement by talking in English.

When we left the restaurant, we started the walk to the car. On the way, we passed lots of teenagers out for the night. We crossed the street and saw a man calling up to a friend's apartment. "Shhhhhhhh! Fred! SHHHHHHHHH!" I thought it was kind of weird that he was trying to get Fred's attention by shushing him out on the street, but when I lived in Spain I discovered that to get a Spaniard's attention on the street, you have to hiss--"psssst!" So maybe this was the French version, I thought.

I was proved wrong, though. As we passed by, the man turned to us and asked Jube, "Excusez-moi, but do you know how to whistle?"

I struggled to keep a straight face as Jube showed off his whistling skills, which really are not the right kind for getting someone's attention--just for whistling songs. The man smiled and thanked us, anyway. When we reached the car, we heard a piercing wolf whistle. He must have finally found the right person.

Weekend Dining

Our weekend went very well, after a shaky start. I finish relatively late on Fridays, but my last student had to leave 45 minutes early, so I missed a lot of rush hour and got home in time to help Jube clean the apartment. Then, as I began to make our samosa, I realized that he had only bought 10 feuilles de brick, or thin springroll covers. I jumped in the car and drove to the nearest Asian food store, getting out 5 minutes before they closed. Then I ran to another supermarket and bought bread and orange juice before racing back home, hoping that our guests hadn't yet arrived. Very luckily, they hadn't, since Jube had forgotten to put away the mop and bucket, which were still occupying the middle of the floor. I hurriedly filled the feuilles de brick while Jube made the chicken. As soon as I finished the last samosa, we heard a car honk outside. Jube went to check that it was our company arriving, and ushered them into our backyard. The weather was very nice and warm, so we were even able to eat outside (the first time this year!).

We talked about lots of different things, many having to do with high school gossip, since over half of us work at the same high school. We also found out about les Couilleres, a very strange and absurd club that revolves around pairs (or trios, or groups) of spoons. Jube took out my American table- and teaspoons, and the Couilleres were amazed and took plenty of pictures. Everyone was dutifully impressed by our samosa, balti chicken, and fruit salad.

On Saturday, the weather was gray and rainy. We went to the supermarket to buy food for the rest of the week, and to the English/American library for new books. When we got home, le Pacha had called us 6 times. The first message was very calm and collected: "Jube, please call me when you get home. I hope everything is well with you." The second message was a bit more harried: "Be sure to call me as soon as you get home!" The third message was completely off the wall: "I need you to call! Where are you? I need to talk to you, Jube!" The last 3 messages were just quick calls to make sure we weren't home; our message service lets us know which numbers call us, and when. When we hung up the telephone to call le Pacha, the phone rang. "Hi Gem. How are you? Fine? Good. Is Jube there?" I passed him the phone. Le Pacha couldn't save his game on the PS2, and hoped (was certain, in fact) that Jube could help him. Unfortunately we don't know anything about memory cards or PlayStations, so he was disappointed.

Today we woke up late and were invited at the last minute to picnic on the beach with the same group who had eaten at our house on Friday. We went with another batch of samosa and ate fougasse, quiche, and olives on the pebbles of the beach. We left early because Jube had (still has) a lot of papers to grade. I have to get up early tomorrow, so I'm happy for the relaxing afternoon at home, too.

It's Thursday Already!

I think going back to work after a vacation is way harder than going to work the week before vacation. I have been out of the working rhythm all week long, and a little bit sick, too!

On Tuesday night, Jube and I went into town to check out the final night of Carnaval. The King is burned (don't worry, it's a float) and there is a fireworks display. Now, I consider myself a pretty experienced fireworks-watcher, since I've seen "Red, White, and Boom" in Columbus, Ohio; the fireworks on the Mall in Washington, DC; and most spectacularly, the amazing fireworks of Las Fallas in Valencia, Spain. The fireworks for the end of Nice's Carnaval couldn't compare with the amazing displays in Valencia, but they were much better than, say, the fireworks for the 4th of July in Delaware, Ohio. Let me tell you how it went down:

I arrived home a bit late from work because a lot of roads were closed (since there was the Carnaval!). As soon as I walked in the door, we headed out again. We walked along the beach and listened to the music. Then we tried to find a place to watch the fireworks. Unfortunately, the Promenade des Anglais was chock full of people, right up to the barrier above the beach. Luckily we found a way DOWN to the beach, and then we pushed our way right up to the best vantage point. First, they burned the King of the Carnaval out on the water. I have some pictures of it, but it looks really bad, so I'm not posting them. Here are my (pretty crappy but better than the pics of the burning King) pictures of the fireworks.



I like the reflections in the water.

This is the very end. There were tons of these gold fireworks. You should click on this one to make it bigger; that way you can see the two boats that shot off the fireworks.

Vacation Recap

Our week in Gallargues went really well. On Wednesday, Jube, Belle-maman and I all went to Arles. The day was kind of gray and rainy, but we had a good time wandering the streets. Also, the Arles museum was free for the day, so we got to check it out.

On Thursday, we went to Nîmes to meet some of Jube's friends, Herbé and Caro. They are a couple of music teachers who Jube met when he was completing is first year of stage in Alès. They have decided to get married this summer, and so they had come to Nîmes to de-PACS. PACSing is basically a civil union. Homosexuals can enter into a PACS, as can heterosexuals. It provides some of the rights of marriage, notably (in teachers' cases) benefits on where civil servants are placed throughout France. Herbé and Caro had PACSed a few years ago so they could both work in Alès; Jube and I PACSed in December 2004 so he wouldn't have to move to Paris (and I wouldn't have to move back to the US). Herbé told us that it was really funny when they went to de-PACS; both of them were smiling and holding hands, and the civil servant in charge told them that they didn't have to de-PACS since their marriage would automatically cancel it. But since they had driven for an hour, she did it anyway.

Jube and Herbé originally bonded because of their love of guitars. In fact, Herbé saved up his salary for two years to have a guitar made especially for him. It cost him €3,600 (check it out here and here). After having a quick drink in a café, we all went to a guitar store. Caro and I chatted about her wedding plans while Jube and Herbé drooled over the instruments. Let's just say that when we entered the store, it was light outside, and when we left, it wasn't. Luckily that means that I can drag Jube to the mall with me whenever I want and I won't have to feel guilty.

Afterwards we went to Montpellier to have dinner with another couple of Jube's friends. These are friends that he's had since he was about 6 years old and they all lived in Mende. I've always had a hard time enjoying our dinners with them. This is because when I first met them, I couldn't speak any French at all; and then, even when I could speak some French, I discovered that half of the time they talk about "the good old days" when they harassed their German teacher or wrecked a friend's motorcycle and lied about it. Last night was really great, though, because we talked more about the present instead of the past (although there was an involved conversation about the new stores opening up in Mende).

All in all, we had a really great vacation, although I'm still not ready to go back to work tomorrow!

Recap!

Since my last post, Jube and I have par-tayed! It's Carnaval time all around the world, and both Nice and Menton have their own celebrations. Here in Nice, it's more traditional, with parades during the day and at night. In the afternoon, the parades have floats that are decorated with flowers, for les batailles des fleurs. The floats throw mimosas to the spectators for the whole of the parade, and then at the end, rip nicer flowers off of their floats and throw them to the crowd. Of course, just to have standing places for this parade, you have to pay €10! Jube and I paid for the opening of the carnaval, because we had never done it before, but we haven't yet seen the nighttime parades. (Check out fraise's different posts for some pics, commentary, and videos about the celebrations at night.) You can see a picture of the bouquet I gathered above. It's so big and beautiful because I screamned and begged the performers on their floats to throw the flowers to ME ME ME, and then I snatched them out of the air just in front of old grannies and little kids getting flowers for their grannies. But my bouquet is gorgeous, don't you think? Especially the glittery lettuce...



On Sunday we went to Menton, where there is a Lemon Festival. There are huge gardens with different scenes made of lemons and oranges. The theme this year is "Brazil," which is why you can see a representation of the giant Brazilian Jesus made almost entirely of citrus fruit. It was really fun to see all of the things they came up with, including a plantation-like house with jazz players outside that represented New Orleans, and a bridge with a gondola in a lemon-colored river that represented Venice. (Secondary theme: Mardi Gras celebrations from around the world.) After viewing the gardens, we watched Menton's parade.



Here, they threw oranges, not flowers, which was rather dangerous if you didn't know one was heading for your head. (I got two because I shamelessly flirted with the orange thrower boys--see above for the leader of the pack.) This parade was really fun, especially because there were no barracades separating you from the performers. The kids all had cans of silly string that they used to spray the floats and the spectators (Jube hid behind me a lot because he had worn his leather jacket and didn't want it to be ruined.) We had a really good time at this parade, although we probably wouldn't do it again because it was so expensive (€14 for entrance into the gardens + parade viewing!). The only downside was that we parked really far away to save more money, but at least we had some exercise.

Finally, as you may remember, yesterday was Valentine's Day. I had to work until 7:45pm, and then there was a backup on the direct line into the city, so I didn't get home until 8:30 or so. Luckily the restaurant we had scoped out earlier served until 11:30pm, so when we got there at 9:30 it was still hopping. It was a Mexican restaurant! I love Mexican food, and it's pretty hard to find in France. In Montpellier, there was only one real Mexican restaurant; in Nice, there are probably about four. The food isn't very different at these restaurants from what you can find in the US; the big difference is the price. I paid €14 for my big plate of flautas, and Jube paid €17.50 for his fajitas. When we had finished our food, I was looking forward to a gooey plate of refried ice cream or something like that, but Jube told me that it was too expensive. I tried to resign myself to the no-dessert ultimatum, and we drove home. Once we got back, Jube opened up the fridge, and there they were--two little cakes from Canet! They were good, too. What a nice present! (Sorry, no pic this time--they were scarfed down very quickly.)

I like cheese

We are going to attempt a day of skiing again tomorrow. We'll see how it works out . . .

Because we're heading to the mountains tomorrow, we went out yesterday afternoon to buy mittens and gloves, and also to inflate the tires of our car to the correct pressure. We left the house around 4:30pm and got back at 7:45pm. When we checked the messages, we realized that we'd received two from one of Jube's coworkers. "I knew we shouldn't have gone out so late!" he stormed, "now we missed the invitation and I have to call her back!"

Why is that such a problem? you may be thinking (that's what I was thinking, anyway!). Well, Jube didn't want to tell her that we had purposely gone to the store and hadn't waited around at home for her call to invite us to dinner. (In fact, she'd invited him yesterday, but hadn't specified whether it was a dinner or just an apéritif or the time it started.) What's more, we hadn't even bought any wine! Luckily the phone call was just fine, and although we were the last to arrive, it was still within the realms of socially accepted lateness. Even better, they live right next to the Carrefour in town, so we were able to swing by and grab some wine (red and muscat) before we got to their house.

The evening was very relaxed and fun. We ate shrimp and mayonnaise as the first course, which our hostess had bought at Carrefour. I'm still a bit surprised every time I have to pull the big ugly head off of a shrimp in order to eat it, but they were definitely tasty. Then we started in on the main course, chicken and potatoes. Our hostess announced to us that she never cooks, and we were definitely eating Carrefour roasted chicken with frozen potatoes. She told us a funny story about how she had told her boyfriend to go grab some potatoes, and he came back with real ones. She yelled at him and he had to run to the frozen foods section to bring back some just au'four potatoes from McCain. Then we had salad and cheese, and I managed to amaze the entire table by admitting that yes, I am American, and yes, I like fromage fort (stinky cheese). Afterwards we had dessert, coffee, and tea, and we all hung around at the table talking until 1:15am. Then Jube and I went home because we had originally planned to go skiing today--but we decided that waking up at 7:00am was not a good idea.

Today we went into town around noon and ate lunch at "the only authentic Japanese restaurant in Nice." It was delicious! I think we will definitely go back again. Tonight is going to be more relaxed, and we'll go to bed early to be out on the slopes by 9:00am tomorrow. Hopefully I'll have some gorgeous photos of the Alps to share, but until then, wish us luck that there is no Rally!

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 . . .