This may not seem that impressive but I tried valiantly to do laundry on Wednesday and failed through no fault of my own. I put my things in the laundry machine downstairs, soap and everything, including my sheets and towel. So I came back 40 minutes later and the machines were off. So I went and asked in the office. The maintenance guy came and showed me how he tried to flip the fuse switch and it did nothing, as though that was the end of the conversation and all that he could possibly do about it. He told the secretary to reimburse me my 3 euros. The thing is I didn’t really give a crap about the 3 euros, it was the fact that my laundry (sheets, towel, etc.) was sitting in a pool of soapy water. So I dragged it out, wrung it out, and then guess what got to carry it wet (HEAVY) up four flights of stairs because they haven’t yet fixed the elevator either. I think these people live under the illusion that everyone in this building is French and goes home every weekend so they don’t care what condition they live in here. So they don’t give a real crap about fixing things. (The laundry machines get switched off and stop working all the time, this is just the first time that it happened while my stuff is in there.) Unfortunately there’s about 30 Erasmus kids and then us other random fer’ners hanging about who don’t have extra sets of sheets and towels and mom and dad a half hour away.

End of rant. So far the laundry machine didn’t go out on me so fingers are crossed for the dryer now.

Not that this place is in bad condition, really. I mean my kitchen works and everything. But I certainly think the people downstairs could take their jobs more seriously. My room smells like mildew now because of all the laundry hanging everywhere not drying.

My job on the other hand is going well. I got the third-year students for the first time this week and they’re pretty friendly. More names to learn. SO many Paulines, Damiens, Juliens, Thibaults, and C?©c??le/C?©lines. Surprisingly, very few Marions.

So as soon as my laundry gets done drying (knock on wood) I’m going to go out and shop for some Christmas presents and whatnot. The sun looks like it’s maybe sort of peeking out today which is all the excuse I need.

Final complaint: Dad says I got a letter from UT asking me to prove that my current job is temporary so that they can classify me as a Texas resident. This means they want a letter from my employer certifying that my job is temporary. This irritates me: 1) because EVERY foreign job in France is temporary and it’s the bane of many people’s existence 2) because my employers, um, DON’T SPEAK ENGLISH. And I’m fairly certain the people at UT don’t speak French. So I think I’m going to copy my work contracts for the past two years and highlight the dates and let them figure out that since I was living in France, I was obviously not the resident of any other state in the US. And if that doesn’t work then well screw you Texas. I’ll just head north.

See, I got in some complaining about American administrators to make up for the complaining about the French ones.

And on a final positive note… it’s the weekend!

happy about it. This week is my first full week of work, since the third years have come back. For some reason I have a week free from them next week, and then I have two very busy weeks what with all of my regular students, the continuing ed students, and giving the continuing ed students an exam. Then I’ll be going home for Christmas! So next week I have to do all my Christmas shopping and lesson planning.

I’m watching the Lyon – Barcelona game right now and Barcelona is ahead. But still I don’t really understand soccer scores, and how it can finish in a tie but the score can still matter, etc. etc. Weird, League of Champions, you’re WEIRD.

Here’s a question about French… I haven’t really been able to figure out “allez op.” What does it actually mean (if anything)? Why do people say it so fast?

Note: While I was writing this Lyon scored. I know you care deeply. I just thought it would only be fair to set the record straight.

Someone go with me! Please! Anyone. It helps if you like Tegan & Sara but I can brainwash you before March 19.

For the moment the website listed for buying tickets doesn’t go up to March and neither does La Maroquinerie’s website. But I will do some investigating.

Edit: I just ordered two tickets…

There was a time when I thought I should space out my posts so I actually had something original or interesting to say each time but I’ve pretty much given up on that.

Last night we went back to the nightclub where we ran into some of the Erasmus students and the coat check lady tried to give me a man’s blazer and blame me for it. It’s all right, I won and got my bag and coat back.

My neighbor was playing that awful Craig David song for hours earlier and I swear it started to suck out my will to live.

So here are some crummy pictures to show you how great France is at Christmastime.

The end of the Place D’Erlon

The expensive restaurant at the end of the Place D’Erlon

More evidence coming.

It’s awesome! And this year there’s no bittersweetness because I do get to go home for the actual holiday. Anyway the lights are on all over town, le P?®re No?´l has set up shop in the middle of the Place D’Erlon (which was swarmed with people today), but most importantly the Christmas markets are open! I can’t wait till I get paid so I can go buy people presents. I’ll have to take some pictures at some point. I really think Christmas season in France is better than in the US. It almost makes up for not having Thanksgiving.

I guess. I shouldn’t complain, I didn’t work today. Yesterday, though, Doris and I went to this mandatory safety orientation. Yeah. The first hour and a half was pretty dead-on boring. The second half we learned all about how to act in emergency situations. So, next time you have a chemical burn around me, you should feel well taken-care of.

Doris had the lecteurs over for dinner last night since it was Thanksgiving so that was nice. Then I taught them all ERS. I still love that game.

Went to the doctor this morning and she gave me some awesome horse-sized pills that have helped my throat.

I finally missed my first two days of French work. At least I don’t have any hours for the rest of the week so as long as I’m better by Monday it’s no big deal.

Also hey, go check out Malavika’s tv blog from the Green Bay paper. It’s set up shop over in the links section.

And it’s been two weeks and three days so I’m going to post part of one of the best break-up songs ever (Ani DiFranco really writes some good ones):

Sleepwalking through the all-nite drugstore
Baptized in flourescent light
I found religion in the greeting card aisle
Now I know Hallmark was right
And every pop song on the radio
Is suddenly speaking to me
Yeah, art may imitate life
But life imitates t.v.
‘Cuz you’ve been gone exactly two weeks
Two weeks and three days
And let’s just say that things look different now
Different in so many ways

‘Cuz I used to be a superhero
No one could touch me
Not even myself
You are like a phone booth
I somehow stumbled into
And now look at me
I am just like everybody else

Oh, what the hell, while I’m at it, here’s the rest of the list:

Aimee Mann – Video
Atmosphere – F*@k You Lucy
Ani DiFranco – Reckoning
Ryan Adams – Hotel Chelsea Nights
Red Hot Chili Peppers – Dosed
Whiskeytown – Everything I Do
Rachael Yamagata – Quiet
Pauline Croze – Je Ferai Sans
Ani DiFranco – So What (the worst one of all)

Anyway don’t get worried about me, I’m only listing them because I’m at the point where I can actually listen to them. I find those last two really interesting together though, if you download them and listen to them I think you’ll understand.

because since then I’ve been pretty busy. Thursday night I was all settled down to my evening routine of wasting time on the internet (including talking to Dad in Germany–I forgot that Germany is not this far-off place now that I’m in France–it’s actually the same time zone) when I got a call that the other lecteurs were going to a bar. We walked past the vegetable pyramid on the way. I can’t find anything online that explains this thing. It’s a large pyramid built of vegetables. Anyway then last night Doris and I went to a party with the Erasmus students that turned out to be the birthday party for one of my students. Afterward we went to a nightclub. Then last night we (three of us lecteurs–me, Doris, and S, the South African lecteur) threw a party downstairs in our common room. Doris and the other lecteur invited all the people they know but we’re pretty sure there were a number of random French people there. Possibly they live here but we certainly didn’t know them. I ended up being the ad hoc dj for a while since I had volunteered my computer for the music. I have lots of new random German and African music on here now. It didn’t really wind down till around 5. So I got up kind of late today and then went to mop the floor downstairs with the other two. I would bet it’s cleaner now than it’s been all year.

So I guess I can stop complaining about my social life now huh.

Tomorrow the teacher I work with has to drive all the way up here from the other end of town (by the school) to get me because our buses are going on strike. I think it’s only one day. The fac de lettres is blockaded (is that how you spell that?) so Doris and the others probably won’t work the first half of the week but I think my school’s so small and separate that it’ll be open. So far the strike hasn’t affected me that much (with the exception of not being able to go to R’s birthday, poo) but J says there are no trains running through Bar le Duc and it’s really empty there. I think I’m just lucky I don’t have anywhere to go right now.

Have I mentioned the Residence Cat? I’m a big fan of his. I can’t quite figure him out though. Actually I’m not even sure he’s a boy but he’s really big so I’m just going to call him a he. During the day he seems to hang out in the office (when it’s open) and at night I find him in random places (the stairwell for instance). The other night when I went out he was sitting at the entry to my building (inside) so I said hi, and then he was still there when I came back so I spent five minutes with him. He’s really the friendliest cat I’ve ever met. I’m always tempted to take him upstairs with me but I don’t really understand who he belongs to or where he, you know, poops. When we got back from the nightclub Friday night I’m pretty sure he was in his entry-way spot but I didn’t turn on the light to see because I knew I’d get waylaid.

I totally thought it meant obliterate. I mean not literally as in unequivocally destroy. Just, you know, get rid of. WRONG. It’s like the same thing as composter, which the other lecteurs clarified for me last night. So it’s a good thing I wasn’t obliterating my ticket after getting on the bus like the signs were telling me to. You know, tearing it into tiny little pieces or burning it. Which is a funny image. Also obliterate is just a funny word when talking about bus tickets. In fact it keeps making me laugh randomly.

Bored bored bored. That’s how I’d describe my life right now. (I might go a little further and add depressed, but today’s been fine, plus I’m drinking wine, so mostly I’m just bored.) Why is no one online to talk to me?! Why do you all you Americans have full-time jobs so you can’t answer the phone when I call you?! Why don’t the people I know here do more things?! (I wish I could describe that last frustration a little bit better, but the wine’s diminished my language skills.)

Also it’s actually cold now. I stepped outside this morning and it smelled like winter. I mean, I know 30 degrees isn’t really all that cold, but I don’t really think of France as a 30-degrees kind of place. I think of it as a place where the people put on their heavy coats mid-October when it’s still only 60 degrees out just because they don’t understand the concept of weather, beyond rain. Perhaps that’s unfair. But they really do do that.

I bought a sweater from Pimkie yesterday. This boredom/depression has led to lots of shopping/vanity. Anyway this WHITE sweater had this tiny pink tag on the side saying one of those hilarious semi-English advertising phrases (feel sweety! feel pimkie!) so it looked ridiculous, and I started to cut it off, and it tore out, and I had a hole in my fleece sweater, so I fixed it with nail polish. I might add that I had to wait several hours to buy nail polish since the pharmacies all closed for their two-hour lunches.

I don’t know why I’m ragging on the French tonight. The lady at the pharmacy who eventually sold me the nail polish was very nice. I think pharmacists are nicer in France, maybe because their jobs seem more vital. Not that pharmacists in the US aren’t important. I just have never really interacted with one.