The saints did none of that marching in stuff

Gotta bullet point this one, I'm too busy making my own Jackson Pollock paintings and watching old SNL clips to really give this one any literary flava.
- Spent an evening of fun and football with some Chicagoans visiting Lyon for a food convention. Lots of talking about bbq, and I some/most of my drinks are now on someone named Bob's expense account.
- Little danish/french dude fell hard core in love with me, but I told him to go away, b/c he lives in Chicago (where his girlfriend also lives)- he was cute, though. Boys in europe so far are too slutty for me.
- Jen and Karl were excellent football-watching buddies, and Jen is good at keeping me out of trouble
- Met a girl from Penn! She's studying abroad at Lyon II and she's into urban studies! Excellent.

Friday night I went out with some english ladies to see a couple english bands...they were really into cowbell. That joke never made it across the atlantic (the one about more cowbell) and needless to say, the cowbell player spazzing out all over the place and eventually breaking his drumstick on the cowbell was AMAZING. Blue oyster cult, I've gotta fever, and the only prescription is -- you know.

prescription filled.

We went to a party with a bunch of completely wasted americans chugging jager (classy) and the one guy from SLU was like, yo, and I was like, STL!?! but he was off to be bad at beer pong or something, and wear a weird/dumb baseball hat. My buddy Hols totally ignored this Idaho pretty boy b/c he was annoying and pretentious and pretty much dumb, and her efforts to ignore him were in vain, as ther ignoring him and rolling her eyes at him only made him want to talk to her/us more. That's the way it works!
Saturday we went to another party with a bunch of assistants - nothing too amazing, though I did meet a French guy who's just crazy for america, so it was nice hearing about the US from the perspective of someone else who hearts it, but not blindly. He was also living in Connecticut during 9-11 --- whoa. It was fun to hear how he joined in with everyone -- going shopping the week after, getting back into the city and life, that sort of thing that was really cool to experience if you were there, and I bet he's one of the better informed French people as far as the "when and when not to play the WTC card." Anyway, he was awesome, and I really think his name was Camel...maybe spelled differently, and pronounced Ca-mellllle, but that's an awesome name. Speaking of awesome names, I have a student named Swan. I asked him if it was like, Swan Lake, swan prince sortof thing and he was like, "yes." This french teenager is mad proud of being named Swan, and for that I salute him.

I'm bummed about the saints, but I think it will be ok. Salutes to Jen, who inspired me to watch football until 5 in the morning when I had to get up at 8, and also salutes to Jen for generously offering me a place to lay my head for those lovely 3 hours.

Magic hair products, internet lamentations and stuff

This product is saving my hair from french destruction. I remembered reading - back in 1998 probably -- about how Jennifer Aniston used it, and now I have it, and my hair feels like hair again. Thank you Kiehl's!

In other news, I've spent about 5 hours here at Raconte-moi La Terre (tell me about the earth) Cafe and I am just feeling the pain of not having internet as a part of my everyday life. I can feel myself using internet differently, and I don't like it. I really do prefer intermittent (sp?) internet usage, rather than the desperate mid-day 5 hour binges I go on now - it's just not healthy, kids. I realize this debate just makes no sense to anyone living in america b/c you have Internet integrated into your lives.
well, hey.

I was talking to this english gal, and she's about to move to a place with internet, and we were just talking about how nice it is to look things up whenever you want, but when you don't have internet, you have to write them down, and then when you look them up, its just not as exciting. Sigh. Also, reading all the bajilz of blogs I am into takes some time, but I'm willing, b/c they're good and informative!

I won't give up the fight for internet in my dorm, though I might just try being pragmatic and using my fellow ex-pats internet connections and hospitality (paid back with groceries, booze and friendship of course! a fair trade, i'd say) so that I can get things underway with things.

I'm sure its not the internet itself I miss, but the whole connected and amazing magic of it all.

Sidenote: my buddy Becky was telling me about this show, HEROES and it sounds awesome. I am missing such good TV, huh? I'm getting to see good Cathedrals and foreign stuff, though - I suppose this is a fair trade, too.

My winter vacation is coming up - Blythe is comin' down for some italian back-door galavanting (yay) and then I'm going to northern europe, hopefully with my friend Jen, who is generous enough to come with me! It will be fun, and I'm going to see the WWII memorial, and I'm pretty much stoked.

Maybe I do want to call you on your empty pretension.

Being from a Show-me state, I'm a show-me person.

I think I would be one even if we hadn't peaced out on gentle Tupelo, Mississippi for stubborn and sweltering Missouri when I was a petit bebe.

France is not a show-me country. And that works for France. And that is good.

The proviseur just came in asking who everyone was in the teacher's lounge a few minutes ago. Firstly, she didn't know her own employees, this should be a red flag.

I didn't have my glasses on (its dumb to wear your glasses at the computer) so I just think, "oh, more professors greeting each other, I will be ignored as usual, good."

So, the Proviseur (the principal of sorts) decides to add me to her game of Guess Who, and she has no clue who I am.

This is the woman who said it would be nice if we had a laundry machine in our dorms. (we don't have one) She didn't even say, "...but...." (?)

Anyway, my super cool stagiare was like, Lori, you know you're supposed to like, be more formal and recognize the proviseur when she comes in the room, etc... and I was like, oh sorry I had my glasses on and I can't see, and ok I'll play that game, sure.

Still, I told her my name, my position, greeted her more or less? It was drill sergeant minimalist, I thought.

I can't help but think about Mr. McCallie here.
Did anyone have to be reminded that he was the principal? If others told you to respect the man, finding a reason wasn't a problem (not for me at least). He was a good boss.

This principal DID NOT KNOW ME, but I'm supposed to have some sortof Proviseur mania on the tarmac of my school whenever her plane rolls in? I'm all for respecting your elders, authorities, etc...but pomp and circumstance for a lady who doesn't know her teachers much less her students? It just strikes my american soul as something a little bit yucky.

Maybe its tradition? That's good, tradition is good. I don't know.

I'll of course apologize for not popping a bottle of champagne and doing a little jig when I noticed that she might notice me...on second thought, I'll just lay low, laissez-tomber, laissez-faire -- its v. french, and I must assimilate!

Mr. Harig used to say, "if you have to say your the big enchilada/kahuna/?, you're probably not."

If others have to remind you to curtsey to you, you're probably not much of a monarch.

Papal house of Pomp

Visited Avignon, home of the pont (that doesn't go all the way across, and that you have to pay to walk upon) and the gigantic papal castle. A pont is a bridge, by the way.

Overall, Avignon was neat, the food I enjoyed with my wine was totally delicious, wow. Though it was not very provencal-esque (the region in which we found ourselves is called Provence) -- it was fine -- and I ought to come prepared with directions, a map, and heck, reservations if I want to eat at genuinely authentic restaruants, b/c when traveling in a group of 8 girls, there is no other way.

So we ended up eating at a touristy, though delicious, place. Drinking wine with lunch made me feel a moment of alcoholic panic, but then I realized I was in France/Europe, where they're not ashamed of drinking alcohol in broad daylight like we Americans tend to be...right?

And this cool picture of a sassy lady and her fierce fleur de lis dress. You can't see'em, but to the right there are popes looking JEAL-OUS! The palace offered some cool fashions (not pictured -- the swiss guard outfit! love it), interesting and hidden fleur-de-lises, and a REALLY boring guy on the audio tour. They really ought to make museums take themselves less seriously.

I think Snoop Dogg would've narrated the lives of the popes with incredible nuance.

Also, they had all these cool wooden renderings of the papal palace in its many reincarnations, and I say, why not make them removable! Build your own papal palace! People would love it.

Think more Science center and less "crazy stone dungeon with stuff to read."

Exercises in inappropriateness

My pal Becky just called me to vent about her class discussion on 9-11.

Her first words, after my, "hellooooo?" were, "I just cried in front of 14 high schoolers."

Poor americans, we are so weepy. There's some email joke circulating (or that circulated) showing each county's reaction to Zidane's totallylame headbutt that lost France the world cup, and America's reaction is, of course, thinking its a terrorist threat or something -- I, being american and all, don't really understand.

Its a dillema really, b/c you don't want to be the weepy american who over-importance-izes 9-11, but still, a little bit of you is like, "ow?" I'd be happier if they made fun of New Orleans and all that crap that went down, frankly. (NOLA's going to be fine eventually, though, if you asked me...or these guys. will you buy a shirt already?)

My friend emillie was just hanging out in a bar in the countryside of western france when some girl asked her if she knew anyone who died in the twin towers.

"Yes." she responded. (in french, b/c she's a gangsta french speaka)

Emilie's from quite near new york (in more than just a geographical sense, though her hometown in CT is super close as well) so she really did like, know know people.

"You know it was your fault." responded her kind French inquisitor.

Needless to say, Emilie had not much more to say to that lady.

To be fair, one of her teacher's daughters, when emilie was recounting the tale, said she would've punched that girl in the face. And I in no way am generalizing all of France's baguette-carrying legions of being so rude... in fact, most of them are reassuringly curious, sympathetic, and eager for you to prove wrong their vast misconceptions about the average american.

Still, I got this lovely little drawing (above) done for me by what is admittedly my worst class (as far as attitude, though some are really sweet, its a pity they're in a class full of hooligans, really -- been there before).

When I told them that was a little inappropriate, they, being sassy adolescents (19 years old, does that count?) told me they thought it was beautiful.

What's up with this? This is not where the 9-11 insensitivity stories end (at least in the classroom), but really there shouldn't be a beginning! .

Should I play the Pearl Harbor card? Should I say, would france draw pictures of a couple hundred men entombed in a warship at the bottom of the pacific and tell me its beautiful? Isn't that creepy?

I do realize that Pearl Harbor led to the US joining in the WW2, not some strange "war" on something. This is not an anti-war post, I'm just acknowledging that ww2 does not equal iraq or whatever we're calling it.

Still, the tragic loss of average citizens (and military men and women) just the same is equal, regardless of time, place, context....right?

It's annoying.

Plus, most of america has moved on from 9-11, and is trying to make the world a better place (and succeeding) despite crazy wars that send our friends to sand dunes to play smear the queer with al-quaeda -- or however the heck you spell it.

9-11 is in the past, and that is a blessing - the future is brighter than how the tiny chunk of noisy and rude french, with existentialist malaise and heaven knows what kind of tabacco dependency running through their veins, see it.

Peace in the middle east,
Lori

First week booked, second week up in the air

Possibly literally with that up in the air business.

I'm going to party it up with blythe in Italy for the first week of vacation. I'm looking forward to it, and most of our flights and hostels are booked and I am no longer having stupid travel-planning malaise...what a silly sort of malaise!
The second weekend I was toying with the idea of going to seville to be a flamenco/sevillianas dancer for a week. I might just peace out to Scotland and Ireland and chill with my english speaking brethren/ancestry, as it seems I will be travelling all by my (not) lonesome.

I'll keep you posted! Blythe and I are gonna have a frickin awesome time, i can feel it. Also, I need to look and see what setting to use on my camera so that my pictures are more clear.

This blog has no purpose, I apologize.

In other news, I have a vacation coming up in April that I need to start planning for! march 31-april 16th or so. Also, Rebecca is coming to visit in May after I finish working to finish up the European touring. Should be fun to go home after that! Meredith graduates on the 27th, so I may be home for that in all reality, as I will surely be Europe'd out by then. The question remains: will meredith want to visit? will she book a flight? I cannot answer these questions myself. Hmmm.

Travel weary

Mostly, I'm bummed b/c the Castle of Selvole is booked for the time Blythe and I will be in Tuscany. Sigh. Where else to find mom and pop goodness in Italy!?!

I am proud for having booked some flights, but I'm quite exhausted, and really lament not being able to do this internet thing late late at night, when I don't want to be doing things that young people want to do, like go have a cocktail (or 8).

I'm having a little of the travel burnout as the distance from home and that sort of thing becomes more obviously further...also I just got off of a 2 week train-travel binge about 4 days ago...planning all over again is sortof getting annoying! (I know I should not be saying that, b/c after all, I am in Europe, yo)

For those of you about to comment.

I salute you.

I know my blog just exploded with posts. Expect it to not be so manic in the future. Still, I wanted to shout out to my lovely commenting buddies! Its so fun to discover that someone commented on my blog. I know its just like 6 of us reading, but it's fun to see.

Props.

I have blue suede shoes

They’re totally cool!!!!!
I still long for some kind of imitation of my brown ones...I wore them with everything! We’ll see how my AWESOME blue suede boots turn out though…blue suede goes with more things than you'd realize. I also have black boots that look just like my brown ones. I have a boot obsession.

I admit it, but boots are so good for modernizing my vintage dresses (98% of which are home in the STL, don’t sell’em mom!)

Cool Solution: I think I’ll go visit Blythe and get me some cool light brown vintage semi-cowboy boots in the ATX. If we get’em on the side of the road, that means the hipsters won’t have marked up the prices ridiculously. How’s July Blythe? Heat up the state for me. I want to try to cook an egg on the sidewalk.

Distance makes the heart grow weirder

Somewhat off the “hey I’m traveling and soametimes I do cool stuff” subject of the blog, but hey. I read this gal’s blog pretty religiously, (ever since I “randomly” stumbled upon it, I believe me and my laptop were at Kaldi’s, my StLwifi haven) and I gotta say I really like what she’s got going on. I also remember that I emailed her, and she responded nearly immediatly. Snaps! I especially like how her company, Citizen Agency, won’t take clients unless they have a higher purpose. Total duh, but daring!

She’s working in San Francisco (one of the the only big cities that doesn’t turn its residence into pod people…snaps), and there’s a lot of stuff going on there as far as like, start-ups, etc….but I want to work/help in St. Louis and the whole Mississippi valley, right? How does that translate? I’m sure I could figure it out, considering all this translating, in every sense, that I’m doing here in the Big E.

But will I be bored by St. Louis? I wasn’t before, I’m sure its just distance making the heart grow freaked out.

Not to mention, James Brown died! That’ll throw off anyone’s equilibrium. Total bummer, but he lasted pretty long considering he was like, always on drugs I think.

I want to be involved in my community here, but how?

I’m sure I’ve mentioned it before, but I’d really like to get somehow involved in the community here, furthering the “don’t hate, participate” philosophy…just to keep me sane for the 4 months left here in Wineland. I think my community could really use some action, but it doesn’t look like it knows how to do it. I don't want to say that it doesn't have the mechanisms/mindset in place, so I’m going to ask Agnes when I have the energy.

I would also like to take flamenco dancin' lessons. One step at a time.

Internet adventure – missed caroline, but my pictures are up

I am an internet nomad. I travel around Lyon with my laptop in search of Wifi.

I have my stand-bys….Fnac, The Black Lion…but I know there are more out there! I managed to find a totally cool wifi bar within MINUTES of arriving in Zurich…why can’t france be the same? I will explore. Might find some cool non wifi bars in the process.

I didn't get to chill with Caro, which was a bummer, but I am Cinderella sometimes, and I have to leave before midnight.

I am awesome, and I got on the wrong train

So I’m in the train station at Zurich, and I was like, ok platform 16. Then I walk over to the train and I get on -- how nice that I can get on so early! i think.

Then I think, hmmm, this just doesn’t feel like platoform 16.

I get all my stuff down to get off the train to check when suddenly the train starts a’rollin’ about 20 minutes early, and I know I am on the wrong train. I get off at the next stop, see my train going to geneva-lyon in the window, and continue on back to the main Zurich to buy new tickets (only cost me 10 more swiss francs to change).

Go to Geneva, get random hostel…it aint so bad, had internet, creepy people watching that creepy Kevin spacey movie where he dies (I didn’t see bakula), and I actually slept really soundly after covering myself in my scarves, coat, and of course the blankets provided. I sortof felt like Tom Hanks on his first night as a grown up in Big, where he’s like, sleeping by a window and its cold. I didn’t hear any shootings or anything going on or anything (its Switzerland after all) but there was cold air blowing in through the window and that was annoying. Ok, so it wasn’t a lot like Big, but if I had to pick a movie scene that would be it.

Train back to lyon had people speaking some mystery language that sounded like Italian/French/Russian/Czech – who are these people?

A time for us – my love affair with Zurich

Zurich reminded me of America for some reason. Actually for many reasons, and I feel lame for being happy to be in a town that reminded me of America, but its been 4+ months people! Just seeing that Starbucks mermaid made my heart a little stronger to go on. Also, I shopped. It was a blessing/curse not really knowing the value of a swiss franc. I got the best swatch watch in the land, I also got some kiels silk groom hair magic potion, a fierce red dress from mango…such excellent purchases, it helps to not know how much your money is worth to really be able to spend it…thank you once again, CHF (i.e. swiss franc!)

At the beginning of the day, I climbed the big protestant tower – really wasn’t that hard, and the view was groovy. Later on I went down to the sanctuary, and put on Aretha Franklin singing the Lord’s Prayer on my Ipod. Super geek alert, I know, but it was powerful!

Later on I strolled down the main shopping street, found a cute store, “En soie” – very cool silk stuff…real Connecticut opulence stuff, and I searched and searched for the perfect marigold shirt to someday wear with my cool blue boots, but to no avail.

On my stroll down to see the lake I passed the banking district – the scenery was lovely, the bankers all had matching coats, and it was easier not to find them annoying b/c they were mysterious swiss bankers…not like, fruity tooty NYC bankers.

I don’t know why fruity was my adjective of choice. I’m freestyling here. Anyway, I don’t want to hate on any bankers…bank away bankers! Your job would be very hard for me! So after my lovely stroll listening to the tune of swiss german all day, (like german, but with a Kermit the Frog accent…music to my ears! Sorta funny, too) I returned to my hostel, gathered my things and prepared to leave. Little did I know, I might’ve left my brain back at Wueste.

I wanna sleep so I can spend more time in Zurich!

Unfortunately, Z’s were hard to come by in the Hostel. I came in at midnight and I was the last one?!?! Hello, I was not out late. I woke up to Germans cussing American pop songs into their jukebox, (Alice, Alice, who the f&*k is Alice?) but they were doing it happily, and singing, too!

So it was more funny than weird.

The pervasiveness of James Morrison

I heard him on Italian mtv, Italian H&M, rando jewelry store in Zurich…this man is everywhere, and admittedly, I like his bluesy Gavin DeGraw with bronchitis style.

I’m a little suspicious of his not being conscious enough that his name is Jim Morrison (cello, the doors) to change it a bit, just out of respect. I do, however, hope he does not steal Marc Broussard’s thunder…b/c he is a british soul intruder!!!
Come on Marc! Release your new album!
You are the real thing, and I know it.

I resisted starbucks, and was rewarded -- generously

Please do note, I do not condone starbucks resistance usually, but I am going for a "wow, starbucks, taste of home" whenI return...also, if I drink starbucks, I fear I might book a flight back to the USA the next day...so I refrain....HOWEVER.. Due to resisting Starbucks (probably b/c I was following my destiny) I ventured into the frontier of Oldtown Zurich…and thus, I believe I found a bar in Zurich to match the classy and silly atmosphere found at everyone in the Lou’s favorite bar, The Royale (don’t pretend you don’t totally heart the Royale). It was called Wueste (www.wueste.ch), whatever that means, and they even brewed their own beer – and it was good. My goofy red Tyrolean hat fit right in. Snnnaps!

I heart you, Wueste. Will you be my friend?

You and your beer, and your English speaking bartenders, and your banana’s hung from the ceiling underneath a snakeskin kayak-lamp, your colorful beaded chandelier, your sombreros and gold lamé cowboy hats, your WIFI, your chill and diverse clientele and even your strange techno music from the 90s.

* You know….I know what I want, and I want it now… I want you, ‘cause I’m Mr. Rain (?) I never understood that song. Is it Mr. Rain? Missarranged? I missed a ray? *

If you find yourself in Z-town, finde Wueste at Oberdorfstrasse 7 8007 Zurich

It’s a hotel, too, if you’re a baller. Hotelotter.ch

You will be so not sorry it is ridiculous if you go there.

PS that night I also bought some awesome swiss flag tourist gear (I have a weakness for swiss flags…especially when I can wear them. Also, when they are waving from flagpoles on swiss farmhouses.)

PPS I also bought some blue suede shoes (boots to be exact). They should go very well with everything I own. Hello Elvis connection!

Swiss-tastic Phone booths in Switzerland

I found myself in a comic book as soon as I opened the phone booth and it started playing music. It was very star trek or something, but I got to chat with mom about various happenings in the StL as I stood under a lovely periwinkle light in a glass cylinder that looked sortof like an old school tylenol. I was prepared to be beamed up somewhere, but alas, Swiss technology has not gotten that far.

Or maybe I just didn’t press the right buttons.

Zurich is super cute

Zurich is super cute – bought boots and swiss paraphenelia!

Leaving the train station is Zurich is like stepping into Disneyland, but its real. I know I’m all about authenticity, and I occasionally don’t like places that are too perfect, expensive or clean, but Zurch was so easy to plug into (low entrance barriers! Such a plus), and so cute and charming (the scenery and the bankers), that I just have to call it my favorite city so far.

Just so cute! It was authentically Disneyworld in real life.

And it’s protestant, I might add – not that I really really care, but its sorta neat to see a famous protestant church from old-school times for one. Zwigli, represent! I like how his statues always show him holding a Bible. Faith and faith alone, mofos! But I am sure he was not really the most fun guy ever, as most early protestantos were not.

So I manage to get away from creepy snowboarders who aren’t cute in the hostel and go for a walk. I met Oli and Phil, best Americans in Switzerland ever, on the bridge to the Somethin-munster church (I have a feeling that is redundant) and they took my picture with the Chagall windows. I loved them, and Oli’s sister works in Switzerland and they’re from Dallas and they were so effusively kind. They vividly described some bratwurst place that I never managed to find b/c I got too caught up drinking beer at some local bar and writing letters to my buddies. (an excellent suggestion/reason to go to a bar in a strange place to sample the local flava…even if you have no mates with you – mille grazie to miss Blythe for being awesome and doing it first)

Adventures in Interneting

At doris’ there was really fast internet, and it was in a home. Something I have not experienced for about 4 months. Needless to say, magical. Thanks to the Violands for allowing me to use the computer – I hope I did not seem to be an internet creeper.

I saw something funny on the comedy central insider blog, so I decided to email this fella Chris Locke, who also happens to have been the author of the book I was then reading (and I finished the book and it was awesome). Chris Locke being pretty much asesome and all, emailed me back! Throuch him I discovered that The Daily Show is taking their videos off YouTube…not cool! Chris Locke however, cool. Sortof an amazing moment.

Also, I found a gal who has linked to testimo in her blog…she lived in LA and she loves her some Testimo, so of course I loves me some her. We emailed, etc… it should be a happy friendship…maybe she can give me some insight into the testimo-customer-mind, so that I can write better descrips, and possible blog better when the time comes for the TestimoBlog.

I also discovered on the internet… http://www.elfyourself.com, http://www.photojojo.com, and subway parties, and Mr. Nola dirtycoast.com guy who may or may not be sending me a t-shirt to the Sweetbriar homestead for that kooky little “C-ray” thing I have to the right.

Awesome!

Onto real, not e-life....
On the last night, we watched Coupling, a british sitcom, with Doris’ buddies, and I thought…wwwwaaay too obviously “Friends” in british, but still it was cute. And english, which was very genrous of my austrian buddies.

The next day for lunch we had some “birds” – which were really like, beef wrapped around pork wrapped around a pickle = delish – and I peaced out to Zurich on a lovely swiss train ride.

Seriously, it was super precious, the swiss countryside, and I like it that it’s a mountain fortress. I liken it to the mountain fortress in the movie big, and I feel very safe there knowing that, in the event of an invasion, Switzerland could blow up all access to its country by land. I’m not sure about the planes, but I’m sure they have that covered to. Neurtrality or die! Also, with knives like that, the army has to be good. I think its sortof neato that the army is famous for a knife that they probably never really use, b/c the army never fights (unless there are like, Swiss Jack Bauers…they would use those knives).

Gemutlicheit, yo

We drove to Germany (crazy huh), to a town called Lindau. It was totally German, and by totally German, I mean it was sortof a lot like Austria. Though we did hear a thing on the radio that said Germans were giving Austrians some trouble for “alledgedly” charging them too much to go skiing on the beautiful Austrian mountains, and that mad Doris mad. I sense a leeeetle bit of rivalry betwixt the Austrians and the Germans.

Austrians call Germans some ridiculously awesome nonsense word and it totally drives the Germans crazy b/c they’re always asking what it means, when in fact it means absolutely nothing, other than, you’re a german and I’m calling you a goofy name that is something like Piffkie.

Don’t call Germans this, word to the wise.

However, if you meet an Austrian, complain about piffkies and they will love you.

Also, apparently, if you tell Austrians you are from California, they will buy you a drink…this I learned from Europe on a shoestring, and though an Austrian did buy me a drink, I don't think i told him I was from California, unless I nodded a yes to an incomprehensible, "are you from california?"… from Europe on a Shoestring I also learned that Austrians are grumpy, which is so not true.

Gemutlicheit! Look into it, Europe on a Shoestring!

They even have a drinking song about Gemutlicheit.

I learned about this lovely word from Rick Steves of BackDoor Europe - he's my travel Guru.

Discover Austria by way of Bregenz – capitol of Vor al Berg-berg-berg

We hop on the train(s) from Innsbruck to Austria the next day. An old lady got mad at me in Bregenz for no real reason, and I was like, come on lady…keep it light already! I was hoping Herman the Red Tyrolean hat would charm any naysayers.

Though Doris, bless her heart, got some pretty terrible news as soon as we arrived, we still managed to live it up, Bregenz style, eating cool Austrian food.

Some of it was like that corn stuff (its like soft corn…my dad eats it and my mom hates it, and its like soft corn kernels) but with cool tyrol cheese and onions, and Pfiff – the regional beer. I had a lot of those, b/c I cannot say know to regional specialties, whatever they may be. The whole drinkin alcohol whenever you feel like it is pretty neat…I guess the beer brought out the flavor in the food, but I wondered if I was an alcoholic seeming friend – drinking a beer with every meal. But I don’t think so, b/c I was in Austria!

We also ate cool Weiners, that became “Berners” b/c we ate them with cheese.

Fascinating. We then went to explore Bregenz, where Doris bought a crazy awesome snowboarding suit, and used her multi-lingual skills to talk to the swiss-italian store owner, who spoke Spanish b/c his sister in law was from Ecuador. Snaps to doris for recognizing the equadorian accent. NO snaps to me for not understanding anything.

I had weird volcaono dreams that night, along with some strange one featuring Jason Mraz, and airplane, pinching, and a middle aged lady with a Christmas sweater. Needless to say, the next day I was a little weirded out, especially with the whole, Saddam, Gerald, James Brown death triumvirate. We watched CNN b/c it was the only channel in English, and it ended up giving me the serious creeps, as I got worried that my cousins were in the middle of riots in Iraq. They’re not, I later found out, but I told doris my cousin’s might be overseas, and she got worried, so I got worried, and it was just like worry-time.

So what to do?

The Violands, being awesome parents, decided to ameliorate the situation. Sidenote: Mrs. Violand could very well be my mom with all her losing of her glasses, really loving her warm fireplace, and sleeping on couches (not to mention the black pants black turtleneck style she totally rocks…you are not alone, Mom/Johnny Cash!)

Austrian home movies on the old school movie projector. There was hiking, there was skiing, there was interesting Austrian Christmas, there was Doris as a 2 year old (skiing and hiking). It was Austrian-tastic, and though it made me miss home/wish I had an old school projector so I could see the film strips of myself as a toddler, I totally loved every minute.

I am from Austria---Innsbruck!

"I am from Austria" is a song about Austria, and how it was big, but now it's small, but that doesn't mean it isn't still big on the awesomeness. It’s all in “Austrian” except for the chorus, which is in English, according to Doris - cheekily - so that, “everyone will know"
...that I am from Austria.

New years eve in Austria was super fun! We drank at Doris’ buddy’s place, danced, sang some songs as Toby the German played some mad guitar (he even sang the blues, not bad, not bad at all. Mad props for rhyming "nice" with "think twice."He said that he thinks the English language is the best language in which to sing the blues. I mean, I agree…but what lovely thing to say. Not that I invented the English language or anything, but I was born in Mississippi. Sophistic logic, nahh).

We went to the main square to watch Fireworks, dance the waltz, and to trade hats. (that last one’s not a tradition, but I think it should be!)

My chapeau, Herman the Red Tyrolean Hat (a purchase I had to make earlier that day) made lots of friends, and really suited everyone he found! We then went to a bar, and some Austrian guy tried to make out with me -- realizing/not realizing that I don’t speak ANY GERMAN AT ALL…I guess that’s sexy, the whole insta-dumb illiterate thing – anyway, I was like, eh, peace out. Though he did buy me a beer, and try to talk to me. Luckily, my Austrian buddies told him I was awesomely American, and didn’t understand anything he said. Plus, I barely drank that beer, it was like 2am on new years…I had had enough, and I needed to dance it off (and I did)!

Wave your hands like you just don't care

We went with Silvia’s buddies to a wine bar on my last day in Italia – where it was quite loud…Italians talk loudly, its sortof refreshing. I will miss Italy, I was just getting the hang of waving my hands a lot and saying, "eh!" alllllmost as well as mom and pop Fedele do.

Oh it was fun to be so expressive -- and I also liked the speaking italian part. I remember the first time I formed a real italian phrase in front of Papa Fedele...it was something like, "I like this gorgonzola cheese, b/c the gorgonzola at my place is too strong."

I may as well have recited the entirety of Dante's Trillogy in perfect old italian, he was so encouraging and impressed. It was a truly proud moment ... Papa Fedele, you are the Jaime Escalante to my italian. From then on, I attempted to stand and deliver all the broken italian I could muster. It probably started working just about the time I left.

Later that evening we then went Celebrità, the awesome Italian nightclub/giant living room with dance floors… full of ambiance and ridiculously good latin dancers doing a dance step I never learned (I should’ve dove in though, I was catching on just from watching). There was also a flooded toilet, and a few rooms….the one we were in was, semi strange, but happy music that wasn’t as bad as techno. Talking (or trying to talk) to Silvia’s friend’s funny and boisterous Italian pals was entertaining, as I tried to speak Italian to them, and they tried to speak English to me.

that = funny

And so the next day I left, with some Pandoro and Spumante (its like Champagne, but it's not Champagne b/c its not from France, celloo) from the Fedele’s, along with Mama Fedele’s delicious sandwiches (lifesaver), to go on a crazy beautiful train ride through N. Italy and lots of snowy mountains, not to mention lots of random old castled on hillsides…crazy!

Mama Fedele, I miss your cooking. I think it is also salient to mention that me and mame fedele both have a crush on Dr. House. (!)

We open...

in Venice! (yes I did just use a quote from one of my least favorite songs from a 1940's musical, ouch)

Venice was picturesque enough. A little bit on the stingy, dingy side, though. I was a little bummed, though not surprised to find that there were only foreigners in Venice….I was slightly disappointed that when I went to the “non-touristy” part of Venice, there were pretty much NO stores open (like, they were boarded up) and there were just creepy dudes yelling at each other, and dogs biting each other. Quite gothic. Not my favorite local flavor.

Other than that, the Canal’s were lovely, and that was that. Venice is for (rich) Lovers, not random StL girls who really travel for the people and the atmosphere, and not necessarily for the sole purpose of seeing a postcard in real life.

I did totally love the Gondola dudes chatting with each other off Piazza San Marco. That was cool. And San Marco really did look just like that old Banana Republic t-shirt…it’s a cool church, no doubt.

Anyone else noticing an “Italian Cities that start with the letter ‘V’” theme here? Hm.

Verona : forecast Fair

Let's lay our scene already...

We went to Verona on St. Stephen’s day…too bad we missed dinner b/c Mama Fedele said she was gonna kill the chicken…oh well, my stomach could’ve used a break anyway. So Verona was lovely, we found a great restaurant (snaps to Emma, my travel buddy, for not accepting anything but the best), and the Romeo and Juliet stuff was nostalgic, and I totally lovd the cool Italian trees in the sunset….Emma, who is from Mexico, and I watched the sun set over the Verona rooftops and were like, “Here ya go families in the America’s there’s some sun from us!” Because that’s where the sun is going…west to America. Hope you enjoyed the boxing day sun, Americans.

For a couple days in Novarra, we just chilled, b/c there was crazy fog. Like, crazy fog. Apparently it was not so bad, but I was like, wow – fog everywhere! Still, we watched The Date Movie, and 40 Year Old Virgin (English subtitles for me! A funny way to watch such silly movies, true.)

On with the Christmas posts!

While I finish some delicious french shepherd pie – which, interstingly enough, is called Hachish – sprinkled with enough pepper that I have sneezed about 3 times (perfection) …I figured I might as well recap some Christmas memories.

I really want to do this as quickly as possible, so I can get back to posting in real time, and therefore be able to add a little artistry to my posts.

Bullet points, why not?

- Thursday before vacation, Doris and I go out drankin’ and she manages to teach me some of her excellent Vor al Berg drinking song before I go and pass out. The next day I get my carte de sejour! IT was another lovely encounter with the French DMV and I’m not even kidding – it was quick and easy. Wow.

- Friday I had to get up suuuuper early, and barely made the bus to Torino. Emma, however, was not so lucky and missed the train. Poor girl, missing trains SUCKS. We arrived in torino and I was able to speak Italian to an Italian in italy for the first time to ask if I was at the right station, and I was.

- Arrived safely in Novarra, had some ridiculously good pesto ravioli (homemade, crazy) with mama Fedele, gave’em the cool American candy from the 50’s, 60’s and 70’s to much praise (snaps to Aunt Lolo), then that evening, pizza at a restaurant with Silvia’s buddies, then was the notte bianchi…this means all the stores are open late on Christmas Eve-Eve and we wandered around the crowds. There were also people offering free hugs, so that was cool, albeit a little bit strange --- everyone knows all hugs are free! There was also the typical Italian posing-dudes in some bar we stopped in…he had really cool jeans and I wanted them.

- Christmas eve brought a giant lunch, and some weird liquor. I drank and ate to my heart’s delight, though not necessarily my stomach’s…but no worries.

- We went to Vigevano with Silvia, Federica (silvia’s buddy) and emma – it’s a totally Italian-tastic town, with a big, super pretty and ornate square, Italians doing the evening stroll thing (it was Christmas Eve), a big ol’ castle, and markets selling Christmas things, and a lot of slippers.

- Christmas Lunch – ridiculous food that was delicious (I wasn’t the BIGGEST fan of the lemon-flavored pasta…crespelle, I believe it was called…but whatever, there was plenty else to drink) the fake cat that silvia’s niece, Laura, got for Christmas was awesome (you could even make it hissss), adorable family, we all got matching scarves from Silvia’s sister, and got to just hang with family…it was great!

- After the Christmas lunch, we went to Silvia’s buddy’s house to play Bingo – some strange Italian version that I didn’t know how to win at….I eventually figured it out, through the blurr of my sugar OVERLOAD — having Pandoro (crazy Italian sugar bread/cake, coated in powdered sugar) with mascarpone 2x in a day, I was like, whoa dudes. My American stomach is freaking out. Later on in the day we went to get tea with Silvia’s buddies (xmas tradition, ok) and Emma and I wandered around Novarra…it’s a cool town! I liked it a lot, and the castle was totally bad-ass, though Silvia seemed to shrug it off as “just another castle” as most European folk are prone to do. Compared to Cahokia mounds, that castle was the BOMB.

Week before Christmas wrap up

After Christmas, I thought we all were poisoned by the weird Duchere water, b/c everyone was bein’ weird, and feeling weirder, like physically. We went to see this kooky show called Mayumana, sortof like poorman’s cirque du soleil meets stomp. I wanted to die through most of it, but most of the other girls were fairly entertained. It just seemed like a sortof semi-good Penn Performing arts performance of the Rhythmic, bang on trashcans in fluorescnent lights and do annoying clown sketches group to me.
Agnes had a fun party full of singing and eating. It was really fun getting to go over to Agnes’ and hang out with the Caldero family and make cookies. Very Christmas indeed. I accidentally said, “putain” (which I think is some sort of multi-use cussword), and was quite ashamed at uttering such profanity in the presence of family. But I’m a foreigner! I usually only cuss to creepers on the street, anyway.

Solene, agnes’ daughter who shares my birthday, was awesome and kept me company while I tried to make the peanut butter, hershey’s kiss cookies, though I had to improvise, cutting French chocoloates in half, to make makeshift Hershey’s kisses. It was pretty awesome that everyone but me was like, WOW these cookies are so novel! And I know them as the cookies that everyone has all the time and they are soooooooo common and boring and even a little bit annoying to me. How many times did those cookies show up at snacktime, seriously? But in france, this whole, putting the chocolate on the cookie thing was like, totally cool.
So that’s totally cool!

24 = best year ever!

My 24th birthday was glorious. I got great present from my buddies (guitar strap from Doris, excellent peach soap/lotion basket and moose stuffed animal from emma, and The Blues Brothers DVD from Holly and Silvia), I bought a cool ice-cream Buche de Noel for my birthday cake, Emilie came to town, I got happy birthday sung to me in like, 5 languages (Austrian, Italian, Spanish, Swedish, English, French…ok 6) while drinkin’ wine and eating olive oil flavored potato chips at Silvia’s, 4 of the Duchere girls managed to pass a logically sequenced night together and not get separated (here’s to pre-planning!) ....and I also got to hang with Caro and Hensley, and sing fun songs to the awesome GuitarMan who likes to play at English Pubs around Lyon. It was a great weekend of really getting to go out freely (knowing Emilie was always game for a drink – as long as it wasn’t Carlsburg – and feeling like a real Lyon gangsta, drinkin’ beers and takin’ names.

I also loved that Caro’s boyfriend’s name was Gaultier, and that when some weirdo tried to touch my AWESOME new snowboots and I had to yell at him, Gaultier said not to worry, he would protect me and my boots. Gaultier was tall, too, dude. Like scary giant Frenchman tall = excellent!

2 cheese opinions for the price of one

Creamy round cheese – like cream cheese, but more exciting…cheesier tasting. Saltier? Tasted really good in my avocado, garlic, tomato salad.

Regional round of Goat cheese – regional goat cheese, this one had that cream cheese, but saucier vibe that I like so much about goat cheese. I like it that its sorta crumbly or like, harder than cream cheese, and its got that really interesting “is it mold?” bubbly outside. Its also really good hot. MMm! Strange cheeses!

ps I will be adding pictures of said cheeses soon, so worry not!

Garlic flavored Goat cheese nibbles - aperatif of champions

Excellent crumbled on salad, very legit with your drinks (l'aperatif) before dinner. Fun to eat b/c they look like little thimbles and they’re sortof like, crunchy like rocks. Def. liked the garlic flavor more than the red pepper or “herves de provence” flavors.

I like cheese that have pictures of smiling goats on them.

Backbeat, the word is on the street

That I am no longer 12.

I learned Wonderwall on my guitar, (it’s a pretty easy song to play, but its also pretty easy to forget, as its all fancy finger moves and not memorable chords, durn) and since realized that my students probably do not know this song, as I liked it when I was 13. Oasis is an old band! Geez!

I remember - I met my first net-friend, Wendy from New Jersey, on the Oasis messageboard. Wendy was the shit! She was so fun and sarcastic, and we shared tips about how to make frames on our websites. How geeky, but how awesome...oh the days when I was on the cutting edge of HTML.

In other early net adventures, I also was on some swing music mailing list when the Squirrel Nut Daddie’s song, “hell” (I believe) made it on MTV and people on the list were freaking out. It was pretty cool to be a part of that, no matter how small, when everyone on the list was like, from San Fran, and I was some 13 year old from STL. I am old school.

Its a Lovely Pyrenees Cheese Holiday with Lori

It had the cool holey consistency, with the added bonus of a black crust...ooo, spooky...and it tastes like swiss cheese/bitter cream cheese in a softer, more bouncy cheese form.

I am not a food critic, so if these cheese confessionals sound like I’m reviewing mattresses, enjoy the humor and give me the benefit of the doubt. I am trying to delve into the gastrointestinal soul of a nation!

There’s no Canada like French Canada

Thanks to Emilie, my south park ambassador, I now have the south park episode, Christmas In Canada, on my computer. Me and Doris watched it (she is amazing at English, and only needed me to translate Cartman’s crazy English every once in a while) and we agreed that the best part is when the French Canadian guy asks, “Would you like a mooo-stache?”

Annecy cheese is good enough for me

Melts well, has the cool and intimidating outer skin that looks like bark, has spicy taste at first. I LOVE THIS CHEESE. Its got little bubbles in it and its sortof soft.

I had to seek out this cheese in some random regional goods store in Annecy, France where they have lovely mountain ranges on a lake, and I am glad I did b/c I love it (and I can see that I can buy it at the Atac, which is my french version of Schnucks, though I do miss Schnucks... the store, not the people really!!! Must learn the name of this cheese)

I got you Cheese - Cancouilloute

Another great cheese. It's sortof the consistency of glue, but in an awesome way.

The best is pink garlic flavor, and it truly makes for great pasta sauce. There is also a song about it, and I like it b/c Phillipe and Agnes first introduced me to it and I totally heart Phillipe and Agnes…so the concouilloute makes me think of their awesomeness.

Annual Cheese Reviews

Cheese instalments- here's the part where I tell you about all the different cheese I'm eating/trying to eat here in France. I was partly inspired by my boss at Testimo's Brandy, and partly by my love of cheese, and partly by Phillipe, Agnes' (awesome teacher friend) husband, who approves of my cheese discovery endeavor.

I was talking to Phillipe and I told him I always try to buy a new cheese everytime I go to the market and he was like, Lori, if you buy a new cheese everyday, you’d have to stay in France for something like 3 years to try all the cheeses.

Well Phillipe, I don’t know if I can get a cheese-trying Visa (though, if any country were to have such a Visa, France would be the one, snaps) I am on my cheese adventure nonetheless!

President of the Internet book

I read this book called the starfish and the spider, and it had a sortof incredibly hilarious part where this early internet dude is trying to pitch the Internet to some French business men, and they’re like, “Yees, but who eez zee President?” and the internet dude is like, “well actually there is no president” and the French are like, Sacre bleu, no president? We will not invest. So push comes to shove, and this guy is just like, “I am the President of the Internet.”
Oh, France.

This whole scenario is funny for many reasons, the least of which being that it all happened in France, the most of which being that it’s really really fun to tell people (or yourself) that you are president of the internet. In a sense, we all are! It feels good. Tell someone today that you are the president of the Internet. You are!

The book itself rules. It had a very cool, Tipping Point sortof thing going for itself. I remember that Dr. H told me that he thought Malcom Gladwell was some young punk thinking he knew what was up with the business world writing The Tipping Point. Famous last words, I think. I was sortof stunned to silence by someone thinking you had to be old to write/understand what seemed like pretty simple and compelling points made by Mr. G. I wish I’d told Dr. H that not liking the Tipping Point is sorta lame. Anyway, I totally dug the Tipping Point, and The Starfish and the Spider, while probs not as salient to everyday experience as The TP (haha), was super cool, and thought provoking in a major way. The part about the terrorists was like, whoa. I dug it! Thank GOD for amazon.com used books and affordable international shipping rates!
*Gift idea: Amazon.com gift certifs….so useful to me! *

BAT flights over oceans

In breaking news, Blythe has booked a flight to come on over to the Big E for the beginning of my February vacay! Bitchin! We shall be renting a car to drive around Sienna, and then we will go gaze at the ocean, drink strong wine and eat fish in Cinqueterra. Miss Blythe has also done a nice job of embracing my attempt to use the wiki to do trip planning. Snaps to you for contributing to the wiki, Blythe! Blythe also writes me letters, and though she doesn’t describe awesome Methodist Halloween parties in them like my Grandma’s letters do, they are amazing in other ways….mega snaps.

Stamped envelope(Paper+pen+thoughts)/my address = letter!
Blythe and my grandma are brilliant mathematicians in this respect.

My grandma, however, probably still thinks a wiki is some weird drink her brother “Buckshot” liked to fix for the Christmas BBQ’s in Pasadena back in 1949.
She has IM’d me, though!

In other news, congratulations to Blythe on finishing her children's book! Bitchin!

my package(s) arrived in the mail!

My package was awesome, I loved the cards, and I went on a My Name is Earl binge for a good 3 days. It really really made me miss america. (that sentences could be taken 2 ways, the 2nd way is funnier, but makes less sense) I totally heart the Earl team.

It also helped that I had no phone or internet for a whole weekend right after I got my presents. That pecan pie came in handy on Sunday when nothing was open and I was hungry.

Seriously, with no phone, no bus…I was like, is this poverty? Like, damn…people need the buses! I am one of those people! NO wonder people occasionally set fire to cars here – I too felt like I might want to set fire to some cars after 2 days of nothing but me, my blankets, a creepy piece of historical fiction, and not a lotta food (not to mention the perpetually beige-colored hot water here in the Duch).

But I loved my package! Points also to Auntie Lolo for the American Candies of History present … I was able to give that to my Italian hosts (the glorious Fedeles!) and they loved it! Those cinnamon toothpicks were awesome.

I'm still waiting on one from Miss becca S - here's hoping Mr. Postman pulls through!

To my French Friends

To Hensley and Caroline, I’ve lost your numbers, but I salute you, and I will find you.

I did find you, though it involved a rather roundabout way of reconnection – one of which I am quite proud. A quick breakdown: French dude that’s friends with Caro and Hensley falls in love with Emilie, she keeps the # for caller ID reasons, I get his number, text him and he gives me Caro’s number, connection restored! I was very worried I would not be able to find her! But I did, yesssss. Snaps!

Now if I can only figure out how the French go out, b/c they go out so late and I have to get a taxi and it’s a bitch to pay for a taxi alone, so all in all I always end up being like, Caro, I’m peacing out! Just when she’s like, Hey, what are you doing!?
A little planning and some forethought could solve this problem, I think.

I am not Robin Williams in Dead Poets Society

I couldn't form a society for dead poets if I wanted to, I don't think.

Carpe Diem or not, I don’t care you lousy kids. Actually, some of my kids I totally heart. To the girls who want to clean up graffiti – I salute you, and I wish I could sponsor a “Graffiti Sucks” club for you to form. We could sell croissants to raise money to buy a sandblaster, and when we got it (grants would be easy to get for this endeavor!)… we would go around Lyon and clean some of this ridiculous Graffiti, and the power of the youth would once again be evident. But alas, we are in France, and I have no idea how to do such things.
Sigh.

Quest for internet

Francoise, who shares the name (and a country of origin) with a favorite Kirkwood mom of mine, is a teacher who believes that it should not be that hard for me to get internet, really. I have not checked in with her lately, but last time I checked she had asked the computer man -- who is always happy, according to her…and also according to her, and I am inclined to agree, his overt, blatant, unclandestine happiness quite sets him apart from the average teacher at La Martin --- if it wouldn’t be too hard to extend the nurse connection (the nurses office is below me, yes I’ve been researching) into our dorms…he said it’d be actually really easy (!) – all we need is to drill a hole in the floor. The hard part, however, is getting some French mechanic to come and drill the hole. I admit, in the twilight hours when I’ve listened to everysinglesong in my itunes library for the 5th time, I have had dark thoughts of taking to that floor with my blunt butter knife, but I have resisted. Will Francoise cut the red tape and do the diplomacy dance to get internet (I believe it is a right, france believes it’s a nuisance/privilege? No way) to poor teaching assistants? We’ll see.

I am American! I am made to be intrepid and cross rough terrain and discover new things. My ancestors were revolutionaries! I think some of them were Puritans! They cut My people have a long legacy of cutting red tape! Though recently I’ll admit, we’ve been pretty good at creating a bit of the red tape ourselves, also ok, my ancestors did some pretty crappy things too, witch trials and slavery probably the most buzz worthy Ooopsies.

Still -- if the founding fathers could say peace out to a King, I can say, hey crazy French administration and bureaucracy, let’s get some internet in my dorm room that doesn’t even have a phone. So far I can talk the talk, but we’ll see about me walking the walk. I will try to be Ben Franklin and charm the French with my love of wine and song.

In case of the need for contingencies, Plan B is becoming friends with the nurses (should I develop a chronic some sort of illness?), and getting them on my side/getting them to give me the key to the internet.

-- ps I can sneak onto the 2nd floor, but sadly, the office with internet is locked. Ok, its not sad, b/c offices need to be locked, but I would like to check my email … I am an American! --

Plan C is to somehow steal a key to the nurses office and then sneak in there to use the internet and do terrible things like, talk to my mom! Its times like these where I really wish I did have the super spy skills I have always dreamed of aquiring.

Its amazing all the time I have to think since I don’t have internet. Most of it I use to think of ways to get the internet.

Hey there lonely girl

Cell phone loss = solitary weekend...it wasn't cool when I felt like I was sortof experiencing poverty first hand, but it was cool when I tried to pretend like I was abraham lincoln. Though I did have electricity.

I think karma was trying to tell me something the Friday b/c that’s when I left/lost my cell phone somewhere in Lyon. That sucked. What also sucked was that the next day there was a bus strike, so I couldn’t really get ANYWHERE, and was stuck on my ghetto, but more importantly – my not very vibrant hill for a whole day.

I think I read a LOT of Pillars of the Earth, which is a book I really didn’t like very much…sorry to friends and family that liked it, I will never get those 1000 pages worth of my life back! But it did offer me a nice distraction from cell phone loss panic and utter boredom. I probably could’ve profited more from practicing the guitar so I could move up the skill ladder to being mediocre, but I read that frickin book. By about page 600 or so I realized I sorta hated it for various reasons (the main one being that the characters were too one sided, and predictable…the other reason having something to do with way graphic gratuitous rape scenes, euw) – but you can’t very well quite 600 pages in! Anyway, I have since released it on bookcrossing.com on my birthday, but I think it died in the rain.

Air Force water polo california dude and other Austrians for dinner

I came home from wherever I was on Friday evening to find doris’ 2 friends and their cool water polo player friend, who was from California! How exciting!

He’s some air force academy drop-out, who plays water polo but really wants to be a writer or something…I can dig it. I remember saying specifically that when I was talking to him, “I dig” I think is what I said – and Doris was like, what’s that mean? And I felt sortof lame/awesome for unconsciously using the verb “dig” in everyday conversation with another American. I use weird words. Anyway, we had some lovely noodles, and some lovely pink wine drinks, and we were off to see the light show.

I personally was like, wow to the lights, but I wasn't super impressed. Agnes, my awesome teacher friend (that's her official title), says 4,000 or something people come (maybe it was million, but thats crazay) to see the lights and that this year she wasn't so impressed. I just thought I wasn't european enough to appreciate them, but apparently they were just not that appreciable this year. This is good, b/c I felt bad not being impressed!

Fete des Lumieres - Festival of lights!

Good times with Holly, the Italian duo of silvia and Carl, who I found out went to washU, holla! Represent! I heard he wants to move back to new york = lame! But its home to him, so its ok.

As for the lights, they were cool, but they were a little bit eurotastic. So I figured that the fact that the light display with the techno music and bubble sounds on a super old fountain was pretty much just sorta neat to me was b/c I am American and vulgar and used to super special effects when it comes to light shows…that are usually, if not always, to the tune of great hairbands of the 80s, namely Aerosmith, or like, Bon Jovi. So to the cathedral in lights with techno sounds an monks chanting coming out of the speakers I was mostly just reminded of how awesome that laser light show about recycling was at the “new” St. Louis Science center.

Though the cathedral lights were cool, but I think I should’ve done some drugs or something to fully enjoy it, and unfortunately for the light show, I am not big on the drugs. Being high on life didn’t help either!

But the whole light theme was to thank Mary (as in Jesus' mom) for saving Lyon from "la peste" which, from my best guestimate, was the Plague! oooo, spooky. But well worth the gratitude, albeit gratitude in the form of crazy euro lightshows.

Purpose?

I think I have found my purpose somewhere in between gonzo-pinko marketing and New Orleans. These sorts of thoughts aren’t for this blog, but its pretty exciting to have a purpose, more or less.

I just finished The Cluetrain Manifesto and Gonzo Marketing, and I gotta say, I am picking up what those cats are putting down!

Montbelliard - archeologists and dreamy prince people

Dear Montbelliard, France:
You and your Christmas market were sortof an interesting antidote to my hangover. Though I had to carry my laptop all through you, I thank you for bringing me and the Leather Pouch Prince together for brief eye contact. I sorta got lost in his big French eyes when I first saw him, it was a little shocking. He is probably the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen in person (Emilie agrees), and now I own a leather pouch he made, and its super useful! He really did look like some sort of dark prince or something, but like, he would eventually meet a princess and they would have a festival, etc…but really he was just a leather man! When he called me mademoiselle, it was something truly special. I am really stumbling with expressing how cute this French dude was. Just imagine…he was like, fairy tale, hellooooooo. But he just made leather pouches (damn nice ones, ps, and at a reasonable price).

Montbelliard was home to a famous anthropologist, but I was more into their cool pizzas, and how the whole alsacian + French genepool concept had really done wonders for montbelliard, which would make me dare to call it the most attractive city in france, thus far. Everyone looked like princes! Even the old dudes eating interesting cheese sandwiches in the Christmas market tent.

I saw a statue I decided looked like Emilie’s dad, I got some cheese potatoes that were sorta gross, but sorta good, we talked to funny weird pizza makers who were very friendly and funny (yay, normal funny and friendly people) and we had some beer, b/c hey, Montbelliard is near Germany.

The singing Marseilles football hooligans was really just an added bonus, though I was a little overwhelmed by them when I was like, hungover and carrying the laptop and like, sorta angry in general at the air for being so hard to breathe, etc…..Still, Emilie and I decided that our pretty much fav thing about Europe that you really can’t find in the states is their propensity to sing whenever possible, and their stock of songs for most every (drinking) occasion. Sure, we’ve covered the xmas tune market, and the pop music, sure, but for old fashioned drinking songs (and the real embarrassment-free willingness, if not enthusiasm to sing them…) there’s not place like the Big E.
I heart you Montbelliard. If you’re out there leather pouch prince, I sortof heart you, too.

I need to write me some drinking songs to sing in the USA, dude. My buddy doris even knows a drinking song about her region…from what I know of it, it rules. I want a regional song to sing when I drink! The Missouri waltz could do…I should learn it.

I want this shirt

And a lot of others, too.

dirtycoast.com

I was worried about America today.

There's been too much drama going on in the states, and I hope we don't pass out from it all - that's all I've got to say to that. I would welcome some news updates from my homies...an email from a friend is way better than some creepy youtube video linked from a Slate.com article.

Mad shout out to the Violand's of Austria - who have internet access and have thus enabled me to talk to my sister and friends and family!
I salute you!
Gemutlicheit is my favorite german/austrian word ever, ps.

Morteau - land of watches and cows

And Emilie!
We had a lovely time in foggy Morteau! I arrived late thursday night, after I left early from the class that drew me a lovely picture.



Needless to say, another 10 minutes with those hooligans - 10 minutes that might make me late for a cheese drenched weekend in the french/swiss/german/alscace countryside - was really not on my to do list. So i left! And I got to Morteau in the fog and we went to the Terminus bar --- its called the Term if you are in the know like Miss Emilie. We chilled in the smoke-laden air, but before my contacts began to feel like Morteauciean sausages on my eyeballs, we met some locals!
Score!

They were nice dudes, and very encouraging of my not so perfect french, and keen to listen to emilie's pretty much perfect french.

The one guy who introduced himself awkwardly apologized for being of arab descent, which was a little weird b-c at first me and Em had no clue why he was apologizing and when we realized why he was apologizing....well, we still had no clue why he was apologizing.

A beer later we went back to Emilie's dorm and I passed out while she had to get up for class in the morning...yuck. But it was worth it, as now we had some local homeys.

After delicious morteauacien specialties with her buddy Ruven - "Groovy Ruvy" in some circles - we went to play board games like taboo and Uno with Emilie's teacher friend/colleagues. This one french dude kept on cussing like all the time in french and for that, I loved him. He was funny. What was his name Emilie? I tried some Pastis, and it looked like slime and tasted a little bit like licorice soap, but its something that I am not ashamed to say, I could enjoy from time to time with very little grimace.

The next day, we went for a walk? Did we? I can't remember, but it was a totally awesome walk. Hills and little houses, and random fountains and the obligatory WW1 memorial statue. And chickens, too!

I´m Back

Does anyone get why that title is particularly resonant? I´ll tell you why! Bc Im in Austria! And guess who else is from Austria???
Arnold Schwartzennegger, dudes.
I spelled it wrong, but i am not going to google the governator just so make sure i spelled it right.

I´m bummed at myself for slacking on the updating...I hope you will be ok if I go out of chronological order. Blogs are better with the short and frequent posts, I know. If I were in america wondering what I was doing, I would be very mad at myself for not just taking some time to update!!!
I had so much to share before xmas time, and now Ive been in like a million places and seen a million things and definitely heard a million (or more) words that I totally did not understand.
Also, Im going to start using the map feature on my flickr account, get excited!!! This means that you will be able to see exactly where the picture was taken on a map! Internet!!!!!
Anyway, since we last talked Ive been to the countryside of france, where people are cuter, and its very quaint and full of cows, Ive travelled to Italy - Novarra, Milan, Verona, Venice... and now I am in Austria, Breggens to be exact and I had an old ladz get mad at me in german bc I walked too slow, and I spent new years eve in Innsbruck, Austria, which is really pretty and in the mountains and I got a cool Tyrolean Hat! I never knew what Tyrolean meant, but now I do!!! I also think that tyrolean hat wikipedia entry needs some TLC courtesy of me.
So yeah, Ill see you blog readers soon(mom, blythe, who else? If you feel like lettin´me know you read my blog, lay a lil' comment on down, I'll be able to tailor my entries to your whims more easily if I know who "you" are)!
Happy 2007!
Wooo! Best year ever!