Baby Blue Sedan.

My expired passport: highly prophetic, Captain. 

There are certain things I miss about the US, chiefly among them--Shark Week.
Speaking about weeks, it's been about one of those since I've updated, I know--weak. But I've been so terribly busy playing bureaucratic dodgeball that I haven't made the time to stop and write about it.
Firstly, I may still be in danger of deportation. And while I have had many French people reassure me that my general whiteness coupled with my obvious American-ness will make make me a much smaller target, I can't help but feeling a little sick inside at that.
I'm like, awesome, I want to live in a country where the first thing the government considers when intervening in Libya becomes a public issue is whether or not you're going to be dumped with a fresh batch of émigré.
NICE.

It has been super great here weatherwise, yesterday was in the high teens (I don't know what the équivaillent is in fahrenheit.) But on the day Sebastien and I went down to get my carte de sejour it was unusually cold. The fun part about that is we were asked to wait in line outside, for over an hour because we were informed the waiting room was filled to capacity. We had our paper work in order: a copy of our marriage license, our family book, several recent passport photos, a bill, a buy, a justicatif, the physical ID of my landlord, a certified and recent copy of my birth certificate and both of our passports.  

When we were finally let indoors, not only was the waiting area empty, it wasn't even small. Also, there was about 15 minutes before they were set to close.  Seba had to do his whole song and dance, "she is my wife, yes I am American as well, but I am also french..." They always smile like, you're not actually French, kid, and I pretend that Americans wouldn't do the same so that I can be upset about it. 

Great news!

Turns out everything we've read on the internet is wrong.

The only way I can stay here and work legally is if I 

A) leave, return to the US and get a long stay visa, or

B) Live here illegally for three years while being married to Sebastien. 

................................So, if I break your rules for an extended period of time I am worthy of rights and respect, but if I come to the front door with all my papers in order I get all kinds of asked to leave.

Right.

I don't know what it would be like if I enrolled in classes and I don't know what it would be like if I apply at a different embassy in say, Belgium.  So I'm not going back yet.
But I already lined up two places to stay in DC if and when I must.
Thats all well and whiney, but I wanted to share a list of stuff I mean to take back with me in the empty case I'll be bringing to the States.

1. Drugs. Tylenol because that's what I call it, bitch.
2. Peanut butter. It's not my fault it sounds like caca in french. 
3. Floss. I demand quality when I pick these teeth.
4. Brown sugar. Really people, it isn't that hard. But it will be if it sits in the cupboard.
5. Hershey's kisses. Look, not all chocolate needs to be swiss.
6. Chips for Sebastien's totally amazing and effin hilarious new blog
7. My preferred deodorant. Its so hard to say good bye to yesterday. 
8. VERMONT maple syrup. France, Canada is ripping you off. 
9.  REI socks. I pretty much have exactly two pairs, which I wear every day. Sorry.
10. O.G. Coca cola. High fructose corn syrup, I'm coming home!

Quit trying to tear us apart, France! 

Like I said, I have no idea when, because shit is hella expensive and it will only really make sense ( in Sebastien's mind)  for me to get the paper work done if he has a job. Plus, I'd have to go it alone and it could last up to a month. So for now it's cash in cafes for me, encore.
Things have been dope otherwise. Parties, bars and jogging are dominating my life. Lots of pictures, lots of new things to cook. (Ever put quail eggs in your salad? Cost me less then a six pack for 18 of them suckers.) Met up with Tom from Tbr, he didn't even chop me up, and keep me in his freezer. (Which was a small let down because I've never been to the UK.)

My students are cool, even if one of them just failed an exam.  I'm like, damn kid, do you not want to hang out with your new best friend Erin?  Fuckin, get it together or you can't candy as soon as your mom leaves, anymore.

The band thing was pleasant, we're planning to get together again next week. We're calling it Funemployment.  Maybe I'll break you off a little piece of that.
Moving on, do you guys dig my jessica rabbit boobs in that there photo? MYSPACE, damn. It's ok, I never wanted to be in the Senate.  Personally I could stare at Sebastien's half closed eyes in that shot all night. Sometimes I really don't want anybody else. When I think about him I touch uh, him, actually. 

Gotta say, even if I have to leave tomorrow and never come back I've learned so many great words in French. I can speak with ease if the subject is known to me and I've been told my accent is cute. Awesome, I didn't know that worked in reverse.  I'm reading a good book and I'm writing a story worth taking my time with. I'll post it when it's done. I also promise to video blog soon. Swearzies.

Take this and win the internets with it. It is my Gif to you.

Well, teamers, that's about all we have today from cape Erin. It is now my intention to play video games for several hours. I might also be glib. I haven't as yet decided. I'll let you know, but I'll be shallow about it, if I do. And crass. I will also be quite crass, indeed.

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