Pretty simple Math

I'm been feeling rather attached to France lately and in fact Seb and I have been toying with the idea of returning after the Peace Corps and starting our family here. Granted, I'm not exactly bowled over by the French system of education but there are two things that really stand out about a child's living experience in  l'Hexagone.
First, the scouts are co-ed.  (Possibly still quite religious, I'll need to do my research) Mais, a little girl like me would have loved the chance to play with my friends doing cool stuff involving fires and knives...but no, I sold cookies.

 And then there is the chance to travel. You don't see a lot of young French people on those big American back-packing trips across Europe because they spent their school breaks traveling--and not necessarily even with their families. I have no idea of the price range or how universal it is, but all the French families I know send their children away to Turkey, Southern Spain, Ireland or wherever les gosses want for a few weeks of freedom and a chance to meet people that don't go to their school. Striking out on your own like that? Just think of the confidence-builder that would be.
The main reason I'm interested in staying, I mean aside from the education of my non-existent children, is the fact that I'm just starting to get good at French.

Relativement...

Let me ask you: what would annoy you most about learning a new language? No really, think about  

it if you haven't already, what would be the most frustrating thing to no longer be able to express?

Have you ever tried to say "I'm sorry the place is so messy, would you like something to drink?" in another language? Is that even what they say in this culture as way of welcoming?
How about, "We've missed you! What are your plans for summer?"

The goal is to be able to write in the  passé composé, imperfect, future simple, and present of these quotidian verbs in French:

1. to see 
2. to say 
3. to come 
4. to go
5. to have 
6. to be
7. to do
8. to miss 
9. to remember
10. to want

You're probably wondering why I can't already do them all given that I have lived in la Métropole for two years.  Little-known huge truth, I am profoundly pathetic at spelling in English... so writing in French for me had never been le but. However, in roundabout ways I can use most of the listed verbs orally. When you use the form "On" it conjugates the same (sound-wise) as the first person singular, so I can not only talk about myself but also as Seb and I as a unit. Malheureusement, I'm only comfortable with vous (formal "you") with certain verbs: could, go, think, please...

So, I'm totally studying and trying to write them for reals. Being a native English speaker, I have had a bit of an advantage over people who's first language has no Latin roots and the experts say I'd  pick it all up through osmosis if I just hang around and listen. Which would be fine except I can't complete my homework if I don't take a massive hike up learning-curve hill.

And like it or not, I'm a pretty terrible student. Right now, for instance, I could be studying instead of telling you how I      p  l  a  n      to study. I'm supposed to memorize all these verbs and their tenses and then practice them  on top of my actual homework. So how can I make the drudgery of memorization more palatable?

And if you don't know, then now you know.

When I taught sixth grade math, my ladies loved the Thursday before the test because we would always do math centers. The fun originated from  fact that I'm a vrai Geek moi and I brought in my dice to randomize some aspect of their calculations at the various stations.
So here's my game:

Alors, ten verbs...one for each side of a ten-sided die.

 A four sided die for the four tenses I will use!

A six sided die (that must have once belonged to a strategy game) for the personal pronouns. 

And there you have it. Take the output and corresponding meaning in French from each die, and build a phrase! Magic!! Add in the rest of my dice with their side-number values, and the permutations on this exercise become virtually endless.
.......
Can it, Little miss Pedantic,  I said "virtually," OK? And anyway, I can buy more dice.
Simple as that.

 Back to wondering what I should be twittering, I guess. Pacé.

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New England's Daughter

In French, the word for the sea sounds the same as the word for mother. To me that's just one of those coincidences that shouldn't need explaining.

Today in class, like small children all over France, my classmates and I talked about the seasons. Our teacher had us close our eyes and listen to sound clips--they were wonderfully evocative.
A person walking through the leaves, through the snow, bird song, children at a pool; I was all a flutter with nostalgia and love. 

We talked about our senses--the related verbs and nouns. We played with the smart board, touching and making links.

We listened to a director give an interview about her favorite season.

She described blue skys that snap like  young green shoots. You've been there too. It feels rude to try and debase it with language. That deep cold breath you take when all the fall leaves are all the right shades, so close to falling. So alive, so very awake.

Our teacher asked us to close our eyes again and think about the place we were born. 

I stuttered momentarily because I am a child of two States. But I am wholly the daughter of New England. 

Cape Cod, you are my warm memories.
Walks at night. Such darkness, such privilege.
Coyotes and foxes: my friends and betters. Constellations so faithful in their arrangements even charlatans knew they deserve epic tales.
Shooting stars.
                 Every night. 
 Any night you want. After the fireflies, but before the june bugs. 

The beach. Boogie boards.

Playing pickle, sliding in the sand, trying not to get pegged. 

Waves: The science. The music. The salt. 

Feeling waterlogged when I take a deep breath. Remembering my mom calling it that.
The way she'd always take us to a pond around sunset, "To wash up."

My fingers pruned, so much more completely than bath time. 

Sand in my sandwich, sand in my suit. Sand in the car, in my sneakers, in my bed.

Dune surfing with Zack. Sunscreen on my back. 

Taking the boat down the channel, aways away from all the tourists.

Digging holes  with my feet. Letting the water evaporate on my skin. 

Body surfing. 

Fighting the current and failing. 

Sand sharks in the surf. Seaweed in my hair.

Blue, blue, blue is the sky. A crackling blue. 

No clouds. No wind, except sometimes both.
The ocean right before a hurricane, fearsome turbid and shards of stain-glass. 

The shore birds. The seals.
The horseshoe crabs, ugly, ancient and immobile--being dressed up by children.

My hair when it's bleach by the sun, hard crusty and tasting of salt.

The freckles I can't escape. 

The final shake out my towel.

Putting my foot through the last sand castle standing,
Bidding the tide take the rest.

Southern Vermont, you are my cold memories.
Checking the sugaring lines--that first time you go out collecting. 
Stars as you've never seen them. Clear cold, dead or dying. Corn fields in the moonlight. Pumpkins and gords in every shade of sunshine.

The smell of the cows, of the sheep, of the hens. 

How feral now, cat--on my lap? 
              Here, you purr.

A flat palm with an apple, a gratified horse. 

A old Holstein named Tony. 

Too heavy for one hand, the hay.

The last harvest. 

Sugar on snow. 

Two, three four steps from the door--shin deep and not even a drift. 
Icicles like cave formations, dangerous and thrilling.

All children with snow suits slide like penguins in the end. 
Lay on your belly and lick the ice.

Down hills in twos on plastic, brace your feet for that fence--painted white and white again, last summer--such a long way from now.

Gloves when they work, mittens when they don't.

The clouds parting to illuminate a clearing high along the other side of the valley. Making you think of old paintings, and of god. 

Mud season. When the river runs thick again. The first melt. 

The first growth, soft and promising--all the way back to the first frost--

Crystals on the pumpkins, their blossoms becoming earth.

Letting your cup of syrup cool in the snowbank before you drink it down, gulp after gulp. 

Heading home wet, smelling like smoke.

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Water Sports and other sorts

Got to say, never really been     t h a t    into water sports. No, I mean, I bought the rubber sheets and everything but getting wet just kind of pisses me off. Can't relate? Here, maybe this chart will help:

Evidence in suport of all your base belonging to me

So yah, making that graphic organizer is twenty minutes I can't get back. Everybody wins. But seriously folks, I just tried wake-boarding for the first time last Sunday. Well, and water skiing too, but that was my second attempt. Have you ever water skied? Way harder than wake-boarding in some ways. The most difficult thing was the full frontal wedgy I was so scared everyone in the boat could see.
If you digested the mixtape I made, you may have discerned that  in my youth I led a most nautical life. But most of that is crap. I'm more of a Spongebob than the Gorton's Fisherman, you can trust me on that..
All of my older siblings by contrast have been commercial fishing for at least a summer and one or two of them still fish professionally. And then there is me,  who's only sailed a handful of times and never been dangerously out of sight of the coast. I think most people look at the ocean and don't even realize it doesn't give a damn if it kills you. You have to respect its majesty and understand just how tenuous is our comprehension and control. It can still be beautiful while being dangerous. Many of the best nouns are.
To me, wake-boarding is just like skateboarding but instead of smashing your face on pavement when you fall you get water up your nose. I'm not going to lie, I rather prefer the trade off.
I'm told I did a 180 before I faceplanted so I felt sort of cool. I'm kind of addicted to trying again.

Like this picture of me water skiing? I call it, 'Dear god, I hope they can't see my vag.'
Yeah, it was on a river as you can tell, some place up near Euro Disney. Sebastien loved it.
Check out this badass photo of him:









It was ridiculously adorable watching him grin like a crazed child or a dog with his head victoriously out the window every time we took a tight turn in the boat. I wasn't a big, big fan of going as fast as we can. Never am. In fact, a few times I said, "Oh my death, oh my death"--which is what I say, in an unconscious way, when I'm fairly certain I'm about to die.

Other ongoings in my life include:
My second section of my French classes. The first teacher was really cheery and funny. I super enjoyed her methodology and was very sorry to see it end. I think I really dig into language classes because people are so impressed that they even understand when a joke is being attempted that they are more inclined to laugh--this of course brings the humor threshold way down to my level, as illustrated above.
 I think I'm getting better too, Frenchically speaking, since nowadays when I try to find a synonym to stir up a post up for youz, the first word my brain usually goes to is the orignal word's equivalent in French. Which isn't altogether helpful, but is probably normal, all things considered. (Plus ou moins.)

My bike is also sort of a big deal. I've recently discovered two important things about riding around in Paris. One, I don't get scared when I'm lost, unlike on foot. And two, the bike lanes that exist on one way streets going against the normal flow of traffic are awesome. I have a better time when I seek them out. Ok and three, people who ride scooters don't place much value on their personal safety. Or mine. Or yours. Fais Gaffe.
Even though it's a bit foolish to share the road with their likes it's way better than the  air-conditioner-less metro.
Mais oui, you read that correctly--
Part of me is like,  'Wow, the French are so practical--why waste energy when the windows being open will cool down the car as we move!!!" And then some frickin delay comes along and I'm like, 'Stupid ill-planned city, we're going to bake to death and everyone who ever smelled bad in their life is standing around me!' Tourists, don't act like this doesn't apply to you.

On Friday I went to a 'silent disco" where everyone wears headphones and chooses between three or four Dj's. It was only 12 euros to partake and a drink was included in the price of the headset so I'll probably do it again.

It was only about a 30 min walk back home after last metro and it was super funny to take the headset off now and then because it was kind of like being in a room of deaf people who were just screaming at random. No offense to deaf people--random people, that knock was at you.

I finally started reading 1984. I was embarresed to admit it at first but each time I have in a group there is always at least one person who hasn't read it yet. It's interesting that we can have such a cultrual touchstone that gets referred to and insinuated upon in ways that are fully comprehendable without having read it yet. I like it, but it's a little depressing. There's just something about dystopia that gets me down, you know?

No matter what, the summer is off to a great start. Bike rides, picnics, water sports, table tennis, spray paint and BBQz just to name a few. Sebastien's birthday is next month and I finally have an income to spoil him with! We still haven't picked where we'll go on vacation this year but we have it narrowed down to--well, we haven't narrowed it down much at all, frankly. But we'll see. I'm holding out for Portugal, Southern-Spain/Morocco, Istambul or Saint Petersburg.

 I'm feeling good, gang. The road ahead gleams as though gilded with sunshine. I can see it, and it stirs me, but I don't want to look too longingly because I've lived long enough to wonder with measured caution, will it tarnish as I walk?
The answer, I suppose, more often than not is yes...but up ahead, just up there, almost beyond what I can see--the road goes ever on in gold.



And so it goes.

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Cloud cover over all that you do

And so, my fine, feathered friends I have come at last to roost.
I know you're as involved with my ongoings as I am so I shall share them with you forthwith!.
I've been busy. As earth shattering as it is surprising, I know.

Well, I did the introduce myself v-log and another one for the KROD and my travel and work plans have been in a state of perpetual flux.
I was going to go to Munich last weekend but my friend decided to take a train instead of driving. I just couldn't drop that kind of dinero on a ticket to voyage to a place I could walk to in a weeks time. Less, if I'm feeling skippy. Plus, if Germany is anything like I imagine it, it's totally dark there 24/7.

I almost went back to the District WILLINGLY to teach summer school but I didn't want to have to cancel my trip to Tunisia. I told them I would, but judging from their lack of response, they wanted to hear yes the first time.
It's a good sum of money to have to pass up. But what's cash to a Gypsy Rover? (I'll just whistle and sing till the green woods ring)
I went on a job interview with Sebastien for a language school and we were both told he'd let us know by Wednesday. Their website is spunky and the chief seemed to enjoy my zest.  But I really have a lot to learn if I'm going to be a better teacher. (Those vagaries speak to my wanting to gouge my eyes out with a grammar spoon.) But I'm willing to try. (Read as: I am so tired of being broke.) It's exhausting.

My cash cow (such as it is) is gone for the summer as all three of my children students are going to go out of town for holiday. If things work out and I'm still here in the fall, we will allegedly pick up where we left off.  But I am not terribly optimistic at this point since they texted me this morning to cancel our final meeting before we call it quits. No ice cream for the kid-oz. Dez-o-lay.
That's just two of them though, the other is a high school student who doesn't want to learn english. She is pretty much the worst to work with ever. But I get a lot of reading done to and from her apartment.

Speaking of which, I'm rereading Angle of Repose. The framing story is just as interesting as the actual narrative--a fact which I feel speaks to the rarity of Stegner's capacities. Honestly, the first read through I was convinced it was autobiographical--but that's how dope he is.
Basically it's about a historian confined to a wheel chair, living in the souther california durring the sixties. Obviously he's a curmudgeon who doesn't understand these long hair freaky people.  And yet, he spins quite a tale of the west when it was still young and muddy based on grandmother's correspondences, art, and interviews.
You've heard me mention Edward Abbey, a few times, if you've been paying attention. Wallace Stegner was a major influence on his writing. (He was, in fact, his professor) So if you like engineering, ecology, art, displaced New England intellectuals, building shit, or letter writing, this is a great book for you.

I've been cleaning like a mad villain because Seba's parents are coming into Paris for three days starting tomorrow. I think they'll be bringing me that good, good floss, so I owe them.
Two of my coloc are moving out on Friday. We are thusly having a party for them that night. It's funny because one of my coloc has this long list of things which he keeps emailing us about and updating. I'm like, no one is surprised you're taking your own things.  You don't have to keep emailing me about it!
Anyway, it's made things a little sillier around here. You have to admit, it's kind of hilarious that he's telling us how many spoons are his. I personally can't decide if he was feeling vindictive or just wanted to practice writing in French. Neither would surprise me.

Sebastien teaching me the fundamentals of how best read in French. 

I am also going to be meeting up with a blogger friend, Matt, from, normally, I wouldn't say this but.. And he's going to be crashing at our place with a friend of his for the weekend. Check out his trip blog here.

I have two more classes to teach on Friday, and after that just one more week slash chance to save money for my trip to Africa before I am off. It is entirely possible that I won't be able to reenter France from Tunisia. But I'm still planing to try, and I'm hoping for the best.  I have a layover in Italy, which is pretty cool because I've never been there.

July should hold some upcoming fun for me. I want to go camping in the Alps and visiting in Germany. (Hey, it could happen). I wanna do more bike trips and tons more cook outs. I'll also visit la sud because I have important people to see in Nice and in Bordeaux. And they have pools.

J't'ai cassé !

I've never read Game of Thrones but I am totally digging the series. In all seriousness, I by no means go for long hair dudes. But it must be said: HBO is the best place to go for high production soft core porn. And Game of Thrones even throws in English accents! (Yes, I know; Rome) Well, think of it as part two. With less red and gold more snow and black.

Sebastien and I have started a second edition D and D game with some peeps and it's going pretty sweet.  It was weird at first, since we're not 45 or whatever they are. But I'm bubbly as a mo-fo when I'm nervous, so we soon won them over.
In game, I'm a spell caster. It's great when your conjurations always work. Makes you feel like you didn't just waste your action. Take that 4th edition!

Also, I tried donkey meat this weekend. I'm gunna be that guy who says it tastes like chicken. Cuz it does. But to be fair, it looked like turkey.
Gotta say, I love eating with the French. I'm all the time like, 'Oui, I will have a different alcohol with every course. I'm pretty sure it makes me more fluent in your language!' Doesn't do shit for my enunciation, though.

I am Erin's complete lack of enunciation.

Ah well, I guess a lot of those rotten tomatos I made mention of in my last post are still up in the air, but even if they break on me, I bet I'll enjoy slipping around in the mess. That's just how I roll. (As in around in a mess) YUP.

Hey, you can check out my tumblr if you feel like it. I started it so I could post pictures and basically just be an ass. It's working out pretty well so far.

Sebastien's b day is coming up...but what do you get for the guy who already has me?

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