My Fricking Breakfast

Oh, the stress. Oh, the excitement. Oh, the many boxes. Oh, the things left to be done. Oh, the not-exactly-last-minute-but-still-ness. Oh, the ohhhhh.

Our whole apartment (ours, not the whole building, mind you) just reminds me of someone moving. This makes complete sense of course that it would remind someone of that. Walls look naked, shelves are pathetically empty, fridge looks like it was ransacked by raccoons from the desert, crap on the floor (not...literal crap, but just general household crap), and this weird pit in your stomach but which is actually extreme excitement. Things are looking somewhat pessimistic, because apparently one can accumulate a lot more things than you would think in just a year. We already have filled 3 cardboard boxes with books and things that will have to wait till September for my dad to come back and get. For some odd reason, my mom decided that I can't use my backpack for a carry-on and insists we fold it up in a suitcase. And I'm having to share a different smaller suitcase for my carry-on. Gosh, where did my freedom go?

But of course, it might feel like you're brushing your teeth right after eating crackers now (one of my "metaphors" that I suppose is hard to explain- but just think about it- crackers generally cause much gook in between teeth, and then you have to brush them, but it's sort of awkward and hard and gah because there's just so much to clean. Get it?? I get it.) but in just about a month (perhaps a few weeks, but either way it's all just a snap of the fingers, a blink) it'll all be back to "normal" and we'll be "settled in". And stuff. So like, yeah.

I guess we all sort of experience that environment of your house/apartment/etc being cleaned and having to get rid of various doo-dads that you hung on for like 10 years because of unknown reasons. It's like there's this certain "moving season" for all of us. Then again, some people never moved. It's a strange feeling, and can really suck. Sometimes it rocks though. Take for example, if you were getting ready to fly back to your home after living in a foreign country for a year. Just an example.

Airports are of course more ugh now, but I just have to survive an 8-hour stretch over the Atlantic (during the day, so I don't have to somehow forcefully convince myself to try to sleep) and then about a 2-hour one to good ol' southeastern Michigan. Oh, yes I am fully aware of the concept of delayed flights, because if you remember right, our first one from Detroit about a year ago was delayed at least 2 hours from a storm. But hey, it'll just be a really really long day for me. Which is sort of cool if you think about it, considering I'm arriving in my favorite place of the whole spherical world.

We wake up at around 7:30, take the plane at 10, arrive around 6 pm France time, but which is really noon, and then 3 hours to Detroit is 8 pm, but which is really 2 pm, but of course you must add 2-3 hours for customs, waiting around, etc. So it's gonna be more like 4. 5. 6. I probably wouldn't mind talking about these things for the rest of forever, (I'm kinda excited. Can you tell?) but I suppose I should get back to packing. Sigh. Basically, as long as I arrive with clothes, iPod, camera and some books, it's all good. I can (probably) wait till September for most of that stuff.

Um and yeah. And then those last days are sort of hard on anyone, no matter what the circumstance. Well okay not really. But sometimes I just feel obligated or something to stare out the window and admire stuff more. Like, take it all in before I don't see it again for a while, or forever. But it's just sort of hard doing that, because you're just so used to seeing it even if you know you won't. Okay, there's mountains back there. Yes, the cars are smaller. People speaking French... pastry stores... people smoking... okay. Yeah, that same guy's walking down the street again. I hear yet another airplane take off. Nice chocolate croissant, but I feel like I've tasted these before. Yes yes, the mountains- I know I know.

Because really, at a certain point, maybe you should/can just say goodbye. Just turn your back. Been there, done that. People said it was such a "great opportunity" and my mom kept saying "people would kill for such an experience", but okay, I'm a lucky person and life is good, and no one was actually pressuring me to enjoy it all, even though I sort of felt like they were. Yes, I have learned life lessons. Yeah, it was worth it. Yes, I made friends and ate good food and went to a lot of places and learned lots of French and wrote some and took pictures and climbed mountains. No, I do not regret it. Yes, I did miss some things, and will miss things from France. Yes, I was redundant and continue to be. Yes, maybe I spent too much money on CD's. No, I do not like roasted squirrel. Yup, I need to say goodbye to my friends and give back some music. No, I did not do all the things I thought I would, but there's still lots of time. Yes, I am looking forward to seeing my friends again and doing cool stuff (why do people keep asking me this when we say we're going? Isn't this clearly agiven? I mean, come on!). The works.

Yeah um yeah. Yeah.

Stuck in a Tree

Today was that big day. Well, one of them anyway. It was that big day that would always go over in your mind, be forgotten, come back till it makes you sick, and then finally just... happen. Maybe I'm exaggerating. It was packing day, 4 days ahead of the flight, and it was pretty up to snuff. I dunno what it is though about packing, but it always seems to have this certain uneasy feeling go with it... knowing you're changing your surroundings, maybe forever, having to disrupt your "old" lifestyle and all... and also it's just sort of tedious.

I brought my iPod and the speakers into my room and at first just listened to some awesome PotterCast and this other Harry Potter-related podcast. Then GuyinaTie, and then some Beatles and Ben Folds (Five). I was not unfamiliar with the concept of blasting music, and took full advantage of this. I also had tons of fun lip syncing and *cough* maybe even some singing *cough*. The neighbors didn't seem to complain. My iPod battery is getting quite low though I must say.

I managed to get my main suitcase done, at just under 50 pounds to be safe. Then I have a backpack which has lots more space, and my trumpet. I also partially-filled another suitcase. Turns out I have rather a ton of stuff; books, way too many CD's, baseball/hockey cards I never used, and clothes. And then I still have clothes being washed right now. We have about 2 and a half -shelves worth of books, but we'll send them over anyway. My room is quite barren, and the only reason this isn't giving me that ugh-y queasy feeling in my stomach is probably 'cause, you know, I actually want to leave. It's sort of like when you were back in preschool or whatever, and you always had to clean up at the end. And it always seemed like you did a better job cleaning there as opposed to at home; just seems more organized and easier since you're not there at the time, which I guess sounds ironic.

I took a break after a few hours of packing/sitting there listening to music, and went out to "play rugby". I had read up a few basic rules from some rookie guide on the internet, and learned some stuff. In case you guys are ever interested, maybe I'll mention them sometime. The ball got stuck in two different trees from me kicking it, but obviously we got 'em out. The first time you'd never think would happen- I was a good ways away from the tall thick tree, and somehow it went to the left, bounced on two branches, and settled in a slightly indent. I ran to get the football and we jammed it out.

I guess the whole 4 days thing is sort of hard to take in, but in a way it isn't because I'm kinda just chilling and taking it slow- like my French math teacher always mentioned in lessons: "tranquil". I didn't really properly say goodbye to my teachers nor my friends, but you can't do everything in life.

Yeah, Michael Jackson. To avoid getting me talking about it, just watch this video. It makes one feel ignorant (hopefully not) but just watch it. Sums up what I'd say. Seriously.

I've gots to email my high school, eat dinner, sleep, go to Pierre's house, eat, sleep, pack some more, eat, sleep, finish stuff, eat, sleep, wake up at like 8, go to an airport, get on two planes, and then collapse. In a totally worth it-it's over-yes-hug-etc. collapse, of course.

Four. For. Fore. Fuor. Forrrrrr. Fourrrrr. 4!

It's Official

Last days are always rather bittersweet. Normally it's just a last day of school, and chances are you'll see those people again. But then again, people tend to move a lot. Sometimes it's just plain tragic; different city, different state...different country even. But there's always next year, another row of daunting tired hands slamming on alarm clocks, hoisting a 15-pound backpack over shoulders and a slightly-abused confidence. People leave behind stuff, they move on, remember faces or not, go over memorable and harsh days, maybe on an airplane. IPod blasting a nostalgic song, staring out a window. Knowing you should be saying goodbye properly, but just wanting to get away away be done be done and not exist there anymore. But the fact that you saw that guy's shoe, said "pardon" to that girl, all a continent away from where you would be. Your existence has been conscience in these people's brains, maybe they'll randomly remember your face or your voice. The kids that muttered "Madame Eclair" (Mrs. Lightning) as I walked past them, walking my usual brisk pace. Passing the same shops, the same tables and chairs, opening those same doors, seeing the same faces, wanting to be gone. Sitting on the cement ledge and writing "what's on my mind". Needing to blog, being redundant, not writing complete sentences. 6 more days, done with the French school system probably forever. I'm aware that some teachers at least have access to this blog, so I sort of feel awkward mentioning how I'm in fact skipping half of today and Friday....and skipped Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday. I need to pack, I sort of just want to chill, listen to music...

Oh yeah- Paris. I wrote a few pages about it in my journal, might get around to typing at least some of it up... but as I have in the past, I haven't. Lots of pictures. Countdown!

So Fast

Another day, another week-end come to an end. It was a good one though, and I know you'll get tired of me saying these things, but only one more left actually. Zach is, as I believe I have mentioned, actually leaving tomorrow and all. It seems sort of weird, and in a way I am kinda envious. Then again, it's just 2 weeks to sort of just chill out and attempt to "enjoy". We went out to the Ferney pizza place (I also ate my first snails there), raindrops starting to plummet as we walked back. Zach seemed rather joyous today also when we went to the Geneva beach, which proved to be somewhat nostalgic.. and cold. We hadn't been there for at least a year, and it's sort of one of those defining places for me and France (well, as in a trip to France even though it's in Switzerland). He's probably really excited. I would be. In just under 48 hours, these tan and red-colored chalets and modest cars, snotty accents will be American office buildings in downtown Ann Arbor, the cars more abundant and large, the people with annoying American accents, things way more familiar and hitting you in the fact constantly with memories and nostalgia, recognizable signs and words, etc. 

Oh my. It's been so long. 17, so this is day 348 about.

Well anyway. I'm actually extremely tired, but I just... don't feel like existing in France anymore. Well, not quite yet. But just... yeah. Still busking in Paris, another hockey season, football, band camp, high school, writing, friends, places, home, trumpet, nerdfighters, band geek, getting a job...

I know I said it 100 days ago, and 50 days ago, and also 30 days ago at least, and I'll say it again, but

Dude, it's like actually ending.

Musicians

Only 2 ones after this, I told myself as I got ready to go back to school after a 2-hour lunch break. It was Friday again; they were coming fast. The funny thing was, everything just seemed so short, but then there was this large stretch of memory, and it was long. I only have 2 hours of class after lunch on Friday, and they went by pretty fast and uneventful as usual. The real highlight was after- the last FAT Friday. And then on Saturday I had the CERN music on the lawn festival.

Bringing my fully-charged camera and traditional Michigan gear, I walked down by myself at around 5:50 to the church. I could hear music right away as I got past the supermarket, and noticed one of those bouncy, filled with air devices. A drumset with amps and speakers was set up on a mild stage to the side, with current pop music blasting out. Kids everywhere, throwing water on each other, screaming in the hot sun. Earl and his friend were there, Earl of course bringing a book. We waved at each other and talked a bit. I didn't see many, or any, people there that I knew really besides them. Sure, I had seen pretty much everyone at school, but some were in high school or just from a different social group.

The interns of course warmly greeted me, asking me not unexpectedly, "I haven't seen you in months! What have you been doing?" and me saying I was busy. Which was true, really. The interns are really nice, actually. Most of them have English/Austrailian accents and are almost or already out of high school. One of them even revealed a wedding ring during a concert later on, saying they were getting married.

For some reason I just always feel really easy-going and social with people there, especially the interns. I talked with Larry (Illinois guy), which was cool. He seemed to be the same as when I had left. I also chatted it up with these two other girls that I see a lot at school. We talked about the school and summer plans. One of them was surprised that I described myself as "anti-American". She said she went to Singapore a lot and thought the US would be cool. I just gave her the "McDonalds, big, lots of stuff" ideas about why America was bad.

It was rather hot, so I put my sweatshirt in the bag-area. I hoped it wouldn't get stolen, but it was pretty unlikely.

Jess and the gang were hanging out in the other room, and we sort of said hi and stuff. The social groups got tedious, so I just went outside. People in barefeet passing by, sunglasses, good music, seeing the yellow from the sun; it was seriously summer.

The socialising continued, and we ate dinner. Grilled sausages, salad, the usual. I met another intern, who had longish curly black hair and cool sunglassed, and who turned out to be pretty awesome. She was the kind that made the younger ones, such as middle schoolers, feel awesome. Well, they all do that really, but she was just.... funny, talkative, etc. And she turned out to like classic rock like me, and she had even been to Ann Arbor. "It was a nice little student city. I liked that." she said. She mentioned school of course, saying it really takes gut/courage/some other similar adjective like that to survive at the international college; she'd gone there.

One of the Illinois (Larry's sons) interns named Dustin started playing guitar and singing on the stage, which was cool. It was just background music for now, but I went up to listen. He was pretty good; they had a whole family of musicians.

Then the real music started. First was Jordan Quinn, who I had seen at the Rock FAT. He played sort of more pop-y acoustic guitar and singing, but it was still good. He's high school age, and seems nice I guess. Ryan played a few songs, and even one with his older brother. They sounded great together, barefeet and strumming guitar chords. One of Ryan's songs was a Johnny Cash cover, but which some would say was a Coldplay cover. Apparently the former died before Till Kingdom Come could get released, so Coldplay "wrote it". Ah well.

I took lots of pictures and video, and the guitarist of Hallway Tussel, another band with Larry's youngest son the bassist, asked me to get good close-up pictures of them. Hot dog! I thought- being asked to take pictures of a rock band. Pretty much one of the best things ever. Unless, of course, you factor in the fact that instead of listening to the music, you're focusing on capturing them... but I didn't mind. I think I got some good ones.

The last music acts (there were really only three) ended, and we headed inside for what was supposed to be a photo mantage. Technical difficulties ensued, but we still had a tearful goodbye to a lot of the interns. It was sort of sad leaving, yeah, knowing I'll probably never see these awesome people again. Dustin asked for email addresses, and I kindly obliged. I gave Amy (English intern) a hug, said a somewhat misapplying "see ya" and went home.

"Don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened." -Doctor Suess

And then today, I just went to the CERN Music on the Lawn festival with Joey. It was fun, but I sort of wish we stayed longer. There was one French band, that attempted an English song (it was okay, but accent-y) and then the rest was English. I saw Steve Goldfarb's band of course (The Canettes) and it was all pretty awesome. I got ice cream, and sort of wished I was with someone I knew better. Or at least with someone; Joey didn't seem all that keen on directly listening to the music. But I'm still glad I went. TOP has started, and apparently THE REMUS LUPINS are coming tomorrow. I am so pissed, and yet estatic. I mean, just gosh. Just geez. Just some on. You've got to be kidding me. My friends just seem to... I mean, it just seems like everything awesome is happening but I'm not there.

My day was also off to a bad start after checking the Detroit Red Wings website. I don't feel like talking about it, maybe later. Just...ugh.

Still two weeks (and four days). You've got to be kidding me.

I need a haircut. And click.

Tuh-day

Another unfair, happenin' day, but only 20 or so to come.

It really started last week, when I could change my schedule for math speciales. If you forget, that is my 3rd math class which is basically to help with the French math terms and stuff. Personally, I find it pretty unnecessary. The teacher said I could take off the class Thursday morning, so I'd have sport.

Now, this might not seem like such a big deal to you (and really, it isn't to me either) but I just wanted to point out something with this particular example.

About 3 weeks or so ago, I could have changed my schedule like that, but I would have had to have a different class after lunch, which would actually make my lunch only 1 hour, which is not fun. I decided against this choice because it was rather a lose-lose situation. Sure, I'd get to play sport or whatever, but I wouldn't get to sleep in that day or have a longish lunch. But I did want to have sport, because they were doing rugby and I thought that'd be cool; we don't really seem to do that in the US.

So, okay, I thought all was lost for that opportunity. And then of course, that ol' "everything works out" thing came along (strange it should come along for this, when it implies that everything works out) and I could do sport and not have to shorten my lunch.

So there you go.

Anyway. The excitement didn't stop there, of course, as after I got over the fact that even if Claire and Emma weren't here (who would offer translations, stick by me for exercizes, etc.), well, Claire appeared, but instead of rugby the bilungual and possibly trilingual class decided on soccer. But actually, I'm just going to surprise all of you, possibly making you jump out of your seats and/or have to read the sentences over and over and/or scratch you head, and refer to this ball-kicking popular sport as football from now on. Or at least in this blogpost. So there- we played football. It's actually just "le foot" in French, which kinda cracks me up. Little do they know, they're referring to their pieds. Hehehe. No I know, it's not hilarious at all.

Three teams were chosen after a routine 5-minute run and stretching, and I was picked more or less actually last. But at least I got on a team in which everyone knew English. Claire and Olivia were also on my team.

You know, looking back, maybe some of my football-obsessed (or maybe to make it even more funny, I could say foot-obsessed; I'm positive you guys are just rolling on the floor laughing. rofl) friends/people I know back in them States would be envious of me getting to play with, like, real European/French people. Ugh, that's pretty racist. But no you see, it's just that... I mean... I guess... Europe is sort of more.. foot-based and stuff? I mean, sure, there are awesome players in America and stuff, but can't you see what I'm saying??? Can't you???

Me and this inacurately-called-in-the-American-area sport go way back. It even stops way back too. It seemed like soccer was all the rage when I was around elementary school age, and pretty much everyone played it. This ravenous obsession (which included the near-fatal injuries of my fellow classmates because of pure parent energy- no I'm kidding) continued for a while, but I got off the crowded, now competitive train before I could really register the memories. Several many others continued, but I guess it wasn't really my thing.

So anyway, I wasn't one of those hot-shot kickers/head-butters/sliders on mud/rip up your jersey and look like you're giving birth after scoring a goal people. I tend to hover around the defense area, and probably use all the wrong techniques/etc.

But actually, it was pretty fun.

A mix of French and English begs for the ball, international grunts, swearing and head-butting. Lemme tell ya, those football players are pro (well, the pro ones are) for a reason- they're fricking good, and they're pros. What I mean to say is, some of these guys were good. Not to be sexist (actually, one of my French and non-English speaking classmates mentioned this certain thing after a later proposed game. She was all "sexiste!" with a French accent. It was exactly what I do in those situations [in an American accent, of course] and I suddenly felt like some barrier crashed down between us in that moment [though I think she was rather unaware of this connection]. I should have given her a hug) but I guess it really was most of the guys.

The thing I noticed about defense was that it was....hard. You want to just jut your foot out to stop their mad, grunting rush while they grab your jersey and you can already hear the other people yelling their name for them to pass the fricking ball, but then of course they move. They always move.

They'll go where you don't expect it, and being smart, you expect this unexpected expection. But then you go where you in fact don't expect it, which is really where you do expect, and they then go where you don't expect it, but really it was where you did expect it, because it was where it wasn't. All this time, I stare down at the ball and his jumbling feet, and then there's this little put and he's gone.

Practice would cure that (un)expected stuff, I suppose.

There was one particular case of the strifes of being a defender, which to this day (well, it was this day) I go back through in my head. Probably because I still have one, as opposed to what could have happened if I should have changed my decisions.

The ball was way down there that-a-way, you know, the end where the defenders don't really go, and when the ball is there, they're in cross-fingers and then get ready for a groan or jumping up and down. The other team had it though, and one strong foot pa-tooted that circular object way up into the AIR and over to where I was. It was high- but it was the kind of situation where you look up, get your brain aquainted with the danger, and then after that rare silence of a few miliseconds where everyone, and I mean everyone, tilts their neck, and then it falls. You can make some decisions before it plummets down onto the muddy grass. It got close enough to do a header, and I wasn't putting that option past the ability of any of these guys. I heard some yells of "you can do it, such and such!" and such, and I tried to position myself so as not to be so entirely out of luck. There was a split second where I actually considered jumping up and making the ball meet my hairy, hard skull. I mean, it was right there. I had my head all ready, and I just had to...whatever. But then I thought, "Nah. I don't really want to get my head crushed" and the other guy got it.

Perplexing, I know.

To avoid further needless details about this football adventure, I'll then skip to the next few semi-happening parts of my day.

After my first FLE class (I had two in a row after sport), a cat suddenly appeared in the room. And when I say "appeared", I mean that when I looked down at the floor, even the mere thought of a cat being anywhere close was invalid. And then I saw people looking down and my teacher mentioning something about not having fear. So my brain, after making some thoughts, told me I should look down (or I told my brain to look down?) and there it was- this furry, thin, small, dark, cute little meow-ing kitty frisking away in that foot-padding way only kitties can do. Someone picked it up, and I of course echoed the ever-obvious question in everyone's minds, "Why the crap is there a cat in here anyway?" I said it in English to a friend, and I got the usual answer. But then she said, "people live here, you know". Yeah, I dunno either.

We put the cat outside, where it hid rather scared-looking under a cabinet with people stroking it and saying various things. Then class resumed, and after a while we heard these regular cries outside; poor cat. And then I heard something like barking. Just, strange. You just never know what you'll stumble on in these French schools these days, eh?

English math was then fun, which involved much laughing, distraction and not work. I won't go into details, because it was sort of that "well, it happened with my friends and was fun. And you probably weren't there" thing. And then the spanish teacher wasn't there, so after lunch I only had math speciales. Pretty good day.

Oh and also. Zach is actually going to leave (yeah, like going home home) by himself this Monday. My mom was all worrying about it, and I too find it kind of weird. But I'll tell you what, this school system's just too weird. The grades stop after tomorrow, so........ but then we still have two more weeks of school....... and like..... yeah..... logical.... But anyway. My mom and I have set up a Father's Day present for my dad by including him in our 3-day Paris trip. I even got my mom to like the idea of busking over there. I mean, street musicians! Woot! So we'll see. I'm excited. We're going next Sunday till Tuesday, so I'll miss some school. But whatever. That, my readers, is pretty much the anthem of teenagers everywhere. But I really mean it this time. [...]

I'll now stop exhausting you with my 20-days left in beautiful France crap and have dessert. I'm tired, annoyed that I'm still here (of course), excited, annoyed again. Just in case you wanted to keep tabs.

Whoa, that post took pretty much the whole of RHCP's Stadium Arcadium (Jupiter) album to write....

French Collisions

This has been quite a busy weekend, for me and my friends across the big blue sea as well. On Friday we had dinner with Joey's family (guy in my class who's American; I dunno if you remember me mentioning him earlier) at their house, which was cool. We had actually been to their house before at a birthday party for another CERN person- Steve Goldfarb's band The Canettes played. They have a big lawn and a stream flowing right around their well-sized house. We talked about CERN people, the eccentricity of certain physicists, the economy, Barack Obama, human tendencies, and other cool stuff. It actually really got me thinking at the end, and I was planning on doing some big blog post about all my thinkings. Maybe later.

Then yesterday, after much delay and me procrastinating on the computer, we went to a nearby medieval festival. To sum it up in one, over-used and expected word, it was awesome. French accents, people dressed up as knights and monks and fair maidens, music, horses, creepy peasants, food, etc.... it started pouring after about half an hour, and of course we didn't have an umbrella. I couldn't understand my family though- I voted we just walk through it, because it's going to let up in a bit, but then we can be drying off at our destination. But no, we had to stay there, for "five minutes" to wait for nature to be nice. Eventually it did end, and was a pretty nice day the rest of the time.

We passed through la forêt enchantée (enchanted forest) and saw a cool magician, group of flutists that played with a story involving some French kid and playing a flute and some sheep or something, watched some horse-riding stuff, this awesome parade, had roast chicken for dinner, passed by knights and whatnot and of course watched the jousting. They had some fancy shops open, selling real and wooden swords, robes, helmets, etc. It was all rather expensive.

They had quite an elaborate set up, with tents and stuff and stuff. Personally, I think medieval festivals are one of those best things ever in life. I'd like to volunteer in one sometime. It also got me inspired to make a medieval-based movie with my friends. Not the first person to think of this idea, I know. But it'd just be fun.

I really only have 3 weeks left. That is seriously nothing. 24 days today. I need to practice my trumpet, finish up my homework, and maybe work on some filming. Probably all too soon I'll have to pack and saying my goodbyes to this fine country, eh?

Today the computer finally decided it had had enough of my overflowing photos, so I decided to finally back them up on discs. It's fairly simple business, but I guess I get a little nervous about losing it all.

Some of the pictures didn't turn out so well because the stupid rain had to mess up my lens. Which was annoying. But I guess it still looks alright. At a certain point I was using two cameras-my mom's was good for action, fast-moving shots, but mine was better for long-distance shots. I stretched my battery life to it's very limit. But it was an awesome day.