Just Some Stuff

You ever have one of those days where you do everything right? Get up before the alarm, maybe take a nice hot shower, but that's not too long, really brush your teeth in a way that would make the dentists proud, say good morning to more or less everyone, drink your coffee or whatever crap you have in a way that doesn't make people intimidated and yet boosts your self-esteem (like you could be in one of those Brad Pitt movies). Put on a nice outfit that doesn't need to be looked at in the mirror for several minutes before going out the door, not slamming it of course, smiling and greeting the rising/risen sun with a reverence that suggests woodwinds in the background, say hello how are you to people and really mean what you say, looking them in the eye. Make those "healthy choices" you always read about in your middle school health book- choose water over Coke, etc. Do the dishes/load the dishwasher, start the laundry, vacuum, whatever. Turn in your homework, don't lean back in your chair, make a nice salad, practice all of your scales, put back the silverware in the right place, do the dishes before watching TV. Etc. Etc.

Well I know I haven't. But someday I think I should.

Life has been going on, and I guess the only real news I have is that I helped organized/participated with this rally/demonstration me and some Quaker friends and other people had in support of Obama's health care reform plan with public option. There are a few articles about it on the Ann Arbor website and Chronicle, and it was actually quite awesome. I was one of the 4 teenagers there, and it was sort of funny one time when Lori, one of the Quakers helping us, came over to say, "It's so great we have young people here with us- people always listen to young people!" This, of course, is not true. And you know what I said? And you know what she did? "Well, actually that's not necessarily the case-" and Lori had walked away after about the first word. Hannah said she'd put that as one of her facebook quotes.

Anyone that's alive should really read Lance Armstrong's autobiography, entitled It's Not About The Bike: My Journey Back to Life, co-written with Sally Jenkins. I picked it up at Powell's bookstore in Portland (best place ever, man) and although you might not realize it, it can sort of change a person. Just...just read it.

School in a week. Actually I'm sort of excited. I mean, no sense really regretting it, it's gonna happen and life goes on. Redundant, eh?

Biking down W. Washington, the sun at that point where the day is nearly done but just wants to get its last kicks out, the late-August wind in my face and billowing out my sweatshirt, the best adjective to desribe it all was "alive". Ahead, a bustling downtown of a place I know and love, light still punching out. Cement wizzing below, a lawnmower humming. The sky at least two different shades of blue, and clouds...needing a metaphor. Even though you knew it would end, at least you know it's possible and you've been there. I think fall is one of the best seasons- which isn't saying much considering there are only...4. But still. I'ma liking it. Though it is somewhat...sad about the early leave changes and it getting too cold too fast. Sigh. Seriously you guys. And that's my best comeback to the problems in the world, really.

Oh and haha.

It's CALLED living in December, gosh!

So... new month, new blog post, new... whatever. DECEMBER! Awesome. Probably my favorite month. But let's see... I've been in France (Europe) for about 154 days, and there are only about 211 left according to my calculations. Then it will be 200 left. Then 190. Then 180. Then 170. Then, you get the point. All the way to 5 left. And then yeah.

7 more months, people. That's approximately 5,064 hours! And about 303,840 minutes. And only 18,230,400 seconds. Which will continue to tick tick tick away.

But enough numbers. 5 months... November was pretty cool I guess. There was Obama (W00t!!!), coming back from London,Thanksgiving, and uh... more French. I actually feel somewhat confident, or at least more confident in the French classes. I.e. it seems like I sort of can sort of actually sort of understand what the hell they are saying. At least, the simple stuff like "skip a line" or "learn this for Wednesday" or "your pronunciation is terrible and you said something wrong" or even "turn to page 194 and answer all the questions" etc etc. I'm not trying to brag, it's just that my brain has decided to let this click. So, perhaps French will.. can... is... cool.

School is eh still. But actually, I've gotten pretty used to it I guess. And life rocks (still). It's getting "cold"er and there is lots of white on them mountains.

What else what else... I'm still really into guitar and trumpet and yeah. I've kinda.. given up on the documentary idea. I probably have mentioned this. I'm just very busy. And it probably wouldn't... turn out... the greatest. But whatevz.

It seems like I haven't talked to my friends in a while. That is no.

Wait a second. Christmas is this month!??! For some reason I just... can't really.. feel the magic here. Perhaps it is the lack of utter gaggy unnecessary decorations. I mean, I've noticed a few lights and stuff that are probably trying to look like a sled, but these guys are pretty shy about it over here it seems. Oh and then there's my birthday. I'm not even going to try to think about that.

Ya ever feel like really inspired and like hyped up about something and all you want to do is get out of there and do it? I need/want/have to write a song. Or something. It's like maddening. Guitar! Guitar! Frets! Strum! Sort of sing! Lyrics! Guitar! Strings! CDs! Music! Yes!

So... Coldplay, along with Julia Nunes. Who I found out about by one of my friends. French hornian. But Julia Nunes.. she is very very cool, you gotta check her out, man. And... um... by "checking her out" I mean, clicking on her YouTube profile and whatnot... pixels...yeahhh:







Why does it seem like something major is missing here (in my life)? It just seems like I haven't talked to people in a while. But argh I want to chat and all but also try waking up early on the weekends. Fo real. Delemna.

Zach knows this one girl who can speak 5 languages. That just like creeped me out.

We have 1000 hits people. That took about... 2 months? Thank you thank you thankkkk you. I hope... well, according to the last poll this blog is "interesting". I try. I really do.

Food (stuff) of Life

I. ABSOLUTELY LOVE. PHONE CALLS.

I mean, like just gosh. Voices are SO COOL, man!!! Especially after not hearing them for at least 100 days. That was SO COOL. OMG!

Happy Thanksgiving everybloody. You know it's that time of year again, when Google/Yahoo has that turkey thing goin' on, the trees- they are a-explodin', those last few warm-weather enthusiasts get leaves stuck in their flip flops, the voice from the TV says something about "first and ten on the thirty-five" and Charlie Brown, there's a brown lump moving towards you in the air that stubs your fingers, which are already numb from throwing the first snow at your cousins and uncles and aunts and you find your grandma standing on your front porch. 

Ah. Cultural experience. That word again, I know. My Thanksgiving involved none of the above; instead I did a few math problems with someone who didn't speak English (she knew Italian and some French- it was very quiet) and watched English adver-tiz-ments. But that's not to say I hate it here.

Ohh yessss I DID just say that sentence, youse guys. You betta believe it. But don't kill me. Ohh yessss. 

Still haven't had pumpkin pie. But tomorrow, I do get to eat turkey and all that with the friends/family we met over here, who was there at the bar; this post. I mean, sure whatever it's a nice social gathering thing and all, and I get to speak English, but... I sort of feel like the odd person/family out. Plus they're older and stuff... eh whatever.

HA HA. Life is awesome!!!

And phone calls are like the best thing EVER. *hint hint*

(Be warned.)

Random quote of the day:

"I'm not going to eat you ..." - Monsieur Besson to that one guy that flicked him off that one time.

We cracked up again in FLE, 'cause M. Besson was just sooo funny. We got a few new students in FLE too. One of them, maybe both, doesn't speak English.

Only 217 days or so. And apparently there will be balloons?

Thank you.

Ock-toe-burr

You always know it's October when that familiar whiff of Winter-for-boding wavers around your partially-snotted nose, the crisp air, like crunching an October apple, finding it's way through your late-summer "coat". We're always lulled into this false sense of security that we can wear shorts in September, and then boom - we need those L.L. Bean washed-denim jackets. Halloween. As you walk to your car (or bike or just legs), your jeans suddenly become melting ice against your exercised legs and you can see your breath in the blue, cool air. Pockets come in handy at these times, but you're also throwing the old pigskin around so your hands can't waver there for long. College hoodies are in, and you're pretty well-adjusted to school by now. Your family sits around the TV set every Saturday and groans from noon to dinner; Michigan fumbled again. But there's a certain homeliness, familiarity. Loads of teeth-rotting, artificial flavors/colors wrapped in too much plastic, cheap and creative costumes, pumpkin pie, candles, cider and the turkey population to take a huge plummet are all on their way. This is when you smell the dirt from under your Michigan sweatshirt as you're friends pull you and that rough brown ball to the ground. Grass stains and Hail Marry's are in fashion.

I was going to take a walk today but got sort of... freaked when I saw that the apartment door had huge cracks in it, probably someone throwing a rock at it or something. I took a nap because I was really tired. Then got on the computer and chatted. I did some HW, but got bored. I didn't practice my trumpet, which was bad.

See, weekends are like the only real days of the week. The only real days when I feel like myself and can actually live. I can talk to my friends and follow American sports, which leads to perspective booms. I don't like going out of those perspective booms. I don't want to go back to school. I don't feel like speaking French. I don't feel like being clueless and helpless in a stupid system. I don't feel like Europe. Ann Arbor was just fine, it was. I just... don't.

I just went outside to play catch with the football with my dad, even though it was like pitch black. It was awesome though. I had lots of energy I needed to get out, so my throws were pretty good. It felt great to play catch. I should do that more often. See, that's another thing- I have no time for myself or free time on the weekdays. Except for Wednesdays, but that's to catch up on HW. It's just so inconvenient and controlling. It's like I never get a breath of fresh air. For a whole year. Well actually there's breaks. Thank goodness! But Zach doesn't want to go to London so I'll probably just hear him complaining the whole time. But at least it's a break.

Tomorrow when I wake up, I'll be out of the perspective boom and into Europe again. Sigh. At least it's only a year. Already a fraction of the way done. And I guess it could be worse, like my grades could really
matter. And I do sort of just have fun with it. But then again, you can only really have fun to a certain extent. But yeah.

Michigan lost. Not a surprise. I didn't watch it, but paid attention to the score. At least I'm an Illini fan too. I need a new hat.

Have fun with October. I'll try too. Wish me luck. And Go Blue.

After two months, I'm still alive

Hey. Well. September, eh? I always trusted calendars, but last I checked it was like June 15th and I was going to Washtenaw Dairy with Becca, Anthony, Nick and Katie. So I'm a little frizzed by the fact that my watch says it is 9-01. But in a way I am glad about this new month to explore, experience, and live in. Like a fresh clean slate, with all of that boring French summer gruel scraped off. But then I have a whole layer of the unknown, the probably-hard, and a new school. My french tests are tomorrow and then I have a half day and orientations at school. My summer was... I don't even know what I did. I listened to my iPod, chatted till one in the morning, blogged, wrote stuff, uh.... ate good food. Studied french a little. I was bored. I was weird-ed out. I still am. Stuff happens fast. I miss my friends. I want to make some new friends soon.

After two months, the number of comments on my posts diminished to a lowly 1, or more commonly, 0. It would appear as though I lost some readers, (gasp!) the commenting readers left, people just don't feel like commenting, or a combination of those. But anyway. Thanks again to all of my readers.

So now on to September. One of my awesome, cool and best friends is having her Bat Mitzvah soon, which is awesome. Zach's birthday is soon, and he's going para-gliding which should be awesome. School starts, which means people yelling at me in French, new kids to meet, and a looooooooonnnnggg day. I'm trying not to worry about the French tests. In fact, I'm not worried. I know how to write like one sentence in French, but whatever. I'll learn a lot. I just have to remember that all of this is worth it. At least, that's what my parents told me.

My birthday is in about 4 months. I'm going to be an eighth grader. That is like... no. Me?? 8th grade?? I should think not! I haven't even gotten to the whole thing with me being in France, let alone me being in 7th grade. Enough of that.

I'm like addicted (obsessed, etc) to Panic! at the Disco. They are seriously awesome (to me). I put a few videos of them under the links section I think. I recommend checkin' them out.

Holy crap. My hockey season starts on Wednesday, and I still need a hockey stick.

Wait a second. What the heck?! Where is - ? Why the crap is-? How the heck !!!! WHAT IS THIS???!!?!?!

Alright sorry. That was just a weird-ed out attack. I get those a lot. Take just a minute ago. I was chewing a nectarine, then stopped suddenly. I realized that I was in France, I was 13, I had no friends here, my friends were over there and not here, I was sad, this was weird and I was hungry, so I continued eating after a little.

It's weird, man. You might not get it, but my brain is still........ being shocked by the current situation. Because I can't ignore the fact that there is a huge hole/gap in my life, being my friends not being here. And that hole/gap may or may not be eating away at me everyday, I'm not sure. It'd be really awesome if. It'd be really awesome if I had wings and flew over the Atlantic and saw Becca and Anthony and Erez and Oren and Chester and my other friends right now.

I think that if I got a hockey stick and/or Breaking Dawn, I would be less bored. I don't like it when you treat someone who you would like to be treated, but they don't treat you how they would like to be treated back. Ugh.

Odd.

"Disclaimers" of the 8th month

Hey. Happy August. I'm sure yours will be a hell of a lot better than mine. And why you ask? Because of the many unfortunate things brought to me by the Secondary Easter Bunny (who comes around at this time). The Secondary Easter Bunny (who's brother, Gif-Bas-cket, got hit by a car again, though I believe he is doing alright. But I heard his insurance isn't the greatest) has brought terrible things. Things that would make a hater of Slauson into someone begging to go back to Slauson. Things that make a school week into a whole week of h-e-double toothpicks. I'll stop with the similes, or metaphors or whatever you call 'em.

See, starting August 29th, I have to go to a school that starts at 7:55am and gets out at 5:30pm. FIVE-THIRTY PEE- EMM. That is not a nice time to get out of school. Especially with about 2+ hours of homework every night, which will be mostly in a FOREIGN LANGUAGE. And then the very beginning isn't that welcoming, considering I take a frickin' TEST on August 29th, which is in English and in math. That test lets them see where I should be placed in the school. I have to write an essay and all that. UGGH. At least I get like a two-hour lunch, and I can go home for that. I also learned a few more things after our little "adventure" today. We got a car. A bright-green VW Golf. Pretty cool. So we were supposed to meet these Americans (they were from Dallas but didn't have an accent really) who would tell us about the school. We took about an hour getting there, because we were using a hiking map. Luckily I had a book with me, the first Maximum Ride. So I just read that and it was fine. So Zach and I asked the 15-year old son questions about the school and stoof. His name was like John. There was also their daughter, Jaqueline (I spelled that wrong) who had long blonde/brown hair with glasses and was like 11. She also told us some stuff. I asked John the first question, which was if it was "fun, uh, at all". He said sure, and the thing he liked better than the American schools was that they had lots of breaks and stuff. So that's cool. We asked him other questions, like about Fat Friday, which was this thing a lot like the Neutral Zone. It's a church, but isn't very religious. Kids aged 11-18 come every Friday during the school to just meet each other and hang out I guess. I'm thinking of doing that. He said it was really hard the first few weeks. His mom told us that he was really depressed and stuff starting out and then liked it after going to Fat Friday. He also plays trombone and likes band a lot. And likes writing/reading. It was also cool when I actually related to them, because his sister mentioned she wanted to do saxophone, and John said something about "ugh, woodwinds" and he explained about the "rivalry" between brass (woot!!) and woodwinds. I totally agreed. Him and his friends were having this sleepover I think or something, because at around lunch time two other teenage boys resurfaced. One of them was named Zach and reminded me of Batman, probably because he had short black hair, and his eyes were sort of in this almost-glaring position and was pretty quiet. The other one was named like, Pen? Ben? I dunno. He had that wacky hair that just sticks out everywhere.

So yeah. He said this one German teacher wasn't the nicest, but I'm going to be taking Spanish. And he said you share lockers. And the lockers are more square-ish. I'm going to be going to the College, which is the younger one. What else did he say...I'm definitely going to try out Fat Friday. Sounds pretty cool. And yeah. I'll try to keep studying French and trying not to worry about it. It's just school. I'm going to have to just put the grades aside and focus on the whole experience I guess. It's going to be really hard the first few weeks but, hey, I'm just human. My physical body will be occupying the space known as the school, but that doesn't mean I have to like, focus everything on school. I've got friends. I've got a mouth to smile. I've got ears to hear music. Who cares what grades I get this year? I don't even think the high schools will look at these grades. If I was back at Slauson, sure I'd care. I'm still going to try really hard over here, but I'm not going to kill myself. Easier said than done for me, because I have a habit of killing myself over school.

Eh. I can try.

I'll add the pics of the school later. It looks like a frickin' prison, man...