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.

Snails Attack!

Almost a week ago already, my aunt and her friend came over to visit us for a few days. It was really fricking awesome and we jammed and talked and hiked. They're musicians and were playing shows in Berlin. We went on this one really awesome hike to the end of the world; that's what it was called. Mountains framing on each side, massive waterfalls plunging to their death in throttling veins every few half mile or so. We went through a mostly flat trail, but had to cross several many rushing, icing (because that's a verb) and trecherous rivers. No exaggeration, man. And the season was rather early, so the bridges weren't up. After our lovely lunch of bread, cheese and whatnot in a grass and dandylion field with aged cowpies mixed down under, ominous clouds creeped up and about half an hour into the hike, it started to rain. It was mountainous rain, but we were seasoned hikers. We told stories, jokes, and I stopped many times to take pictures. Then as I turned my head to glance at the now gray mountainside with the waterfalls, I noticed an amazing effect of nature- the wind would blow the water falling from the waterfall across, so it was like a slight, thin cloud or another dimension scraping across the rock.

We got right next to a waterfall at one point, but first had to cross a particulary hard river. At first we went up the river a bit, thinking the rocks looked more promising there. They weren't. With leaping jumps, Steve had crossed way before us and was already snapping pictures. My dad got over a certain part and tried to help me. I held his hand, trying to catapult all of my gravity (well, myself) to that certain rock, and hang on. It happened so slowly, of course. And there were splashes, of course. Almost sickeningly slow, with me jumping, putting my...self into Fate's hands (or maybe it was their feet, really- you'd think Fate would get their hands pretty full a lot of times) and then my feet going down... down... descending... not making it. Ker-plunk. Splash. The sound of a failure. Whatever you wanna call it. My feet nerves suddenly so aware of the icy sock clinging against my skin, and wet stuff plunging deep into my "water resistant" new shoes. An annoyed "agh" immediately escaped my mouth, and then laughter. While all this is happening, the things that make people react, made me react. As in, my feet suddenly kicking up a storm down in that dog-gone French stream. Get up! Out! No! Wet! Dry! Move! was basically my brain's message. But of course, the whole thing lasted as long as a snap of the finger, and it's the kind of thing where you just act. The ending of the story was that I got up eventually, but actually didn't really get anywhere. My dad let out a puff of annoyance, and then we seemed to laugh. Oh yes, I was smiling. Jeans wet, but just a few centimeters up.

So I guess that place didn't work.

We went back to the main crossing place, where I noticed a bridge folded up. At first I just saw the wire railings and thought "Gee, what a bridge failure", but this of course was not the story. There were hikers, the kind that hit the gym at 5:30 every morning and that you find at nature parks, carrying those backpacks and wearing sunglasses occassionally and maybe even spandex in part. The river wasn't so deep, and maybe about.... 10 feet across. Probably less. The rest of the group (i.e. my dad and my aunt's friend) had gotten across, and now we were left to find the least wet route. There were rocks here and there, but none seemed plausible. Unless of course, we were to magically increase our leg span and/or have courage/bravery/etc. One of the 5:30-am-nature-park people (who was French, I'd assume) pointed me to a spot that seemed rational to cross, and we all sqinted our eyes, considering it, while I scrunched my mouth in that way when you know you have to do something you don't really want to, normally something physical. I had to step on a largish rock next to the riverside, then there was a apparently secure log maybe two feet away. It was mostly perpendicular to me, which was helpful. Then there was another rock near that, and then you get to the middle area and can just go across.


Steve was there, my dad behind him, beckoning me to "stop being a sissy". Oh no, they didn't ever mention the concept or word in any shape or form, but sometimes we criticize ourselves, you see. After procrastinating the daring steps, frozen with fear (okay, not literally) at the icy water just... a few feet down. I cleared my throat, made excuses to my dad's encouragement until the French lady came back and handed me two walking sticks, the kind not made of wood. She demonstrated how to get across, using some basic French, gave me an encouraging smile and I turned to the new scene.

Well. I would swing a bit, debating mentally whether to just bite the bullet and to the fricking thing, and then my brain got the better of me. Or actually, maybe it was the body. Either way, it took a while before I just took the leap. ...And didn't die. Amazing, I know. And actually, I wasn't all that frazed from the concept of falling in, because unless your whole body slips, it seriously wasn't that bad.

We all got over eventually, of course, and then proceeded to overcome several more obstacles of the same nature.

On the way back of that particular river, we decided to just go with the railing. There were four wires, perhaps almost 5 feet from each other. I decided to slide across the wrong way, because I felt the most comfortable with my two feet on the left wire, my left arm on the left wire, and my right arm on the right wire. It was slippery, slightly amazing, and scary-ish. It wasn't such a big drop, and I wouldn't die anyway. The water rumbled a few feet below, and my eyes switched from looking down, looking across to my dad who was nicely holding the ropes together a bit and looking straight. Biting my lip. Trying to breathe. Making irked noises. It was really like those rope course things in real life.


It started climbing after the rain stopped, and then the sun came out. It was looking more and more like a desktop background as we glanced back. Green mountains pretty much on all sides, white waterfalls carving lines, and then snails. They don't lie when they mention the whole France-snails thing. I mean, I haven't eaten any yet, but there were TONS up there. One there, then one over there, on the right.. on the left... up ahead, on that leaf, on the trail.... it was interesting to see their mucusy head ooze back into their... shell as I pointed my camera lens right at the sneezer.


The hike was described at certain parts as "very difficult" and I had to give it to these guys- sometimes hiking maps are acurate. We couldn't see where the heck the trail went after the top, and then noticed a slight trail-resembling thing curving up to the left. It was right on the edge, and as we hiked up it to check it out, you had to cross a waterfall to get to the next part of the trail. Frankly, it was pretty suicidal. The edge of the waterfall was right there, and even though the water flowing down where you would cross wasn't even deep, I wouldn't do that ever. Like, ever. So we walked down again and made our way back to civilisation.

We jammed a lot; it was really exciting to have other musicians with us. We stayed up till almost midnight talking about facebook and the Internet and music and it was just the best thing ever.

Tomorrow I get to play rugby in gym because my math speciales teacher won't be there in the morning. Should be fun, violent, and I might utterly fail. I've never played rugby. I've read an autobiography of a famous rugby player, saw Leatherheads, and have watched a good number of American football games, so maybe it won't be so terrible. I also won't be having French math for about another week, since the teacher is busy with his new....kid I guess.

English math exams soon... we have to listen to some tape and answer stuff quickly or something. Sigh. Sometimes I get very annoyed with this system.

I've revived my idea on doing a documentary, except it would be maybe a bit more Michael Moore-ish. I mean, there's no way you could even try comparing what I would make to his stuff, but just I'd list some facts, show stuff... I dunno. Imagining. Fantasizing.

Oh. And I've also been pretty interested in radio now. Like, being a DJ and stuff. In fact, ever since I was a kid I've sort of always wanted to do a radio thing. My dad would always play NPR in the mornings while he did the dishes, and I'd hear it before going off to school. We listened to A Prairie Home Companion on Saturdays ocassionally, laughing with our ears turned slightly towards the speakers. I don't know if I'd be able to not stutter and say stuff clearly, but I can try. One of my friends' dad is a DJ apparently for the U of M station WCBN 88.3 FM. So that's cool.

Me: So Claire... I might be on the radio sometime 'cause like-
Claire: Oh yeah! You told me about that! That's cool!
Valentine (other English friend): What station?
Me: 'Cause yeah. It's in the States. A college one-
Claire: So is that another one of the things you wanna do when you grow up? Be on the radio?
Me: Uh well sort of-
Valentine: When Amelia grows up, she's going to change the world.

51 days left. You know, the world can be pretty fricking awesome sometimes.

Plans.

Day 300!!!!!!

Ba-boom! Pit-choo! Duh-duh-duh crack!! Chooooooooo!!!! Neeeeeerrrrrrrr boom crackkkk!!!

Those are supposed to be firework sound effects. It was the first thing I thought of. So just imagine if you will, a bunch of explosives cracking colors in the sky like a kindergartner coloring with some sort of high-speed syndrome and then erasing it. ...Or something.
I have my English writing exams tomorrow, and then Friday off. I practiced today and I can now play pretty much all of my audition music (save for dynamics, high notes, etc.)!!!! I know I've mentioned it several times, but I'm just feeling very confident right now.

I know I said I'd try to do Chapter 2/re-write Chapter 1 today, but I don't think that will happen. It's already lateish, and I sort of don't feel like doing the thing to my brain where I have to somehow pump out my ideas (and with a suddenly messed-up keyboard, nonetheless) and force it to make something out of it. I have to do that on tests, normally. It's not so pleasant, especially just starting with that blank, white expanse to fill and that blinking line, almost staring back at you, daring to finally bleed your thoughts. Plus, it'd just be much easier to sit back and listen to the lyrics of the song you're listening to, or make a new tab to watch Youtube videos or search some random websites. Basically, procrastination with writer's block.

No, but one of these days I'm seriously going to wake up early and get some fricking stuff done that I've been wanting to do for a while.

I've had a few (well, like one or two) of my friends ask "How's Paris?" or something of the sort, assuming that "a year in France" would naturally mean "a year in Paris". This is simply not true, people. France is not just Paris. Paris is not the only French town. However, I'm sure many of you wondered how long it would take me/us to mention Paris. My mom brought up today the fact that it would be a shame to spend so long over in France and not go Paris. I agree. I mean, I've been to Paris before, and it was great. But we didn't go to the Louvre and a bunch of other stuff, and it was 4-5 years ago. So, hopefully we'll get to planning something for that.

Oh and plus, I wouldn't have to be one of those "Bonnn jerrrr, oo aye la...church? Er, parrdonn, l....l'egg leez?" tourists. I mean, no offense to those people; they try. I guess. I'm just being stereotypical and judgemental. And every tourist town needs... tourists, and the French/etc. natives to furrow their eyebrows, sigh inside and proceed to speak quite good English. And on the perchance (is that correct grammar?) that you did not understand what I was trying to try to say in French, it was, "Bonjour, où est l'église?" (Hello, where is the church?) But yeah. Fluency is an amazing thing.

I want to travel in Europe. I want to travel in America. Canada. I think it'd be cool to maybe check out Amsterdam, because we always stop there for our flights to/from France, and there's lots of biking and it just seems cool. Spain and Germany could be cool, but again this is just fantasizing really. Only 2 months. But it's not as if this is the only chance I'll get to visit Europe.

Dang it. Anaheim won. So did Carolina, but I don't hate them. But there's only one Canadian team now in the NHL playoffs, Vancouver. Oh well. Detroit should win it again, man. That'd be sweet.

I've decided now to end this post, but not before pumping my fist several times and even feeling a little regretful at the meer thought of 65 days left.

"That way madness lies" - Shakespeare

Happy Earth Day.

They actually don't seem to do that thing over here in France. I didn't do nothing too special, but I did remember how almost exactly a year ago I got this green and blue stretchy wristband from the Leslie Science Center from doing this thing in my science class. So I dunno, it was sort of cool knowing already a year has passed since that. And yet slightly scary.

I caught up with my Youtube subscriptions today, and thought I did quite well in the artistic department. I practiced the first part of my concert band audition music, and actually felt quite confident. I have most of the rhythm down (mostly triplets, the first two notes of which are mostly slurred), but am playing it sort of slow-ish and there's a bunch of dynamics and it has to be short tongued. And come audition time, my palms are sweaty, I suddenly forget how to play simple scales, I can't see the notes clearly, it's hard to hold my trumpet and once I make a mistake the thing sort of dies. But it's dang fun.

I also got a good guitar practice in and read a ton. I'm reading Fade by Robert Cormier, and am sort of getting used to the guy's style. It's rather... abstract? Fantastical. Extremely confusing and yet wonderous. Imaginative and yet realistic. It's such a good book though. It's rather.. um... teenager-like or + though I guess....

My dad and I's playing of catch across the street has sort of sparked attention. French kids staring. It's probably a sure sign we're American, but I mean so what? Baseball is great stuff.

What was I gonna say... oh yeah... I mean, yeah I guess stuff is going by pretty fast. It's sort of just a blur, with me not really caring about stuff, and not having to really. So, good.

72 days left until myself.

There Is Such a Thing as Too Much Chocolate

Today was a day of nearly barfing, high-pitched and 1950-like shouts of "Nestle!", a lost/stolen iPod and Japanese tourists. No, Melvin (my iPod) was fine, but my bro's unfortunately disappeared. It was insanely weird though, because the car was locked (or so we thought) and we looked pretty much everywhere. If it was swiped, what a jerk. Stealing ain't cool, yo.

As promised, we jumped in the car (very belatedly, of course- that's just my family's style) and drove through Europe to Gruyere and that Swiss chocolate factory. Actually, it was pretty cool. The tour was free, but of course on a Saturday they weren't really working. As for the nearly barfing part, I would advise you, and perhaps other future tourists, to not eat every kind of free sample they give you. I mean, I didn't even have every kind! I had, like, maybe 90% of the kinds (there were less than 30.. maybe 20) and I was regretting it. So I can only imagine the affects of having all of them. That's right- regretting eating Swiss chocolate. The key here is the quantity, though. That stuff is rich, sweet, deliciously addicting and rich again. But it's goooooddddddddd.

My parents, of course, couldn't resist asking the probably-fluent-in-over-5-languages respondant a bunch of questions working at the free samples place, so I was stuck in that room. Stuck with free, yummy and flavorful Swiss chocolate. But you know what they say about free stuff- it's not. So of course I had to restrain myself from too much of the soft creamy heaven and not barf.

Before the tour we got to watch these old films of Nestle/Cailler commercials and whatnot. It was somewhat amusing and interesting. One commercial featured what seemed to be a mother figure breaking off pieces of chocolate au lait (milk chocolate) to her/various kids, each time accompanied with a harsh yell of, "Nestle!" It was trilling and very startling at first, but eventually we learned to laugh. That thing was probably from like 50 years ago.

After buying a bunch of Cailler chocolate (hmm. I wonder if you guys had heard the name Cailler before?) we got back into the sunned car and drove a bit to the bottom of a hill. The hill climbed up towards a small village called Gruyeres, which had a castle, wonderful overlooking view and a whole bunch of Japanese toursists. I mean, I don't mean to be all racist here, but there were a lot. And it was quite noticeable.

The town was cool though. It was pretty much 147% tourist-influenced, to the extent that an 18-minute video on the history of the place provided indivual headphones for the commentary in different languages. It was sort of weird in a way, and also quite invigorating. We were all watching the same thing, and getting the same information, but sort of all in our own zones.

And so, after the self-inflicted tour of the castle and the fiasco with Zach's mp3 player, we went home. I took some pictures, and found that music was a good inspiration for this sort of thing. More specifically, the Red Hot Chili Peppers' album By The Way. I've snapped a few shots while under the influence of that collection of epic. My camera battery was way tired and I only have one more day of break. But I want to watch baseball, I'm going to blink and it'll be over. I have magical blinking powers.

/ 76 \

Prudence!

It is somehow already Friday, and technically the last real day of break. It is also somehow past the middle of April, which means I'm half way done with the BEDA thing. And just 12 more days of April, May, June, and a tad of July and I can blow this joint.

Speaking of this joint, I've confirmed the many stereotypes and expectations and exclamations made about French food. And that confirmation is basically that they are right, and that it is holy-crap-good food. I mean, yeah I am lucky. My friends said they'd eat lots of French food if they were here, and I think I might take that idea. Not literally, because it's not like I had been oblivious or ignorant or defying of that idea before. Seriously.

But today, when we walked away from that new French restaurant downtown, I had one of those realization things I guess. Well no, it was more when I was actually eating the food. And despite the language embarrassment factor and the fact that we were probably very obvious, noticeable foreigners in the place, that food was friggin' good. I mean, the steak was tender and soft and they cut off the fat parts and it had this weird gooby sauce that was sort of like a weird blob but that was awesome and then there were french fries and these awesome cooked leeks/artichoke hearts that I even liked. And they had spray olive oil in a plastic bottle that looked like shampoo. The restaurant seemed quite modern; cool, abstract paintings and a mixture of music styles. I thought I heard an English song playing, and there was one quite like George Harrison would play, except the slight synthesizer in the back and drumming would suggest a different era.

The waitress of course started out in French, but told us she could speak a little bit of English, which she went ahead and did, but then my mom asked for French. I guess I did alright on the communication standpoint, considering I didn't actually even say that much. The chef (maybe he wasn't the chef, but he seemed like the one) also talked in English nicely, and the whole thing just made me feel like I was in Ratatouille. The guy had a big nose (not wide but like tall) and a slight five o'clock shadow. My mom misunderstood what he said about the credit card thing, so she just had to walk up and say with a laugh, "excusez-moi, je suis.. idiote" to which they said several "no"s and then he said "don't verry" (worry).


Zach left early out of embarrassment, but I stayed and got to give my mom a mini French lesson. The waitress had also reminded my mom that it was "d'eau" not "de l'eau" (referring to water). The chef guy told my mom at the end you say "Mes compliments au chef" with the "au" sounding like "oh" almost. They gave us an IKEA container with little lichorish-flavored pill-like objects and we said au revoir and merci.

My mom and I also took this walk/hike around Vescancy and got several pictures of cows. It was almost creepy the way they followed me with their eyes. But considering the fact that I had been pointing a black object and shooting at their faces for a few minutes and staring, maybe it wasn't that bad. But cows are nice. They really are. I won't go into details about the rest of the hike, because really it's probably boring but we did have a laugh after one failure at the end.

Tomorrow we're going to Gruyere and this nearby town in Switzerland with a chocolate factory, as I have mentioned. Should be cool.... I still need to study for some tests at school and do some stuff. Algebra? Nope. Blues scales today? I wish.

Sev7enty-Se7ven

The Undeniable Conscience of Broken Pencils

Sometimes I fail at poetry. Sometimes is more like often, and often is more like always. Well actually, maybe it's more with writing songs. I mean, I might have an initial idea at first but the white page glaring back at me is just too much to take. And then I get distracted by admiring my perfect Dixon Ticonderoga pencil point and keep staring back. And staring. I mean, I dunno. There's just something about poetry that like seems to suddenly change the words and format and how you think and have to write it. But yeah, I know- poetry doesn't technically have any rules or anything. Just... yeah.

Today I woke up pre-maturely and re-read the 2nd Maximum Ride book. It was surprising how fast you can chew threw those books; you blink and you're halfway through. Formula fiction for ya.

I hypothesized today that your amount of sleep affects trumpet playing. Today I tried practicing but for some reason couldn't get my air moving well. I just... it was like hard to breathe through it. The sound would lag and not get through the instrument till after a few seconds, and articulation was pretty much a failure. But somehow I managed to play throw my blues scales and whatnot.


Still excited for band camp. The band director's gonna mail us the audition music.. I heard it's hard, but I'll be able to do it.

I also rode in the car to a nearby town with my mom to take pictures. It was really rainy today, and my socks got wet, but I got some great shots. I'm pretty much like in love with the macro setting. I got my camera lens right up to the plants to get the water droplets. I also got my camera really wet since it was still softly raining. It reminded me of those Mac desktop backgrounds. Unfortunately though, my dad's laptop is actually running out of space so we have to put it on discs and stuff. I've taken tons of pictures though.


Tomorrow I guess we're going to Gruyere, but for some reason I'm not that enthusiastic about it. I'm just lazy, that's why.

A seven and an eight. =-78-=

One of those books

{Right: sailboat on Lake Geneva in sepia setting}
My foot tapped impatiently on the wood floor. I leaned against the swinging door again, felt my shoulders rising as I took a somewhat slower breath and bit my lip. It's always the same. The same view as I look out, the same warm air, the same mountains, the same unknown people walking around and driving in stupid cars. I don't know why they're stupid, they just are. A mix of tiny 2-seaters and obnoxious American ones that make me wrinkle my nose. Ironic how I call them stupid when they have the smart car in this country.

Just 80 more days, I told myself. I slowed the foot tapping and proceeded to glare out into the French air. A sigh followed. Of course. I had been in the house all day with nothing to do. Nothing. I had homework, sure. But I didn't feel like it. So I just stared out the window, being glum at France going by and then blogging about it.The French kids did their stuff, talking and yelling for someone to pass them the soccer ball across the street. The baguettes got stale, there was nothing on TV and therefore it remained off, the Saleve just stood there, I again uncapped the red pen to cross off another day and I wasted time on the computer.

It all seemed so terrible to me. Just a while ago I had been uber excited for Pioneer band. It all fades. Always. Then comes back. It was nice watching life go by like this to a certain extent, but I hadn't been outside all day.

The trumpet lesson went as they usually do. My teacher was sick with a cold though and would blow his nose periodically. I learned some blues scales, so that's exciting. I need to work on my improvisation. You gotta have confidence, but not too much I guess.

I am currently eating the feet of my bunny. A few more chews and he's gone. I guess this is the "messed up tense" blog post. I was in past tense I guess... but now it's present. Well.. it was more like... some other past that I forget what's called. Sigh. This Blog Every Day in April thing would be easier if we were given like prompts or something.

I feel like I'm in one of those books. It's hard to explain what "one of those books" is though... it's like...Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants but sort of the other way around... or like when the people just have to see each other and meet but they can't and just have to survive. There's lots of hugs and all that at the end, and just yeah. I dunno.

:D

Yo!

I hardly even remember today. Perhaps it had so much that it was hard to pick stuff out, or maybe it had too little. Or maybe because we had to wake up so 'early' my brain wasn't quite so.. "ready". We had muesli for breakfast, which I don't even really like. The oats and grains and barley is all soft and squishy and soggy and I prefer a nice crunchy, firm cereal to digest. Plus muesli is just so tasteless and boring.

How judgmental of me. But after that, I was pretty cool with stuff. We took a small train ride, took a small boat ride, walked around, took pictures, ate food, then went back pretty much the same way, but the other way around. It was a tremendous day. So tremendous it was horrendous. The sun just kept... shining. And they say global warming isn't real....

The final destination, a small small village in France on the other side of the lake called Yvoire, had already been visited by us. But it was nice to show the Luners the place, and that was also where I found out my camera could do black and white and sepia. I know, I'm sort of a failing/slow photographer. So I would just play around with that and stuff. There were tons of people, so the boat ride was somewhat unpleasant. People that didn't strike me as first class-ish were indeed seated in the first class area, and of course there were those slightly weird but enthusiastic people that would "play" with their little kids in front of their friends' camera.


All the while, Allen would blow his nose, Zach would glower at the water, a water-skiier stupidly drove up right next to the big boat, we talked in English, took pictures and the ticket guys would come around to click our tickets. I felt like a tourist, but really it was nothing compared to how the Luners felt, probably. I mean, no offense to them- they are very awesome people. There's just something about having stayed in a foreign place for 9 months, as opposed to just having arrived there.

We had crepes for lunch, which were a success. We got to talking about college American sports, which literally made me forget I was in France. Ah. America... *glazed look in my eyes*

On the way back, though, we stopped at the cornavin to look at swatches and buy chocolate. Allen and Evelyn both got awesome watches, and we talked a bit with the swatch person. She was Portugese but spoke good English and French, but I had definitely heard an accent.

They're leaving early tomorrow, which stinks. I rather want them to stay longer. I mean, I don't even know them that well but for some reason feel at ease or whatever.

The band horizon looks rather good, though. The guy emailed back and he said I could audition, so that's good. I sort of have to wait a bit (well, to get back of course), but I'm still feeling slightly confident. I haven't had the most band stuff this year, but I'll probably survive.

I'm off to play Hearts with Allen and possibly someone else, and then a nice sleep. Or like yeah. I shan't worry about going back to school. It's just 2 and a half months, people. I've done 2 and a half months 4 times.

Chili Pepper French Toast

Today was success. We woke up latish, had a breakfast of homemade French toast, socialized with real people, had an unofficial Easter egg hunt and climbed the Saleve. The Easter egg hunt involved Allen (son/brother), Evelyn and I, the first two of which are Jewish. But you know, I actually have a few Jewish friends so I'm used to celebrating Christian holidays with Jews, or Jewish holidays as a Christian. I think it's rather cool, and as I've said, I'm not even hardly religious at all. Hence my plan/dream to become a Unitarian Universalist when I get back. But anyway, so yeah we found the chocolate eggs and stuff.


Zach decided to stay home (he was "tired") and so we jumped in the two cars and proceeded to repeat one of my favorite hikes. We had done the Saleve a few months ago, and you can get the full story (like, more than you want really) by clicking on this ancient post. It was hard and I was definitely out of shape, but it was rather fun, really. We had the 4 photographers again, so a few extra stops. It was nice weather, not too cold or hot and of course came with a complimentary lunch with bread, cheese and chocolate. Good stuff, you know. The bread was sort of soft though, the kind that's still hard so it makes your teeth uncomfortable.

When we got back, all tired and sweating in our mostly made-in-some-Asian-country shirts, we played cards, took turns messing around on the guitar and even caught some of the Detroit Red Wings vs. Chicago Blackhawks game. Anne (mom's friend/mom/wife) is actually an enthusiastic hockey player, so that's cool. Paul has an awesome camera that I am envious of, and knows some guitar.


Now I'm smelling of deoderant, tired and probably in jeopardy of too much chocolate. Wait. That was probably the wrong usage of jeopardy. But I don't feel like going back to change it.

I did my "best" at being social with Evelyn and Allen, and here it goes.

"So... do you like Harry Potter?" I of course knew the answer; who doesn't like that series, I mean seriously. There were those few people that say stuff like "Eh... I haven't read it." or like "I really need to read it!" or like "Nah." but generally I find that's rather rare. Alas, I wasn't disappointed with Evelyn's answer, who said a version of "yes".

"Yeah. I noticed you had the Twilight books in your room.. which is better- Twilight or Harry Potter?" Evelyn asked after discussing very briefly our Harry Potter opinions.

"Harry Potter, definitely." We then went on to discuss the Twilight series, luckily generally coming to the conclusion that Twilight wasn't actually all that good. She had a good point though, that if you like those kinds of books with lots of romance and stuff, it was good. Otherwise, it was eh.


I brought up the subject of Harry Potter again on the hike, but because of our ragged breathing and different paces, it was hard to socialize. They'll leave tomorrow, after we take a trip on the lake and stuff. I haven't been able to be on the computer much at all, which actually I don't mind. It's nice to take a break from the pixeled life.

The bridge is red! Climb all mountains!

Darn. What annoyance.

Actually, today was rather exciting. I slept in till around eleven, but it was the kind of "awake" where your eyelids are still sumo wrestlers and you feel sort of like you're under one of those massive-ish water fountains that spray large amounts of water right on you. In other words, you're heavy, you're still tired. But then the guests came so I eventually forced myself up and out after starting at the clock, groaning about how much the day was already wasted and closing my eyes periodically.

Real people are amazing. Real people that you know are awesome. Real people that are actually right there that are cool and that are real and awesome, are amazingly awesome. So, needless to say, I was excited. Real human beings!!! That speak English!!! That are from America!!! That go to American schools!!! That are somewhat my age!!! That are right here, and not made of pixels!!!

It was invigorating. It was inspiring, almost. And although I was even tired myself, I managed some conversation while we discussed about and flinged away irksome bees.

They were tired. On the way to Geneva in the car, the kids even almost asleep at one point. This was to be expected, but I tried to avoid looking at them. It was funny in a way, but also slightly unnerving in some respects. My dad would point out things on the way, like the U.N. ("What?They just said random stuff on the tour, like 'the bridge is red! Climb all mountains!"? - My dad after asking me about the U.N. tour), which I felt was a slightly wasted effort. Evelyn put in a few polite words, but mostly they were out. But we got there. Paul (the dad/husband) has a niiiiiice camera, and Evelyn (daughter) also has a good camera, and my mom brought hers, and I brought mine, leaving like 4 photographers.

We saw a Ferrari in fact. Walked around to the Jet d'Eau (Water Jet/fountain) and talked. It was nice to actually get out of the house and talk to real living people, but on the other hand I didn't know them that well and I was tired. But nah, it was great.

And yeah, tomorrow's Easter and stuff. I'm not even... I'm not even that religious. Whatever.

What! Wait. I don't.... I'll have the pictures up tomorrow hopefully. I'm annoyed about the inconvenience (too), but we'll survive.

Baseball season woot!!! I've been so out of American tv/sports it's sad. Maybe it wouldn't be so sad if I had been following European ones, but I haven't. So there. But just... just yeah. I'm not jet-lagged, but I think having new visitors are nice because it really makes you see how this whole thing could be new and interesting and nice and cool. I think it's just been so redundant that it's just... blegh. But this is good. They're not staying that long though. Darn.

Good.... night...

Edit: Kay, the pic's are up..

"Oh, I must look like a yeti in this getup!"

Man, again I have to post one late when I'm tired and don't want to post. I'm rather annoyed right now. The keyboard keeps jumping around. Also, I had to waste a bunch of time 'cause SOMEONE made me move because I was they couldn't stand the "noise" but then the Internet wouldn't work, so we had to restart to Linux and then skype didn't work and neither did Gmail video chat. And no one's on anyway right now, and I'm tired and we have guests coming in the morning and I want to talk to someone.

We just saw Mrs. Doubtfire. It was actually rather hilarious. Robin Williams is insancely great. There were those moments when it was almost painful because of the extreme laughter. Ah. If you haven't seen it, you should. And not just the new version or whatever (I think I remember seeing a commercial for one with Eddie Murphy or something..) 'cause classics always rule.

I had a long bike ride today. It was 16.6 miles and took like 3 hours. It made me annoyed but I got some cool pictures I guess. Oh yeah! The pictures from yesterday.. I'll have those up.

Not to brag or anything, but I just really like that top picture up there. I wanted to get a picture of the birds like landing and stuff, but they were fast so I just pointed it and shot. That's what came out, and I'm really liking it.

And yeah, there were lots of flowers and stuff. Macro setting is definitely awesome. Ugh, I really wanted to write some stuff today. Like actually write stuff. And I probably won't get a chance to tomorrow or anything.

Dang. Sometimes life sucks. But you know, just whatever. I'm a band geek. Not sure how that'll help handle the situation, but yeah. We sent an email to the band dude and hopefully he'll let me get in... I mean, really it's just a matter of whether or not I audition. It'd be sort of hard to from over here... worst thing is I just get in the jazz band at the other school. Eh. But the other school has an amazing band program. I mean, and I'm not just saying that out of.. patrioticity (I dunno what the real word is); it's won several awards in the nation. So yeah. That's what's been going on mostly. Band stuff. I guess.

Um. Brain sort of dying here. I'm frustrated. I just like.... wanna be with.. people (as in my friends). No no, not like that. But like.. you know? Just sort of be with people you know and just sort of talk. Like it doesn't even have to be about anything. Just.. yeah. I dunno.

Me and my International Peanut Butter

{Picture: taken in the tunnel with the fireworks/light setting on the way back from the skiing trip.}
I'm pretty bad about this blog everyday thing. But my mom's a writer, and my dad has complicated formulas and other jumble to make us squint our eyes at, so computers (laptops) can be hard to find in this house. I got very much nothing done today really. And to pretty much completely contradict what I just said before, I spent pretty much the whole day staring at a screen being "social". I actually wouldn't have done that, if not for lovely Michigan weather coming in and being itself. And you might wonder, how does something in Michigan affect, well, someone in France? That is pretty much the easiest question to answer. But that isn't the right answer. Basically, a snow day in April. Meanwhile, I ate mushy strawberries decadently sprinkled with sugar on the deck, admiring the yellow and blue sky, while trying not to be stung by French bees. Conclusion: the world is big.

Claire (French friend) is in Turkey with her Latin class till Wednesday. There was an earthquake in this Italian town my parents stayed in for like a year after like college or something.

You know who's cool? Jack Johnson. Sort of like a... matured? Jason Mraz. Or something. And Supertramp is/was cool as well. You should check them out!

What else to say... well the post just before this was supposed to be for yesterday, and I only forestalled the publishing of such post was because my dad was in possession of the computer and I needed to put on the pictures. I know. I live such a hard and strifefull life. Strifefull should so totally be a word.

Maybe we should all just make our own dictionaries. I mean, not like invent a whole new language, but just put together a combination (what the? apparently that word can't be plural) or something of different cool words. Or we could just not do that and wait for other people to do that. The English language now has like.. several more words than in Shakespeare's time, or so I've heard. I believe it. Conclusion: the world is big.

I wonder if France does lemonade stands. I haven't seen any, but I think I might have seen an ice cream truck pass once. I probably mentioned this before. Anyway, maybe it'd be... interesting to do a lemonade stand, and then completely embarrass myself by not understanding what the people say to me. And probably get ripped off and laughed at. But that'd be okay, since it'd make for a good story I bet.

Ahhhh procrastination.

Oh wait! Yes! Salmonella (whoa! I actually spelled that right on my first attempt!!!) scare with peanut butter apparently in the US. That was such an incomplete sentence. I had some peanut butter today, but I lived. The brand name was Mississippi Belle and had "peanut butter" written on the front in 6 languages, was a product of I.A.S. Corp. Piscataway in New Jersey but was imported by Bur Dist., Maisons Lafitte, France Gray's American Stores, Stockholm, Sweden. And yet, it did not taste like cooked regurgitated blue kiwi. On the side it says Product of U.S.A. and expires in 12/2009.

Gah! That Italy post never happened, did it? I thoroughly apologize. Though really, something tells me I'm sort of just apologizing to myself. But whatever. That's one of my top reactions/answers to pretty much everything, it seems.

Tomorrow, then. Hopefully I won't wake up at noon again. 88.

The different words for peanut butter on the container:

• Erdnussbutter
• Pate D'Arachide
• Mogyorovaj
• Pasta De Cacahuete
• Pinadakaas
• Mangyorovaj

That Poor Thin Boy

well why don't we sleep all we sleep all day sleep all day over and over over and over again

Well, we're back on the road again. Just passed a field of cows. They had, you know, their heads down, chewing in that mystical way of theirs. We're skiing in Champery, the place that was so hopelessly clouded over, so it was basically terrible. But my dad claims it won't be like that today. We're only going till around 1. I'm tired. We've passed the main side bump of the Jura on the left, so now it's sort of just farm/golf-like fields that are slightly slanted. Boring.

In case you didn't notice, I'm listening to Jason Mraz. Obviously I'm not tired of him.

Well, not much to write about. That seems o be quite a reoccurring theme. I really should be indenting these "paragraphs."

You know, (dang- I missed the indent again) I don't think I'll ever get tired of chocolate croissants. There's just something about them that always manages nostalgia, and at the same time, scrumtuous taste.

I could choose something to describe, like something I see out the window. Because then that "paints a picture" for readers. And "makes you feel like you're there". If only I had a metaphor! Then it'd just slide right in and understanding would flow to/from behind the retinas like water and grass on a non-slanting waterslide. It'd be magical. I'll make a note: metaphors=magic. So that means that people with good metaphors (*cough* like all my friends *cough*) are magical. And their readers just have to deal with it.

Isn't it amazing how someone could just move their pencil after perhaps pausing to look out the window and manage to write a whole bunch about pretty much nothing? I guess it's sort of like the writer just scraping off their dirty sole of their shoe. And I'm not trying to brag. I'm as befuddled at this phenomenon as you.

Hand aching- too many chocolate croissants. LATER, fellow April dwellers.

6 hours later:

Listening to Leddy Z while my mom tells us how they'll want to go to France again after we're "safe" in college. I laughed.

Gah, finally done. That was.. wonderful view but I got in a rotten mood. Seriously hungry and tired and "skiing" on a very very un-sloping trail. Probably the best part was the pictures- TREMENDOUS view. I'm tired, but had a thick sandwich and chocolate for lunch. The snow was mushy and rather annoying. We met up with the Pegs and my dad is going to whole day with them.

Getting on the bus was hard- imagine holding a half-eaten sandwich while holding a pair of skis and a backpack all jumbled up your arms. All I wanted to do was finish the darn sandwich, but no- the other skiers had to just stare and... stare. My mom is seriously talking a lot.

Pictures! Yes yes. So, I also took a bike ride today and was surprised to see a sort of French version of Suburbia. The first thing I said was, "Hey! It looks like America! What's wrong with it?" in a very annoyed tone. I mean, the houses were big, big cars in the big paved driveways next to big garages, birds chirping, a stop sign identical to one in the US (yeah I dunno- they have adopted the word "stop" in the French vocabulary) and the whole thing just sort of blew my mind.

Oh and by the way, the title of this post is reference to something that occurred to me on that bike ride. I saw one of those painted white figures on the road trying to signify like "look out for kids" or whatever. And it was just thin and small and yeah. I don't know.

I'd really like to live on a steady diet of a camera and iPod in the early morning, BBC news with the dishes, lemonade at noon, Ben Folds and Jason Mraz sometime in the day, bike ride in the afternoon and then some nice socializing. And get some solid jamming done somewhere in there. Pictures here and there as necessary. I also want to subscribe to National Geographic magazine and possibly even Rolling Stone. Money is money though, but life is life.

I seriously need more books to read though, seriously. I'd like to order John Green's books, and read that Uglies/Pretties/Specials/whatever series, and yeah. Need to keep up with the trends!!! I must read whatever everyone else in America is!!!! It's essential!!! Well, actually, I mean sometimes the fad can be trustworthy. But Twilight... just.... no. "No" is all I'm going to say for that one at the moment.

Maximum Ride! I keep finding mistakes in books, though. It's weird. I think I once found a mistake in Inkheart or something. I mean, not to brag. I just feel like venting to annoyance at finding "if I was" instead of "if I were" all the time. Correct English grammar is pretty hot in my book.

Oh ha ha- that saying doesn't really work with that. And yet it works perfectly. Ha ha! Anyway.

Nothing better than those 10-year old classic groups that fill you up with nostalgia even though you don't have the rights or necessary childhood memories. I mean, you can just feel the orange, worn piano notes being thrust into your skull. Ah. This one reminded me of Simon and Garfunkel/Crosby Stills Nash (and Young).
We're down to the 80's, in terms of days between me and an Ann Arbor ice cream cone. It's actually looking really American and English-speaking, so far. This break I mean.

Yann Tierson

Gosh.

Well, instead of sneezing up gosh's and omg's and dude's and all that bligadesh, I'll blog. Because that's what the youth today does; listen to mostly crapful music while typing up stuff on the internet which periodically includes improper grammar and/or spelling while pretending that the rest of us care while annoyingly chewing gum, wearing clothes that everyone else wears and yet complaining about the fact that their shirt is blue. And yes, I am a hypocrit. And aware that that was so stereotypical that I think a certain Mr. Pudhif's briefcase exploded into a million orange peels.

For those of you not entirely scarred (as in, familiar) with the many internet doings, April has quite a "Do such and such every day in this month!" theme. For instance, my mom first notified me of the Write a Poem Everyday in April (not sure if that's the exact name, but I think it's close- I mean, how many different variations could there be?) thing. Which I believe she is participating in. I, however, might put a poem in here and there, but I think I've made my readers suffer enough.

YouTube ----> Vlog Every Day in April (VEDA). They made "everyday" two words, as you can see. I know one guy who's doing it. However, the original was to blog everyday in this fine month of lions and lambs, so I think that is more appropriate. And I believe, but correct me if I am wrong, that Maureen Johnson started this whole obsessive everyday thing, so all credit goes to that fine lady. YOU SHOULD check out her blog. She's an actual author (though I confess I actually haven't read any of her books), so that means her blog is actually worth... worth. As opposed to *cough* someone's *cough*. Note: I'm referring to mine, if you didn't catch that. Yeah, I'm a pretty dedicated supporter of my internet life.

So anyway! I suppose I'll unformally and partially-undetectedly sort of participate in that. And it shouldn't be so hard, because about half of this month is break.

OH OH OH!

And guess what TODAY is, you guys. That's right- another important notch in my continuing (and seemingly endless) year in France.

Nine twelfths. Five sixths. Not sure if there should be one of those - things. I decided to do it (write down the numbers) English to challenge myself sort of. Well, I mean think about it- when do you, fellow English speaker, ever actually write down the numbers out? We learn it like once and then hardly deal with it ever again, save for maybe the pursusing of an English-Foreign (second?) Language teacher guy person, I guess. Ok enough.

But, really- 9/12 of the way done. I commonly associate 12 with 9, at least in math class- like with changing the common denominators in fractions, and common... factor... ness. You know? So 9 is a bigee. THREE FOURTHS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Wait. Yes! It's true. I mean, it's like actually April. I consider(ed) April to be one of those... sort of.. magical and rare and precious and amazing and fantastical months when I started this year. 'Cause I mean, really, it's like.... and I know I've repeated this several times, but really- the home stretch. Not the real one, but we're allowed false hope that is indeed not even false, but merely perhaps an overreaction, or stretching of terms, or enlarged optimism, but which of course turns out to become just plain hope and then sore mouths from smiling and then ending this sentence.

I feel like I've been neglecting this blog for a while. So it feels really nice to start writing in it again. I mean, there's never going to be another March 2009 ever again! It's gone! Done! I never have to stumble upon it again, and try to prevent myself from doing one of those horrid depressed, over-written blog posts.

And yet, I feel almost as though trapped in this never-ending circle of thinking I had something to say, procrastinate, somehow feel worse, never write, or if I do, it just sounds like everything else I've been saying and it's terrible and I regret it but then I describe the whole cycle in a later post and just

Yeah. But I hope, that by the end of this year, that at least some of you will sort of get to grasp why I was/am like that. Like, understand me and not just wave me off as some crazed teenager and pretend not to be related to me.

My back itches. It was seriously warm today, and we're going skiing tomorrow. Which is... eh. I mean, skiing is awesome and all, but at a certain point even a winter enthusiast like me wants to fully acknowledge the smell of fresh, bright green grass. But anyway, we got to watch this rather interesting film in French class. And I mean French French class, not FLE. It was one of those films that you often see at film festivals (here I go stereotyping again), but like... those.. I mean, yes, most would call them "weird", but of course it's art. It's not "usual" and often has those imaginative themes. Gee, what a horrible, strange addition to culture- imaginative art. I tend to not understand why some people don't like this stuff. Or at least appreciate. How judgemental of me.

But anyway, it's called "L'Homme Aux Bras Ballants", which basically means the man with dangling arms. And, by the way, the title of this post is the name of the composer/player of the music in the video. I actually really dig this kind of stuff; it really makes you think about stuff, and since they're short, it kinda fills me with this woody, nostalgic and gnawing feeling that makes me wish I could stay in that world longer. Kind of like when you finish a book like Harry Potter or something. Watch it. You'll be culturally enhanced. I mean, I guess we have this stuff in America, but I dunno it seemed more French. Reminded me of Tim Burton's stuff. I think it was inspired by a poem.



It'd be interesting to see what you guys think of it, you know. I thought it was pretty creative meself.

Um. Yeah. I was going to say something. Burnt out. I've probably already written too darn much. Tomorrow?

Lucky...

[Above: pictures from our snowshoeing trip in the Jura.]
It seems that as soon as you think you just rid of all, or at least the immediate suck in your life, something goes around and punches you in the face. Or really it could be the arm. This isn't new; life is long, (and yeah short whatever) and yeah we all know how it sucks sometimes. Often. But it always finds its way to affect you; even though in a way you make it affect yourself. Because it does.

Life was so much easier when I was on the same continent as probably the rest of my life.

"Ugh! Why can't we just have not been here for 8 months?" I grumble at dinner, forming my new anxiety about the next step in my education. My dad doesn't answer. Yeah, I didn't want to go there either. I've already argued too much about this trip, really.

But seriously.

Rennie: are you filling out your course selection sheets for pioneer and stuff?

me: er

Rennie: or something of the sort?

me: er

....no

Rennie: ok.

me: the only thing I did was the community application

crap I'm like dead

Rennie: no, you're not.

you should try e-mailing ms mackenzie or a counselor at pioneer.

me: yeah I'll do that

Disadvantages and inconveniences suck. Which I guess is really part of the whole definition and point of those words.

I'm almost done with 1984 by George Orwell and it's slightly disturbing. It's good; literally a must-read for us as a human species and existing beings, but sometimes books and stuff can really set a nerve in me. If I was living in Oceania with Big Brother and all that, I'd probably just scream all over "DOWN WITH BIG BROTHER! NO! THIS IS ALL WRONG! YOU GUYS SUCK! THIS IS WRONG! THEY'RE BAD! THEY'RE EVIL! NO! WE'RE ALL FRIGGIN' HUMANS! ON ONE EARTH! DON'T BELIEVE THE LIES!" And go on and on like that. Right in public. But I wouldn't actually last long like that, because they would immediately find me. But then right after I'm sort of finished, I'd just commit suicide. I know what you're thinking- "how is it that I somehow found myself reading such a morbid person's blog?!?!?" and all. No but seriously. I couldn't live with myself with the alternative. Of course, that's all assuming I wasn't brainwashed.

This video also got me thinking.

So, I'm worried/concerned about my education right now. Yeah. I wonder if you guys ever have been. I mean, my main thing is that like... after all those "stay in school", "you'll get a good job", and stuff and all that and stuff, I feel like I suddenly like.. died. On the school front. My friends are all fit in of course with the system, literally on the road to success. Me? I get a wonderful, new cultural experience that barely anyone else could have for a year, while my friends learn algebra.

Sometimes I get so mad.

Nah, I guess this isn't really new stuff. But I had to get it out. And then of course later, maybe soon, the perspective will lather itself down over everything and maybe it'll be fine? Sigh. Yeah. And Zach's friend is coming over tomorrow, so that'll be awesome. He's pretty cool. Missing school for it and stuff.

Celery.

Melanger Les Couleurs (and, not to mention, the emotions)

[Picture: vine-field we passed on a walk one time. I thought it was like a field of question marks.]

Awesome French group (my mom and) I found out about today: Kaolin. They also have a wikipedia article and stuff. And iTunes. I guess I haven't really been... fully "enriched" in the whole French culture thing.. I mean, school is a lot, but it's only one aspect kind of. I haven't actually had that many crepes and don't even go to French cafes or restaurants all that much. And now recently it's been the "it'll all go in a blink of an eye so do what you want before it ends" -season, so maybe I should start... French-izing. Or something. I have no idea how we're getting all this stuff back home... might take a few trips. But yeah.

Valentine's Day. See, when I first was reminded of this, I just sort of wanted to crack up. Just because.

Italy towards the end of the week. Next week, that is. And Zach's friend is coming soon. So that'll be cool I guess. Turns out my parents both know some Italian... which of course led to my continued speculation, criticism and observations of other languages.

So... yeah. Not much happening. I want to be putting up more pictures on this blog I guess. And stuff and stuff. Poetry attempts. I've taken up sleep-depriving myself again. Being the insolete little teenager I can be.

I predict after the break it'll sort of just be a snap of the fingers. A rustle of the grass. A whizzing blur. A blink of an eye. Just like that. Or at least, I hope. To a certain extent.

Sigh.

To Which he Kindly Replied

Well. It snowed today. Then it got melty. I saw Dan Levin twice during the week, which was really awesome. He got us talking about our school and stuff and stuff. It's gonna be weird going back. I guess.

Naked Baby Photos never gets old, apparently. I still need to try hard to get my thoughts sorted out at this rather pitch black hour.

Oh gosh; procrastination. I guess I'll just jump right in to whatever I was saying, which was actually just talking about the fact that I was jumping into whatever I was saying, but then again maybe in fact I had something to say, even though I kinda expected to just forget and ramble, just doing this for... for... I wanna say prosperity, because sometimes I like to use words that just pop up in that there place up there, but maybe that's not the right word.

{After about half an hour of doing other things}

So I guess what I'm trying to say here is...

I'm going home in a little more than 4 months, and maybe I'm rather excited and wanting to just throw this whole thing (as in France) in the dumpster like it was cardboard box, but only after opening the packaging it was in and playing in it a little bit. I want to be done done done. I keep seeing the end. I'm seein' it. I saw it on July 3rd, 2008. But it's actually real. It doesn't have to be a fantasy.

I feel like I'm one of those bands now that suddenly is obsessed with a theme, like... political songs or something... obsessed with having it just be done.

The theme of the 6th grade yearbook was to not count the days, but make the days count. I'll try both.

This break, again, kinda screwing up my perspective for the umpteenth time. That spells crud. It's called hard work. Ready? Disolving tongues. Missing the first half hour. Just staring. It helps to sit down, watch the show. Refreshing that's not a liquid. We've finally gotten to a higher state of neglect, here. Friends?!?! High-fiving because you have le pouvoir. Just so happens I'm pressing that orange button soon.

Dan's strategy: lyrics from a book

Slightly-Expected

New Year's Resolutions:

Use the computer less.

Become a bike-dude (i.e. bike everywhere).

Exercise more in general.

Practice trumpet and guitar everyday.

Treat everyone how I would want to be treated (and yet, somehow, remain non-cheesy).

Don't take anything or anyone for granted.

Become more selfless.

Write and read everyday.

Try to complete my sentences; not stutter.

There are probably more, but yeah (breaking that last one here sort of).

Well. Here we are. Never really thought I'd get here, much less this fast. But you gotta learn to just accept time I guess. It seems as though it always seems weird to date the papers with the new year, and you don't really ever think you'll get used to it. But then before you know it, you're already used to that new number and the past one seems awfully odd. Same with age and grades I guess. But you've got the whole year to get used to it, too.

July 2008: I hate this place. I will never like France.

August 2008: Ugh. So bored!

September 2008: School is hell. It's pretty much all hell.

October 2008: Ooh! A break! School is still eh. But I've gotten used to it sort of. Major weirdness though.

November 2008: Hmm. Trip. School is whatever.

December 2008: Hey, I actually sort of like this! Key word here is "sort of". And, wouldja look at that- half. way. done almost!

January 2009: ???????

Yeah, its not technically half-way yet, (only 4 more days about) but whatever. It's been a lot. If I were to describe the 6 months in one word, I bet you guys could figure that one out. Considering how much stuff I tell you guys. And continue to. I guess.

They say the second half should go faster. They say the trip is worth it. They say its a great experience. They say I'll like it.

The only thing I don't agree with quite yet is the first one.

And of course, no post is complete without a generic ending that is said often (every year) and therefore means little, but I mean, hey, I'm trying to be considerate here.

{Happy New Year}

No, seriously- have a good one.