crumbutt

I'm feeling pretty crappy after getting my third rejection email for a summer internship. This one stings even worse because I even interviewed for it -- so even though I was qualified enough to merit a one-on-one talk with the boss, I'm not good enough at talking to people to make them want to share office space with me for 3 months. Super.

To make myself feel better, I'm buying train tickets to Milan. This is a long-awaited trip, and what's more, my Aquilana friend will be there too. My exclusive sources (aka other exchange students) tell me that there's not much to see in the city of Milan, as it is the business/fashion capital of the country and everything exciting happens behind closed doors. As a result, I'm going to dedicate my only full day in Italy to a day trip to Lake Como (assuming the weather cooperates) and go fishing for dashing Hollywood royals (aka George Clooney). I figure chances are good the lake's most famous resident will be in residence, seeing as I'll be there only 3 weeks after the Cannes film festival, and George will probably need a rest after all of that craziness.

Speaking of crazy, I myself am going to the Cannes film festival in exactly one week! It's hard to get excited about it because I have 3 exams between me and my train to Nice, but it is truly one of my dreams come true to go. According to those who have attended before, it is virtually impossible to see anyone important without accreditation (which I don't have). But being in that atmosphere will still be incredibly exciting, and spending 4 days in the south of France is really nothing to complain about.

learning in moderation

Things I am excited to return to in America: Classes that are about more than just dictation. Straight from my professors mouth, "Exams are an opportunity for you to memorize the course." Seriously? Not a single original thought in 9 months in the French university system! I cannot wait to get back to an education where thinking for yourself is encouraged, even if it means stepping outside of an outline in three parts. I look forward to interesting debates with my peers and with my professors where you can disagree and not necessarily be wrong. I've said it many times before, but it's worth saying again - I will never take my education for granted after this experience.

Things I will miss about Lyon: Guys who know how to dress. Case in point - the guy sitting next to me in the library today. It's not about being flashy or trendy, but being classic. A nice pair of jeans, coupled with a gray pullover sweater and smart glasses, and you are made. While I do miss going outside in my sweats every once in awhile, it's a small price to pay for a more style-conscious male population. And I don't want to make it sound like every French man knows clothes (there are certainly those who dress in ways too horrible to describe), the proportion of well-dressed, well-coiffed men is certainly higher in France than it will ever be back home.

leggo of my balisto!

A really strange thing happened to me on the way home from class today. As I was walking through Guillotière, Lyon's version of the 10th arrondissement/the South Bronx, a South Asian girl who was about 8 years old started walking next to me. I could tell she was trying to talk to me, but I was listening to my iPod and knew she was probably begging, so I kept walking. But after half a block, I took out my headphones, and she asked for something I couldn't understand in broken French. The only word I could understand was "chocolat", referring to the delicious Balisto bar I had in hand.

Balisto and I have formed a very close bond in the 3 months we've known each other. We were introduced on my Lufthansa flight to Berlin back in February, and we've been inseparable ever since. Now, while I dearly love the green and white wrapper varieties, the orange has a special place in my heart. I've had a hard time finding it here in France, but when I passed by Schlecker today to pick up a new bottle of hair conditioner, I saw it on the bottom shelf of the candy isle. I don't need to tell you how excited I was.

Now, back to my story. Needless to say, I wasn't very enthused by the idea of giving this little girl any part of my Balisto bar. It was the hour for goûter, and all I wanted was to enjoy the chocolate-covered cereal bar in peace. As I raised my headphone to my ear, the girl shook my arm, and when I still didn't stop, planted her feet directly in my path, forcing me to circle around her. Finally, she let me go, but it was certainly one of the more bizarre experiences I've had here in Lyon. That'll teach me to eat Balisto's in plain sight.

lazy sunday

It's been quite awhile since my last post, and I'm not going to try and recap what (little) has happened since then. I did spend last weekend in rain-soaked Paris with a friend of mine whom I met in L'Aquila last summer, but since then it's been pretty smooth/boring sailing.

I have started a homeward-bound countdown, and as of today, I only have 33 days left here in Lyon. While I know that I will miss it here when I leave, it's hard to appreciate every moment when all I can think about is how happy I will be to get home.

In order to remedy this, I'm going to start a list of things that I will miss about Lyon. But I don't want to create some sort of false, preemptive nostalgia, so I'll accompany it with a list of things I'm looking forward to about going home.

Things I will miss about Lyon:
The Quai Saint-Antoine market. Sure, America has finally caught on to the whole farmer's market/buy local/organic produce movement, but we will never do it quite as well as the French. This is the most beautiful, bustling, colorful market I have ever seen in my life, and it is right around the corner from my building. On Sunday mornings, the delicious smell of roasted chickens floats through the air above the Saône. Grocers hawking their wares shout "Allez! Allez!" into the crowded walkway between the two ailes of food stalls.

Things I'm excited to return to in America:
Television! As my cinema teacher has repeatedly told us, French television is horrendous. From the beginning, the television system in this country never made it possible to create entertaining shows. And, like many other things in France, television completely lacks structure (there is no such thing as seasons! how is that possible?). So, I am very excited to get back to February sweeps, mid-season replacements, and prime time television when I touch down stateside.

home (almost) alone

It's been a strange last couple of days on the host family front. After coming back from Morocco last week, I've only seen my host parents a handful of times. Last night, no one was around at dinner time, so I made myself some pasta (because I don't know how to cook anything else). The kids came trickling in and I let them share what I made. Tonight, the same thing happened - but I made a kick-ass omelet for myself which the kids could not quite replicate. Apparently my host parents are in Paris until Saturday - which is funny, because I am going to Paris on Saturday. This isn't unusual (they are often there for business) except that they usually tell me when they are going and my eldest host sister is usually around to prepare dinner. Last night she was at dance practice, and tonight she's nowhere to be found. Hm.

On another topic, tomorrow I will be having a little shindig with two of my friends from to belatedly and collectively celebrate our birthdays, which all happened more or less over the Easter break. This will probably be the last time that the whole group of my friends are gathered together, which really makes things feel like they are drawing to a close. I have six more weeks left in Lyon - and to be honest, I am totally ready to head home. Sure, there are things that I will miss about being here. But spending time with my parents over spring break really made me realize how anxious I am to get back home. I want to bring my camera with me as often as possible in these last few weeks and take more pictures of Lyon. I have hundreds of pictures from all the fabulous places I've traveled to, but hardly any of the city that I have called home for the last 9 months. After what has happened in L'Aquila, I realize that my everyday surroundings are not something I should be taking for granted.

ouar-za-zate? why, morocco, of course!

During the course of my 10 day stay in Morocco, I became obsessed with the word OUARZAZATE (pronouced "where - zah - sat") and set it to a rap that became the soundtrack to my tour of that beautiful country. It truly is one of the most magnificent I've ever seen. We went from the seaside promenade in Casablanca to the Savoy-like ski resort of Ifrane, from the labyrinth that is Fez's ancient medina to the broad avenues of Marrakesh that recall South Beach (even though it is nowhere near any beach).

The highlight, though, was certainly my journey via dromedary (like a camel, but with only one hump) to the Mergouza sand dunes in the Moroccan Sahara. The desert is a vibrant golden orange color which seems unreal.
Since I couldn't possibly narrate every single moment of my trip, I'll let the pictures do the talking. They'll be up on Photobucket asap.

vacation has rarely felt this good

It almost seems strange to me to be leaving on a 2-week vacation when I've been spending the entire school year bouncing around Europe. But I am very much looking forward to a few relaxing days in Paris on my own. My parents arrive on Tuesday, and I've convinced them to day-trip with me to Mont-Saint-Michel on Thursday before our early flight out to Casablanca on Friday.

Since I won't have my computer on me, I'll be old-schooling it on this leg of the trip -- but I'll be back in two weeks with lots of anecdotes and photos, I'm sure!