J'arrive en France!

I like to imagine that all of you have been sitting by your computers this past week, perpetually refreshing my blog, hoping, praying that I will finally post an update. Although most likely a falsely created illusion inflated by my ego, I hope that this post will not go unnoticed, because it is a pivotal entry: I have arrived in Saint-Pourçain-sur-Sioule, France. 

Leaving NYC was just as hectic as I anticipated, despite my decision to opt for a $60.00 cab ride from my friend’s apartment in West Village to JFK. We hit terrible traffic, and even my Fast and Furious cabbie couldn’t manage to maneuver around it. Finally at the airport, he dropped me off and five minutes later I realized that I was at the wrong terminal. Shit. I hauled ass to terminal 7, practically riding my suitcase through the airport, sweating like an American pig. I’ve always wanted to be one of those women who travel so beautifully—hair swept up, polished outfit, one carry-on bag, maybe a Chihuahua. But no—I am the frantic, frizzy, cursing, sweaty one.

Anyways, to spare you more boring details, I caught my flight. I flew Iberia into Madrid, a Spanish airline. I tried to speak Spanish a few times and it back fired. Sort of fell asleep, ate two questionable meals, and woke up jet lagged. More rushing. I grabbed my mega ninja turtle back pack, jam packed carry on and yoga mat (yes I carried it solo) and went through customs, more security, and then got on the plane to Lyon.  This is where I got really tired. So tired, in fact that I didn’t realize that I was sitting next to another language assistant. We made this connection when getting off the plane and helped each other through customs and baggage. Now back with my full load of luggage, I boarded the Rhônexpress, a train that travels every thirty minutes or so from l'aéroport Lyon-Saint Exupéry to le Gare de Lyon Part-Dieu.

Thank god I finally had a chance to breathe. I arrived at the station early and sat down and ate a delicious sandwich—olive bread topped with pesto, tomatoes and mozzarella. Then I found my train, boarded and fell asleep despite the screaming infant two rows behind me.  I woke up startled, just in time to grab my bags and get off at Saint-Germain-des-Fossés, the station where my contact from the school was picking me up.

I could not have asked for a nicer welcoming. He hopped out of the car, grabbed all my bags and drove through Saint Pourçain briefly to give me a tour. Even though it is a small and quiet town, it is undeniably charming and beautiful. Then we went to his house, where his wife was cooking dinner. She is superwoman. She was in her work out clothes, whipping up this French meal like it was no big thing. We had champagne, toasted baguette with a sundried tomato tapenade (home grown), some sort of vegetable soufflé that is apparently distinct to the Auvergne region, quiche, salad, beets pureed with cream. And of course cheese. Then fresh yogurt with a raspberry apricot glaze. I was so incredibly impressed, she told me that I can come over and she will teach me to cook things sometime.

So now I’m in my apartment, which is HUGE. A little too big, I feel like 14 people should live in here. But at the moment it is just me. My room is looking good, I tried to decorate it with all I have, and I hung all my clothes up. It’s a bit lonesome, but honestly nice to have some quiet and a place to put my things.  These next few weeks will be hectic; I go to orientation in Clermont Ferrand on October 5^th, and start officially teaching on October 10^th. Missing everyone, I promise more updates and photos to follow!

New York I love you, but not at 5 p.m. on a Friday with 150 lbs of luggage.

I suppose the title pretty much wraps up my updates, but amidst the craziness I feel compelled to write a little something, since I have been neglecting the blog here lately. I left Raleigh on Friday, groggy from too much wine the night before and tearful once again. It's funny how these goodbyes feel so dramatic, even though they are temporary. I just think that any life transition is bound to be emotional.

Despite days of packing with my sister, my suitcase was still above the limit, weighing in at a whopping 70lbs. This is in addition to a small rolling suitcase carry-on and a back pack that is stuffed so full I look like a ninja turtle with it on. Awesome. Long story short, I had to pay a pretty penny to have my luggage checked, but at this point I am getting more comfortable swiping my Visa.

We boarded the plane on time, but had to sit for over an hour on the runway because of weather, and I finally got into LaGuardia right at 5 o'clock, picked up my luggage (which had a big red warning tag on it because of the weight), and joined the mile-long line outside to get a taxi.

Whew, so fast forward and now I am in my friend's lovely apartment in West Village, eating oatmeal and feeling slightly relaxed. Even though I've never spent any significant amount of time in NYC, I feel so connected to this place, and it makes me feel oddly patriotic. It is the perfect way to exit the US. Not sure what is in store for today, lunch at a Greek restaurant (my friend and I are both half Greek and love to celebrate it) and then checking out some galleries in Chelsea. Tomorrow---France!

Au revoir Charleston

Hello Raleigh! Ah, I find myself here once again. I feel pretty on top of things at the moment, mostly because I'm fueled by delicious espresso, provided by my favorite Cafe Helios downtown. I left Charleston yesterday, and it was just as hectic as every transition I've made. I haphazardly packed the car so full, that I could hardly see out of my rear view mirror, my eyes were puffy from two days of crying, staying up too late, and stressing. I will be in Raleigh for one week, and then NYC for two days with a best friend from high school, and then...la France! At last.

Plans are coming together, and I feel secure, many thanks to the English teacher at the high school I will be working at in Saint-Pourçain-sur-Sioule. I will fly from NYC to Madrid, connect to Lyon, then take a train from Lyon to Saint-Germain-des-Fossés where I will be picked up, probably in a car too small to contain my suitcase. I should be able to immediately stay in my apartment provided by the school, and my roommate from Germany will arrive at the end of October.

I am so thankful for these solidified plans, but I have a few big things to do right when I arrive: set up a bank account, file paper work for health insurance, get my Carte 12-25 (provides amazing train discounts for people under 25), get a cell phone, and finish the processing of my visa with French authorities. No biggie right? At least the apartment is taken care of, because I've heard that finding housing in France can  be quite treacherous for Americans.

For those of you readers who prefer me to discuss issues in my blog, I apologize because the next few weeks are going to be crazy, and the blog will most likely start to sound like a journal--which really wasn't my original intention.

I have so many things on my mind, from here on out I want to talk a lot more about travel--not just where I go, but the process of traveling and how it changes the traveler. I think this is part of the reason for the anxiety/unease I am currently feeling, because any prolonged exposure to a foreign environment is sure to change you. The way you think, live, eat, sleep, all the comforts that I take for granted will soon be gone, and I will have to rely on my strength and good sense of humor to pull through it.

Oh North Carolina, there you go again, legalizing discrimination.

I have a terrible case of the Mondays. On a Wednesday. It must be the weather, or the anxiety surrounding the fact that I am leaving the country in a less than two weeks, or the fact that I can't stop eating carbs. And I had every intention of writing a cheery blog today, because all of my previous entries sound like a mix of Carrie Bradshaw and Daria. And it has to stop. But then, as I'm trying to pick a cheerful topic to talk about, all I can think about is the NC House passing the marriage amendment bill, and I'm feeling sick again.

I don't want to blog about those supporting the ban, who want to protect the traditional family structure and prevent the occurence of "evil lifestyles." And I don't even want to blog about those against the ban, who are infuriated from being labeled as an abomination because who they choose to love. (My opinion on the issue should be clear at this point.)

Sarcasm aside, I want to understand other arguments for the ban. Even if you are heterosexual, and think that a gay lifestyle is wrong, how does this affect you? This amendment would negatively alter homosexuals lives, and their dreams to share a life with another individual. And would it really help the proponents sleep better at night?

I think despite all of the other important issues (social and economic) to consider for the primaries in May, this issue hits everyone hard, regardless of their stance. because it is so personal. No one can define any of the terms necessary to formulate a proper argument: what is family? what is normal? are you born homosexual? where is the separation of church and state? Even if there will never be widespread agreement of these questions, at least establish clarity in a debate/forum/conversation. Decide exactly what you are arguing about. The issue is long-standing, intricate, delicate, and multi-layered; it should be treated as such.

Server no more

Last night was my last shift waiting tables. At least for this chapter of my life. Every time that I quit a job at a restaurant, I hold my uglier-than-sin no-slip black shoes over the trash can for a wavering moment, thinking, hoping that we can finally go our separate ways. But alas, once again I have put them on the shelf, because I know it's not over. Once a server, always a server.

Waiting tables is the ultimate short-term addiction because it is good, quick money with absolutely no commitment. Employees are disposable, but so are the jobs, so there is no pressure to stay anywhere you don't want to. My first job was at a small "upscale" Mexican restaurant called Uno Mas. Considering I had to learn Spanish and wear a man's shirt that was three sizes too big, I was expecting to make it big. Well, I made a lot of big mistakes. And spent quite a few nights in tears in the parking lot, amazed at how rude people are.

Years and a few jobs later, it still baffles me how people act when they come out to eat. People don't just come to a restaurant to satisify their hunger, they come to be served. Pampered. And I've seen it all--diaper changes on the booth, snooty teenagers shorting me on checks, toddlers crawling into the kitchen. For anyone who has worked in a restaurant, you know exactly what I am talking about, and I need to go no further. But for those who haven't, please take away these guidlines for eating out.

1. Tip 20%
I don't know for every state, but in SC I made $2.13 an hour. Before taxes. So essentially nothing. Never tip below 20% because your food took forever, because most likely it was the kitchen's fault and not the server. Gratuity is not just a nice favor, it is what pays the bills and keeps food on the table.

2. Keep your kids on a leash
If your child (no matter what age) cannot behave in a restaurant, then feed them at home! Screaming, throwing food, and table-side diaper changes are never okay.

3. Don't snap, whistle, clap, or shake the ice in your glass to get your server's attention.
This one gets me everytime. When you are running around like a crazy person trying to keep everyone happy, and the old man in the corner starts to whistle at you like a dog. And of course, all you can do is smile and respond.

4. Be friendly
One would assume that this is common sense, but you wouldn't believe how many customers I've had that think that "unsweet tea" is an appropriate answer to "how are you doing today?"

Regardless of my complaints, I know I have learned a lot by working in restaurants, and people take away many transferable job skills from waiting tables. Skills like multi-tasking, sales, communication, hospitality. Most servers are excellent sales people, without even realizing it. So to all you servers, don't be so down on yourself for not having a "real job."

Short-term addiction

If I had my own college, or was in charge of writing curriculum, I would definitely make two classes mandatory: Committing To Something For More Than Four Months 101 and Life Is Expensive 102. Okay, so the names need a little work but these are honestly two topics that college students have no clue about--and when they enter the "real world" the shock is enough to make them crawl back into their academic shelters where loans are dispersed like candy and nothing lasts longer than a semester.

Just think about it: no matter how bad a class is, it will be over in a few months. Your internship? Just push through the summer. Then you graduate and continue the same cycle: part-time jobs, traveling, teaching English abroad, Peace Corps, Americorps, grad school, etc. Sure, a lot of times this occurs out of necessity; you cannot find a full-time gig. But all too often it occurs out of pure terror of the real deal. Personally, I am the type of post-grad wanderer who always needs something to look forward to. I need change (big change) to keep me motivated. Something to work for. I see a steady job as a flat line, I need bends and dips to make me feel alive and important. So I guess I have two options: I can be a life-long vagabond with no stability or I can find a profession that is stimulating. Lets go with option B.

Next up, finances. I have worked since I was sixteen years old. I have definitely had the support and help of my family, but I consider myself to be somewhat of a self-made waitress  individual. But despite my facade of being an independent woman, in college I had absolutely no idea what it costs to support myself. I mean, I knew how much gas costs...and my cell phone. Beer is cheaper than liquor. Walmart is cheaper than Whole Foods. But I knew nothing about insurance (health or auto), filing taxes, or savings...it all seemed so very far away. The important thing is that I am learning all of this, even if it's a bit late in the game. College students shouldn't choose their profession based on income, but they need to have an accurate picture of what type of life they will have with the amount of money that they will make.

Dating is dead, and it's not our fault. Well maybe a little.

Carrie, cooking up yet another ridiculous theory.

Every Sunday my Grandad loves to tell the story about how he and my Grandma traveled all over Charleston and eventually down to south Georgia to get married. No, not looking for the perfect venue, I mean looking for someone who was comfortable illegally marrying two teenagers. They met, dated, fell in love, eloped, had three kids, and have been together ever since. I always try to get lost in the romance and nostalgia of the whole thing, but my critical, independent-woman brain screws it up every time. Didn't you want to...date around? Live together first? Wait--he was your first kiss? And they both laugh and smile, pitying my jaded outlook on romance.

But see, it's not my fault. The dating world has become a hopeless maze of disappointment, where no one is satisfied, mostly because they don't know what simple satisfaction feels like. But even the simplest, relationship-minded people can't find what they want because the dating market has gone completely haywire, and the game is impossible to play. Women are supposed to play hard to get, but not too bitchy. Give a guy what he wants, but not too fast or you're easy. But even if you play it all right, and things are going fine, is it healthy for love games to form the basis of a relationship?

The first and probably most influential factor in the dating disaster is exposure to warped media. I am the product of 24 years of exposure to fabulous sources of information like Sex and the City, reality television and Cosmo. And I suck it all in like a sponge, because somehow these sources of information have dictated not only how we date, but what we expect to feel when in a relationship. Because if your boyfriend is suddenly calling less and acting cold it means he has an emotional wall that you will eventually tear down, because that's what happened to Carrie and Mr. Big. But even if you can't parallel your situation to a Sex and the City episode, the answers are out there. It goes something like this: Boy meets girl. Boy likes girl. Boy does something that confuses/angers girl. Girl seeks out a magazine written by women to better understand men. And everything promptly goes to shit.

Whether a result of media exposure or an entity of its own, exploring a pool of endless options will ruin any chance of happiness. I don't mean dating to find out what kind of person you want to be with, I mean always ending relationships because you're hoping for something better. Often experienced during post-grad wandering, this will send you through cycles of confusion and heartache, when maybe...you keep ending relationships because you don't want to be in one at all.

On the contrary, many people are showing up to second dates that should never happen. Lowered expectations keep people in bad relationships for years and years, because they think at the other end of the spectrum: there are no options. This is just as dangerous as endless options syndrome, because they stick around, dealing with things, making sacrifices, being unhappy and wasting their time. The key here is to simplify and be honest.

You're moving where?

My favorite way to avoid a workout is to get caught up in an important activity that will make me "forget" what time it is. You  know, like organizing my closet. Then when I'm sure I've wasted the perfect amount of time, I will look out the window and damnit! It's too dark to go running. Works like magic. Having admitted that, I can't very well blog about my new running shoes and how I am going to get in the best shape of my life while wearing them. But I can blog about France.

When I received my work contract to teach in France, I hit google hard, trying to figure out where...and what Saint-Pourçain-sur-Sioule is. Much to my dismay, I could hardly find anything about this village, it is even absent on most maps! So..yikes. I thought. I'm going to be stranded in the French sticks, with no running water or paved roads. And then ah-ha! A website. Which led to another website, and so on. Slowly the internet convinced me that all was not lost, but life in Saint-Pourçain-sur-Sioule is definitely quiet, with a population around 5,000. 

France is divided up into 27 administrative regions, 22 in mainland France and 5 overseas. From what I understand, these regions hold little legislative power; they levy their own taxes and are mostly responsible for building and maintaining public high schools. Each region is then divided into departments, which are divided into arrondissements, then cantons which finally consist of a number of communes. My town is identified in the Auvergne region, the department Allier, the arrondissement Moulins, canton Saint-Pourçain-sur-Sioule and commune Pays Saint-Pourcinois.

Not that any of that means much to me right now. For the moment I am much more concerned about finding a converter for my laptop and minimizing the weight of my suitcase. Twenty days til departure!

The top five reasons your pants don't fit

Sometimes it is impossible to think about anything other than weight. Seriously, I just watched the news for an hour and all I can think about is the number on the scale, how to get it down, and how to keep it there. As far as weight goes, I consider myself to be a typical American woman. I do (almost) everything right, and consistently fail to get the results that I want. I work out regularly. I don't eat fast food. I count calories. I avoid carbs. And I watch IQ lowering reality TV shows where skinny girls prance around to encourage my efforts.

So why can't I reach my goals? I really want to find a balance where I am living, eating well and maintaining my optimal weight (about 15lbs less than I am now) but it seems no matter how I spin it, the ultimatum remains the same: get big or starve.

One thing I love about traveling is that it gives you the opportunity to explore not only the cuisine of another culture, but also the way people eat. How they weave it into their lives--for celebrations, daily nourishment, for comfort. The last time I was in France, I was fascinated by how thin the women were, but yet they were still eating, and there was no talks of gym memberships, juice cleanses, etc. It just all seemed so moderate, balanced, and appealing. From this standpoint, it seems that if we can make slight edits to our diet and physical activity we may finally get the results we want. Here are five things that could be keeping you from reaching your goal:

1. You drink (maybe) a glass of water a day.

Drinking water is so important for so many reasons. But I am always amazed at how much less food I eat when I am drinking 8 glasses of water a day. If you can't stomach that much tastelessness, flavor your water with lemons, limes, herbs or other fruit.

2. Your breakfast is small. And sugary.

A big breakfast is not for everyone, but it really sets the tone for the rest of your day. I usually do an egg or oatmeal, and sometimes I will whip up a smoothie with ground flax seeds.

3. You eat a meal while cooking a meal.

This is perhaps my grossest habit. Eating while standing up counts. Eating in the dark counts. Eating in the car counts. If you're like me and just can't stand to be around food and not eating it, sip on a cup of tea, a mint or chew gum to avoid eating two dinners every night.

4. The refrigerator is your dining room table.

Fact: Everything tastes better when you're eating it in front of the refrigerator, door wide open, no fork. But again, this is mindless eating that will squash your attempts to lose weight. Try to only eat slowly, sitting down, so you can savor a proper amount.

5. Two words: white flour.

Whenever I hear this I cringe, and with good reason. So many foods (especially when eating out) contain white flour--pizza, bread, croutons, desserts. And they're awesome. But these should be treats- not the basis of our diet. You can get the carbs you need from fruits, vegetables, and whole grains. The more white flour you can eliminate from your diet, the better.