Mes Belles Lettres

Hey You, with the Pretty Face! Welcome to the Human Race!

2012-02-14T00:00:00.001-07:00

On February 14, 1912 Arizona became the 48th state of the United States of America. Today, she turns 100 years old.

In honor of my beloved home state I'm going to tell you the following:

This winter has been more mild than last year. That fact in and of itself makes me very happy. It has not snowed in a few weeks now and the sun is often out. In the afternoons the sunlight comes through my window and makes squares of sunlight on my floor and on my bed. Sometimes I lay in those spots and I close my eyes and in my mind I can see the first house I ever lived in in Phoenix. The house on Edgemont.

The house was small and it had a west facing living room window. In the afternoons the sunlight would shine through the windows and make a square of sunlight on the living room floor. My mom tells me that when I was very little I would stand in that square and begin babbling, then I'd fall to the floor laughing. Yes, even at such a young age I was hilarious. My mom thought I would grow up to be a comedienne.

I don't recall doing that, because I was so very young. I do however recall laying on that floor. I can see it now. Mom's rocking chair, the blue couch that I threw up on. The wood paneling on the wall, Mom's Norman Rockwell painting. The front door with the small window panes that I always thought were stained glass. The wall paper on the hallway wall. The kitchen with our dining room table and the one stool we had at the breakfast bar. The sliding glass door. The screen door that had the hole in it that I am certain Shadow tried to climb through once and got stuck, but maybe it was Misty.

I can see the backyard, the huge backyard with the giant tree we used to climb that had that one branch that made the perfect seat. The garden with the fence that we had painted artwork on. The grass that we used to lay on and use Dad's binoculars to look at the stars sometimes. The swingset, back when it still had the teeter totter. We used to climb on that thing so we could look over the fence and see the movie theatre (Harkins 8), the Safeway, and the old empty Gemco store on the other side. The tree by the swing set. I never knew what kind of tree it was, we just always called it the bee tree because the flowers attracted them (and there was a hive in it once... or twice?)

The old lawn mower that I would sometimes push around the back yard and pretend I lived in "the olden days" before people had mowers with motors, and blades that were sharp and actually cut things (dad.). The chain link fence to our neighbor's yard and in the back corner, Misty's headstone.

Back in the house, down the hall with our pictures on the wall and then, first room to the left is mine and Alicia's. It's pink and I see it with the trundle bed. I also see the hearts my mom sketched above our closet. My little red piano that we used to pin a blanket around and I'd hide under it and pull the keys down so it looked like a ghost was playing it. The light, that I think hung from a chain. The next room is the boy's room, it's blue. It has the bunk bed dad made them, and the roll out little chair thing that mom left by the bed because Aaron sometimes managed to slide underneath the wooden slat and fall off the bed (a feat he could not now accomplish I believe.) Then my parent's room, where sometimes when I was a little girl and had a nightmare I would sleep. I'd lay there and listen to my mom snoring and tell myself to dream about nice things instead. The bathroom with the little window above the shower.

The front yard with the hill, and the plant that I just called the palm tree bush. Sometimes the yard was full of kids, sometimes full of terror. Either way, we had a hill, and we could pretend we were climbing a mountain. Or we could ride our bikes around the cul-de-sac. My pink bike that I named the Pink Panther. I'd ride almost every day. There was that time we were getting a huge dust storm and the wind was so strong we couldn't move forward and the entire sky was red and we loved it, but then mom made us come inside. You could hear the peacocks and cows and rooster from the farm, and sometimes at night the peacocks sounded like a cat or a crying baby. Sometimes the rooster would jump the fence and walk around our lawns crowing loudly.

All of that is bundled up in the little patch of sunlight on my bed here in Vermont. I close my eyes and I can see it. Then it evolves into my family today, which includes Madalynn and Jake, Korina and Jessica, Kyle, Shyanne and Jayda, and will very soon include Adrian. A different house, with different furniture, and different memories. That is my home. Warm, and full of sunlight, and things I can always see when I lay in a small patch of sunlight and feel the sun's warmth.

Happy Birthday Arizona. I love you.

SMF: Single Mormon Female

2012-01-27T10:10:00.001-07:00

A funny thing happens when you're a Mormon girl and you hit about, oh 23. Suddenly people become very concerned that you're going to die alone.

See, us Mormons, we're all about families. Moms and Dads getting married and having babies and raising those babies in happy healthy homes. It is an ideal situation, homes full of children that are taught to eat vegetables, that spend time playing catch with dad, that go to the park with mom. Parents that love each other and aren't afraid to show it and still have date night when their kids are teenagers. Everyone is happy together because they're an eternal family, they love each other and they show it. Very nice. I want that. I doubt there is anyone that doesn't want that. I think even the reality of family, sometimes kids throw tantrums and parents argue, sounds nice when compared to endless alone-ness. So don't get me wrong, I very much want to get married and have my own family.

The thing is that very often there is a disconnect between what is taught, and how the culture acts. So suddenly, us poor Single Mormon Females that have reached the decrepit age of 23 or older are in need of serious help. I mean have you seen me lately? I'm 26!!! There is no possible way I could get married on my own now. It's too late, if someone doesn't intervene I may end up single all my life and never understand that being a mother is important, that having a husband is great! I might end up like Sheri Dew, or worse, Barbara Thompson!

Surely I exaggerate. I doubt anyone would be appalled if I turned out like those two great women who have been great leaders in my church. Honestly though, when people start flinging men at you it can start to feel that way.

I know that I have an image in my mind of the kind of guy I want to marry. He will be Zachary Levi, but also Mormon. Perfecto. Now of course, there is a 99.999999999% chance that that will not happen. I'm okay with that. You know, sixes looking for tens and all that. However, there are certain things I want out of my future husband that I'm not willing to give up. So please multitude of well meaning concerned people that think I'm going to die alone, I'm only 26. So before you begin desperately shoving single men at me that are more than likely NOT going to turn out to be my one and only I want you to ask yourself one question, how well do you know me? The answer to that question is probably, not very well. Thus, unless you're friends with Zachary Levi, maybe you could give me a few more years before you start lamenting my shriveled up lonely existence and decide I should really take anything that is still alive and male.

Batteries Are the Most Dramatic Object

2012-01-17T14:48:00.000-07:00

Since I bought Stella in 2009 I have had occasion to take her into a service shop. Sometimes these occasions were not her fault. My brakes rusting can be blamed on the salted VT roads. Her new spark plugs were because a mouse ate the other ones. Sometimes it was because of general wear and tear. I've been pretty hard on Stella, driving her across the country several times since purchasing her, and I've put a lot of miles on her. This causes parts to get sad and need fixing.

Stella however, has always started. No matter what was wrong I could still drive her. Last winter when we had two solid weeks of temperatures that refused to go higher than 0 degrees Fahrenheit, she started each morning like a trooper. Thus, I have always thought of her as a good little car.

The day after I got back to VT I put the key in the ignition and turned it and... click....nothing. It took me a few attempts to start her up. So I decided I would mention that to the people at the dealership since I was taking her there anyway. After all, she had been sitting in a driveway without being driven for about six weeks.

Well, the dealership said they'd test the battery, but they told me the voltage was up. The girl said, "but if it keeps doing it, you might want to get a new battery." This response sort of irritated me because I didn't want to get a battery once I was stranded somewhere, I wanted to get a battery while this one had life left in it to take me to a place to purchase a battery.

Well, after one freezing cold Saturday night it took me 15 minutes to start her up for church Sunday morning. As I drove to church I thought I might need a jump to get home, and then Monday it would be time to call AAA and get a new battery. Stella however, did not agree with this plan.

After a good hour of trying to get her started after church I had to accept that it wasn't happening. It is such a disheartening feeling to leave your car parked somewhere and go home without it. I thought about her all Sunday afternoon and evening. Since I bought her in May 2009 Stella has never not started. Never given up the ghost. I turned over horrifying thoughts about her in my mind all Sunday. What if it wasn't just the battery? What if it took days/weeks to fix? What if it would be cheaper for me to just buy another car? What if, what if, what if...

Fortunately, I towed her to a shop on Monday, they put in a new battery and she drove me home beautifully. She may be ten years old and have some troubles, but I'm not ready to give the old girl up just yet. She is my first car after all. I hope she never just not starts on me ever again.

Punching in a Dream

2012-01-09T17:56:00.002-07:00

I feel like I'm not currently living a real life.

This life belongs to someone else, it is not mine. Maybe it belongs to 2009 Renny, or 2010. It certainly does not belong to me.

I went to church yesterday. I learned that some people didn't realize that when I said, "I'm going to France in the Fall, then coming back here in the spring to finish my last semester," that what I MEANT was, "I'm going to France in the Fall, then coming back here in the spring to finish my last semester." Thus the question of, "how long are you here?" And the looks of surprise and shock, and the phrase, "oh so you're BACK!" when I said, "until I graduate in May."

Maybe I am not back. I feel like I did after reading the 5th Harry Potter book, or after watching the second to last episode of Once Upon a Time. That couldn't possibly be how it ended. I must be in a dream. I went on campus today to print a few things, and I felt like I was drifting. I saw a girl that looked like my next door neighbor in Cergy and suddenly I heard her voice as she would lean out of her window and call to my roommate to see if she was home. Then I am not here anymore.

A funny thing happens when you become an aunt. Or maybe it is just when your immediate family extends itself out. I was teasing my mom the other day about how she loves my niece-let much more than she ever loved us. She concurred with that statement. It is true though. I miss those three tiny people a lot. It is harder to be here now than it was when I went to BYU and my little brother was five, and that was hard. I still can't get over the fact that he knows how to read chapter books, and he is going to be 13 in February. Of course he knows how to read.

I'm trying to settle in and get comfortable, and have told myself that once school starts I'll feel that I'm back in the swing of things. That is probably mostly true, but there is an odd shift. Like when you go to the eye doctor and he switches to a lens that is just slightly different, but you can't tell how.

I feel like I'm constantly searching for the place where I fit, but I never seem to find it. I always knew it wasn't Vermont, but with the time swiftly approaching that will bring my end here, I'm a bird whose wings are clipped.

Away, so spry, on clouds she flies

not sure where to look

she falls from the skies.

The search begins

for the fallen one,

it is too late

the world is undone.

Where to begin is not clear.

You cannot search,

she is not here.

The Wint'ry Day, Descending to It's Close

2011-12-30T22:52:00.001-07:00

Well here we are, mere hours away from New Year's Eve. Thinking back on this year in review, 2011 was an awesome year for me.

I had a few 'A's show up on my transcript. I worked at a summer internship that I found difficult and rewarding, and I learned SO MUCH, and now I'm crossing my fingers that it will turn into a job. I became an aunt x3 in July when my adorable niece-let was born.

Kindly disregard her shirt. She loves her aunt LINDSEY the most.

I went to Washington D.C. for the first time in March. I went to my friend Kathy's wedding reception in July. I felt a chapter of my life close as I watched the last Harry Potter movie (I read the first book in 7th grade.) I fulfilled a major lifelong dream when I moved to France in the fall and lived there for three and a half months.

I celebrated my sister getting engaged, and am currently planning her bridal shower in March, and wedding in April. I rejoiced as I had record numbers of friends get engaged or pregnant within a two month period. Babies and weddings to come, and I am so happy for all of them! (and am certainly going to try and attend a few of the weddings at least.)

Now I am at home where I celebrated Christmas with the fam, and next week, I head back to Vermont for my LAST SEMESTER of law school.

Time flies when you're doing hard things. I am very happily content with my life and the way things have turned out. Things have not been perfect, not everything has turned out the way I had planned. I've learned to pick myself up, clean off the scrapes on my knees, and keep on going. Wounds heal, and life has turned out so well so far.

I have a good life. As I start making plans for 2012 I am, of course, not entirely certain what my future holds. Will I get the job I want? Will my plans work out the way I want? Will things fall through? Will there be last minute changes? Will times get tough? Of course they'll get tough, and nothing is going to go 100% as planned, but I feel a certain sense of calm heading into the end of law school that I did not feel while nearing the finish line of college in December of 2007. I feel more willing to accept that I cannot control everything and that is okay.

I hope you all have good lives too. I hope you fulfilled a few dreams this year. I hope those dreams turned out to be more wonderful and difficult and rewarding than you realized. I hope you're excited for 2012. I hope you know that even if things don't go as planned, if you put your trust in the Lord, they will turn out just fine, and in fact, even better than anything you could plan on your own. He has band-aids and Neosporin for those scraped knees.

I hope that if you feel like your life isn't going well that you will know that it will get better. If you don't believe me, email me. Lets talk. Let me know if there is anything I can do to help. You aren't alone. The Lord loves you, and because you're a child of God, I love you too. So let me be your friend. I have a few band-aids too.

Happy New Year everyone.

Le Décompte Final

2011-12-12T06:31:00.001-07:00

One more week.

One more week of pain au chocolate, and croissants, and baguettes.

One more weeks of macarons, cups of chocolate, and French yogurt and cheese.

One more week of paninis, nutella, speculoos, and creme de marron.

One more week parlant français.

One more week thinking that every step I'm taking is being taken on la terre français.

One more week of L'Arch de Triomphe, Musee Carnavalet, La Tour Eiffel, Les Champs Élysées, les Jardins Tuileries, and walking along La Seine.

One more week is all I have left. People ask me how it feels. Why do people ask that question? I'm never going to ask anyone that question ever again. How SHOULD I feel? I feel sad. I feel happy. I feel excited. I feel stressed. I feel everything I felt just before coming here but now for different reasons. That is how I feel. So cue the Benton Paul folks, I go back to the States in a week, let the emo-ness begin.

There comes a time for everyone to find a place where they belong,

feeling alone out on the ocean.

Yours and mine are different, yet the same.

Go out and back again, harboring most of the emotion.

You climb aboard and sail away beyond the stars of everyday,

searching for some clear direction.

The shore gets closer every day, and clouds begin to fade

the compass reveals your destination.

Quand tu arrives a Paris, tu ne veux pas partir.

Quand tu arrives a Paris, tu ne peux que sentir,

l'amour, la joie.

Tu veux jamais rentrer;

L'amour, la joie,

tu veux jamais rentrer chez toi.

Tu ne passes pas!

2011-11-25T14:37:00.001-07:00

It's that time of year again! You know, when I start having nightmares about finals.

In college the dream was that finals had come and there was one class I had forgotten to go to all semester and was now going to fail.

During my first two years of law school the dream changed to me heading home before finals, and wondering why it was that I had forgotten to take my finals, and for some reason I could not go back and take them.

This year, that dream now has a French twist. You see, until this morning I had no idea what my finals schedule WAS. Even though finals start the week after next.They aren't the best with the planning ahead business here... So last night I had a dream that I went home and told my parents they never emailed us the schedule because I didn't have to take any finals. Then I worried she would send me the schedule after my return and I'd have to fly back to France over Christmas break and take them. I think at some point she did send the schedule but I couldn't read it. It was so frustrating and upsetting because I didn't know what dates I should buy my plane tickets for to fly back and take my stupid finals.

Hopefully now that I have my schedule I won't have these dreams any more. I'll probably have them intermittently until after my first final. That is usually how it goes.

Moment of sincerity? Today was somewhat of an emotional day for me. See coming to a different country and speaking a foreign language is hard, in case you didn't know. I have been really frustrated for a lot of reasons regarding this difficulty, and usually it is when I'm at church. I don't like that, but I have never felt more alone than I do every Sunday. It isn't that the people aren't nice to me, people say hello and smile and kiss me on the cheek and ask how my week was. It is hard to explain. I've just tried to remind myself that this is the same gospel and church I attend in America, and mostly I just focus on when we sing a hymn, because hymns are easy. It has also been really difficult not being able to go to the temple. I love the temple. A lot.

I have felt so drained. So last Sunday when the Relief Society President told me they would be having a get together Friday night at 7 PM I considered not going. After all, my French courses don't end until 8 anyway, and I'd get to the church at 8:15 PM and who knows how many people would be left by then?

Well you know how it goes. The time when you don't want to pray is when you need to pray the most. The time when you don't want to go to the Relief Society meeting is when you really need to go. So I went, and I am so glad I did. We were just making Christmas cards, so now I have glitter on me even though I didn't even use it, but it was fun! The Relief Society president had made cinnamon rolls and wanted me to try them and tell her what I thought (because they don't really have those here in France. They have variations, but not anything like what we call a cinnamon roll in the U.S.) As I was leaving she told me I had to take some cake home and packaged some up for me and I just had a moment where I got that feeling. That feeling you get when you feel happy and loved and not alone.

For the record, I am really happy I came here. The only way I would regret this decision is if the plane had crashed and I had died before this semester actually happened. It has really been a great experience. I don't really know how else to end this except to say that I know that God answers prayers. Here is a picture of Versailles.

Pour ma chère sœur

2011-11-17T03:06:00.003-07:00

Dearest Madalynn,

Please read this entire post with an English accent. Once Mlle Fraley showed us an episode of Asterix and the British soldiers all spoke French with thick British accents. During their tea time something obnoxious was happening and one of them said in the snootiest accent possible, "Je dis!" It makes me laugh just thinking about it.

Anyway dear sister, I went to London on holiday and I know how much you love England, so I thought I'd write and tell you all about it.

I took the train from Paris North to the London St. Pancras station. The train was lovely and the food was delicious.

I sat next to some highly intelligent women. Upon my arrival at St. Pancras I pulled out my map to find my hotel, stepped outside and saw King's Cross Station. Well you know how much I love Harry Potter, so it made me quite happy to think I was so close to platform 9 and 3/4. You really ought to stop being such a prat and read Harry Potter. I cannot consider you a true anglophile until you do so.

I found my hotel, set my backpack on my bed and left to take the tube to the theatre. The London tube is the cleanest public transportation system I have ever been on. The trax system in Utah would win, but it always smelled faintly of urine.

I exited the tube at Leicester (Lee-sta) Square onto Charing Cross Road and Wyndam Theatre was on my left. Driving Miss Daisy was playing there with James Earl Jones, so I bought a ticket to that evening's show.

The play was quite charming. After the show I wandered about China town for a bit and bought some dresses for Shyanne and Jayda. I am hoping they will fit, I bought them a size larger than the woman told me to get just to make sure. Then I ate a bacon, avocado, tomato, and lettuce sandwich and walked along the Thames where I took pictures of the London Eye and Big Ben.

Liam found Big Ben quite enjoyable.

The London Eye was lovely, Liam quite liked it. It is supposed to be the Eiffel Tower of London. The Eiffel Tower is a bit more impressive and much more brightly lit at night, but the Eye was still lovely.

I returned to my room for the evening and tried to sleep, but my hotel window was not very efficient at blocking out sound. The next day I left the hotel and stopped at Starbucks on Tavistock Square for a Peppermint Hot Chocolate and a Skinny Lemon Poppyseed Muffin for breakfast. After that I went to the Tower of London and walked across the Tower Bridge.

After the Tower Bridge I went to Shakespeare's Globe Theatre to take a tour of the place where Shakespeare did not perform his plays (because that one burned to the ground and had a bridge built over it.)

After the theatre I simply walked about the town taking pictures of things I thought you would like to see, such as Westminster Abbey, Buckingham Palace, a squirrel, and a telephone booth among other things.

St. Paul's Cathedral

When I think of Oliver Cromwell, I think of a horrible person. When the British think of him, they think, "let us build a statue in his honor!"

I would like to point out that on Richard the Lionheart's statue the British wrote "Cœur de Lion." That's correct, it is written in French.

The changing of the guard only happens on odd days so I did not get to watch it. Sorry dear sister.

I went to the National Gallery after walking down the Mall in London and enjoyed some of the artwork.

Until a lovely elderly gentleman told me that I was not allowed to take pictures in there. Then I went to the cafe and bought a hot chocolate and a scone.

I then took the tube to Picadilly Circus and considered going in to Ripley's Believe it Or Not! Until I saw the price of tickets for entrance.

From Picadilly Circus I returned to St. Pancras and took the train back to Paris. It was quite a jolly holiday, and one day you and I simply must travel there together.

Now go read Harry Potter you lousy git.

Elle Vend des Coquillages Par la Mer

2011-11-06T07:55:00.003-07:00

When I started law school my interest in finding or creating my signature scent of perfume died along with many other interests and hobbies of mine, such as dating, happiness, and joy.

Now that I'm in France I thought it would be the perfect opportunity to search for that great signature scent, and I have found it, in St. Malo, at a store called Divine. They have an online website where you can check out their perfumes. They are cher, but the one I purchased, l'Infante, smells so good. It is made right in Dinard, next to St. Malo, which may quite possibly be my most favorite place in the entire world. I bought some at their shop in Paris today, and after I purchased the bottle and was leaving the woman asked if I'd like her to perfume me. I think I should use that on someone some day. Sounds serious. "Perfume me." Ha. I let her. She sprayed way more than I ever would, but I smell good.

After spending Monday and Tuesday at Mont St. Michel and St. Malo I know without a doubt that after I get all my student loans paid off I've got to find me a beach and live there forever. Maybe I'll move to St. Malo. There are very few things in life that make me happier than sandy beaches, an ocean, and clean, fresh, salty sea air. I hadn't even realized how used I had gotten to the dirtiness of Paris and Cergy until I was outside of it and feeling the filth blowing away with each gust of delicious fresh wind.

Now I have my parfum. The good news is I can get a refill on the bottle for a cheaper price than I paid for it. Maybe this fragrance will help me get back into that other thing I've stopped doing: going on dates and finding myself a man. One can only believe that she will spend her entire life being a single woman with her own land wherein she will own one dog and several horses to help avoid the abject misery of the continous lonliness that has plagued her for her entire life for so long before spritzing on some great perfum, plastering a smile on her face and touching a guy's arm while talking to him. Except not in France. Flirting in a foreign language is too difficult, despite what you might think about French men.

On the rampart inside the wall of the old fortress, St. Malo.

Ooooh water and sand I love you. This is me, permitting you to see how much weight I've gained since coming here. That is a special level of friendship we've reached folks.

View of St. Malo from further out on the sometimes shore, sometimes sea.

That is the outpost we were walking to. In the morning it was surrounded by water. The tide recedes quickly here.

Cows in Normandy. They were furrier, and their eyes looked funny.

Mont St. Michel. We were a little worried about the car washing away because we weren't sure of the moon's cycle, but we were safe, and we could walk out there.

Spire on top of the Abbey.

Heavenly couds. The archangel Michael did tell the Bishop of the church in Avranches to build this Abbey.

View from the Abbey.

I'd like to ride a horse out there, unless the tide came in suddenly.

Facade of the Abbey. Recently rebuilt in the 1700s (I think that's what they said.)

The choir, as I sat in the knave (yeah I'm learning my church lingo.)

Garden above the cloisters.

This seagull decided to take flight just as I took this picture.

Mont Saint Michel all lit up like a magical castle.

This is how the tide was in the morning. When we could not walk out to those out posts.

Statue of a soldier that fought to protect St. Malo during a war (I'm not sure which one there was no plaque, just an old man who told his grandson about a soldier during the guerre.)

Parce Que C'est Mon Anniversaire

2011-10-30T08:05:00.002-06:00

It's funny how we can use our birthday as an excuse to do things or to make things acceptable. Like, I slept in until 9:30 BECAUSE IT'S MY BIRTHDAY! Or I bought a fancy, delicious pastry from Show Gourmand for breakfast BECAUSE IT'S MY BIRTHDAY. Or I shot a man in Reno just to watch him die BECAUSE IT'S MY BIRTHDAY. You get the idea. People have to accept your behavior because it is your birthday. It's kind of awesome.

The days leading up to my birthday were also pretty great. On Thursday I went to Paris and my friend Jessi and I went to the Catacombs. They were awesome. They were cold and damp and filled with dead bodies, but the history was interesting and it was pretty cool.

Yes that is a mountain of bones and skulls. They just piled the bodies in there, kind of sad, but then later they tried to organize them.

This guy that worked in the catacombs in the area where they quarried limestone carved these images.

From memory.

A spring in the catacombs. I threw in a penny and made a wish.

After the catacombs we went to the Marais area to try out this falafel stand Jessi had heard about. We got a little lost, but we did find it, and the falafels were delicious. Then we went to the national archives and walked around the museum and of course some prince and princess had lived there years ago.

France is lousy with castles because every new leader and their family had to have their OWN castle. They couldn't live in one that OTHER people lived in. They weren't animals! Don't blame them for their childish behavior, blame years of inbreeding. On the upside, there are a ton of awesome castles in France and they all are a museum of some kind or another now.

Then we went to Angelina's to get some hot chocolate. It was delicious, but not worth 7 euros. France is definitely better in the hot chocolate department than America is though. For sure. We hung out in the Tuileries and drank our HC and talked about what two young American women spending time studying in France would talk about. That night trying to get back home was an adventure. I was in the station at Chatelet when an announcement came over the intercom. You know, one of those intercoms where I probably would not have understood even if they had been speaking English. I caught something about Cergy and the train stopping at Sartrouville. So I thought I'd have to take the RER to Sartrouville and take the bus, but no RER was coming. I met this couple that was also waiting for the RER to Cergy, and I decided to stick to them like glitter to a craft person, and followed them to metro line 14 to the train at St. Lazarre to the bus at Sartrouville (ha see? I did understand SOMETHING.) Then the bus driver drove right past the Cergy Prefecture which illicited rage from other riders. These men came from the back of the bus and started screaming at the driver. Then he turned around and went back to the Prefecture. It was 2 AM when I finally got home, but I was so glad to see my residence that I didn't care.

Saturday I went back to Paris to Hotel de Ville to see the Sempe exhibit, BECAUSE IT WAS MY BIRTHDAY. Sempe is kind of like France's Charles Schultz. I love his artwork, ever since my high school French teacher gave us some Petit Nicolas stories to read, and act out that one time. Good times.

Then I went back to this chocolate store in the Marais to buy some pumpkin jam I had seen in the window on Thursday, BECAUSE IT WAS MY BIRTHDAY. Then I went to the 11th arrondissement to meet up with some friends for fondu, BECAUSE IT WAS MY BIRTHDAY. When I got to the place where my directions said the restaurant was supposed to be, it was not there. I went into a grocery store and asked the clerk if she knew where the restaurant was, she said she had no idea . I finally went into a flower shop and asked an old Asian man where it was. He did know, and he told me. Asians always know. It was two doors down from the grocery store I went in to. Thanks store clerk.

Unfortunately the restaurant was closed. Sometimes restaurants close in the afternoons and then open again later. Sometimes their website won't tell you that. Just a heads up. So we went to a nearby cafe and I ordered veal BECAUSE IT WAS MY BIRTHDAY. After eating my delicious veal I got a hot chocolate. They gave me a mug filled with rich dark chocolate syrup and another tiny pitcher with warm milk. So I could make it as rich and chocolatey as I wanted. I did, BECAUSE IT WAS MY BIRTHDAY. It was about as good as Angelina's, but cheaper, so, better.

Afterward I headed back to Cergy, talked to my family, and ate some bread with pumpkin jam, BECAUSE IT WAS MY BIRTHDAY.

Now I am twenty six. Weird. But good. Good French birthday.

Happy birthday today to my little sister. Look out world, she is sixteen. AH!

La Jocond: Or How to see Everything you Want at the Louvre in One Visit

2011-10-23T15:48:00.000-06:00

Okay before I get to anything else I have to give a plug to the TV show Fringe. First of all, not enough people are watching it, which has been true from the beginning. They've scraped their way into a fourth season. Some say that new viewers can hop on to this season and it'll be fine. I think that is a load of garbage. You have to watch it from the beginning or you won't care as much. I just caught up on the first four episodes of this season and the ending of the last episode left me overjoyed. A feeling I would not have had if I had not been following Fringe from the beginning. It is still an excellent show though.You need to watch it. If you ever watched and loved the X Files, then Fringe is totally for you. If you didn't, try something new for crying out loud! Fringe, Fridays on Fox. Do it, or ELSE! Now, moving on...

Tell me, why do the French insist on translating EVERYTHING into "French?" I mean, Mona Lisa, it's a name. Didn't Nat King Cole say so? Yet, in French she is La Jocond. Also, I've been reading Harry Potter in French. The first book (instead of being The Philosopher's/Sorcerer's Stone) is A L’École Des Sorciers which translates to "At the School of Wizards." Not so strange I suppose, but wait, there's more. Muggle, in French, is Moldu, and Hogwarts is Poudlard. THOSE AREN'T EVEN REAL WORDS!!! Why change them? The French can be so silly.

Anyway, I went to the Louvre. This is what you must know about me, inefficiency is my nemesis. Now, the Louvre is big (kings used to live there you know) so there is no possible way you can see everything all at once. I did want to catch a few certain pieces of art. The trick is, not to stare at the art for forever. I mean, I don't really understand the point of that. This isn't Harry Potter. The paintings aren't moving. Take a moment, take it in, snap a picture, take another moment then move on. I picked up a map and planned my route to see everything I wanted to see. I headed towards the apartments of Napoleon III and checked out some amazing statues on the way. The apartments were magnificent, gaudy, and gorgeous all at once. It made me wish I had lived back then... well maybe not THEN, Napoleon III was kind of a joke. Maybe before him. In other luxurious apartments. I was also going against the flow of traffic and all these large groups of tourists were blocking my way, so all of my concert going "get to the front by the time the band I care about is onstage" prowess came in handy. Thank you rock music.

Afterwards I decided to go check out the Mona Lisa because even though I knew she was going to be small and it would be crowded and kind of a "disappointment" I thought, "well it's kind of lame to come to the Louvre and NOT see her. I mean, when will I get this chance ever again?" So I consulted my map and saw that there was some other artwork I wanted to see on the way, namely the painting of the crowing of Napoleon (the legit one) and his Empress. So I walked through a lot of Greek art, and French art, and Italian art (can we just pause a moment and talk about how Italian art is better than French art. It just is). There was a lot of the Virgin Mary with the baby Jesus in painting and sculpture, and I somehow went the wrong way and was not in the right wing to see Napoleon. I was almost to La Jocond however, so I checked my watch (it was 5 PM and the Louvre closes at 5:30) and decided I had time to get to Mona Lisa and get back to see the Emperor and his lady, as well as check out the Venus de Milo. I forged onward and there was Mona, and you know what? I was not disappointed. Maybe because I was well aware that she wasn't going to be some giant painting. The picture was larger than Catherine de Medici's painting, so, there's that. Anyway, there were a few other great paintings in the room with her, and I let Liam take a photo with her to commemorate the trip. Then I headed back over to Napolean, and lo and behold, another favorite of mine was right next to it. Although the name is momentarily escaping me, which I find annoying, but it is a woman in the midst of a Roman battle. You know the one.. Then I headed over to Venus, and let Liam take a picture with her too, although she was wildly inappropriate. Topless AND armless. I still had time to get to Ancient Egypt, which had the Sphynx but the rest was totally lame because it was just brick walls. I'd suggest paying extra for the ticket to get into the exhibit with the clothing of the Chinese emperors instead. The brick walls were not worth it.

That is how I saw every piece of art I wanted to in one afternoon at the Louvre.

En Octobre, et mon anniversaire

2011-10-13T11:41:00.000-06:00

I know we're supposed to hate BP, since they blew up the Gulf Coast last year.

All those poor little animals that had to swim in oil :(

But, I've been desperately searching for pumpkin-y goodness here in France and not finding any. Apparently they don't have a taste for it. It's almost my birthday, and if the past six years tell you anything (pumpkin party anyone?) pumpkin is a necessary part of my birthday/the month of October/life.

Today, at BP, I found this:

cream of pumpkin soup

Now it feels like fall, and now, in a few weeks, I can turn 26. Merci BP. You really screwed up cleaning up the Gulf Coast, but you've made my October complete.

Regardez...

2011-10-04T01:40:00.000-06:00

The first is from my boatride on the Seine. The second is from the top of L'Arc. I make faces in videos. I don't know what else to do.

Salut! Ca va?

2011-10-03T13:42:00.000-06:00

Don't you miss my Chanson de semaine?

Of course not. I'm the only person that ever paid any attention to the new song every week.

Well, I miss it. Due to licensing restrictions playlist.com doesn't work over here.

So here is a link to Tonight I Have to Leave It by the Shout Out Louds. I'm pretty sure the Shout Out Louds are on my list of favorite music to listen to whilst walking about France.

Speaking of France... do you want to stand on top of L'Arc de Triomph with me? Or take a boatride on the Seine?

Well okay, I took these videos for YOU dear reader. So it is like you are in France here with me!(The internet isn't working very well right now, I promise, these videos are coming soon!!)

Liam is loving France too. He loved our boat ride with our lovely tour guide, who I think said his name was Frank... I can't remember now.

In other news, it is OCTOBER! Hooray for being the best month ever! It is still unnaturally warm here. According to the Pharmacie outside of 3 Fontaines it was 30 degrees today at 6 PM. I don't know if I believe it was THAT warm (86 degrees Fahrenheit), but maybe it was. Also, there is no hot water in my residence currently... so I am looking forward to cold showers for the next while until that gets fixed.... :-/

Finally, this past weekend was General Conference for my church. I highly recommend watching it. I watched it in French and English.You can watch it in other languages too. I loved all of the talks, but I think my favorite was Tad R. Callister's talk from Sunday morning. Also Sister Elaine S. Dalton told men how to raise happy, healthy, well adjusted daughters. I loved it and if you have a daughter you should watch it. It made me miss my daddy. (I totally just wrote daddy. Oh well. It's legit.)

My French is getting better little by little. That makes me happy. I'm enjoying my law classes, even contracts law, which was the bane of my existence during my 1L year.

Well I'd better go do my French homework. I leave you with a phrase to use on someone you love: je t'aime, je t'adore, que voulez-vous le plus encore?

That ought to make your petit(e) chou melt all over the place.

Bon Anniversaire a Toi!

2011-09-25T14:47:00.000-06:00

We interrupt our regularly scheduled program for an important announcement.

I made a little video as I sat in my ~~jail cell~~ chambre (which by the way has more bugs now than it did before they sprayed for bugs... significantly more [although still not as bad as the earwigs of '09]). You see my niece's birthday is on Monday, which, according to French time is just over an hour away. I'm going to video chat home tomorrow to talk to her, but the video quality is usually bad and the sound is usually off (thanks France.)

So, here is a video of me, singing happy birthday to her. If your name isn't Shyanne, and you aren't turning three on Monday you need not watch.

And yes, those are my clothes hanging in the background. 1 euro gets me 18 minutes on the dryer, which isn't enough...

Mieux Vaut Tard que Jamais

2011-09-20T08:32:00.005-06:00

Do you want to hear about my life, or just see pictures of L'Arc de Triomphe and La Tour Eiffel?

Rhetorical question. I'm telling you a little bit about my life.

I've decided I can only handle one French cultural thing per day. Otherwise I'll be like the person that has to read the directions on a box of Pop Tarts.

Today I decided it was time to figure out what size I wear in France. Let me tell you why French women are not fat. Their size numbers are horrific. Actually the fact that there really don't seem to be fat women in France is counter-intuitive since these people eat pain, fromage, and nutella and speculoos and all manner of pastries all the live long day. By the way, every package I mail back to the states is going to have a jar of speculoos in it. It is so good.

Anyway, I needed to buy a jacket, because although I'm certain I packed three, I only have one sweatshirt here. I looked up a conversion chart online last night. It said that a US size 4 was the same as a France size 34 and a size 6 in the UK. Well I decided I'd start with that at the store today and see how it went. I found some jeans that were size 8/36 (so they should be a size six in the US) but that was a lie. A size 34 = -4 I am certain of it. So I had a wonderfully humbling experience of telling some guy that I had no idea what size I was supposed to wear in France. Then he asked me was size I wear in the US. So I told him and he told me a 4 or a 6 = a 40 or 42. Now I need to go work out. Especially since the bread and cheese is going to be the death of me.

I had my first Criminal Law and Procedure class yesterday. In case you didn't know, criminal law is kind of my thing. Two internships at County Attorney offices, 3 Criminal Law Classes in Vermont, a paper on the correlation between pornography and sex crimes. I'm kind of totally into it. I'm also pretty pro prosecution. I love putting people in jail. (I kid I kid. nobutseriously.)

Here is a piece of my notes from my French Crim Law class yesterday:
"When arrested if the prosecution has no doubt regarding involvement a defendant can be sent to trial and tried in two days. The trial will last 12 minutes altogether. If assigned to the Commis D'Office, the commis will meet client five minutes before trial."
I'm serious guys. Talk about judicial efficiency... sounds a little 1984 ish to me, but I'm going to go to the Cour d'Assise to watch a trial day. We'll see if I feel appalled by the system.

Anyway, I went to Paris this weekend and walked to the top of L'Arc de Triomphe and then went to La Tour Eiffel. I took a million pictures. I let Liam get some picture action as well, since I'm sure he was sick of sitting in my purse. So, enjoy the photos.

Dear future husband. After we get married, lets go to Paris and take wedding pictures.

I thought this was odd, but funny.

A statue at La Defense

Man, I want to go so bad.

I would not eat a fish someone caught in La Seine. I just wouldn't.

I do want to get in on that kayaking action though.

Liam loves L'Arc de Triomphe

She is passionate, just like all the French.

La tour Eiffel from the top of L'Arc de Triomphe.

Je me balade sur l'avenue... (I hope that song is stuck in your head now)

Liam in front of La Tour Eiffel

I AM IN FRANCE. I can't get over it.

I did go to Versailles this past weekend. But I couldn't go into the palace for many reasons. One being that it was free to get in. While on one hand that would be a total plus, there was a huge queue outside the entrance.... I couldn't wait that long. However, it is why I got to go to the top of L'Arc for free. You walk up and up and up and up the stairs and get to a terrace. Then you go up some more to another terrace with a bookshop. Then you go up more stairs to the top. It is a lot of up. The view is totally awesome though.

Finally, while you are walking the streets of Paris, I highly recommend listening to Sondre Lerche. You will probably dance down the street a little.

Montre Courage

2011-09-11T07:12:00.004-06:00

I remember many years ago my uncle once telling me that he can remember exactly what he was doing when JFK was shot. He said anyone that was alive back then could tell you. I used to think that things like that just don't happen anymore, not in America. Terrible events may take place in far away places, but in America we were in a bubble. A safe, insulated, powerful bubble.

I could tell you exactly what I was wearing at 5:45 AM on September 11, 2001when the announcement of the first plane hitting the tower was made on KOOL 94.5. Life as we knew it would never be the same.

Lets take a moment and take a step back. Forget what political party you belong to. Forget whether you liked Bush or hated him. Forget whether you voted for Barack Obama or John McCain. Forget the value of the dollar, and forget the stress of trying to get on a plane now. Just stop and remember we are all Americans. I love you America.

What I can't remember is the exact moment I decided I wanted to go to France. I remember each year we would pull out our snow stuff just before the Martin Luther King Jr. holiday when we would head up to Flagstaff. My mom had a scarf. Purple and grey. She had bought it in Paris many years before. I loved the scarf. I loved the stories my parents would tell of their years in Europe and I was bitterly jealous that my brother was the one born in Germany. If only it had been ME that had been born first. The longing began somewhere around there.

I have had this pencil sharpener of La Tour Eiffel since high school. I got it in one of my French classes. I think it was a gift to the first two AP French students my teacher had ever had. It has gone with me to BYU and to Vermont as a symbol of what I wanted to do someday: live in France for a while and really improve my French.

Now that I'm here I often feel overwhelmed by a language that I have rarely spoken in the last five years, but also pretty pleased that I have successfully managed to open a bank account and travel around the metro, and help others on the metro who were lost and introduced myself to many people in French. I feel like this semestre is a gift and I want to rip the wrapping paper off, but at the same time I want to unwrap it slowly, careful not to miss any piece of it.

So, here are some photos I have taken thus far, and since we all know how picture happy I can get, these are a small sampling of what is to come.

As for ma petite Tour Eiffel? C'est ici. It is now a symbol of so many hopes and dreams becoming a reality. I don't think I believed it could actually happen until I arrived here and saw that I was in France with my very own eyes.

L'automne est a venir!

Regarde maman. J'ai mangé le dejeuner. Avec du fromage.

C'est Cergy

Jackie! C'est Hello Kitty. Elle aime la France!

Busking dans le metro

Paris!!!

Framboise et caramel du beurre a sale

La Seine!

Add caption

Notre Dame

C'est tout pour aujourd'hui. No worries, there is much more to come. Next week my church is having a conference in Versailles. J'adore ma vie. France, je t'aime, even if you are a little crazy.

Quelle Jour!

2011-09-07T09:46:00.002-06:00

I met this guy...

Don't get excited. I didn't mean like that. He is a lovely individual and he showed me around Port Cergy last evening.

Today he connected my computer to the internet for me. So I can call home and video chat avec ma famille.

I'm fairly certain he is my guardian angel.

Parle Doucement s'Il vous Plait!

2011-09-07T06:11:00.000-06:00

I find myself saying that a lot here. It means speak slowly please.

Cergy sits near the river Oise. The Port is lovely, there are little bunny rabbits that run all around.

I would like to take a minute to say that socialism totally sucks. PLEASE DO NOT VOTE FOR BARACK OBAMA NEXT YEAR. If America turns into France I will kill myself. Only YOU can prevent my suicide. I almost had a nervous breakdown in the International Relations Office at the school today.

Things about France I love:
    It is very green in Cergy
    Port du Cergy.(river, rabbits and all)
    nutella. It tastes a million times better here. Just sayin.
there is a park by my residence

Things about France that I don't love:
       Their socialism, which causes ridiculously high prices. I paid the equivalent of 6 dollars for six apples.      That is a dollar an apple my friend. Ridiculous.
        Their inability to get out of 1998 when it comes to the internet
       the fact that they're socialists
        their weird keyboards
        their socialist ways
        graffiti, so much graffiti everywhere. On every possible thing imagineable.
        socialism
        the smell of cigarette smoke EVERYWHERE
        oh, and socialism.

It would seem that distaste for France is currently winning. But last night as I lay in bed not sleeping because my stupid body refuses to comprehend that it is not actually daytime at night and nighttime during the day (jet lag is a monster) I smiled to myself because I was laying in an uncomfortable bed in a crappy bare little room with no WiFi hearing my flatmate snoring in her room and thought, I am in FRANCE! Maybe I was laughing at myself because I fought so hard for this ridiculousness? but no, I'm pretty sure I was just really happy that this dream was coming true.

Once I can get WiFi on my laptop at the school I will post some pictures and elaborate on things, don't you fret. But for now, I thought you should know I arrived safe and sound and things are SLOWLY falling into place. Even though most of the time I end up thinking about how America is better. Which I'm certain will make my dad happy when my mom tells him I said that. Don't worry dad, I won't live in France forever.

Your blog comments and prayers are always gratefully welcomed.

Quand Tu Arrives a Paris

2011-09-04T06:12:00.002-06:00

Tu ne veux pas partir.(I heard Benton Paul sing that whole song in French. Go me.)

Guys, let me tell you something about me. I am a walking nervous wreck. The whole time I was flying to Paris I was having a nervous breakdown in my mind.

Now, this is just who I am. Starting sometime towards the end of July I started having moments where I thought, "what am I doing?? I don't want to leave the country all by myself!! That is SCARY!" Now granted, I think many of my fears are legitimate. However, I probably would have been perfectly willing to say, "you know what? Never mind, I'll just spend my last year in VT." Comfortable. Less stressful (except that whole Irene thing). A dream I've had for years never fulfilled.

Well who wants to live like that? Not me. So I'd get mad at myself and tell myself I was being ridiculous. However, I finally decided to accept the fact that I was just going to freak out until I got to France and everything turned out fine. I'm here, and still mildly freaked out because I have to journey to the school tomorrow, and it's kind of far away. And I kind of have two suitcases. I really don't know what I was thinking. I don't care how long you're going on a study abroad, only bring one suitcase. A small one. Just listen to me, it is better that way. I am so dumb. Anyway, it'll be fine, and once I'm in Cergy I won't have to worry about it until Dec. I'll probably take the bus in Dec. because I think I can take just one from Cergy to CDG.

Anyway. I have met some very nice and helpful people here in Paris. All men. Three of them significantly older than me. One of them asked me if I had a boyfriend. Girls, remember, the answer to that question is always yes. No matter what. I've decided I'm not lying when I say that, I'm just planning for the future. Anyway, it didn't really work on him because he told me I could get a French boyfriend. Then he told me he wanted to take me to get a drink later. Too bad I don't drink. Plus you look like you're in your 40s. I'm not even in my 30s yet. Sorry home skillet. Good thing he was going a different direction from me.

Then a man helped me up the stairs at the last station. There is an escalator but it was closed off, go figure. Then a man helped me find my hotel. He offered to take me to Cergy tomorrow.At first I thought he meant he'd drive me. Internal conflict ensued because I was exhausted and just getting in a car and getting dropped off at Cergy's front door sounded amazing to me. Then my wiser side shouted, "no you moron. That isn't happening. I don't care how tired you are." However, he just meant he'd get me to the train station. I might let him help me. I haven't decided. He could have robbed me today and he didn't. He could still rob me tomorrow. But I have two suitcases. I can't convey to you how dumb that is. Did I learn nothing from my stint in NYC? Apparently not. Why did I think I needed all these clothes? It's just 4 months. I can wear the same three outfits over and over. I'm crazy!

Anyway, I did get to my hotel safely and now I am exhausted. I'm going to take a nap, bad idea though it may be. Then maybe shower and walk around Paris for a bit.

I can't form coherent sentences anymore. Night.

The Eye of the Storm

2011-08-30T20:13:00.001-06:00

Flying out of Boston and driving across the country in August rather than January and leaving most of my stuff in a VT basement seemed like a brilliant idea in April.

Then... Hurricane Irene hit the East Coast.

My tiny village sits right on the White River in VT, where, in case you haven't heard, over 200 roads are closed and covered bridges and homes are destroyed and people are trapped in their homes.

I know of two families who have lost parts of their homes, and judging from an email sent from my law school today, the first apartment I lived in is trapped by the river, which makes me worry for the neighbors that still live there.

Thankfully, the basement where my belongings are is still dry, but that town is without power (as is most of the state) and unless the I-91 opens up tomorrow, I can't get to the school to pick up my financial aid money before leaving the country on Saturday.

To top it off I have a terrible head cold. And since I'm back in New England I can't go pick up some Nyquil from the convenience store because it closed at nine.

I also finally have a good internet connection and I can't talk to my niece and nephew on the webcam because my mom is at a meeting and my dad doesn't know how to work it and by the time anyone gets home that can do it they'll be in bed.

I have no brilliant thing to say. I have no heartfelt words to give. There was a hurricane. It totally sucks.

Things I'll Miss the Most

2011-08-26T23:52:00.000-06:00

I leave Phoenix in the morning. I'm driving east and I'll be hitting the east coast just after hurricane Irene. Perfect timing huh?

There are many things about being home that I'm going to miss. Most of all, I'm going to miss three things:

Nephew

Niece

Niece-let

I've loved being home with these adorable little chickens all summer. I love reading "Where the Wild Things Are" to Nephew and Niece. I love taking them swimming. I love holding Niece-let and singing "All My Lovin'" to her because it makes her so happy.

Thank goodness for web-cam. Otherwise I might die.

One Ring to Rule Them All

2011-08-10T22:56:00.000-06:00

Do you ever find yourself thinking about shoes? I do. It has been awhile since I bought myself a pair of shoes. It's not like I was ever one of those girls that bought ten pairs of shoes a day, but in 2008 I bought three pairs of pumps. That is the last time I bought some pumps.

It's been rough, but I make myself feel better by sometimes perusing shoes online. A few weeks ago I found the most beautiful pair of heels I have ever seen.

I need these shoes. I need them for my wedding shoes. These are at Payless. Last week while at Target I had t o restrain myself from going over to Payless and try them on. I heard them calling to me as I walked to my car.

Today I went to JCPenny to try and find a grey suit jacket to match my grey skirt and I found one that is just slightly off. Don't you hate that? I couldn't buy it because it wouldn't match. As I was in the store I thought, "there is a Payless in this mall." On the other side of the mall. If you knew how much I hate malls you'd know the fact that I was willing to walk across the mall to look at these shoes shows how much I love them.

They had them in a size too small and a size too large. I did try them on in the size larger and they were like putting on magic. I even liked the stone on the vamp better in person than I did when I first saw the picture.

It's probably for the best that these shoes are not in my size. They cost $60.

I tell myself they'll go on sale. But what if they don't? And what if I never get married? I should still get to wear these shoes! I'd wear them all the time. I'd wear them to bed.

I am in love.

Its the Final Countdown

2011-08-01T23:53:00.000-06:00

When did Kirk actually become Kirk on Gilmore Girls? I just saw an early episode and he was Kirk, but I'm pretty sure there is another episode afterwards where he isn't Kirk again. What was going on with that?

I feel like I should update this here blog, but I can't think of anything to say that isn't really depressing (like stop looking at pornography people.) you know, something super intense like that. I probably will end up blogging something like that soon, and you'll all be freaked out, but I promise you, every word I type will be true, and you ought to tell other people about it, and then tell them to stop looking at pornography too.

But I don't want to blog about that tonight. I've gotta leave it at work right now. My first trial is happening on Wednesday. I know what you're thinking, Lindsey you've been doing this internship all summer. I know I know. It's the nature of the beast. Maybe if I had been in a different bureau I would have gotten more trial experience. Maybe if I had come to sex crimes in fall or winter I would have gotten more trial experience. It's just hard to know how it's going to work out, ya know? I've still learned a LOT. Starting Wednesday I will learn a LOT MORE.

So how about Google+ huh? Lets all delete our Facebook accounts now, what say you? I probably will soon. If only I could get my mom to get on Google+ so we can video chat whilst I am in France.(Mom, seriously. I've sent you an invite and told you to get a gmail. If you love me you will join so I may communicate with you whilst I am out of the country.)

Speaking of France, what??? That is happening in a month? I'm freaking out! I still have things I need to do to be all prepared. I wish the school would respond to my emails. That'd be nice. I've only sent them a crapload of money, it would be nice to know if they got it. Sorry I said crapload. That was probably offensive. Twice.

Ugh, I'm going to make something this weekend and then I'll show it to you. It'll be food.

It is almost 11 and I have not worked out yet today. I feel fat. And exhausted. I need to shower. To work out or not to work out, that is the question. I should probably go work out. At least for a little bit.

It's August y'all. Another summer almost done. How do we feel about that? Was your summer all you thought it would be?

I don't know if mine was. It was pretty great though, I got a new niece-let. She is tiny and adorable. That is pretty awesome. So maybe my summer was all I thought it would be. Yeah, babies are the best.

I Wish I Was Special

2011-07-19T00:52:00.000-06:00

Maybe you're like me.

Maybe you have a friend that just released a song on iTunes. Maybe this makes you happy for him but sad for yourself, because you still haven't recorded anything, even though you were once promised it would happen.

Maybe you have an internship where you never get to go to court and everyone else does. Maybe you can laugh at it a little bit because your supervisor has tried so hard to get you into the courtroom but it just keeps not working out.

Maybe you spent a whirlwind weekend in Utah to go to a friend's wedding reception and visit your sister and you left on Sunday to get back in time for trial on Monday, only to find out the trial has been continued.

Maybe you got your visa in the mail last week and you can't believe that soon you will be in France fulfilling a lifelong dream.

Maybe you think about driving back to Newport Beach, CA every single day.

Maybe you think it is a little crazy that in a year you'll be graduated from law school and just about to take the bar, probably within the week.

Maybe you are always ridiculously exhausted because you can't fall asleep at night.

Maybe you think that people that can't grasp the concept of a reverse lane should not drive on 7th Ave. from 6-9 AM and 4-6 PM.

Maybe you're not like that. Maybe you are like you.

That is probably better.