tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27856095211916037112024-03-21T04:06:24.952+01:00room 481art teacher, mama, and brooklyniteMiss Rosiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04737399727051069638noreply@blogger.comBlogger184125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2785609521191603711.post-70183745499655732722011-06-03T00:55:00.004+02:002012-08-27T23:22:14.103+02:00Back to My Future<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I started this blog as a curriculum sharing site and an online community for likeminded educators (think NYCORE- New York Collaboration of Radical Educators!) to share with and inspire each other. Then I met my husband and moved to Chile and Paris and now that we're finally back in New York and life is almost back to normal, I feel like it's time to go back to using this forum for its original intent.<br /><br />There are so many amazing blogs out there. I have been incredibly inspired by how rich the blogosphere is- and how many people who have actual jobs and also put hours into sharing content online. So I will switch gears and this summer as I prepare to get back to what I love to do- teaching art; I will try to refocus the lens a bit and document getting back to teaching. <br /><br />I think teaching is really fascinating especially in New York there are so many interesting lenses through which to look at education in urban communities that are both privileged and low-income. The politics of education are my passion, policy reform, stakeholders and Arne Duncan, Michael Bloomberg and Joel Klein make for some very interesting conversation threads.Miss Rosiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04737399727051069638noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2785609521191603711.post-61254916577641675562011-03-31T21:40:00.003+02:002012-08-27T23:19:27.616+02:00ReflectionToday I had two or three interesting conversations with work friends. <br /><br />The first conversation was with a fellow wisconsinite. She got married almost a year ago and told me the story of how her "maid of honor/best friend" sabotaged her wedding day because she wanted to see Mood Fabrics to take pictures to show her mom as she was a fan of project runway and later making her late to her own reception. And how her parents were so selfish they had her running around new york showing them the "sights" until after midnight the night of her wedding. I had to change the wording of this synopsis a couple times because I wrote it in a way that implied she had no way of saying, "no", which obviously she did. She never put her foot down or left her friend of family to put herself first (although her dad did abandon her and her maid of honor at Mood Fabrics).<br /><br />Then I had a conversation with my friend Morenike whom I asked for advice about an issue I'm having with the apartment I'm moving into tomorrow. The woman I'm subletting from wont allow me to receive mail there... which I feel entitled to do. Morenike told me, I ought not to feel entitled... If you lay out the arrangement- I'm subletting for 3 months from this woman, the only mail I have is Netflix, so... Whats the big deal? I've sublet 5 or 6 apartments in New York not to mention france and chile and I've always been welcome to receive mail... Moreover I've sublet my own apartment to others for years and everyone was always welcome to receive mail... not to do so, seems unnecessarily uptight and paranoid. Nonetheless, as Morenike points out, in this lifetime, I am not entitled to anything, and I best keep that in mind.<br /><br />Later I talked to a man at work whom I want to know better, but whom I generally only see in passing... In hoping to know him better I asked if he is a lifer in the profession of teaching... He said, well, he whispered, No. He told me he intended to live his life consciously and direct his life to the extent that he made conscious choices driving life changes and experiences. I wanted to know this teacher better because he reminds me of my best colleague (work version of best friend- not the same status as best friend, but best work friend) Thomas, who moved to Chicago at the same time I left for Chile. I miss Thomas and something about this teacher reminds me of something in Thomas. When I left for Chile I was at a point where it felt like I needed to take the wheel and step off the plan- make something happen, making a conscious choice for something else. New York was comfortable, I had a job at a school I liked, but I felt myself slipping into frustrating dramas and living my life in a way that felt automatic. He said, most people like that, they work hard when they're young to achieve all this "stuff" and then stop and put their feet up. There is this idea (that a lot of people accept) that people ought to put their head down and muddle through, they work for 20 years maybe, and then they plan on enjoying life in retirement. He said, well, I certainly don't plan on having social security around to rely on upon retirement. I won't have a pension working for a charter school... Its important to me that I live my life, now. I don't think he was talking about moving to Chile, but making memories, doing things, having events to look back at in regular intervals to prove he had not wasted this lifetime.<br /><br />I'm blessed to have these moments in my life when people remind you what not to take for granted. Without feeling pity for my fellow wisconsinite, I'm glad I am not afraid to say "No" when people take advantage, that at times I can put myself first and not feel guilty. Because I don't want my memories of my wedding or any other important day be about how my best friend thought it was more important to take photos of bolts of fabric than celebrate my big day. I'm lucky to have Morenike who always tells it like it is, no matter how right you might be, Morenike isn't going to tell you what you want to hear, she's going to tell you how it is- most of us aren't looking for that in a friend even if we often say we do, but I recognize as hard as it is to hear what she has to say sometimes, life never comes down to whose in the right. We are always this close to being swept up in getting a little too comfortable. Sylvain and I are cat sitting for a friend whose home (for us) is like staying at a 5 star hotel. For ten days we get to relax and enjoy this amazing space that feels even more special because it's our friends' space. There are moments where all I can aspire to is having my own 2bd/2bth in the city, but in order to have a home we would need to set roots down. I can't imagine us doing that in any real way. We move around to better know ourselves, to take on challenges and to know about more than just our needs and desires. I can't imagine a day when we will have more than just enough to get by on, but I imagine we will always have friends somewhere who leave town and need someone to feed their cat, or a visit from mom and a delicious meal out.Miss Rosiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04737399727051069638noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2785609521191603711.post-10326102272968175642011-01-29T23:21:00.002+01:002015-05-23T23:54:37.340+02:00Meditation WorkshopIn so many ways it feels like America is falling apart at it's seams, the ways that we are tied together as a community of Americans sharing the same soil and air space, but bitterness and resentment is all we feel for our neighbors who see the world through a different lens. And yet, I find that at least in some pockets of this country there are folks who really let all that stuff go. The spiritual folks who may adhere strongly to their beliefs but those who leave space and find a way to love those neighbors who have different ideas about which way is up. <br />
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Thursday was a snow day here, and I grabbed my new yoga mat and headed to yoga class. My teacher, Mary, was one I've never had before, and she was a gem. I didn't practice yoga much in Paris, I didn't really feel connected to the community and the style and it was super pricey, so I just shelved it. Whenever you're away from whatever is your 'center", your "home" you return and you feel a little guilt and awkwardness coming back. I was feeling a little of that, I was out of shape and I knew that I might struggle a little to feel the flow, maybe a little intimidated by the class regulars whose poses didn't need a bit of adjustment but Mary made it feel like a welcome home party. She didn't have us do endless cycles of downward dog and she was always using these great phrases that put smiles on my face. I can't wait to go back. That's what I dig about the states, everywhere I've ever taken a yoga class it's been welcoming, joyful and positive. I think it speaks volumes that a place like the states with our culture of fast food and vitriolic politics and general dumping and abuse on the environment that we can get this so right.<br />
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Mary announced at the beginning of her class that she was having a meditation workshop Saturday and I decided I was going to attend. Sylvain started talking about meditation when we moved to Chile, he's not a yoga kind of guy but he has a really open mind and so I asked him to come and we made it a date. In Chile I got some instruction from my cousin Ken and tried doing some meditation there but it wasn't a hugely successful attempt. For a week or so I made it work but I didn't really know how to get into, to find my own style. Sitting on a cushion was relaxing and I like to have some time to let go of the worldly stuff, but I wasn't feeling drawn to it. Later I realized with a little help from my friend Shirley that meditation doesn't have to just be sitting on a cushion, she told me to go take a walk, move. <br />
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But I wanted to get comfortable with the cushion too and I had a feeling Mary would be a big help, because I sort of felt lost doing it on my own. One of the reasons I like going to yoga classes is that sort of vibration of likeminded folks all working together, in college the fusion of energy in the art studio was really inspiring and today was no different, 15 or 16 folks in a circle all trying to achieve something alone together sitting on a cushion and sharing with each other the humility of that struggle. I just think American's do this so well, we are eager and non-judgemental about this kind of stuff, sharing intimate stories, being vulnerable and kind with one another.Miss Rosiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04737399727051069638noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2785609521191603711.post-46312895449346270592011-01-24T01:38:00.003+01:002011-06-03T01:06:59.393+02:00Kettle of F-bombLast year Sylvain and I came back to NYC just before Christmas, we caught one of the last games of the season at the Packer bar in NYC Kettle of Fish. It was a great game, full of Packer fan's, kind, warm, celebratory. We had such a good time, it felt a little sad to be headed to Paris for who knows how long when we could be watching the Packers play at Kettle of FIsh eating brats and drinking beers. So it should come as no surprise that at noon today we headed downtown to catch todays playoff game even if it meant spending 30 minutes freezing our toes off standing in line outside the bar with about a hundred other Packer fans. We were pretty far back in line outside a manicure and pedicure store and the two guys behind us with a 414 area code started cracking gay jokes because there was a guy inside the spa salon. I didn't think I'd be using my French very often in the states because Sylvain and I have always spoke English, but I find that we've had plenty of opportunities to speak French here- whenever we come across rude annoying Americans. It's 2011, does a man getting a massage or a manicure really necessitate gay snickering? This is New York after all, not redneck Wisconsin. <br /><br />Inside we sat down in front of the TV by the fireplace. RIght away three women sitting on the couch poked us on the shoulder and told us the waitress would be telling us we couldn't sit there "Just so YOU know" they said. We laughed because that is always where we've sat at KofF. The waitress never asked us to move, but several more packer fans sat around us. <br /><br />We spent the entire game listening to these three girls use the most fowl language I've ever heard in my life, it was angry, and ugly and ruined our enjoyment of the game. The f-bomb generally doesn't phase me, but when it's non-stop and used in such a violent negative way it becomes distracting. I wanted the Packers to beat the Bears as much as anyone in that bar today, but it wasn't fun watching while the folks behind us spewed hate. We won't be watching the Superbowl at Kettle of Fish.Miss Rosiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04737399727051069638noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2785609521191603711.post-55504865746468689772011-01-20T18:45:00.002+01:002011-01-20T19:14:50.936+01:00StatesideBy the time Christmas rolled around moving back to the states seemed less and less appealing. I didn't want to be a nanny anymore and I was happy to even trade that job for the equally mind-numbing and frustrating position of substitute teacher, even if just for the change of pace. <br /><br />I'm back now and I've had a couple weeks to adjust. I have an overwhelming feeling of "been there done that". Our sublet is directly behind my former morningside heights apartment, I'm back at work subbing for the school I used to teach art at. The only thing that has changed is my perspective. Living in France was no dream, but like everywhere you grow to appreciate things, and you grow accustom to and accept a different base point.<br /><br />Not to pick on Americans for their weight problems, but after living in France where most people are very thin and the non-very thin people are not overweight- the extra weight Americans carry seems down-right cartoonish. We were flying from Appleton to Milwaukee and the man next to us could not fit his seat belt around him and told Sylvain he had recently gained 60 lbs after quitting smoking. This seat to body ratio thing is also noticed on the subway, molded seats run along the sides and when there are 10 seats often no more than 6 or 7 people can wedge their way into a seat. <br /><br />Sylvain has often remarked on how many friends I have here who are vegetarian- something I never saw in France- we just spent a week skiing in the Alps with some of the hippiest earth loving people I have ever met, all of them, hearty meat-eaters. The US has had a longterm movement of people who adhere to organic diets, who are gym fanatics, and who are simply health conscious, and yet in France where it's almost impossible to come across a gym, or someone who exercises with any regularity or eats as consciously as many Americans do, we're the one's that can't fit in our seats.<br /><br />Are we thinking too much about food and health? Do we have these problems because the food that is accessible is so bad for us, filled with preservatives and chemicals? Is our food industry regulated in such a way the that the foods available and affordable are those that are superficially maintained by our government? <br /><br />One of the main differences I see is a cultural acceptance in America- and a personal will power or determination in France that stops people from becoming overweight. A little voice that says, this is too much and it's not ok for me. There are definitely attitudes in France that place too much importance on being thin, but not nearly as extreme as some of the ways these extreme attitudes towards food has manifested itself in anorexia and bulimia epidemics in the US. What worries me most is that even when someone places a superficial value on being thin as you sometimes find in France, these attitudes hardly end up costing lives, the biggest loser and heavy shows just how many Americans have lost their lives-I mean the acts of living - that comprise a life. <br /><br />Food is hugely important in France, but it has never become a weapon against ourselves. It has added to the living, not chipped away at it.Miss Rosiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04737399727051069638noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2785609521191603711.post-30903161213232254242011-01-03T18:32:00.004+01:002011-01-03T18:49:58.346+01:00Skiing in the AlpsSylvain and I started the tradition of instead of buying things for holidays and birthdays we would do stuff, go somewhere, make some memories. Last Christmas we left Chile and on our way out we went to Pucon, what great memories we have of doing hydrospeed and capping off the adventure that was Chile. For my 30th he brought me to Bruges and this Christmas I really wanted to finish our chapter in France with a ski trip in the Alps. It helped that Sylvain's lovely friend Fabien has a chalet there. We were joined by another friend Guillaume and his 3 year old son Rafael and two guys that were friends of Fabien's girlfriend Chloe. <br /><br />I grew up having a cottage we went to more weekend's then we ever went to church. We played a lot of cards a lot of scrabble, and a lot of trivial pursuit. The week at the chalet did not disappoint and reminded me a lot of those nights around the dining room table both as a child trying to sleep but kept awake listening to the adults in the main room getting loud while drinking beers and playing cards, and also as a high school student being invited to join the adult fun myself. <br /><br />I was worried that with that many people meals would be a disaster and cleaning up even worse, however, the dishwasher saved us from any trouble on that count, and the meals were some of the best I've had in France. We played cards, got loud, with Rafael we found an old game of Connect 4 (puissance 4) and young and old became obsessed with getting 4 chips in line for hours on end. We ate traditional Savoyen meals, the weather was perfect, and Rafael was the perfect edition to our group as he was a sweet natured kid and a social butterfly.<br /><br />I learned to ski from my aunt and her family when they invited me along on their skiing holidays 16 years ago. Her sons have both worked in Colorado for the ski season as ski patrol and it's hard to catch up with their family without hearing about some skiing adventure the boys were on. During the week I learned to ski, I remember my uncle telling me how serious the hills were in Colorado, that the mountains took 30 minutes to get down, and the chair lifts were three times as long. I've never been to Colorado skiing, but I can confirm this for the French Alps.Miss Rosiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04737399727051069638noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2785609521191603711.post-70717813885436419882011-01-03T16:53:00.003+01:002011-01-03T17:33:28.182+01:00Pure FoodI really like the neighborhood I live in in Paris' 18eme, I found the most delicious pastry here called a Bichon au Citron, a sort of lemon chasson au pomme. It's one of the best things I've ever tasted sweets wise, and one weekend when Sylvain went out to get our saturday pastries he went to a different boulangerie and I had a minor tantrum when he didn't bring one home. It's not that I am prone to tantrums but for 30 minutes while he was doing errands and getting the pastries I had literally been imagining the first bite, the disappointment was bitter.<br /><br />I'd say raclette has been my favorite "meal" discovery and we live near Abesses where there is a great Savoyen restaurant on the corner somewhere along Rue de Trois Freres, about a month ago we went with another couple and ordered the raclette, I literally inhaled it, I don't remember coming up for air except to ask for more cornichons. Raclette is totally brainless, if you buy raclette grill and raclette cheese all you do is add potatoes and charcuterie, I need a jar of cornichons to myself and generally you start with a salad and drink a dry white. I really don't think anyone could fail at raclette and it's fun and easy to do with a dinner party.<br /><br />Sauce au poivre I ate off of Sylvain's plate and then went straight home and found a recipe how to make it, I generally put it over pork chops but it goes over red meat more traditionally I think. I make potatoes as a side because they soak up the extra sauce. This is a sauce I could easily lick the plate over, but since I know better I refrain.<br /><br />We just went skiing in Savoy between Christmas and New Years and we ate well, raclette, tartiflette and fondue are traditional meals in this region and all were amazingly satisfying after a day on the pistes. Ive never been a HUGE fan of pasta, it's okay, but give me potatoes and yum. Tartiflette for me is the number one comfort food. I'd eat this on a cold winters day or on any of those days that just beat you down and you need to eat your way out. Tartiflette is like carmalized onions, potatoes, lardons (bacon), and cream with roblochon fromage. Again it's a white wine meal and it's wasy to forget about calories with food that tastes this good.<br /><br />One thing you can never go wrong with in france is a planche with cheese charchuterie and if it's offered, get the ones with pate, usually it will come with some salad and cornichons, and of course, baguette, all you need is a bottle of wine. <br /><br />France doesn't do a menu carte the same way we do in the states, good restaurants generally have a chalkboard menu that you choose a prix fix of starter, main, dessert or a combination of two like starter and main. I like my sweets after a meal, but I find that generally the starters are the best things on the menu and as far as french desserts go, you've already tasted most of them because they've crossed the Atlantic and although they'll be good, you won't taste anything new or surprising. I also feel that by the time I get to dessert I have two bites and don't finish it, the starter is where it's at.<br /><br />In other food news, skip the chinese in France, it reminds me of what you would get if school cafeterias offered a chinese menu. One interesting food experience I had here was when we ordered a pizza here a couple weeks ago- we got creme fraiche on it and it was a winning experience, unlike some other creative offerings I've seen, like chicken, and corn in the UK. For my money, macaroons are totally overrated and overpriced and a pain au suisse kicks up a regular old pain au chocolate up a notch. After watching the Julie and Julia movie and reading Julia's book just before arriving I dropped a small fortune on trying Sole Meuniere because Julia has a Meg Ryan experience eating it in the movie, a bit of a waste of money if you ask my palette, it didn't hold it's own. I'd say ditto for the Beef Bourguignon. My two cents on the whole Julia Child cookbook thing, is it's about as useless as it is pretty. People don't eat the same today as they did 50 years ago anywhere, our tastes have changed somewhat and so has the alimentation available. I'm not advocating McDonalds eating, just that today's chefs have amped up or reinterpreted older recipes with new life, and a simple google search will reveal great recipe options without the hulk of that brick.<br /><br />Anytime you have friends over or are invited your bound to experience the Apero, this is the drink and snack portion of the experience almost similar to the Brits tradition of having tea. French wine glass are very small and so it truly is just a bit of alcohol like a pastis, a kir, whisky and coke, anything you like actually, and some bar snacks, nuts, cheese, olives. I've found as much as the food, the way of eating is as enjoyable as the food itself.Miss Rosiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04737399727051069638noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2785609521191603711.post-69685569642827182472010-12-24T17:20:00.002+01:002010-12-24T17:57:34.761+01:00LanguageLately I've been feeling a little self-conscious about speaking English with Sylvain in French settings. We met through a French friend that left us on our our own for a few hours while we sat at a bar nursing Southern Comfort, we hardly knew each other and Sylvain's English was barely conversational, so I resorted to drawing pictures on cocktail napkins to help get my point across. We celebrated our second anniversary this past weekend and I asked him what his first impression was that night, his response: I thought you were good at drawing stuff... <br /><br />We've talked to a lot of bilingual couples like ourselves many of whom have relocated to France, all of them say it's impossible to switch languages- meaning, if you initially spoke English, it's impossible to switch to French. Of course in our case my French isn't nearly as good as Sylvain's English is now, but I've noticed despite my French having improved significantly, I still switch to English when speaking with Sylvain even in French situations. Apparently this is the general case for bilingual couples, a friend of mine would love to switch to English with her boyfriend, but it just doesn't work because they started in French, and even when I consciously try to practice my French with Sylvain he responds in English out of habit, even if two seconds earlier I reminded him to speak French.<br /><br />Still it reminds me of when I was younger and bilingual folks would speak their language amongst each other while we who spoke only English knew naught of what was being said. That feeling that they are talking about you in front of you instead of behind your back, or simply of being excluded. Why didn't they speak English in front of you when they knew how to. What were they saying to each other that you didn't understand. This never really made me feel too uncomfortable, but I know for some it does. Having lived in a foreign language country for a year it was sometimes nice to be able tune it all out, not to have to listen to the conversation next to me because it was being conducted in a foreign language it was easy to do so.<br /><br />I have an Indian cousin who speaks her native language with her children, but she has very good reason to, she wants them to be bilingual and they aren't going to be if they aren't exposed to the language. Living in an English speaking country, this is crucial to their language development and appreciation. Moreover it's pretty obvious when the conversation includes me that I'm included and it's conducted in English, if on the other hand she's telling her son to put on his seatbelt, I'm not really missing much and I trust that what she's saying is for their ears and would be rather dull: tie your shoes, stop running around, it's your bedtime... Trust me sometimes I think we're better off not understanding, after being a nanny for a year I would get so bored of telling A to sit down in her chair or she'd get hurt and for S to stop talking and start eating if there were other's in the room who didn't speak English they'd have been lucky not to have understood the same banal commands over and over.<br /><br />Language is a really complex thing, the way we express our desires needs and feelings with each other is often done through the spoken word. However in can be exclusive and hurtful too. In some situations it's a basic need. When I speak with Sylvain who is my other half I want to be understood in the clearest terms possible, for us that is in English. People often develop close relationships with other's because they feel that the other person understands them best. There are various other forms of communication; art, body language, but when it comes down to it, we connect to others based on shared ideas which are more often than not transmitted through the spoken language.Miss Rosiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04737399727051069638noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2785609521191603711.post-53675128616819210342010-12-11T10:37:00.003+01:002011-01-03T18:28:42.710+01:00Not SmartA few months ago we saw a lawyer to advice us on how to get married. This week she finally emailed us back... I guess that's what you can expect when you use legal aid. <br /><br />It takes a flow chart to consider our future... Ultimately our first choice is to settle in London, when we get married if Sylvain gains employment there, this will (according to our information and the freedom of movement EU law, this is possible) allow me to work in the UK too. <br /><br />From now until then our plans are rather bizarre... I'm not sure anything would have changed if we knew then what we know now but we are headed back to the states for something like 8 months... Why? Well, the only really solid reason is that Sylvain's internship ends at the end of the month, thus he has the choice of trying to get a job or trying to get an internship in the states: a job would keep us here for 2 or 3 years and an internship in the states although potentially really difficult to get, will give his resume more diversity and a move back to the states will allow me to try and work in my field even if that means being a substitute teacher.<br /><br />We did a fairly decent job on the research end of getting married in France, the carte de sejours and the rest, when we looked into getting married in the states, we for some reason neglected to look into the greencard issue and only looked into the actual getting married... So, of course, it seemed cheaper and easier to get married in the states... From our current understanding of the situation, a carte de sejour and getting married in France might end up costing about 500 euros- according to a friend who just went through the process this year, and as far as we can tell if I enter with a longterm visa because we plan to marry I can get my papers in within a few months (although or American friend who just got married is still waiting so who knows), or at least have a titre de sejour which should allow me to work while I wait for my carte de sejour... France is notoriously finicky about these things, often one clerk will say one thing and another something entirely different regarding paperwork, and filing processes, so this is in part why getting married in France seemed like the headache of all headaches.<br /><br />However after consulting the greencard process, we're looking at spending 4-6k dollars and Sylvain wouldn't be able to work during the filing process which our estimate gleaned from the internet would be 7-12 months... Since we want to live in Europe, we just figured, why bother with the greencard, its expensive and the economy is awful.<br /><br />So I'm not sure any of our grand plans would have changed in the long run, but it feels a little stupid to have neglected to research the greencard more extensively in a post 9-11 America...Miss Rosiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04737399727051069638noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2785609521191603711.post-75356556097317778292010-12-04T13:29:00.003+01:002011-01-03T18:31:56.961+01:00Winter WonderlandIt's been really cold this week and neither our heat nor the heat where I work is sufficient. I'm happy to wear layers inside, but this week I've been leaving my hat and scarf on inside, which, I think, is a bit much... Yesterday however the temp went up a little and my little charge and I had to go to Picard to get some frozen meatballs, which are, her favorite... On our way home we ran into the concierge at her apartment and this woman, whom I like, but generally shares her opinion more often then necessary. She is a typical concierge: she makes it her business to know everything about everyone who passes through her front door. For the most part, this keeps everyone safer and I can see no harm, however there are days... One day she brought the plombier up to inspect a leak, she followed him around while he worked, which in some ways, is fine, however she made it her concern that the dryer was hot and that whoever put the clothes in for an hour was crazy, totalement fou! and it needed to be turned off toute suite! See, in France, clothes get dried on low-heat and when they're almost dry, they're dry... It's great for the environment (although not as great as a clothes line would be) but it's obviously not American... (other things that are American but not European: anti-biotics).<br /><br />Anyway, yesterday the concierge asked if my wee one was wearing collants (leggings) due to the cold (the same woman who was just sweeping the sidewalk without a coat). She was upset because A had on some flannel pants and they weren't (and I had to agree with her) seemingly very warm. But of course she wasn't wearing collants, and neither was I she complained, and I heard a three minute lecture about how Americans were crazy, JUST CRAZY... I left this tete a tete annoyed, but by the time we reached the 3rd floor I remembered that as a child I wore tights everyday during the winter, even my cousin Joey who was my daily companion and a dude wore his older sisters old tights under his pants... And my annoyance melted away at this memory, because we were awesome in our cable-knit balling and fuzzy tights.<br /><br />Other news this week- I gave my months notice! Yay, for la fin de ce chapitre de ma vie!Miss Rosiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04737399727051069638noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2785609521191603711.post-31446127492525846662010-11-25T19:01:00.003+01:002010-11-25T19:26:21.319+01:00Thanksgiving AbroadIn the last 10 years I've spent 5 of them abroad, 3 in London, last year we were in Chile, and this year, Paris. I don't remember what I ate that first year in London, but I remember my roommate Annie, who was studying abroad with me had tacos. In a way it was a pretty American homage because mexican food doesn't really happen in London. I know she invited me to share her American meal and I remember declining having already eaten. The last year I was in London friends made a big meal for me and another American friend and I had delicious parsnips for the first time. <br /><br />It's really hard to give a shit when you are without all the cultural connections. I'm from Green Bay Wisconsin and football is sort of a big deal where I grew up. But it's next to impossible to watch these games abroad unless you're willing to stay up past your bedtime, which isn't an especially good idea when you have to work the next day because it's not a holiday wherever you're living. Plus who cares, if no one else cares- I'm not going to shout at the boob tube at 3 am by myself in my jammies half awake wondering how Joe Buck still has a job- where's the fun in that? I've lived in New York for a while but I have never been to the parade, nonetheless the hype surrounding it is enough; plus when you're in NYC during Thanksgiving you are hyper aware of avoiding the tourist scene so as not to lose your time and patience so in a way, by going out of your way to avoid it at all costs you were still a part of it. <br /><br />It's not impossible, but it is pretty hard to find or at least afford traditional Thanksgiving food stuffs while abroad- you can get oreo's and peanut butter, even cream cheese is available on the shelves in both Chile, London and Paris, but cranberries and turkey's aren't exactly standard fare. Today I spent more than 20 bucks on a chicken that is thankfully without hormones, and thus about half the size of an American chicken. With a bottle of wine and a couple of sides, we could have had a decent meal out, but American's who dine out on Thanksgiving seemed to be missing the point, and I remember feeling so much pity for a school friend of mine whose family did this...<br /><br />A couple days ago Sylvain and I started talking about what traditions we want to start or share when we start our own family. We were making crepes on Saturday night and decided this would be a genius meal to make routine, which apparently is something his family did every Sunday night anyway... Crepes are fun for the whole family, like dessert and a meal, salty this round, sweet the next... Our kids are going to love it. Wherever we end up, I hope we will find a way to create a hybrid Thanksgiving with expats or whomever likes to eat and drink well. Definitely going to have to take that day and maybe the next off of work though...Miss Rosiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04737399727051069638noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2785609521191603711.post-48256839330543557112010-11-06T14:29:00.002+01:002010-11-06T15:05:22.626+01:00Tis the seasonLast weekend my friend Dave visited from London. We went golfing, had brunch, enjoyed the view at Butte Chaumont and generally had a full but relaxing weekend... and the clocks changed...Somehow this kicked off the holiday season for me. Waking up when it's already light, and finishing work just as the night sky is setting in. It's changed my mood entirely... <br /><br />We have about 2 months left in Paris, this week were going to London to get my passport stamped, the following weekend we have up to 3 thanksgiving celebrations planned, then we'll spend the next weekend in Lyon for our nieces birthday, that leaves a few free weekends in December before Christmas where we're going to celebrate in Lyon and then spend 3 days snowboarding... It will go fast, but I hope time slows just enough to take it all in. I'm excited for the next chapter, back to NYC but I am anxious not to hurry things along. I love this season, playing Christmas music during the day with the girls, making christmas sweets and planning a thanksgiving menu, the coziness of fall, leaves floating and even that scent in the air at Bois de Boulogne. I half hate myself for enjoying the commercial aspects of Christmas shopping, but something about picking out the perfect gift for loved ones sucks me in every year... We have next to no money, and the money we do have we have tightly clenched in our fists in case everything falls apart when we get to NYC but we've got a secret santa 20 euro budget for his family. <br /><br />Something about NYC and the states right now seems very fragile... there is a bug bed epidemic in NYC- I survived one in London and New York already, but I'd rather not fight that battle again. The political situation in New York is angry and vitriolic, and it's a battle that seems like it's really just getting started. The job crisis is still entrenched and no matter how capable either of us are, if the opportunities aren't there... well...<br /><br />There is still so much to enjoy about being in Paris, and we will not move back to Paris even if we do end up back in France or Europe. Dinner parties in French, Bichon au citron, Sylvain's family, and of course, the calm before the storm...Miss Rosiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04737399727051069638noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2785609521191603711.post-22335698987416892882010-11-06T14:23:00.001+01:002010-11-06T14:23:36.322+01:00I think we needed thishttp://whatthefuckhasobamadonesofar.com/Miss Rosiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04737399727051069638noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2785609521191603711.post-21406108489235113442010-10-28T22:19:00.005+02:002010-10-28T23:17:04.591+02:00CleanseTwo years ago I drove to Cambridge to visit my friend Schuy and to plan our hike up Mt Kilimanjaro, when I arrived he had just finished a juice detox cleanse. I think the NYT did an article about cleanses and featured the one he did, it was premade juice meals delivered to your house with idiot proof labels for 200 bucks or so. The description of his poo that week was fascinating. For a while now I've been feeling like I need my own cleanse. At the beginning of September I was taking the 82 bus back to Neuilly from the American Library, my seatmate noticed my babysittee sitting in the seat in front of us, was a whiz at her Leapfrog - at first I didn't know what she was talking about because I have a misplaced memory of this handheld thing being called a "whipit" and so it took me a minute to make the connection. We got to talking, she too was American and she told me she was an energy healer. At the time, I thought cool, and I asked her how regularly the French utilized her services as frankly, I'm coming to feel like Parisians live like they are wearing a stick up their asses, and having sought out yoga here I haven't found a very enthusiastic community of yogis, so I figured other, potentially more spiritual avenues wouldn't really get much of a following. She assured me it was an underground thing.<br /><br />I've basically had it up to hear with Parisians. A few days a week I take the girls on long scooter rides in the neighborhood or the Bois de Boulogne- I've started playing this game with myself where I say Bonjour to everyone we pass, and generally tally how many people return my friendliness. It's roughly about 50%. <br /><br />In August I spent 3 weeks in the states where it was midwestern manners no matter where I went. Hello, Goodbye, excuse me, no, you first. I had clearly been in Paris too long, this neighborly friendliness among strangers literally disoriented me. It all felt so foreign that I regularly commented on the unfamiliarity of kind words and niceties. <br /><br />I wouldn't give up this year in Paris for anything, but I wouldn't come back to live here for anything either (this is not intended to slag off all of France, just Paris). It has gotten to me. The other night I totally bitched Sylvain out for using the last of the toilet paper and leaving me stranded. I'd argue that's kind of a good reason to get upset but he did have a cold so he was using it for tissue and I got out the crazy a little. But where is the joy here? Everyone is suspicious and instead of giving anyone the benefit of the doubt they give you the evil eye. I get pushed around on the metro all the time, this weekend at Centre Pompidou an old lady actually pushed me, old men tell me where to go and what to do with my bag if they find me or it in the way, old ladies refuse to say Bonjour in the park. I don't want to live with so much negativity around me all the time, and I'd run to see that energy healer if I had gotten her card. <br /><br />I cant wait to get back to NYC, but part of me feels I will need to exorcise this negative energy I've got building up inside me. It's rubbing off on me, I hate being a nanny, and I am bored all day long starring at puzzles and feeling like each day from 9-6 I'm storing up anger and resentment for having to do something so dull and mindless, each day the same as the last but beholden to the whims of a 4 year old bully. A month ago I tried to tackle the problem with a couple earnest trips to a yoga class that offered what was actually a decent Zen garden courtyard, but the class was a dud and the instructor kept trying to get me to make noise breathing through my nose, when I didn't get loud enough right away she didn't give up on me like I wanted her to. I mean, that's great if you're learning to read, or to do equations but if you're at yoga and you're trying to breath loud the more effort you put into something like that, the more likely you are to embarrass yourself with undesirable ejections in this cold and flu season - and frankly you don't want to hold up the class with your insufficient breathing- yoga isn't for the judgmental, but if you can't get the breathing right, during the first 5 seconds of class, your basically exposing yourself as a yoga fraud. Yeah sure you've been doing this for years... After I gave up on yoga at 20 euros an hour I decided to give Haagen Dazs a try, and for a week I consumed ice cream with every meal. Unsurprisingly, it cleansed nothing but added 5 pounds onto my frame.<br /><br />I'm sure a juice cleanse is not what I need, but I am sure there is something that needs to be ingested or purged to rediscover my former self... Maybe I just need someone to hold me while incanting Your Welcome! thank you! Good Morning! Excuse me! No You Sit! in a thick midwestern accent.Miss Rosiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04737399727051069638noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2785609521191603711.post-88566828097428975072010-10-23T20:26:00.003+02:002010-10-23T20:45:34.960+02:00OctoberI was rudely awoken by my cat flying across the room around 9:30am... After yelling at my sick boyfriend who had launched Manny off the bed after he had attempted to scratch Sylvain's eyes out as he is won't to do after being attracted to fluttering eyelids, I went to the kitchen to give Manny the love and attention he sought and after a reactionary but altogether unnecessary flight, I felt he deserved...<br /><br />When I returned to bed Sylvain acknowledged that what he had done had been out of line with the assault that had taken place on his face. Having experienced the attempt at gauging out my eyes, I know it can be very disarming, but flinging him across the room, was wrong.<br /><br />After acknowledging the mauvais temps dehors, we decided to grab crepes at the place literally next door to our building, I was getting anxious about going because usually the place is packed, it's a neighborhood place and I figured with the weather, maybe it would be impossible to find a table, since there were only four. I had needlessly worried however when we entered, it was just the owners and their dog Nino. As long as a dog is not miniature, or jumpy, I am immediately best friends with it. There are a lot of dogs in Neuilly where I work and I spend a lot of time pointing them out to the two girls I nanny for, presenting them more as if they were a great work of architecture or the eiffel tower, than just golden retrievers and beagles. As per usual Sylvain ordered with more insight then I, and I made him share, and then finish my crepe, all the while petting Nino and asking him if he wanted to trade places with Manny, as Nino was chill and less likely to attack in the wee hours of the morning.<br /><br />We had briefly considered going to the Jean Michel Basquiat show, but I just wasn't feeling the outing, our apartment is always cold, and I knew that being wet and cold was not the way I wanted to spend my day. I suggested instead we go to monoprix and get food. We did and god knows how we spent the next few hours, but I ended up reading a New York Times article about the show the Millionaire Matchmaker- the shows "host" I had seen on Oprah once but otherwise I'd not seen the show... Of course I searched for episodes on surf the channel and Sylvain and I dug in... This season takes place in NYC, and of course, I'm in. <br /><br />I've been missing the creature comforts of home of late, especially Netflix and Barnes and Nobles. Today, if I had had my way, I would have spent the rainy afternoon with an overpriced starbucks green tea nursing the latest issues of my favorite magazines at my local Barnes and Nobles.Miss Rosiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04737399727051069638noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2785609521191603711.post-50511074444248986072010-10-22T22:03:00.003+02:002010-10-22T22:27:27.195+02:00The GreveI'm a little confused about this greve situation in france. The last week here in Paris has been business as usual as far as I can tell. However on Thursday my boss sent me an email that the US embassy security update- warning Americans to avoid demonstrations, a general tourist warning and of course a notice that if you were planning on renting a car you might have a problem finding petrol... As a side note, I'm not entirely sure why my boss sent me this, 1, I work everyday and renting a car here is out of the question- and, they have a car and haven't seemed to have the slightest problem with getting gas, 2, as my boss sees about as much of Paris as I do on a typical day he must have noticed that things aren't the least bit different from the week before or last month, perhaps he thinks I care about whether the French get one more year of retirement and that I'd be willing to use my personal time to fight the power... I don't think the demonstrators have just cause for their anti-reform stance, and even if I did, it's starting to get cold here and I'd rather be downloading the season finale of MadMen.<br /><br />Still, it's a little alarming that I keep reading in American news media that France is a scary place full of rioters. Sylvain works everyday in Nanterre where there have been isolated incidences apparently- he has not noticed anything. Sylvain is from Lyon, his parents haven't reported anything worth mentioning. Have their been rioters? There must have been, but it seems to me that America today is a far scarier place to live... especially if you're Muslim. <br /><br />We are a couple weeks away from an election that could paralyze governance even more than it already is. Sarah Palin is getting out her misinformed vote, Christine O'Donnell is spreading her crazy, Alaska is in the news again (remember when Alaska was an afterthought, totally forgettable, ah, I miss those glory days) and Tennessee and New York are battling it out for who can be angrier and stupider. On top of that NPR is getting heat because they fired Juan WIlliams because he is a bigot and he is supposed to be a neutral reporter- firing sounds about right to me... <br /><br />What happened to my country? I miss the days when crazy and stupid was isolated to the President and his cabinet.<br /><br />The only answer I can think of is Fox News.Miss Rosiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04737399727051069638noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2785609521191603711.post-75407147274592478202010-10-17T18:26:00.002+02:002010-10-17T18:36:36.129+02:00Legal Aid in ParisSylvain and I went to see a lawyer last week, the offices of the french version of legal aid were as dilapidated as the school I taught in in the Bronx, but as we followed our lawyer into her office we were full of hope for answers that we anxiously awaited. Unfortunately we literally got no answers, our lawyer "was used to working with Africans" and literally couldn't tell us once and for all what documents we would need to get PAC'ed. After asking our list of questions, without receiving even a flicker of "wait I know this one!" Sylvain asked for her email address and said he'd email our questions so she could do some research... <br /><br />We left knowing this- PAC wasn't going to work if for no other reason then by the time we did get definitive answers we'd already be gone- we are moving back to the states in January and filing for PAC's can take a month or two. So, nevermind. Marriage it is then, perhaps we'll have to hire a lawyer in New York when we get there to sort our situation out to some extent. Even post 9-11 it seems that the states cuts through the bullshit and makes marrying a European a more or less straightforward affair. Court house weddings in New York require a license and a passport, check, check. Still our major concern when we got the ball rolling on all of this is where we could live (and work) post marriage... we're hoping Montreal works out...Miss Rosiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04737399727051069638noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2785609521191603711.post-4125349345088307522010-10-16T20:47:00.002+02:002010-10-16T20:59:04.064+02:00Alliance FrancaiseI feel obliged to post my mauvaise experience at Alliance Francaise Paris. I chose AF because I had an amazing AF experience at the New York location, but after two months and two awful teachers I am taking my hard earned money elsewhere. The classes are really expensive, the two teachers I've had have been polar opposites of the spectrum- one was seasoned but regularly called our Sri Lankan classmate Pakistani, which should not have been hard to remember considering at that time there were only 5 of us, and she was uncomfortable teaching us modern French, as in, the French that people speak as opposed to the French people spoke 50 years ago. Her methods were old school, she didn't use technology and stuck to the curriculum she'd been teaching for the last 30 years. The latest teacher must be new because she has been a basket case, lost. I check my watch at least every few minutes, and while I have always loved learning, I find that I fake bathroom breaks and walk around the halls to waste time- in 20 years of education I have never done that before. <br /><br />My class is the highest section currently offered of Oral French right now (although in theory there are several higher levels), which is frustrating, there aren't any other sections offered on alternative days and the class size keeps swelling as more students add. My classmates and other friends I've met here feel the same about Alliance Francaise, when my course ends next week I will be looking for language exchange opportunities, or to pay a tutor; for anyone looking these offers are easy to find...Miss Rosiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04737399727051069638noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2785609521191603711.post-24805675664111946402010-09-28T22:13:00.004+02:002010-09-28T22:46:19.781+02:00Marriage PAC's, Lawyers<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnulswDZ2O_m_Ag9XSkV6i7dJtlxxtgmfUwtjmUhsQpmA-64jZR88U-N9Wd0cXhxKYUrmSdc7A0ySD-iF5BNfvJ5E9gi5J2-OK_5Jkt8ObJFJV8kY13E5fWXEgpnaod3bj55fTtuqSdmU/s1600/eggs.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnulswDZ2O_m_Ag9XSkV6i7dJtlxxtgmfUwtjmUhsQpmA-64jZR88U-N9Wd0cXhxKYUrmSdc7A0ySD-iF5BNfvJ5E9gi5J2-OK_5Jkt8ObJFJV8kY13E5fWXEgpnaod3bj55fTtuqSdmU/s320/eggs.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5522068347094343474" /></a><br />It's always a little strange in a relationship when you start seeing each other, and you know that if you like each other, getting serious means you have to get married. It's frustrating. I love an adventure, but this adventure is complicated, and confusing, and involves lawyers. If we had done it right, if we had planned ahead in the Type A way neither of us are, maybe, if were at different stages in our lives, this would have been a lot easier. But we are who we are, and we have been living in a sort of pay as you go, a la carte, figuring it out as we go way. <br /><br />We've been serious for a long time, or at least it feels like a long time. Although I guess it would if you've lived in 3 countries on three continents in less than a years time. I've sacrificed a lot, and I've no regrets, but the time has come to figure out how to stop sacrificing and start moving forward. <br /><br />I'm excited about the moving forward part, not because it involves babies, or weddings, but because I'm anxious to get a real job in the field I love, I'm anxious for Sylvain to get a real job, and I'm excited for us to not have to live in limbo constantly deciding whose going to end up with the short end of the stick. I hate putting him in a position where he has to sacrifice opportunities and I hate feeling like I'm sacrificing my opportunities. Making "us" official will finally put an end to all of this sacrifice, and the anger and resentment that would soon be rearing its ugly head if we put it off any longer.<br /><br />Living in France was at first deemed a trial for me- if we were going to be a franco-american couple we wanted to make sure that we were both capable of adjusting to the culture and living conditions of our respective homelands, I needed to work on my French and work out what the reality of French life would be. Since we met and lived in New York for 9 months, Sylvain already knew what to expect, but I wasn't sure what the limitations and advantages of living in france would be until I jumped in and gave it a trial run. The trial run was supposed to last 6-9 months, but after 6 months I realized I wanted to finish out the year as I didn't know if I'd have any teaching options to come home to in NYC. After moving into our new non-studio apartment, I'm wary about leaving again- we actually only have this apartment for 4 months, so even if we decided to stay, we still might end up having to move again but NY in January seems even more daunting... <br /><br />It's this question, the million dollar question, do we stay or do we go, that I finally pushed forward with the legality of our status. We have looked into PAC when we moved here, but somehow, it didn't seem like it would work for us, we'd been living together for a year already, but not in France, and in France we had no contract, or bills to prove that we lived together so how would we qualify? Moreover, when you're researching anything that involves paperwork in France it is a flow chart of confusion in a foreign language, that at least for me, actually was a foreign language. <br /><br />I recently had my mother send my birth certificate only to discover the birth certificate can't be older than 3 or 6 months depending on various websites. I also need to have a certificate verifying that I'm not already married, and then have that along with 10 other papers translated. <br /><br />In the end it doesn't look like PAC's would do us any good, and it seems like even more work than getting married in France. We had originally decided to get married at the court house in New York City, but after all this research and confusion, we are seeking out legal help. Nothing is as clear as it seems it should be. As clear as, I love this person and want to spend the rest of my life with this person building a family and a life together, where do we sign? <br /><br />I've said it before, I'll say it again; falling in love with an etranger is a pain in the ass, there is nothing remotely romantic about it, I don't even understand how France has this romantic reputation, with all their bloody bureaucracy, it's a wonder anyone ever fell in love here.Miss Rosiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04737399727051069638noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2785609521191603711.post-88497437067188523682010-09-05T18:24:00.002+02:002010-09-30T19:13:28.665+02:00Looking for an ApartmentSylvain and I were really lucky to have the opportunity to live in our friends apartment for the first 9 months of our lives in Paris. There is nothing as stressful as moving to a city and having nowhere to stay and feeling desperate to find something while at the same time trying to maintain a sense that life is fair- because put in that circumstance, desperation makes you ripe for those who would take advantage. You could end up paying much more for the monthly rent than the apartment is worth, but you could also be completely screwed over, you could trustingly give your money to someone who has no intention to handing over keys, or who is renting you the apartment without having any right to, leaving you susceptible to being robbed of your worldly possessions, your life savings and your trust in humanity.<br /><br />Looking for an apartment in Paris is a sketchy experience, we used craigslist and vivastreet almost exclusively and for every ten emails we sent out begging to get a chance to just "look" at an apartment, we might get one response. We had all the typical rental experiences: showing up to find no one to let us in, showing up to discover prostitutes on every corner, showing up and having the place be awful, showing up and having it be a scam to steal your three months up front in cash while the owner is in Morocco.<br /><br />It's hard to imagine not being a renter (as opposed to an owner), my life has not led to growing many roots anywhere, but at times it seems like a delicious taste of freedom that makes settling down almost worth it. We finally found a place about a week before we had to be out of our old place, we paid more than 4,000 euros in cash upfront for the 4 months we are renting it. I love our new space, it's perfect in every way our budget could expect, but the stress that built into a fever pitch leading up to finding it makes me long for the day when I am no longer living in a owners market in one of the biggest cities in the world.<br /><br />Give me some outdoor space and an oven already.Miss Rosiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04737399727051069638noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2785609521191603711.post-50280865928002093782010-08-29T19:30:00.004+02:002010-08-30T22:15:26.401+02:00Miss Rosiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04737399727051069638noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2785609521191603711.post-87023663313789348382010-08-27T18:11:00.004+02:002010-08-27T18:56:04.391+02:00SleepWednesday evening I went to yoga class and took off a very important necklace in order to preform downward dog without chipping a tooth. After class I absentmindedly left it on the floor next to where my mat was, and an hour later at dinner I realized as I went to touch said necklace which I imagined hanging around my neck, the oversight. I saw the yoga teacher pack up and leave the building so I knew I wouldn't be able to retrieve it and anxiously tried to push it out of my head as I was engaged in an evening of comedy at the Skyline Comedy Club in Appleton where my cousin removed once, possibly twice was preforming. Here I discovered laughter is the best medicine to keep anxiety as well as perhaps sadness and other ailments away. Unfortunately by the time I got home, my anxiety had settled in for the night and prepared to keep me awake until morning when I could call and email and and call again to see if anyone had discovered my necklace and whether I would be able to retrieve it before noon when I left for Paris. <br /><br />Keeping me awake was the thought that perhaps someone in class had found and desired my necklace and thus decided to keep it, since this was a yoga class I was attending, where everyone seemed to be regulars and also yoga teachers themselves, I considered this an unlikely scenario, but I left it play out in my thoughts a handful of times.<br /><br />I also considered the possibility that a cleaning crew came in at night to sweep, discovered it and decided to take it to beef up what is surely a meager wage for cleaning a rather desolate downtown building. This also seemed fairly unlikely but had more potential than the first scenario.<br /><br />Finally I considered that maybe someone had found the necklace, but that no yoga classes were scheduled and that I would not be able to reclaim the necklace before my flight. This scenario was especially scary because this is a necklace I wear on loan from my mother, admitting to her this oversight would result in a grave amount of guilt and punishment. I know my mother isn't particularly fond of the necklace or it wouldn't have been in my possession for the last 5 years, but it is quite valuable and there would inevitably be a fallout. I'm sure it's insured, but I could already feel the disappointment I would bear; my own as much as hers,<br /><br />Mostly I just lay awake anxious for 8am to roll around so I could wake up and find a phone number or email to call to inquire. <br /><br />Turns out they found my necklace, and I could pick it up before my flight, and alls well that ends well.<br /><br />Unfortunately, I barely got any sleep, and I would have a long day of flying with a four hour layover in Chicago. Like a very tired or crazy person I found an empty corner lay down on the floor and tried to get some rest, unfortunately the flight leaving before mine at the gate was canceled and due to regular gargling updates but agents at the desk I kept worrying that it was actually my flight being canceled and then my gate changed and there was no longer any space to be a resting person anyway. Once on board I watched a movie ate my dinner and prepared to sleep, but I found sleep evasive so I resorted to taking a tylenol PM. <br /><br />Once I arrived at customs they tried to keep me out of the country because my passport has been laundered and looks like it, I only have one page left free for stamps and the cover is starting to fall off. I said I promised to get a new one as soon as they let me in their fine country, and they gave me the look that said, ok but only because you're not a terrorist and obviously need to learn the lesson that passports are sacred and ought to be stored in safe places that dont end up in the spin cycle. <br /><br />The problem though with taking tylenol PM is that even if you bite it in half and take a small dose, like I did , if you dont get a restful 8-10 hours of sleep you end up with a tylenol PM hangover similar to a regular hangover but without the vomiting and headache. It's like a fuzz that settles into your brain, an inability for synapse firing, the total shut down of brain function. Math would be difficult, and French or probably any other language, nearly impossible.<br /><br />So when I went to take my Alliance Francaise placement test, it was disappointing but hardly surprising that even after 8 months of living in France, I did not graduate out of level B1. I tried not to make excuses for my lack of success, it wasn't and isn't because I am not able to speak or understand French, it's mostly because I fait beaucoup de fautes. I make a lot of mistakes, anyone can understand me, I just use all the wrong genders, and have been too lazy to learn to speak in complex ways using anything other than the past, present and future. <br /><br />But I'm okay with not being a pro, after all I'm here to learn and everyone has to start somewhere. I've learned a lot in the last 8 months, I just didn't learn how to put it to use correctly, and so as the fuzz brain hangover fades away let the complex sentence structures seep in.Miss Rosiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04737399727051069638noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2785609521191603711.post-47954171633014105382010-07-31T12:22:00.003+02:002010-07-31T12:44:37.188+02:00Alliance Francaise ParisI took two semesters of Alliance Francaise classes my last winter and spring in New York, I had an amazing teacher similar to my amazing French teacher from DePaul when I was a freshman in college. In short it was a great experience where I met very interesting people and came home Tuesday and Thursday nights inspired and eager to practice French with Sylvain. When I first got to Paris I had planned on taking French lessons, but I had to first secure a job, and second to save enough money to feel comfortable spending money on something that I could in some ways get for free. I improved my French watching French TV, talking with our French friends and to some extent, reading in French... But Sylvain and I don't speak French together, we communicate in English. Of course this is dumb on our part, I would be far more fluent in French than I currently am, if only we spent some of our time together conversing in French. We don't though, occasionally I implore him to at least speak to me in French, but he forgets and although he is eager for me to gain proficiency, he isn't eager enough to speak French to me, unless he's mad at me, then he will shout at me in French and watch- amusingly, I'm sure- as I slowly unravel what it is he just said to me, 2 minutes later when I've sorted it out he thinks I'm breaking his balls (this phrase I have down by now) the argument is over due to the time lapse, nerves having calmed.<br /><br />I just signed up for 10 weeks of Alliance Francaise classes here in Paris, although this time I'll just be taking oral conversation. I've spent 8 years of my schooling taking French and learning all that grammar was great, but in reality, I use so little of it when actually living my life in France where in conversation I rely heavily upon the past and the present verb conjugation. <br /><br />Living in Paris has been a really positive experience despite how difficult it has sometimes been adjusting, but the reason I came here, or rather the reason it was important I come here was to learn French. My life is tied to a French persons, whose family and whose friends are French speaking and who I want to be able to understand and communicate with on a deeper level than weather, eager for the day I can make and understand jokes.Miss Rosiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04737399727051069638noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2785609521191603711.post-21178318273611987752010-07-25T17:43:00.002+02:002010-07-25T18:28:19.562+02:00Jardin des PlantesFriday I took the girls to the Jardin de Tuileries, and we walked back some towards the champs elysee in a garden space called Proust something, a perfect place to have a picnic, which we did. A has this thing about taking off her shoes, she wants them off in the library, in any park and pretty much everywhere else, she has a fetish for having her feet held, I see no point in stopping her anymore. Picking your fights with a two year old with a typical case of the terrible twos, well I can't blame her if she relishes in grass underfoot, in the confines of the city, its a rare treat. We rode the ferris wheel in Tuileries and although three revolutions cost a pricey 8 euros, it was offset by the stunning views of the city and the fact that my employers covered the cost. Despite a little rain shower- as S says, the clouds are crying- we had a nice picnic and walking back to the metro we sang Oh Champs Elysee while dodging annoying tourists.<br /><br />Saturday my friend from High school came to spend the night and after a coffee we put together our snacks and headed to the Jardin des Plantes, the parks here are insanely groomed- it is definitely not my preference, but they do tend to be beautiful in a look but don't touch way. All parks in Paris are full of benches and chairs to watch the beauty of nature, but from a safe distance lest you trample the nature that has been so acutely tamed and organized. Stroll along the sandy stone paths, rest on a perfectly placed bench, but don't even think about entering into the mise en scene and "experiencing" nature, it's only there to look at lest a human touch spoil the aesthete. You can be part of the tableau, but never lose yourself, escaping the demands of the city feeling the touch of wet green grass or the shade of a tree, lying on your back and examining the shapes of the clouds. Certainly nothing as reckless as a game of frisbee.<br /><br />Afterwards Sylvain and Florian met us and we headed to la Seine for some boteillon and watched the tourist boats go by with a view of the derriere de Notre Dame. Near us a man was burning incense and alternating between playing the accordion and finger cymbals. A woman in a typical garishly white wedding dress posed with her new mate for photos. Florian was waiting for a text to see if his Satan Poem was good enough to gain him entry into the Fete de Satan and we teased him to recite his poem for us slam style. <br /><br />We headed home after some terrible sushi and finished our bottle of wine and some more beers with our entertaining friend Nat. Ending the night after our neighbor told us around 2:30am to use our quiet voices after Nat gave us his impression of a Judo master.Miss Rosiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04737399727051069638noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2785609521191603711.post-84946529148880482062010-07-20T21:26:00.003+02:002010-07-25T17:43:09.423+02:00Americans in Paris part deuxThis summer my employers are hosting their niece who is 16. She is textbook teenager and for the first few hours of our time spent together she said about 4 words to me- all one word responses to my questions, until she confessed to me that after 3 hours in Paris she was having withdrawal symptoms from her cell phone... Ben oui... Her aunt and uncle admitted to me that she was comatose most of the time around them and they decided to talk to her about how she spends her time here since this month in Paris was their 16th birthday present for her. No more sleeping until 11, clean up after yourself (I am not her nanny after all) and get out and do something, at minimum step up her interaction with her two young cousins.<br /><br />Two weeks later, she's starting to come out of her shell, a little (she has yet to ask me a single personal question- am I just hired help for her? probably). But, she is painstakingly American in her... let's say perspective... She has already raised concerns over the French penchant for eating raw meat (hello! are we not over cooking our meat until it's well done? I mean sushi has been around long enough by now hasn't it?) she is concerned about the European tradition of not refrigerating milk or eggs at the grocery store, the smoking, or course... But today, it hit a fever pitch, we went to the local pool. This pool is located in Neuilly, it's not your typical YMCA affair, there are 4 pools, two water slides, bubbling areas, outside areas, picnic areas and it's all really, really... nice. We met my girls' best friends and their mother there but this girl stood outside the pool not sullen, but as if a brooding teenager for a good 30 minutes before resigning to join us inside the pool. I thought at first this might be because everyone in Paris is...tight, perk, lean, and she is sort of rocking the overweight teenager look. But no, that wouldn't explain her general disengagement, besides I didn't notice any boys her age and mostly the pool was full of older woman, mothers or young children. <br /><br />Then the reveal. When her aunt came home from work tonight she asked how she liked the pool. I DIDN'T, IT WAS TERRIBLE!!! In my head, is a big question mark ? does she just not like sun and swimming? Some people don't I get that, but then why not say so, I mean, she didn't actually have to join us- it's not a requirement to spend a 91 degree day at the pool. THERE WERE NAKED PEOPLE! Here my brain starts scanning through the people I saw poolside- it's true French woman take their bikini tops (why would you wear a one piece if you have a perfect body after all? and tie the part that goes around their necks, around their backs thus making a sort of haphazard bandeau top- but I had not noticed anyone topless and although you could very occasionally see the hint of a nipple slipping out, it was hardly shocking considering, well, if you take the children under 10 out of the equation, 99% of the people at the pool were female, and second most French woman have boobs the size of most 12 year old girl boobs. Can the hint of a boob that doesn't fill out a training bra, nipple or not really color your experience to such an extent?<br /><br />Much like I am writing this, I am certain that this will be the highlight of her Paris experience thus far and that tonight her emails home will reinforce the "naked beach" stereotype about the French.Miss Rosiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04737399727051069638noreply@blogger.com0