You’re gettin to me.

Ok so Paris is nice and all, but it’s not a fricking amazing place. Honestly I can’t think of any city that is just amazing. Paris is know for romance. Meh. Known for art. Meh. Culture. Meh. All fo that.

Sure it has that stuff. But it doesn’t make it magical. When you look at it, it’s just a big, old, city.

I sat out in the 30 degree cold for an hour last night, at the Trocadero looking over Paris with a direct view of the Eiffel Tower. It was it’s orangy-glow as usual. I sat there, trying to figure out what the fuck Marguerite it doing in Paris. Seriously, here I am, at 11pm, sitting directly in front of the Eiffel Tower. I’m in Paris. I look around, there’s only 10 or 12 people in all of the trocadero plaza. It’s eerily quiet, with the faint hum of traffic by the Quai. The sky is a somber purple-orange and the searchlights from the Tower obnxiously rotate around over an over……so this is Paris. It’s just a city. With a big piece of glowing iron towering over it. Sure, it has it’s nice architecture and has priceless works of art…but in the end, does that mean anything? To me, no.

Good for you Paris. You have fancy and remarkable works of art housed in big fancy buildings. Good for you Paris. You have a big heap of iron that sparkles for 60 sec on the hour at night. Great.

But you’re still a city. A city with loads of trash, dog poop, chewing gum, and more dog poop littering your streets. You have obnoxious waiters and bar tenders who love to pick on you when you are eating alone in a café. You have annoying young people who think they own the world.

This isn’t uniquely Paris. Cities are like this everywhere. Garbage, hautiness, and morons all bunched together. Lovely.

I like Paris as a city that just happens to have very nice buildings, and pretty parks. But there is nothing special to me about Paris. It’s just a city.

I was sitting there, staring at the Eiffel Tower, trying to get myself to believe that I really was i Paris. I kept telling myself, you’re in Paris. This is THE Paris. But my brain wouldn’t believe me. I couldn’t figure out why it wasn’t registering in my brain that I was in Paris. France. The European continent.

I realized that it’s because THE Paris is mythical, magical, and all of that. But what i was seeing (and have been seeing since i got here) is just a city. To me, there is no THE Paris. It’s just, Paris. a big old city.

So why am I here? I don’t want to do art history. Sure i love to look at old stuff, it’s great to actually see it in person. But what am I to do when this is over? I want to be an actress. I’m not doing anything towards that goal here. Going to my art history classes is a joke. Sure i’ll listen and make sure to work hard in the class, but this isn’t what i want to do when i’m out of college. I just sit there, slightly disinterested because it has nothing to do with my career choice.

These realizations are total Debbie-Downers, obviously. As if that wasn’t enough for me to deal with, I also got disinterested with my surrounding social issues.

For example, today I overheard a girl speaking french with an american accent, talking to a french girl about how she lives in D.C and shit. This was while I was waiting for my art history class to start. She clearly did not know anyone, so i thought i might as well try to start a convo with her. After all, we’re both new here, why not? I didn’t even get a chance. Shot down so fast. I sit next to her and ask her “Vous êtes des Etats-Unis?” and she looks me up and down and says “oui” then skooches over to the french girl, who was only half interested in what she was saying. Dang, bitch. Ok, so maybe she just wanted real french friends? but how the hell did she know I wasn’t a french girl? I sat there thinking how stupid i looked for trying to make a friend till class started. We all went inside and the american girl sat next to the french girl. The french girl started talking to her friends from last semester and completely ignored the american girl.

I sat next to a girl from Romania, she was new too so i was glad that SOMEone was willing to talk to me.

But dang it i was pissed by how that other girl acted like I was so annoying and i only said 4 words to her.

My waiter was a douche too, when i had lunch. Asking “are you sure you are eating alone”? Why yes, douchebag yes I am eating all alone. I gave him a very cold look and responded “yes, absolutely alone sir”. He never gave me my bill, i had to track him down for it. Then he never came to get my money. The bartender woman just looked at me with a snob look and i gave her a cold look as well.

My friends have also been giving me a hard time. Not all of them, so don’t go freaking yourself out. But some are just not understanding common courtesy and such. I seem to be the friend that everyone wants to hang out with ONLY when they are very bored or have no one else to hang out with. I’m not kidding, and i’m not trying to over dramtize it so that everyone goes “oh poor marguerite” fuck that shit. I mean it. This isn’t necessarily happening on this trip, i just mean overall in my life it has always been like this. When I need something, there aren’t too many choices in friends that i can count on. And that really is just rude. I mean that as in it’s rude for ANYONE to be like that to anyone.

You know that saying “you don’t know what you have until it’s gone”? well even on this trip some of my friends don’t seem to care about that either. Really. Great.

So you know what? Fine. This has happened so many times before to me, and instead of being depressed and bitching and moaning about them and getting my feelings hurt, i’m just gonna walk away. I don’t have time to be disrespected (which sounds very funny but hopefully someone will kinda understand what I mean). Just grow up. If you seriously don’t really appreciate me as a friend (and here, “friend” means a two-way street where one cares for the other and so on and so forth), don’t waste both of our time. Trying to act like you care is so fucking fake and obvious that i can see right through you. And i can’t get myself to point it out to you that you look like a jackass. If you’re going to just start using me or whatever, just go away. I’d rather be all alone than have a bunch of fake friends.

Which is why I decided to be “out” indefinitely from here and other places for a while. Too much fake shit going on, i don’t need this. I need time to think. There’s more to say but i don’t want to write it out here, for sake of upsetting people for no real reason…since there seems to be many people who are constantly in fear that every word someone writes about “a friend” or anything could be them, even though it’s .0001% likely that it IS about them.

I can’t get out what i really want to say. So that’s why i’m “signing out” for a bit, to get it out of my system and shit.

Long story. Best to not try and understand what I just wrote, cuz it’s likely that even I wouldn’t understand what i just wrote if i read it, which I never do. I just write and then go away.

C ya later.

Up-to-date time!

Alright. So many people are asking me “tell  me about Paris bla bla bla!” and i’ve been so busy doing stuff i havent had the time to answer everyone. So i thought i would be easier to write this, and just tell people to reference it haha.

Last Thursday I arrived in Paris. After being lost in the airport for a while, I finally found my group Directrice, who is Mme. Schneersohn (but i call her Schnebluh since her name is hard to say) and we took a taxi to our hostel. It was in the 12ème arrond., which is absolutely dead and depressing and boring. But the hostel wasn’t super creepy so that’s good lol. I shared a room with 2 other girls, one’s from CUA like me and the other is from Wisconsin. I was pretty homesick the first day (and the second), but now i could care less lol.

We all had dinner at the hostel, the food was passable, and we got to know each other etc. We walked around the neighborhood, then went down to the Seine, it was fun.

Friday we did more stuff and I don’t remember what it was haha. We went out again somewhere and ate stuff.

Saturday I moved in with my host family. I was so nervous beforehand. They live in the 16ème arrond, just 3 blocks away from the Trocadéro and an amazing view of the Eiffel Tower, which i also could care less about. The apartment is a bit small, but my room has two beds and i dumped all my junk on the other bed, i have a nice closet, big windows, and my own garden patio since we’re on the 4th floor. This is a rather new building, about 25 years old, so it ain’t pretty. But thats ok.

My host parents are Jacques and Jacqueline (cute) and they are in the early 70’s. They are rather rich. They are really nice and the mom actually went out to the local store to get gluten free food for me! Super nice! They’re both very friendly, we talk a lot during dinner. The mom is a great cook. We had chicken and corn, with a salad of beets, celery root, endive, and…somethig else and cheese. Amazing. Last night we had beef stew with plenty of potatoes (YAY!!!!!!!!)

This week i’ve been going to grammar revisions with the rest of our group, the lady is also old but extremely nice and very funny. She lives in the 15ème arrond and we go t her house for lessons. She gives us chocolates and crepes (sigh cant eat them tho) and all sorts of stuff.

I also saw a friend of mine from France, hung out for a bit. Very nice to see him finally!! Monday night we went to see a concert of Chopin, in this small theatre in some weird arrond that i can’t remember. It was kinda boring, but man the pianist was so full of himself i had a kick out of watching his face cuz he was being so serious and pompous. Jerk.

Throughout this whole time i’ve been to plenty of cafés, had much coffee and wine, eaten lots of food. I went to St. Germain Des Près, one of the oldest still-standing churches in Paris. It is still beautiful like i was 5 years ago when i was there last. Today we went on a bateau-mouche for a dumb tour of the Seine, but it was fun to be with ma friends and take a few pictures.

Unfortunately, my stupid laptop’s photo memory card port is not compatible with my camera’s memory card! so i need to find a special extension, but the electronic stores are so far away from my house and i haven’t really had time for myself yet.

AYA’s headquarter is Reid Hall, very close to the Art History building for Paris IV. The building is from the 1500’s and was used for centuries as a pottery-making place, then it became a few other things, then a house for some rich American lady who then donated it to Columbia University or something and now is AYA (part of it). The place reminds me of the houses in the French Quarter of New Orleans. Lots of grid-iron and a beautiful courtyard where we can have lunch and etc.

Tonight i meet with my CUA friend (who actually was not at all a friend the pas 2 and a half years I was at CUA, but we bonded and I realized she’s a really nice and very funny person) and her CUA friend at a café by her house. A friend from our program will hopefully also be showing up.

Overall, it’s pretty cool. I’m NOT excited about having to go to class at 9am next friday in the campus that’s on the edge of the city. It’s VERY far from my house. Ugh. But otherwise i only have about 1 class a day so that’s pretty sweet!

I hope to upload pictures soon, once i get a extension thing. I’m worn out, gonna nap before i hop back on the metro down to the 10th arrond. Such a busy life suddenly!

Ouf.

It all leads up to this.

OHHHHHHHHH MAAAAAH GAWWWD

ok. leaving in 2 hours. Where to start. So much to do. Finish packing, charge camera/laptop, eat lunch, get a shower. Ugh.

No time to talk, really. It’s just that I felt I should point out a few things.

I’m kinda worried, but that’s to be expected. I’m nervous about all the stuff I have to do. I’m not super excited about going to Paris still, so i don’t know what that’s about.

I think big things overwhlem me. I can’t handle thinking about all the stuff I will do. So i’m only thinking 24 hours ahead.

For example, today, i’m just going on a plane to London. There. I’m not worrying about anything else. Once i’m there, i’ll just think “today i go to Paris, and meet new people and stay at the hostel”.

OH and BY THE WAY this hostel!!! WTF! Totally NOT what i was expecting. I was thinking of like an army barrack with 12 bunk beds all together. Here’s what it actually is. Check the photos out here: http://www.cisp.fr/cisp/index.asp

UMMMM wtf. Am i in a rich-ass program or something? wth?! I think i’m getting more than i thought i was. Wow. meh.

Anywho, so i’m REALLLLLY sad to leave my new house, my family and friends. I don’t want to learn. I don’t want to have to worry about getting good grades for senior year. hkdl;fkdl;fgkl;dk this sucks.

For those of my friends who are curious as to what I wioll be doing the next few days, i’ll give a brief description:

• Get to Paris tomorrow morning (weather permitting, supposedly it’s kinda rainy/snowy there. boo hiss). Get some sort of transportation to my study abroad program’s HQ in Paris.
• Talk or do something I don’t know what.
• Leave the HQ to go to the hostel
• La Directrice of my program will blab with us at “orientation” for 2 hours.
• Dinner
• Sleep (?) lol
• Next day something else happens. I think we all go to the HQ again.
• I think there’s a welcome party too? sweeeet.
• Go on a bateau-mouche (LAME) ride on the Seine.
• Call host family, and get to their place on Saturday.

Monday we revise French and they have all sorts of stuff for us to do for fun before we start classes Feb 8th. aie aie aie. Much to do. I hope I make a friend

Worries. See? This is why i don’t think that far ahead. All i need to remember is that i’m going on a plane today, getting to london and paris tomorrow.

I won’t have internet access for a while, so who knows when I will write again. Hopefully as soon as possible. I can’t hlpe but have my stupid friends beliefs ringing through my ears “aah plane crashes aaaa aaaah” ugh. So let’s really hope that i write soon, so we know nothing bad happened lol.

Ok. I must go. Aurevoir, États-Unis!

Illogical logic.

Ok. So you know, some things just don’t mix well. When they are mixed, they make a horrible result.

Mentos and diet coke. Huge explosion. Gasoline and fire. Super explosion.

My mom and alcohol. Ridiculous.

I was having a good time this evening, spending time with my family since there’s now 3 DAYS left. yikes! We watched “Julie & Julia”, an awesome movie with Meryl Streep as Julia Child. And she did it superbly.

It finished pretty late. I was really tired, i kept yawning and making tired grunts (cuz i’m weird like that lol). My mom pretty much drank the entire bottle of wine that she had bought 3 hours earlier while watching the movie. And she likes to ramble about whatever during the movie. Slightly annoying but i’ve learned to tune it out. But don’t dare look like you’re trying really hard to hear the movie over what she’s saying. Some reason it pisses her off and she starts making this crazy assumptions like “no one likes me” “no one wants to hear what I have to say i’m worthless” and seriously, this has been going on for years now and i’m really at the end of my wick in regards to listening to her say nonsense like this. It’s like she wants us to all start crying and begging for forgiveness for not hearing her talk during the movie and we need to be pitying her or something. WTF is this all about?!???!?

After the movie, like I said, i had gotten really tired. My mom looked at me, and i was kinda slumped over the side of the couch looking pretty worn out. But she seems to have mistook my expression for being absolute disgust or depression or something. She looks incredulously at me and says: “what? Why are you so sad? What did I do wrong what do you want me to do huh??” and i’m like wtf are you serious where are you getting this from?!? and i say “nothing is wrong! i’m tired! i’m just sitting here like this because i’m tired…” and she goes on, saying “i don’t understand why no matter what i do you’re never happy” and i am really quite sick of her thinking this and i can’t help but raise my voice a bit and say “nothing is wrong! i enjoyed the movie i don’t know why you always think the moment i stop smiling that you did something wrong! you didn’t do anything wrong i’m just sitting here i’m tired!!” and she gets mad at me and looks at my dad and says “what did i do? it seems like she’s always unhappy with what we do here” and i just honestly do not believe what i am hearing. It’s like i’m in some Bizarro world where up is down and left is right.

What the hell is going on? How many times must i insist that everything is fine? It really is! I can’t fathom why she won’t believe me! We were all laughing, we were having fun. I’m sorry that i got tired, i can’t help it. It’s not like i said “this sucks” or “hey mom you ruin everything” which is so not true. all i did was look really exhausted!! AGH!

This drives me insane. It really does. I don’t think you realize how much it does. I am not a person who yells. Ever. But really, in these situations I just want to start screaming. It is so frustrating that this problem even exists. I mean seriously. If anyone in my family is not smiling with two thumbs up it’s like my mom assumes we all hate her and she ruined everything or something. Obviously she is having insecurities of which i don’t know how they came to be or what they mean. Either way it’s something that really shouldn’t exist because i love my mom to death and there is nothing wrong with what we are all doing by watching a movie.

I blame the alcohol. Um hello a whole bottle in an hour? This is normal. Sometimes 2 bottles. But not in an hour. But she can totally consume a bottle of wine all on her own. No problemo. And she gets all sensitive and bitchy about everything.

Once she was quite tipsy when i was doing my homework (in high school) and she kept telling me how it would be totally ok for me to have sex with my boyfriend-of-the-time (which at the time i was like EWWW cuz we had only dated for 2 months!!!!!) and i was sitting there in shock like are you seriously telling me this?? i’m just barely 17 years old. Ugh it was ridiculous. Naturally, when i tell her of this incident she insists i made it up. Why would i do that. Geez.

So she argued with my dad while i’m here writing about how she doesn’t understand why everything she does is wrong and i just don’t know why that conversation even exists in the first place. She usually calms down within an hour, zonks out, and wakes up late the next day as if nothing had happened. Ugh. I am so tired of this happening.

They say you should never study abroad/vacation/travel to get away from your problems, because they will follow you. This is true, but at least in 3 days my main problem will be thousands of miles away. It will take time to catch up but for a while i’ll be free. Thank goodness. Because tfamily problems are wearing me to the bone and i can feel myself aging so fast.

I’m only 20 for cryin out loud.

Departure Blues.

Blah.

So i only have 4 days left before I leave for Paris. Yikes.

It’s crazy, because this whole trip has been a work-in-progress since the Spring of 2009. And to think that in 4 days it will finally be true….wow.

And yet I’m not terrifically excited. I guess because it’s been hovering over my head for quite some time now, and I’m nervous about all the stuff I have to do (airport security, finding the gate, getting the right taxi at CDG airport, finding the right address in Paris, meeting the new family and the other students in my program etc.) and all of that is certainly NOT part of the “wonderful opportunity” and stuff. That’s just stress. It’s been so complicated, getting everything ready for my trip, that I kind of just want it all to be over.

That sucks to say, I know. No doubt it will be awesome to be in Paris yadda yadda…bla bla bla. I know. I guess it’s just….I dunno. Something isn’t quite right with me. Everyone else I know studying abroad is SOOOOOOOOOOOOOO excited, but some reason I’m not. And honestly, I can’t pinpoint what is causing this. I really don’t know why I’m not excited. By all means I wish I was all giddy and happy like everyone else who’s cheering me on about the trip. But…ugh I dunno. I just don’t want to think about it.

And that’s not a good thing. I really DO need to start thinking about it. Um hello i’m leaving in 4 days. But i don’t want to think about the trip. And so I haven’t started packing, I just go about my days like nothing is about to change. I don’t want to pack. I really don’t.

I guess I’m also slightly nervous because I have quite a “Debbie Downer” friend who seems to insist on reminding me about how planes have crashed lately and all that jazz. Gee, thanks. “Yeah remember the Airbus that exploded?! AAH!” “AAH don’t die on the way to Paris or on the way back!” nooooo don’t put these thoughts in my head!! Obviously there are hundreds and thousands of departures every day going to and from overseas and they all make  the voyage safely. But now my brain keeps saying “but your plane could be the one” or something. Psyching myself out. That’s so stupid.

So because of this part of me can’t help but freak out a little, that there is a chance (however small) that I might not see my friends and family again, not see my house, silver spring, get to live my life, all of that. What a ridiculously horrible thing to think about! I wish my friend didn’t say anything about that.

By all means, I am not a person who is afraid of flying. But, then again, this is my first time flying solo lol. So for some reason because it’s only me, I feel more responsible about my well-being and safety and some reason my brain is telling me there’s a higher risk of something bad happening. I guess cuz when I have my parents or friends with me while travelling, it seems like nothing could possibly go wrong because we’re all together and nothing ever goes wrong when we’re together. But being by myself on such a long trip, I’m the only one who can protect myself, and I don’t seem to have much confidence in my ability to do that hahaha!!!!!

So all of this in swishing around in my mind. But it’s not the only thing I’m thinking about. If it was, then I would obviously know why I’m not excited to leave. But no, I know that’s not the reason. But what is? I don’t know!

Maybe it’s because I don’t want to have all my classes in french again. Ugh. Horrible memories of 4ème. It’s not like i don’t understand french (duh). But i know i can’t express myself in french very well. And here I am taking 5 college courses with the regular student body at Paris-IV! Great. Just great.

If i cared enough I would have spent my whole break working on writing in french. But i didn’t. Because I seem to only live in the moment. And in the moment, I just like to relax, eat, watch tv, take a walk, be with friends. Not studying. lol

I’ve seen a lot of friends this week. I knew most of them would wait until the last-minute to see me. But not all fo them, so don’t get all grumpy when you read this and you say to yourself “hey! that’s not fair i had stuff to do last week” or bla bla bla, I know, i’m not talking about you

But there’s a bunch who have just purposefully waited until now to hang out. And it’s a bit rude. Because The closer it gets to my departure, the more i need to spend time getting ready. But instead i’m with these people. And now I am pressed for time, trying to juggle seeing friends, family, and packing, and “studying” French hehe.

My grandmother’s coming over on sunday. It’s going to be a bit awkward. She seems to hate still being alive. I’m not kidding. It’s weird. The older she gets, the grumpier she is that she’s still around. uhhhhhhh it’s kind of awkward for a grandkid to have their grandmother think this. So my grandmother wants to be on the safe-side and see me before I leave, “just in case” she’s not around when I come back. What a horrible thought. So the whole visit is going to be awkward if she’s in that mind-set. Honestly, I don’t want to think of it that way! Can’t we all just hang out like nothing will change? Those are the best memories.

When my Pépère died 2 years ago, the last time I saw him was 3 months earlier when I went to his 80th birthday party in New Orléans. We all knew he had cancer, but it was a party and it was fun. So when he passed away, I was happy to know that our last time together was having fun like nothing was wrong.

But my grandmother (who’s on my dad’s side, my pépère is on my mom’s side), is from a very melancholy german family. Sooooooo yeah it’s not really surprising that she’d be acting like this. She’ll be 90 in May. I’m really really sad that I won’t get to be at her birthday party. 

Ugh but seriously. I don’t want to see in her face on Sunday that she’s thinking of this as our last time together, it makes things so strange and sad. She might hide it, but I’ll still know that’s what she’s thinking. And that sucks.

On a lighter note lol, I’m supposed to see a movie with a friend tonight. (yay?) and tomorrow i might be with some friends again. My mom is taking off tuesday to be with me, and I’m glad. That baby Marguerite within me is really sad to leave my mom, so it will be nice to spend time with her. I’ve noticed already that my mom is trying really hard to hold back tears whenever we talk about me leaving next week. That really is the worst. To see you parents cry. But my dad never does so really it just hurts to see my mom cry lol.

Dang it!! Everyone better be happy when they say bye to me at the gate in Dulles. I don’t want to leave on  a sad note. After all, by “Debbie Downer” friend reminded me it could be my last time seeing them, and that’s a lame way to remember my family. But who knows. I might cry too. I honestly don’t know. I hope not.

AAAAH stop thinking about all of this!! This is why I don’t want to think about the trip. I just want to act like everything is normal. It’s tough when you’re all alone in the house all day like today though. What to do…i look around and I’m sad to leave. I love my new house and my new room (apparently so do all my friends lol). I would like my family to be here, I want to spend time with them. I dont’ know what to do today. I’ll pack a little because i really have to. But otherwise I just feel like being sad.

And that’s no way to spend a friday.

Dates with multiple Mr. Awkward’s…

So I went on a date recently and couldn’t help finding myself stuck in many situations that had AWKWARD written all over it. It seems to me that men have been taught that these things are basic protocol or something for dates (well, at least the young men that I have been with, who have not yet mastered the art of courting).

To be honest, I didn’t really want to go on a date. In fact, what i had “signed-up” for was just an outing with a friend. But he made it into somewhat of a date which just made everything weird. I didn’t want to look like a total bitch or a “party-pooper” but really, “bait-and-switch”-ing does not charm me, nor does it put me in a particularly good mood.

I feel like the men in my life find me to be an unapproachable wild animal that cannot be dealt with head on, so they are trying to lure me by making it sound like there isn’t any romantically-inclined desires within them, and that it is their only feasible way to catch me.

But of course, this is my bizarre imagination at work and it’s another sign of me going on another tangent.  Back to what I was saying.

————

So this is how it went down. He asked me if i was free, i said yes, he said we should hang out, i said yes. He suggested hanging out downtown, maybe get some lunch. I said it was a genial idea (different words though, remember this is the bizarre Marguerite imagination retelling the story ). We meet up.

The place he wanted to go for lunch was closed. I suggested a place. No no, he said. He knows of a great place down on so-and-so avenue, it’s his treat. Being nearly broke (despite the fact i need money to get my butt over in Paris in a few weeks) i said that was very kind of him (though i must admit i get extremely uncomfortable when guys “treat” me to things). But even then I was sensing something was awry. What a “lovely” coincidence, i thought, that the cheap-o place he wanted to go to was closed. And he was so quick to suggest the much fancier place. Hmm. So from then on i was a bit more on my toes about the whole get-together.

We had a fancy-ish lunch. We talked, and everything was normal so it was all good. Though he mentioned things about me that most of my guy friends don’t so i was a bit like ummm whaaaaa? about it. Such as “wow, the color of your shirt really brings out the green in your eyes, it’s actually kind of striking” and i kind of uncomfortably laughed and said “thanks”….but i was getting the “heebie-jeebies” haha (i love that word cluster).

Ok. Time out. I dont want to make it sound like I’m against all compliments, men, courting, flirting, and all of that. By all means I am all for that stuff when the time and person is right. But before you get on my case, remember that this is someone who i am just friends with, and he has not shown any romantic interest in me before that. And, what we had agreed on was a simple get together, not a fancy meal and what ensued, which i will get to….now!

We finished lunch. It was later in the afternoon so the sun was already sinking a bit. I didn’t know what to do, originally we said we’d just walk around, maybe go to a museum or something, which i was fine with because those choices were FREE. yay! Plus i love just chillin with friends, no pressure or anything, having an open-ended plan is fun

But no. This guy clearly had his own secret agenda, and his act of hiding it from me made me quite irritated. He wanted to see a movie. UGH movies are like a bajillion dollars. i dont have a lot of money and i just want to do very very cheap *cough*free* things with this guy that are publicly appropriate and androgynous. (not sure thats the right use of the word but you get my drift…hopefully O__O)

He said he could pay for me, and i kept trying to tell him it’d be better to do something else (not only because the situation was getting more awkward, but i dont like seeing movies with friends i havent seen in a long time or won’t get to see for a long time, because i’d rather spend that time talking with them instead of sitting in a dark room for 2 hours). 

I don’t like to make people upset. This “quality” that i possess is not a very good thing, since i have a hard time saying “no” easily (hence the 2 years of horrid abuse from one certain ex-bf since i couldnt get myself to end it. sheesh) So i gave in. We saw a stupid movie. While we were walking to the theatre and he was talking about his school work and/or the movie we were going to see, i was distracted by all the memories i have of seeing movies with past bf’s on dates and stuff. I couldn’t help but think he fancied himself as courting me so i was trying to brace myself for the worst.

———————

Have you ever dated a “Mr. Awkward”? Someone who seemed to be doing the cheesiest and most stereotypical stuff on a date that it just made you want to barf? I have seen my fair share. And the cheesiest and most annoying moments with the “Mr. Awkward”s was when we went to see a movie.

For example. A boy i dated in high school. It was our first date. I didn’t really know what to do because at the time i was not in love with him, i just thought he was nice. We went to see a very stupid movie meant for dumb college students. He insisted on sitting in the back row, all the way to one side where no one else was. And so it begins… is basically what i was thinking. Yes, at 16 (or 17 i can’t remember when this happened exactly) I was already very clever in how these courting rituals worked. I rolled my eyes (which, luckily, he did not see since the theatre was dark) as he held my hand while we went to sit there. The movie sucked. I was so bored. Halfway through the movie he put his hand over mine. Um, ok………10min later around my shoulder. Before i could react, he kissed my cheek in an awkward-teenager fashion that made me want to burst out laughing. Unfortunately the laughter i was suppressing into a smile was taken the wrong way by said boy, and he assumed it meant it was all ok. darn.

That memory fades out after that moment. I don’t remember what happened but i know it was awkward and made him stop. But i do remember seeing other movies with him and he clearly only had the intention to smooch the whole time. Honestly, why waste $18 to make out with me when we could do it for free somewhere else? Ugh.

Another boy. Another movie. This time I actually really liked him, and though I did want to kiss him i didn’t want to do it in the movie theatre cuz i think thats cheesy and lame. Plus, i have control over my emotions, which clearly teenage boys do not (though they try oh so hard to make you think the opposite ha!) But this “Mr. Awkward” is only awkward because i didn’t realize at the time that he was not watching the movie. No, he was watching me. Sketch I actually loved the movie, so i was not really paying any attention to him. After all, my first love is films. My soft drink was in the cup holder that was between us. I leaned over to it to get a sip of my drink. But this poor fellow who had been watching me must have assumed I was leaning in for a kiss. So instead of getting a drink i got a very awkward kiss. I pulled back and we looked at each other for what seemed like an hour of hell. I was just surprised and couldn’t find anything to say, and he looked at me in horror. He apologized, and if pride and confidence were a real concrete object, his was clearly shattered in a million pieces and the way he tried to apologize made it sound like he was having the worst time trying to pick up all the pieces. I felt really bad and i really did want to give him all the comfort in the world because i could see how mortified he was, but the person behind us began yelling at us to shut up. And both of us were very shy people so i just settled back into my seat and tried to watch the movie. I didn’t reach over for my drink until the movie was over.

—————————

This newfound “Mr. Awkward” and I got to the theatre. Luckily, he did not make any moves. When we left i was so happy and relieved just like as if i was done with a huge audition of art presentation.

It was dark out by now, and we walked over to the metro. I had thought I had survived the awkward moments. But there was a few more coming my way.

We get to the metro. We had to get on to separate trains because he lived in the opposite direction from where I live. My train was about to leave when we got there, but he stopped me real quick and said “wait one quick hug”.

 Ha. Quick my ass.

 He took his damn well time with that hug. I missed my train. What kind of fool does he take me for? I’m standing there hugging and i tried to pull back and i said:

 ”um my train is about to leave”

and he said “what?”…

by the time i repeated it, the train doors closed. He smiled very innocently. I squinted at him, trying to see if i could get him to fess up and say “ok ok YES i hugged you long enough so you could stay with me a bit longer and YES i had wanted to take you to the fancy place all along AND see a movie with you”. Alas, that was too much to hope for.

 In fact, while i spending my time thinking out what he SHOULD be telling me i realized we were still hugging and his hands were reaching a lower level of my person to which i highly disapproved of them being. We stopped hugging since he seemed to take the hint. I couldn’t stand pretending like I had no idea what happened all day and asked him “so uh, i noticed you were acting kind of different today” and he said “oh really? in what way?” and i said “umm WELL you know that hug just now was uh…kind of…different” and he said “oh i thought you french people were used to that kind of stuff HAW-HAW”.

Get your dumb ass outta here. Seriously? no. French remarks/jokes don’t work with me. oh hah-hah yes, you really are the first person in the entire world to ever have said something stupid to me like that because of my frenchness. Psh. Honestly, do guys think that’s a cool thing to say?? Are they thinking “i’m gonna say something about her heritage, YES i’m gonna score WOOOO”???!?!?!? Are you serious?! I’m sorry but decent women do not enjoy these things being said to them. What do you think i’m going to do? Swoon? What am I supposed to say? “OMG wow you’re SO right you REALLY know french people! wow you impress me with your sense of humor! please father my children!”. no!

As if i haven’t heard it all:

“What? Oh but i thought you’d like french kissing, that’s what your people do all the time”

 ”of course i expect you to wear lingerie, YOU’RE FRENCH”

” But french women are supposed to be kinky”

 ”french women are only good for ______ __________”

fools. all fools. You might as well hang yourself with a celibate rope (get the reference?) cuz no matter what heritage you put in to replace “french” it’s not gonna go over with the ladies. I didn’t think you’d have to have someone tell you this. It should be as obvious as a cinder block to the crotch (another reference).

—————-

Men. By all means i’m up for a new boy interest, but guys, PLEASE. don’t trick me into going on a date with you. I’m not stupid. How uncouth. Call me old fashioned but i expect a damn fine gentlemen attitude from a guy that expects to go on a date with me. And no, i don’t mean that i’m so high and mighty that i deserve it. ALL WOMEN deserve it. If it was up to me, no woman would settle for anyone less than a gentleman.

But, maybe that’s why i’ve been single for a whole year xD

blame the  interesting choice of  words and pseudo-eloquent diction on the fact i’m reading a book from the 19th century.

French, and Zombies.

What’s that you say? My title is perplexing? Well, allow me to elaborate.

1) French. I have told myself that I would be studying french throughout the winter break before I leave. And yet here I am today, in my pj’s, writing this (and in english!) But, fear not, I do have a small amount of incentive in my brain so I will be getting to my French work today finally. C’est absolument necessaire d’être au courant en français!

Anyway, back to frenchness. There is this god-awful-but-hilarious french education show from 1987 called “French in Action” that was on HUT for a while (Howard University Channel) and I had gotten into it so much in high school that i started taping them, and I’ve watched them just to get used to hearing french again.

 It is soooo funny! The first half of the show is like a real tv show: you follow 2 main characters Mireille and Robert (who are college students…and strangely enough Mireille is an Art History student at the Sorbonne…talk about ominous!! ha!) and each episode they do different things around Paris and France. Then the last half of the show is this very intelligent and humorous guy Pierre Capretz who goes over what you just saw and they talk about vocabulary, conjugation, grammar etc. That part is boring.  But the story’s are awesome. It’s so fun to see the 80’s Paris, and it’s a cheaply done show since, I believe, it was created by some professors from Harvard and a school in France (Piere Capretz was apart of the whole thing) as a learning experiment, so it’s not like a huge-ass production. I think they’re about 59 episodes, and we learn about Mireille’s family, and Robert (who is supposedly an American from Yale who has come to study in Paris), and he has a crush on her (of course). Very amusing.

So I like watching that instead of brushing up on grammar and whatnot cuz books are boring but today i’ll be doing that too anyway.

3) Zombies. Yes, Zombies. I have finally purchased “Pride and Prejudice and Zombies” by Seth Graham-Smith (and Jane Austen), and have read it every night. It is an amazing book. I have never read the original P&P, since i always thought i would yawn my brains out. But this version is right up Marguerite’s street. What could be better than an early 19th century tale of English aristocracy surrounded by “unmentionables” and everyone is slowly getting their brains eaten? And Elizabeth Bennet is, in my opinion, much improved by being an expert at the katana and the Deadly Arts.

I only know of her because of a french magazine i used to subscribe to, “Muze” (all about literature, culture, film, fashion…etc.) had a quiz once: “What heroine are you?” and I was very excited since I was hoping to be someone cool like from Colette’s “Vagabond” or something. But no. I finished the quiz and got the response:

“Tu es Elizabeth Bennet!”

um, ok. I didn’t really know who that was. I turn the page and there, plastered all over the page is almost all the women who have played Elizabeth Bennet over the years in film and tv: Jennifer Ehle (from the “OMG WHEN IS THIS STUPID THING OVER” UK series of the story. gag me.), Keira Knightley (bof…), Greer Garson (Laurence Olivier was Mr. Darcy…blegh it’s prefect ) among many others. I was most upset at the response but read the description of the character. Mhh…well, ok i guess. But it would have been cooler to be someone else, i don’t like to compared to soap-opera english people fro 1813.  

I still did not want to read the original book. I had seen glimpses of the BBC tv-series of it and was always annoyed that it never seemed to go away for the longest time. I must have been between 6-8 years old when it was on a lot, and I had no time for such silliness as I was too busy with more important things, like making forts outside with my friends to keep away the boys during recess. Yes, yes that was a much better use of my time.

And if someone asked me today, at 20-years old: “Would you like to read Pride and Prejudice, or see the movie? Or would you rather make a fort outside with your friends to keep the boys away?” Iwould fervently choose the latter

Back to the point. Even with zombies this book can get kinda boring, because after all, it IS still the original story. I could not care less that Elizabeth likes a Mr. Wickham over Mr. Darcy and that Mr. Collins wanted to marry her but she thought he was fat and stupid. Graham-Smith, however, provides the most vivid and striking descriptions of the zombies, such as the dead man with the “blood crusted suit, missing a part of his skull which has almost turned to dust” or the very-much-dead woman who’s “hair was pulled back so tightly the brittle skin of her face was being pulled off” and, the worst was the zombie-baby who had the most terrifying shrieks and the description of it was enough to make me not want to copy it here.

Yeah. Most books don’t get to me. But damn. Graham-Smith writes those parts so well that it kinda freaks me out. I had finished reading at a point where Elizabeth’s aunt had told her not to fall in love since it distracts her from her warrior-like duties and the zombie woman and the baby were coming past Elizabeth and her sisters (not to mention the Helford family, all 12 of them had become zombies and were slowly approaching the sisters…damn the way Elizabeth “killed” them was quite graphic!!). I closed the book, turned out the light and was lying in bed with my eyes wide open.

 I don’t know about you, but when I read a book i might as well have gone into a portal that took me to the actual place, because when i’m done reading, i look around the room and it takes me a bit to remember where I am and what i’m doing again. So i was there in bed, it was 3am, and I hadn’t exactly gotten used to my room again. I looked up at the ceiling and around the room, just expecting the shrieks and moans of zombies coming as they burst through the windows. I was clutching on to my blanket quite tightly.

That quiz lies. If i really was like Elizabeth, i wouldn’t be afraid. I eventually turned the light back on and watched some Family Guy to erase all the images of crusty blood, flesh, limbs, beheadings and dismemberment which seemed to stick with me.

………..can’t wait to do it all over again tonight! wOOt! xD

CUA’s Exodus to Europe…

Did i really only write just yesterday? Huh.

It seems like almost everyone from CUA is running off to Europe this semester. No joke. So many are going to Italy, Spain, Belgium, France, Germany, England…not like no one is going other places though. But still…it’s such a huge amount. I think there’s about 150+ students studying abroad this semester? Can’t remember.

But it’s crazy to see my facebook homepage, and almost everyone’s status is about them leaving, about to leave or have just left to Europe. It’s like we’re all getting called for duty of something

It’s so weird. To be “shipping out” so to speak in just over 2 weeks. You only get 4 years at the college you chose, and i’m not going to be there for the total 4. Not like i’m sad about that, mind you. To be honest i’ve been itching to get away from CUA. Don’t get me wrong, I really like CUA’s theatre and art dept (well…the staff are nice and the kids are nice…the buildings eehhhhhhh not good but everything else is cool), but i never really could fit in with the overall population. I didn’t fit in the Art Dept. because i wanted to be an actress. I didn’t fit in the Drama Dept. because I was an Art History major and wasn’t 24/7 around the Drama kids. I didn’t fit in the overall population because I was a commuter and never went to any of the activities sponsored by the school, and I seem to have different opinions than the majority of the school.

It seems to be 90% of the girls at CUA are all the same. They look the same, act the same, do the same etc. They all have ponytails or hair colour ranging from light brown to ridiculously blonde. Then the fake black hair that looks horrid. They love their UGgs, North Face jackets, sweatpants, skinny headbands, pearl necklaces, bows, flip flops…that’s all well and good but multiply that by 1,000 people it’s a bit much.

The friends i had were much more varied in their clothing style and personas. Which i love. Originality is the way to go, says I. The people I’m friends with i really respect and admire for their intelligence and uniqueness. And what do you know? Most of them are, yes, commuters and/or from the Drama or Art dept! Surprise surprise. Well, also from other ones too hehe.

I absolutely hated the attention i brought upon myself by dressing so differently from the majority of the girls in my classes. My biology class for example: full of North face, UGgs, sweatpants, blackberries, and starbucks. Oh and loud, non-stop-chatting preppy girls wearing and holding such things. Mostly blonde, dirty blonde, strawberry blonde, light brown hair, and bragging about their stupid new contacts that make their eyes super blue and talking about how wasted they were last night. Averaging 5′4″ and about 120lbs.

Marguerite comes to class: Black leather boots, jeans, H&M striped shirt with a scarf. Esprit wool coat. 5′7″ (but 5′9″ with the boots) and about 135lbs. Very dark brown hair, green eyes. Not holding anything except for my ghetto phone and bag. The girls do not want to talk to me, and give me mostly condescending looks when I say “excuse me” so i could get to my seat in the row (it’s an auditorium).

There was about 4 or 5 girls that looked normal out of that enormous class. And yes, 2 of them were from the Art Dept. though i never knew them personally. The guys looked normal too. It was just unfortunate happenstance that my class was mostly the same type of drones that one sees all over campus.

I never had a friend in that class. Each semester, there is always ONE class where i have no one to talk to. And it is not like I do not try to make friends. I do not talk to them in any different way than I would with my friends, but they still do not seem to want to talk. So i gave up. Whatever……

Things like this, but on a larger scale, is what I think of when I think of CUA in general. So going to Paris is a big hope for me, to find an environment to which I am more accustomed to.

I guess I’ve always appeared more “French” in the eyes of American students, which I never understood. They wouldn’t say anything until i say “my family is french” then all of a sudden their face lights up and they say “ohhhh no wonder! You look so french. You dress very french”. But had I not said that, they would continue to look at me strangely. I resent that!

Who care is my family is french? It’s not like i’m dressing fancy at all! Oh, but of course, I’m french so that explains my “fancy” outfit. As if NOT wearing sweatpants and a tank top to school automatically makes you fancy. I can see how perhaps my winter coat might lead one to believe that I am dressed for a more lavish occasion, but underneath i’m just wearing a plain-ass shirt and jeans.

Is America really unaware of fashion? Come now, really? I would wear my regular outfit and people at school would say “oh, do you have a job interview today?” or “ooh are you going somewhere special after class?” um, no i’m wearing decent clothing you fool.

When I see a girl wearing her UGgs with sweatpants and a sweatshirt and the whole shebang, i can’t help but shiver when I think of her wearing the same thing while in Europe. What nonsense! You would look like a deranged hobo or like you just walked out of your house in your pajamas.

It shocked me when I first came to American school in high school and saw people ACTUALLY wearing their pj’s and such. In french school you would be reprimanded and sent home to change. My parents can remember a time when school’s did that here in the U.S…i guess we have become more relaxed in etiquette? Not cool.

What do they wear in Paris? What a coincidence! Jeans and a decent shirt. Well, i already fit in with the french society halfway just by wearing that.

I already know what’s going to happen when I get to Paris. “OOOH it’s an American girl wowww” and it will be nigh-impossible to be seen as a regular french woman. I never fit in. Anywhere. In America, i’m seen as the French girl. In France, I’m the American girl. Blah.

There was a time when it truly upset me that could not fit in. But now i don’t care as much, so when people come up to me saying such nonsense i let it through one ear and out the other. Ok, fine. I’ll be the French girl. Fine, I’m the American girl. Whatever gets you through the night. You can think what you want, but I’m just Marguerite.

And that’s that.

PDA online = FAUX-PAS

Ok. So seriously. I’m sitting at my computer, checkin my e-mail and then go on dreaded facebook.

On my news-feed i’m getting boring updates from all 399 of my friends…and i realize that at least 4 out of the 7 displayed on the page’s profile pictures all display them smoochin their lover/bf/gf/mistress/gigolo whatever.

It’s kinda funny. Cuz the picture was taken by one of them while they’re kissing, and you can see their arm in the pciture as they hold out the camera.

Honestly, I’ve never understood this practice. I’mean, really? Why do you think your friends would like to see this?

“Hmm, i think i’ll check so-and-so’s page. Boy, it’d be great if they had a picture of themselves kissing their gf/bf”

Or even “Hey, i need a picture of me and my bf/gf kissing…..ok, now that i have it, what should i do? OOOOH i’ll make it my profile picture, i’m sure everyone would love that”.

It’s just like, eww. Great. Thank you for letting me know what you look like when you kiss you’re gf’bf. It has been a noncessant desire of mine to know just how to picture what it looks like to kiss your gf/bf. And thank you for making it your profile picture, so when we chat all i see if you two locking lips. Really, I could ask for nothing more.

WTF!!

And some go so far as to have a few pictures (OR A WHOLE ALBUM) of them kissing. Omg, seriously wtf. If you want one, fine. But why make it public? What are your friends supposed to do?? Are we expected to comment?? “Ohhh nice one, i totally love the way the light hits your face here” or “wow that looks like an awesome kiss” UM HELLOO eww wth.

Not only that, but i find it weird to take a picture of yourself kissing your significant other in the first place like that. Sure it could be sweet i guessssssssssssss………..eh.

One of my ex’s always wanted to take pics like that. He rarely wanted to take a pic of us just smiling together or whatever. In fact, he’d act like he was going to smile and then at the last minute kiss me. So the photo ends up looking awkward because he’s kissing me and it caught the exact moment when my brain is like “oh geez not again” and my expression looks bewildered.

Blah. And if we DID have a picture of us kissing, i was like “ok, um…so what are we supposed to do with it?” and he’d just say “oh, nothing…….”

the next day he has it plastered all over his facebook and his guy friends would be like “oh man she’s hot lucky you” or “wooaah nice”………………seriously!?

AAGH! So soon enough this photo becomes his way of telling the world that he could get a girl. It was like he was saying “chyeah. Check it out i totally bagged a hot one” or something. Please stop me before I puke. ugh. It’s like it was a trophy for all to stare in awe.

And i wasn’t about to have my face and myself in the middle of the action of kissing to become a public display for all to gaze upon for however long they feel like. Hell to the no!

We fought about it and eventually he took it off.

So when I see people with numerous photos of themselves smoochin their significant other all over the place, i cringe.

I guess you want people to know you’re in love? But it seems like there’s a better way to show it. This just seems a bit conceited or something, like saying “check out how awesome we look when we kiss” or something.

Do you want us to clap? Applaud your skills? Are we supposed to be turned on? envious? impressed? what?

Especially when the person with said profile is a close friend of the same gender. It’s like, “ugh dude seriously i don’t need to see this, i don’t need to see your love being expressed physically” blegh.

Maybe i’m too conservative in that respect. But i certainly don’t want to spend my time taking pictures of myself kissing my bf. That’s just…eh.

Just imagine if you had an O.C.D bf/gf. You take a picture, you look at it and he/she’s like “nah this one didn’t turn out good let’s try again” or “you don’t look passionate enough” or something. What the heck!

Hell if we were going to take that much time to smooch i’d rather be doing it for other reasons and without any cameras around thank you very much. Why not spend our energy on something, oh i don’t know, more fun?

Anywho. Just thought i’d rant.

————————————-

Have you ever had that feeling where it sort of sounds like someone is right outside your house talking really loud, but you can’t tell if it’s the tv or something else? Ok ok, i admit, it’s not a feeling. A situation. whatever.  Besides the point. I keep hearing shouting, and weird stuff and it’s muffled like it was coming from outside. My brother and mother are watching tv downstairs, but i can hear that clearly. Hmm. I look outside and there’s no one. Ghosts? HA! THey must be gangsta ghosts cuz i can hear them shoutin disses. hmm.

That’s why it concerns me that no one is in plain sight when I look outside.

My family is too busy watching tv. I’m leaving in 2 weeks, i was hoping today would be the day that we could all hang out in the evening before I leave. But my dad HAD to watch his british sit-coms, my brother doesn’t want to do anything I suggested, and my mom drank too much (as usual…..) and refuses to let me have a say in what to do. So she’s watching tv with my bro, my dad’s in his room with the super small tv, and i’m one again lonely and discouraged in the computer room.

Really. My life is amazing. 20 years old on a Saturday night in my computer room.

2.3 weeks till Paris. Then my life will resume.

Blah.

New Year, new semester, new location…

Wow.

So in a few weeks i will be thousands of miles away, and 6 hours ahead of D.C. In Paris.

Everyone’s been like “oooooooohhhhhhh myyy gossshhhhh you are SO lucky you’re going to have SO much fun that is great oh my gossshhhhh wow i can’t believe it that’s so exciting wow you’ll be so happy oh my gossshhh” and it’s a bit much. For me, at least. No doubt i’m excited to go. But i dunno, it’s not like a big deal to me. I guess when you’ve had 5 months to mull it over it loses its exciting feeling?

I’ve already been to Paris. But only during the summer when I was 15, and it was just vacation stuff. I was SO excited. It was my first time in another continent, and after spending 3/4 (well actually at the time it was more like 3.5/4’s) of my life in French school, I was ready to see what France was all about. Plus after having my family shove every aspect of our french heritage into my brain practically since I prematurely left the womb, I wanted to see what the fuss was all about too.

It was awesome, hands down. We had a great apartment, a surprisingly comfortable-sized one in the 18ème arrond. and i loved our neighborhood. I kind of decided then and there that I would come back and make it my permanent home. Since the 18ème is on the outer parts of Paris, it fit in perfectly with my Silver Spring neighborhood in  my head. By this I mean that Silver Spring is literally right outside D.C’s border, our neighborhood is much more calm than the centre of D.C but we still have a city feeling to it. The 18ème is also more calm than inner Paris (even though unlike SS it’s still in the city), but…i dunno, i guess what  I’m saying is that they both have the same feeling to me: not too busy, not too quiet, close enough to the important stuff….

18ème is close to the suburbs though. And in France the suburbs are where the dumb hooligan teens are, setting fire to things and being all violent and what not. Strange since American suburbs are GENERALLY seen as being safer than cities, though really it depends on where you live. Silver Spring is not an official city; we’re not incorporated. So we’re a suburb of D.C. But we definitely are NOT a super safe suburb. My old hood was full of MS-13, my new one is too, and now i’m by the GD (Gangster Disciples) and more. Fun stuff.

Anywho, trying to catch myself before I go off on a tangent (too late lol). The point is that the 18ème is comfortable to me, and I felt like it was my own neighborhood since I found many similarities to Silver Spring (though 18ème is MUCH MUCH prettier, although I love my SS very much).

Soooooooooo yeah. Been to France before. So I know what to expect. Maybe that’s why I’m not going crazy like everyone else is? Well, I’m also not looking forward to studying my butt off. 3 art history courses. Kill me. And they’re 2 hours each, with 3 hours of TD (Traveaux dirigées, or study period stuff) a week. FOR EACH. So i will mostly be in the art history building of Paris IV while in Paris. fun fun.

I’m nervous about having classes in French. I haven’t had my classes in French (besides french class duh) since 8th grade, my last year at Rochambeau. And even then I sucked. Man i really did. Since my parents don’t speak French well and cannot help me whatsoever in my homework and stuff, I never got to “pratique” (i never know the word for it in english..i guess it’s just the word practice) my french at home like everyone else. And i hated doing homework, so I never even tried to practice hehe. So i’d go to school, and i couldn’t really understand the new grammar and stuff we were doing. Plus I was unhappy at school anyway, so i didn’t study or want to learn. Overall bad experience.

So having the idea that I’ll be spending half of my undergrad junior year in a French university where ALL my classes are in french makes me nervous. I’ve been reading my french magazines, books, comics, watching french tv shows and films, listening to french music. Tuh. The thing is, i understand French perfectly. The problem is that I can’t express myself in french very well. I have a limited vocabulary, it sounds childish for a 20-year old (well obviously, since the last time i learned french was in 8th grade, in high school and college we revised french that i learned in like 3rd-5th grade, so i didn’t progress AT ALL).

What I hate is that everyone seems to be oblivious of this. I tell my mom about how i’m concerned about how i don’t know french and she scoffs and says “of course you do, you’re fluent” but she never seems to REALLY be listening to me. She wants so badly that i continue the frenchness of her family, since my brother obviously failed at learning any french.

I’m the one that was sent to French school. I’m the one that was given all the french books, movies, etc. I’m the one that my mom is counting on to continuing being french for our family, who has already gone American. Her whole family is in Louisiana, but hardly anyone really lives with an ounce of frenchness. My mom has always been the one that wants to keep it going, while her cousins and etc have all gone American 100%.

I know she didn’t mean to, but damn she put a lot of pressure on me. She always wants me to marry a “good French catholic boy”. Anytime i mention a french guy i’m friends with she has to know if he’s cute and is always like “ohh what a nice name, that’s a pretty last name it would go well with you” and it makes me super uncomfortable.

Ugh. That’s probably another reason why i’m not super-happy about going to France. My mom is jealous, but at the same time she’s happy to see her child do what she wanted to do and what she always hoped I would do. It took me a while to realize my mom molded me into what she wanted me to be. She forced all the French stuff on me after it became quite clear my brother wasn’t going to be the french kid she always wanted. I resent being created like that. I don’t like that what i identify with is what my mom planned me to be. It’s like I had no choice, i’m just this thing that she used.

So for the last 5 years or so, i had to figure out what I wanted to do; am I French? What do I want to do?

I’ve come to the conclusion that yes, i do in fact identify with the French culture way more than the American culture. But it’s not because of my heritage. My mom only speaks a little French, and no matter how much she wants to believe that she was the one that made me French, it really was the French school that made me French. I spent 8-10 hours a day, 5 days a week speaking French, learning about French history, government, culture, being with Francophone children and teachers, participating in French activities at school for 11 years. I spent more time at school than at home for the longest time. What I learned about the world I learned through a French point of view.

That isn’t to say I learned nothing from my family. Obviously I did too. My mom did remind me of our frenchness (A LOT) and told me of our past, and sort of told me how the french do things. But I truly believe that I know more about France from school than from her, and I am tired of her telling me “no, I did it too” and accepting that from her, because she really didn’t.

The fact that biologically i’m 50% french just adds to what I identify with.

Having all of this swimming around my head while I wait for the day I  get on British Airways and head for Paris is bogging my excitement down.

I’ve decided for myself that since I do prefer the French culture over American culture, I would like to some day move to France to continue my life. But it is not because of my mom or anything else. She can go on thinking she got me into all of this but i can’t let her control what happens to me and how I turn out. This is my own choice. And it is independent of my heritage. Sure, it’s all very well that I’m going back to the country my family came from, oh joy. What a nice coincidence, is all i think of it. But that’s it. No more, no less.

Until then, I’ve been sitting around the house, studying french so i don’t look like an idiot when I get there. And i’ve been exercising, since i gained a lot of weight in 2009 (it’s a good thing though lol, I was like 105lbs at 5′7″ so now i’m at a much healthier weight) so i need to “sculpt” my newfound fat and such so that it doesn’t look like a big blob on my tummy haha.

Such is the life of Marguerite. It’s crazy how much drama people have in their lives, isn’t it? It may look like nothing to another, but for the person itself it’s chaos. Strange.