Nights Out Pt. 3: Receding Hair Lines & A Happy Accident

Nights Out, the finale! The last edition to this adorable little trilogy--though it won't be the most exciting; I really don't think any night or any guys are going to top brass knuckles or stalker Vincent. But alas--the finale!

So Courtney and I meet to get a drink--where we're meeting is still TBD. Nobody else wants to meet, so it's just us, and nothing--NOTHING--is going on at the Wohoo, so we decide to walk around to find a bar with something going on. Sextius is absolutely packed, so we walk around to the Cours Mirabeau and pass this cafe that we normally pass during the day; low key, never anything going on, too expensive for our college budgets to ever try. WELL, tonight?? Said expensive cafe is HOPPIN.

There is a decorated little fence gate out in front of it to keep people from just walzting up to the outside seating, with fern trees or something interspersed between the tables, and around the windows/openings to the indoor part of the restaurant. And tonight? There is a red-roped entrance with a big bouncer in some type of Italian suit (I may be in France but my knowledge on fashion is going nowhere) watching the line. Some guy, with a thick french accent, is yelling into the screaming crowd (of mostly or all shrill female trills of excitement), "Are there any ladies in the house tonight?!" ....Me and Courtney bust out laughing. Umm, excuse me sir, nobody your age should be saying that, let alone anyone any age. Awesome.

We looked at a sign/poster by the bouncer and apparently this guy is some semi-famous French singer. Well, semi-famous French singer guy gets some girls on the stage, clad in not-so-classy pink boas, and, after asking how the "ladies" are doing a few more times, proceeds to sing the most awkward broadway version of "New York, New York" I have, I am quite confident in saying, ever heard--however, that also means it was also the most comical.


(Pink boas, semi-choreographed moves, and alcohol always make for a good night--obviously)

But what was even BETTER (believe it or not it gets better than a frenchman yelling about ladies in the house and breakin it down to New York, New York), were the over the hill's swaying back and forth, arms over each other's shoulders, somehow skillfully avoiding spilling their glasses of wine, and singing along via their thick accents--all at the same time. That only added to our hysterics--to be multiplied when they noticed us laughing and proceeded to mosey over to us, still singing, still arm in arm, still not spilling. We walked away--but I was faaaasteeerrr! One of them got Courtney by the hand and started twirling her around. Of course, me, being the superb friend that I am...pulled out my camera.


(That's right ladies and gentleman--he posed)

Then the second guy, after leaning away from the picture so that I could get Courtney and Recedinghairline (he's a superb friend as well), came towards me. Bearing in mind that we have just had our experiences with Marco, Benjy, and now Vincent--three guesses what I did? Pulled the hell away. Still laughing, yes, but he started introducing himself and his friend, where they were from--and where are you all from? Still laughing, "California." Your names? "....No." Still laughing, I snapped one more picture--which they BOTH LEANED IN FOR, said, "Facebook picture!" And then we walked away, cracking up with people watching us as we went. The night had gone from a fail, to freaking beautiful.


("Facebook picture!!!)

So we walk down to O'Shannon's to see what's going on down there. Well we aren't really a fan of O'Shannon's as of late, so we try a new bar. Don't remember the name of it, but it's indoors and looks like it has potential. First stop is the bathroom upstairs--always the first stop b/c you have to pay for public restrooms in Europe--where there were only boys in line...interesting. Courtney mentions this. We didn't really have to pee so we decide not to wait in line and go downstairs to the bar. I discreetly remark to Courtney that we have just entered a sausage fest. Pretty sure it's a gay bar. She doesn't really agree just yet...YET. We order drinks, take a seat, and by now--after having plenty of men pass us in fitted (more fitted than the usual European style) shirts and pants, nice shoes, and perfect hair, gently pressing a hand to one another's waist or arm, I look at Courtney. She looks at me. She says, "I think this is a gay bar." I say, "No shit."

So yes, we accidentally stumbled into a gay bar, with the DJ blasting "Time of Your Life" from Dirty Dancing--turning down the music here and there in the chorus to hear the crowd on the dancefloor shout the lyrics. DEAR LORD it was hilarious. It was an accident, but if you note the title of this entry, a "Happy Accident." Given experiences of late in bars, it was so nice to be able to sit at a table with our drinks, and just be, no being approached, no being eyed, yes being able to people watch, was soooo nice. It was like a breath of fresh air. A really really really funny breath of fresh air :) Happy accidents, man--a favorite past-time.


(Not a great picture, but the interior of the club; really cool layout and decor)

Okay, left to update: last weekend's adventures to Marseille and Cassis, maybe patronage weekend, and I really wanna talk about Gilad Shalit's video...go read about it on Haaretz.com if you haven't heard yet!

Nights Out Pt. 2: Brass Knuckles and Stalkers

Don't get me wrong by the title--when we go out, we have fun. We have a lot of fun. We're still laughing about things that happened weeks ago. However, still laughing about them does not detract from how absurd the events of our nights out have been, nor the reverberations resulting from said nights out. In fact, I don't think anything could. We haven't gotten (most of us, at least) neurotically drunk--I mean, you can't really/shouldn't really when you have to walk back to your house, with a family living in it--living, and ready to judge at will. So let's get a good buzz, and see where the night takes us. Ca va? Ca va.


(In Aix...Part of a three part series, note the contrast the stark white cat makes--really cool in person. Thought it fit the subject of late nights)

Yeah...well...Courtney and I go out one night by ourselves, a Tuesday or something. We had already had something to drink, I think our usual big Desperados, and then went to O'Shannons b/c nothing was happening at Wohoo (rainy night...it rained for about a week). So we're at a table in O'Shannons with a drink (Leffe, another really good beer. Some bartenders put cherry syrup in it b/c it has a slight cherry flavor base, and it is really good--natty lite can go fuck itself). Courtney gets up to go to the bathroom...and when I turn around a minute later there is Marco. A very drunk Marco. I'm nice, whatever, Euro guys have ALOT more chutzpah than Amer guys so I'm used to them approaching me and friends by now--whatever. Plus I'm at a bar, so what the hell did I expect? His English isn't so great, but that's okay cause meeting guys in bars is a good opportunity to practice my French; Courtney walks back and a few minutes later he goes to get his friend, Benjy, who is fluent in English. So we're talking to these guys, Benjy apologizing for Marco b/c he's drunk, Marco and Benjy doing the French kiss on the cheek thing and then saying me and Courtney should kiss(umm, no.), then they gave us some of their Giraffe (a HUGE thing of beer)...They asked us how old we were, and apparently we're young b/c they were 24 or 26 or something. Cool--thanks guys.

Flag number one, I told Benjy I knew a rabbi in the States with that name, that it was a Jewish name. He said, "Jewish?!" I said, yeah, at which point he motioned shooting himself in the head, got pissed, and walked away, denying that he had anything to do with anything Jewish. Alright asshole, peace out. But Marco stayed, and Benjy came back a minute later, and we told them we were going to leave. We had a flyer for free entry into this club--plus the bar was closing soon. They asked if they could accompany us b/c they get in free with girls. Alright, they'd been nice, they'd bought us a drink, sure, we'll get you all in. And aside from the Jewish comment, they were funny--though I wasn't forgetting it. As we walk out, drunk Marco asks for Courtney's number, and poor Courtney gives it to him; Marco called it then and their so she couldn't fake it.

So we're walking to the new club, Marco drunk, sloppily hitting on Courtney after I denied him a "french style kiss since I was in France now." At one point in the walk, Courtney and I were walking with Benjy when he says, "Look--I'm a good boy, I can protect you girls!" Homeboy was wearing brass knuckles. EXCUSE ME. Courtney and I both look at him and say, "BENJY! What the hell?!" He just smiles, innocently as anything, like nothing was wrong. We gently explained that that was not showing protection and to put them away. Flag two.

After that, we made a pitstop at the 24-hour bakery (that's right; Jessie, I like your blog entry about the hidden bakery, but mine wins!) where the boys demanded they let us pay. After politely refusing, we let them pay...at which point they discovered they didn't have enough money on them. Flag three, k thanks! Courtney threw up some money b/c we were holding up the line, and we peaced with our cheap but scrumptious midnight snack. We got to the main street and with Marco attempting to now "French style kiss" Courtney, Benjy decides he has to stop to pee. We said we would wait...and by wait we meant peace the fuck out.

We walked away so fast, laughing the entire way down the main road and off to a side street to public bathrooms b/c we were about to pee our pants from laughing so hard. Courtney got 13 calls from Marco that night, and then 2 or 3 two days later in class--under the name "DO NOT ANSWER."


("RUN AWAY!" grate of a smoothie shop in Aix)

The next encounter with stalkers happened that same night when we got to the club we had free entry to. Well...there is a reason we had free entry. The club is normally busy, I'm sure, but rainy nights keep people in for some reason and no one was there. It's underground like most bars and clubs, and I told Courtney it resembled a Bar Mitzvah--a dancefloor designated by pillars, lights, and a visible DJ, with chairs and tables off to the side. Classy, but when empty a Bar Mitzvah. Awesome. We sat at the tables and just breathed. Then a guy came up and asked me to dance (pass, no one was on the floor), and we talked instead. That went nowhere, obviously, but Courtney started talking to some guy who asked to talk outside where we could hear. So although I got nowhere with who I was talking to, it was the first time I got the response, "I'll be at the bar if you want to find me." Instead of, "I'll be tailing you the rest of the night!"

So we go outside and are talking to Courtney's new friend, Vincent, and his friend. He's our age, really good at English, and either way I get to practice my French. Plus his friend who doesn't know English, semi-attractive, so a win-win. I have a project in Provencal History about the slang Aixoise (people living in Aix) use, so I got some new material--also good. We ended up staying out until about 4am between everything, and at the end of the night when we realized this, Vincent and friends (about 6 other guys and girls came out of the club later that he was with) offered to walk us home, but we definitely passed on that. Nice and all, but we didn't know him. Turns out that was a good decision!

We gave him our names so that he could facebook us (no numbers, Courtney learned haha), and he friended us the next day. Courtney accepted, I waited to see what happened...He messaged Courtney a couple of times and changed his status to "Just want to be with someone, calling Courtney..." in the course of a couple of days. Then he messaged me...First saying: "Hey, you didn't add me, I'm so sad lol how are you?" To which I didn't respond. He proceeded to email Courtney at her actual e-mail address when she didn't respond to his fbook messages, to which she deleted him from her friend list b/c his messages were coming off as more and more desperate and stalkerish. Three days after that first message to me, he messaged me again; this time asking why I hadn't friended him, if Courtney had unfriended him, why didn't she think he was special? And to let him know if I wanted to keep in contact. I ignored his message and ignored his friend request somewhere in there.


(Apparently, "I don't want to be friends" doesn't translate tres bien...)

He friended me again. Wrote me another message two days later, and it is now that I will put the exchange of messages up b/c homeboy is psycho and this is when I am at my finest and true comedy may be appreciated:

VINCENT TO ME:
hello i don't really understand why you deleted me on fb... and courtney too.
I thought we could keep contact but visibly not. it's not really nice to act like that you know I only tried to be friendly with you and I m sure you won't never find guys as friendly as I could try to be with you.

just let me know you only tried to took advantage of me . My friend from charlotte told me be careful with american girls they can sometimes be strange......lol I understand better now......

bye bye
looking forward to hearing from you

I FINALLY REPLIED:
ok, here's the deal.

I didn't check facebook for a few days and when I did? Two facebook messages from you, with Courtney passing on to me that you had messaged her a couple of times, put her in her your status with something about "Want to be around someone, calling Courtney...", and then e-mailing her at her actual e-mail address. My life, does not revolve around facebook, so if it takes me a couple of days to check it and see that you've sent something, that is just the way it is. Secondly, even if I had checked my facebook, and even though Courtney had checked hers and seen a message from you, we JUST met you--you, Vincent, a stranger from France who we met at a club in the middle of the night. I am not about to jump at every opportunity to talk to you when I met you for not even an hour in a foreign country in the middle of the night--and that is absolutely not me being a strange American girl, but me being a safe girl, no matter what part of the world I may be from.

How do you think it looks when I sign in to my account and have two messages from a guy I just met at a club? When my friend tells me that she's been getting messages from you? Then, that you've included her in your status? Then you've e-mailed her at her actual e-mail address--meaning you've cared enough to look through her information and taken the time to send her an e-mail; I don't care if it took two minutes to do, that's two minutes you just spent on a girl you do not know, and two minutes you just spent successfully freaking out and scaring us away. It hasn't been a week, and I have three messages from you. I worry when a boyfriend sends me that many e-mails in a week.

So as politely as I can phrase it at this point, you're damn straight Courtney unfriended you, and you're damn straight I denied your request. You seemed like a really nice guy last weekend with some fun friends, but have successfully proved us wrong in the time since.

I hope you could translate all of this well enough, and good luck with your studies.

The Strange American Girl

He e-mailed back. Why. Why why why. He e-mailed back saying he appreciated me explaining to him and completely understood. And then he asked to be friends. Then he friended me again. Needless to say I haven't responded. I'm waiting to see if I get another message, but I hope not--homeboy has some issuuuuuees! He doesn't live in Aix so I doubt we'll run into him, I just can't believe how quickly he latched on to the opportunity of having a friend. He said he was just lonely in his response to my e-mail...yeah, I don't care though, sooo....

Courtney told me between creepers that she has a habit of attracting the older guys and the weirder guys...I told her we couldn't be friends anymore. Anyway, one more story in the next entry, but I think that's enough computer screen reading for now!


(A creepy piece of graffiti for a creepy slew of guys; we think this is the grate of a candy shop, but it is NOT a favorite. So weird)

Nights Out Pt 1: Intro & Sergy the 30 y/o

"Iii'm tiiiired, and my knee hurts!"
"Which knee?"
"...My ELBOW hurts, and I have to go to the BATHROOM!"
"I asked you about that FIVE minutes ago!"
"Well I didn't have to go then! I don't wanna walk anymore, can we stop?"
"Russel! If you don't hurry up, the tigers will eat you!"
"There's no tigers in South America; zoology!"

(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CP1vjGT8tJw)

Pretty much explains how I've been feeling the past couple of days. I've tried to ignore it, keep myself preoccupied with other things, or play it off, but nope! I don't feel great. Alot of people in our program have been getting colds or sick, and my group of friends happens to be one of them. We've all had sore throats since we got here, compliments to the unbelievable amount of second-hand smoke we've been inhaling, but now everyone is coughing, sniffling, and losing their voices. I'm fine, I'm fine, relax ma famille, I'm just sluggish at that moment. So today, Wednesday, when I don't have class until 6:30pm, I stayed in last night and relaxed, figured out stuff with school and talked with friends back in sd or studying elsewhere, and then slept in late today. Had some hot sweet tea (oh so good), and have been chilling here instead of the usual going to school and doing a little homework here and a little exploring with friends there. But already I'm over this; I'm TIRED.

But anyway, I have a little catching up to do.


(One of my top favorites; found this one night exploring the city, above a store. "Pour une ville plus coloree et plus joviale" The woman silhouette on the right is so beautiful and so cool)

So nights out and about...As I said, I don't have class until nighttime on Wednesday, and Tuesdays just so happen to be buy one get one with this nifty little discount card one can purchase (one DID purchase), so needless to say Tuesdays have become the going out night. For Courtney and I at least. HOWEVER cervezas here, if I spelled that correctly, are fucking expensive--tres cherche. 5 euro for the cheapest beers--which are good, but still cheapest and still expensive. So one day Courtney and I are walking around the little Tabac (equivalent to a 7-11) and we see a 3-pack (wtf, who thought up 3-packs right?) of Desperados (personal favorite). For Cheapy McCheaperson. We look further down the shelf and see a HUGE Desperado, the equivalent of about 2 beers in one, for 3 euro and some change. So what we decided to do was get 3 of those, each drink 1 and split the second, each drinking three beers, and then go to the bar. this means we each spend about 5 euro on 3 beer--instead of 5 euro on ONE. That isn't enough to keep us for the night, remembering this is just beer, but it is a fantastic starting point. Especially when other people decide to go out on Tuesday nights as well. We have since changed to each buying 2 of said large Desperados, picture below, because 1.5 honestly wasn't enough. Om nom nom. Some buy wine, I am quite content with my Desperados :)


(Desperados = tequilla + beer = happy Jeanie! If you didn't know, tequilla is my drink of choice....)

Aside from Tuesday nights, Saturday nights are generally the other good nights to go out. Friday nights I feel like NOBODY goes out. If it rains? NOBODY goes out. It can be kind of nice though, if you're in the mood for a chill night but a night out with friends, it's really nice to go to a bar with limited people. I learned really quickly that I miss places like Aromas, La Paloma, or even Copley--anywhere that I could sit just expect to run into people, or anywhere outside a classroom I could see people. My host family doesn't mind if I invite people over so long as they know, but if the kids are asleep we have to be quiet (understandably). This, however, means that post 10pm we have nowhere to hang out except somewhere we have to pay money. Ummm....yeah....not really feelin that one. I miss the lounges at school. Especially when you consider that nights out around here? Don't really get started until 1am. That's right--at school we're used to going out around 10pm, but here they're finishing meals around 10. So they go out to bars after dinner, bar hop for a few hours, then go to a club, and go to bed around 4 or 5am--4am being early. We were out one night until 4 unintentionally, damn near sober, and one of the guys we were talking to asked us where we going after that club. We were like...ummm, to bed. He couldn't believe it. I'll give you that I'm an insomniac here and there--but not by choice you crazy French man, GO TO BED. (turns out he was a crazy frenchman, but I'll get to that)

So the basics about nights out; we generally go to Wohoo, it's a bar just down the street from school where all the international students in Aix go--and by the way, that I am classified as an "international student"??? SO WEIRD. Anyway, they have drink specials about every night, but the only one really worth going to is buy one get one. They had one "American Night" where 1 euro = 1 dollar and they accepted dollars, so that was cool. They also have 1 euro sangeria nights, but apparently their sangeria can make your throat sore from all the sugar in it; so pass. Bar upstairs, bar downstairs with a dancefloor that is sometimes utilized. Overall it's fun, but if you want to branch out, visit other bars. Which brings me to O'Shannons and La Cesars and a slew of others. Same prices at each, with "happy hours" at times long before the French eat dinner, so we'd never make them. Everyone gathers outside the bars to talk and it is a slight pain in the ass to fight through the crowds--esp as a girl--to get to the bar or just through the crowd in general.


(Hours for a charcuterie / butcher shop...rude)

So the first night of "ew you're gross, go away:" enter Sergy. Courtney and I went out to O'Shannon's (Wohoo was dead...rainy night if I remember correctly) and generally how it works is classy-as-ever European men will call, "mademoiselle! mademoiselle!" at which point you keep walking and pretend you no speak francais. It generally works. Well...Courtney turned around hahaha Sergy unfortunately spoke English as well, despite being Russian, and so did his French friend, Bastien--who happens to go to the school next to us. But he wasn't bad, so that one is ok. Well, Sergy has no hair. Whether he shaves his head or is actually, legitimately bald--is still up for debate, but homeboy had one SHINY dome. So we would let conversation die after 10 seconds and try and be as awkward as possible...at which point he would ask another question. He could not take a freaking hint, he kept talking about himself. Where are we from, what are we doing in Aix, how old are we, what are our names--DEAR LORD MAN, go away. Finally he asked if we were going to get a drink, so we took the opportunity to say, "Uh-huh, inside!"

Sergy had said he was 23 or something, but once inside, Courtney and I both turned to each other and said--23??? A student??? No. Try 30--maybe. Ew, ew, ew, ew, ew!

Alright I think that's enough reading for one post, your eyes need a break according to opthamologists around the world. The next one though, Nights Out Pt. 2? Stalkers, Receding hair lines, and a Gay Club--OH MY!

Just putting this out there...

So...I just booked tickets to London. I mean, they're for December, but...I just booked tickets to London.

?!

That is all.

Nice & Cassis

The first weekend we had here, Sept 12 and 13, we had our first excursion with IAU (school). A good thing because that way we weren't all twiddling our thumbs waiting for something to do, but kind of a negative thing because we all wanted to see Aix on a weekend--the weekday nightlife had already proved fun. But visiting France the first weekend in? Not about to protest.

We all met outside l'Office de Tourisme (Toursim Office...) at 9am Saturday morning to travel to Nice on our obnoxiously tourist buses--however, our also large and air conditioned tourist buses. The plan in past years was to have said trip as an overnight, spending that Saturday night in Nice, and then traveling to Cassis in the morning; however, with the H1N1 epidemic anything involving the words "overnight" and "group of students" is absolutely prohibited (despite the administration at IAU's laughter). So we met at 9am to drive for 2 hours to Nice (on the Mediterranean Sea riiiight by Italy, ~15 miles according to the giant map of France on my desk), and left by 5pm, stopping just outside Aix for dinner.

We were split up among 2 buses; eight of us at that point had grouped together, five from USD, two from Univ of Denver, and one from Towson Univ around Baltimore (hey, Brandon), so we all got on a bus together and took up the back row plus some. A pretty subdued ride up but our semi-tour guide/prof from IAU pointed out random sites LIKE the mountain pass that Cezanne is famous for--he painted it something like 70 times. Funny story (at least when the guy told it), Cezanne was known to paint exruciatingly slow so he said he liked this mountain pass (Mount Saint Victoire, very famous) so much because it didn't move...hahaha It was freaking HUGE, went on for forever. Below is a picture of it from the bus. He also pointed out Cannes as we passed it, where the Cannes film festival is held every year.


Get it Cezanne


Sooo pretty...I'll be riding through it on horseback in October :)

So we drove into Nice and, excuse me, but we passed a hotel where scenes from the ORIGINAL JAMES BOND were shot. EXCUSE ME. The prof guy said that and I almost jumped out of my seat to see it--James Bond movies are a necessity of life; those, Clint Eastwood westerns, and the original Star Wars, feel free to add to that list (criticism possible). We had the option once we got off the bus to go with the prof/tour guide on a tour around the city, or we could go off on our own. We only had about four hours or less, so between wanting to eat and spend some time on the beach, we opted to explore on our own. Now that I've travelled to Nice, Cassis, and Marseille, I can say that the French at least have some kind of obssession with merry-go-rounds. We were walking to lunch and--BAM!--a merry go round in the most random of places. The beach across one street, and the Palais du Justice across the other...umm, okay? But pretty.



Lunch...I brought mine, but I can't resist putting this picture up. For a crazy reasonable price everyone got huge portions with a drink and a cafe (espresso) after. Those who ordered the shrimp option learned an important lesson in French cuisine culture: you order shrimp, you get shrimp:


I don't think you understand the reactions we had when Kim recieved this dish and our waiter walked away

We were also treated like Americans for the first time at a restaurant. Meaning, we were seated long before a table next to us with the same amount of people, but were definitely served after, not payed as much attention to, and received our espressos and the check much later--had to ask the waiter actually which we haven't had to do yet. He knew it, too because he would catch us looking at him and run away rapidement. Mhmm...we know what you're up to monsieur--"Americans" not "stupid"

We went to the beach RIGHT after the beach--and can you say gorgeous? I've been to the Mediterranean before when I went to Israel four years ago, but there is nothing like it. Crystal clear water, perfectly blue skies...and the landscape around Nice is breathtaking, with gorgeous green hills and cliffs rolling one on top of the other into the horizon. The beach goes on for days, but not a beach like we are used to in the states. The beach in Nice is that of rocks. Not little baby pebbles either, no, more like mini boulders, aye. It was like a balancing act getting from our towels to the water, comical though it was to watch. Also comical was Courtney and my's new best friend (though he didn't know it) Sergio--a young man, quite bronzed, maybe our age or a little older, in a pair of itsy bitsy teeny weeny short shorts. Hahahaha, I know it's the Euro thing to do, but it's just not something you get used to so easily.



Also comical, along with our near eating shit experiences of walking on the beach and our besty Sergio, was Courtney's brilliant (truly though) idea of bringing a bottle of wine with us, with a corkscrew, to enjoy on the beach. Sun, sand(ish), and wine--sounds amazing! One problem...we couldn't get the effing bottle open. We passed it down the line, each of us trying to open it, and no go. We successfully poked a hole in the cork! But no bueno haha One of us would hold the bottle while the other attempted to pulle the corkscrew with cork attached out, and the person trying to pull out the cork would end up lifting the other person up with the bottle. How the hell...this is why I stick to twist off caps.

After the beach we looked around, grabbing some gelato here and a postcard there (I've decided to collect; the cheapest, one, and two, should make a cool collage when I get back). Lunch had ended up taking about an hour and a half (the French take loooooooong lunches), so it was time to go back to the bus soon after gelato. Waiting for our tour bus, we saw this fountain waaay up on a hill that has to have the BEST view of Nice (picture below). We'd already decided to come back and explore one weekend because there hadn't been enough time that day, but after seeing this, we decided that was our next adventure...there's an elevator haha



Back on the bus, we stopped just outside of Aix for dinner at a place which I am quite confident in awarding "The Most Random Decorations" superlative. Dear Lord. They had leighs and sea shell necklaces on one wall, random dolls on another...interesting. Then back on the bus and sleeping at our houses...


Sunday we met again outside the tourism office and left 9am, but for Cassis this time, about a 30 minute drive. Cassis = beautiful. Right on the Mediterranean as well, and known for it's "calanques" or cliffs. The bus took us up to the top of a mountain first to an amazing view--but one problem...fatty bus couldn't make it to the top without stalling out hahaha It was fine, but a little freaky--we were in the back again, so a perfect view of the path back down the windy path of the mountain. The way up was breathtaking tho...



The beach at Cassis...I liked this beach more than Nice, but I like the city of Nice more than Cassis. The beach in Cassis didn't have sand either, but it had little pebbles--so a happy medium. And the water? CRYSTAL clear and so nice. However, we spent a loooong time on the beach. We all bought to go sandwiches this time so we would have more time to explore, but we split up--half going on a ferry ride and half going to the beach. I didn't feel like spending the money for the ferry ride, so I opted for the beach and stayed out a little longer than planned. Face got a little burnt, but not surprise there. We walked around town for a little bit, but therein lies my issue with Cassis--it's a tiny little town. The bus dropped us off just outside it b/c it couldn't fit in the streets. It was pretty, beautiful for sure...just petite. And the shops were mostly clothing places, with some hidden boutiques here and there.

However, some girls went hiking and found an area of cliffs that people jump off of--so we decided that one weekend we're going back to do that. I believe that will be this weekend :) Hiking and mini cliff jumping? Yes, please! Knee depending...kind of. "Remember that one time we jumped off those cliffs in Cassis, France into the Mediterranean? Yeah...me, too." We bought these bus passes this past weekend that for students are 5 euro for the card, and then you load it up as needed--one euro for each trip; the bus goes to cities around France. So my cliff jumping adventure is pretty much taken care of, lunch TBD.

Random cool thing we found when we entered Cassis was a guy who had a little kiosk type deal selling actual sponges from the sea. You could by them, to use as like a cleaning sponge. That was cool to see. Then it was back on the bus and back to our host families for dinner...It started to rain on the way back and has pretty much been raining since then haha Good thing I like the rain, right?


Aforementioned sponges...


Love this picture of the port in Cassis

Next posts: nights out on town, and European Heritage Weekend

History, History, and French!

(All around Europe there is a ton of graffiti that is absolutely amazing. I think the culture surrounding graffiti is so complex, interesting, and beautiful, so I decided the first week I was here to start cataloguing the graffiti I found. For entries like this when there aren't really pictures specific to the entry, I'm going to put up the graffiti pictures, in the order I took them, with locations--this one from Aix)

SO after my EU class and Psych class, I also have two history classes and a French grammar (aka joke) class. My history courses are taught by the same professor: Guillaume. I don't know his last name, mainly because he and his first name are so stereotypically French, that I just haven't bothered to learn it.

He's a younger guy, somewhat fashionable; walked into class the first day with a v-neck black t-shirt and dark jeans, black vans type of shoes with the laces tied so that they are tucked inside the tongue. He wears a silver thumb ring and nice silver watch that's a little big (masculin, not gaudy). Bright blue eyes, short litght brown hair, and a goatee type deal that I don't really understand, but he rocks it. FREAKING HILARIOUS, and unintentionally so. I had his European History course first, in the Main Hall, a room that is as high as the inside of a mini-cathedral, with a butress in the middle...it's not as cool as it sounds, but its height is enough to make the acoustics of the room a little difficult for most teachers--most. Not Guillaume. He speaks loudly, and quickly, with big hand and facial expressions. We knew he was going to be a character when he sat on the front table indian style to read the class list.

Best part about him: if he doesn't know how to pronounce a word, he'll exaggerate his mis-pronounciation of it, even if it's really not that bad. "Law" is my and Courtney's personal favorite. Try to imagine instead of the word "law" a word like "lowuh." Hi-larious. We've been discussing the French Revolution so that word has, unfortunately for Guillaume but fortunately for us, come up about fifteen times a class. He also has the attention span of a five year-old, so when we need more time to write down information from the slides, he has a tendency to groan, roll his eyes, and slump his shoulders over--nearly pouting hahaha. European History is from 6:30-8:00pm--kill me. But with this guy, class flies by. Before class he normally chats it up with Sammy (best custodian ever) outside the building, smoking a cigarette and complaining about something that makes him kick the ground, and after class he's usually outside the building smoking a cigarette as well--waiting for all of us to leave so he can lock the building since our class ends after IAU is closed.


(when the grates of stores come down after closing, alot of them are covered in graffiti. This shop has been closed since we've been here--Aix)

The next morning when I was sitting in my classroom for Provencal History (a set up on the third floor in a small room, at an oval table--knights of the round [oval] table status), and he walked in and out I just sat there thinking....seriously?? So I have this guy for two classes, which translates to three days a week--twice on Mondays.

Provencal History is freaking TIGHT to say the absolute least. It is in French, first of all, but yes, I knew that, I wanted another French course, but one that wouldn't be grammar based. He explained on the first day that he wasn't a French teacher, so he doesn't care about perfect grammar or anything on tests (yet another reason to adore Guillaume). He speaks medium speed and holds back on the Provencal accent, but is figuring out that we can really understand him okay when he speaks faster and even with the accent so I think he might start to speed up. BUT the reason the class is so tight? Allow me to list the excursions we will be taking: the Cours Mirabeau (that bottom picture of my last entry and main street in town) when he will take us to mansions and explain the history of town, Arles, Marseille, an archaeological sight, and somewhere else in town. ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! And did I mention all of that is FREE?! GRATUIT people! Yes, Guillaume, you may take me around France and show me all of the sites there are to see--merci!


(Across from the one above--Aix)

If only I could say my French class was as exciting. If I had ever had the pleasure of meeting a lab mouse having crack-cocaine tested on it, I would probably being able to confidently associate said lab mouse? With Madame. La femme is teeeeeeny, like, her pants are about to fall off her. Her face is aged I'm assuming from years of smoking (since that is everyone's favorite past time here), tanned and hanging from her face; I'm sorry to say she puts the Klein family circles to shame. A short boy haircut that I would call a pixie cut, but I'd rather call her a pixie because she bounces around the room almost as quickly as she bounces from idea to idea. Dear Lord, I don't know what the hell I am supposed to learn from this class, nor how the hell it transfers to an upper-division French course back at USD when all we discuss (if you can call it discussing) in class is what we ate for breakfast; how many pairs of jeans we own; if we have a dog or cat. It is ridiculous. My favorite activity? A fill in the blank activity in which you simply (extremly simply) picked a number....I'm not kidding--although the class thought she was when she told us to, "pick a number" and we were silent. "Cinq?" "Oui! Cinq! Conintuez..." Seriously? What the hell is that teaching us?! I learned the numbers the first week of 6th grade, I'm pretty sure this is a little prehistoric to review.

I spoke to her the class before this about my uncertainties over which French class I should be in because this one seemed a smidge easy (this was before the "pick a number" activity), and all she did was look at her sheet and say, "Oui, you are in the right class." I explained it seemed too easy, and she showed me the syllabus about what we would be going over...After the mid-term things seem to pick up so I decided to stay; that plus the fact that I have friends in the class a level up, and they say it's the same deal. Both classes, mine and the next level up, count for the same course back at USD, so whatever. First class of the morning 2 days a week--the only class on Fridays. On weekends when I want to travel, if there is a flight a decent amount cheaper that Thursday night as opposed to the following Friday afternoon after class, guess who isn't going to mind missing class? It isn't like I'd be missing anything...

Thus concludes my courses here at IAU; a little spread out over the entries, sorry about that, but I'm a busy girl!

New Idea...

Okay, so if you haven't noticed yet, I have a habit of skipping a few days (permissible) and then having to update on eeeverything I've done in those days, thus creating history's longest blog post--each and every time. So here's the new idea, because I'm pretty sure whoever reads this doesn't care about every little detail:

When I do such a thing, I'm going to put in like 3 posts for one day--each post covering a different adventure. So for this update of adventures I have yet to describe and henceforth blow your minds with, I'll have a post on the last bit of school, on Nice and Cassis (last weekend), my nights out, adventures around town this week (ALOT) and somewhere in there how the family has been.

For those avoiding studying, think of it as I'm providing you with 10 min study breaks with each post, to be utilized at your discretion. Thus concludes my new idea. So before you email me, asking for details about this day or that day, or tell me that I haven't mentioned anything about this or that on my blog--make sure you scroll down to see all the recent posts because remember: I could be posting 4 new ones at one sitting.

ENJOY!