le depart

I have a lot of little funny things to discuss. I didn’t do anything major. Actually I just lied. Yesterday, Madame et moi, we went to Montmarte. I literally spent the whole day with her. HAHAHAH it was ridiculous. First of all, she is tiny like a pocket pal. It takes her twice as long to get anywhere, because her legs are so short. Secondly, she never stops talking. She seems to be the expert on most things, and she loves to tell me really long complicated stories. She doesn’t even tell stories as much as just giving me a lecture on various topics. It’s endearing and good for practicing French, but it’s also fatiguing. My brain felt like it was on fire. Girlfriend has a digital camera but decided to buy a disposable one. Insane. We walked all around the hill, and then we stopped to get lunch in a little place. It was really sunny and nice outside, so we sat outside. I had to pee, naturally, so I went inside to use la toilette. First of all, French restaurants are tiny and packed. I’m already a giant in normal sized places, but I look like fucking Andre the Giant squeezing through a mouse hole getting around these places. It doesn’t help that I lack any sort of grace in movement. I’m like a drunk bull in a china shop all the time. Well there was a line for the bathroom composed of only women. Just my luck. I don’t know what the fuck women do in the bathroom, but it takes them a million fucking years to do their business. Literally. I don’t comprehend. You take your pants off. You sit down. You let fly. You clean up. You put pants on. You wash your hands while simultaneously doing a face check. YOU LEAVE. That should take no more than one minute. Two minutes tops. These two women ahead of me took combined almost twenty minutes. WTF. WTF ARE YOU DOING IN THERE. I know they didn’t take a dump for obvious reasons. Did you fall in? Do you have to remove your chastity belt before you pee? I just don’t get it. So I’m waiting in this tiny cramped space for these women to finish up, and to make it better, the waiter breaks a glass. He’s maneuvering all around trying to clean up while I navigate the hallway avoiding him. It was a disaster. Plus there was a little shit of a kid running around touching himself and then everything else. If you ever needed a reason to NOT eat out…Moving on. So there are lots of pretty people here. It’s depressing. Also, they’re well dressed. BITCHES. The worst part is that they’re so blasé about it all. They’re like oh why yes I’m hot and fabulous but look at me wearing this scarf so nonchalantly around my neck with my perfectly messy hair. Fuck. You. The only thing that makes me feel better is that they’re all so fucking small. I’ll be like oh look at this wonderfully gangly glasses wearing French boy with cuffed pants, and then I realize that he is probably no more than 5’5”. HA! GOTCHA! I started to laugh, because then I remembered the surgeon man (for those of you who know the story) was a midget. I was loling on the metro. He probably only came up to my shoulder. Granted, I have a big head. The old people are fabulous too. They are so amazing. They drive around in vintage mini coopers wearing fabulous duds with brooches and scarves. There was one on the metro back from Montmarte who gave me a little speech about how much she hates technology. She was essentially bitching out the teenage girl sitting right next to her who had headphones in. The many withering stares only underlined her hatred. It was hilarious. Fashion tip: all the boys are wearing blue shoes… do with that as you will. Don’t worry. I’m pretty sure Papa Hoge already has two pairs. Madame and I sat down for some coffee, and it was the time of day where parents were picking up their kids from school. I then got creeped on in the worst way. This guy walked by and did that creepy oh yes I like you smile with the up and down with the eyes. Mind you I was wearing what is basically a waxed tent, and I had some awesome frizz going on in the weave-did. In other words, I looked good. Then I see his DAUGHTER walking behind him. In the words of Momma Kim, Wat da hell!!!??!?!? It’s one thing to make eyes at me being gross, but it’s a totally different thing to do it while you’re toting your 6 year old around behind you. Go. Away. Forever. After our coffee, we boarded the bus to get back to Chinatown. I got so lucky. There was the most fabulous/dramatic fairy queen I’ve EVER seen. He was a)pretty b)sassy c)dramatic. His blonde hair and perfect skin were set off by the fact that he was giving the WORST bitch face to EVERYTHING. At one point he was glaring at something, bared his perfectly white teefies in a snarl and he took his finger and scraped around. Then he gave the best, most disparaging eye roll I’ve ever seen. It was straight out of Bring it On or some shit like that. I was dying…internally of course. I didn’t want the wrath of Peter Pan to come raining down on my tent, waxed or not. It’s impossible to describe just how much of a caricature he was. Today I did my shopping. The parentals had placed orders to me for various luxury goods. I was going around Rue St. Honoré with bags of nice things looking like a hobo. By American standards I probably looked fine, but Parisians (especially in that area of the quartier) are a little bit fancy pants. The old fabulous people were probably wondering who this street rat was stealing shit. I had to meet Madame for a movie on Rue Mouffetard, so I really only had time to pick up everything then get to the theater. I took a break to eat a quick lunch in a small park not far by. There was a guy with his dog. Super exciting I know, but just wait. The dog was running around everywhere pissing and shitting like dogs tend to do. However, the guy then told his dog to get on the edge of the fountain, and then he pushed it in! It was so sad. I think he was trying to rinse the shit and piss off of its fur, but it was cold outside. The dog was so deprimée. I understand the concept of having a clean pet, but it’s a fucking dog. They will always have crap all over them. Unless of course you’re rocking some frou frou rat dog who never touches the ground. At the movie theater we saw a film called “Intouchables”. I’m not going to tell you the story, because you can look it up online. However, Madame had sat down at the end of a row, and I left my bags with her to go to the wiz palace. When I came back, the row was full. Unlike normal human beings who would get up so that I could sit down, the sassy bitches of old people sitting down just looked at me like I was crazy. They just sat there. Then they told me to go around and squeeze by the wall to sit down. There was less than a foot of space to get by. I also have a fat ass. I looked so fucking dumb. Bitches…So I fell asleep last night after packing, because I was tired and drunk. I leave today. So sad. Madame hinted that she would like me to stay, and believe me I would prefer that to returning to whatever fresh hell awaits in Thrilliamsburg. Alas, I think my parents would shit themselves if I jumped ship. I must come back to the stink of the RER, and I must board the damn plane.  First, I have to convince myself to get my bum off the pull out couch and get in the showshow. Ok. VAS-Y!!!!!!!!!!!!

p.s. I read somewhere that donkey meat is called poopy. HAHAHAHAHAHHAAHHA

the usual

I decided not to post yesterday, because I didn’t really do anything. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but I can’t get the fuck out of bed in the morning. I’M IN MOTHALICKING PARIS, but I still don’t leave the house until around noon. I spent all of yesterday at the Louvre. I’ve been there enough that you would think I remembered the layout. That place is a fucking maze. I was lost in the painters of the Netherlands section for an hour. A FUCKING HOUR. I COULDN’T GET OUT. By the time I got out I had to take a break, because I had been walking in circles for so long. By the way…when going to a museum make sure you wear quiet slip-proof shoes. For the quiet part, I was tromping around in my boots like Tyra Banks/a peasant making so much noise. The Louvre is surprisingly quiet in the galleries, which I became painfully aware of as the bitchy guards stared at me. They really are sons of bitches. The meanest people ever. I didn’t want to take pictures of a million things I already have pictures of, so I took pictures of ridiculous things. Look for an album soon. Highlights include sassy dead people and the fattest man ever. So many gems. The highlight of my day was seeing a female version of Kim Jong Il. I kid you not this woman was the scariest/best dressed person I’ve ever seen. I almost died laughing in the Italian painters hall. I loved her. After the Louvre I realized that I was mothalicking starving so I made the trek to get falafel in the Marais. I just couldn’t hold out anymore. Too bad it was pouring when I got out of the metro. Still got my falafel. I did, however, eat it in a doorway looking like a hobo gypsy woman with my scarf around my head. All the trendy gays and their fashion hags looked at me like I was trash. And maybe I was, but that falafel was worth being trashy. Speaking of trashy, I just ate an entire thing of tabouli and I’m cracking open the Pringles. CHEERS KATE! (what makes them taste better here? I have those granola chocolate cookies for later in my luxury pull out couch). Today was very much the same. It was beautiful outside, so I walked through the Latin Quarter all the way to the Tuileries. It’s a really easy walk, and I love doing it. I sat outside reading my book. I hope to finish it in time to have lengthy discussion with Ray about it. It was sunny, but it was still cold as balls. When I stood up I thought my ankles were going to snap in half. AGH ALMOST FORGOT. Before I got there I stopped and got a sandwich from my favorite lady. She’s the cutest woman ever, but I don’t think she remembers me. Triste. She has the best baguette sandwiches with sun-dried tomatoes, mozzarella, AND feta. GET OUTTA HERE! Plus you get a drink and any dessert all for only five euro. That is insane. So I ate that while I read my book. I looked so native. Except Parisians somehow still manage to look somewhat classy as they eat baguettes. I just look like I’m deep-throating it.  Anyways, I went to Musée D’Orsay afterwards and walked around. They finished the renovations, so the whole thing was open. I forgot how huge it is. It is also here that I learned to not have slippery shoes. The marble floor was almost the death of me, and my boots have no traction. I did that awkward slip yelp thing about a million times. Humiliation. That just made me realize what a sketch ball I look like to people. I’m just this creepy gargantuan person walking around in a trench coat looking crazy. I keep having memory flashback when I’m walking, and then I realize that I’m smiling/laughing to myself. WEIRD. Anyways, I told Madame last night that I’d like to see Alix and go to dinner with her. It’s now evolved into a day on the town with her. I think we’re going to Montmarte for some lunch, then we will pick up Alix from school. She also wanted to go to a play. Love Madame, but it’s a little bit out of control. She did discuss the inability of French people to dance today. She suggested drinking something to loosen up. Such a wise woman. I was so tired after the museum, so I sat for a long time staring at my Paris Pratique deciding the fastest way to get home with the least amount of walking. I was starving, so I stopped at Monoprix to get a snack on the way home. The lines there were so freaking long that I just left without buying anything. Another instance of me looking like a sketchball. I went to Ed instead. HATE THAT PLACE. It is the most disgusting and ghetto grocery store ever. There was this insane woman who was just talking to herself but also to everyone about everything. I had to get the FACK out of there. Also, of course they only have the mint tabouli. So annoying. One last thought: I saw men jogging in cargo shorts. J’ADORE PARIS!

Also, does this kind of freak anyone else out?: 

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2111298/Meet-Indian-couple-children-set-new-record--worlds-biggest-ALBINO-family.html

the return

So I am back. Getting here was a wee bit of a nightmare though. On the flight over I sat next to an elderly (I think Korean) man. He not only took about ten minutes to sit down, therefore blocking the whole plane trying to board, but he also took over the whole goddamn arm rest. I don’t mean he took the armrest and left me to my seat. He jutted his fucking elbow out so that I was basically hanging over the edge of the aisle in danger of being taken out by bitchy stewardesses with their carts of pig slop. I was in such a bad mood that I couldn’t sleep the whole way. The one nice thing I will say about him is that he FUCKING FARTED THE WHOLE FLIGHT. No nice things. Only hate. On the plus side I watched three movies: Cedar Rapids, Moneyball, and Sideways. Cedar Rapids was a little disappointing. Basically everything funny was in the trailer. Moneyball was really boring. It was the slowest sports movie I’ve ever watched. Sideways was a little more depressing than I remember it being. However, the argument over ordering merlot was still just as funny. Wow, sorry for that really boring movie review, but I’m too lazy to go back and delete it. NO! WE MOVE FORWARD ONLY! (shout out to my companions in space). Getting through customs was a breeze. Side note, I just devoured a thing of tabouli (poulet grillé DUHHH). It’s just as good as I remember. Anyways, so baggage claim was a carnival of freaks. My favorite was the bootylicious woman wearing her juicy across the ass sweat suit. Also, her hair was so nasty. It looked like one of those Halloween witches wigs that get all tangled and disgusting. Then she turned around and I swear to God I thought I was staring at the cat lady (Jocelyn whats-her-face). I had some problems getting on the RER. I thought that I could change money at the RER station, but I forgot that there is nothing but a Relay and ticket machines that don’t take American credit cards. That is one thing I wish we would catch up on. Can we just get those damn chips in our cards so that we can use them abroad!?!?!? I swear every other country I’ve been to has those. I had to get back on the tram and find a money exchange. It’s always startling changing money, because you get back so little. It’s sad. Also, euros are so small you feel like you have NOTHING in your pocket. MONOPOLY MONEY! When I got on the RER it was like coming home to an old friend. I forgot how ugly and gross it is. I also got lucky enough to sit in the car with a woman who had a box of what had to be rotting fish, because it smelled so badly. Then of course the dopey Asian tourist girl sits RIGHT NEXT TO ME. I don’t understand people’s perception of available space. Literally, the whole entire car is open and she sits next to me. The ride was nostalgic, hitting all my old stops. As soon as we got to Châtelet, the waft of that sickly sweet cheap cologne that every greasy street rat in Paris seems to wear hit my nose. I knew I was home. HA! When I got to Madame’s finally, I realized that I had technically told her I would be arriving YESTERDAY. I’m an idiot, and I didn’t account for the time change. WOOPS! Thankfully she was home (I think I woke her up), and super lucky, Demitrii was here too! HAHAHAHAHAH. Also, he was sleeping in my bed….awk. I literally fell asleep and didn’t wake up again until 4pm. Pathetic. So my first day in Paris has been spent in CDG, the RER, and bed. I did just leave to find an Internet café to send the Big Kimchee and P.master Hoge. I obvi had to stop at Monoprix to get food, because I hadn’t eaten anything all day. Which is how we get back to the huge thing of tabouli. YAY IT MAKES SENSE! I also bought myself a bottle of the finest 1euro vintage to stun myself into 8 more hours of sleep tonight. Plan is to wake up TRET TÔT and hit the musées! Another side note: I started reading the actual Hunger Games (not just my sad version of fat girl games in Sadler) and I am NERDING OUT. I bought the first one to read on the plane, but I finished it that night. I bought the second one at Hudson News for TWENTY FUCKING DOLLARS. That’s so many drinks….if you’re drinking Rainier. BUT STILL SO MANY DRINKS! I didn’t let myself buy the third one, but now I wish I had. The second one barely got me to Philly. I have the Girl with the Dragon Tattoo to read now, but it is going very slowly. Rachel likes it though, so I’m trying to read it. Four years together…you wouldn’t believe how quickly you run out of things to talk about. Speaking of four, I had a four-hour dinner with Madame. Topics this evening ranged from the horrendous tranny Barbie doll who lived with her last semester to fortified medieval castles in France. Typical evening. I’m dying from exhaustion even though I’ve only been up for a few hours. I’m a fucking sloth. Sloth woman out. 

Bonjour Paris!: Thailand Edition

So last time I was in Thailand I just wrote group emails, but nobody ever responded to me. It broke my heart. I figure this is an easier way for those of you who at least pretend to care what I do with my life to keep up with me. Yes, I realize this blog was supposed to be about my semester abroad, but I don't feel like making a new one. It's my summer abroad, so there's your correlation. So I'm working at the Mercy Children's Home in Pattaya Thailand. About twenty kids live there. These are kids who have been rescued from horrible family situations. Just recently we got two new kids from the slums. I actually saw today where they used to live, and Mercy is without a doubt the better place for them. My days are pretty routine. I live in the really really luxurious volunteer house with a volunteer named Sharon and her... I guess he's kind of her ward, Golf. I wake up around 6am to Golf serenading me in Thai. What a way to start my day. Then I loll about in my sweat until I figure that I should take a shower. Our bathroom is the nicest bathroom I've ever had. We have no hot water. We do not have a flush toilet. There is a hole in the floor that drains down to the shit pit. It's pure luxury. Then I try and get myself ready before I start sweating again. Breakfast is composed of whatever is not frozen from my uber powerful mini fridge plus some peanut butter. The two dogs, Shasta and Shilo, maul me until I give them something to eat. Then they run away leaving me alone. If that's not true love then I don't know what is. Then Sharon and I hop on her motor bike to head to the actual Mercy Home. Once there I fart around and do what's needed until about noon. It's really slow in the morning, because all the kids are at school except for the 3 toddlers. They go down for a nap and then Sharon and I go to lunch. After lunch is nap time. Then they wake up. Snacks. Playing time. Kids come home from school. More playing. Ride home. Eat dinner. Sweat on the couch. Fall asleep around....8pm. I've turned into a 90 year old woman, but what's new? Once in a while I get to go into town to buy groceries or whatever. Sundays are church days. I'm not exactly one with the Lord, so I usually go sit in air conditioning drinking iced lattes until they're done. Life is simple and easy. Definitely a change from the mean streets of Paris. HA. The most exciting thing that's happened to me here is that I took a face plant today on the street. I was headed to the coffee shop where I sit while everyone is in church. I was feeling fly in my JCrew chino shorts and UW tshirt. My rainbows are not so fly anymore, because the dogs decided to rip the strap halfway. I'm going to blame the ripped strap for why I took a tumble (not as bad as Scarlet). I literally fell flat forward. Ripped the skin off the side of my foot and only protected my money maker (my model face DUH) with my palms. They now look like something has laid a chicken sized egg in each one. This makes doing basically anything painful and unfortunate. Showering or washing my hands is especially interesting. The combined stinging sensation thanks to the soap plus the simple pain of touching my severely bruised palms together with any sort of pressure makes these activities something I now look forward to more than usual. I just reread what I wrote and I sound like whiny biotch. I mean I am in freaking Thailand. I guess I should express something that I'm grateful for to counteract all my negativity. Thinking.....For those of you with delicate sensibilities stop reading...HERE. I'm not going into detail, because it'd be gross. My stomach has finally stopped feeling like there's a raging wild fire in it, and that is all I'm going to say. Also, this internet has aircon and I am grateful for that. I don't know if I'm going to update again, because nothing that different is going to be happening in the next couple of weeks. If you love me send me an email for me to read with some juicy gossip. Perez just isn't cutting it lately.

"its my fucking 21st!!!!!!!!!!!!"............"ya bitch we know"

once again writing a post because i dont want to do work. this is the best procrastination tool ever. so all i really have to talk about is my 21st. in paris nobody gives a flying fuck bc theyve all been drinking booze since they were on the tit. even though my father has maintained a relatively liberal policy on bevs with me for a long while (and more recently momma kimster as well thanks to douglas) ive still held on to an american mindset of drinking. im pretty sure that we have so many binge drinking problems in the states bc its so restricted for the youth. i mean its a little ridiculous that an 18 year old can go die for their country but cant enjoy a beer. ok getting way off topic but you get my point. so anywayssss back to me bc thats what this blog is all about BAH. so regardless of me being in france, i wanted a real american 21st. i wanted to drink too much and make lots of bad decisions and want to die the next day. i didnt really know if that was going to happen though bc my bday fell on a monday. its hard going out on mondays but even worse in paris bc there is literally nothing going on. i decided to just do my own thing anyways. my friends and i made it to our fav spot beho for happy hour. we immediately ordered two drinks each bc the eight hour happy hour was almost over. for some reason we can never get our shit together on time. i decided on long islands due to their drinkability as well as the high percentage of alcohol to mixer. it seemed after my 3rd that it was a bad decision bc i didnt feel shit. i was a little cranky. the bartender was nice though and extended happy hour for cocktails another hour. after we had had our fill of 3,50 stellas and 4,50 long islands...and a random gin and tonic?.....we peaced out to go to hideout. we wanted cheap pints and hideout is the place. being a monday there were approximately....ZERO ppl in the bar. i think at this point is when all the long islands hit me and i said bai bai to reality. hideout was a BLAST. hunter and i attempted to "shag" again. no we did not try to fuck in the middle of the bar. apparently the shag is a dance thing? i dont think its made its way to wm but i think we could make it happen. some wasted frenchies tried to come in but they got hardcore bounced. they sang me happy birthday before they left though. then begged me to let them buy me a drink so that they could stay. im pretty sure i just laughed in all their faces and continued to love on my pint. then the bartender made them say baiiiii and they were escorted out like misbehaving toddlers. we wrapped up at hideout and decided to make a return to the illustrious banana cafe. we hadnt gone back since oriental night which was special for everyone. the coat check boy was faboosh and wished me a happy bday. upon entering ALL MY JAMS were playing so i was tearing up the dance floor solo. the resident drag queen decided she wanted to...i dunno what her point was but basically she lifted my skirt. i tried to retaliate but seeing as she was wearing a very tight mesh dress with accompanying thong and bra it didnt go well. i returned to my solo on the dance floor (where were kate and hunter iunno? dancing with me? who knows) kate had to go bai bai bc she had a test but hunter stayed...even though he also had a test. i think he went bai bai to the real world at this point too. i dont want to go into more details but that night banana cafe won and hunter and i both LOST. i got home google phoned katie h. at around 6:30 but had to go soon after. my trash can was calling me. it continued to call me until around 4 pm the next day. tuesday was a sad day. my bed and i got really close though. also THANK GOD FOR SVU ONLINE. something about olivia and elliot catching pedos and rapists makes my heart sing. i did not even make it to dinner even though its approximately 10 feet away from my bed. pathetic. in the end all the pain was worth it bc i had a true american 21st....even though it was in paris. also cost WAY TOO MUCH. but its ok im just going to not eat anything until april except what mme gives me and CROUS (...like the caf but impossible to truly explain). the boozing continues as im going to champage on saturday. i havent actually read the itinerary but i hope its fun. or else thats a whole saturday wasted. have to be at that shit by 8:30! and now my followers (the few but loyal except for katie bc shes a horrible friend and doesnt love me enough to actually read any of these...i guarantee you she will see this in about 2 months and be offended hahahahah <3) i might actually do work...nah dawg gonna stumble upon until dindin.

only bc my planner told me i had to

writing a really fast and short-ish post bc i wrote it down in my planner and im procrastinating from doing any real work. teeps was here this weekend. it was magical. for deets ask her bc im sure she would love to tell you about almost getting put in jail. im not joking. just ask her. currently digesting a feast of a lunch that ended up in us feeding pigeons to freak out kate. shes gonna need a xanax once we get to venice...hahahahahahhaha. i have 2 outlines (1pg each) and accompanying introductions (1pg each) due tomorrow for my conference classes. instead of doing this relatively simple assignment, i am writing this. how pathetic. i literally am incapable of doing any real work. other things i am putting off: figuring out accommodations for spring break, taking a shower, anything that involves getting out of bed. i had a special night on thursday mostly due to the fact that teach me how to dougie, youre the one that i want, and i had the time of my life all came on in the bar in the sex dungeon/dance floor. it was too much for me to handle. i was able to go to a very nice dinner on friday with my friends and teepsy for my upcoming 21st aka tomorrow courtesy of papa hoge. it was worth it. kate flirted with a flower man and two waiters "pretended" to steal my debit card. i also ate a baby animal aka lamb covered in sauce. i dont feel bad at all. i also received a package from my father earlier this week containing brand new clothes (tags still on) from jcrew. i cried a little. i also received 2 pairs of my cords that i left in home. what a fool i was thinking i could make it 4 months without cords. pffffft. when teeps came she brought me more than gifts from america. i got my dryer sheets and shampoo as requested. also papa hoge sent with her my hacker manual (for the papers im avoiding) and funny face (writing one paper on it HAH). hilz sent me a lovely romantic letter. jenn however sent me 21 things for my 21 years of life. all 21 things came from the dolla dolla billz section at target. i know have in my possession a snake mask (favorite), disney princess card games, and glow sticks. those are just a sampling of the treasures i got. teeps brought me a commemorative kate and william shot glass from london. basically im set for life. the weather has been really nice which is great for my mood. it was a little colder today but still significantly warmer than it was when we first got here. IT IS MY BDAY TOMORROW BTW. 21. it doesnt mean shit in paris but im going to make it mean something. we failed at going out for my bday officially bc teepsy was exhausted and i was worn out from special times thursday. you think i would get it by now that when i go out on thursdays im a crazy and die for the rest of the weekend. O NO. almost forgot...but i couldnt forget this jewel. as ive mentioned before, mme LOVESSS to talk crazy at dindin. last night was a new high. we started on modern art (i had gone to pompidou that day) we ended up at legalizing prostitution and gays. a choice tidbit from this rambling convo was mme admitting to me that her friend and her back in the day had jokingly made a pact to become humanitarian prostitutes for the needy. imagine your GRANDMOTHER saying this to you. well its approx 7 pm and i have yet to start these papers due tomorrow at 11 so im going to wrap this up. aka im probably going to stumble upon for an hour then eat dinner then roll around.

put it in my mouth right meow...so porn

sorry for the huge gap in posts but i think i was suffering from seasonal depression bc paris is one big fucking grey blob with dog shit everywhere. ANYWAYS things were just trucking and nothing really exciting happened. thennnn api went out on the planned excursion to the south of france. it was love. we stayed in aix-en-provence for two nights and we made a day trip to cassis. then we spent a day in marseille as well. im in love with aix. its literally so beautiful and picturesque. we just walked around all day and got lost in the little streets. ate so much good food. there was even an open air market on saturday. that was probably my favorite part. so many awesome fruits and veggies, cheese, seafood, pottery, anything you could ever want. we also had a very successful evening out including tapas, karaoke, me getting called a BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEETCH by a blackout french woman, me getting confrontational with some sleazy ass guys, dancing to black eyed peas then realizing everyone in the bar was chanting FUCK THE USA (so charming) but thinking they were chanting CHUG USA, then hitting up SNACK CESAR for a burger. o but wait that burger came on a BAGUETTE. and there were fries INSIDE the baguette. i ate it in the dark in bed by my usual standards and woke up with makeup and beef all over my sheets. cassis is a teeny tiny seaside town. hunter crapped his pants with joy bc he missed the coast so much. im not gonna lie i may have needed a wet one as well bc i LOVED it. putting my feet in the mediterranean was magnifique! marseille was a little meh just bc we were in a bus for the majority of the day. let me tell you i thought french ppl smelled bad but so do americans if you throw them in a non-ac bus for a million years. i think my face got sunburned through the window. i was like a little ant being fried under a microscope and if you know me you know how delicate my skin is. its like fucking rice paper. you blow on it and it decides to hate me and i turn into a scaly man fish. all weekend we continuously got snacks from the grocery and we all found a new love for pasta salad and couscous from the little markets. i think i ate about a million of those little tuperwares. o and fresh fruit tasted like angel pee. and by angel pee i mean it was the most glorious taste ever. heavenly.
the weekend trip proved to be a great escape for me and it has enabled me to reflect on my life in paris a little. i didnt realize until i got to the south that i wasnt that happy in paris. i was FINE but i wasnt having the time of my life. this is something i expected before i left partially bc im a debbie downer pessimistic polly negative nancy but also bc i had talked it about with kitty kat a lot before i came. she recently just spent her semester in spain and had an amazing time but as we both decided in discussion not "the time of her life" kat and i are very similar in that what most people see as being huge markers in their lives aka highschool, college, study abroad, etc havent exactly panned out how they do for most people. im not saying these things have been absolutely horrible and scarring (thought sometimes yes) but mostly that we dont see them as the best years of our lives. i know personally that i have no desire for college to be the best of my life bc then wtf is the point of living anymore. i may be a downer but im not about to settle for that and off it once i graduate. anyways im getting a little off track here. point is, ppl always say that study abroad is SO AWESOME OMG IM SO JEALOUS I HAD SO MUCH FUN IN ________________!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! insert any generic country there. not that paris is original. like i said before, i wasnt expecting that experience at all. but i guess i still got a little down bc i feel like everyone around me IS having that much fun while i just dont feel that excited. i know i should be shitting my pants to be in PARIS but im not. i will begrudgingly give up some of that to culture shock. the other part i dont really know. partially the lack of sunlight, although i have a hard time believing that seeing as i come from seattle where the sun is as rare if not more so than paris. i think i was coming to the brink of a lexi meltdown. if any of you have witnessed one of these, its not pretty. aka: rachel (hey remember that one time on the floor? o wait that was every weekend) so our little excursion to the land of the sun was just what i needed to get myself out of a funk. i readjusted my attitude and im going to let go of any anger i have towards things here. yes i will point out that its really fucking annoying that i have to avoid dog shit every time i walk out my door or that even when i try to speak french people feel the need to speak english to me, but i will not simmer over how much it pisses me off. its just paris and i cant change it. what i can do is get the FUCK over myself and start being proactive and positive. kate hunter and i will be going to all the monuments and be tourists bc guess what WE ARE TOURISTS. we will speak french even when we get responses in english. (sorry for throwing you guys in this but its a team effort right? meow...) i dont wanna come back and have regrets about my experience bc of what i did or didnt do. im going all out and letting myself be open to experiences and not be afraid of looking stupid (not hard) or making mistakes.
on a less soul searching note....teeps is arriving tomorrow night and im so excited that im shaking with anticipation of attacking her in gare du nord. shes bringing me gifts of america aka dryer sheets and i cant fucking WAIT. its also my 21st in a week so we will be running all over town. ive requested a bucket list as my only gift and im pretty sure that singing and or dancing in the metro for money will be involved. im a little terrified bc i think kate will take this really seriously and i will end up naked passed out in the metro right next to a hobo with a mustache tattooed on my face. on the upside ive always wanted a mustache tattoo. nothing a little makeup cant deal with RIGHT!??!?!?!??!?! i really hope i can show teepsy a good time bc i feel like she has high expectations for my expertise. ill just fake it till i make it. anyways the hw calls bc i apparently have a test tomorrow? blah id rather lie in bed and eat butter cookies.