Glasgow & Edinburgh

"OPEN LOCHS WHOEVER KNOCHS!"

For those of you who don't know this, I happen to live, whilst I am at Chapman, with a lovely woman by the name of Melanie Ward. She is also currently studying abroad, but at the University of Glasgow in Scotland. You can read her blog here. It was going to be called "Open Lochs Whoever Knochs," except that you really have to appreciate really specific Shakespeare references and have a basic understanding of Scottish geography to get the joke, and SOMEBODY didn't want to take that risk. WHATEVER. I guess most people either don't have a deep love for the Scottish play or haven't spent entire summers watching different groups of small children perform Macbeth over and over again.

If you're curious, when Macbeth goes to visit the witches, one of them utters the famous line, "By the pricking of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes," which most people have heard. The second half of that line is, "Open locks, whoever knocks." Alas, Scotland also has bodies of water called lochs. And now you get the joke.

I flew out of Nice, France on Thursday afternoon after legitimately making a break from the College right after class, just got my backpack and practically ran down the beachfront to the Hotel de Ville, where the express bus leaves from. It was so beautiful and sunny and warm, and of course I was heading to the cold and wet and overcast.

You have no idea how excited I was to go to Scotland though. Not just to see Mel, although of course that was a big part of it, but I

have ALWAYS wanted to go to Scotland. Being a "European mutt" several generations in America, I have decidedly little in the way of cultural knowledge from the non-Jewish part of my family. While I feel like my European Jewish heritage makes up the prominent parts of my upbringing, spirituality, personality, and general cultural identity, the "outside" of me, as it were: how I look, my name, my traced genealogy is all from Scotland. It amuses me when people say that "Stewart" isn't a very Scottish last name, when it is, in fact, the Scottish last

name. The Stewarts are one of the most famous Highland clans in Scotland because they were the ruling clan for some time (see: Mary Queen of Scots, King James, etc.) ALSO, I just learned that they mark their descent from none other than Banquo himself, WHO, if you are familiar with Macbeth, is not only an awesome fictional character/ghost, but a real person. I have a deep and passionate love for Scottish history (and history in general) and growing up my favorite books were the Stuart Quartet (which I just learned it was called) by Jane Yolen and Robert Harris, which includes Queen's Own Fool, The Rogues, Prince Across the Water, and Girl in a Cage, which are all fantastic books if you're into that genre. Queen's Own Fool is my favorite. I should reread it.

Anyway, the point of this was that my family was very relevant in Scottish history.

By the early 1900's however most of the Stewarts were tenant farmers though, and Jack O'the Hill Stewart came over to America in the big immigration rush, worked on a farm in New York, married the farmer's daughter who was named Mariah Kelsey (who I'm middle-named after) and they moved to Canada where many of my dad's relatives live to this day. Many of them also currently live in Michigan where they run a successful variety of stores called Nelson's Plumbing/Shoes/whatever, which of course makes no sense because anyone who's ever owned them has been named Stewart.

The moral of this story was that I was really excited to go to Scotland and return to the land of my ancestors and books and plays that I adore so much.

After spending summer days laying on the cool linoleum floors of church sunday school rooms with my eyes closed, leading 7-12 year olds on imaginary journeys of what Scotland was like, I thought it was about time I go see it properly for myself.

And it was beautiful.

I got to Glasgow eventually very late in the evening, after taking the plane from Nice to London and then finally to Glasgow and being a hot mess of myself. I was quickly brought to the understanding that the Glaswegian accent is notoriously incoherent, even for Scotland, and I realized at times in my journey from the airport to Mel's residence that I thought French would have been significantly easier to understand. It was wonderful to see Mel, and we spent the evening eating pizza (blessed, blessed American-style pizza) and talking about our study abroad lives, and of course recording the lip-synched videos of High School Musical songs that I posted earlier.

Friday morning, more or less on a whim, we went to a hair salon, because Mel wanted a pink streak and I was more than tempted by the prospect of stylists that spoke English. Scotland, apparently, is really really down with punk hair styling and sort of punk-fashion in general, which is FANTASTIC. The first salon we stopped into not only knew how to do bleach streaks and unnatural dye jobs fantastically, but did it for a STEAL, with very nice facilities. My top bleach streak is now significantly wider and whiter. It looks fantastic, and Mel's pink streak looks sick too. She took me to her school, which was actually jaw-droppingly gorgeous. You could really just stand and stare at it all day long, which was a welcome change from the rancho-style square that is the College International, and god was it beautiful. I understand it was the first choice to be Hogwarts but they turned it down. That's how impressive it is.

The University of Glasgow

The second half of the way we spent walking around City Centre and Buchanan Street and St. George's square. Their subway is blissfully simple, just two circles, and it's called the subway. Fancy that. I also got my watch fixed, after I spastically flung it (by accident) across the terminal in Heathrow. For dinner, Mel's mom was kind enough to treat us (via credit card) to a steak dinner at this exquisite restaurant called Bo'Vine (clever clever). I ate exceptionally well the entire time I was in Scotland. I had delicious steak and wine and creme brulee for dessert and it was beyond fantastic.

On Saturday we took the train to Edinburgh, which is was unbelievably cool. We took a hop-on hop-off bus tour, because things are actually cheap in Scotland and it was incredibly cold/windy. I am a firm believer in bus tours, despite the touristyness of them, if you don't have someone to show you around with a car. You get to see everything in an efficient manner and someone tells you what it is, and you can get off and look and appreciate it. We saw the castle and all manner of beautiful buildings and cathedrals. I would so so love to go back to Scotland.

Edinburgh

On the train back we decided to go to the cinema, because it was raining and there was time to kill, and we saw The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel, which was very charming and really cute. Not the best screenplay ever but fantastic actors with a really unique story, very involving, and very pretty. Worth seeing. Mel made us dinner (holy shit we're learning independence skills, what is this madness) and we made more obnoxious videos (which you can check out on Facebook) until far too late in the evening, which is a particular skill of ours. Like I said, it was really wonderful. :)

Castles on castles on castles...

On Sunday I left around noon and made it back to Cannes later that night with very little difficulty. I have no cash in either euros or pounds, lots of fantastic pictures, and had an amazing weekend.

In other news, the Oscars were yesterday, and I didn't get to see them because our internet is not capable of such feats, and also it was on in the wee hours of the morning here. I know the winners though, and for the most part I was fairly correct in my predictions. I'm particularly really really happy Midnight in Paris won for Screenplay. Deserved in every possible way.

I would love to return to Scotland someday, hopefully soon, especially to the Highlands and the sacred places, or back to Edinburgh for the Fringe festival. Someone was performing a play of Fahrenheit 451. How. Legit.

The Shark Tank/Presidential Suite/The Mel and Michaela Club in Scotland.

EVERYDAY. In Glasgow.

This video brought to you by the musical stylings of Zac Efron and Vanessa Hudgens.

In case you were wondering, this is exactly what Mel and I do all day every day when we're living together.

If you think I'm kidding, you should know that I'm completely serious.

No One Wants to See Ghostrider 2 With Me & Other Dumb Stuff

When you start a class yelling out, "J'ADORE NICOLAS CAGE!" you know it's going to be very educational.

Here are some things I learned in French class today:

- A skinned rabbit looks the same as a skinned cat, which, according to my french teacher, is why a lot of young people don't want to eat them.

- "Lacoste" MEANS alligator. That's why it's the logo. I have no idea how I didn't know that.

- Eating turtles is gross.

- French people don't know what Funfetti cake is. And they don't understand why it exists once you explain. "C'est une chose pour les enfants?" "C'EST POUR TOUT LE MONDE!"

- The origin of pineapple upside-down cake, as told by Claude (our teacher) and Claire:

Claude: Je raconter l'histoire de la gastronomie française et tu me parles de 'pineapple upside-down cake'?? I'm telling you the story of French gastronomy and you're talking to me about pineapple upside-down cake??

Claire: Des ananas! Pineapples!

Claude: Non! Il n'y a pas d'ananas en France. No, there are no pineapples in France.

Claire: Pour quoi? Why?

Claude: (gesturing angrily out the window) PAR-CE QUE IL FAIT FROID!! BECAUSE IT'S COLD!!

We have a test on Tuesday. On words relating to making arguments and stating facts. All I'm going to remember is the words for different cuts of meat, and also that "clé" means key, because Claude thinks it's hilarious to make a kid named Clay open the door with the "clé" every morning, because he is just so full of clever wordplay. We have begun speaking french with American accents during class to piss him off. He in turn makes fun of everything else about us and makes racist jokes and asks us to tell him what the titles for certain movies are in English. We told him "La Taupe" was "Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy." He said we were retarded.

So much learniinnngggg....

I am feeling less sick, but my throat hurts from coughing and phlegm. In the good way though, when you know you're on the mend. I have been drinking beaucoup de the avec du miel (and also eating the sugar cubes, because I am a secretly a pony) and speaking Franglish amongst my peers (some of whom have been diagnosed with strep and bronchitis. Wash your hands.) The cover of the newspaper today was talking about this "grippe epidemic" that has taken over France, so apparently it's not just people at the College. On the plus side it has gotten warmer, and today was beautiful and is supposed to stay beautiful over the weekend. Of course this means I shall head to Glasgow tomorrow to be amongst the freezing and overcast.

Wish me luck!! I shall need it.

Festival et Carnivale

Two things! #1- I am sick. So is the entire College. It has sparked conversation that if someone had strep, we'd all get strep and die. We're big big fans of rumors here at the College. People believe that thousands of foreigners are moving in, that we all have to move rooms, and that somebody has herpes--all before 9AM. So the epidemic is lending itself very well to that.

#2- I went to shit tons of festivals this weekend. The first was in Cannes, at the Palais des Festivals (where the film festival is in May), called the Festival

International des Jeux. It is, in essence, French ComicCon, complete with people dressed as Naruto characters and zombies and characters from Team Fortress 2. I will not call them nerds, because I knew exactly who they were supposed to be, so I won't throw stones in my glass house. It was vastly, vastly entertaining though. Jenn and I were sort of having a slob day and blended in with the hordes of sweaty nerds playing Settlers of Cataan.

We had a blast, and just looking around at everything was awesome. There's so much cool shit!! My dad and brother would have fairly died of joy several times, and I very much appreciated that. The big thing everyone was excited about at the festival though was a new version of Monopoly Cannes that they were revealing there. It was 45euros, and alas, not worth it, especially if no one at home will appreciate the significance of the streets, so we just took lots of pictures with the giant display. The second festival of the weekend was on Sunday, the Carnivale de Nice, which I guess is the closest thing France has to Carnivale, and they take it very seriously.

The theme this year was sports, and the majority of the floats reflected this. Nice is an unbelievably beautiful city. The Promenade des Anglais is a long wide sidewalk next to the seafront (where the water is crystal clear blue). I could almost be persuaded to take up jogging were I in Nice. Or perhaps roller-blading, which is also a big thing. Nice is about 45 minutes away from Cannes by bus, to give you some perspective. The Carnivale was really, really fun, and very foreign in a weird way. It's really interesting to see how other cultures make cartoon people, the sense of humor and the artistic style, the floats were unlike anything you'd see in America. Also, they

give cans of silly string to small children, and hilarity ensues. Check out my album on Facebook for pictures of all of this, as I could not possibly show them all here, but they're all pretty amazing. Political correctness

basically doesn't exist in France, as I might have mentioned, and the same rules of conduct don't necessarily apply in certain situations. For example, you can run into the street during a parade and join in or dance with the performers, and they can spray you with almost destructive amounts of silly string.

Drag queens are obviously a necessary component of any good celebration, and there were a LOT. After the parade we went to this little carnival set up in the city square, which for some reason I was really surprised by, "Why is there a carnival here???" Molly-"At Carnavale?" We had a little dinner at a sports bar before

getting back on the bus. I spent the evening trying to Skype with my family with The World's Worst Internet--AND, buying tickets!! Because I have travel plans now, and it is very very exciting. Unfortunately though the 4+ hours of very high stress trying to buy literally over 4 different plane tickets with EasyJet did a toll on my sickness, which definitely set back my recuperation by a lot. I really need to go downtown and get a lot of errands done, including but not limited to getting a sim card that can call the US--which I thought I wouldn't need if I had internet, but APPARENTLY NOT. The trip downtown is a long walk though, and I was really lightheaded and dizzy and ill all morning, which you didn't really need to know, but at this point you've read this far so may as well. March is going to be an extremely busy month of travel for me. This weekend I am going to Glasgow to visit the effervescent and charming Melanie Ward, (but have yet to figure out exactly how to get to the airport with the express bus), the following weekend AIFS is taking us to Paris for four days (madness will ensue), the weekend after that I am going to Amsterdam with the equally effervescent and charming Evan Revak. The weekend after that I get to rest, and then the following weekend my spring break starts!! I am officially going to Barcelona and Lisbon with Mel and then to Strasbourg with Evan and perhaps onto Germany. I'm very very much looking forward to spending time with people other than the same 60 of us in AIFS, who are basically laying in a metaphorical pile coughing on each other while speaking half-French. Plus also I GUESS I'm a fan of Evan and Mel. Even if they are not fans of each other. At least on Skype.

If I get a good sim card that lets me text America at reasonable prices, I will let you know. And then you can occasionally text me. Maybe even when you're sober. I applied for a Cannes Cinephile pass today which will allow me into screenings at the Festival if I'm not supplied one by my internship. In the letter part of my application I made sure to specify that I am responsible and will conduct myself well at the screenings.

Jenn: Why would you need to tell them that?

Me: Because the College International isn't exactly considered to be a bastion of academia around these parts...like you know how they have those videos on the AIFS website with kids being like, "Oh, I love how we're so close to the beach and can talk to locals!" but the real video is like, someone asleep in bed at 1pm with a half-drunk bottle of wine next to them, "Welcome to the College! Am I really drunk at 11am? Why yes I am!" and then the obnoxious deafening loudspeaker comes on like MADEMOISELLE ALLORY G A LA RECEPTION! MADEMOISELLE ALLORY! ♫ BEE-DEE-BOO. and they're just like UGH FUCK and fall back asleep with their face on their laptop, all muffled, "Let's go to the Foyer. I want fries."

THE END.

Culture Shock

That awkward moment when everyone in your study abroad program suddenly gets really depressed and irritable....and then your Resident Director (Saint Sandrine) emails everyone a document entitled "Settling-In: Get There. Get Settled. Go Deep."

Also that awkward moment when "go deep" isn't a weird thing to say if English isn't your first language. But I digress.

Get Settled: Culture Shock

Chances are, you will encounter culture shock as part of your experience abroad. Culture shock is basically an emotional reaction we experience when we are not able to understand, control, or predict the behavior of others. It can be described as "the need for something familiar coupled with excessive irritation from minor frustrations." It occurs when we find ourselves surrounded by new people who operate with different "rules" for using space, managing time, and relating to other people. It is common to feel anxious, confused, or apathetic. We may feel powerless, isolated, and lack our usual self-confidence.

What Does Culture Shock Feel Like?

Everyone experiences culture shock differently. Commonly associated feelings of culture shock include:

• Depression

• Lack of energy

• Unexplainable episodes of crying

• Anger

• A tendency to stereotype host nationals

• Irritability

• Homesickness

• Strong yearning for old friends

• Fear of being cheated

• Recurring minor illnesses

• Decline in work effectiveness

• Conflict and tension among family members

• Compulsive drinking or eating

• Excessive sleeping or isolating

• Seeing everything as negative

I have bolded all of the ones I am currently experiencing, and my roommates are definitely experiencing the rest of them. I'm probably less angry and negative as a reaction to that...a peace-keeping calming coping mechanism.

The Stages of Culture Shock and Adjustment

If you ever watched the cartoon, G.I.Joe, then you’ll probably remember its catch phrase, “Knowing is Half the Battle.” In the case of culture shock, grasping where you are in terms of adjustment may not be half the battle, but it is certainly an important part of it. Knowing what to expect during each of the four stages of culture shock can help you to anticipate and accept the emotional highs and lows that accompany a cross-cultural move. It is also good to know you’re not alone in your feelings and that there is support available to you as you experience culture shock.

It goes on to list several coping mechanisms to help handle culture shock including: know what you're dealing with, write about your feelings, do things that help you remember who you are (ie. talking to friends, listening to your music, reading), stay active, develop small goals (At least for me, I never had the grandiose goals I've heard some people have, like going to a new city every weekend, but since I've gotten here, my day to day goals during the week, which sometimes I can't even meet, are like, do laundry!) and learn about the culture while trying to stay balanced. Staying balanced is the key.

I'm starting to get sick and am very very tired, so I'm thinking now that I need to tip the balance scales a bit in the other direction and try and just take it easy tonight and this weekend. Ugh. First world problems. Studying abroad in France is stressful. I will say though that I think my spoken French is getting better. I find myself speaking bits of it at random intervals, which is really exciting. When you get to a point with a language that sometimes you can express certain thoughts better using it it feels like you've started to get a grasp on it. "Pas de problem" is a very useful phrase which perhaps sort of self-explanatorily means, "It's not a problem." Except in the world of Franglish which is spoken at the College, "Pas de big deal," is far more useful. So holla at 4th Floor South (#notabigdeal).

Another fun tidbit is that I'm sort of trying to figure out a new name to tell French kids we meet, because "Michaela" is really hard to grasp in French. They say it Mee-kah-laa (that is, when they understand me) as opposed to Mih-kay-luh, like how it's pronounced in English, and unlike "Micaela" in Spanish, it's not a name that people have, and they tend to spell it like Mikéla. Miké might not be a bad way to go, pronounced Mee-kay, but that's just "Mike" with an accent, and then Lowi wins and I am forever Mike at Dodge College.

Except that I'm already forever Mike at Dodge College. So that's probably just that.

PS. Be on the lookout for postcards in the mail! There are a few I haven't gotten to yet, but I just mailed like 10 of them, and if you read this, chances are high you're getting one. And if you haven't, you should send me your mailing address, and I will most assuredly send you one. xx

San Valentin et Le Coup de Foudre

Happy Valentine's Day!!

Valentine's Day is one of my favorite holidays, for many reasons. I love pink things and hearts and roses and the things associated with Valentine's Day and then the stores are filled with them. I am a huge fan of chocolate, especially that which is shaped like a heart, and am especially a fan of the Great LAYT Chocolate Wars, a treasured tradition brought to us during As You Like It by the great Shannon Stowe. (What does that involve you might ask? Buy bags and bags of hard chocolates, stop rehearsal, flip over some tables and THROW THEM AT PEOPLE. No bruises no glory.) It is also my parents' anniversary, and thusly always a day of celebration in my household, and my brother's best friend growing up's birthday. RED SKINNY JEANS FOR VALENTINES DAY ALL DAY ERRY DAY.

This picture was taken of me trying to sit up on the ledge of our balcony. Yeah, you heard me. Our balcony. Jenn and I got a balcony as a compensation because we took the risk of getting a triple with a mystery third roommate and ended up getting Molly, who we love. Gambling works out sometimes. The picture is awkward but Molly pointed out that it looks like an ad for American Apparel--two things which are definitely not mutually exclusive, so I am embracing that in full force.

This morning was one of the sunniest and nicest days we've had so far in Cannes. Molly's alarm woke us up playing "Somebody to Love" and we got dressed and went to class. My French teacher Claude continued his Valentine's Week theme of asking us prodding questions about our love lives, but then got bored of our romances, which are apparently not passionate or interesting enough for his tastes. He split the class boys-girls and then made all the boys pretend to be one girl and all the girls pretend to be one boy, and then we asked each other questions in French. It was a group exercise both in language and getting the group to a shared consciousness. The boys' "girl's" boy was Ethiopian and they met in the gym taking a shower together. The boy we made up couldn't settle for one woman, but our favorite lover was Rosie, with rose (pink) hair and matching rose shoes, who we met a discotec during a Lady Gaga song. She dances like Lady Gaga (which is what got our attention), our favorite part about her is her body, she looks like Katy Perry and works at Leader Price.

Men and women have different fantasies of each other.

I finally got the Foyer (our little on-campus cafe) to make me a mocha--fuck. yes.--and we spent break making fun of each other for wearing black on Valentine's Day (I was half and half) and talking about our "plans" for Valentine's Day. We're all alone here, we're either single or our significant other lives halfway around the world, so basically it was like, what bar are you going to go to tonight? Are you going to torture yourself and watch sappy romantic movies? What kind of wine are you going to get drunk on? I had been spending class listening to our fake love story conversations drawing Valentine's Day doodles and lyrics from Moulin Rouge, so I was joking about spending tonight drinking wine and watching it. Guess what I'm doing right now? Minus the wine even, though I bought some (some kid brought a bottle of wine to dinner tonight at the caf and they just didn't even give a fuck.) They went ALL OUT for lunch today, with roses on the tables and heart confetti on the floor and DUCK and scalloped potatoes and tiramisu for dessert! We had to fight the Italian kids for dessert, like physically, and Maxzene stole one and we just ate it out of the pan....classy times at the College International. I may or may not have had to get some whip cream out of my hair.

In the afternoon, Jenn and Molly and did some Valentine's Day retail therapy (plus today is the last day of winter sales on La Croisette, so if you didn't take advantage of that, you're just stupid) and I bought no joke over 20 euros worth of postcards, so expect to receive one soon. ;)

Things are moving right along, as always, and tonight I'm listening to "Elephant Love Medley" on repeat and writing nice messages to my friends. Happy, happy Valentine's Day. I love you guys so much.

Monaco, Eze, and Bâoli

Bon soir. We went on an excursion to Monaco yesterday. Yesterday was a very long day, and we woke up early (for the weekend, it was the same time we normally wake up for class) and got on the charter bus! It wasn't all of that interesting in terms of funny stories because we just walked around and toured things, and the pictures I took explain a lot more, so this might be more picture heavy than usual. The way to Monaco gave way to some really beautiful views out the window. We drove through Nice, and then along the coast, where at one point we pulled over so the bus driver could have a smoke--I mean so we could take pictures. It was just gorgeous, and it makes you realize how futile your little camera can be sometimes. The south of France is a big fan of panoramic views, and it's just amazing.

We did lots of things of things in Monaco, including the Palais, and the cathedral where Princess Grace is buried, the Oceanographique Museum, and of course, Monte Carlo. Monaco is only 1 square kilometer, so it's not exactly like hours of sights to see. But what there is to see is quite opulent.

Monaco used to be one of the poorest countries in Europe, but then they built the Casino de Monte Carlo, and now they're one of the richest. They have a 0% crime rate because poor people can't afford to live there, and apparently everything is covered by surveillance cameras.

It was ungodly cold in Monaco, easily perhaps below freezing (which is why I look awkward in a lot of the pictures, I'm wearing like 3 coats) with crazy crazy windchill. This is a glorious picture of Jenn and Karnig making their way through the streets of Monaco.

Monaco and the whole Cannes thing in general both have just major first world problems like crazy. Life in the south of France is hard, guys. It's really cold in the richest country ever, populated only by extremely wealthy people and celebrities, with a 0% crime rate. We went to the aquarium, and I'm not going to post all of the pictures of fish I took (you have Facebook for that!!) but it was pretty exciting. There is this giant octopus statue in the lobby that has its tentacles wrapping around the pillars, and it's really intense. I would describe it as very Watchmen-esque.

There's something intensely serene about aquariums, and everyone likes them...even people like me who are afraid of those giant whale statues that hang from the ceilings. We toured the cathedral, which had relics and things. After Westminster Abbey it was a little underwhelming, but it was still small and beautiful, as most of Monaco is. It and the aquarium are made of the same stone. Now, the "top floor" of the Oceanographic Museum is called the Panorama, and we didn't understand realize what that meant. It is in fact the roof, and it's all made of white marble, and you can see essentially all of Monaco from it. The wind was blowing so hard it was almost like you could lean back on it and support yourself, and it was so cold and crazy and surprising and amazingly beautiful and white I felt like I was on an iceberg. It was just absolutely exhilarating, and I was totally ecstatic about it. Just grinning the entire time.

(One of the most fabulously successful photobomb efforts ever.)

After that we went to the Monte Carlo, however actually going into the gambling parts of it cost 10 euros, so most of walked around the lobby and reveled in that, taking pictures and going to the very glamorous bathrooms--which were free. (First world problems, gambling in Monaco is too expensive.) The Monte Carlo is very exciting, and I remember from our trip to visit Trisha just driving around the driveway at night, you feel like a celebrity, very exclusive and very classy.

Molly, Jenn, Karnig, and I walked around and ended up in a very very fancy mall, all designer stores and crystal chandeliers and beautiful twisted iron railings. We tried on designer perfumes at Sephora and other classy shit and then made our way back to the buses and headed off to Eze!

It's so interesting to go back to all these places after visiting them freshman year. So far there haven't been a lot of repeat locations, as it were, but that whole day was places I'd been before. It's different being here in this way. The first time I came here was the first time I had ever been to Europe, or even really out of the country properly. It was all new and very glamorous and exciting, and staying with my friend and her family gave a sort of groundedness to the experience that was really cool, like I was going into this world and experiencing it in a relaxed, fun, visiting way, not like this, which is really like LOL I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT I'M DOING all. the. time. It's hard to live that way, but it really is an adventure of sorts. Like I've been saying, I'm constantly in a state of processing things. You don't realize how crazy it all is until you realize you can fall asleep for 5 hours in the middle of the day and it isn't jet lag...your brain is just like, oh, sorry, too much. Need to process. Shutting down. Weird little things hit me at weird times, like coming back from the shower last night down the stairs and being like, Whoah. There's so many things made of great expanses of marble here. I'm not even making that up, like that thought actually occurred to me. Back to what we did yesterday, we climbed up all of the stairs to Eze, where

they actually have defibrillators (guess who had to look up the spelling for that) on the way up in case you can't handle all the stairs. It's a tiny medieval village on top of a hill, and it's really gorgeous and picturesque with a cactus garden and beautiful statues of mythical women. A lot of the kids from the Midwest were taking pictures with the cactuses all excited, and it was pretty amusing.

The drive from Eze back to Cannes was pretty glorious. This guy Steven, from Chapman, turns out to be a shockingly amazing singer, and my roommate Molly apparently suggested in passing he sing "She Will be Loved" by Maroon 5 to her on the bus, so he did, and our chaperone/AIFS person Aude gave him the bus loudspeaker microphone, so he serenaded us for like an hour, which was beautiful. He sang Beyond the Sea and Bohemian Rhapsody and several other things. Aude was just beside herself with joy and was like, "Sing La Vie en Rose!!" and it was just fabulous. We made it back in time for a classically terrible dinner from the cafeteria and then settled down and rested for a while before getting ready to go out.

Going out was the biggest clusterfuck ever, and I won't even go into how long it took to get ready/figure out who was coming and where we were going and then having to wait for everybody and their mom and then eventually leaving in like 3 taxis and it was a disaster of epic proportions, but basically Jenn, Karnig, Abriel, myself, and a girl named Emilie broke off from the group and after much screwing around finally made it to our original intended destination: the hottest club in Cannes -- Bâoli.

Now, Bâoli is where all the stars go during the festival, David Guetta DJ's there a lot, and for Cannes, it's a big deal, and very exclusive. They were turning away groups of girls when we got there, which was disconcerting, but I guess we were well-dressed and confident enough looking to get in. They don't charge a cover, at least not that early in the evening, and it was bumpin. At least for Cannes. It would have been a better overall experience if we weren't still pissed off from our frustrations earlier in the evening, very sober, and tired, but that being said it was still really cool, and we're determined to go back in a better mood and hopefully when it's less obscenely crowded. Or at least crowded with people who can dance better. We left relatively early, safely back to the College, and alas! Here we are.

Today in French I zoned out for a little while because our professor was deeply conversing with someone else (he was just chock full of folksy racism today and obnoxious questions about our love lives--in honor of San Valentin, of course, and it was beautiful). The French don't believe in political correctness and will basically talk to you about anything...the same sense of what's appropriate or not doesn't apply, so, for instance, he'll ask some kid, "What color were her eyes?" and the kid's like, "Uhhhh", and then our professor pretends to be looking at boobs with his eyes all popped out like a cartoon character and goes, "I'm sure she had really bigeyes." (All in French, of course) and we all just die of laughter. So that's what I deal with every morning...

I was thinking in class, whilst blissfully zoned out, about how one of the most prominent things I've noticed about Europe is how full of contradictions it is. In France, everything is made of marble, it is at once grand and compact and aged and modern. The air smells of smoke and grime and yet of the sea, and the language speaks of poetry while the men speak in whistles and hisses and catcalls and stare at you dirtily on the street. Everything gross from the ground looking up yet breathtakingly beautiful from up high...

Le Caveau 30 & Charly's and Whateverthefuckelse We Did Yesterday

(My roommates, Jenn and Molly, and myself at the restaurant)

The main event of yesterday was an excursion to a nice French restaurant called Le Caveau 30 organized by AIFS. We were all very excited about this, because the food in the cafeteria is usually rather disappointing and has been giving everyone subtle indigestion. Needless to say, we're in France, and it's time for some proper food.

I ordered the sea bass as my main dish. It was very good, and this might be the first time I've posted a picture of a meal on the internet unironically, so let's appreciate this moment.

After dinner, the majority of us split off from the group and stopped at a small bar called Charly's, which is basically a cave.

However the ambiance is fantastic and all of our pictures look like we were at some hoppin club and not a tiny bar in Cannes cramming people in on top of each other, so I have to give it a lot of credit for that. It was terribly fun, and I got an expensive blue cocktail and left reeking of the cigarette smoke, and that was that.

(Abriel, myself, and Jenn, shortly after explaining how bad we are at being photographed. I really love this picture though.)

Last night was the first time I've been out since we got to Cannes, and it was definitely worthy of the experience. My roommates and I aren't particularly like go hard every night all day erry day people, much more like go hard certain nights and look fierce while you do it people. Or just...genuinely do things to enjoy yourself people. Which is a good place to be.

More fun things I can tell you about today are A) The large group of Japanese kids that dress like anime characters and giggle behind their hands and make origami at dinner and are every stereotype imaginable and SO ADORABLE that have recently begun attending the College, and B) That apparently the College is haunted. Jean-Phillipe (who is not French and is in fact a Filipino kid from LA, which I realize could be misleading) told Jenn that this used to be a hospital for children with tuberculosis. Jenn extrapolated from that that the College is haunted, which we were debating the facts of. Today she asked her teacher, who told her that the College WAS in fact a hospital and IS in fact haunted. Apparently a lot of people on the 3rd floor heard a little girl screaming last night (my thoughts on this were that it was a drunk bitch and not a ghost child, but I couldn't say for certain) and the teacher said there is a ghost woman who floats above the chapel at night, which a lot of people that have lived on the 3rd floor have reported seeing. She's supposedly a nice ghost though with good energy. That doesn't mean it's not SCARY AS FUCK though. It wasn't scary this morning when we were talking about it, but as it's getting dark, not gonna lie, I'm a little un-at-ease. If you don't know this about me, basically I choose not to believe in ghosts because I think it'd be the SCARIEST SHIT EVER IF IT WERE REAL. Except I kind of do think they're real. And would rather not think about it. Ughhhh.

Studying abroad is really hard. The ghosts don't help, but that's not the point. It's really hard but has moments of being exquisite. I write this blog to be funny and primarily share with you highlights of my experiences, because no one (including myself) wants to read about how fucking lonely it is a lot of the time and how scared and trapped and frustrated you feel occasionally. My roommates and I have talked about this a lot, and it's becoming clearer, as we sort of move into the second week, that everyone has been having a rough time of it. I mean, we moved to a foreign country for 4 months, away from our families, friends, schools, lives...it's easy to look at this from the outside and be like Oh! The south of France! How blissfully majestic that must be all of the time! But truthfully, while it is often majestic, it doesn't lessen how hard it is to make this adjustment. They tell you about that at all the meetings, but you don't really understand until you live it. You have to understand this isn't about being ungrateful or unappreciative, because we all appreciate everything here, it's just that...this isn't a vacation. We're not in Kansas anymore. There are some great ups and there are some really bad downs, especially at the start. You have friends, but it's a constant state of getting to know people. We do some great things, and it has beautiful moments of being really fun, but know that it's well...still life. Just somewhere else. It's all a process and I'll definitely be talking about this more as it develops.

We're going to Monaco all day tomorrow. Everyone has their panties in a twist because it might rain and we have to bring pack lunches from the cafeteria. And our school is haunted.

Like I said. Studying abroad is hard. ;)

"This piece is called shots on shots on shots."

Yesterday I was depressed and jet lagged and slept all day, which is why there wasn't a post. Also, we didn't do anything, except get our French classes assigned (first level of Intermediate, yeahhh yeahhh!!) and get a lecture from the staff of the College about how, just in case you forgot, DO NOT WALK THROUGH LE SUQUET AT NIGHT BECAUSE YOU WILL GET RAPED AND KILLED. Later in the evening I skyped with my family (and also Mel) which was wonderful, and bought my plane tickets to visit her in Glasgow at the end of February while a lot of the Cannes people are in Florence. I opted out of Florence because A) It was very expensive, B) They're doing the same things we did whilst there on Eurotour (So much love always for Eurotour.), and C) I could use that time/money to go somewhere new! So I am returning to the land of my ancestors at the end of February, and it'll be fabulous. Later that evening I watched the Noah's Arc movie with my roommate Jenn and our friend Karnig. In case you didn't know what Noah's Arc we're referring to, and why it's spelled wrong, I will tell you. It's not the biblical version. To quote Karnig, "It's worse than a soap opera. It's a gay black soap opera from the 90's."

Most of the College went out to this pub to celebrate this girl's birthday, but we were tired and angsty and this is what we did instead, and I just want you to know that it was glorious.

Another thing that's glorious that you need to know about is a picture that's going around on Facebook that was taken today at a museum we went to (I'll get to that shortly) of a bunch of girls with Alex Grannis, who goes to Chapman, and if you read this and go to Chapman you probably know him. Now I guess the thing about Alex is that if he's wearing sunglasses (and from kind of far away) he could potentially look like Ryan Gosling. Or at least he did the way he was dressed today. So this girl posted a picture on Facebook of him (tagged as "ryan gosling") and was like OMG WE MET RYAN GOSLING!!!! and all her friends from home are like NO WAY YOU BITCH I'M SO JEALOUS WHY WAS HE IN CANNES!!?! and everyone from AIFS is egging it on and being like "Where was he??? Oh my God!!! WTF??" and all of this girl's friends believe it's actually him and are trippin about it, and like I said, it is glorious.

Anyway, what we actually did today after class was go on a field trip to the Museum de la Castre, which is an old monastery on a hill in Cannes that has a small collection of ancient art and ancient musical instruments, with a high tower that one can see all of Cannes from the top of. Now, once again, sometimes these things--while cool--have limited appeal, and then you have to make them more interesting. A smaller group of us ended up taking way longer to get through the museum, and it is here that I present to you: Noted Historians Nick Thompson, Amanda Beals, and Rachel Harris Present the Musee de la Castre.

"What's that?" "It's a weird doll. I have several in my own likeness in my backyard.

They have all my moods and one for every day...like Monday Statue is all pensive..."

"What's that?" "It's a road. For tiny little people."

"They invented lacrosse. And also backscratchers."

"Oh look at that ancient map!"

"It's Squidward's skull."

"This is clearly just 69."

"It would really suck if you had to like...be a monk and live here." 'Yeah...it'd be....cold..."

"This is cracked open, it's clearly a Raiders of the Lost Ark thing..."

"This piece is called shots on shots on shots."

We are so cool...

Eventually we fucking made it to the tower. Which was pretty impressive, given the amount of time it took to realize what virtually every object in the museum was. By which I mean make up elaborate stories. But whatever. Comme si comme ça.

We climbed up to the top (which was a bit vertigo inducing...why am I suddenly afraid of heights now that I'm almost 20?) And the view from the tower is absolutely the most exquisite thing I have seen in a really long time. You look out and it just smacks you in the face. For the first time since we've arrived I felt like I was really, you know...here.

This is Cannes.

"Straight-up breathtaking" is not a very poetic turn of phrase, but that's entirely what it was.

These are the infamous vertigo-inducing stairs. Ughh.

And the tower itself from the bottom!

After our tour of the museum I went shopping on Rue d'Antibes with Jenn and Karnig. We mostly just went around and browsed through all the stores--everything is on sale, I'm dying--but didn't manage to buy anything. It was quite fun though, and I want to say trop fun, but I won't. (My French teacher was bitching about how French teenagers are basically using the word "trop" like we use hella, and now of course I've started doing that.)

As always, more tales to follow.