"The Battle of Gettysburg... the third day... Pickett's charge! And the air hung heavily... with the acrid smell of gunpowder... and the stench... of the dead... " - Heart and Souls (amazing movie. go rent it if you've never seen it)
I kid, I kid. It’s my second day here in St Brieuc, and I love it. It’s exactly how you would picture any small French town: narrow, winding roads; small houses with clothes lines out back; a downtown area crawling with bakeries and Starbucks.
it haunts you wherever you go.
My journey here was pretty epic, but only because it was all 5’4’’ of me, two GIANT suitcases, my timbuk2 bag filled to the brim, my Arsenal scarf, and a look somewhere between amusement and terror permanently on my face. Oh yeah, and I was wearing my Frye boots cause, as Gracie taught me, always wear the heaviest pair of shoes you’re bringing.
that, and I was wearing lululemon stretch pants. So yeah, woof.
I slept for about 30 minutes total on the plane, due to the fact that I was really excited, hyped-up on diet coke, and oh yeah, I’M TERRIFIED OF FLYING. There was awful turbulence for 3/4 of the flight, so while I had the row to myself (very comfy), I spent most of the flight clutching the seat in front of me, downing Diet Coke, and praying. Also, Monsters vs. Aliens was on, and who could resist watching that?
Reese Witherspoon, Seth Rogen, Will Arnett, and Hugh Laurie. In this. #hollywoodfail
OH YEAH! The hottest French man I have ever laid eyes on was sitting next to me. As fate would have it, our flight was less than 1/2 full, so five minutes into the flight he moved to his own row. I don’t blame him, but COME ON! Maybe if I had been wearing something slightly more attractive than an old white v-neck Hanes tee he would’ve stayed. Alas, the hottie from Bordeaux escaped my clutches.
The train trip following the flight was just long. Nothing too exciting there, except that I was lugging all of my shit (about 110+ pounds) in and out of trains, much to the chagrin of the other train riders. Whatevs, I’m American and I do what I want. Obvi. Totes. Delish.
After I arrived at St Brieuc, my host mother Josiane took me to the school where I’ll be teaching because she had a meeting and thought it would be a good idea for me to see the lycee. Unfortunately for me, I had, at that point, not slept in the past 26 hours. I was literally seeing stars. I met a whole bunch of teachers who I don’t remember, almost had an anxiety attack sitting in a chair trying to wrap my mind around the next three months, and then decided that I should probably put off freaking out until I had slept for a little while. Good plan, captain!
Reading my blog increases one's useless knowledge by 65%
Everyone here calls me Carolin. It’s fun. It’s like a whole new personality...one that is essentially the same personality as Katie but like, more exotic. Or something. Even across an ocean, I’m still awkward.
Today we went on a really long walk around the bay of St Brieuc. It was really pretty, but of course I forgot to bring my camera, so none of you will ever experience it.
Unless you do a google image search.
Sundays here, it seems, are solely for spending time with family, eating, and going for walks. I like it. I also decided that I want to make a coffee-table-book with pictures of babies in baby-bjorn type things, cause they always have the most amazing expressions on their faces. Especially in cold weather, cause then their cuteness doubles due to silly hats.
You steal my idea, I steal your soul.
I just watched my first Handball match, France against Germany. It seems like dodgeball, except you run around more and you try to score a goal. So really, it’s like dodgeball only in that you play with a ball roughly the same size and shape. OK, maybe it’s more like soccer, except it breaks the most important rule of soccer and people use their hands to carry the ball around the court. So, it’s not much like soccer either. I don't know what I'm talking about. I feel like Livi trying to explain Whirly-ball to me.
The German handball team = hot. Check out the 'stache on the coach, all the way to the right. Pure. Sex.
I’m nervous for my first day of teaching tomorrow, especially since the students I’m going to be working with are, for the most part, going to be between the ages of 18-20. So, I’m barely older than these kids and I’m supposed to be in charge of imparting important English-type knowledge to them. We’ll see how that goes...
OK, well, time for me to continue watching the Australian Open and contemplating tomorrow’s lesson plan. I’m thinking it’ll be something along the lines of: what up, English is easy, let’s watch Buffy.
Obviously a viable teaching tool.
Currently listening to: Australian Open commentary in French discussing the match between Roddick and Gonzales (I’ve come to the conclusion that Andy Roddick isn’t that good, but the fact that he’s married to Brooklyn Decker probably makes up for that in his head. Cause let’s be honest, she’s hot. Also, Andy Murray is better and hotter than Andy Roddick. In the battles of the Andy’s, Murray is by and far the winner. Marry me.).
Currently reading: Madame Bovary (en Francais, bien sur) by Gustav Flaubert
Currently craving: Chocolate. Not sure why. But I want some. NOW.
yeah, that.
Peace, Love, and Cocoa.
- Blowfish
