Where is Mark?

photo courtesy of: http://www.clic-studio.com/var/ezwebin_site/storage/images/community/lyon-pictures/lyon-river/706-1-fre-FR/Lyon-River_imagelarge.jpg

Speaking of which--this french pop thing I just really don't get. LIke, they are just now listening to Natasha Bedingfield's "These Words?" At least they know who Kanye is...at least...

So my parents arrived Saturday, and just as expected, they stress me out to the extreme--my dad never makes plans, and I like plans, so I guess our views on appropriate vacation time-spendature-idge is just diff. Never the less, it's great to have Jim, D, and Audy here. They look very un-American and I couldn't be more proud. We had a great dinner Saturday night in the Roman part of town called Vieux Lyon--the typical style of eating/food/dinner-restaur

ant assemblage is called "bouchon" and the restaurant we went to specialized in it. I wasn't too hungry, so I just had a big salad with smoke duck procuitto--the verdict is still out. But the rest of the gang had the prix fix, complete with melted chevre, pommes de terre au gratin, and praline tartes--Superbe!

Sunday was French Mother's Day so we went to my "house" for linner (my word for lunch that starts at two and ends at six and requires three bottles of wine) and Dad and Diane, I could tell, were impressed, humbled, and a little jealous. We laughed as we tried to translate french to english and back again. Jose and my father settled on Spanish--even though both can only really say ''un poquito.''

Class tomorrow and meeting up with the fam at 3pm. I hope to get a little shopping in--there was a dress at zara that I eyed the other day (very French--boat neck, white with thin navy horizontal stripes) and another good meal. You know, Lyon is the gastronomic capital of France? Have you heard of Paul Bocuse? I hadn't 'til I came here--wiki that shit.

It's so weird--on this trip, I feel like not in France at all. I kinda just feel like I'm about to see a familiar face any moment, but it never happens. I kinda like it, and at the same time, it's challenging my ability to both adapt to one place and leave the other behind. Perhaps I'm changing the boundaries of my comfort zone.

Oh, and I took you up on the Otis Redding challenge. My god, the man is vocal sex, love, mystery, fatigue, weary heart and mind and soul--like a coffee table book that makes me feel good just looking at it. Send me anymore suggestions you have.

Limewire just so happens to work in France as well.

really awesome pic of N.B. courtesy of:http://musicremedy.com/webfiles/artists/NatashaBedingfield/Natasha_Bedingfield-17-big.jpg

One Week Ago Today I was...

Um, drinking in my basement, I think?

OMG, i'm picturing you and the burly man at Graceland--like two batty grandparents who seem to have forgotten who Elvis was (NO IS--HE'S STILL ALIVE).

Ok so remember when we were in Neice (jkjklol) and there were those kids from Minnesota with frizzy hair and pale skin and braces (because, ew, who has braces after Junior year?) and there was that boy who we had all hoped would be super super hot and he was super NOT? Well I feel like that's about every kid on this trip.

Except there are about two that I can stand, in fact, adore. They're fabulous and i find them to be genuinely unique and interesting people. Today I went to the parc de la tete d'or and much to my dismay, there was no big golden head. Just a lot of nursery kids with their tattooed and smoking nannies. What's up with that? Get 'em hooked early, i spose.

I made my first real purchase today after the Parc which was a Longchamp bag and it's currently sitting at the end of my bed. I occasionally glance up from my computer screen to admire it. Ahhhhhhhh...

Dad and Audy and Diane come on Saturday. A little nervous for them, but also excited. Have a few other weekend sejours planned--Paris at the beginning of July. Tell me how Maine is/was. And how are the girls? (I mean like Maya, Elle, your sis...not your boobs, dumbass.)

bisous,
a

Ma petite chou

it was an uneventful plane ride. i was terribly gassy though, and the plane was bound for Mumbai, thus all these elder women dressed in saris and sandals kept smelling me and (i think) giving me strange looks. I watched "The Reader" and it changed my life--please see it if you haven't already.

i arrived with ease, found the two girls i was to meet, and we took a taxi (60 effing euros!) to the University where I met my "mohzzair." Her name is Catherine and is about as big as my little finger. So so sweet though. She is an architect. The dad Jose is Portuguese and moved to france when he was nine. He doesn't work, but used to work in hotels as a maitre and in the restaurants, where he once served Gorbachev! I know, right?! My sister is named Eulalie (pronounced eu-la-lee) and she just turned twenty-one and currently doesn't go to school, but used to for biology and she is wonderful and her friends--omg the hottest french girls i've ever seen. The brother is named Jean-Hughes; he is 26? and lives in Annecy and does computer work--dresses sooo dorky--you know, like dorky european? ugh, it's the worst.

One night, I met a co-worker of Catherine's, as he came over for appertifs/dinner, and he said "Oh you mean all the cars in America are automatic? It's genius that is!" I also visited Catherine's parents for Sunday lunch and Jose's after that. They both live in the Bourgogne region near Macon, which is a very quaint mid-sized town.

Perhaps one of the greatest reliefs so far has been Eulalie's boyfriend named Sean. He currently lives with close family friends (think Penningtons-McBrooms) at the cause of his mother's passing, and his father not being in "za peekchure." I am sure there are more details to this story that were, how do you say, lost in translation. Anyways, so this is how Sean and Eulalie met. He is from south london, and lemme tell you, he is a hoot an' a holler for sure! He says shit like sick and has tattoos but also drinks tea at every occasion and refuses to accept that American breakfasts are anything like "proper English breakfasts" (even though they are the exact same effing thing). Basically, he is a God-send because he (a) speaks English and (b) his crazy Brittanic ways never fail to make me laugh, or at the very least, miss being drunk and talking in british accents. Or just talking in british accents with all you gals back home.

Speaking of which, I am not homesick at all and I mean that in the best way possible. Things so far are so very good.