God Save the Queen.

London, baby!

Got to London on Saturday and have been absolutely loving everything about this place... Knew it would be good from the moment I got off the train and was positive when I ate my delicious beer battered cod with chips soaked in vinegar. From beautiful Big Ben to hearing English, beautiful beautiful English, I'm having the best time. I'm being very touristy, but I really don't mind. It's so much more fun this way.

Had a special moment at the Cabinet War Rooms today while listening to an original speech given by Churchill. I'm just crazy about him. It was so moving to hear his voice and see his room. 

Then I spent the afternoon exploring and falling in love with Covent Garden. A robot man street performer kissed my hand today, I had a delightful hot chocolate with my long lost cousin Natasa and then went to Piccadilly for steak with Mimi. One successful day.

I am French now.

Yesterday a colleague I know and like kissed me hello. She is a wonderful woman who has really made me feel welcome. Today, I was the first to come into the staffroom (I'm not really a lingerer so this is usually the case). Three people kissed me hello. Two of whom I do not know. They are all really nice, though, and I guess this means they are accepting me as one of their own.

Also, I finished my shower today before the hot water had turned lukewarm had turned freezing. This either means that I am Super Woman and can now do all things at the speed of light or that I am not really completely clean. When in France...

Back in the freezing staffroom. I think there is some sort of meeting going on. Every so often everyone speaks at the same time and all that I can make out of it is çaaaa çaaa çe ça çe ççççççç (basically a lot of ssss noises).


I really need to shave my legs.

Things are looking up...

In the staff room again, hating French keyboards. But things are getting better. I'm finding my place here, but I'm pretty much certain that I can never live in a country that is not the US for too long (read: longer than a year or two). The main reason is probably the bathrooms. Bathrooms in this country are ridiculous. They are simply converted closets that now serve as restrooms. But, other than my intense need for a very very long burning hot shower, I'm finding my panic receding. I'm starting to enjoy myself, and I'm honestly laughing at some of the things that happen here.

Last week I fell down the stairs. A more accurate description might be that I slid painfully down half a flight of stairs. These stairs are definitely a death trap. Sarah, my October roommate and new best friend (tomorrow is our 2 week anniversary--we've taken to celebrating this event), warned me that the stairs were a death trap. Her apartment is in a "historical" building. This means that the first flight of stairs slant sideways, reminiscent of Pisa's archiecture. The next flight not only slant, but are also curved and rounded. Those who know how very graceful I am know that I, of course, assified myself on these stairs. As soon as I either locate or get a new USB cord, I will add pictures of these ridiculous stairs.

I now hold the railing for dear life.

Space and the lack thereof...

I think I might have been accepted by the other teachers here as a colleague rather than a student who lost her way and somehow ended up in the staffroom. Since a number of the students are also 22 years old, I understand why my presence might be misunderstood.

Today one of the teachers (disclaimer: a teacher whose name I do not know) kissed me hello. She spoke to me in English to put me at ease and then leaned in to kiss me hello, which of course was totally weird to me. So, I awkwardly returned the kiss. Outside of my Greek self, I have no idea how to kiss people hello. Especially not in the workplace.

I'm currently writing in Starbucks because the internet (which is wonderful and free) at McDonald's was not working. It costs 4 whole euros for only one hour of internet here. And now an obnoxious French person just came to my tiny table and placed her giant mug of hot coffee right by my computer. Now, my table is by no means the only available table. I quickly snapped up my computer and put it in my lap. Argh.

My Ancestors, the Puritans

I can see them now. As they step off the stinky, cramped ships... and see America for the very first time.  They must have thought to themselves, "Holy crap! Look at all this SPACE!!"  

As Americans, everything of ours needs to be bigger and better.  And you know what?  Good. I used to think the Mini Cooper was my favorite car.  But maybe I'll get a Hummer when I come home.  Don't get me wrong... There isn't any scenario in which I could actually afford a Hummer, and they really are just awful for the environment. But, hey. I could totally live in a Hummer. And a Hummer even takes you places.  If the trunk was a bathroom... done deal.  Hummers are way bigger than French apartments. So, vroom vroom.  I came to France a liberal hippy dippy, and I'm afraid I'll be returning home a hardcore, big fat obnoxious American.  Maybe I'll look into a bandana that is also an American flag.  I think that would fit my current state of mind.  And maybe a rifle.  Especially as the French seem to be under this impression that we're these violent gun-slinging gangsters.

My first day at my school I learned that one of the major components of the English curriculum (which is, by the way, taught in French. Really.) is "Guns and Violence." This is, of course, in reference to our fabulous country. I found it difficult to explain that not only do I not have a gun, but I don't really know anyone else who does either. 

Anyway, I'm missing home, AKA my gangster's paradise. Peace.