Cheese, Pastries and Children: My Year in France: family

Showing posts with label family. Show all posts

Monday, March 30, 2015

One day you’ll leave this world behind, so live a life you will remember. These are the nights that never die.

I want to preface this post with the following...
1. Anyone who knows me and is reading this knows that I would go through hell to move heaven and earth for the people I love. That's just a fact.
2. I am an extremely private person and there might be two people in the entire world that know everything about me and that I would go to with anything.
3. I was told that I am closed off and hot and cold and SO private that it makes me a difficult person to talk to or comfort or reach out to. And thus part of the motivation for this post.

I have thought long and hard about whether or not to write this. This blog is about my life in France. Well the sad part is that when I really thought about it these things are just that; my life in France. I have wanted to live in another country for a long time. I had always regretted not studying abroad in college and when a friend of mine decided to be an au pair I figured what a great way to see the world. Well I never followed her lead. I never did a lot of things because my life was on a different trajectory and I gave up a lot of my dreams and made a lot of sacrifices. Do I wish my magic crystal ball was working at the time and let me see into the future every time I gave up something? Hell fucking yes I do. Does it matter now? Nope. So I file it all away in some chapter of my life and move on.

I have wondered when the time will come that I will forget certain things in life. Being dumped after 6 and a half years with a guy is definitely one of those times. Recently several things have happened and conversations have taken place that make me feel like I need to say something. Now that we know all the reasons why I am even bothering to write this we might as well get on with it. I should say some names and places have been changed to protect the identities of those involved.

I met Steve when I was 20 years old. I had just gotten out of something messy and so did he so neither of us wanted to seriously date anyone which was fine. We had fun hanging out, eating together and watching movies. Normal stuff. Eventually that turned into something more and we dated. We dated for a long time. Longer than some people are married. During that time we went through a lot of things. Jobs, death, reaching goals, traveling; I mean after that long you pretty much go through it all. You make a lot of memories, you meet a lot of people, you make a life together and that is exactly what had happened.

After we graduated college we stuck around our college town, neither of us wanting to leave each other and so we took jobs and worked and lived and eventually he went back to school. After some point Steve realized what he wanted to do in life and I still hadn’t reached that point. (Believe it or not knowing what I want to do did not come for me until I moved to France and really had time to evaluate my life and my goals and what I wanted.) With that being said, I started to give up a lot of things so that Steve could achieve his goals. I am not saying this because I want pity or I am looking for people to feel sorry for me. I made the decisions I made and I am where I am in life. But I moved, lived places I didn’t want to, I stayed in long distance relationships, I traveled to be supportive, I wrote letters, I made phone calls, I drove A LOT, I spent my weekends with him, I traveled to spend time with his friends. (A good portion of our relationship was at a distance, even in the beginning because his family was living in Australia. We had overcome an 11 hour time difference in the beginning of things when it was still new and fresh and we were still getting to know each other and trust each other.) I did everything I could because I figured if I had no idea what I wanted out of life, I could at least give my support and attention to the guy I loved and his dreams. It made a lot of sense at the time and really, it still makes sense to me now. I probably would think about things differently if I had to make those decisions again, but at that time, it was the right decision to make.

Steve very suddenly and out of the blue broke up with a week after my birthday. Now, I don’t really like my birthday, it’s not a HUGE deal to me but Steve went out of his way to make it special in several different ways. All the more reason I was in complete shock. I ran a lot of things through my mind and one of them was that there was someone else. At this point we had been doing a long distance thing for like two years or something ridiculous. Nearly every weekend I went to see Steve and I drove the two hours to the town where he lived to see him. Sometimes he came to see me, but because of his work it was better for me to go there. So every Friday I would pack up my dogs and my bags and drive two hours to his house. Again, I am not complaining. Steve was chasing his dreams and I was being as supportive as possible given our situation. I wanted him to be happy and I was just happy being with him. Anyway, I specifically asked Steve if there was someone else and I gave him the opportunity to come clean. After 6.5 years I figured I deserved the truth. Steve denied the fact and just gave me a reason. (as it turns out, I would later find out that Steve gave different reasons to other people as to why we broke up and they were never consistent reasons…) Well, I figured this was it, I was absolutely devastated and I had no idea what I was going to do. I didn’t cry on the phone when he ended things. On the phone, after 6.5 years…let that sink in. I waited till we were done then I lost my shit. I admit it. I completely and utterly lost it. My sister ended up coming to stay with me for a few weeks because I had no idea what the fuck was going on with my life. This guy I thought I would marry and have kids with dumped me out of the blue, I was living in a town I hated to be close to him, and I was working a job that was totally irrelevant to my skill set because I was close to him and trying to have a life. I decided to try and handle this as gracefully as I could. And I did. The only thing I demanded from Steve was to attend a wedding with me the following weekend. We had already RSVPd and I had no desire to show up without a date and try to explain to my friends why he wasn’t there. So, I said I would pay for everything if he would just go with me. And he did.

Well I had a week to think about things and just get my thoughts together before the wedding. That entire week Steve texted me every day, which only made my life harder. And I answered as cordially as possible and just kept on with the week. I had decided that I would give a speech, one last effort and say what I wanted to say and make sure that he knew that being apart wasn’t what I wanted. In the past in our relationship Steve had given these speeches about staying together because we would hit a rough patches and I wanted to break things off. Steve was so adamant about how we could work, that I always stayed. I figured it was up to me to do that this time. It was nearly pathetic but I didn’t want to break up, not at all and I wanted an honest reason as to why he was doing it. I gave my speech, he said no. I asked again about someone else and he said no.

A few weeks before all this, I had flown out to LA for a job interview and I found out after the wedding that they were offering me the job. Well it was sink or swim time. I needed to decide if I was going to take the job. For whatever reason, I had gotten on the au pair website my friend had previously recommended. So while all this bullshit was going on I was interviewing to leave the country. Oh yea, I started doing that. I was so upset and I had no idea how to start my life over, at least that was how it felt so I figured, why the fuck not! Let’s move to another country where you don’t speak the language and move in with complete strangers. Think about that. I was hurting. Bad. So I turned down the offer in LA and I found a family and decided to move to France.

As it turned out, and I wouldn’t learn about this till a few weeks after the wedding, Steve called all of our mutual friends and told them what happened. By the time I found out I was so shocked by this that I let it go without confronting Steve or even our friends. Steve however, did not bother to tell his family. So I had several conversations with his mother about how she couldn’t wait to see us and see their new home in Montana and spend time with them and how much she loved and missed me. Having those conversations 3 days after have your heart ripped out is literally the worst. (It doesn’t help that i didn't only lose Steve but I lost people who were nearly family, his family. People I had become close to, people who had shared major life events with me, all gone, with zero contact) Plenty of people asked why I didn’t just tell Steve’s mom. Well, I wasn’t going to be the one that outted him, it wasn’t my business to tell. But, Steve sure as shit let all our friends know. I have wondered lately if this was done on purpose…

Speaking of my friends. I told about three people about the breakup. None of those people were mutual friends. I wasn’t about to make something awkward with our mutual friends. At the same time, a good majority of our mutual friends knew, thanks to Steve, and no one said a word to me. Not a word. So not only had I decided to take my broken heart and move my ass to France but I felt really alone. I knew people knew and some of those people I would lay my life on the line for. I didn’t tell anyone I was moving to France so I guess that was some payback. I told my family, and I told some close friends, I had a party and I left.

About a month after the breakup I was informed by an anonymous source that Steve had a girlfriend, let’s call her Felicia. Now, I have my suspicions and information and it is hard for me to believe he didn’t cheat on me. And honestly, make you own judgments, gather your own facts. I never said a word to Steve about this. It was the day before I was leaving for France and I got this metaphorical punch to the face. If I could put into words how I felt, I would. I was in shock. It was hard to believe, to imagine, especially after Steve was the one that was crying when we last said good bye. Steve is the one that “wanted to be friends”. You would think after all that time together…anyway, I was speechless. And the way I had received the information was icing on the chocolate cake which is my life. I cut myself off from social media and a hell of a lot of other things after this. I didn’t want to field questions or see anything. I just didn’t. I wanted to do what I had to do to leave the country and get the fuck out.

At some point Steve un-friended me on Facebook…ooooh no he didn’t…and other weird things were happening to me on social media. I didn’t totally get it because we were supposed to be “friends” and I had no contact with him. At all. Literally none. I don’t even know how I found out or why but I did. This kind of hurt, in a weird way. It was a few months after we had broken up and even a few months after he started dating Felicia. I wasn’t trying to ruin them or break them up and I certainly wasn’t harassing them in anyway. I am not sure why I was so bothered, it’s social media for god sake, but it felt personal and it felt like I was doing something wrong and getting in trouble for it. I haven’t done anything wrong since I haven’t done a damn thing.

Because I know Steve really well, maybe better than he knows himself, when he started dating this new girl, I said to my friends, he is going to marry her. From the beginning. Well fast forward about seven-eight months and that, in fact, is happening. Again, this information came to me in a really wonderful way. I hadn’t thought about Steve or Felicia in a really long time. My life was working here and working well. After this metaphorical spit to the face I was again speechless. But what do you do? Just because you can’t personally imagine getting engaged a minute after getting out a 6.5 year relationship doesn’t mean that is how others think. Again, the emotions and feelings all came back and it takes time to process them and figure out what to do even though it doesn’t actually concern you. As usual I kept my mouth shut and went on with my life and honestly, I had been expecting this from the beginning. Whatever Steve’s reasons for proposing are, they are his own. I hope life doesn’t get too complicated and things work out for them. I can’t imagine how life would stay uncomplicated at this point but hopefully it works. Even shitty people deserve happiness.

I am a very opinionated person most of the time but at the same time I pride myself on being extremely open minded. I don’t know if I ever want to get married and god knows someone couldn’t make me get married for ANY reason except love. Love and understanding and commitment. I take marriage seriously and maybe that is why I never pushed marriage with Steve, who knows. But I also hope that Steve doesn’t have to miss out on his dreams. He worked really hard to get to where he is and he was so passionate about what he wanted. It is one of the things I loved about him. I hope that he is able to continue on the same path and get the things he wanted and worked so hard for. God knows it came at a cost to others. But hopefully he is making decisions that will still allow him to reach his goals.

I really have tried to handle the break up and all the bullshit that seemed to come after gracefully. It has been one of the hardest things in the world, but I have been trying. Since the wedding, I have had NO contact with Steve. None of any kind at all. Even after each of these things has happened I kept my mouth shut. I didn’t and don’t want to be that girl. I want to move on. I want to be a better person. I want to look back and be proud of who I was in this, but part of me feels like I am still involved in something I am not and never actually was involved in. Things happen that make me say…what?! And I can’t figure it out.

Since moving to France and having the experience with Steve, I have changed. I have changed a lot. If I didn’t, what would be the point? Steve left for some reason, whatever that was, and I knew I wasn’t my best self. This isn’t about bashing Steve for our relationship. I just want it known that I am moving on. I don’t ask our friends questions about Steve, ever. Even when they bring it up. Ask them. It hasn’t happened and it won’t. God knows Steve doesn’t have to ask our friends about me since I keep putting my life all over the internet. I am happy here. I am happy in my life. I have some amazing opportunities and I can’t live in the past or I will never move forward. Steve isn’t my future anymore…my future is wide open.

Before I met Steve I had what I like to call and edge. At some point in 6.5 years I kind of lost it. Since moving here, I found it again. I think that is partly because of the French people as a whole; they are amazing and confident and almost arrogant but that’s how life is here. I started losing weight without trying, I found something to do that I love and I got to really think about who I am and what I want and who and what I want to be. When I went home for vacation people said they didn’t even recognize me and if you talk to my now and spend any time with me my entire outlook on things is different. I am so thankful for this opportunity and I live a charmed life. I might have scars but I live a very charmed life. I won’t sit here and pretend like I don’t get sad sometimes and that sometimes that sadness isn’t caused by Steve or memories of us and our life because I’d be lying. But there is the difference, I am moving on. I might be sad for a long time specially when it comes to certain memories but I AM MOVING ON. I am happy, I am in shape, I get to eat amazing food, I constantly get to have priceless experiences, I know what I want to do with my life now and I have had several big and interesting job opportunities present themselves. I can’t live in the past. I can’t dwell on the past. I have a now and I have a future.

I have tried to be incredibly mature about this entire thing even when I have been so mad or so upset that I didn’t want to be. All the times I might have wanted to shout and scream and cuss someone out. But again, I am moving on. Like I said before, I don’t talk to our mutual friends about Steve, and when they bring it up I say that I have nothing to say. I don’t want any of our friends to be in weird situations or positions and I would never ask them to pick sides. That would be really fucked up. I don’t really tell them my feelings on the things that have happened and I stick to my guns on it. Even really close mutual friends. It wouldn’t be fair. I barely keep in touch with most people since I have been here. I reach out when I need to or when good things happen. I am not out searching for information on Steve because I just don’t really care. I never thought this is where I would be in life but it is. And I might as well embrace it and see where it takes me. I wanted to travel and share the experiences I am having with someone special, who wouldn’t want to, but I have learned so much about myself and the world that I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

Again, good luck to Steve and Felicia. I have nothing holding me back. I am not out searching for information on the two of you and I am not going to be the one to put our friends in a shitty situation. I refuse. Life is hard sometimes and things might cold cock you in the face but hey, what doesn’t kill you make you stronger right? Or insert whatever other cliché you think is relevant. I have the best friends in the entire world and I wouldn’t be here without them. I wouldn’t be thinner and a sort of runner, into new things or most importantly, brave and different without getting my ass dumped. Life is beautiful and I am going to live it as best I can because I had put living, really living, on pause for a while.

Title quote: This is from an Avicii song called Nights. Listen to it here

Friday, March 13, 2015

Today, live like you wanna, let yesterday burn and throw it in a fire, live like a warrior

I must start out by saying sorry. Sorry I do not post enough blogs, I totally don’t. I actually have this one and two others in the works so hopefully March shall yield at least three blog posts! I have also been told I need to post more pictures on my social media of “French things” so, follow me on twitter or instagram @skay1621 to see pictures. Anyway, I wanted to write about my time at home. Although writing about home seems counter…productive? No but you get it, since my blog is supposed to be about m experience in France. But really, I guess it is supposed to be about my life, and that just happens to be taking place mostly in France. Anyway, my time at home was lovely, #ivacationintheUS.

Ah, and because I love music, put on this new jam while you’re reading this. It’s great. Mumford and Sons "Believe"

I flew back home into Texas, and then into West Palm. Yea, I know this makes zero sense because I pass West Palm to get back to West Palm. It was such a long flight, the longest I have ever been on. Like 10 or 10 and half hours I think. I was super excited to get to Texas to drink. One, I drink way more than I use to cause it’s just a way of life here, but also to have American things. I had like three blue moons and was ready to pass the hell out by the time my flight finally left over five hours later.

I had a lot of things I had to do during my time home including seeing all my family, as much as possible, going wedding dress and bridesmaid dress shopping way out of town and throwing a baby shower. Although I was only home for two weeks it felt like I was home forever.

My first week was spent doing a lot of eating and a lot of party planning. I actually threw one of my most favorite events, the baby shower for my best and longest friend. But I will get back to that. The first day I surprised my sister and brother at breakfast, which was fantastic. They literally had no idea I was coming home and thanks to my social media posts I said I was going to Spain and Portugal. Which honestly I would have love to do…to have done? Whatever. We ate breakfast. I ate so much breakfast. Not just that day but in general. I love breakfast. It is my favorite along with seafood and burgers. Anyway, I went shopping after that.

So much shopping; I had a lot to do for the party and I had zero clothes that fit so I really needed some new pants and shirts. My dad had taken a whole bunch of time off because we were supposed to go on the boat. Oh yea. We have a new addition to our family. The 35 foot open fish with triple 250s; welcome to the family beautiful! Well, she was in the shop so that never happened. Which sucked…a lot. We did end up going to get her on some day that week but it had to be the coldest flipping day ever. I had so many layers on. Like maybe even more than winter in France. I put some pictures below.

At the end of the first week things got crazy. I had to drive to Jacksonville, 4 hours north of my house, to go wedding dress shopping with my lovely friends. I went Friday night so I could spend the night with family and get up early to go shopping on Saturday. I love my family. I knew what I was getting into going to their house that night and it did not disappoint. It included A LOT of drinking, tons of shit talking, life lessons, motorcycle talk and all around good times. It is always good when you know you have people that will back you probably no matter what and thankfully…people that would bail you outta jail should the need arise. And let’s be honest, that was a possibility.

The next morning I got up to go dress shopping. I slipped my ass into my new and awesome jumpsuit which I had ordered and it was waiting for me when I got home to America. I met up for lunch with my friends and we went wedding dress and bridesmaids dress shopping. Luckily we found bridesmaids dresses but sadly it would be some days later when my friend found her wedding dress. I will be flying home again for this wedding in June but returning to France after. I will have about three more weeks of work and then two weeks backpacking!!! I am so excited for my trip and for work to end and to get back to America and at the same time…it is quite sad to think about and maybe, in the end, my return won’t happen. Go big or go home, right? Except, I kind of am home…

That 24 hours was out of control. I did not get home till like midnight on Saturday and I had a party to throw the next day. My mother and my sister were vital in getting the party ready and together and I could not be more thankful for them. I am also so happy that I was able to do this for my friend. I know she will be right there with me should I ever have a child…doubtful…or more likely just get married. I put some pictures below of the party. They aren’t the best and honestly I didn’t even take any. I was so busy and my feet were killing me from rocking the same pair of 4 inch pattern leather Jessica Simpson peep toe pumps two days in a row. What we do to look good. On the topic of clothes, I also got to wear a lovely Michael Kors dress I had found earlier that week. He is by far one of my favorite purse and accessories designers and until I was home during that time I did not own many of his clothes. I was lucky enough to return to France with a whole new wardrobe which included about 75% MK stuff. Gotta love it.

The second week I saw a lot of friends and family and just relaxed. We took a long boat ride on the one day that was nice out. I was pretty busy again getting things together, giving away clothes, trying to make my parents family room look less hideous since half of my possessions currently reside in there. I of course did a ton of running since the following weekend when I returned was my half marathon. My first ever. Although running in hell…aka south Florida nearly killed me. One day I thought it was genius to run in the middle of the day, figuring I could handle it. Well me and my shorts and sports bra wanted to die. I had to call my mom to come get my fat ass because I might had just died.

I saw movies while I was home. Although I didn’t get to see all the ones I wanted. I saw 50 Shades of Grey, of course, Kingsmen and The Duff. I love movies. I go all the time and have been going to sometime. Now in France I started going but I do not get all the movies and there are French subtitles which, while they are great for learning are so irritating because it is all that I watch!!! Anyway. That was nice. And my dad took off more work that week so I got to spend a lot of time with just him and my mom. Little did I know of course that my mom and sister would end up coming to France not even two days after my return.

My flight home was canceled and I felt really bad about that because it kind of put my French family in a tough spot since I wouldn’t be getting home till Monday and I was supposed to work then. Saturday night when I was still in the US I spent it with my aunt and uncle and mom and dad drinking margaritas and eating Mexican food. It was pretty perfect. Especially when everyone got…happier. The food wasn’t so bad either and I got to take home cookies and bread to pack away in my suitcase and enjoy once I was back in France.

I realize how lucky I am to get to do the things that I do. And I try very hard to never forget that. I had a great two weeks at home and while I can’t wait to get back and be a part of everyone’s lives again, I do love France. I live in one of the most beautiful places in the world. But I am a water girl to the bone and living on the water and being on a boat is where I kind of belong. Or at least I belong closer to the opportunity.

The trials and tribulations of a fat, food lover trying to run:

Again I have no idea what I titled this before. I think this is close. I will briefly write about running in my first half marathon. It was amazing. I was shitting myself because I didn’t know what to expect and the longest I had ever run was 12.5 miles. The adrenaline that comes when you are walking around and seeing all the people is indescribable. This race had 43,500 people signed up. There were SO MANY PEOPLE. It left me speechless. It was also the hottest day in France since like September and it was cold the day before and the day after…of course. I was dying. Wearing infrared, cold gear leggings with knee high socks was not the best idea I have ever had. My mom and sister were there which was the best. Literally the best. And my French mom showed up after she dropped the rest of the family off in the city. I saw the rest of my family when I was running. They stood on the side of the road for me. It was hard, the race I mean. It is far more a mental game than a physical game. I think I have written before about how my runs are either when my head is the clearest or when I think about all the things that bother me most in the world. This time I literally was just counting down the kilometers. I had thought, wow I get to run through Paris, this will be beautiful. I barely saw a single site. I was just trying to focus and not die. My time was terrible and I will forever remember how terrible and I will want from now until I beat that time, to beat that time. Time is a big deal to me although I know it shouldn’t be. I know I am better than that, that’s why I bothers me so much. Anyway, I finished and I got a cool shirt and I got a medal and I have a great story to tell. I also burned some 1400 calories that day so that’s awesome. I can’t wait till Sunday so I can start running again. I bought some new shoes I am DYING to try out. I went from Nikes to Brooks, so I am pretty interested to see how this goes. I have signed up for the Nike Women’s run in Paris on June 7 and I am considering another half marathon Easter weekend. It is kind of crazy…I think I am addicted. I never in a million years would have thought I would be into running like this, but I have to say, even thought me and running and like in a love/hate situation I do love it. And hey, who doesn’t like shirts and medals?!

I still miss everyone a lot, maybe even more now that I was home for a minute. And I REALLY hate missing out on major things in everyone’s lives. As soon as I figure out exactly what I am going to do after this chapter I will let everyone know. Like I said in the beginning I actually have two other posts in the works and I will try really hard to get them out asap. I know I need to write more and I really will try. I don’t have a lot of time left here and I have a big mouth and a hell of a lot to say. Stay tuned because maybe I will get real crazy and write a real honest piece no one is expecting from me…until then…smile bitches, things could be worse…

Title quote: This came from a song by Matisyahu (click to listen) "Live like a warrior"

ET...aka Kahlua on the boat

Awesome sign in the metro in Paris

Pre race shitting my pants selfie!

Waiting to start

Giant ball rolling around at the start

Mid race, streets of Paris

Post race with my ma

Found my name on the GIANT banner

Post race with Medal!

Pre race. Kinda freaking.

Sign during packet pick-up

Getting my gear ready

MEE!!

Packet pick-up

Freezing my ass off on the boat

My sweet girl Kahlua

The beautiful addition to the family...

Reenacting the titanic scene...

happy days.

Family quality time

Little Oliver on a car ride

Bee clothes pins for "don't say baby"

Shower favors

New girl

Home

"MOM-osa bar"

Games and decor for my shower

Baby Shower

Baby shower

Baby Shower

"Wishes for Baby"

Baby Shower

Me and my Bro

Home

Chicken Fil A

Me and my amazing, beautiful and pregnant friend

Saturday, December 27, 2014

It's not what we have in life but who we have in our life that matters

So I promised to write more often, and I kinda sorta kept to that. I wrote a post back on December 9 but for some reason half of it was erased. Awesome. So I never posted. Cause I suck. Instead, I am going to write about what me and my mom have been doing as well as trying to incorporate what wasn’t lost from my December 9 writings.

There are two songs I have been in love with lately. One, a new Corey Smith song called Moving Pictures. Listen to it here. And the other is Paramore Last Hope. Listen here. I believe in music and art. It can change the world. These songs have treated me amazingly as of recent, seriously listen to them.

I also wanted to give a quick shout out to my friend, running coach, and cousin. I mentioned her blog in one of my last posts but I should have made a bigger deal out of it and even included a link. Read Psyched2run here. It is a great blog, she’s an amazing woman and friend and go exercise!!

I am pretty sure my family is curious about what my mom and I are up to. So I will give you the breakdown thus far. On Monday, I went to get her at the airport via train. I swear. So much complicated. Not only is the airport an hour from Paris, but I live about 50 minutes from Paris. This was my first time doing this train hopping situation. I am pretty good at the trains and metros now but good lord. I had to take my train, to the metro to another train. Because I was kind of pooping my pants and because I woke up at 5am that day I got on a second train that wasn’t exactly right. There is a non-stop train from Chatlet (which means nothing to you all) to the airport…well of course I did not get on that one. 150 million stops later I got to the airport. Then I got stuck. Apparently I needed a separate ticket from Paris to the airport. I am not sure why because its within the 5 zones (I won’t try to explain the crazy that is the French transit system) so I figured I needed the special ticket I had. Well, that’s not true. SO ANNOYING. And honestly, how the hell was I supposed to know?! Then I had to get through the airport, which is a nightmare. Ps, this sounds like a lot of complaining and it kind of is, but at 6am having only ingested a banana and already had 60 issues, this wasn’t exactly fun. C’est dommage.

I got my mom!!! Then we had the bullshit of getting back home which was just that. I actually literally shit my pants on the train because we were running late (more train/ticket issues) and I was standing in line to get a ticket for my mom for the train when they blew the whistle. Well, me, my mom and her THREE suit cases ran to the train and threw the bags on, while one tumbled off the train, so we could catch it. This means I did not have a ticket. Well of course for the first time ever!!! They say they are going to check tickets, and I knew I was going to French jail. I never necessarily ever wanted to spend time in jail, much less a French one… but!!! Christmas miracle, they didn’t get check them? Anyway. Three suitcases. Yes my mother traveled to Europe for three weeks with as much luggage as I brought to live for a year. She is an amazing woman and I ordered about 3,000 things for Christmas for my French family and my mom brought as many of my gifts as humanly possible. Which apparently it is, in three suitcases. Haha.

The first day we spent with my French family. Hanging out eating (because, france) We had a French meal for lunch which is like some sausage and bean thing. My French mom doesn’t know the name, but it’s good. And salad of course. My mom and I went through her suitcases and I started wrapping some of my gifts while she took a nap. That evening we had another French dinner, the name I forget. But it is like a bunch of appetizers, essentially. My mom ate fois gras for the first time and got drunk on wine. Classic France. I am really glad she got to eat this stuff and have the experience with my family here because honestly they are the best.

The next day I spent doing some babysitting because my family was leaving for the Czech Republic. We had quiche for lunch, which I effing love and just spent time with them. They left about 3pm and just hung out. I made a dinner of leftovers and other things cause that’s what we do and we watched a movie. Rather uneventful.

Christmas eve we went to Paris. My mom kept (and keeps) saying how she can’t believe she is in Paris and in Europe. It is funny because I realize I am maybe taking it for granted. I use to feel the same way and now I just feel normal. Like this is my home and although clearly this is a dramatization, I don’t remember not living here. It’s just normal. We went to the American breakfast place because there is nothing like a fake American breakfast when you’re in France!

We were supposed to be staying in the flat that night but ended up not. We packed a bag and that morning dropped it off before breakfast and holy guacamole awkward. I, for whatever reason, am not smart enough to open the door to this place and this is not the first time. Last time was 4am and me and my friend were drunk while my French family were all sleeping inside. Anyway. Well I of course couldn’t open the door and that family was in the south of France for Christmas. Well, all of the sudden someone said hello from the otherwise of the door. Well answered it was a boy I did not recognize. I had no idea what to do and I couldn’t communicate exactly what I wanted to I was luckily connected to their internet having stayed their previously and I used my translator app to tell this kid what’s up. He asked us to wait in the dinning room and he was hastily cleaning the living room where he apparently just slept. Well I texted my French mom asking what the hell was up. She calls me in a panic and tells me to get out of the house now and call the police because no one was supposed to be there. All hell ensues, I am shitting myself, my French mom is panicking until 5 minutes later when we find out this kid is legit. The whole thing was so crazy and ridiculous.

So we eat and head to Notre Dame. It was so far a really nice day out. The church is an amazing site to see and my mom wasn’t let down. After, we walked around some streets and shops and then saw my favorite building, Hotel de Ville. We watched the ice skaters We did some shopping at a few different stores. After that we had an appointment at the Eiffel Tower. I had just recently done this with a friend but I was excited to go again. Before that, we had a hot dog in a baguette. Let me tell you. Ridiculous. Anyway. My mom was so excited to go to the Eiffel Tower and to go the top. It is kind of nice to see someone so excited about something and it was really awesome to share in that with my mom. It was so cold, of course, and raining. The fog rolled in and you could barely freaking see anything which was extremely irritating!!! We had dinner reservations so after that we headed to another area of Paris.

We were early so we walked around in the rain and checked out some of the things nearby. Dinner was amazing. (see pics) I did like a red wine tasting with our waitress when I couldn’t decide what I wanted. It was so awesome. I had a skirt steak with a blue cheese sauce, fries and oxtail macaroni. My new motto is when in France, eat all the weird shit you can that you would have never eaten before. Oxtail as it turns out kind of tastes like short ribs. My mother had filet, with ratatouille and pan fried mushrooms. The mushrooms were out of this world. Fried would not be the term I would use to describe these. They were like seared maybe and in garlic and spices and other good things. I had crème brulee for desert, because if you know me well this is my most favorite thing ever. My mom had an apple pie with ice cream. After we gorged ourselves we waddled to the train station and went home for the night.

Christmas day we wore our jammies, which I bought us cause they were matching but mine were blue and moms were pink. (see pic below) We had a breakfast of weird things and then we planned on hanging out and watching hallmark Christmas movies all day. Well…that apparently meant us falling asleep and not waking up until it was time to open gifts with my family. Skype is an amazing thing. We skyped Christmas with my dad, sister, brother and brother in law. We still had our traditions and ways we did things but it was just far away this time. It was weird and sad and I missed being around everyone. Again, oh well. Oh! Our Christmas dinner was a pizza. Haha. France has these really good pizzas in the cold section not frozen with all types of toppings we don’t really use…ie amazing cheese and veggies and hams. Anyway, that’s what we ate. I also drank like three sodas and ate chocolate for lunch. No wonder I wanted to pass out in a coma for hours. I am not sure that was the best diet, but hey, it was Christmas! And I am on vacation damn it! The rest of the evening we watched a movie and hung out. Also because I am awesome, I made some drawings of gifts for my mom and wrapped them for her. I have included them for your viewing pleasure below. I am a fucking artist. YOU CANNOT DENY IT!

The day after Christmas we were back in Paris. My mom again was still so excited about being in Paris. We ate lunch/breakfast at a bagel joint I have seen several times. It was okay. I probably won’t go back. France has not perfected the bagel. Again, C’est dommage. We then went to a park that has this relaly big large statute that I don’t know what it is. I mean I know that at some point every few years a group meets at it and travels to Jerusalem. Ps I suck at history. Seriously. I need to practice that. We wanted to hit up some museums yesterday so we made our first stop at the Louvre. What an overwhelming place. It was kind of too much especially when compared to other places. Yea, there is some great art in there but it’s so massive and there is so much and it’s so crowded. It’s just so. My mom saw the Mona Lisa which is what she wanted and I saw the Venus de Milo. You can’t come to France and not go to this place but I have to say it was too too much. Also, as a traveling tip, GET YOUR TICKETS IN ADVANCE. That is all.

We also went to this Christmas market my mother had been talking about for days. It was a letdown. Sadly. They put up a ferris wheel at the end of the Tuileries garden. The market was just behind there. She bought a magnet there and we had a nice time. My mom also, for whatever reason, is obsessed with the French military who are always everywhere so I had to take a picture of them for her. And now I refer to them as her friends every time I see them, which again is always.

We had dinner at a café we found and ate some quiche, spaghetti and a crepe. After, it started raining, which was awful because it was also so cold. We went to the Champs Elysees and saw the Arc de Triomphe. I wrote about this before but it is completely lit up at night for the holidays and it is totally amazing. You can’t put it into words and the pictures never ever do it justice.

I think this is all I will write for now. It is so much. We went to Paris again today but I will try to write again in like three days. We leave for England on Monday and I am so excited. Hopefully anyone reading this had a great Christmas or Hanukah or whatever holiday you celebrate at this period of time. Also!!! Thank you to my friends and family who sent me Christmas cards and a special thank you to my Aunt for an amazing package! I LOVE getting mail!

trials and tribulations of a fat food lover trying to run: as it turns out my latest issue is running at all. For about two weeks I was really sick and running a fever. I was actually getting really scared I was going to have to go see my semi-pleasant French doctor who only speaks French. It wasn’t until about two days ago that I could actually breathe above like 10%. What a nightmare. So. I have to start running again. Luckily I got some really great warm running stuff for Christmas because it is only getting colder here. I am super loving this RBX brand of clothes. I honestly don’t even know if this is a good brand or where you can buy it because I get it at like Marshalls and TJ max but I LOVE it. My sister got me some AMAZING gloves (ps running with cold hands sucks so much ween) and she also got me a running water bottle. Let me tell you how awful running in 30 degree weather for 9 miles is on your mouth and throat and stomach. It is the pits. I can’t wait to try these out and actually run again. I have like two months…kind of because February is like three quarters of a month and in that time I have three weeks of vacation…ahhh. Semi Paris please do not murder me. Merci.

Title quote: pinterest. cause. duh.