I'm not dead, really.

I swear I'll have a real post soon.  Time has slipped away from me, at least that's the excuse I'll use.  I hope you had a great Thanksgiving should you be in a Thanksgiving celebrating region.  Last month or not, hope it was good!

Also, why don't I look like him!

Curl into ball, sleep like kitty....

You would not believe the list of excuses I can give you for my absence.  Seriously, I took my time, and I can give you a nice organized, laminated list.  Sometimes, I think I'm better at making excuses than getting everything done that I need to in a day.  Seriously, if procrastination were an olympic sport, they'd have to mint a new medal just for me.  Gold wouldn't be enough.

Last weekend was the Armistace in France, so no one was doing much of anything.  Partner and I decided that it would be an ideal weekend to take a trip up to see family in the Center region.  Since Partner had the day off as well, we could leave on Friday afternoon and get there around 4 or 5.  It all depended really on traffic, and how fast we were planning on going.

We ended up leaving around 1:30, because well, we're good like that.  There was, happily, next to no traffic, but the weather change was hilarious.  We left Rennes with bright open sunshine.  When we finally got around Le Mans to catch the Autoroute, you could see the sky change.  There was fog everywhere and it was completely overcast.  My ears were popping as the air pressure changed, and my back, which was just getting back to normal, wasn't handling the 2 hour drive so well.

We got there in one piece though, and everything was good.  We spent some time talking and just having a good time seeing everyone.  Sister and brother in law were well.  They were just finishing up their work they needed to get done before their daughters got home from college for the holiday.  Of course, my niece was running around, but she was more excited that her sister would be bringing her boyfriend, and that meant a Wii.  Of course, that would all have to wait until after dinner: crepes.

Now, I have helped make crepes before.  I always watch for the first few and let the pan heat up, because it has to be done a certain way at first.  Once you get going, it's just a matter of getting into a rhythm and spreading the batter correctly in the pan.  It's a hard motion to explain.  The best I can explain it is that you take a ladle full of batter, start at about 10 or 11 o'clock, and spread in a circular motion back on itself.  After that, it's just a matter of getting under it correctly, flipping it, and letting the other side cook about a minute.  Here's a video I made of the process a while ago.



I was going along just fine when the last niece got back.  At that point, I had probably made a good 35 crepes, and was doing just fine.  Then we broke out the wine and I had a glass.  I was feeling so tired before that I didn't want to risk falling asleep by 9, face down in a crepe.  Unfortunately, I had also only had 5 of those little butter cookies topped with chocolate, think petit écolier, and a cup of earl grey.  I had to stop after one glass because I knew that it wold be a bad idea to go further, until I had more in my stomach.  I drank one glass, and I messed up my first crepe.  That was the perfect excuse to stop.  We had a great night of eating crepes and later playing Mario Kart.

The next day was pretty quiet.  We just talked and partner tried to study.  With everyone in the house, he only got through about 3 pages of the 15 he wanted to study.  He eventually gave up.  As for myself, I couldn't really sit down and relax in front of the computer, so I checked email and left it at that.  I watched some TV, because they have cuisine TV and telemaison.  I miss it, so much.  Later that night, was raclette.

Raclette is potatoes served with cold cuts, covered in a cheese called raclette.  It's a very particular type of cheese, from the same group as reblechon, if you're familar with it.  it has a very low melting point and a very particular taste.  the actual name of raclette when translated directly into English is squeegee.  It's named for these small, flat, wooden spatulas that you use to clean the cheese off the thing to heat it up.  It's absolutely wonderful.  Anytime when you can eat coppa, chorizo, and jambon bayonnne sandwiched between melted cheese and potato; I call that a win.  I drank less that night as to be in better form for Mario Kart.  I still...did terribly.  Give me an RPG any day of the week!

We ended up leaving the next day around 4 in the afternoon.  It was another nice opportunity to decompress.  I got a few more leads about work in Rennes as brother and sister in law are pretty well connected.  I just called today about one but got an answering machine.  All and all, I was pretty glad to have a chance to relax. The only problem is how long it took for me to get back on track.  Seriously, I spent 4 days just catching up on stuff.  Ridiculous.

So that was why I have had absolutely no drive to do anything.  I got stuck in relax mode.  I'm finally coming out of it, as my back problems are going away too.  We'll see how all this works out.  I have a few more ideas for posts and such, and I need to get back to NaNoWriMo.  I just stopped right before we left.  Anyway though, back to it!

Faux Paris

http://bigthink.com/ideas/41105

Now this is pretty fascinating.  Apparently the French Government started work on a copy of Paris to trick the Luftwaffe.  It's a pretty interesting article.

Haven't Felt Like That in Years

Last night I had serious déjà vu.  I got off the metro stop, and there was Place Sainte Anne, filled with drunk and or drinking people.  All of the restaurants had that same familiar smell of fried food and alcohol.  I walked around the place a bit, just to get my bearings, and figure out exactly what was going on.  The more I looked around and the further I walked, I realized that somehow I had been transported back to High Street.

I guess I should probably explain what on earth I was doing out at midnight in Rennes.  My sister in law told me about a friend of her's who was performing that night who would be a great contact to have in the city.  He had a lot of friends and might be able to help me out in the job search.  On the one hand, this would be a chance to maybe make a connection and possibly have some work come out of it.  On the other hand, this meant navigating Rennes by night.  I had never been left to my own devices in Rennes past 3 pm.  I had taken the metro/bus system all over town, so that wasn't an issue.  The greater issue would be myself. 

Back in the day, there was very little that scared me.  I remembered walking through the creepy part of High Street between the Short North and the University District back coming back from the Gallery Hop.  Of course I was also usually drunk and as a result afraid of nothing, or with someone who was coming back to my place.  Yes, I mean that exactly as it sounds.  I never thought anything of walking back from visiting a friend that lived down on 12th Avenue past Big Four.  Hell, I even once walked the whole way back from Micro Center to my apartment on Lane.

After Partner and I moved out of the University District, I started to develop this fear of cities at night.  It's like I had reverted back to this scared kid that I was back when I started at Ohio State.  I don't know if other people have this same oppressive feeling they get, where everything is so exciting, but so scary at the same time.  I used to get this feeling when I first started going to house parties or to clubs and bars.  I get fascinated by everything and all of my senses seem to heighten.  It's like this huge adrenaline rush.  Of course, the problem is, after that's done I find myself exhausted. 

Part of me was secretly hoping that I could talk Partner into going with me.  He had just finished his mock exams this week, so he had been hitting the books even harder than normal.  I figured maybe he could come out with me and we could just walk around a bit late at night.  I would leave it up to him if he wanted to take the car or not.  After all, the metro was running until 12:45 and the buses later than that.  I was of the mindset that maybe being out in it would put him in a different mindset. 

That became a solid no when Partner came home.  he had gotten stuck in an hour long traffic jam for an accident that he never saw the remnants of.  I knew that he would be staying in tonight when he told me that he expected blood on the highway with the time he waited.  He's not a horribly violent person, but as with most French people quite the râleur.  Ok, so I would be going myself tonight, even better. 

I decided that I should leave around 9:30 since it was at 10.   The metro is pretty fast, because it's not very big of course, so really the longest parts of my trip would be walking to the station and finding La Salle de la Cité.  Google Maps made it look like it was nothing.  Seriously, it was right off the Place Sainte Anne.  How could I miss it?  So I get dinner around for us, we eat, and then I head out around 9:20.  I make it to the metro and take it down to Sainte Anne no problem.  So I start off in one direction, find the road I was supposed to take, and head down it.  I start to notice that I'm not on the Place anymore.  

I ask someone where to find it, and they have no idea where it is.  I head back to the place because I don't want to get lost.  I ask someone else, and they say to take that road over there and make a left.  Ok.  So I keep going, and well, end up somehow near a town market that I have no idea where I am, but take the next road.  Mother in Law always told me that pretty much all roads in Rennes lead you back to a Place.  I finally am within spitting distance of the place and I ask a guy walking by if he knows where it is.  He says to take this road back to the place, but keep going straight, and that I couldn't miss it.  After 20 minutes of dicking around, I finally get there. 

So it was kind of a strange night.  It was a presentation of film projects by the lycées in Rennes.  They were actually some really great movies with some great ideas.  One film was about this guy who finds a book that tells about his life.  There was another about a woman who was running from her past.  They tried to be international and spoke English in it.  The speaking would be best described as "correct," but in the French sense of correct.  Afterwards, the guy I went to see came on stage.  It was an interesting concept.  He redid the soundtrack to the movie Duel.  He built some really good tension with his use of guitars and other ambient sounds.  There was some really interesting parts like when he would change the radio, he'd switch what was playing.  Of course, the film has a lot of meaning that can be drawn from it too, so overall it was a good experience. 

At the end of the performance, I tried to find him to talk a bit. Of course, I had to keep an eye on time, and make sure I wasn't going to miss the last metro.  I waited for probably about 15 minutes outside after probably a good 20 of searching for him.  I tried to talk with a few people, but there was nothing going on, so I just said that I'd have to try and talk with him another time.  I walked back to Sainte Anne.  

Of course, things were only louder and drunker there.  People were coming off the metro in costumes, because French people don't seem to realize that Halloween is over and you can't just celebrate it the week thereafter.  I was just taking the steps down when 5 police officers were coming onto the place.  I got out of there in a hurry.  Naturally, on the train there was a kid drinking Kronenbourg on the metro, something I had assumed illegal.  He was speaking very loudly, and would have been amusing if I didn't have a problem with watching people publicly embarrass themselves.  Finally, I made it back to my stop. 

So I'm walking back and nothing's really looking familiar.  I come to a cross walk and look at one of the signs for the road.  I am at a road that is a good deal North of where I should be.  I'm starting to think that maybe I should turn around, but I don't know, that maybe I just came out at a weird place.  I walk a bit further on the same road.  I generally know where I am, so I'm not concerned about being lost.  I keep going until I see an escalator.  I had walked back an entire metro station north of where I needed to be. My metro card was still active, so I went back to the station, took the road back the right sense, and finally got back home about 12:40.  

Overall, it was a strange night.  I had a good time to be sure, and I'm glad I went.  I just haven't felt that adventurous in a while.  I don't know exactly why either.  In any case, I've conquered Rennes by night, and I got to feel like I haven't in almost 10 years.  Hope you're all doing well, I've got NaNo to get back to.....

October; or why I don't really bother with Halloween

The best part of Halloween in my opinion is that it means October is over.  Since I was little, I have always just had bad memories that are associated with October, and because of it, I wanted to move onto something happier.  This week specifically, I'd like to move on to something a little better just because my back hurts insanely, because of a sciatic nerve problem I've had since I started working jobs that required 8 hours of sitting a day.  Seriously, I went to go get groceries today at Carrefour, and I felt like I was walking like an old man.  Ridiculous.

There's no better place to start than with my time back when I was a kid as to why I am slightly bitter about Halloween.  As they say, you attract more flies with sugar than honey.  My mother never really knew what to do for Halloween costumes for boys.  When I was a little kid, my options were pumpkin or dragon.  These were hand me down costumes from my older brother.  One of the most fun parts about Halloween is supposed to be choosing what you want to be.  For me, the choice was already made.  My sisters could always do something with what we had, like wearing one of my mother's old bridesmaid's dresses and be a Southern Belle, or wear a lot of jean material and be a hippie.  For boys, it always seemed like it was harder.

As I've mentioned before, we lived in Cornfield Central.  Because of that, our nearest neighbors were a ways away, and walking at night was scary.  Our other option was to take my mother's old car.  It was a really nice muscle car back in the day.  She had a 68 Firebird that she drove off the showroom floor in Defiance.  Now; however, it was 1987 and no one had rebuilt the transmission since it was bought.  So when you'd be driving the transmission bands might slip, and you'd drop from 60 to 0 in less than a second.  If the transmission didn't kick back in, you'd be pushing the car home.  We only used it for short trips, like to church and back.

We did it one year in the Firebird, and that was kind of disastrous.  There weren't a lot of young families in our neighborhood, so some of the families didn't have candy.  So we had to figure out which houses to go to.  Another problem was space.  A Firebird isn't designed to hold 6 people, regardless of age.  It also had no heat, and no radio.  Those were stolen when a cousin had the car on the local college campus.  On top of that, my youngest brother was all of 2 years old, and really didn't want to be out that long without making a fuss.  So between a young child, and nearly getting pushed off steps by one of my siblings for a snickers bar, that was the first and last year we did trick or treating.

That's not to say that my mother never tried to have fun on Halloween.  When we were younger, we actually had a really fun party among the 6 of us.  Since my dad worked second shift, we only had one car with a dependable transmission until 1996.  So instead of feeling sad about not being able to go trick or treating, we each got a sack of candy, dressed up in our costumes, and had pizza.  It was pretty fun.  I guess I just never really got into the spirit.

One of the worst parts about October was that my mother always used to get really depressed during the month.  She just seemed like she didn't want to do anything, and most of the time we'd just be curled under blankets watching Must See TV, hoping that no one would bother coming over begging for candy.  I never really understood why until I remembered that my grandmother died on October 21st.

My parents moved in with my grandmother back in 1981 to take care of her, and because the rent would be free.  My grandmother was getting to an age where it was hard for her to get around, and she would forget things sometimes.  My mother was a stay at home mom at the time, and she already had three kids.  It was pretty ideal.  After she had me in 1983 and my younger brother in 1985, it started to get more complicated for her.  My grandmother's condition was worsening.  She started to get more and more confused, and angry.  Finally in 1987, my grandmother passed away.

It took a good 10 years for my mother to really move on from the death of my grandmother.  I think much of it had to do with living in the house and seeing all of her clothes and possessions around her 24 hours a day. My parents even moved into my grandmother's room a few months after her passing.  On top of that, there were some problems with family because of the will.  My grandmother wasn't insanely rich or anything, but she had more than enough to live comfortably.  It was so bad, one  uncle and aunt wouldn't come into the house for the wake.  They were that ashamed of what they had done to the rest of their family.

Growing up with all this bad stuff happening in October, it seems like it's when bad stuff happens to me.  I always tend to have health problems in October.  I think the first breakdown I had was in October.  My sophomore year of college I got a sinus infection for the first time in my life and guess which month it happened?  The first time I had really bad sciatic nerve problems was in October.  I'm also pretty sure I just lost out on another job today.  It gets me coming and going.

So you'll have to understand that none of this is blaming, or whining, even though it may sound like it, but statements of fact all.  I don't actually mean to sound as crotchety as I probably do.  If I'm invited to a Halloween Party, I'll try and find a costume and go.  I'll smile and say Happy Halloween to people, but after I'm done, just let me go home and curl up on the couch or if it's been a particularly bad day, in the shower with the hottest water I can stand either running over my head or against my lower back.

The Queerest of Birds

While finishing the cleaning today, as I clean every Saturday to get it the hell out of the way, I was thinking about a lot of things, and I finally had a stroke of inspiration for writing, so I think I'll try and turn it into a full length book.  If you do National Novel Writing Month, I'll probably work on it there.  If you're around, I'm also Tamayn there.

I plan to try and make it similar to an Agatha Christie style story.  There will be an overarching murder plot, but a focus on the relationship of a long lost brother whom the family despises at worst, or wants nothing to do with at best.  The only grandchild will be the other focus character.

Lord knows that I read them enough, and have been watching them often enough here.  I still have more research to do on a certain aspect of the interesting part of the story line, but well, I'll leave that to be found out later.  If people want to see it, I'll post what results.

La Pilule Amère

So I'll start slow with this because basically all I wanted to do yesterday, and I still kind of feel like it today, is curl up in the bathtub with some cake mix.  As I mentioned, I started applying for jobs here in France.  I knew this would be a bit of a complicated situation.  I guess I never expected to get even a response.

I should really mention a problem I have.  The best way I've found to describe it is that I go up like a rocket, and come down like a stick.  Outwardly, I am a bit cynical about things, but secretly I'm already counting on success on everything I do.  So when I got a response from one of the first places I applied to, I was floored!

The schedule would have been 12 hours a week.  It wouldn't have been a terrible amount, but it would have been a start.  They asked me if the hours worked for me, and wanted me to respond as soon as possible.  So I called the number I had been left at the bottom, and set up an appointment to speak with the people necessary.  I was really excited, because this meant that I wouldn't feel so useless here.  I could contribute real money to the situation here, and we wouldn't have to worry about next year.  I was really excited.

I called my sister in law and mother in law to ask them how I should approach this.  I've never been terribly confident in my actual French level, so I always feel like I'm at a disadvantage.  They said to try and keep it simple.  Don't get in over your head.  Explain the situation exactly as it is. They said that given the level of the job, and that I wouldn't be speaking with people all that much, so I should relax on that front.  The one thing they said though was that this job isn't something that would appeal to a lot of French people.  Frankly people who are already on chomage make more than this job would give a month, so it's not to their advantage to take it.  I had maybe a bit more confidence with that.

They said for a job like this, the most important thing was to present myself well.  I just got a hair cut last week, so that was fine.  I needed to shave, which I did (even shaving against the grain with a new blade to make sure it was smooth.)  I wore dress pants and a dress shirt.  I even put a sweater over the top of it, one to look even more French, and number two so that no one would notice the shirt was off white.  Since the sweater was tan, the shirt looked really nice and white.  I even took one of those chemises with me and a pen and paper.  I don't think I ever tried to look that French in all my life.  ( I should just mention I hate shaving and never wear a sweater with a collared shirt because I get really warm easily, and I think it just looks so ridiculously Ned Flanders that I want to beat myself up. )

Digressing, I got there with about 15 minutes to spare.  I had always heard it was a good idea to arrive between 10 to 15 minutes before the appointment.  I spoke with the person at the Acceuil and was told that the person I was supposed to meet with was in a meeting, but someone else would be down to receive me.  In a few minutes I see a person in a suit come to the desk.  I assume that it's him.  He comes over and asks if he should know me.....?  It's not the right person and I'm turning about a thousand shades of red.  But I smile, excuse myself, and the woman at the acceuil explains that I'm waiting for someone and that he's fine.  She tells me that the person I'm going to meet with will be down in just a few minutes.

The guy arrives just a little bit after, now that I'm really embarrassed and even more nervous, it's a match made in heaven.  He's a young guy, probably younger than me in truth, and he asks me how I'm doing.  I reply that I'm doing fine, and we walk to the back.  He asks me if I had ever worked in a store like this before, I say yes, and explain a bit.  I'm so nervous I really don't know what to say.  So I try to explain a bit, but it's not going so great.  So. Damn. Nervous.....

We go to an office, and he explains a bit about the job.  We go over the hours, the days I'd work, how many people would be on the team I'd be working with, and just a few general things.  I get the feeling he's killing time until I can speak with the person I need to talk to.  He asked me if the schedule would work.  I say yes, not a problem.  We talk a bit more, and he asks me if I can take on more hours sometimes.  I say it's fine.  I try to explain the situation but I'm still a bit tongue tied.  Someone comes in and tells him that the woman I was supposed to speak with is now available.  So we get up, and walk to her office.

She says hello, we shake hands and she has me take a seat.  She asks me how high my level of French is, and I try to stammer out a response until the guy says "small," and she says, "oh, small."  That was it!  At that point, something just snapped in my head.  Now it was a challenge.  I responded with, "J'aime penser que je peux parler très bien Française, mais j'n sais pas."  She blinked and opened her eyes a bit wider.  She smiled a bit and said, "Ah bon, je trouve que vous parlez très bien!"  I felt vindicated!  We talked a bit more.  I'd be on a CDI, but for students, at which point I had to explain about visas and such.  She said that would be worked out with the person who handled that.  Of course, I was to speak with her next.

So I meet with her, we talk, and she says that she doesn't know how it would work to hire me, because with my visas, it becomes more complicated.  So she calls the prefecture.  Of course, no one's there until tomorrow morning, as the person who handles it only works two days per week apparently, so she'll have to call back tomorrow, get word back, and speak with him then.  I figure, ok so she'll do that, and I'll be working next week ok.

I'm pretty happy, I'm telling everyone on the phone that I don't know what will happen, but everyone seems pretty confident that it'll work out.  So I'm pretty happy, talking with partner.  He's happy for me, and we're a little relieved.  He has to go back in for his afternoon class that day, so I walk out with him.  I come back upstairs and see that I missed a call.  It's the woman who needed to call the prefecture for confirmation to let me know that with the visas I have, it would be IMPOSSIBLE!  No real explanation other than that.  She said to call back if I had any questions.  So just.....whatever......

So I was really pissed, and just annoyed with the whole situation.  I took a walk and called a few people...  The search continues only now, I'm just slightly less enthusiastic about the search.  France is a tangle of bureaucracy, so I'm not completely saddened by it, but I'm just, yeah....  If I could just marry my partner like in the majority of European countries, I wouldn't need 2000 euros per month with 400 dollar a month health insurance.  So I'm just done for a bit.

Where's that cake mix.......?