waaaaah!

I just had lunch with a friend who had also gone to the interview for the TV show and they told her right away that they wanted her, while they told me they'd "call me next week". So even though the week is only half-way over, I think my budding TV talkshow career is all the way over. I think that if they didn't tell me right away, that they won't tell me at all, so I will just add it to my list of almosts, along with any play I ever tried out for after high school and all of the decent flats I looked at while looking for a place to live (well, even the really decrepit ones had just been taken). Next time I will try for loud, obnoxious, pushy instead of my usual mild-mannered self and see if that gets me anywhere. I had nothing to lose anyway, and it was a fun experience. Right?

Another kind of star

On Tuesday I got a call from a woman I hadn't seen or heard from in about 3 years. She left me a message saying a friend of hers is producing a new daytime tv talkshow and are looking for people of different nationalities to participate in a weekly roundtable to discuss current events. They were looking for an American (me!) who speaks good Spanish (also me!) and who is nice (but of course, me!). So I called up Juan Carlos the producer and he had me come in for an audition on Thursday. I went and met one of the writers, who had lived in New York for 5 years as a kid and was wholy unimpressed that I was from Colorado. He seemed to think I grew up wearing skirts and skipping through fields and milking cows instead of being a real American, which was for him someone from New York. Ugh, I hate it when I meet foreigners who think there's nothing more to the US than NY or LA. Unhappily, a girl walked in right after me from New York (bi-atch) and the writer and her became fast friends while I sat quietly trying to think of something to say about New York so he would be interested in me again. Aaanyway, next I went into the meeting with the directors and some writers, I guess I don't really know who they were. They grilled me on current events and asked if I had access to info on events from the American point of view, to give a spin to the show. I don't know what they really thought of me, but seems to smile and nod appropriately. So they either loved me or were giving me sympathetic encouragement. I'll find out next week if I get to go on to the next step as token foreign girl...

Big birthday bonanza

Lisa and I decided to put on a dinner for Hamish's big birthday (denial) party. His birthday was over a month ago, but this was the first time we could all get together. The following is the story of one of the most pathetic birthday parties ever (aside from my own, which are always much worse):
the dessert we bought had CAT HAIRS on it, so we didn't use it and lisa was going to make a cake with some cake mix I'd bought from France but couldn't get the oven to light, she also had balloons and forgot them at her house, but that didn't matter because she showed up an hour late and Victor showed up 2 hours later, so the party was just me and Hamish for a while. then we got the grill rolling and it started to rain, so we had to bring everything inside and use my new table (which did a great job!) and set up an umbrella to protect the bbq. food was good, but there was no b-day cake and I only had 3 tea lights and some cheese, so I thought we'd do dessert French style, with cheese, though Hamish wasn't too keen to blow out the tea candles I was holding in one hand and feast on the cheese (wedge of Laughing Cow, grated parmesan, and a bit of spanish cheese) I held in the other. Can you believe the ungratefulness!? :) Then we were going to go to the fireworks, but they got rained out, so it was a terrible bust but at least we had a great light show au natural. At least we managed to get the birthday boy good and drunk, so maybe he won't remember what a pathetic party he had!

God help me!

So when they gave me the laptop for work in France, I was told it was installed with a DVD player (true), so I went to FNAC to look for a DVD I could watch when I was otherwise unoccupied in Montpellier. I picked up Alias, season 2, remembering how my brother and his wife love the show, so I thought I should see what the buzz was about. Unfortunately (or fortunately) the DVD player didn't work. Why? Must have something to do with our 60-year-old IT guy Carles who never leaves the building (and who's actual knowledge of modern-day computer systems is completely suspect), and won't let anyone else touch his stuff except for poor Carlos 2 (affectionately known - but not by him - as "dos") who is only allowed to touch certain buttons and never ever make decisions for himself. It was Dos who told me I had a DVD player, but it must have been the Captain who sabotaged it! This is odd because he seemed to have acquired a particular affection for me, telling me that I was "no sólo buena, pero también buena" - meaning, I was not only good but HOT. I thought maybe this unreciprocated admiration would encourage him to change cologne and shower, but so far nuthin'. Oh, I am getting mean, so better to continue the story (which you will find out at the end has no point whatsoever). Soooo, to make a long, uninteresting story even more so, I couldn't watch the DVD for 3 months, it was sitting on the shelf staring at me, though I hardly gave it another thought except for "why did I shell out 30 Euro on Alias, when clearly Friends is the only show that matters!" Well, I got back to Spain 3 weeks ago, unpacked and found that fateful 6-disk pack. I pulled out disk 1, and stuck it into the DVD player hooked into the TV set. The last 3 weeks have been a blur of strange wigs, funny accents and ass-kicking suspense! Lisa, my roomie, and I have been hooked and discussing where we would fit into the CIA - I'm pretty good at remembering where I left my keys (most of the time) and Lisa thinks she's good at encouraging others, so maybe they need some key-remembering, uplifting CIA babes, both with 3+ languages under our belt ('course we'd have trouble with the fake Russian accents, but our Spanish is sure better than Ms. Bristow's). One night I think I watched 4 episodes in a row and had to try to think of some un-embarrassing reason why I was so tired at work the next day. All my dreams are of being chased and beat up. Wow, spy-life is tough. On Monday I finally watched the last episode of season 2, and Lisa and I will have to scrounge around FNAC to see if they have any more seasons. My spy days are not over yet!
One question: if Michael Vartan was born and raised in France, why is his French accent so bad? And to answer your question, yes, I do spend my work hours looking up the bios of actors from the series. I'm pretty sure that's why they gave us internet in the office, right? Right?

End of séjour in France

Oops, been over a month since my last posting! Finished classes in Montpellier and had a week of vacation in Switzerland, now I'm back in Barcelona, at the office. Over 200 emails to read, so.... I know this is lame, but I'm copying some emails I wrote:
RE: Tour de France finishing a stage in Montpellier:
The tour was really exciting, and there were supposed to be 70000 spectators along the 18km route that passed through Montpellier. I was on a bridge with a great view and we could see them coming from abt a 1/2 mile away. A large caravan of sponsors passed through about 45 min before the racers and handed out things like caps and key chains, so I got my souvenir! I took a bunch of pics, but they passed by so fast I barely got to see anything. One of my pictures has a pretty clear shot of Armstrong in his yellow jersey. I'll send some pics when I can, but we are leaving for a week's vacation now (to Switzerland and south of Germany) so when I get back to barcelona I'll get on it. Yesterday was my last day of class, so we went to lunch, then I went to see the tour, then ran home to clean the house before everyone came over for a barbecue! I was a long day, especially since Thursday was Bastille Day, so there was a fireworks show, then I went out dancing and didn't get to bed til 3. A great way to end my 3 months here.
And...
I'm now back from our little trip. Switzerland was just wonderful (but expensive!!). we went up the Matterhorn by cable car (not all the way to the summit, though, that requires special equipment!) and people were skiing on the glacier while others were trudging up the other side with crampons on their feet. I can't believe I am now in Barcelona and it is so hot, when days ago I was shivering and standing in an ice cave! We also did an awesome hike in the Jungfrau region, the glaciers above us were settling and shifting and it sounded like thunder. the 6 hr hike also passed through cow pastures (with cows wearing the typical bells around their necks). one came up and tried to lick me!

A night on the town

Lisa and Hamish came this weekend, which I was so grateful for because last week I was really missing my Barcelona life. They came on Saturday afternoon and we walked around a bit downtown. Dinner at my place, I made baked fish which was actually quite edible (I'm always afraid to make fish but it's so easy- see chocolate dipped strawberry disaster for further info on why the simplest recipes are not so simple...). We ate outside on the terrace and I brought out rosé wine and was embarrassed to realize it had a twist top. oops. I guess that's what you get for 2.50 Euros. Anyway, it was drinkable and made my super fish recipe seem MUCH more impressive than my wine selection. Then we were to meet some friends for drinks, so since buses stop running at 8:30, we'd have to walk the 30 min to the city center. This was perhaps the most surreal 30 minutes I've had:
1. We walked by a drink stand where everyone was smoking hash, including a taxi driver (this should have been a forewarning for later in the night).
2. The Pinte Pub, a bar we went past, was lined with parked HarleyDavidsons. This was not so weird as remarkable. You kind of had the feeling that if you stood there long enough, someone would get thrown through the glass window.
3. A car full of boys obviously off their heads (maybe they'd come from the drink stand in n0.1) pulled up alongside Lisa and kept saying things (incomprehensible because of my bad French or their slurred speech??). At first we tried to ignore them but they kept following us, so I delved into my vast vocabulary of retorts and insults in French and came up with "vas-y" with I think just means "Go ahead". They said, "vas-y" and laughed then drove off, so I guess it was effective. Maybe they took it as a challenge like "Bring it on!" and decided they couldn't take us. yeah, that's the ticket.
4. Lisa stepped in dog poo, where she had to stop and do a little dance twisting and dragging her foot on the dirt. which led to number 5
5. Two really drunk slurry guys saw Lisa's dance and decided they needed to come over and talk to her about it. They blocked the way but eventually we were able to cross the street when,
6. A girl sticks her head out the window of her apartment and asks for a light for her cigarette.

We finally made it to the bar unscathed (just a little poo on the shoe) and had a nice time with Ruth, who was leaving the next day to go back to Germany, and others from class. We left around closing and went to get a taxi.
7. Taxi driver was driving way too fast and on the bridge crossing over the railway tracks, he swiped an oncoming car which tore off his side-view mirror. He stopped the car on the bridge and got out to go after the other driver, but they were thankfully long gone. The rest of the trip was in silence (out of fear of the crazy taxi driver while he fumed and cursed). We got to my place and the weirdest thing of all happened:
8. The taxi driver charged me the price on the meter and did not try to rip me off! Sent shivers down my spine.
Better just go home and lock the door!

The rest of the weekend was so dull: nothing weird or threatening happened at all on Sunday or Monday.

Last one, I promise! This is Megalo, stairs were put in much later, but you can see the net used hanging from the primary tower. 

Megalo meteora 

Little guy in the path on the way down 

entering Kalambaka with Meteora in the background


Meteora


At the top.



Supplies are raised by a system of pulleys and a net. Even visitors were brought in this way, sometimes taking an hour sitting in a net while the monks turned pulled you up


terrace of monastery

Meteora 

entering Kalambaka with Meteora in the background 

Cozy travelling in our Cinquecento


Greek salad, wine and cheese. dinner of champions

Greece is Great- part V and fin!

I realize I'm saying "great" a lot. I will have to find another adjective, but I think it is a sign that I should finish this up quick before I run out of words altogether. Meteora was a magical, mystical place (how's that? great, huh?). We stayed in Koka Roka in Kalambaka, the town nearest the monasteries. It is run by a spritely old lady and her son. Her husband was conspicuously absent from all business matters and spent the day playing cards and smoking. Evening time the son lit up the fireplace and made the best juicy tasty meats accompanied by Tzatziki and cheese sauces. I'll post photos of Meteora.

Mt. Olympus as viewed from the seaside


Mytikas. I left my pack and camera at this point so no pics from the summit. sorry!

going towards Mytikas

Mytikas-Greece part IV

The refuge was great. Maria, the head ranger, is the daughter of the man who built the refuge and promoted it when it was a one-room cabin. It now sleeps 120 people. Maria’s mother was a German hiker who’d come to stay at the hut. She stayed once, then came the next year and stayed. Maria showed us around, and made us take off our shoes. We had to wear slippers or flip-flops in all parts of the refuge except the reception area. She does run a tight ship. The room we stayed in was in the new area and was colder inside than outside. The food was great and the views to the Aegean Sea were even better. Dinner was great and we met an amazing British couple who were in Greece to celebrate the wife’s, Mary’s, 55th birthday. Mary is a children’s book writer and dedicates her time to visiting schools and having children create puppets to tell stories. She and Kenneth, her husband, also take there puppeteering material to Romania every year to work with refugee children. Kenneth is a retired Classics professors turned story teller, who goes to schools dressed as characters of mythology and tells his ancient stories as Achilles or Zeus. They were really a wonderful, inspiring couple. Also in the room, quietly reading a copy of “the Iliad” was “Rule”, a mathematics teacher from New York.
Lights out was at 10pm, but I think I was asleep before then. The next day we got up at 6, there was no hot water, so showering was out of the question, had breakfast. Dad decided he wasn’t going to hike because of his heel, so Mo and I were going to go to the first summit, Skala, since we didn’t really think we’d want to go all the way up to the high point, Mytikas, by ourselves. To get to Mytikas there is a lot of scrambling up rocks, so not a good idea for the nervous hiker.
Mo and I started up. The whole thing really felt like an epic adventure, with small obstacles set in the way to test one’s worthiness to make it to the top. There were three large snow patches to cross, if you fell, you wouldn’t stop until you hit a rock or went over the cliff edge. Then the trail breaks into 2 and you have to decide which is the true path (that wasn’t so hard, because the other one ended and you had to turn back anyway). By the time we got above tree line, the wind really started blowing. As we stopped to put on our wind gear, I looked back and there was Dad limping up the hill. I guess he couldn’t let us reach such a mythical place without him. It took us about another hour to go up a very steep hill, with loose rocks and gusty winds. We saw several people turn back, but right when we got to Skala, the wind stopped completely and the weather turned perfect. Rule was also at this first summit and together we all decided to try for Mytikas. Rule was wearing a button up shirt and tie; maybe he wanted to make a good impression? 45 minutes of scrambling down then up and then around rock, I went through and overcame all of my fears and phobias about falling, slipping, misstepping, or otherwise coming to an untimely death. The climb was well marked with good steps and holds, but definitely not for the weary. We arrived at the top to views of all of Greece, the Aegean sea was a little overcast so we couldn’t see out to sea well, but the rest of the views were stunning. There was a book at the top to sign and leave your thoughts. We were the first to make it up that day.
We walked down, ate lunch at the hut, and after 8 hours of hiking, we made it to the trailhead. Mary and Kenneth gave us and Rule a ride to Litochoro in their tiny car. Then Rule drove us to the nearest car rental agency, which was unfortunately closed, in what was I would have to say a far more disquieting and frightening experience than climbing a crumbling mountainside. Rule hadn’t driven much in 20 years, and was not, umm, comfortable with his little rental car. I’ll leave it as that, since he did us a huge favor by bringing us back to the Poseidon Palace hotel and we are very grateful for that! (And more for making it back unscathed, I felt like I was in Herbie Goes Bananas). A good meal, good night’s rest and the next day was the trip to Meteora, an area where the unusual towering rock formations were used to built remote monasteries. They were built as early as the 12th c., I think, by a system of scaffolding, ladders and pulleys. Monks and nuns still live in 8 of these.

Latikarya to Refuge 1- Greece part III

There are 3 ways to get to the trailhead, which is about 15km up a winding road from Litochoro, which is still 8 km more from Latikarya where our hotel was located: taxi, hitchhike, or walk from Litochoro, which would mean about 5 hours extra of hiking. So while discussing how we would get there, the idea evolved that we could rent a car from the only car rental place within 30 km, which happened to be right in the hotel lobby. Plan was set.
We got up at 6 am to pack and get ready for the ascent of Mt. Olympus. Then we waited for the breakfast buffet to open at 7 am, and stuffed our pockets with figs, dates and bread rolls for the trip. The car rental desk was to open at 8, so we waited around for a few minutes, then Mo and I decided to go back to the room to get the luggage in order (i.e., take a nap). The rental car guy didn't show up until a half hour later, and I have fuzzy memories about what happened during their negotiations, but in the end, we decided it was better to take a taxi to Litochoro, then another to the trail head. So by 11am we were on the trail, when we should have started at 9. There's a little restaurant at the trailhead with big unfriendly signs saying "no backpacks", "we are NOT a refuge". I went in to ask about a toilet and 3 unfriendly men look up: “Toilet?” I said. "Problem." "Problem?" "Problem." I couldn't come back with a better argument, so walked out feeling dejected and with a full bladder. I guess I would just have to hold it.
The trail up to Refuge 1 was beautiful, it started out through a green, lush forest. At one point there was a line of leaning, partially uprooted trees that, if you followed them down the hill looked like a tunnel. I wonder what would've caused that? Then we crossed a dry riverbed and the forest turned to pine. Looking at the ravine below you could follow exactly where an avalanche had swept by, knocking over the trees on one side then another like a wave. Three hours later we crossed the remaining bits of a snow patch and looked up to see the refuge. It did not come a minute too soon.

Figs and dates- Greece part II

So, we make it to the Larissa station in Athens to take the train to Litochoro and Mo goes to buy the train tickets. We are sold the tickets and then informed that there was a train coming in 20 min but we couldn't take it, we'd have to wait for 2hours for the next train. As we began to learn on this trip around Greece, never trust the information you are given. You must always ask at least three different people and use the majority rule. So after asking several more people we find out the train is not full and that we can get on it and take the seats as scribbled on the tickets. This was still my first day in Greece, 2nd for Dad and Mo, so I passed the 6-h train ride by reading up on Greece and trying to remember the Greek alphabet by putting together my long-lost knowledge math, Frat parties and sorority rushes (ok, the closest I got to a sorority rush was being in the same campus bus as a bunch of girls, but some of the info stuck) and thankfully, my JOB actually helped because of all the crazy symbols, particles, receptors and drugs that carry Greek symbols. Finally Rho-kinase made itself useful! and thank you PPAR-gamma and -delta. big help. Anyway, I managed to read the nutrition information on my bag of popcorn by sounding out the vowels: p-rho-t-e-i-n-a-s. PROTEINS! I yelled out. Why were all the other passengers staring at me? he he.
Anyway, we got to Litochoro without many further events or embarrassments. It is a cute little town on the Aegean sea about 10 km from the foot of Mt. Olympus, which is quite a contrast going from sea level to the country's high point in just a few miles. We checked into Poseidon Palace, a great all-inclusive resort with its own private beach. In the morning we went to get our buffet breakfast with all the dried figs and dates and yoghurt you could eat. This was also a mostly-German resort (we were in the fact the only non-German guests and everything was written in German- so between my sounding-out of Greek letters and complete lack of understanding up German we had a pretty fun time getting around.) By way, lamb is "lambflesche" and rice with milk is "rischmilche"- pardon my spelling. Anyway, we loaded up on breakfast and packed little napkins aways stuffed with figs, dates, and bread for lunch. Dad had injured his heal pretty badly in a fall the previous week so was still limping and walking with a cane, so he needed to rest up and not move at all. I was prepared to lend moral support by not moving at all myself. So we had one whole day of the most perfect beach weather, a swim in the sea, and a walk to downtown Litochoro (dad rented a bike and rode there) where we all had a nice drink on the beach. *end part II- next time Mt. Olympos!*

Greece lightning I

Got back over a week ago from Greece, but had the usual inundation of e-mails and work to take care of. I know you were ALL dying to find out about the trip (all 2 of you, that's counting myself). I took the 6:30am Alitalia flight from Barcelona to Rome to Athens. OK, guys, there is a REASON Alitalia is so cheap. I will not mention the nauseating green upholstery or the snack, which was a little cake, which they didn't even offer, you had to ask for it, and I also won't mention the sketchy landings, which felt more like skip-the-rock than gently gliding to the ground. But I will mention the lurvely soundtrack that consisted of "My heart will go on", "Saved the best for last" and a small selection of any of Whitney Houston's earlier works (a hero lies in youuuuu). This would not have been so bad except for the fact that I had had 3 hours of sleep and was looking at 5 hours of travel, with a mere 20-30 (?) minutes of soundtrack. So by the end I'm sure I could have told the exact order of all of the songs frontwards and backwards. Luckily, the mind has a way of protecting its host by blocking out certain unpleasant, and potentially sanity-threatening moments, so I am actually having trouble now remembering all of the songs (Oh!- the one the blind Italian opera singer made famous, "Con ti partire"?, later translated into English by a pop diva and played at all your local dance clubs).
ANYWAY, got to Athens, and according to the last instructions as e-mailed by my dad (yes, I am pointing fingers) I was to take the 78 bus to Kali-something square and meet them at bus terminal B for the 3pm bus to Litochoro. I didn't find the bus my first round along the bus lines, so went inside the airport to find the information desk when, who did I see? My father waiting for me at the arrivals gate! (*uhmh* no comment) Well, for those of you who can't put two and two together, SOMEBODY changed the meeting point without telling me, which could have led to potential disaster if I had made it all the way to bus terminal B in crazy downtown Athens. Mo (my step-mother) showed up a moment later and off we went to find the train (NOT the bus) to Litochoro, on the Aegean coast.

Gods and coffee grinds

Well, I am off to Greece for a week with my dad and step-mom. Greece- a land full of mythology and ancient sites, its coffee full of grinds. You're fine as long as you don't drink it to the last drop! It'll be a great little adventure starting with a bus trip from Athens to a little coastal town, 2 days climbing Mt. Olympus (see if I find Zeus!), then 2 or 3 days around Meteora, which is an area filled with monasteries built on top of rock formations. Gotta get up early to catch the flight to Athens with a short layover in Rome, then I will go to the bus terminal to find Dad and Mo.
On Thursday I took the train back to Barcelona, then on Friday went into the office for meetings and catching up with what was going on. I kind of dreaded going in, but in the end I was glad to spend a day with my office mates! It makes the day so much brighter! Then the weekend was spend doing errands, visiting friends and watching the Barça soccer match- Barça became national champs for the first time in 6 years- we all went down to Pl Catalunya to see all the people celebrating. Everyone was dancing and singing "Madrid se quema, se quema Madrid!!" and later on I guess people started knocking over trash containers and burning them, the usual... Anyway, must go pack, so I will give you all an update when I get back.

Meaning of a 5-star

Spencer, Simone and some others were sitting around when Spencer says, "We have here a five-star man." Most things Spencer says leaves us confounded, so we just looked at him and waited for him to continue: "Simone, he's a 5-star, he knows 5 languages: Italian, French, English, Spanish and Norwegian." Spencer's a 4-star: English, Italian, French and German. So I counted my own languages: English, Spanish, Catalan (I can only speak it weakly, but understand it very well, so I counted it as 1/2) and French. Three and a half stars. Not bad, it's passing, like a Holiday Inn, but no Ritz Hotel. So now I have to think of another language I could learn to catch up with Simone. Maybe Italian, then I could go bug him where he lives in his "little village 3 hours north of Roma". Of course, Chad knows Chinese. Now that would be a challenge.
One day I was asked why I was learning French. Since I don't really have a good answer besides the fact that I like learning it, I said I wanted to be like the Pope (JP II knew something like 12). Spencer perked up and said he wanted to be like the Pope too, but I kind of think he actually would like to BE the Pope. And that's a whole other challenge.

First 3 weeks part III

Monday was devastating when I walked in and asked if class was in the same place and they'd sent me back a level. I spent the whole class fuming, especially since no one had even discussed it with me. After class, I saw my old teacher and she asked where I'd been. So it turns out it had only been an administrative error but I still felt irritated by the morning's events. So Tuesday I was happy to go back up to level 4 and felt silly for not having double checked before going into the wrong class. Friday was Simone's going away dinner. This is so hard, we make friends every week then every week some other great friend leaves. That will be the worst part about being here, the endless goodbyes. Hopefully at least we'll be able to keep in touch with the key people who come and go over these three months. Now there are only me, Cristina and Chad from the original group who are over 25 (or even over 20!). It's funny because a lot of times I feel like I'm in college again, but just feel a lot more tired after going out. Oliver continues to have a great time, and is making friends too (I wonder if what language they speak in??). The other night I was getting ready to turn the lights off and heard a scratch on the window. It really scared me because Ollie was already inside. I look out the curtain and there is a black cat with big green eyes staring in, like he belonged there! Then a couple of days later, Ollie hadn't come for bed when I called him so I left the window open for him and when I heard noises coming in, I turned on the light to shut the window and that damn black cat was looking at me. He shot out the window when I yelled at him and called for Ollie, who came right away. I do NOT want strange animals, especially Pet Sematary cats, coming in my house. I have enough with capturing lizards that Oliver's hunted and taking them back outside into the garden.
Victor came this weekend and we had a couple of hours to look around Montpellier city center before going to another going-away bbq, for a German girl, Kirsten. Then Sunday we went to Aiguesmortes, a cool 12th century village that was once the maritime gateway to Montpellier and Nimes, and port to the Crusades built by St. Louis. It is surrounded by a huge wall and a tower 6-meters thick to protect it from raiders, though the Tour de Constance was later used as a prisoner of Protestants when the edict of Nantes was revoked. The town has changed almost not at all, except for rampant tourism and a tasty shop of homemade cookies and candies you can buy by the kilo! Have I mentioned my pants have gotten tighter since I got here? Between the wine, cheese, and croissants, there's nothing I can do! That's it for weeks 3- I will try to do better at keeping a regular log and also post photos sooon.

First 3 weeks in Montpellier I

We had a great little going away gathering at home on Saturday night and early Sunday morning we got up, I finished packing, doped up Oliver the cat with sedatives so he wouldn't be scared on the trip and Victor drove us from Barcelona to Montpellier. The sedatives did NOT work and Ollie complained the whole trip. We got to Montpellier in about 3-1/2 hours, though got lost due to crappy directions I'd printed out from one of those road map sites. We got to a roundabout and it said go right and there were 4 places to go right- it's a roundabout! You can only exit right! So eventually we found the place, I am living in a little studio adjacent to a house. The studio is teeny tiny but the garden is huge and so beautiful- it is exactly how I imagined living in France would be like. We let Ollie play around in the garden. He grew up as a street cat in the city, but quickly learned the ropes (and how to jump the fence). I guess the little one had to grow up and become independent eventually. uh-oh, too much crazy cat lady talk. onto another subject...
On Monday 8:30 am Victor drove me to school, it was raining and made the shabby school look even sadder. I said good-bye to him, took a deep breath and went into my level test. I don't know how I did on the test, but the interview consisted in asking for my name and where I was born, then they sent me into class. That's it?? Yup, you can go now. Ok.... Class was fine, but afterwards I was in reception and other new students were hanging around too so we decided to go to lunch. I realized the big difference between 17 and 28 when the kids I went to lunch with (sandwiches) complained that they had to cook EVERY day! God I was depressed, and panicked- what am I doing? Am I the only one over 20 in this school? Day 2 was a little better when some people who'd missed Monday came into class and were 25 and 26 years old. Well, getting closer! I think I left right away that day, but on day 3 I invited myself along for coffee with the other students. They didn't try to ditch me or ignore me, so I guess it was ok for them! That's what happens when you are in a new place like this, everyone has come by themselves and are desperate for companionship. We are all lucky that we truly enjoy each other's company. In my class was an American ex-pat living in London and studying theatre. Our teacher Valerie made him sing and wow, what a voice. The kind that carries right to your gut. Spencer was the class entertainer and I almost felt a little bad for him that he had to get up and sing whenever the teacher said so (though he said he didn't really mind, since it's his profession and all). Saturday was Spencer's 27th birthday (he complained of being soooo old until I smacked him with my walking stick), so we went out to play laser tag. I'd never played it before, but it was so hilarious running around in vibrating suits shooting all the 12 year olds who came with their dads. Some of those kids really have a great aim! Then Sunday was Cristina's birthday, and since it was raining and we couldn't do the picnic as she'd planned we all went iceskating. Now I really feel like a little kid again.

Intro

So as to deflect a little of the flack I am getting for not writing to people while I am in France, I thought I'd try to start writing here and whoever likes can look me up and see what I'm up to. I've now been in Montpellier for 3 weeks. Decided I really needed to be in France to learn French and also to take a break from Barcelona and try something new for a while. So here I am for 3 months, taking French lessons for 3 hours every day and working from home in the afternoon, which seriously cuts back on my exploring-the-area and social time, but I can't complain - I love working at home, and I can go out into the garden with my laptop, or work at my desk and look out the window and watch Oliver the cat climb trees, though lately he's taken to bringing me "treats" in the form of tail-less wiggly lizards. At least they are not mice. I suppose lizards a slightly more hygenic? Anyways, this has been my garbled introduction and in the next entries I'll start writing a little about what I'm doing. -Kelley

First 3 weeks part II

Gosh, now I can't really remember what happened the second week... oh yeah, on Monday I walked into class and Valerie told me to go upstairs, that she'd changed to the next level up! That was a nice surprise, the previous week I guess I'd been a bit bored, but probably needed the practice. Patricia the new teacher is great and class is challenging, so at least I am making more of my time here. She also gives more homework, which I am happy to do. I want to learn learn learn. Friday was S's and Inés last day, so he was asked to sing Inés a song. Then Friday night was dinner at V's with other students and teachers. I had to bring dessert so on my mom's suggestion decided to bring chocolate-covered strawberries. You would think it's the easiest dessert to make in the world, since it has exactly 2 ingredients: chocolate and strawberries, yet somehow it was not easy. the chocolate didn't melt right and was chunky, so the strawberries were very ugly. I was embarrassed to bring them to a French person's house since they are so into food and eating. I told everyone that it was the inner beauty that counted. After a lot of laughs and joking, every single ugly strawberry was eaten up. Afterwards we ended up going to the park and talking and laughing as a way of sending Spencer off to London. Saturday was Inés' going away party and I think I must have spent Sunday sleeping all day. The life of a student is exhausting!