nouvelle vie: March 2011

Steph and I drove to Morestel - "Cité des Peintres" (The City of Painters) to see some art exhibitions and go to the open market.

Click on the pictures to make them larger if you want the full effect of the scenery.

This woman was obsessed with poppies.

Darth and Vader's brothers and sisters - literally. This is where Steph bought them.

I asked Steph why someone would pluck the feathers off the necks of these chickens. She told me that these poor things are born looking that ugly. The only Europeans who don't have anything around their necks.

Frog legs

I knew I wouldn't be able to go too long in France without having to eat frog legs.


I don't like to eat meat still attached to the bone in the first place, much less a little frog leg.

The frog legs were delicious.

Love Love
Lo

I’ll start with March 19^th. I went downstairs to have breakfast with Stéphanie and the twins… who reminded me that it was my birthday. Oops. I’m 21.

I’ve come to the conclusion that the French don’t take American cursing very seriously. For instance, at breakfast table that morning, Stéphanie was trying to explain an expression I wasn’t familiar with – Je m’en fous – which she said is the same as an American saying “I don’t give a fuck” …Right at the breakfast table with the children, like it was no biggie. And of course I realize that to some people saying that at breakfast could be the norm, but not this family. More proof to my theory is the fact that children walk around saying “shit” like it’s no big deal. However, as soon as they say “merde”, they get smacked upside the head.

After breakfast Stéphanie took me shopping at a mall for a present. Now, what they call a “mall” is actually French name-brand couture. Needless to say, I felt extremely awkward when Stéphanie asked me to pick something out. I got a hat. Next, we went to some shops that were more in my price range. I need some spring/summer clothes because I realized as soon as I got here that my clothes are the same as wearing a bright-ass shirt saying, “Look at me. I’m a foreigner.” After some serious conversion from US to EU sizes, I discovered that even though I am considered a 29 in US, I’m a 40 in EU… And I wasn’t even having a fat-day. Then it was time for the shoes... and though I’m a 9 ½ in US, overnight I jumped all the way to 41 in EU. It so happens that the majority of stores don’t carry women sizes above 40. They like their women petites. Here’s the thing. I know I’m freakishly tall. It took me years to accept it. Now, I’ve become self-conscious again because I’m almost positive I’m in the top-ten tallest people in France. I constantly get stares and I can’t tell if it’s because I’m too tall or too obviously American.

A fun thing about their indoor malls – they play popular American songs. It was crazy to be in a store and hear all these French girls singing Kesha and Far East Movement. Naturally, I started singing along as well, and got several strange looks because I don’t have a French accent and was pronouncing the words correctly.

All in all, I had an amazing birthday. That night we had 2 different cakes and I opened my presents – the hat, and Stéphanie had also bought me some perfume. The cool thing about it – it’s made completely from natural products and is biologically safe. Not to mention it smells fantastic.