Earlier this week I got a surprise email from my last-year host family saying that they'd received a letter for me. They invited me over to lunch to pick it up and to catch up, so I went Saturday.

I was pretty nervous. Last year when I lived with them I was so lost in my own little MOR world that I basically locked myself in my messy little room to the point where I skipped meals and spent entire days lying in bed knitting and internetting. I've become convinced that they thought I was crazy. I also barely spoke to them because I was so flustered and weird all the time and I felt bizarrely guilty for living in their house.

Anyway, but I headed on over there, delighted at how automatically I was able to retrace my steps, and when I arrived I was only awkward for a few minutes before we were all just great friends. We gossipped about everything from the students they're hosting this year to my current host family to their own experiences as au pairs (both the daughter, who's my age, and the mother have done au pair work). I stayed three hours and they congratulated me over and over on my French.

I spend so much time around my current host family that I've wound up with some form of Stockholm Syndrome. I figure that the problem is me and assume that the whole world is like that and I just need to lower my expectations, but for the third time (German Lara's family, boyfriend's family, now this) I've discovered (and been surprised to realize) that I'm actually pretty charming and people DO usually like me. With my current host family I'm the shy introverted weirdo who doesn't understand the glory of organized sports and can't entertain herself doing normal things like throwing a ball at someone. I'm the loser who wastes all her time on the computer and doesn't care about her own security to the point where she puts pictures of herself online. And yet when I'm around anybody else I feel like a confident, organized, daring adventurer who knows how to be polite and respectful but can also talk for ages on most subjects--in French if necessary.

My old host family complimented my French over and over, by the way. I told them that one of my first conversations with my new host mom had been her telling me that my French was nowhere near as good as the last-year au pair's and that my accent was so strong it was hard to understand me. The old host family all disagreed resoundingly (my professor had the same reaction to that story) telling me that I was easy to understand and they had barely noticed any grammar mistakes. They were all assuring me that I spoke quickly and well and they were incredibly impressed with the progress I've made in the past year.

I felt so great leaving there, even after the conversation had tipped to politics (first round of elections are today!) and I found out that I was sitting in a very right-wing Sarkozy-friendly living room. I'm pretty sure Hollande will take this one. Which is good, because Sarko wants to make it really hard for foreigners to study in France or to get citizenship here. Gah Sarko. My professer likes to say "Si Sarkozy repasse, je me casse" which is basically if Sarkozy gets re-elected I'm getting the hell out. It's cute.

What am I talking about? Oh yeah! So I've been worrying about August, because I leave my current host family at the end of July and the only foyer (public dorm) I've found that's open over the summer is asking for €665 a month. If I study I won't get into a cheaper foyer until September, and if I au pair again the family probably won't need me until around the same time, if not a bit later. Old host family to the rescue! They're going out of town all summer for a daughter's wedding in Italy, so they offered to let me stay alone in their three-story house (with piano, four bedrooms, and an awesome kitchen) for only €300. I haven't said yes yet, but I feel pretty sure I will.

Now I just need to make sure I'm allowed to enroll at St-Denis (Paris VIII) to get my masters and I've got it all figured out!
I realized today that it won't be long till I can count down my number of days in the United States by Doctors.  I am overjoyed but a little bit terrified.  I'm going to have to figure out the metric system for real and start putting the date in front of the month.  I'll bid Kraft Mac and Cheese adieu, but at least I'll be getting avocados and good cheese and muesli crostillante again... om nom nom.  And paninis.  Oh how I have missed all the cheap amazing food that France offers.  Smoked salmon and goat cheese on my pizza.  I am gonna eat lunch at CROUS all the time and see if that creepy guy in the steak-frites room still creeps on me.

Monday was my visa appointment.  Here is the saga of my hideous experience at the Atlanta consulate last year.

This year, I was quiet most of the drive down there since my iPod has been broken since January, we saw The Help at that movie theatre and I had a smoked salmon BLT, we stayed in the same snazzy Holiday Inn (reminded me of the one the Troupe stayed in in Caen when Flo dragged me into the cast partyyy), and after waiting for so many hours last year I had made my appointment this year for 9am.

There is a lot less paperwork for the au pair visa than for the student visa, so I was a little more confident this time.  My pictures were European passport pictures from one of those machines in the Châtelet métro station, meaning they weren't the size you'd get from Walgreens or whatever, but the guy accepted them without question.

My appointment was the first one that morning, but the guy waited until 9:45 before calling me up.  This year though, used to a life of patiently stagedooring with no iPod, I wasn't afraid to start chatting with the other people who were waiting.  I cracked jokes at the consulate's expense under my breath and before long I was kind of the centre of attention.  It was pretty great.  Last year most of the room was filled with uncomfortable, nervous silence.  This year I had everyone chatting about their plans and how long the paperwork takes like old friends.

When the guy finally called my name (Ehreen!!!!) I tried to stay calm while he went through all my paperwork, and eventually he said that he needed my flight itinerary (wtf that was not on the website) and I could go across the way to print it.  We finished everything else first and I speedwalked into a nearby swanky hotel where a series of employees eventually led me to a printing station thing.  I printed the flight itinerary, thanked everyone, and went rushing back to the French consulate.  I had to wait forever for the people whose appointment was after mine, since they were trying to get the girl a student visa (awful!) and were missing bank statements, birth certificates, proof of the existence of a host family, and all sorts of nonsense.  They took forever.  Three times the guy behind the window asked them to go sit down and they refused, saying they were almost done with the missing paperwork.

Finally they went away and I hopped up to the window, scooting my flight itinerary through, and he stuck it into my waiting file and thanked me.  In the elevator on the way down there was a French couple trying to figure out which button was American for "rez-de-chaussée," and I went ahead and pressed the L for them.  The guy looked at me awkwardly and went "C'est celle-là?" in a way that suggested he didn't think I knew French but surely that sentence would translate.  I grinned and went "Pour sortir? Oui!" and he looked so relieved.


That is another reason why I need to skype that Frenchman asap.

Anyway we gave them an expensive overnight mailing envelope, so I think I'll have that visa soon!

I was quiet most of the way back too, we stopped at Ruby Tuesdays again and I got a freakin delicious quesadilla with avocado and bacon and chicken in it, and all was well.

Next stop... Paris!  My new host dad is going to be waiting at the airport on Saturday, September 10th.  Oh Paris my Paris how I have missed you.
 Spent most of the day problem-solving.  Kind of.

Called my mom and talked about getting me a bike to ease the transitions between buses and such (thanks for that suggestion, I don't know why but I NEVER would have thought of that).  Everyone around here has a bike.  There are bike rack things on the buses.  She's gonna look into it, especially since she's kinda wanting a bike too so if I move in January I can just give her the bike.

Talked to Sherry.  She says if she does move in it won't be till August and she didn't seem super thrilled about sharing a room and I was like I'LL GO SLEEP IN THE LIVING ROOM AND JUST LEAVE MY STUFF IN HERE SERIOUSLY THE LIVING ROOM IS BIG ENOUGH I JUST CAN'T AFFORD THIS and she was like hmmmm well it IS a pretty good option.

Meanwhile I remembered that I was gonna sell dolls and if I do that I'll be charging for the French/European fans in euros, so with about six dolls (each doll takes about two days) I have a month's rent.  So I went ahead and opened a fanpage on facebook and I'm gonna start selling them soon.  Gotta finalise my pricing ideas in my head.

The page is here.  Like it and tell your friends to like it.  I don't limit my doll-knitting to MOR, you know.  I started this with Doctor Who dolls, remember?  I'll knit absolutely anything you send me a picture of, provided I have the right yarn.  And I have a TON of yarn.  I have gold.  I'll knit an Enjy vest if you want.

My mom told me that if I find myself a sure job in France she'll pay for me to get my work visa and she'll pay for the plane ticket to get me there.  A fan's mom offered me an assistant teaching position an hour and a half out of Paris, but ideally my dream would be to get back to my city.  I even miss battling tourists on my way to class.  So I was looking at websites for other teaching positions for private institutions IN Paris (preferrably ones that teach adults due to my issues with patience) and... I found this site.


There are FIVE of this company in Paris.  Granted I'm not finding any sort of job application section on the site, but SOMEBODY has to be doing that translating.  More importantly, if this company exists, others do too.  THIS IS A JOB THAT EXISTS.  LET ME DO IT.  Translating French stuff to English is basically MY DREAM JOB.  I'm not afraid to be a substitute teacher on the side.  Subs make like 35/hour in France apparently.  I'll put up signs in tabacs offering to proofread English homework and stuff too.  I did it for my host sister, I'll do it for strangers.

Basically, for the first time I see a job that seems like something I would be good at, something I'm qualified for, and something I would enjoy.  Literally for the first time since I picked French as my major.


Except um clearly I'm not going to be moving to France RIGHT NOW or anything... but Phoebe graduates next year and she's been looking for jobs too.


I'm a little teeny teeny bit reluctant to make any of this an official plan because I wonder if this homesickness will wear off and I'll develop, like, Stockholm Syndrome for America.  I don't know, maybe it'll be okay and I'll decide I like it here.  There were things about America that I missed while I was in France... I just find I miss the France things much much more when I'm here.  I felt like a badass every day.  And I already know the métro like the back of my hand...
I'm kind of falling apart.  Maybe all this tour stalking has finally caught up to me.  Obviously my personal life has me on an emotional rollercoaster again and I'm constantly at war with myself over my decisions and that's just concerning me and myself and my choices.

I am a terrible student. )

Yet when I show up at the hoteldoor I feel like the best person ever.  I recognise almost all of the hardcore fans and I like them all (even though they don't seem to like each other).  I love using bus maps to find my way around a new town and I love that moment when I use the strange key to open the door to my hotel room and see where I'll be crashing for the next two nights.  I love dozing off with my mouth open on the train.  I love that funny noise the machine makes when I stick my train ticket in and I love handing the contrôleur my carte 12-25.  I always come home with new French phrases and new facebook friends and, most importantly, flotos.  The Troupe knows me, a bunch of them call me by name, at least two of them have read my lj and at least one regularly stalks my facebook.  Three have tried to get me free tickets to the show.  As for the fans, in Rouen some of them wanted pictures with ME, one told me she could find me a job if I ever wanted to come back to France, several have told me I'm welcome to stay with them if I ever need a roof over my head in various cities, all of them are willing to give me rides in their car when my hotel is an hour and a half away on foot...  People want to buy dolls from me, people try to commission other knitted stuff, it's ridiculous.

Maybe that's why I've completely stopped caring about classes.  My friends back home just graduated and I'm stuck in class limbo for a few more weeks.  And then I have to start real life and I have to just go to work every day and pay bills and reread my own lj entries and remember that for one year in France I was a legend.  For one year in France my life was indescribable.  For one year I lived in fangirl heaven.

For anybody who was with me when I left for Christmas break, when I thought that without the Palais des Sports every night my world was over... get ready for all that angst to crank up again.  Times a hundred.
It has been quite some time since I made an entry that was, like, journal-y and not OMG THIS IS MY LIFE-y.  So while I'm sitting here with facebook open in another tab hoping Patrice Maktav looks down and sees my little avatar glowing and online-y and stuff amidst his three thousand facebook friends and then decides he wants to say something to me, I shall record some thoughts.

I was like thirty minutes late to class the other day, as usual, but it was particularly bad this time because we had an exam and I happened to walk in a few minutes after she collected it.  Pffft.  And then I was like, Well at least I'll learn SOMETHING in the remaining hour and a half.  Joke's on me, because then she passed out a passage from some French novel called less miserable or something and we had to read about some church guy giving candlesticks to some prison guy.  At least I wowed everyone by being able to rattle off the bishop's full name or whatever.

It got me thinking though and I totally had a revelation!  It might be a naw dip moment for the people who still play in the LM fandom, but I am slow and never picked up on this.

The scene where Montparnasse fails at robbing Valjean?  Is an echo of the scene where Valjean fails at robbing the bishop.  It goes down almost the exact same way with the old dude hiding a surprise (mega strength for one, mega power for the other in that he's actually a bishop and not a curé), the young guy getting preached at (Valjean got the better end of the stick in this regard), and then the would-be robber being given what it was he wanted to steal.  The difference?  After Valjean reflects, he becomes a super saint.  After Montparnasse reflects, he's like WHATEVS BRING ME ANOTHER HOOKER.

Anyway, I'm sure we could deeply analyse why the conversion worked for Valjean and not Montparnasse but I have a really short attention span.

When I am at the stage door, I can just GO OFF in French with the French fans.  Sure it's not perfect, but I can at least pretend to be confident.  Plus I've been posting a lot more on the MOR forum and since all the people who care about the MOR aspect of my life are French, I do most of my facebooking in French.  I first realised I had this power in Lille.  I don't remember transitioning from the awkward American who was ashamed to say a sentence into a MOR groupie whose Sorbonne professor told her "Vous avez bien maitrisé la langue!" even after she showed up to class forty-five minutes late for the third time that week.  In Bruxelles I didn't speak English all day (except twice on the train to Flo) and ever since I've found myself thinking in French here and there.  In fact, I have a class taught in English this semester, and for the midterm we had to do an essay, and TWICE I got pissed because there was a phrase I wanted to put in French and I couldn't figure out how to say it as gracefully in English.  I mean, it's been a full year since I had classes taught in English, so it just seems weird to do homework and essays and stuff in anything but French.  It's like English is the cheater language that you speak when you're being crude and lazy or something.

This is a weird thing.  Since Maktav stole me from Flo one week ago, I have been slowly returning to normalcy... or at least, the closest thing to normalcy that one could ever hope for from me.  I realised that I had been listening to the same twenty songs over and over for the past few months and I put all my other songs back in my iTunes--Cali, Take That, the PRC, Máté, The Ark, Repo... it was like some kind of beautiful family reunion!  Plus I no longer roll around my room being like FLOOOO DOESN'T LOVE YOOUUUUU HE'S GOING TO MOVE TO AMERICAAA WITH MEEEE or whatever was going on in my twisted brain.

I don't love Maktav in like a creepily gazing at pictures of him kind of way, but in a OMG SQUEE I WANT TO GIVE YOU A HUG kind of way.  I want to go to Cardiff with him and geek out in French and hear him pronounce "Raxicoricofallapatorious" with a French accent.  Or even "Harkness" actually.  Dang I gotta talk about this stuff to him to his face just to hear how he's saying it.  It will be SO CUTE.  I can't wait to give him that hat.

However as I rebound away from Flo I find myself being hard on him.  It's what happens when I come off an intense crush.  And then I feel bad, because it's not Flo's fault that I'm leaving him!  He was the same this past weekend as always!  He even admitted he loves me and he's smiling HUGELY in one of my Flotos.  It's just that I saw people whose behaviour was even more excellent and put Flo into a different perspective.  I mean, I understand that Flo doesn't think he could hang with me the way Maktav did because Flo would expect girls to jump all over him or something.  But the thing is, Mikele was hanging with the girls at the hotel door that night.  He just sort of chatted and showed off and everyone was delighted by him.  He did not get molested or harmed in any way.  In fact, he seemed to enjoy himself.  But we all know Flo would NEVER do something like this.  He's no fun.  I mean, okay fine he has personal boundaries and he's incredibly shy but like.  It is not good for me to pine over a human and convince myself that it might lead to ANYTHING more than his hand on my shoulder when we take a picture.

And with Maktav, I don't really want anything more than for him to be nice to me and to care about me.  And I mean CLEARLY that is already happening.  He is SO NICE and he's the one who started our first facebook chat and asked if I got home okay!  HE ASKED IF I GOT HOME OKAY.  I'm not just a slightly-paler face in a crowd of screaming fangirls to Maktav.  He knows my name, he talks to me on facebook, he helps me hand out dolls to the rest of the cast... it's like he needs love and I am basically a human bundle of obsessiveness that needs something to latch onto.  What a perfect fangirl/celebrity relationship!

Anyway I have lost my train of thought.

Can anyone help me think of a catchy and preferrably punny name for my future knitting enterprise?  I got nothing.
 I am pretty darn happy right now.

You guys, one of the Belgian fans just sent me a letter--like, written on paper and stamped and stuff--and it's quite possibly the sweetest thing I've ever seen ever.  I almost wept when I read it and I was on a train at the time...  I'm gonna transcribe it here because it delighted me so much I don't even know what to do with myself.

It was stuck inside a greeting card that says "Bin alors?! Tu nous quittes?!!!" and "Loin des yeux..." on the front, then "...mais jamais loin du coeur, hein?!... Bonne chance... et donne de tes nouvelles souvent!!" with a picture of a mouse holding up a sign that says "Grosses bises!!" Then she wrote on the inside of the card "Salut miss, je te souhaite beaucoup de bonheur, de joie, de chance, plein de belles rencontres avec Flo et la troupe! Gros bisous"

Then she stuck in a bunch of red feathers, which I only kind of understand but I support because feathers are pretty glam.

And THEN there's this letter which is the part that made me tear up.  She's SO NICE.

"Coucou Erin,

Comment vas tu depuis dimanche? Bien j'espère! En tout cas, vraiment enchantée d'avoir fait ta connaissance! Sincèrement!

Je voulais te féliciter, te dire combien tu m'as épatée!  Venant de si loin pour faire des études, loin des tiens, de tes amis, de ta famille: je dis chapeau bas, miss! Tu forces mon admiration!

Tu n'as pas peur de voyager seule d'un pays à l'autre, quel courage! En plus de toutes ces qualités tu es super douée pour faire tes poupées, elles sont trop belles!  Bravo!

J'espère qu'on aura la chance de se revoir, enfin si tu le veux bien sûr!  Si tu reviens en Belgique, tu es la bienvenue chez moi!  Je t'accueillerai chez moi avec ma petite famille avec le pus grand plaisir! On t'héberge à la maison.  C'est la campagne mais on est pas loin des villes.

C'était trop super dimanche!  À 19h, je n'étais pas avec [les autres] car j'avais pris ma place plus tard qu'elles mais finalement je ne regrette pas.  J'ai bien vu les décors.  C'est trop fabuleuse!  Ils sont tous super!  Super beaux, super talentueux, super tout!  Dommage que ça va bientôt se terminer!  J'ai su avoir quelques autographes mais il m'en manque.  Et toi, en as-tu?  J'aimerais bien me faire un beau cadre avec des photos de la troupe et leurs signatures mais on verra.  En tout cas super que Flo te reconnaisse!  Tu le mérite vraiment!  J'espère que tu auras encore beaucoup d'occasions de le revoir et de l'offrir encore tes jolies poupées.  J'espère que ton séjour à Strasbourg se passera bien, je penserai à toi.  D'ici d'avoir de tes nouvelles, je t'envoie quelques plumes, qui je l'espère te portent bonheur!

Gros bisous ma belle et à très bientôt j'espère!"

How absolutely sweet is that??  Now I have to break into my tiny everything-that-isn't-MOR-including-food budget so I can write her back.  Awww!

On top of that, everybody has been complimenting my French this week!  The fans in Bruxelles, for starters, then the Swedish girl (she's kind of my host sister, I guess?)'s father, who is a French teacher in fact, and even my strict professor at the Sorbonne!  It makes me feel like I'm actually learning stuff here other than how to not feel weird about standing around an actor's hotel like a groupie from the eighties.

AND THEN there's the fact that I did my exposé today in grammar class.  Any subject in the world, talk for fifteen minutes, and GO.  Well duh there's only one subject in my mind ever.  I even brought one of my posters and taped it up to the board while I talked.  I played a snippet of Tatoue-moi and another of C'est bientôt la fin, and after class two girls (one from Korea and one from Russia) asked me if I could send them links or something because they effing LOVED what they heard.  AW YEAH.  The Korean girl already tracked me down on facebook, so I linked her to all the music videos and ten minutes later she had reposted Tatoue-moi to her profile.


And it's awesome.

(Plus I finished the dress of my next doll!  It wasn't as wretched as I expected it to be!)
So in my French pronunciation class with that doddery old professor whom I adore, we sometimes listen to popular songs and, on lucky days, watch the music video.

This is the first music video we watched, and I immediately became addicted to this song and now listen to it approximately a trillion times a day.  And I have a vague love for Cali's eyes.

If you don't know French, he's Marius'ing over some girl who might have looked his way a few days ago.  And apparently it's his birthday, idk.

And today we watched this video.

I immediately hate this Bénabar guy.  He's perhaps the most punchable person I've ever seen.  I appreciate that he's environmentally aware, but honestly... ugh, just look at him.

And now I've decided that I desperately want Cali to fight Bénabar.  Just... imagine Bénabar smarming down a sidewalk in his suit with his short hair and his douchey eyes, and Cali just pops out of an alley with his guitar and slams it over Bénabar's head.  And then uses his magical flying instruments to deliver a beatdown.

Okay, that's all I had to say.
lesmisloony: (lol amadeus)

Two posts in one day!


This isn't necessarily my favourite song, but it is My Song.  And I'm amazed at all the nonsense I just found on youtube.

And I need you now tonight! )

And I found this website:  http://lulz.mn/totaleclipseoftheworld/
It basically lists all the languages in which the song has been performed and seems to have links, but I'm late to work and can't click any of them...

Silly people with youtube accounts and similar minds have done "covers" of it...

And I need you more than ever! )

There are also fanvids set to this song for every fandom I've ever had.  Not necessarily great vids, but nevertheless...

And if you only hold me tight... )

And here's something fantastic with which I leave you:

We'll be holdin' on forever! )
I'm in such a good place (geographically and emotionally) that I basically never feel the need to complain about life to you guys.  And when something fandom-y happens I have a flesh and blood person to talk to, because three of my friends watch Doctor Who and one watches the Mighty Boosh and all those other quiz show type things... plus one of my rl friends knows musicals.  The only thing I can't squee over with my hallmates is Les Mis, but for that I have Abaissé.  So yeah, I don't have any need to angst about anything.  And when I'm happy I don't have that much to say on livejournal.

Okay... so here's a picture I drew of Captain Jack Harkness.

Well, I found these clips on youtube yesterday and they made me happy.

Docteur... je vous aime... )

And I had a dream that I met David Tennant and we were holding hands.  And then Kelley texted me from the next room and told me to ask him to get us tickets to see the series finale of Secret Diary of a Call Girl (which is a live show in my dream, I guess) so David Tennant started haggling with Billie Piper over whether there were any tickets left.  Then I decided to go to bed.  David Tennant joined me (in a decidedly cute but non-sexy way) and used my snuggie as a blanket.  Then he grinned at me all guiltily and said, "I think I peed the bed."  And it was true.  So I got up and started pulling the sheets of the bed to wash them, but David Tennant started complaining because he just wanted to go to sleep.  I said "You cannot sleep in your own filth, David Tennant!" but he said that it was three in the morning and it was time for bed.  I snapped, "You can travel in time!" and then my Dalek alarm clock woke me up.

I wanted to share that dream because it's hilarious and horrifying.  And because I now have a mental image of David Tennant, wrapped up in a Snuggie, grinning and saying "I think I peed the bed." My life has changed.

Also, just to clarify to the world.  When it comes to Doctor Who, series two is my favourite series.  But Nine is my favourite Doctor.  But Tennant is my favourite person.  I have so much love to distribute evenly to everyone but River Song.

Whoops, I was going to end the post there but now I'm still talking.

Being Human is getting more and more upsetting but also more and more addictive.  I'm glad Mitchell is being a normal vampire, but I'm also distressed that he's doing it out of anger and not for the lulz.  But thank GOODNESS he knows about the Purple-Face Beeyotch now.  Maybe he can hurry up and save Allons-y George and stat.  Also, the end of the last episode had that Miserere Mei that plays in the Les Mis video game when you go up to heaven to ask for Victor Hugo's help.  I know because I (shockingly) need a lot of help when I play that game.  And because my game used to freeze there a lot.  Still, it's a gorgeous song and I love it now.

By the way, for those of you who aren't Kelley, I'm calling Lucy a Purple-Face Beeyotch because she's also the actress from Shadow in the North whose obnoxiousness was responsible for a death that made Billie Piper sad.  And because she literally had a purple face in that movie.  And because whenever she's in a show she ruins everything.  She made Billie Piper sad and she made Mitchell evil and soon she's going to make George dead.  I can't even deal with the Purple-Face Beeyotch all up in my sexy vampire.

Also, we had a costume party this past weekend which was ridiculously fun.  I dressed up as Fantine.  Unfortunately, all of the pictures are unflattering and in going through them I was launched into a depression that lasted almost twelve hours, but I'm okay now.

Here is the picture that shows off the costume really well but also makes me look like a lardo.

But the pearls were in her mouth...? )

I guarantee that my chin isn't usually that... well, that.  I was doing my consumption cough into my bloodstained handkerchief.

Oh, and for the record, I made the cap and the stays I'm wearing here.  I'm proud of that.  The skirt is left over from high school, the shirt came from eBay, and the boa came from Hobby Lobby.  The handkerchief was from Hobby Lobby as well, and I smeared red food colouring all over it.

Okay, I think I'm done posting to livejournal now.

One-point-five months till Doctor Who comes back!
lesmisloony: (amazing Richmond)
So far this semester is absolutely amazing.  I have one class on Mondays, which is at 2:00, two classes on Tuesdays (12:30 and 3:30), and then I add a class at 3:00 to Wednesdays and a recitation at 5:00 to Thursdays.  And there's nothing on Friday.  NOTHING.

I'm unofficially in a single room, so I stay up late watching things like Secret Diary of a Call Girl or just listening to my iTunes, and then I sleep in as late as I want without hearing feet shuffle or keyboard keys or the fridge door squeaking open.  In fact, I've got my own fridge, and it's crammed full of yoghurt, skim milk, cheese, hot dogs, those amazing Deli Creations flatbread things, and, of course, ranch dressing.  All the essentials.

My room is also organised awesomely such that I have an open space right under the disco ball.  I call it my dance floor, and last night all of my favourite people on the hall convened for a dance party that lasted at least an hour.  It was exhausting and wonderful.  My favourite part was when we all belted Assasymphonie and Kat came running in pretending to slit her wrists with a paintbrush (in lieu of a baton).  Then I pretended to be one of those blindfolded flail-y dancers for a while behind her.  It was good times.  Oh, wait, my other favourite part was when Kat and Leigh each took the dance party up a level, literally, by climbing up on to the empty bed and doing a series of bizarre dances that were hilarious and mortifying.  Or when Kelley came in and calmly munched an apple while the rest of us spazzed out.  Anna and I bonded over not knowing any songs until we hear the refrain and Sarah O impressed us all by apparently knowing every song ever.  And Asian Becca dancing with Anna is simultaneously one of the cutest and most unsettling things I've ever seen.  R.A. Becca even joined us briefly, but then she slumped away to do homework.  Oh, and Tara discovered her latent DJ skillz!  Except one dance party will get Bad Romance stuck in your head for the rest of your life.  Also, my adorable little rug (which has giant water stains on the bottom for which I  was certainly not responsible--this is my not funny face) managed to migrate halfway across the room due to the dancing.

I also have this little space behind my dressers and under the empty bed that is really fun to crawl into.  All the cool kids are doing it.  So much fun.  And so pointless.

Also!  Tara, Leigh, and Kelley all watched Doctor Who over the break, so now people are actually noticing that I spend about a third of any conversation quoting and making references to Doctor Who.  It's always a little surprising (and delightful!) to hear someone actually laugh or say "I see what you did there!" after I mumble "Trust me on this," or "Chan, is this a tradition amongst your people, tho?"  Or whatever.

As for the actual school part of school, I've only been to three classes so far.  

One is a Global Issues class whose professor seems like one of those people who grow great vegetables and wears toe socks around the house.  The first day was learning about how Disney is a terrible douchebag company that exploits Haitians.  I'm so worried that this class will turn me off of WalMart.  I know WalMart is evil, but it's also where I get all of my food and most of my clothes!  I need it in my life.  Don't take it from me, Global Issues Class.

I also have two French classes.  My French pronunciation class is with this amazing old guy who got a doctorate at Harvard and speaks three languages.  I had him for history of the French language last year, and I'm genuinely only taking this class because he's teaching it.  And I recognised several people who were in my class last year who were coming back for the same reason.  He's adorable.  He's also the one who told me Victor Hugo thought they were going to rename Paris "Hugo, France." I haven't heard that anywhere else, but I choose to believe it.  Ol' Vic's ego is legendary.  It just makes sense.  Also, I love this professor.  He shuffles around the classroom bumping into desks, but he makes jokes under his breath and you just know he's an absolute genius.  As for my other French class, it's taught by one of the heads of the French department, and she speaks VERY QUICKLY.  It's about francophone Africa, which isn't exactly my cup of tea, but we get to read a book called "Tintin au Congo" for class Friday and just by the cover it looks delightfully un-PC.

So that's school so far!  I've already spent a lot of time lying across the futon showing clips of things to my friends.  And Kelley and I have made a pact to watch Ruby in the Smoke and Shadow in the North at some point this week.  We gotta get our Matt Smith love ready for series five!
  • 13:40 Hahaha nobody wants to work with me on the argot project. GOOD. #
  • 15:37 I like my men how I like my CheezIts. Pasty, square, thin, cheesy, angular... #
  • 22:57 WTF I can't believe this. Total Eclipse of the Heart is used in Tanz der Vampire?? WHICH ONCE STARRED MATE KAMARAS?? BRIGHT EYES IN GERM ... #
  • 13:50 More nerdiness: We saw a map of dialecty regions of France in class and I was picking out Gillenormand's servants. Basque! Poitevin! (etc) #
  • 15:28 Listening to Der letzte Tanz on the way to class. Want to do Mate's awkward dance right here on South Road. Resisting. #
  • 17:46 Wanted to take a bus to work due to blistery feet. Ended up running two blocks to catch the bus. What did I accomplish? #
This is the TEST shipment you asked for

  • 13:48 I found out I can do my big huge FREN 564 presentation on argot and I'm literally, physically shaking with joy. Is that nerdy? #
  • 14:03 Still shaking. God I need a life. #
  • 21:26 Mate Kamaras. Der Letzte Tanz. Youtube it. #
This is the last line of my French paper:

Le comte est patient, fidèle, et plein d’abnégation en ce qui concerne la princesse de Montpensier, mais il essaie d’oublier son amour pour lui en réprimant ses passions, et à la fin il est mort sans un ami, pleine de solitude et de misère.

Yayyy geekdom.

Speaking of LM-related geekdom, we're reading Andromaque.  I almost passed out when I noticed two characters' names in particular.

Having finished my paper, I'm off to make Rochester and Jane in the Sims.  And I'm going to make Bertha Mason, but I'm going to put her upstairs and take out the staircase.  I don't know if that's possible or not.  Also, I fully expect her to burn the whole house down.  Because the firemen won't be able to get up there.  And because she's Bertha Mason.

Yayyy geekdom.

ETA: A meme!  I like it a lot.

Though May Contain Nuts is way better... )

I think that came together kind of amazingly. I'd buy it.
Okay. First, I'm really really annoyed. And my annoyance is with my creative writing professor.
Dear Mr Professor: )

Yayy I feel better. Now...

More Eponine Thoughts! And the OFCA. )

My French grammar class is a very textbook sort of class, taught by the lady who actually WROTE the textbook we'd been using since forever ago, right? I like her. She looks like a small Blon Fel Fotch Passameer Day Slitheen, actually, (in Margaret form: I'm not saying my French teacher is a big slimy green alien) but she's rather friendly. Still, the class is usually quite serious.



If you don't speak French, she's basically like, "Hi, I'm Mrs Vandertramp! Let me tell you why the name of our town has changed!" and then she goes outside and her neighbour is like "Our baby was born! Come look at it!" and she goes, "Oh, it's not a normal baby!" and then it turns out the mother is a t-rex named Betty. I DON'T EVEN KNOW.

And then her cat gets stuck on the roof and by the time the fire truck gets there it gets down by itself.

And then some random diabolic villain comes in and says "THIS TOWN IS MINE NOW!" but is defeated by Betty! Which is why the town is now called Bettyville.


Other amazing ways to learn the Vandertramp verbs:

The Umbrella Song This one is actually really cool. The following ones are a bit lame.
A Rap Performed by an Obnoxious Chunky Kid
Something About a Pedophile and a Battle with Homework

Also my roommate is very sick and has a horrible cough and I'm worried about her cos I love her.

Also I started watching Merlin and it's loltastic.

January 2017

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