Kinda sore...

Ever since I started working full time, I've been looking for ways to work out here! My one problem is that running is almost out of the question because I don't wake up early enough to go before work, summers are pass-out-hot here and I work until it's super dark during at night during the winter and I refuse to go alone.

So I've tried the 24 Hour Fitness near me, but it's kind of sketch. And ended up costing me a lot of money I wasn't willing to spend on something I could essentially do for free if I had the motivation. Which is why I got pretty excited about all my Wii workout games that I got for Christmas. But I ran into yet another problem - I go on the road often and I work so late sometimes that when I come home I just want to veg out or read or not get all sweaty and nasty so I'm taking two-to-three showers a day.

So yesterday, I found a solution to my almost year-long problem now: I work in an athletics department! Our athletes have a strength and conditioning coach and a weight room accessible virtually 24/7. And during the lunch hour, those athletes don't have scheduled training sessions!

During our "lunch break" yesterday, a couple of co-workers, some softball coaches and I all made our way down to the weight room for a lunch sesh with the conditioning coach, who is essentially serving as our personal trainer for the time being!

What we're going to aim to do two times a week is TRX Suspension Training. What that is, is basically a pulley device with handles and stirrups designed for various workouts that use your body's weight naturally in resistance against your workout positions. He has them attached to taller weight machines, so we have our own personal workout spaces. And MAN is that a workout! We were all dripping after just an hour with it yesterday.


But the best part - still haven't reached it yet! - is that Tony's making up circuits and reps specifically for us! Starting off slowly and introducing more and more elements as we progress. Yesterday we started with squats, lunges, push-ups, pull-ups and leg curls. All that happened after 15 minutes on stationary bicycles and plank exercises to warm up our cores.

Only one day and I'm already super sore - but in a good way! I'm actually pretty excited to keep this up because a.) I want to tone up! and b.) this doesn't take away ANY time in my day. I can come home and do whatever I want, guilt free without that nagging voice in the back of my head telling me I need to exercise today :)

Now back to the dog front... I'm not sure it's going to work out :( and I'm super super bummed about that. As soon as I emailed the lady about her dogs, she happily gave me her phone number and told me she'd love to meet with me. But when I brought up the prospect of heading up to see all the dogs this weekend, she hadn't responded to my email in two days. So I figured I'd give her a call when I got off work last night - after all, she did give me her phone number - and still no response. Who doesn't answer their cell phone these days?!

I just want a puppy, is that too much to ask?!?! Wish me luck......

New hair

You know how when you have a hairstyle in mind, and the stylist pulls it off, you can't EVER recreate it at home??

Yeah, that's where I'm at right now.

Yesterday I went into my local Aveda Salon (love that place) and brought in this picture of Carrie Underwood (disregard the deodorant gooeyness) for my stylist:


I had hair a little bit longer than that and my layers were way mangled from going over five months without a cut/trim.

As soon as my stylist saw this picture she told me, "Yeah, we aren't going to be able to do that to you. And I think she has a lot of fake hair involved in that style."

Ugggh!

Basically, in order to achieve layers that dramatic, my hair would look as thin as a midlife balding male. And yes, I do concede that a lot of what I like about this look is done by styling and not the cut itself.

For me to get that look, she said she could cut off some of the length and maybe it could grow into that look. But instead, it ended up turning out like this (which I can't really recreate on my own, it's just kind of blah):


I wish I had more chunky layers and less feathery blending going on. Gosh, being a girl's frustrating! ...At least the style only cost me $25, including a scalp/neck/hand massage and a sweet herbal wrap after they washed my hair.

I told you I love Aveda.

(P.S. Get ready for January. It's the NaBloPoMo's continuation month. November is National Blog Posting Month, so January is like a challenge for the new year: blog every day. Since I failed so miserably at that last time, I'm up for the challenge in 2010. Especially with a "book club" [and I say that in the very loosest sense of the word] coming up on Jan. 1! Bring it on, year!)

Baseball crushes...

I am extremely unhappy with Billy Beane (GM of the Oakland Athletics) right now. He could have traded ANYONE on the team, but it HAD to be righty pitcher Rich Harden.


It HAD to be him.

Let's not forget how I've had a crush on Rich Harden since junior year of high school. That's SEVEN years of dedication here people. I also met him at the A's spring training camp in Phoenix my freshman, sophomore and senior years of college.

And now he's gone. Oh yeah, he also lives (livED excuse me) in Alamo behind my parents. Which means my dreams of working for the Oakland Athletics and meeting Rich Harden before his contract expires in 2009 are shot. Nada. I guess the only positive here is that the Cubs' spring training facilities are also in the Phoenix area. If we go next year, you KNOW I will be watching some Cubby games!

But all is not lost. Last night I was watching the A's game -- while working here at one of Pacific's youth soccer/recruiting camps -- and sort of fell in love instantly with their newest member, 24 year old Wes Bankston. He even hit a homer, good boy. (He's on the right in the photo below!)


So I guess it's a good thing I developed my mini crush yesterday, before we traded Harden this afternoon at 3 p.m. But, now what am I going to do with all my Harden jerseys?!?!?!?!?!

All good things must come to an end

Long story very, very short.

Now that my friends are here, my roommate troubles have exploded beyond all possible belief. I can't really get into too much detail about it right now because I'm not at home and have limited Internet time, but I believe I will be terminating my contract to teach here after Trimester 2.

Brief run-down: I have friends over for the rest of the week. My mom comes early next week. Then it's my spring break/end of the second trimester.

When spring break's over, I will be staying at my dad's house, hopefully with a flight to get back to California before the end of April in order to start my career search back up.

Either way, I have to be out of my house by the first week in April. And that's a personal choice, seeing as how I can no longer tolerate what's been going on and building up over the past two weeks.

I feel better about it already.

New Shows, Pronto!

Hearing that the writers' strikes are finally over, I immediately went to ABC.com to see when the next new Grey's Anatomy will air, so that way I could go download it somewhere online.

However, they're still running old episodes for quite a while. I think I'll stick to my original plan when I found out that the bastards at ABC.com don't let you watch episodes online if you're not in the United States, and just end up putting this season on my parents' Netflix account when/if I move back home to California this summer.

Oh well.

Though, I did find a neat little way to pass 10 minutes on the website: The Grey's Anatomy personality test. Don't judge.

Also, my Valentine's Day project is going quite smoothly in all my classes. Who knew arts and crafts -- such as designing pink and red hand-made heart cards -- in English takes up the entire class period?

Good thing there are TWO MORE holidays in March before we take our two weeks' vacation in April for SPRING BREAK '08. Germany and Spain, I'm ready for you!!

Daily Observations

-After gaining all that weight, I promised myself I'd reverse nature's punishment in 2008. That means, NO MORE SUGARS. After going completely nuts on cakes, cookies, pastries and candy bars, I'm now three days into no added sugars. I'm fine eating things like fruits, but no more chocolates!

-Long story short: Day 3 is taking its toll. I'm so co-dependent on sugar that I was light-headed and dizzy all morning. So I grabbed a handful of dried cranberries and hopefully that works.

-Monique is starting a big campaign for it to be spring already. So far, so good as it's nearly 60 degrees mid-morning. I've stopped wearing my jacket, while everyone else around me is all bundled up -- UNNECESSARILY! After weeks of yucky, freezing rain, I'm getting ready to start wearing sandals again.... if only in my head.

-When I return home in three weeks, I'm going to Santa Barbara for three days! I sort of landed a very casual "meeting" (since we're not calling it an interview) to see about having a job in June. Not really going to tell you too much about it, since I don't know myself, but it's a winery/cellar/event hosting-site in Santa Barbara and hopefully they need some PR/media people!

-This morning, I was going to take my usual mid-morning nap and as soon as I started to drift off, I was rudely "awoken" to a five-to-six minute blaring horn. Now I don't live on a very busy street, for those familiar with the area, it's akin to your Dublin/San Ramon Valley/Danville Blvd. stretch of road back at home. I guess the entire road was clogged for about a mile by parents picking their kids up from the middle school right next door to me. So instead of sitting and waiting patiently for 10 minutes, EVERYONE AND THEIR MOM decided to honk their horns. Not sure what that was about, but I can tell the buses are now late and the road's cleared up again.

-Teaching is coming along a little better. I think I was so overwhelmed because I didn't really have any classes planned since I was traveling nearly every weekend. But now I have free time and free weekends to dedicate to planning extra activities in my classes.

-And you know what, it's not worth it to get stressed over them!!! They're just elementary students (not even mine) for God's sake.... haha. So I'm just going into this all with, "Today's going to be fun. They're going to learn something."

-Yay for the Dollar-value going up! It's getting a little bit closer to the Euro again, though not by much. You know what, I'm willing to bet that it's not actually going up, but the Euro is going down. All stocks are down and many countries are blaming their dependency on the U.S. for that, so maybe they're starting to come back down to the Dollar's level. Either way, today would be a good day to withdraw from my American account, if I hadn't promised myself I wouldn't do it again back in October.

I SUCK at life!!

Really, I do.

Oh man, my phone fell out of my purse in my dad's car back in Toulon. So that means, no morning alarm for me. My roommate really saved me on this one, as he called her from my phone and she came to pick my up from the train station and she's going to wake me up tomorrow, ha.

...Come to think of it, possibly Tuesday too.

I swear -- to use a totally over-used cliche -- I'd lose my head if it wasn't screwed on tight. But I see where I get it from. Dad and I got our hair cut together yesterday, total bonding moment, and my digital camera was tucked away in my jacket pocket -- or so I thought. When she put the drape over me, the hairdresser put my jacket and shopping bag in the closet. As we're leaving, I reached into my pocket, then my purse and started to freak out because of course, the camera wasn't in either place!!

Turns out it was instead under the seat in my dad's car. Gosh, I don't ever drop things down there. But point of my story, as we returned to Jean-Claude's house, my dad had the same mental lapse. He started freaking out looking for his camera because he too thought it was gone. I think his car is a kleptomaniac, because his camera had also fallen into its depths. That glovebox is pretty deep.

And again this morning, after he put the camera inside of his suitcase, he couldn't seem to find it. But alas, it was in that darn bag all along. We really do make a fine pair.

But what I REALLY want to write about in this blog entry has nothing to do with me (and my dad for that matter) being a total mess. Nope.

It's about Miss France. Mees Frawnce.

Total joke. The best part about it was, actually there were two really good parts, French singer Johnny Hallyday's performance. I wish I could put into words what I saw. He's got to be in his 70s to start with and he's a total washup in my mind. Anyways, he actually sang during the performance but I swear to God, the man doesn't know how to play a guitar. He had three other people playing instruments with him, while he strummed his guitar -- infrequently. His left hand never once moved up or down, while with the pick in his right hand, he just kept going back and forth systematically. I'm pretty sure that was all for show.

The other amazing part of the night was the woman in charge of "cultivating" all the young competitors -- Geneviève de Fontenay.

Isn't she a looker?

Man I had nightmares from her. She only wears that hat and is completely plastered in make-up -- nay, face paint, like the stuff circus clowns put on. It seems as if she no longer has any hair, because it's pulled back so tightly as an alternative, or perhaps a supplement, to the years and years of Botox treatments this lady must be receiving. As a result of her hair like that, her eyes, mouth and cheeks are stretched very tightly to the sides and back of her face, like a circus clown's creepy smile once more. And because of all the stress she must be putting on her decrepit skin, her forehead has these terrible splotches all over the place.

I don't think I'd ever want, in my entire life, coaching lessons on how to win a BEAUTY pageant from this woman.

The best image I can conjure up would be just to leave you with one final question:

Have you ever seen the movie Death Becomes Her?

23 More Days Until France BANS Indoor Smoking! :)

- and -

16 DAYS UNTIL CHRISTMAS IN FRANCE!!

Forrest Gump was right

In a foreign land every day follows an up-and-down trajectory. "You never know what you're gonna get."

Some days, I can almost express myself in a satisfactory manner. Like the other night, when my roommate's "friend," who is a guy, but spent the night -- interesting story for another day, ask and I'll tell -- was basically hitting on me, saying I speak really good French. When I told him it's a constant struggle because I don't know a lot of really simple colloquial words and I choke them down with a truly American accent, he replied that it's part of my charm.

So I'm a cute foreigner?? I'll take that one.

Or yesterday, I was in the salle des maîtres (teachers' room) when one CE1 teacher asked me how my first few days have been going. I didn't want to complain too much, but I told her classes are very fun, yet simultaneously challenging because none of the younger kids understand my accent. Again, she said that's a good thing, because I'm a real Anglophone teaching them English and it's something they're going to have to appreciate. And then she told me I need to bring a French man home with me when I return back to the States, but again, that's a whole different story.

Or last week at the bank. I understood nearly every single word about the transaction. He only had to translate "transfer funds" to English for me, but other than that I ordered my FREE debit card and checks. He asked me if my family's French -- everyone over here recognizes my French last name and obvious first name -- and if that's the reason why my French is so good.

But then there are other times that make all those prior moments seem worthless and trivial.

Like when my phone was stolen. For two days I had no idea how to describe the incident other than making insane amounts of hand gestures. I guess it was a traumatic moment because I got too worked up to even slightly express myself.

Or when I'm in a class full of 25 French students and I tell them something in French only to have them all have to look at their teacher for clarification.

Or when my roommate makes me repeat words three times before she understands what I'm saying.

Or when the people at the phone store don't understand me, so they speak to me in English -- which I have a hard time understanding in their thick English accents. But I'm the one who's in their country and should be speaking their language clearly.

But then again, I do have exciting moments where I remember to correctly use the subjunctive tense. Like when I let slip a word that seems even shocking and advanced to me. And times when I can speak fairly quickly and not worry too much about minor grammatical errors.

All of this in time will come more naturally, but until then, I'm extremely self-conscious about my up and down intonation, horridly thick American accent, and child-like vocabulary.

As for the being in France part, a really big, exciting holiday vacation is coming up in nine days. And I'm only two decisions away (I still have to pick the train station and times of arrival) from booking both a hotel and a train ticket to Tours in the Loire Valley. My friend Oana and I really want to go and do some châteaux and wine-tasting tours the first weekend of November! I can't wait, it's going to be sooo much fun.

Stupid Foreign Girl

...is what the two guys who robbed me must still be thinking right now.

As well as all the teachers whose classes I come into. And my roommate. And the people who work at SFR and sold me a second phone in two weeks.

Either way, yesterday was quite possibly my worst day here. While using the wireless Internet at McDonald's and talking to my mom on Skype, two men kept trying to sell me newspapers and shoved them in my face and kept saying things to me in an accent I couldn't understand. I tried to ignore them because if I grabbed the paper, they'd start asking for money. So I put my arm over my backpack -- luckily, I just put my wallet AND PASSPORT in it two seconds earlier -- and tried to make it really obvious I was having a conversation in English with someone else. The first continued to throw the paper in my face and reached for me, so I took it and violently shoved it back at him. That was probably my mistake right there. If I hadn't been so rude, perhaps I'd still have a phone.

After he left, another man came and did the same thing with the other guy standing near the door. It wasn't until I went to look for my phone to see what time Sarah was coming that I realized they'd swiped it and were no longer in the building. And then I realized my phone was at the end of the table and not in my bag before they approached me, so it very quickly and discreetly could have been stolen. Of course they used the exterior stairwell, so no one ever saw them. Except for two boys, who described them as speaking like this, "ba ba la ba ba," and wearing a turban. That they were not, but you get the idea.

Then my stomach started churning and I was freaking out. When Sarah finally arrived I was totally frazzled and couldn't pay attention to anything. And I feel so bad, because as we were leaving, another man of North African descent was standing near our table and I was worried he'd do something to us. Actually he was just waiting for the outlet, but of course now I'm going to be a little wary of everyone. Later when I went home, I couldn't eat, had the worst stomach ache I've had in a long time, and tossed and turned for a few minutes in bed. Then I took some Tylenol PM and passed the F out.

It was a good thing and a bad thing at once. Yeah I probably lost about 90 Euros during the theft, but I've learned a VERY important lesson. No more keeping anything out of my bag or in reachable distance to anyone else. I'm always going to have all my belongings very close to me.

Second lesson, never use public wi-fi ports again! Luckily I finally got my computer to work on our internet network here, so that should NEVER again be a problem.

It's not the end of the world. I have a cooler new phone. I wasn't hurt at all. I'm so lucky that I just put my wallet away and my credit cards, money, PASSPORT, etc. are still intact and with me.

Worse things could have befallen me that day. And I'm still alive to tell the story. Tomorrow I'll talk about my first and second days of teaching, because this is about all I have the energy to share for now.

The circle is my least favorite shape

Today was brutal because I've already been rejected by one French bank for not having the right paperwork... and what they're asking of me is impossible to get from the U.S. The other thing they want, my carte de séjour, is ALSO impossible. The Catch 22 is that I can't get my account without a carte de séjour, but I can't even apply for the carte until I have a bank account number. So this afternoon after I finished my observations, I went to Crédit Agricole to hopefully sign up for a compte. Supposedly this one is way less anal than Banc National de Paris (BNP). I have an appointment tomorrow morning at 9:30. WISH ME LUCK, because this is the THIRD really bad day I've had in a row. Homesick is totally an understatement for what I'm feeling.

And since I'm on the subject of school, today's observations were at my headquarters. This one's very close to my house so I can walk. And I suppose the busses are back up running today, because people are waiting at the stops. Funny story, my stop was DEMOLISHED yesterday. It's still gone today but now there are people huddled near the construction posts.

I'm a bit reassured about teaching, because now I have some sort of direction. Still not 100% reassured. Although, I met a teacher today who gave me an English book to use, but it's ridiculous. I'm not sure what she wants me to do with it or how to divide the lessons, but supposedly we're supposed to be on the same course. This will probably come with time. The food at La Tournière is not as good as Juan Gare, but still a lot better than I remember in elementary school. I think we had the equivalent of "mystery meat" today, as it was steak -- or pork -- in a brown broth with mushrooms, accomapnied with the French version of cheesy rice, really puffy grains with camembert. And then we washed it all down with the famous French cheese platter, fruit, and bread.

And again, the differences between our educational systems is astounding. I can't really speak too profoundly on the matter, because I only attended three or four different schools in the U.S. But from what I recall, we weren't THIS excited about education in elementary school. And I've noticed the teachers have much more restraint over their students than all mine did. I think that's partially due to the strict nature of the French in general. Everyone here is so guarded and closed off at first, but they warm up rather quickly if you give them a chance.

But back on topic, every time I enter a new class (third through fifth grade), the maître(sse) introduces me as the English assistant to his or her class, the children light up! Today my first class was so excited, half of the children jumped out of their seats. Then when he announced I was from California, the other half jumped up.

When I arrived at Ecole Juan Gare yesterday, all eyes were on me. A group of girls approached me and asked if I was there to teach English or Italian. When I responded, "anglais," the girls jumped up and down together shouting, "Ouais! Engleesh!!" Very cute.

So soon I'll be Maîtresse Moyal. That's Mistress to you. I better watch out before some sort of power-trip arises.

Let there be light!

[Preface to this post:] It wasn't until flying on Wednesday night that I realize I feel utterly isolated.

Yes, I have close friends via electronic communication; however, I'm up in the Bay Area alone and I've just gone through a really hard situation also leaving me emotionally abandoned. In times like these during college, I'd go out with friends or have a physical shoulder to cry on, watch a movie with the girls... the list goes on.

And when I thought about all that on the plane, I couldn't keep it in. I've never before acted like this in public and I could not hold back the tears stinging my eyes.

Luckily it was a red eye flight, so it was dark and hardly anyone was awake when I rank back to the lavatory to grab some kleenex.

It all just hit so hard and I've had three days to digest it all. Even though I'm totally overwhelmed, I'm starting to put things into perspective and convince myself of how to think, feel and act.

Working constantly for two weeks is helping take my mind off everything. Especially with a lightning storm here in Boston to break up the monotony of 12 hours of volleyball matches. And since this IS the AVP, it was only fitting that they evacuated us from our metal "cage" to a neighboring bar and dance cabana. Hey, at least they had an overhang!

There really is never a dull moment here on tour. Especially when you mix staff, players and local drunks :)

...But when it all comes to a screeching halt at the end of the season, I'm getting the feeling that I'm going to have a lot more time to think about my present situation some more.

A new morning

Today I woke up and had a question burning within me.

I thought to myself, as hard as it is, I'm going to ask this question. One of two things could happen:

a.) I get the answer I want and just wait for it to happen.
b.) I don't and face the long road ahead of moving on.

And 10 minutes ago, I asked the question. I didn't get the response I was looking for. So now I think I'm ready to make that arduous journey. It's going to take a lot of strength and tears, but now I know it's the only way.

I'm going to stop hurting myself and try to grow up. Try to. Let's hope I have the strength to do that, because I deserve so much better than what I've been going through lately.

There, I said it. I just wish what I deserve finally comes to me one of these days, instead of letting myself get hurt in situations like these over and over again.

Greener Grass

It's funny that once someone -- ok it was more like a few people -- told me they were jealous because, right before I graduated in March I had "the perfect boyfriend (baseball player), amazing grades (true), and an awesome job lined up (although it was not my first choice)."

And at the time, all I could do was smile and say thanks. I wasn't going to make any apologies, because I've worked really hard my whole life in classes and preparing for a job I want. As for the relationship, I've only ever had one before the comment and I thought I had waited a long time for the right person and that was finally paying off.

Now here I am a few months later and all I can do is feel sorry for myself. Well, maybe that's not it. But still.

I just want to be happy and to be with someone who will make me the center of their world. That's all I'm asking for, because apparently I fall way too hard and get way too attached for my own good.

And how much of a shame would it be for me to stop doing that? When the right time comes (IF it even does) I'm sure I would want to feel that same exact way, because I imagine that when it's reciprocated my world will be complete.

I guess until then, I'm going to envy everyone that told me my life was perfect back when, because they at least are happy with significant others now. Who cares if you can't figure out what you're going to do in life... as long as you have someone there for support to help get through it all. I don't even have that anymore.

La choque

I guess I'm going to start August off with a new outlook on my supposed European journey:

Salops.

Today is the day I was supposed to apply for my visa. Read that line very carefully. After getting off BART, I was pleasantly shocked to see San Francisco heavily covered in a chilly layer of fog. But my spirits were up, because soon I was going to have physical evidence of becoming a French resident. As I turned a few corners -- impressed because I was navigating the big city alone, something I've never done before -- my energy seemed to increase as I saw more and more signs I was getting close.

It was as if I had been transported right into the heart of a French metropolitan city. To my right I saw a Tabac sign, just like the ones I grew acustomed to on every street corner in France. On the left, L'Hôtel des Arts and then another small, yet bustling, French café opened its doors to Francophiles along the gray streets of San Francisco.

The tri-color flag just down the street signaled the French consulate and I was gliding on air at that point. Standing in line, my eyes wandered to the consulate's hours of operation sign. My heart raced a little when I read the words "Appointment only." How did I miss that on the website? I triple checked the website to make sure I had all the right papers with me. Two copies and the original of my passport, passport-sized photos, my arrêté de nomination, the visa application and an itinary for my flight. It was all in my envelope, taunting the fact that I was not 100% prepared.

I figured I'd give it a shot anyhow. What's the worst that could happen? I'll stick around after making an appointment in person? Turns out I ran into the rudest security guard I've ever encountered in my life. He spoke neither English nor French very well. After he informed me that I could only make an appointment online, I still wasn't panicing and called my mom to see if she could do it. However, the link was broken.

Trying my luck a second time, I walked up to the security guard and told him the site wasn't working and if I could just please speak to someone who could help me make an appointment in person... But he would have none of it and sent me off, broken-hearted.

I'm beginning to learn a lot about my character as the years go on, because my eyes welled up with giant tears right there on the street. I couldn't hold it in, but by the time they started falling, I was already fleeing the French corner of the city that I so badly wanted to be in.

Now all it stood for was a dream that was always just beyond my grasp. If I'll ever be able to make an appointment, you have to do so three weeks in advance. That takes us to the end of August. Then it takes 2-3 months to process a visa request, which would be about late-October to November -- too late for me to start teaching by my October 1 deadline. I tried calling the program coordinator, but I don't think she can do anything to expidite this process. All I can do now is wait and keep checking the website each day.

So now I'm at a loss once again. Do I schedule my ticket and risk blowing $1,000? Or do I wait until I have my visa to do so and then have to pay close to $2,000 so close to the departure date?

And if I don't go, I know I'll always be wondering what it could have been like, upset at myself for never siezing this chance when in reality it was kind of impossible. Then I'll be stuck in the United States with no job, no place to live and no boyfriend, because in preparation for my departure, we kind of decided to split up in order to lessen the pain that could possibly ensue had I left for France fresh off the break-up. The one thing that's worse than breaking up with someone and not being able to see them because you're thousands of miles away is being only 300 miles away, without him.

So that means that right now I'm heart-broken without a good cause. And the only thing that could make me feel a little better about that fact is slipping away from me.