The Awesome, The Rare, And The Creepy.

Things here escalated quickly! My schedule went from "Twiddle thumbs for 2 hours, then maybe do some laundry", to "You will never ever get a break again in your entire life". I've literally been busy since last Monday with reading, teaching, classing {it flows better, okay?}, hosting, socializing, studying, and alllll  that good stuff. But I shall not fail in continuing to post at least once a month!

When I first finalized my schedule, I didn't know I would later add more classes to it. So here it is: I'm currently taking on 27 units.

Yap. 27 of those bad boys.

I still can't wrap my head around this; that's 7 classes total this semester. I mean, if I'm this busy right now, how will I feel during finals in January? I have a feeling I won't have time to feel anything soon enough. I may just have to cut sleep out of my schedule altogether come finals week. But that's the fun part about school, it never fucking ends!... Wait.

But besides that, everything is smooth sailing! I realize that in this blog I haven't really talked much about Lyon itself, so I'd like to take some time to talk about it; you know, a bit of history {so I can actually apply some of what I've learned}, cultural norms, usual nights out, and all the fun European stuff you're missing out on! {Sorry about that; if you're really hurt about it, come visit!}

Not long after my arrival here, I realized that English is high in demand, and practically every parent wants their kid to be speaking it. What else was I supposed to do but take advantage of this opportunity? I am currently teaching 3 kids total on two separate occasions; one I just have normal conversation with, and the other two I actually teach them vocabulary and grammar {this also showed me how hard English is. I knew it was hard, but try teaching it to anyone else who doesn't speak it. Goddamn}. This also made me realize how high in demand English is in the business world, and the immense pressure it puts on kids to learn it in order for them to have successful careers 20 years down the line. It's just absolutely insane. So the next time you're complaining about how your job search isn't going very well, remember: at least you know English; that's half of the battle right there.

History! 

... Yeah, I kind of don't want to talk about that one either. I'll do a blog specifically dedicated to this one, I promise. There's lots to be learned in this area {for some reason, I get the feeling that one will be the less popular than usual}.

Moving on!

Certain cultural norms here are awesome. For example, the French love their long lunch hours to enjoy their food, talk with friends, and just take a good break from work to come back with more motivation. But others... others I could easily live without. Sometimes I just don't understand how people feel comfortable here. I mean, the guys, yeah sure, whatever. But that's because they don't have a vagina. Seriously, if I have to deal with another overzealous doucher asking for a date to McDonalds I will have a BF {Don't understand the reference? Click here}. 

I could have a 3 foot-long beard complete with a  monocle, a cane, saggy boobs and wear crocs and guys would still come hit on me because I'm female. It's gross.

At this point in this post I'd like to make a shout out to my girlfriends back home: come visit beautiful, charming, care-free Lyon! Just focus on the long afternoon breaks you'll get, and not the creepy guys in tracksuits cat-calling you.      

But if you {like 98% of the population out there} can't make it out here on a count of work, cash flow, or motivation, I can do my best to bring a weekend in Lyon to you!

Like all places, the weekend/night life here varies depending on visitors, weather, and if there's any city-wide functions going on. But really, mostly the weather. Usually at night it's the choice between four options: 1) pub, 2) night club, 3) péniches {boat bars} or 4) wine bar. I have to say, I am most comfortable with a good pub whilst being around friends, but I have gone to the other three a couple times. I admit to always telling myself I'll want to go to a club when the weekend comes around, but then I realize that I'm already in my slippers, drinking tea, basically practicing to be an old lady. And I'm perfectly happy with that. But then there's those accidental nights.

What I mean is some nights you go out for a single measly drink with some friends, looking forward to a chilled-out night, only to find yourself dancing on a strip pole {tables as well, but that wasn't until after I realized I didn't want a stripping/pole dancing future}, making out with a French Rob Pattinson, and drinking some 700 euro bottles of vodka out of wine glasses like 3 hours later. Shit happens. 

But life goes by so quickly; I'm already 20 and I've almost no clue what I've done to make a difference in the lives of those I know, let alone a difference in the world. I mean, by the end of the line I would like to be able to say what I've accomplished and have a pissing contest against others about how good of a person I was and all that crap. But I would love more than anything to say that I actually lived my life that I was given, and that I wouldn't take back a single second of it. If I'm a terrible person for pursuing my happiness and well being, sue me {or, "dislike me strongly" for you non-Americans who aren't sue-happy}. But I think that's what our purpose is in life: to keep ourselves happy, and to impact the lives of others that will want to make them go and help someone who's down and out as well.

I hope this gives some kind of insight to what's usual {and-not-so-usual} here; when I think of more, it will definitely be on here along with that post on the history, which I find to be really interesting in how it integrates into daily life {la vie quotidienne} here. Hope everyone's week is going just swell, and not filled with 0°C snowy/windy weather {unlike my near future}.

À bientôt!

xoxo    

Things Change. This Sadly Includes The Weather.

Greetings from the land of striped shirts and baguettes {I'm currently eating one right now, but leave the poor/delicious thing out of it}! I come with news from the land of Éire and Italia! And yes, these places were visited by yours truly within the span of a week. But I swear, if I get the extra time/money to visit these places again, I'm going in a heartbeat. 

Dublin!
May I first start off with the fact that because my passport is basically my golden ticket to cross borders, I A} freak out that I may somehow lose it because history shows that's exactly what would happen, and B} feel like a total badass when I hand it over to customs like it's a fucking badge for the CIA or something.

My first thought upon exiting the plane: Colder than Jack Frost's ballsack {later I will find out that it would be much, much colder in Lyon upon return}. My second thought: Double decker buses!! I may be a bit too excited for this one.

And why shouldn't I be? They look
awesome/slightly top-heavy.

When I got off of the plane, I took one of these babies into the city center to Temple Bar, the area that's best known for it's bars with traditional music, sell-your-soul expensive pints, and unquestionably whoreish outfits worn by stick figures. I stumbled upon cunningly found the hostel in which my friend, Caitlin, and I were to stay for the weekend without a map, and let me tell you, this hostel is a great place to stay {as far away as possible}. It was Native-American themed, complete with an Native-American chief and desert wallpaper, {in Dublin mind you}, run by Indians {from India, notice I said it was Native-American themed}, and it was connected to a pizza joint that was under the same jurisdiction as the hostel. 



I've sold you on the idea. I just know it.


Anyways, that was actually the worst of it.. The rest of the trip went perfectly, which is unnervingly abnormal for me. I still think the universe is saving up something extra special for me in the near future. Although the hostel was a shit-hole, it was extremely well-situated in the city center; we were one block away from Temple Bar {so the nights were sleepless}, and a block away from the quay {so famous landmarks/cool shit to see were well within walking distance}. 

The first night, we went to explore around where we were for the weekend: Temple Bar. Holy Jesus that place is a total shit show, through and through. Except for the street performers, they've got serious talent. Any time we walked through, there was always something abnormal. Not only did I see women without scruples {or nerve endings; it was still colder than the heart of the White Witch} dressing up as angels, devils, and at best guess, strippers, but there were actually little people dressed up as Oompa Loompas. I'm still kicking myself for not getting a photo with them. It's not everyday you have a photo with a group of Oompa Loompas to make your friends turn green with envy as you pose with little people with a bad fake tan.

We visited a few parks the next day, which are absolutely gorgeous, as well as Trinity College {which is amazing-er}. There is also the Writer's Museum, and I had forgotten about how many amazing writers Dublin has coughed up: James Joyce, George Bernard Shaw, Oscar Wilde, Bram Stoker, and tons more. Here are some photos to visualize the amazing-ness!

Most epic memorial statue EVER.

Trinity College {Warning: If you want to see the Book
of Kells, it costs money... which I didn't have}

This park had a section dedicated to Oscar Wilde!

In this particular section of the park, there were three pillars that had quotes of Wilde written all over them. This one was a favorite, as was this one:

It made me laugh at first, just because the comparison is laughable, but I thought about it, and I believe that everyone struggles with their vanity. I think Wilde was also alluding to the need for a creation of a "fountain of youth" kind of contraption.

Oh, now we're getting to the good part. 

The last night, we were looking for traditional Irish music, and stumbled into a bar called The Stag's Head {click on the name for an inside look!}, which was hosting a band that was playing rebel IRA songs whilst everyone in the bar was singing, drinking, and dancing to the music. It. Was. Insane. The energy I felt in that room was unbelievable despite the fact that we were all strangers to one another. It is more than frustrating because I took some video of the band, and you can hear everyone singing and yelling in the background, but the fucking video will not upload on any site. I just want to show you guys how awesome it was, but once again, technology has won this round by shitting on my hypothetical happiness.


{This is where the awesome video would be if the internet were equally as awesome. I'm just going to put up a photo of a panda to make it better.}

Hate to say it, but it's not
the same..

The next day, we wandered around a bit again {because that's the best way to find the awesome parts of a city}, and stumbled upon the Wax Museum! I was actually avoiding it, because I knew it would scare the shit out of me {even cardboard cut-outs of people scare me, okay?}, but once we got past the first room, it was really cool. The first few rooms were dedicated to Irish history: medieval times, Irish myth, the famine, the battles, the politics... it was pretty cool to see, but the thought that Ireland's history is extremely tragic and quite depressing never seems to leave your mind. Which is why we immediately left that area and went for the Halloween decorated room complete with Frankensteinsmonster, Count Dracula, Freddy Krueger, and some weird creepy things climbing on the walls and ceiling. The only {obviously} important thing to do was to get a photo with Freddy.

Totally caught him off guard.

Also can't forget about Mr. Nicholson... I mean The Joker.

Venezia!
Really, I only had a full day to spend here, but since it's a fairly small city it was easy to cover all the important ground. We went to the Piazza San Marco (aka the Square with the crazy fucking pigeons with no idea what personal boundaries are} to start, then wandered in the Basilica for a bit, then decided to get lost in the real-life maze that is Venice. Despite it's small area coverage, it is really difficult to get around that city even with a map. I also bought a mask from the city that's known world-wide for their masks. Here's the store we went into.

Seemed pretty legit. No plastic; 100% Venetian paper maché.

I bought a mask as a souvenir, and as I was checking out, the shopkeeper told me about the festival the have late January/early February called Carnivale. Guess who's going to Venice to attend a city-wide masquerade? 

In more recent {and pressing} news: The French don't celebrate Halloween properly. You're supposed to get creative with costumes, not dress up like either a zombie or ghoul {although one can never say no to a good zombie getup}. Anyways, because nobody really dresses up, I wasn't about to take public transportation dressed up as Burnout Tinkerbell, so I decided on Gwen Stacy, friend/love interest {and precursor of Mary Jane Watson} to the superhero of The Amazing Spiderman comics. Click on her name if you don't know her! And go watch the movie, dammit.


Aaand that's about all the escapades I have to talk about for now. Unless you want to hear about my {lack of} success at reading 4 French books at one time! Too soon? Yea, I agree, that's something that will always be too soon. 

À bientôt!

xoxo