As much as I know you've all enjoyed my lovely travel posts, I'm afraid to inform you that the next few will be quite mundane. This one is about the obnoxiousness that is France and the French. The next will be about why they shouldn't allow me to teach. So here it goes.
First, let me say that I still haven't figured out how to hand wash my clothes. It seemed relatively self-explanatory: fill tub, add soap, add clothes, rinse clothes, dry clothes. Right? No, this simple procedure does not, surprisingly, clean a bloody thing. This time I was doing a massive load of darks, and I thought to myself, "Well, I'll just pretend like this is a washing machine and I'll do whatever a washing machine would do." So I filled the tub with warm water and added soap. Then I threw the clothes in and (quite ridiculously) tried to make my own agitation (and then spin) cycle. I looked funny, and I got tired, but my clean my clothes were not. Ugh. Spin cycle number two, add the shower head sprayer for good measure. No good? Drain the soapy water out, refill with clean water, and spin some more. Drain for the final time and .... failure. The clothes were kind of sort of clean, but secretly I knew that the alcohol spilled on me at the Cuban/Brazilian club(s) in Rennes was not coming out of my shirts (this is a whole story in itself, let's just say that Irene wanted to dance --latin style-- and old french men in latin clubs are even more creepy than regular creepy french men in regular bars...sigh). Whatever, I suck at life. Just hang them up and forget it. In a few months, when I come home to the land of decent washing machines, my clothes will get cleaned up nicely. Perhaps I just need to invest in an old school washboard until then?
After washing my clothes, it was time to give our bathroom a scrub down. Washing darks leaves some nasty dye in the tub. So I sprayed some bleach and started scrubbing. Within seconds of spraying the cleaner, I suddenly had the urge to go swimming. Why was that? I haven't gone in over 2 weeks (oops). Bleach. The smell of bleach reminds me of chlorine, and chlorine reminds me of pools, and pools make me want to get my butt kicked at swim practice. Well needless to say I went to practice today, and the coach told me that he thought I'd left or something. Nooo I was just busy, so much work, you understand... Anyway, we swam 4000 meters, wow. It felt so good. It was a long practice, we usually only do around 2500, so this kicked my butt, in a good way!
Speaking of domestic chores, I am learning to cook. Slowly but surely, I am learning the culinary arts from the master, Miss Rachel. If you know me, then you know how inept I am at such a simple task. Part of my inadequacy stems from my extreme pickiness when it comes to food. If it's green, I probably don't like it. There are reasons I could never be a vegetarian. Anyway, Rachel always makes stuff that smells amazing, even if it is veggies, so we've decided that I must learn. My first lesson came when Dana was here. We made salmon (lemon flavored, yum) and my new favorite dish-- fried potatoes and onions. Okay it's not that hard, you boil some chopped potatoes, fry them, add some onions and garlic, and voila! But here's the funny part: I used to think I hated onions. Not so my friends, I love them now, at least I love them fried with potatoes and garlic. While cooking this stuff I cut an onion for the very first time in my life (probably a first on the potatoes as well). Isn't that a tad bit sad? Well, progress is progress. Rachel also bought me a french cookbook and we're going to pick a meal out before Saturday so we can get all the ingredients at the farmers market. I vote for something with spinach (a green plant I happen to like). I'll keep you posted.
So hand-washing clothes and cooking may not be my strong suits, but I'm young and I have time to learn. What I won't ever learn, however, is how to be polite to stupid french handymen that let themselves into my apartment. So the other day I was in bed and I heard the doorbell ring. Nope, not getting up. I don't care who it is, I want a lie-in. Cue the noise of keys and the door opening. That's strange, Rach is supposed to be in Sartilly all day. Cue man's voice. Crap. Scramble out of bed. What to do? I have time to either throw on some jeans and pull my hair in a pony tail OR throw the clothes piled high around my room into the wardrobe. Umm. Oh well, you hesitated too long, and now you have time for neither. Crap, okay go confront man with pjs on and bedhair. It's too early for french (before 10am when I don't have class until 2pm, much too early), and I don't understand a word. Ummm what? Can you repetay that see voo play? Yeah thanks, okay, so you want some shelves do you? Let's see here, oh you want these weird half table things that you stored in my room and that we turned into storage units in the living room. Here let me move that garbage bag and half dead plant, there you go. Take it, we didn't want it anyway. Oh you don't want it? You want it on the wall of my bedroom...um okay. Why? No reason, I didn't think so. Fine hang it... um (kick some clothes aside, pull a 1664 poster down) here. Okay where are the other shelves? Um I have no bloody clue. You tell me. Fine go look in Rach's room, but I warn you, she won't be happy about it (her's being in a sorrier state than my own). There they are, full of stuff no less. Puzzled look from man. Well what did you expect? You come early in the morning with no warning (a note earlier would have been nice). Yes I realize this is not your choice, you march to orders from on high, we're all victims in this crazy game, but could you just come back later, yeah? Thanks. Rach comes back, aghast that she must now figure out where in her room the unwanted shelves can hang (after cleaning them off of course). We hear a door open and heavy footsteps. No knocking this time? No bell? Just come right in, we weren't naked or anything. Not that you'd care. Grrr. Whatever, just hang the bloody shelves and go away. Why must you bother us?? Yes I'm being dramatic, but in the dull city of Avranches, even the smallest events seem quite important. Don't judge me.
Speaking of not being informed ahead of time, you'll never guess what happened to Rach and Kate at the elementary school. The other day a woman came by with a young gendarme (police man, but sort of in the army branch). She announced to the surprised girls that he was actually moving in, right now. Oh, lovely. That's not strange or anything. We don't mind finding out, well, the day of. Not a problem. As it turns out, Cedric, the already balding but still nice chap of 26, is not that bad, though he's developed quite the crush on Irish Rach. She brings it on herself though (she made him bring out his hats for her to try on, if that doesn't make a man swoon, I don't know what will). He hangs out with us now, and it's only a little awkward (mainly when Rach has had a bit too much to boire and he goes all gaga over her --awkward but really funny, you can't buy entertainment like this). And yesterday a new gendarme showed up. I guess he's moving in too (quite the party). He's younger (22), but like Cedric he's prematurely balding. Maybe it's a hazard of the profession? Pierre-Yves, the newbie, is nice but shyer than Cedric. Unfortunately neither turned out to be potential french petit-amis for any of us (for various reasons), but oh well. We're not into the law enforcement types anyway. At least they're under 40 and over 18. That works for now, we can hang out at the Liberties now and not get approached by freaks or my students (yeah, I've been running into my students and they either want me to buy them drinks or want me to give them my flatmate's number, get a life folks, you're in high school). But still, a little warning would have been nice. The guys could have been psychos or something. I guess a gendarme is better than a regular bloke (as far as safety goes). Whatever. The French could care less. We are, after all, mere assistants.
What am I doing right now? Eating nutella from the jar to curve a chocolate craving, and trying to not freak out about schools. I just finished watching mtv's True Life: I'm having an arranged marriage. I'm not going to lie, some days, I don't think that's a bad idea. Ha! Just kidding. I think. Eventually I need to file my taxes, but I'd rather watch True Life: I'm in anger management. Maybe I should read a book....
Okay that's all for now. Must get back to the new dart board (I'm going to get good at this, I swear). Enjoy the snow Wisconsinites.
Next up: teaching issues. Get ready for it.
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