Quand est-ce que ça s’arrête

Okay, but for real – can someone please tell me why I’m like this?  I go out of my way to make sure everyone else is miserable just because I feel like shit.  I put loved ones in situations where they are guaranteed to give the “wrong” response (selon moi).  And then get mad when they do so.  It’s a lose-lose for them and a win-win for me.  Even though I’m actually the one losing.  Big time.

But I can’t help it.

Bitch sit your punk ass down and stop using the absolute most pathetic excuse in the book.  “But I can’t help it” can be directly translated to “but I don’t want to change“.  Well, after years and years and years of this behavior, I’m fed the fuck up.  I now have a boyfriend that I love, and who loves me dearly, and he doesn’t deserve a girlfriend who plays these time-wasting games.  Especially considering we’re long distance France-America.  We do not have time to waste being moody.  And then there’s my family.  My family, yo……….god they deserve so much better from me.  So much better.  Who the hell am I to walk around with a bad attitude day in and day out when all they want is my happiness?  Who the hell am I?

I have trouble letting go.  I always have.  Whether I’m leaving behind an asshole fuckboy in Paris or finishing the last episode of The Durrells in Corfu.  I just make things into such a huge ordeal.  I’m so fucking dramatic, shit!!  My boyfriend sends me a snapchat video of his colleagues and I see a girl in there.  I screenshot.  Two seconds later my boyfriend’s got a text from me with said screenshot attached asking why he was filming that girl.  WHEN I KNOW FULL WELL THAT HE LOVES ME AND I LITERALLY DO NOT FEEL THREATENED BY THIS GIRL AT ALL.  WHO IS SHE?  I LITERALLY DON’T KNOW OR CARE.  But!  I’m bored, I want attention, and I want my boyfriend to explain to me why I shouldn’t be worried and to reassure me of how much he loves me.  So I come up with this sick, fucked up way of getting that out of him.  Manipulation.  Straight up.  I’m manipulating him to tell me he loves me when he literally tells me he loves me all day every day.  And here’s the best part – I’m fully aware that I’m doing this, and I hate myself for it, and I get even more angry (with myself), but transfer the anger I have towards myself to my boyfriend.  And then I’m mad at myself for being mad at him for no reason because he’s honestly the best boyfriend I could have ever wished for and it just goes on and on and on until  we’re both silent (me from shame and him from exhaustion).   Here’s a thought – tell him this.  Acknowledge that you’re being a childish little shit, laugh about it, and move ON.

I could write for days on this subject.  But we mustn’t dwell, must we?  We can only acknowledge our mistakes and make a conscious effort to better ourselves as we move forward.  Tomorrow’s the first day of the Christmas holidays, and I intend to spend these next few weeks making lovely jubbly memories with my family that I’ll take with me to Paris when I’ve flown the nest.

Appreciate what you’ve got.  Realize how good you have it.  Because nothing is forever.

 

Snapshots of the last few months

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Je tiens à toi

Rosie vous a envoyé un message (7)

Je t’aime mon amour ❤

Prudence, hein !!

PRUDENCE PARTOUTTTTT

Ecoute pas ta musique trop fort dans le métro !

Et fais attention à tes environs 🕵🏽🕵🏽🕵🏽

Ecris-moi quand t’es arrivé à la station et puis quand t’es arrivé au boulot stp

Je t’aime trop Thomas ❤

 

 

Des histoires à raconter

COUCOU !!!! Ouais je sais, ça fait un bail…mais je suis revenue, et avec des nouvelles histoires à raconter.  Alors là, je suis en train de finir mon tout dernier semestre à la fac, enfin, pour undergrad.  La remise de diplômes, c’est en décembre, et Thomas vient aux États-Unis pour y assister.  C’est qui Thomas ? Bahhh, c’est mon mec ça 🙂  Fini les fuck boys ! Fini le heartbreak ! J’embarque sur une nouvelle aventure: l’amour, pur et vrai.

Je vous expliquerai tout dans un autre poste, mais pour l’instant, voici quelques photos de cet été à Paris (et ailleurs).

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Bisous.

MOROCCO

While living in Paris last year, I went to Morocco with my family when they came to visit me between semesters.  I’m definitely going back to Morocco as soon as I can.  It’s a beautiful city with beautiful people.  They’re so welcoming – and it’s not fake.  They are genuinely interested in you and where you come from.  They love to show you what their daily life is like.  They love to take you away from the touristy stuff and invite you into their homes for mint tea and biscuits.  They treat you as a good friend, and those are the kind of people you want to meet while traveling.

Everywhere you turn there’s an amazing opportunity for another beautiful photo.

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It’s so incredibly easy to get lost in the maze of narrow winding streets that are the back alleys of Marrakech, but it’s cool because it kind of makes you feel like an explorer.  I suggest dedicating an entire day to exploring the back streets (although you won’t have even scratched the surface after one day).  Don’t forget the essentials – comfortable shoes, a bottle of water, and most importantly, your camera.

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The building in which we stayed was absolutely gorgeous and we were treated like royalty.  This was clearly a place where tourists stayed, but it was amazing nonetheless.

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I really enjoyed photographing this city because it’s  full of color.  Quite different from the Parisian winter I had left behind.

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Rooftop café with my beautiful mother.

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A visit to the Ben Youssef Medersa Islamic College.

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This mosque is exclusively reserved for the muslim religious practice. (Private) Thank you.

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Making friends.

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The orange pressée is beyond delicious.  Regular (American) orange juice didn’t cut it before, and now it definitely doesn’t.

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Yes, those are mountains in the background!

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This shot of the two boys on the rooftop is one of my favorite shots from this trip.

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We were on a mission to buy one of these gorgeous handmade rugs, but got side-tracked.  The lovely woman gave us a free lesson on how she makes them.  Very complicated.  Props to her for doing that all day every day.

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Leaving early in the morning to catch our flight back to Paris.

Morocco was very good to us.

Bisous.

Insatisfaite.

Maintenant que je ne suis plus à Paris (j’y reviens en février, t’inquiètes pas), je me rends compte qu’il y a beaucoup de choses dont lesquelles je n’ai pas pris des bonnes photos.  Particulièrement, l’Hôtel de Ville.  Je n’ai quasiment aucune photo de ce bâtiment magnifique.   Donc, ce poste va servir comme un petit rappel de prendre plus de photos de ces endroits quand je suis encore à Paris l’année prochaine.

Alors voici les endroits où il faut que je prenne beaucoup plus de photos.

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Bisous.

Il faut se dire des belles choses qu’on gardera pour plus tard.

Recently I’ve been getting into Fauve.  Fauve is a French music group consisting of five main members.  If you listen to their stuff, you’ll see why I would find it hard to describe their style.  Basically, they make simple (but dope) beats and then speak over them, sometimes singing as well.  I had heard of them earlier this summer when FNAC hosted a free four-day concert in front of Hôtel de Ville in Paris.  As you can imagine, I was extremely jealous of the Parisians that had the chance to attend – Hôtel de Ville c’est mon endroit préféré!  Instead, I spent all four nights in bed browsing the #hoteldeville tag on Instagram, watching videos of the performances and double tapping any photo that featured the magnificent Hôtel de Ville itself.  Bref.  It was only this past weekend that I actually heard Fauve for the first time.  A friend from Paris came to visit (Andrew), and played their EP “Blizzard” for me while in the car on the way to the One Direction concert.  I was instantly hooked.

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This isn’t Paris, but I really love this shot from the 1D concert.

I’ve had Fauve’s EP on repeat since Saturday.  It’s Thursday.  Their music is calming, but catchy à la fois.  Their lyrics are insanely brilliant.  And to top it all off, c’est tout en français.

I am completely and crazily in love with the French language.  It is so beautiful.  I learned so much about the pronunciation in the phonetics classes I took while I was living there.  Things like the French ‘r’, the difference between “ou” and “u”, the difference between “en”, “un”, “in”, and “an”, liaisons, enchainements, the rhythm of a sentence  – tout ça.  It’s hard, yo!  I’ve definitely improved, but in no way am I anywhere close to sounding like une vraie française.  So for now, I’ll keep practicing, and I’ll continue to listen to Fauve in my car with a huge smile on my face in awe of the effortlessness with which the French speak.

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In phonetics class…

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Andrew.

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Texting when I should be speaking….

Bisous.

Direction Étoile, prochain train dans une minute.

I grew up in a very small town in Michigan.  Calling it a ‘town’ might even be too generous – I think it was technically just a ‘township’.  Anyway, it stretches across a vast three miles, and one thing you won’t ever see is any form of public transportation.  No taxis, no buses, and absolutely no underground train system.  Oh, I’m sorry, I lied.  There’s the little bus that takes the old people to and from the local retirement home.

In the months leading up to my big move to Paris, I tried to familiarize myself with Paris’s metro system.  After a day or two of copying what I now know are the RER lines (i.e. not actually any of the 16 metro lines that I would end up using daily), I gave up feeling overwhelmed trying to navigate this intricate maze of underground trains.  I had had experience with metro systems before (London, New York, Milan), but those were only during short vacations.  I wasn’t actually living in the city and in no way did I have any of it memorized.  Also on these vacations, it was usually someone else who took the initiative to guide the rest of us and I just tagged along, rarely taking note of where we were.  So naturally I was worried that it would take me months to understand the complicated ways of the Parisian underground.

Turns out, I’m a natural.

Within a week I was metro-ing alone, no longer using a map or the Paris metro app on my phone.  French people would even stop and ask me for help with directions!  I will admit that on more than one occasion I did accidentally give wrong directions to lost metro users, but I probably never saw them again.  I hope.

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I was living in the 15th arrondissement.  My metro was Pasteur (and I guess Sèvres Lecourbe as well, but Pasteur was a tiny bit closer).  I loved this location.  If you enter through Pasteur, you have access to lines 6 and 12.  Line 6 is, in my opinion, the best metro line.  It’s “une ligne aérienne”, which means it occasionally comes above ground, revealing the most gorgeous views as it snakes between les rues de Paris.  The journey between Pasteur and Passy is truly magical.  Especially the seconds between Bir-Hakeim and Passy as it goes over the Seine and you get the most amazing view of la tour Eiffel and le Sacré-Cœur way off in the distance.

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Line 6 will get you to the Eiffel Tower, Place du Trocadéro, and the Arc de Triomphe.  Whenever I was feeling upset or depressed, I would take line 6 from Pasteur to Trocadéro and walk down from Place du Trocadéro to the tower, and then walk next to the metro all the way home.  It was a beautiful promenade that never failed to lift my spirits.

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The only thing that annoys me about taking the metro is this: no one smiles.  If I’m talking with a friend and start laughing, people start dishing out the dirty looks.  I usually just respond by saying “C’est pas interdit de sourire, hein…” and then they piss off.

Compared to metro systems I’ve used in other cities, Paris’s is definitely the most user-friendly.  Everything is signposted, the trains are almost always on time, and the lines are color-coded !  Line 6 is a cute mint green color : )  New York’s metro is the absolute worst, hands down.  Uptown, downtown, express trains – what??  Using the Paris metro was a treat after using the New York metro.  Just don’t be alarmed if you see a group of homeless people camping out at the bottom of the stairs in Montparnasse, or a man peeing against the wall, or a drunk guy spitting up on the back of a metro seat.  The smell can also get pretty intense.  But BESIDES all of that, I love the metro !

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Damian in Paris’s oldest metro station.

I also mentioned the use of buses as public transportation.  While in Paris, I probably took the bus about six times.  I steered clear of it because the bus routes just seemed way too confusing (same reason I didn’t want to learn the metro lines), but I think when I go back to Paris I’ll use it more.  When you take the bus, you’re above ground and can actually see where you’re going.  Although I love the metro, I love Paris more, and it’s silly to spend half of the day underground when there’s so much beautiful architecture to take in!

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I’m also going to make use of the Vélib’s when I move back to Paris.  I only used them twice.  Once to sit and eat milk and cookies with German.  The second time I was riding on the back of German’s because I was breaking in my new shoes and my feet were killing me.  I do not recommend trying this – I was scared for my life.  Trust me when I say, there is only room for one person on a Vélib’.

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More pictures of the metro, cause this post needs it, right?

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André modeling.

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Empty metro…

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Andrew modeling on the other side of the tracks.

Bisous.

Quoi faire…

Quitter Paris, c’est vraiment la merde. Quitter Paris quand on a trouvé des amis sur lesquels on peut toujours compter, quitter Paris quand on a senti l’amour pour la première fois, quitter Paris quand on a trouvé le vrai bonheur, ça c’est pire que tout. Et pour moi c’est la vie. J’habitais à Paris depuis le début de septembre jusqu’à la fin du mois de mai. Je suis chez moi aux États-Unis maintenant. Je m’ennuie à mort. Il n’y a rien à faire. Je n’ai pas de travail – pourquoi essayer de trouver un boulot si j’y travaillerais seulement pendant deux mois ? Personne ne va pas m’employer. Alors j’attendrai l’automne, quand je serai à l’université et peut-être je peux travailler dans un petit café sur le campus, ou même apprendre le français aux autres étudiants !

Je vous laisse avec quelques photos de mes endroits préférés à Paris!

 

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Au top de l’Arc de triomphe – une belle vue de la Défense.  J’ai fait beaucoup de bons souvenirs là.

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Hôtel de ville ❤

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Place de la Concorde.  On peut voir tout depuis ici.  La tour Eiffel, l’Arc de Triomphe, l’avenue des Champs-Élysées, Madeleine, le jardin des Tuileries.

Ah Paris, c’est beau!

Bisous.

Micky’s in the Marais

Is it possible to eat too many fries?  The answer you’re looking for is ‘no’.  Micky’s Deli, located in the Marais, clearly agrees.  Order one of their burgers and you get a carton packed to the brim with golden brown fried potatoes (complete with ketchup, mayo, or both – comme vous voulez), and a drink of your choice – all for 10 euros.  Though I will warn you, ordering the same thing and choosing to eat your meal “sur place” will cost you 15 euros more.  Get your meal “à emporter”, head round the corner to the right, and you’ll find a cute park (Park Wesselaap) where you can enjoy your food peacefully.  If the park is too busy/closed, just to the left is La Chapelle Sainte Marie Eglise Catholique.  It’s a great spot – very quiet and perfect for people-watching.  Sit on its steps and enjoy one of the more peaceful spots in Paris.

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I can say that the burgers at Micky’s Deli are, hands down, the best burgers I have ever had.

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Heading down to the Seine. (Taken by German – check out his photography.)

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Also taken by German.

3 seine boys

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Dinner near Cluny – La Sorbonne, just across from Musée de Cluny.  On a partagé une omelette mixte. Moi j’ai pris l’omelette, German a pris la salade.  Trop bien.

*I just watched the Brasil vs. Germany World Cup game. 1-7 Germany. I am so sad for the Brazilians. Soyez fort Brésil.*

Bisous.

Presque au revoir

Salut tout le monde!  As this is my first post, I’ll try to keep it short – see if I’m even cut out for this sort of thing.  While this definitely wasn’t one of my first adventures during my year abroad, it is one that I have thought about every day since returning to America.

After meeting German at Sèvres Lecourbe, we nipped into a nearby Marché Franprix and bought ourselves a bag of chips and a cheap bottle of wine.  Not too cheap.  Parisians seem to know their wine, and we certainly didn’t want to appear cheap in such a classy city.  With our picnic in hand, we headed to the Champs-de-Mars.  After a couple minutes of indecision, we finally chose our spot.

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 German opened the bottle, I opened the chips, and we settled in, knowing that this would be the last time we would spend an evening relaxing in front of the tower.  Knowing how to open a bottle of wine is a skill that you learn really quickly when you’re living in Paris, and I’m assuming in France in general.  I’d recommend always carrying a bottle opener in your bag just in case, because trust me, you will be needing it.  Just make sure you take that out of your bag before trying to get into a museum!

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Crossing Pont d’Iéna – not my best idea.

We walked towards the Seine and I made German stop to take a picture of me with this graffiti I had seen over a year ago on Tumblr.  Amazed that it was still there, I took plenty of pictures.  Even if you haven’t been to Paris, I’m sure you’ve probably seen it.

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LOVE ME.

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Place du Trocadéro

It seemed to be overcast everywhere in Paris except over the Eiffel Tower, which made for some awesome pictures.  Our plan was to head to the Arc de Triomphe, so we continued walking.  It was one of the most beautiful walks I’ve ever taken.  Wandering through the streets of Paris while the sun was setting over the blue rooftops.  It really is the most beautiful city in the world.

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Sweater – Petit Bateau

Pants – Tinsel

Shoes – Vans

Bag – Vincent Van Gogh Museum Gift Shop in Amsterdam

Bisous.