Stone's Throw

favorite quotes so far, stolen from "Book by Book" by Michael Dirda

2010-07-06T21:12:00.002-04:00

"So long as men praise you, you can only be sure that you are not yet on your own true path but on someone else's. -Friedrich Nietzsche

"Who speaks of victory? To endure is everything." -Rainier Maria Rilke

"It is a good lesson for a man to step outside the narrow circle in which his claims are recognized, and to find how utterly devoid of significance, beyond that circle, is all he achieves, all he aims at." -Nathaniel Hawthorne

"Where is your Self to be found? Always in the deepest enchantment that you have experienced." -Hugo von Hofmannsthal

"Character is fate." -Heracleitus

Embarrassed to say I haven't read any of these people. Maybe someday...

2010-06-15T22:08:00.002-04:00

Going to a silly conference tomorrow, where we will have a silly contest and have a round-table on general silliness. Then I will take the silly train over to my silly brother's apartment and visit his silly self. Which he, silly enough, is not aware of yet.

Helen Thomas is silly. She should go home to silly-land. Damn Helen Thomas.

Well, that experiment obviously failed

2010-04-26T22:54:00.003-04:00

Oh well. I think today I will write about Facebook status updates. Basically, you have a choice between thinking about your updates really hard so that you can write something slightly clever and impeccably copyedited, or just writing whatever crap occurs to you with no accounting for spelling and punctuation, all with a saucy devil-may-care attitude. Which option do *you* most often go with? How does it make you feel?

2010-04-17T20:55:00.002-04:00

I went to the CityLit Festival today at the Pratt Central Library. I mainly felt bad when I looked at all the local poets and authors hawking their wares because I knew I probably wasn't going to buy anything.

In the Poe Room, Stanley Plumly read his work in a soft, deep, grandfatherly voice. His reading was interrupted by persistent yelling from the poet downstairs. Not sure if Plumly's poetry is the kind that I enjoy listening to, exactly. There's a kind of poetry that works for me when read aloud, and a kind that I prefer to read on the page. And maybe the yelling from downstairs was just distracting. Too bad.

Laura Shovan was surprisingly excellent. I generally don't expect to like poetry readings, but her poems seemed to work out loud--not too hard to follow. She writes for kids, too, so I guess she needs to be clear, in general. I guess I'll plug her because she seems to do pretty awesome things. Can't find any of her poems online, though. Guess she wants us to buy her books. What nerve.

damn kids

2010-04-14T22:12:00.003-04:00

Today I was eating lunch and making phone calls at a cheap Chinese carry-out place. They have pretty great fried tofu. The joint has a singles counters that faces the window. Some kid walked by and threw a bouncy ball against the window at me.

I also saw some kids pretend-throwing each other into traffic tonight (around 9). What a fun game.

2010-04-13T20:41:00.002-04:00

Today I sat in my cube and did web stuff that I'm partially qualified for. As I've told many people, I work in a cube surrounded by empty cubes (with a few rotating temp nurses that share a cube). I had absolutely no reason to leave my desk. No reason. At. All.

I helped someone else with the copy machine today, too. I'm not qualified for that at all. You need to be uber-smart to keep up with some of these copy machines.

Some people are master schmoozers, and I'm not. I feel like I'd get a lot farther in life if I just schmoozed more. But not too much, because then people think you're lazy/obnoxious.

I'm challenging myself to find one thing that happens to me each day that is worth writing about. I guess that's why I've re-emerged. Maybe it'll be easier now that I'm pretty sure no one's reading this anymore. Yay!

Google Scholar

2007-12-23T11:51:00.000-05:00

Google is sooooooooo great. Googlable scholarly articles. If I wanted to pretend like I wanted to go to grad school, I would have resources to jump off from right here. Some of the articles are even free.

Krakow photos

2007-12-13T21:12:00.000-05:00

are up on flickr. Wawel and Auschwitz. Tulips and soldiers.

2007-10-18T21:47:00.000-04:00

I'm leaving for California on Saturday morning, partaking of the Bay Area's earthly delights, like avocados, if they're even in season. I don't know. But they don't have seasons over there, or electricity. It's like Amish-land over there. My friend told me, so it's true.

Since I'm changing planes on the way there and back, it's best probably to put all my stuff in my carry-on, which means buying stupid little bottles for all my toiletries and a special little bottle of contact solution so I don't pour perfume into my eyes like Diane Rehm. I've been listening to a lot of NPR lately, speaking of which. I feel like an old person when I drive. But it's where I get most of my news now, along with NYTimes online, which I casually glance at. I don't seem to have time to sit and read an entire article. I think paper has an advantage in that way. On my computer there are a thousand other little programs and links to distract me, but not paper.

Also, my friend Nuria is going to play the Monster Mash, upon my suggestion, for her English learners for Halloween. I'm so pleased! I'm not sure why.

2007-10-13T12:52:00.000-04:00

Today I was called a stupid, dumb bitch. Then the lady got back into her car and drove away, flashing me the finger. There's a marathon today, so a lot of roads were blocked off for certain periods of time, but no one knew where or when. So there was a lot of stopped traffic. This eloquent lady wanted me to drive up and block the intersection because the light was green, even though there was no place to go beyond the light. I think she was cracked out. I heard lots of honking, but I didn't think anyone was honking at me because there was no where for me to go and I was doing nothing wrong. But no, actually, total strangers will get out of their cars and yell at you for no reason. Because of the crack, or cocaine. Not for the craic; she was too angry.

Anyway, no RenFaire today, unfortunately, and especially unfortunate since I'll be out of town next weekend during its final go. Oh well. By the time I figure out what roads I can take to get out of Baltimore, it'll be way too late to make it worth it.

I think I'm discovering how low my paycheck really is, because rent certainly takes up more than half of it. So looking for a new job will be necessary, for more reasons than one. Ugh.

knit picking

2007-10-07T18:57:00.000-04:00

I haven't done much this weekend except knit. I bought some good stuff at Lovelyarns in Hampden, and found some unique, not-too-trendy patterns on Knitty.

I've been sick and tired this weekend, which I think is why I've been doing all the knitting. I could read, or write, or paint, or research grad schools or jobs, which are things I kick myself constantly for not doing, but knitting allows me to put all those things off and make Christmas presents early. It's not a total waste of time, but it is at the same time.

2007-10-04T21:35:00.001-04:00

I cooked from scratch for the first time today, which is good because I had been eating a lot of frozen crap since I moved in, and now I think I've caught a cold. So, I made soup. And Saturday there's a farmer's market, so I'll be visiting that for some seasonal veggies.

Someone at work said that he taught middle school English for ten years because he "loves literature," which makes absolutely no sense. He didn't like teaching, as it happens, which is why I work with him now. You can love literature and not teach it to ungrateful middle school kids. I guess he means that it was his dedication to the idea of making other people love literature like he does, for which there's something to be said, although you're setting yourself up for disappointment.

I like my housemates because they are delightfully nerdy. They're a good blend of social and interesting. I aspire to be a bit like that.

this has no point

2007-10-03T20:39:00.000-04:00

I still haven't put anything on my walls. That's one thing nagging at me right now. Also, the lack of TV in this house. I want a TV. I want to watch Ugly Betty and Project Runway and all that other jazz. Now look what I'm doing.....writing notes on the internet when I could be snoozing in front of the tube. Is there no justice?

I have a shorter commute now than I've ever had in my life, which makes me wonder if I could get up early enough to go running before work. Or bike to work. It's awfully ambitious, I know. I also think someone should harness people who use exercise bikes at gyms to some kind of power storage facility so that they could generate electricity. That would be cool....and green!

If I don't get a TV, I might bring my boombox downstairs so I can listen to the radio in the morning, at least. Find out what that wacky Ahmadinejad is up to next.

I'm here

2007-09-30T08:23:00.000-04:00

Yesterday my parents helped me move in to my room in Baltimore, and I'm aching a bit this morning. I'm sure Dad is, too. I've unpacked some boxes, but left a few because I have nowhere to put the stuff for the moment. Not until I take a trip to IKEA today. My closet is the tiniest thing on the planet. It's more of a glorified shelf. But I like my room, and the house. It's an old house, so the stairway is narrow and windey, the ceilings are high, the doors all have windows above them, and the floors are hardwood. My window doesn't seal completely, which could become a problem in the winter. I also have so many books. I don't think I realized the full extent until last night when I was opening some of the boxes. The time for getting rid of stuff was beforehand, I know, but I may have to see about getting rid of a few things over the next few months as well.

The neighborhood is nice and residential, full of a mix of young and old people. There are several "PEACE" banners, and lots of anti-war bumper stickers, so I figured it would be all right. My housemates are nice, although one of them just got in today and I have yet to see him since I moved in. I think they are not crazy, which is an important trait in people you live with. Excuse my terrible writing--it's early and I need to shower.

Baltimore-ho!

2007-09-14T12:16:00.000-04:00

Sorry for the long pause. I'm updating to say that I will most probably be moving to Baltimore at the beginning of October, as I just took a job over there. I'm a bit pleased, as I don't know Baltimore too well, despite having lived all my life within an hour's driving distance. I'm pleased because it's much cheaper than DC and NYC. Plus, pink flamingos.

Of course, this means I'll probably have to get a club for my car. Or live dangerously.

2007-07-31T16:14:00.000-04:00

I'm about 200 pages into the fifth Harry Potter book, which is quite suspenseful and a tad soap operatic from the beginning. Actually, I found it was making me kind of angry, though that might have been due to other factors, like having no car and being hormonal. But I think I also was getting a bit too invested in some of the characters and their situations.

I got my car back from the mechanic today after one of its tires disintegrated on the freeway. I was just driving along, when it suddenly started rattling horribly and pieces of rubber started flying back from the front. So I pulled over and called AAA, then debated whether or not to get out of the car to see what exactly had happened. I suspected I'd popped a tire, but there were so many cars driving by at top speed that I sat in the hot car for a good ten minutes, and then a guy in a big tow truck drove by and pulled over in front of me, trying to get me to let him tow my car to his shop. I figured that might not be a good idea and told him I'd wait for AAA. "Fine, wait three hours," and he walked away kind of huffily. And then AAA came fifteen minutes later! Good job AAA.

Yes I've been reading Harry Potter

2007-07-20T14:32:00.000-04:00

And catching the enthusiasm of everyone around me. I've almost finished with book three, so book 7 will have to wait a little while.

I am enjoying them. I think it's been a long time since I've read a series, and have forgotten how they can suck you in. I like book three quite a bit, and am surprised that the quality of writing for this one is much, much better than that of the first two books. Rowling also makes each book about 100 pages longer than the one before it, which makes me wonder if she fired her editor or something. I liked book 1 well enough, though if I didn't know that the series would get better, I would have stopped right there. Book 2 was tiresome through the first half with a lot of rehashing of what happened in book 1 and the introduction of characters I really didn't like that much. Then the plot picks up in the second half, and it's much more fun. Then there's real adventure and darkness and less school administration/unappealing characters stuff. Book 3 is fairly dark and plot-oriented from the beginning, and Rowling's rehashing is less clunky, which makes me like it better. And I think she saw things she could improve on in the previous books and used what she learned for book 3.

I was kind of against reading the series for a while just because reading is a time investment, and when I take the time to read a book, I want it to be something I know will be good. Hearing that the first two were hard to get into certainly didn't pique my interest. I think it was the movies that finally got me more interested, plus wanting to be part of the conversations everyone was having. And they're quick reads, despite the later ones being 600+ pages!! Which maybe...will take more time, in fact.

2007-07-17T18:28:00.000-04:00

So, after reading quite a bit about web design and stuff, I am reminded of the computer guy that worked at one of the businesses I used to work for. I think he was from Turkey, but I'm not sure. He was short and chubby and kind of kept to himself in his very large office. When someone had a problem with their computer and would go ask this guy for help, he would come over, fiddle around with the mouse a bit, then get up, shrug his shoulders and say, "It can't be done." You might shoot back with "really??" and he would hold his ground: "No, it is impossible." Then he'd go back to his office and play Solitaire, or whatever it was he did in there. So you were stuck with figuring it out on your own later after a few hours. And that's only if he was in the office. He would sometimes take a 2 or 3 hour walk during the day -- sometimes twice in one day. I don't really blame him; I like to take walks, too. But at most other companies that would probably get you fired. Fortunately, you had to try pretty gosh-darn hard to get yourself fired from this particular place.

A New, Job-Like Occupation (With 5% real juice!)

2007-07-17T12:20:00.000-04:00

I start an internship this Thursday with a book publisher, which I'm a bit excited and nervous about. It will be good experience and I hope to make some good connections. It is of course, unfortunately, unpaid, and I will have to continue the search for a paying job. But I think my motivation has lapsed into a kind of senioritis mode, where something in me feels like it's done all the real work and can stop now. Which is not the case, and I need to get back on the wagon. The wagon where I look for jobs. But enough about that.

I've been trying to learn about web design and layout, and want to alter a few things about this blog, but it's a bit hard with the new Blogger software. I'll figure it out.

I still have pictures to put up. After all this, I'm still not done! But I guess it's been sitting on the back-burner for a bit with all the other things happening in my life (or all the other things I've been trying to make happen).

2007-07-07T18:11:00.000-04:00

In honor of the Live Earth events taking place around the world, I thought I would direct you to this nifty tool on the Live Earth website where you can calculate your carbon footprint. My reading is, unfortunately, a bit larger than average.

What a bunch of crap

2007-07-05T12:40:00.001-04:00

Funny how I discover local news on a blog read world-wide. Photography is not allowed in the more recently developed downtown Silver Spring area. Courtesy of BoingBoing.

If they replaced the goddamned astro-turf with real grass, I might be less irate about this stupid rule.

2007-06-28T11:34:00.000-04:00

I'm long overdue in mentioning that, well, I've returned to the States. Most people I know already know this, but I didn't want to leave the blog with loose ends. I might still continue to post here, though obviously not about my travels. I haven't decided what direction this is going to take. I don't even know if people read this now(although I know random people in Iceland, Brussels, Ohio, and other places have stumbled upon it. Yeah, I'm talking to you!). It will probably just become a Web log in the traditional sense, with interesting links and little blurbs about them. And then maybe a post or two about my life. We shall see.

Right now, the dog is really dirty. I clipped off about an inch of his hair on the right side of his body, because that's the side that was available to me. So now he looks totally '80s, but still dirty. He can't be washed until he's been brushed, and he can't be brushed until he's got all the mats cut off. But I think he kind of revels in it. I showed him the 4 fistfuls of hair I had just cut off, and he gave it a good sniff, then kind of lay his nose in it. This was while I was watching Mythbusters, where they were trying to distract the guarddogs with different kinds of scents. They bought a thermos of wolf urine off of ebay, which I thought was pretty funny.

Beeeeeep

I promise I won't write about movies anymore.

2007-05-25T11:44:00.000-04:00

So more on Nice. My friend and I went to the pebbly beach, and the water was crystal blue but very cold.

We climbed up the tall hill, where the ruins of a cathedral were settled and where there were a few major cemeteries and some great views.

Those are the Alps back there.

We also took a day trip to Monaco while in Nice, where we mostly marched around, saw the palace from the outside, got ice cream, went inside the cathedral and checked out Grace Kelly's grave, and sunned on the concrete. Nope, no beaches in Monaco, or at least not that we could find.

2007-05-22T18:39:00.000-04:00

So, I'm back from Europe. I still didn't finish covering my trip to Lyon/Nice/Montpelier/Barcelona, and then my trip later to Krakow. But I got to see THREE movies, decent movies, on my flight to the U.S. I saw Children of Men, Letters from Iwo Jima, and Music and Lyrics, all of which I enjoyed. The best was definitely Iwo Jima. Children of Men had the flattest characters ever, even for a sci-fi/action movie, and Music and Lyrics was unrealistic, as most romantic comedies are. But I like Drew Barrymore and Hugh Grant, and will probably like anything they appear in. And I was told Music and Lyrics was bad, so I was pleasantly surprised when I ended up enjoying it. I enjoyed it for the cheesy made-up 80s music videos of Hugh Grant in a New Kids on the Block-style boy band. I'm sure many people would detest it for the same reason.

I'm really impressed at Clint Eastwood's attempt to tackle as big a project as two films representing two opposing sides of WWII. And impressed by how good they are. Critics liked Iwo Jima better than Flags of Our Fathers, but I think I can say I liked both pretty equally. And now I have to go.

More on Nice

2007-04-18T14:49:00.000-04:00

Nice was nice. The Greek Massilians called it Nikaia. The streets are colorful and beautiful, as are the markets and the ocean. In the old city, the streets are narrow and windey, lined with merchants of spiced salts, bathing suits, ice cream, and whatever else. But something nagged at me as I walked the streets my first day there. I was reminded of another place. Palm trees. Sunshine. Beaches. Herds of old people. In my head, Nice is an older, architecturally more interesting version of our own Florida. But I think destinations full of sun and surf are either going to be homes for retirement communities or frat boys, and the two groups shall ne'er coincide.

Near my hostel there were old people en masse, from all over France and Italy. Lots of Italians, actually. And lots of French spoken with Occidental, aka Italian, accents. But that couldn't compare to Monaco, which was like a a big movie set. I wondered where the real people in Monaco were. But yeah, they were just over the hill, down in the valley, nowhere near the touristy area.

But back to Nice. There were four people total in our room, my friend and me, and a 50-year-old mother and her 14-year-old daughter. The mom was nice and chatty, but a little bit desperate for some social time away from her sullen daughter who pretty clearly wanted to go home. The mom explained to us that she wanted her daughter to become more independent through this trip through experience of a less comfortable, less convenient week, where one has to dig a little to find what one needs. Hence they'd been staying in youth hostels and cooking their own food rather than going to restaurants and staying in nice hotels. In any event, her words kind of smacked of Calvin's dad when he would make Calvin do something he didn't want to do because "it builds character." But on the other hand, they're in freaking France. Maybe that shitty daughter could buck up and enjoy it a little.

So, we climbed to the top of the hill with the ruins of the cathedral, on the top from which you could see the entire city in the dusk. More pictures. My legs were aching from all those stairs though, and in my flip-flops. We also came across the Israelite Cemetery, which has a large urn containing soap made from the bodies of Jews. Yup. I'd heard about it of course, but this was my first time experiencing first hand a remnant from the holocaust. I felt a little sick, and I cried a bit.

So, there was the Israelite cemetery, and then the Catholic cemetery, which was much larger and more ornate. I mean, we're talking 6-foot marble angels perched atop of some crypts. Lots of Italian as well as French families.

The ruins themselves weren't all that interesting, except for the reconstructed mosaics along the walls. I've got some pictures.

2007-04-15T08:33:00.000-04:00

I thought about it some more afterwards, and decided that it's not the northern-U.S./southern Canadian accent I dislike, it's just that nasal, MTV intonation that a lot of people my age or younger over there use. So I guess I'm becoming an old person.

So I drank too much red wine with the Canadian folks I met during my last night in Lyon, and then with much effort rolled out of bed at 6:20 the next morning to pack and catch my train to Nice. The Canadian folks made some very strange comments to me, but it's hard for me to explain. I've found that when people who I only kind of know say very stupid things, I laugh out loud and make fun of them, then realize I shouldn't have laughed because they were in earnest when they said it and don't understand why I think it's funny. Maybe I need a lesson in social skills.

I couldn't find my room key that morning, so I spent too much time hunting around for it and ultimately missed my train. Luckily, the SNCF folk let me exchange my ticket for a cheaper one that left an hour later, but took much longer to get there. It turned out that the key was in my shoe. Anyway, I took the early morning train from Lyon to Nice, and took some poor-quality pictures of the countryside through the moving train window. It started to feel more and more like how I imagined Spain would look like: a dryer-looking landscape, red roofs, shorter houses, and more cacti.

I got to the hostel in the afternoon set up my bed. The room only had four beds, and two were occupied by a 50s-ish woman and her 14-year old daughter. The mother was nice enough and very friendly, and the daughter kept quiet around me most of the time. I made pasta for me and for my friend who was also staying there, and we sat with a quiet French guy who looked about our age. We spoke a bit, and he asked me where I was from. I told him Washington, D.C. There followed a silence where he just looked at me for a minute, like I was supposed to say more, so I said, "It's nice there. I like it." Then I think my friend changed the subject. You can make of that what you will. Maybe he was a bit strange.

Next day we headed to the beach, which is full of large pebbles. Hurts your bare feet. I wore a skirt out of enthusiasm for the warmer weather, but prematurely. It was definitely not bikini weather. But the ocean and beach were beautiful. I took for myself a purple pebble, and my friend teased me about bringing home rocks, considering my weight allowance. We walked everywhere that day, and finally got some crêpes aux bananes et chocolats and talked near the huge gaudy fountain that you see in all the tourist photos of Nice.

More to come.

Some traveling

2007-04-11T05:12:00.000-04:00

I'm on my two-week break at the moment, and so, being far from my family, instead of celebrating Easter or Passover, I'm touring the south of France and Barcelona. I could do worse.

From Brest, I took the 6h48 train to Lyon Friday morning the 30th. I was a bit scared, setting off by myself for two weeks, passing time on my 6-or-so hour train ride. The last time I stayed in a youth hostel was in Rome when I was about 20, and it was not the greatest experience ever. So upon arrival, I walked up a big hill (Fourviere) to my hostel. The workers there were nice and social, which helped me become a bit more at ease. I spoke French with them, and I think they appreciated it. In my room, I met a few Germans who had finished their Bac in Germany and were now teaching handicapped people in Alsace, and also a 50s-ish lady who seemed pleasant, if a little out there in that artsy kind of way. Anyway, when she asked me to open the window that night, even though it was freezing cold, and then snored the night away loudly and intermittently, she started to irk me. Towards three in the morning I had to sleep in a different room, which was available, fortunately. I also bought earplugs the next day. I ran into her in the kitchen the next day, where she told me in a pitiful voice that she hadn't slept well. "Me neither," I said in French, probably more snarkily than I should have. So then she went back to the room and cried. OK, maybe not because of me, or at least I hope not. But that's the sort of thing I do when I'm tired, so maybe it was because of me. I'm not worrying too much about it at this point.

The Germans were very mature, I thought, for being only 19 and 20, and were pretty cool. I also met a guy from New York state who was just there "to skate." Plus a couple of Americans, one from Georgia who was a post-doc in math who visits his family about once a year for Christmas. He really loves France, and had just gotten a job teaching in Manchester, so he'd be leaving soon. Also met a 50s-ish guy from Kansas who was retired and living in his sailboat and fed me all kinds of nonsense about being from southern Canada (Florida) and long-windedly telling me stuff I already knew. A lot of guys like to do that. I guess it´s kind of a selfish conversational style. But he also told me some interesting stuff about himself, and he was pretty amiable. Misunderstood a lot of what I said, but maybe I'm not the best at expressing myself. He told me he didn't like the fact that most guide books gave info on where the gay and lesbian bars were, but not on where straight guys can find women. So I told him he should write them a letter.

So at 9 in the morning I went to the Gall0-Roman museum, which is located near a couple of Roman arenas and ruined columns. It was sunny, but misty, and I took some pictures. The birds were singing, too. I learned that Lyon was called Lugdunum by the Romans, who borrowed the name of the local Gaulic god, Lug, to name the city. It was, I think, the name for one of the three main divisions the Romans made of France. The museum was huge and kind of exhausting, but had some cool Celtic tools and Roman gravestones.

Ate lunch after, wandered around looking for Monoprix so I could buy some groceries and earplugs, and eventually went to bed. Earplugs didn't really block out the snoring, but I was too tired to be kept up.

The next day I went out with the Germans to the musee des beaux arts, but first we stopped by one of those great open-air markets where you can find a zillion different kinds of fruits and veggies. Mounds of different kinds of olives, apples, strawberries, whatever. Hard to pass up, so I bought some olives. Then we found the museum, which is also huge. And tiring. But great sculpture and early 20th century paintings. They left me there because they finished early, and so I wandered around afterwards until I stumbled up on the cathedral, which is gorgeous. I've got a picture of that, too. I couldn't go in, though, because I wasn't dressed up enough. It's not a gothic cathedral, but more of a mix of styles. I won't do a good job describing it here.

I met that night a few Canadian girls, who I thought were American, of course. But pretty much everyone I meet who has a North American accent abroad is Canadian. Dunno why young Americans don't travel more. Anyway, I think I'm starting to dislike the northern US/south Canadian accent. Much too valley-girlish and nasal. Or it might just be those young whippersnappers. Yes. Anyway, I'm definitely more partial to the south-eastern US accent that isn't TOO southern, just well, more like *my* accent. Although I'm not sure what I sound like exactly.

So I'll write more later.

Pretty scary stuff

2007-03-21T03:36:00.000-04:00

Link to ADL's blurb on Jean-Marie Le Pen, in case you've never heard of him. A little Hitler-in-training. The people who join his cause are not "fuckwits" per se, as one person mentioned, but rather deluded and incomprehensible (to me). Denying the Holocaust after seeing all the evidence -- the camps themselves and the testimony of survivors -- is willful malevolence. Of course we hear the same shit from Ahmadinejad. What confuses me in this summary is that it says Le Pen is ridiculously anti-immigrant, but gets the most grassroots support in areas with a high immigrant population. ADL gives a partial explanation:

he has also concentrated in the recent past on organizing working people, small
shopkeepers, police and other professionals. This is an effort to form FN groups to compete with mainstream professional associations and trade unions. With Bruno Mégret, the
Vitriolles Mayor’s husband, as the source of most of his political campaigning and organizing efforts, Le Pen has demonstrated substantial grass-roots support. Not surprisingly, his
efforts have been most successful in areas where immigrants — mainly those from North
Africa— have been concentrated: Marseilles, Toulon and other cities and towns in the
Rhone delta region, and in suburbs of major cities, including Paris, where foreign workers
live in large housing projects." -ADL.

Here's a link to the NYTimes bit on him, and here's the text from the article:

Leader of Far Right in France Joins (and Jolts) Race for Presidency

By ELAINE SCIOLINO
Published: March 15, 2007

PARIS, March 14 — Jean-Marie Le Pen, the leader of the far-right National Front, officially registered as a candidate for president on Wednesday, adding new uncertainty to an already volatile campaign.

Mr. Le Pen, who has been a candidate in four previous presidential contests, deposited the signatures of 535 elected officials supporting his candidates to France’s Constitutional Council, which monitors French laws and validates elections.

The 78-year-old politician stunned France when he edged out Prime Minister Lionel Jospin, the Socialist candidate, in the first round of the presidential election in 2002. Mr. Le Pen was trounced by the incumbent president, Jacques Chirac, in the run-off.

Mr. Le Pen’s candidacy is likely to take some support in the first electoral round next month from the conservative candidate, Interior Minister Nicolas Sarkozy, who is leading in the polls, and from Francois Bayrou, the leader of the slightly more centrist Union for French Democracy party.

But neither the polls nor political analysts are predicting that Mr. Le Pen will make it to the second round this time.

The image of a far-right candidate winning 17 percent of the popular vote in 2002 still haunts French politics and the national consciousness.

In addition, many of Mr. Le Pen’s themes have been echoed by Mr. Sarkozy, who is likely to secure votes from a strong portion of Mr. Le Pen’s supporters in the second round.

Mr. Sarkozy, for example, has taken up a version of the Le Pen message of “France for the French,” telling those immigrants and their children that if they don’t love the values and traditions of France, they should leave.

Mr. Sarkozy’s proposal to create a ministry of immigration and national identity has been criticized by the opposition Socialists as a ploy to curry favor with nationalists on the right.

Mr. Le Pen has said that Mr. Sarkozy is trying to steal his thunder, accusing him of “coming into my territory.” But Mr. Le Pen’s candidacy will help to frame the electoral debate. Last week Mr. Sarkozy said it would be “undemocratic” if Mr. Le Pen on the far-right was excluded from the race along with candidates on the far-left.

According to an Ipsos poll released on Wednesday, Mr. Le Pen would receive 13 percent of the first-round vote on April 22. Public opinion polls in France use quota samples instead of probability samples, and therefore a margin of sampling error can not be calculated.

Mr. Le Pen’s views continue to shock. Last month, he dismissed the attacks of September 11 as “an incident,” calling the loss of life in the attacks less dramatic than others, such as the allied bombing of Dresden at the end of World War II and one month’s death toll in Iraq.

Mr. Le Pen’s strong showing in 2002 was both a reflection of a lack of enthusiasm for Mr. Chirac on the right and Mr. Jospin on the left and a large field of candidates that split the vote. Mr. Le Pen’s anti-immigrant and anti-crime platform also boosted his popularity.

This time, Mr. Le Pen had to struggle to secure the necessary signatures from at least 500 elected officials. Even though sponsorship of a candidate does not carry with it an endorsement, many of those who supported Mr. Le Pen five years ago said they were ostracized after he made it to the second round.

"There was a deliberate, organized attempt at sabotage," said Mr. Le Pen as he arrived at the Constitutional Council. "It was very worrying. It was harder than in 2002."

The article doesn't explain HOW they were ostracized. I don't have all that much background in French politics, and I have others things I need to get done today, so this is just a starting point for more reading. Of course, there are also French candidates who are normal and NOT racist, like Segolène Royale. Who I should also read more about. OK, I'm out.

More on the break

2007-03-20T17:53:00.001-04:00

stmichel windows
Originally uploaded by Sarah Grrrrr.

I took this photo, among others, from Mont St-Michel in Normandy while traveling with my parents.

After my first week of hanging around Brest/visiting Ile d'Ouessant, they came to Rennes from Paris and I met up with them there. We then drove to Vitré, a city only half an hour away, where we walked through quaint medieval streets and gawked at the massive castle in the middle. All of the western Brittany cities have castles for defense purposes (mostly against the French).

We stayed at a hotel in Rennes, then got up the next day to go to a chateau nearby where we stayed for one night. There was a count who lived there and rented out rooms to pay for its maintenance. He also had a cat, who was cute.

There were tame donkeys, a coypu, and geese on the property, all of which I got photos of. I thought the coypu was a swimming squirrel at first. Then a beaver. But of course it had to be something I'd never heard of, let alone know how to spell. It's a "racondin" in French.

I'll write more later.

A bit on my vacation

2007-03-16T07:00:00.001-04:00

ouessant waves
Originally uploaded by Sarah Grrrrr.

I started a draft of an entry on my past 2-week break, but have since kept having to edit it so it doesn't say, "So, I got back from Tours yesterday" or "This past week has been a gradual easing back into the assistant routine" because those temporal references keep changing each week. Since then, I've been to other cool places, and so now I REALLLY need to finish this durn entry on Ile d'Ouessant and the Loire Valley. I think I get a bit intimidated about writing in this blog, and need to just spit out those entries without thinking about how boring they might be or how banal I might seem. So here goes again.

I'll start by giving you some excerpts from emails I sent to a few people.

"I was on vacation these past couple of weeks resting and
avoiding work of any kind, and then I toured the Loire
Valley with my parents for 6 days, which was awesome.
We ate yummy food, saw awesome castles, and I
discovered the beautiful city of Tours, which is full
of very attractive young people and sunshine and
outdoor terraces and old buildings and stuff like
that. [It, unlike Brest, wasn't completely razed by French, American and British forces to purge the bastard Germans during WWII. Also, know that I like anything old. Although I've got to break the old-thing viewing up during the course of the day with tea breaks to rest my butt.]"

Another email:

"I just got back from my two-week vacation, and I get another two-week vacation in about a month and a half. Being a French gov't worker is great, except for the whole teaching thing. [Okay, teaching is not that bad. I was actually sorry to have to let go of a few groups of kids a couple of weeks ago when the new cycle started.] I stayed in Brest for one week, with a day trip to Ile d'Ouessant, which was wild and rugged with lots and lots of sheep [some black ones!] and ruined houses and jagged cliffs and blue water. We rented bikes, and it was hard because it was extremely hilly and there were tons of wind because it's an island and then we got rained on by freezing needles of water, and by the end we were both soaked. [I got seasick], but more so on the way there then on the way back. We get off at the next stop after Nuria got sick, and we hitched a ride with her boyfriend, who was nice enough to pick us up after we waited an hour in the pouring rain and wind."

The cliffs and waves were gorgeous, and the rocks looked a bit like those sand castles you make on the beach when you drip wet sand into little piles. Probably better visited in the summer, when the weather isn't as biting. The water was more intensely blue than any ocean I've seen before (I only have the Atlantic and the Pacific coasts to go by).

The island is the proud possessor of the most powerful lighthouse in the world, la phare du Creac'h. I took a picture.

By the way, I only work three days a week now, which is great. No, that's not actually the norm in France. They work a bit more than that. The less I have to do, the lazier I become about doing my remaining work. I acquired senioritis my senior year of high school, and it's still clinging to me like the smell of rotting potatos. Which I had a bunch of, by the way, in my cupboard, and they do indeed smell quite bad.

To tide you over

2007-02-28T15:48:00.001-05:00

brest harbor sunrise
Originally uploaded by Sarah Grrrrr.

I'll update soon on the last two weeks. In the meantime, here's a picture of Brest's harbor at sunrise, where you can catch the ferry to go to the islands.

vacationing

2007-02-22T11:03:00.000-05:00

I just got a big ol' check in the mail from my housing agency, which I'll be depositing today. Thanks Caisse d'Allocation Familiale!

I also just got back from the Loire valley today, which I visited with my parents. There is some beautiful countryside and chateaux over there. We saw Chenonceau, where Diane de Poitier and Catherine de Medici had their rivalry, Amboise, where Anne of Brittany moved to, and Chambord, where Louis XIV had an extremely gold-bedecked room. Not that that was beautiful, just worth taking a picture of.

It was great to see my parents, and super to get out of rainy Brest.

Now I have to go grocery shopping.

Someone should inflict one of these on me

2007-02-08T02:47:00.000-05:00

Clocky, the runaway alarm clock. It would totally serve me right, considering how many times I've slept through something I was supposed to go to. I mean, I haven't slept through my alarm THAT many times, but maybe more than is respectable.

Brest Carousel during Noël

2007-02-08T02:41:00.001-05:00

Brest Carousel during Noël
Originally uploaded by Sarah Grrrrr.

Starting the first of December, there was a big marché de Noël in Brest in the large paved space below the mairie. It was a big Christmas festival with rides, food, music, and lots of little trinkets and things to buy.

2007-02-06T16:13:00.000-05:00

I made leek soup last week. I've been putting leeks in the soup I make this entire winter.

"Poireau" is French for "leek," which I didn't realize.

Maybe that's why I'm still thin? My god it really WORKS!

fromages

2007-02-05T14:08:00.000-05:00

At this point, I think I've written all that's interesting that I can recall that happened to me in Liverpool. Note how I said "recall." It's my fault for not writing more stuff earlier.

On to other topics, I am enjoying my students this cycle. I have two groups of kids who are of above-average initiative in the lycée and don't just come in and stare blankly into space, or pretend what I'm teaching is too stupid/not cool enough for them, which usually indicates that they don't understand. It's nice.

I shouldn't be so mean when talking about the others, though. Remembering how much trouble I had with aural French in high school (being a very visual learner), I have to remind myself that those kids are me. It's way too easy to tune out a language that's not your native tongue. Especially if you're tired, which these kids are, undoubtedly. They are at school from 8 to 5:30 every day except Wednesday, where they're only in school from 8 to noon, unless they have detention, when they are there for three more hours after twelve. And then of course there are the assistants' classes that are scheduled whenever there are free periods and other empty slots, like lunchtime. I teach three classes a week at 12:45, cutting my lunch period and those of my students in half, where I get to eat because I'm faculty and can cut the line, but the students are forced to get behind everyone else, even with an early lunch pass. Some of them also take a long bus ride into school, sometimes as long as 2 hours, from the sparsely populated Breton countryside. So as you can imagine, the odds are not in their favor, nor consequently mine.

But back to the classes I like. One of the students is a Dutch girl who speaks English, German, and French, all of them perfectly I'm sure, and her Dutch accent reminds me of how cool Dutch people are, and she exemplifies the difference between Dutch and French cultural types, where the French students are quiet and don't dare say anything, while this girl is always raising her hand, and is never afraid to say that something is kind of stupid, albeit nicely, when she thinks it's stupid. She told me at the very beginning of the cycle, after I asked them what they would all be interested in, that she'd prefer that I not teach about the holidays because the assistants do that every year, and that it's very boring. Done. No holidays. I think they're boring to talk about, too. Plus I'd feel a need to talk about Jewish holidays, too, and then they would just get very confused because there wouldn't be enough time to explain anything. Or they would just stare at me blankly, which ain't nothing new.

Went back down to Quimper last weekend and checked out the Musée départmentale breton, which was bigger than I expected. We didn't even see the top floor. Or maybe it was the top two floors? Tons of Breton costumes, ceramics, paintings, history, and pre-Breton artifacts from the Romans and the Celts. I stayed in Quimper the night before at a very nice fellow assistant's place, and after the museum visit hopped on the train back home.

I also saw Blood Diamond last night, and damn, that is a violent and upsetting movie. I saw it dubbed in French. It was good, but damn. I need to see it in English because I know I missed some subtlety. The dubbers unfortunately gave Jennifer Connelly this high-pitched, nasal voice. She was playing the "American" character, so maybe they chose that voice because of that. C'est fromage.

Adiós.

Climbing up the cliffside in La Roche-Maurice (Ar Roc'h-Morvan in Breton)

2007-01-28T14:49:00.001-05:00

Climbing up the cliffside in La Roche-Maurice (Ar Roc'h-Morvan in Breton)
Originally uploaded by Sarah Grrrrr.

La Roche church door

2007-01-28T14:48:00.001-05:00

la roche church door
Originally uploaded by Sarah Grrrrr.

Swirly Celtic patterns and funny little saints, oh my!

Photos from La Roche-Maurice

2007-01-28T14:47:00.001-05:00

la roche reddish
Originally uploaded by Sarah Grrrrr.

Photos from La Roche-Maurice

2007-01-28T14:46:00.001-05:00

la roche bridge 2
Originally uploaded by Sarah Grrrrr.

2007-01-25T16:56:00.000-05:00

I have ten gazillion pictures of La Roche-Maurice on my flickr site, if you're at all interested. There are still more coming, too. Don't worry, pictures of Liverpool will be posted sometime next year, I'm sure of it.

I am silly and didn't realize you could subscribe to podcasts for FREE, I thought you had to pay for them. But then my dad told me they are free. So I've been downloading the one for Kill Rock Stars and Learn Spanish With Coffee Break Spanish. Neato. I also subscribed to the New York Times headline guide, but then unsubscribed because I guess I can just read them myself, can't I?

I took a day during the last week to go to Chester, which is about an hour's train journey east (I think). It was called Dewa in Roman times. The Romans built a wall all around the city and had a regular little metropolis inside. There's an archaelogical dig of an amphitheater that was covered over by tarps for protection, but I read a bit about it in the museum nearby. The amphitheater became a big dump after the Romans left it, and then people started building their houses inside and on top of it. Now, they think they've uncovered some stuff that was there before the amphitheater.

So I also visited a church there, of St. John the Baptist, which was pretty impressive on the inside. The vikings built it, originally. I almost locked myself in the place, though. It was just a different sort of latch, though, and so I figured it out and freed myself. There's nothing scarier than thinking you're locked in a gothic church by yourself.

I had started this entry much earlier, than forgotten about it.

2007-01-20T14:02:00.000-05:00

So, apart from shopping and sleeping, we didn't do a whole lot for the first couple of days. Liverpool is full of bleached-blond, hair-straightened, orange-skinned girls with thick scouse accents. A scouse accent sounds a bit Welsh (at least to my uncultured ear) and a bit Dublin. But quite harsh.

We headed to Marks and Spencer in Wallasey, a very chichi, gourmet supermarket, for dinner-stuffs. Great vegetarian food. Britain is probably the best place in Western Europe for vegetarians. Because it was the day before the day before Christmas, people were elbowing each other out of the way to pick up the last lobster-and-champagne deals for Christmas dinner, small children made themselves into little boulders to block folks from the pudding aisle, and.....well, small children I think were exploited quite a bit in attempts to grab the last turkey dinners with bacon.

Christmas itself with Tami's family was good. I think the highlight was the Christmas pudding, which I'd never had before. You pour brandy on it and light it on fire, and it produces a blue flame for a couple of seconds. Then you pour brandy cream on it. Mmmmm. This one was not made with suet. I tried to take a picture, but it unfortunately didn't turn out.

I'm not sure if there are Americans who eat Christmas pudding for Christmas. Are there? People give each other fruit cake, but that's always sort of a joke, isn't it? At school, teachers were always asking me about American Christmas traditions, and so I either have to tell them I'm Jewish and thus completely ignorant, which isn't true, or tell them something generic, like "buying presents" and "Santa Claus coming down the chimney" and "eating dinner," which is usually turkey, creamed peas, cranberry sauce, and/or pumpkin bread at my grandma's house. I have no idea whether those are traditional foods, though. I actually did some research, but it seems that most families have their own traditions, depending on where the family originally came from. America's just a big mish-mosh. Anyone who tries to claim that such-and-such is a universal American Christmas tradition, apart from presents and santa claus and jesus, is a toss-pot. Thank you Liverpool friend Tami for that bit of slang.

Link to zillions of maps of historic Europe

2007-01-18T16:26:00.000-05:00

Real update to follow soon. Enjoy!

More on Liverpool (I know, I'm lazy)

2007-01-16T15:37:00.000-05:00

What else? Before I start scrounging around for those CAF forms, I'll try and talk a bit more about Britain. I think that first week I did a lot of sleeping, shopping, and seeing Tami's relatives. There was a trip to Ikea at one point, where we spent several days. She has a huge family, at least on her mom's side. They're all Irish-Pakistani-British.

The day after Christmas, Tam and I meant to get up ass-crack early to check out the boxing day sales in Liverpool, but Tami's alarm didn't go off, and since she wasn't up, I figured I'd sleep some more. So we got into town at around 9-ish, I think, and there was nothing left but size 16s and 4s, British sizes, and it was stuff like glittery purple stretch tops that bulge at the waist.

Anyway, Christmas dinner was nice, just four of us. Had Christmas pudding, which you light on fire; always great. Later that week, Tami, Tam's mom, and I went into Liverpool to do some sightseeing. We took the ferry across the Mersey river and took some photos of the picturesque Liverpool skyline with the cormorants on top of the Liver building. There's also a little fountain kitty corner to the building that people call "the Liver puddle." I made that up.

We walked along the Dock and I took some pictures with my cell phone camera (it was dark by that point and the lights reflected in the water were quite pretty). There were lots of touristy shops, all of which had Beatles memorabilia and stands of magnets and posters with made up coats of arms for names like "Smith" and "Foster." I thought about getting one for "Green" because I thought it was kinda funny, but didn't because it really wasn't worth the money.

That's it for now.

Ishmael

2007-01-16T14:16:00.000-05:00

Ishmael Beah, someone I knew at Oberlin who lived on my floor freshman year, was a child soldier in Sierra Leone, capturing his experiences in a memoir to come out next month. He was one of the most considerate guys I knew in college, and I only had an inkling of some of the things in his past that he mentions. I'm glad he has the talent and ability to make people aware of horrific situations that need attention.

This is bad for people like me

2007-01-09T08:03:00.000-05:00

Publishers Group West filed for bankruptcy after Christmas, meaning that its assets (profits from the fall season) have been frozen, which then means all the independent publishers that used PGW as their distributor won't see their profits. This will mean a lot of publishing house layoffs, and a lot more people looking for publishing jobs. BoingBoing links to more information.

2007-01-07T12:19:00.000-05:00

So, Liverpool was all right. I did the obligatory Cavern Club visit, which was where the Beatles had their first big gig. Except it moved since they played there, and is now located around the corner from where it had been. You have to walk down a load of stairs to get to the actual club, but I sort of like that. Gives it a masonic, dungeony feel. Lots of underground arches. I love old buildings!

Anyway, we watched about five bands play, two or three of which I remember liking. One of them sounded like AC/DC, which is okay with me, and the final group, the Screaming Citizens, were tight and good. Their music was sort of jazz alternative funk rock, or something. There was no posing, no boring solos (only good ones), and the arrangements were interesting enough for me not to mind any self indulgence that might have occurred.

One of the earlier groups, whose name I've forgotten, was composed of high school-age members. The lead singer was blond and eager to please, and started the set with the painful, "Hi, I'm John Lennon, and this is the Beatles. Haha! I guess you've heard that one before." To their credit, they spoke to the audience quite a bit, more than the rest of the groups there.

We left there at around 12-ish and got to bed at a decent hour.

Flippin' Ferry Book

2007-01-02T06:09:00.000-05:00

I know I need to update on these past two weeks. I think what I'll do is write a little bit about my break every day for the next however many days until I've written about all the interesting parts/parts I remember. I know it's not the most authentic, up-to-the-minute way to keep a journal, but it's my journal and I'll do what I want. So, I started writing the text below about a week ago:

1/3/07

I'm writing from Tami's mom's house in Wirral, UK at the moment. I've been here since the 22nd of December, and will remain until Sunday the 7th. It's been an interesting time so far.

We bought plane tickets online through flybe, expecting to travel out the afternoon of the 21st (I took off a day of school for it) and to arrive that same afternoon a bit later. We hauled ourselves over to the Brest airport (which is teeny), only to find our flight had been canceled (first delayed a couple of hours, then no information at all, and then "vol terminé"). Great! So they put us up in a hotel for the night, and we got free drinks.

Actually, they did nothing. They waited for each person in the mass to come up to the desk and ask what they should do, and then they shrugged their shoulders in response. Shoulder shrugging is very French. Actually, if you really want to look French, you need to puff your cheeks with air, raise your eyebrows, and exhale while shrugging your shoulders, a polite way to say "I don't give a shit." Raising your hands upward with elbows down whilst shrugging is optional.

So, we gathered a couple of other people (one other assistant, the other a non-French-speaking Brit) and grabbed a taxi to the bus station (20 minutes), took the bus to Roscoff (2 hours 15 minutes), got dinner at the ferry station, which was surprisingly tasty and had great steak (so I heard). We got a four person cabin about the size of a double in Dascomb or Barrows (Obies should know) with four bunk beds. Apart from the crampedness and overheating, it wasn't too bad for what we paid, which was not a lot. The ferry left at 10 and arrived at about 7 in the morning (9 hours). Took the 11:15 train to Birmingham from Plymouth, which took four hours. Tami lept for joy to be on British soil, and I guess I was disinterested, for the most part. I was also very tired. So we got picked up from the Birmingham train station by Tami's aunt and mom and headed for her aunt's house.

1/7/07

So we spent a little time there, ate some smoked salmon and profiteroles and stuff, and I met more relatives. Tami has a huge family, and pretty much every single one of them didn't want me to feel left out during Christmas, so they each got me a little gift. This added up to many, many little gifts, but I don't mind, certainly.

We drove for two hours to Tami's mom's house, then I don't remember the rest of the day because I think I was asleep. Ta da!

On my knees

2006-12-21T04:39:00.000-05:00

The one and only chair I use for my built-into-the-wall desk is covered with papers and stuff that I had to move off of the coffee table (which is actually my suitcase) because I'm taking it with me to Liverpool today, by way of Birmingham. So, no desk chair for me, just the hard floor and some knee padding. But the chair was broken anyway. Furniture shopping seems like so much effort when I can just use my bed as a bench/work table, use the floor as a dining room table, and use my suitcase as a coffee table. Not to be used for coffee, of course, but for what coffee tables are actually used for: a surface on which to put old magazines, newspapers, books, important papers, unused classroom photocopies, lightbulbs, envelopes, birthday cards, and whatever else doesn't fit on my shelf.

I'm leaving my forest of junk piles in French Fry Land to trek into the land of sheep and rain: Great Britain. GB most definitely has more sheep than any other country on earth, excepting maybe New Zealand. I don't really know, actually. But I'm looking forward to it. My only fear is I'll lose all the French I've collected so far. And that I won't be able to figure out British train/bus lines. But at least I can get directions in English.

I've been doing a bit of traveling to some of the neighboring towns around Brest, as well. I went to La Roche in Finistère last weekend, and it was quite pretty. It's even smaller than Landivisiau, but with more things to see. There's an old church with skulls and crossbones all over it that I couldn't enter because it was locked. I'll be posting lots of pictures to flickr when I get the time. I also hopped on over to Landerneau, but it was raining for most of my time there, so I didn't see all that much. Pics for that will be up soon, too.

I guess you can expect another hiatus, as I won't have access to my computer across the Channel. Wish I could write something more interesting here, but I've got to run some errands before I leave.

2006-12-08T14:13:00.000-05:00

Here's a picture to whet your appetite for pictures from Landivisiau. This is the first orange slug I've ever seen. It was on the side of the road. Hope it doesn't get smooshed.

Winter here is very dark and damp. Not all that cold, temperature-wise, but the wetness makes it feel cold. Kinda like Oberlin, but without snow. After getting my computer set up by this scruffy tech guy at the local netcafé, I was asked why I had chosen to come to "the asshole of the world." I explained to him that it wasn't really by choice, although I guess I'm kidding myself. I chose to come to France, I chose to live in Bretagne, and I chose to live in Brest rather than Landivisiau, where there are more people and bars and movie theaters and buses. No public transit in Landivisiau, short of the train, which stops running at around 7 PM.

I actually don't get to go to the côte d'emeraude tomorrow because we couldn't secure a rental car. I guess you have to reserve them a couple of weeks in advance. So instead I went by myself to Landerneau today and took pictures. It rained, but not as viciously or for as long as in Brest. I'll post the pics eventually.

I've finished with my first cycle of students, and have started with the new 12 classes. I think I'm definitely getting the hang of it, as far as figuring out what will interest them and what won't. To be sure, there isn't THAT much that interests them that also interests me. Like, I'm not going to give a talk about "Prison Break," which is apparently really big over here. Or football. Sorry. They can do that on their own time. I thought maybe I could teach them country line dancing because a couple of the students had expressed interest in it, out of the blue, but I'm not a dance teacher. Even an easy dance teacher. Who am I kidding? So I played some Emmylou Harris for them and gave them the lyrics, but we didn't dance. And I think the two who had said they wanted to dance earlier kind of swore at me in French under their breath. But they were kind of a pain to have in class, so I don't feel that bad. And country's not my thing, goddamnit.

So now I've got R.E.M.'s Eponymous, and I'm playing "It's the End of the World as We Know it (And I Feel Fine)" for them. I erased some of the lyrics so they could fill them in themselves. I didn't really expect them to be able to do it. Is that a bit sadistic of me? To have them do something they aren't really able to do? I really did it because I wanted them to hear the song, since it's played approximately 100 times a day on alternative/classic rock stations in the States. And it's fun. So it's not sadistic. Maybe I need to try harder to succeed at this sadistic high school teacher thing.

pictures!

2006-11-29T04:18:00.000-05:00

If you join Flickr, which is free, and add me as a contact, you can see the pictures I've taken (both public and private) and have just begun to upload. As of now, there are a few pictures taken around Landivisiau. I'll have more up soon. My username is Sarah Grrrrr. That's with 5 r's.

That entry on Paris I'd been meaning to post

2006-11-25T09:46:00.000-05:00

I’m back from Paris. Went to meet up with my friend Bénédicte from Strasbourg, stayed with Susan's family near the Dôme des Invalides, where Napoléon is buried.

I mostly galivanted around the city for a few days and hung out with Bénédicte in the evenings. Met a few of her friends at a party, and at more fish than I would have liked. It was a fun time.

So, I arrived late evening on Sunday, was given several sets of keys and codes for the elevator and doors, shown my room -- which was on the sixth floor and disconnected from the rest of the house -- and then fumbled around in the dark looking around for the shower. Finally successfully took a shower, then went to bed. Most apartments in Paris are supposed to be like this, having several different codes to get in, one for the front door, one for the inside door, one for the elevator, etc. etc.

Monday, got up, met Béné for lunch by the Musée Beaubourg (Centre Georges Pompidou), ate at a Spanish restaurant (tapas, seafood paella, and sangria), walked around the area, then went by myself to the modern art museum, which was huge. There was quite a lot of crap hanging in there, including a bunch of oriental rugs draped over benches that « the artist invites you to sit on, but not more than three to a bench. » On the floor I explored, though, there were some very neat projects, including a fish tank with a mirrored bottom and clear plastic amoebae-looking things floating on the top, which was all then projected onto the wall. Hard to describe exactly, but it was cool to look at.

Met up with Béné again for dinner, waited for her at the wrong place, at which point I called her and she found me. I guess maybe I had a lot of things to remember at once. So then we ate at a little French place, both ate the same thing (fish wrapped in foil, french onion soup), except I also had wine and crème caramel, while she had water and yogurt with honey. I love french onion soup and fish with caramelized onions. Ummmmmm. Then I went home to bed. Too tired to take a shower; I waited a long time at the RER station, missing several trains that would have taken me home had I only realized it. Then I figured it out. So I got home kinda late.

The next morning, I went over to Chatelet to meet Béné for breakfast, and was 20 minutes late because I’m a doofus who can’t find her way out of an empty room. We then ate yummy yummy spreads on bread at a chain café that I’ll remember the name of in a second. It has chains in New York and LA. Had praline spread, caramelized apple-and-pear spread, honey, strawberry jam, apricot jam, and butter on pieces of bread. I also botched a soft-boiled egg and got egg yolk everywhere. Yay!

Went to the Rodin museum near the place where I was staying, and it was full of lovely Rodin pieces, but way too crowded with people. Why can’t I be the one and only tourist?

Too tired to make my way to the Louvre, so I went back and took a nap. Then woke up to pick up wine for Olivier’s party (who is a friend of Bénédicte), and picked up cider as well. Walked in circles looking for the Ecole Militaire Metro, finally went to a different Metro on the same line. Went to the party. Olivier and his friend Cédric love Sex and the City! But really, who doesn't? I guess a lot of people, actually. There were home-made cosmopolitans and mojitos for everyone, as well as weird food like fish egg cream spread (tarama). They invited me to a tripe party on Saturday which, as much as I love the smell of pig intestine, I had to pass on. ‘Tis a pity, really. But it’s okay, because I got to go to a knitting-and-hamburger party the next night.

So then I went to the Louvre, which is godawful. Especially when you’re trying to get out. The exit is not clearly marked, so everyone’s kinda milling about, stopping, looking at their map, milling about some more, etc., etc. I finally overheard the leader of some tour group shouting, « exit is this way! This way! » and pointing. So I made my escape.

While I was there, though, I checked out the Mesapotamian stuff (mostly Sumerian cuneiform) and then the French and Italian painters. Then I was tired of the place and left after much milling around.

I then met Olivier and Béné at Olivier’s place. We went to Olivier’s cousin Laure’s place, where we ate leftovers. Béné re-learned how to knit, I ate some tuna, and the rest ate leftover hamburgers. We also watched some bad French TV where « les has-beens » sang French torch songs in Elizabethen-style costumes. Strange indeed. Then we listened to Mylène Fermier, who isn’t half bad.

Next day, I met Béné for brunch at a little salon du thé, ate a horrible thing called a « polognaise », which is like fruitcake soaked in rum with sugary meringue on top, which isn't so great if it’s the first thing you eat in the morning. I think it was actually fruitcake soaked in that liquor they use to make ker, an apperitif they drink in Paris. Then we walked around St. Michel, peeked at the Sorbonne, the Panthéon, and the mairie, then said goodbye. I took the little time I had left to see the Panthéon, window shop, and eat a sandwich. I rushed home and packed, then rushed to the bus, then rushed to the train. I made the train.

2006-11-25T04:08:00.000-05:00

I should tell you that last weekend I took the train down to Quimper, then took a bus to Pont L'Abbé to go to a party held by a couple of assistants. We all slept on the floor in one of the rooms, with a space heater, of the very large student/assistant residence owned by the school. It's quite nice, actually; they have the run of the restaurant (cafeteria and its cooking facilities) while school is not in session, plus there's a lounge with a pool table and several sets of foosball. The classrooms are scattered throughout. It's hard for me to describe very well, obviously. But enough of that.

The next day we all rented bikes and traveled around the town of Pont L'Abbé, which the two assistants who lived there complained was teeny weeny with nothing to do. Actually, it's NOT small at all and very scenic, with what looked like a fair amount to do, compared to Landivisiau where I teach. There's a huge nature preserve with a lake. I want a huge nature preserve with a lake, goddamnit. In Brest through my window I can see clear across to the next concrete building. Sometimes I even see people hang their linens out of their windows. Or someone's escaped poodle down below.

Pont L'Abbé had the first ruined church that I'd seen so far on this trip. I love ruins. It was locked up, though, so no going inside. I'll post a picture soon (I finally have internet installed).

On another note, I had a dream last night that I was diagnosed with adult onset ADHD. That explains everything, doesn't it?

2006-11-23T06:21:00.000-05:00

Today is a beautiful, sunny day, of which there are few here in Bretagne. My English is going to crap, by the way. But I am learning a little Spanish, and always more French. My birthday was all right. I got Grandpa and Grandma's gifts in the mail I had kind of a fight with the arsey France Telecom people, who have the most astronomical prices for technical help, (By the end of the conversation I told them, "C'est le vol! le vol!" Which is not good French, but I was upset.) but my two other assistant friends here helped me calm down. Then we went out to see Fast Food Nation (they had dubbed Borat in French, which kinda takes the fun out of it).

FFN was a terrible movie. It's probably an interesting and informative book, but the film was tiresome and didn't know which of it's three story lines to focus on, tried to cram documentary-style explanations of the meat-packing industry into stilted conversation between fictional annoying lefty college students, one of whom was played by Avril Lavigne, who's a terrible actor with terrible blond hair extensions. I had hoped this was going to be a documentary-style film, but it tried to be a serious, dramatic movie without a good story line. Or too many story lines. Anyway, it didn't work. The strongest parts were the scenes with the Mexican immigrants, who had

Also, I found a nice little Irish pub near my place where there seems to be a fairly young crowd.

2006-11-21T03:59:00.000-05:00

I had a class with the 1STG, the first year commercial class, and the little mutes can't be bothered to say a damn thing. I bring in a very short article -- about a third of a page long -- on Charles Rangel's draft legislation. The one where he tries to institute the draft again. And I ask them if they have questions. I ask them if there are parts they don't understand. I ask if they need help with vocab. And they're too lazy to respond.

I mean, if they want to all work at McDonald's after lycée, I guess that's their choice.

I'm pretty irate right now.

Space Saver

2006-11-12T08:41:00.000-05:00

Hi there. I have a whole long entry on my trip to Paris, saved on my pin drive, but when I try to load to blogger on the school computer, it doesn't work. Grrrr. I will figure this out, promise.

My TA friend lent me this great British book, Is It Just Me, or Is Everything Shit?. I thought at first it would just be an A-Z, not-that-funny rant on pop culture, but it actually IS funny. It's written by two men, which sometimes becomes clear when they write about IKEA, tat (novelty) stores, and LUSH, the soap shop. But it's still hilarious.

I showed some American magazines to one of my seconde classes, where I had them pick a picture from one of them and describe it to me in five sentences. I left them in the room for a minute to grab the CD player from the library (the C.P.E. Don't ask me what it stands for, because I don't remember.) for later, came back, just as one of the students ran back to her seat like lightning, while I glanced down and one of the students was looking at a picture that she quickly turned over, giggling, when I came to look. I thought, Oh, crap. There's probably a naked women or something that I overlooked. Forgetting, of course, that this is France and every magazine, even the ones for kids, will have pictures of naked women. OK, not really. The picture was from the New Yorker, so I paged through it later and found the picture, which was a black-and-white photo of a rustic-looking man and boy with a load of unskinned, dead rabbits.

I'm not really sure what was running through that girl's head in covering it up so quickly, I mean, they have butcher shops everywhere in France with neatly-priced, bright red guts on display. Hmmm. Guess it's just not fitting classroom material, dead rabbits.

I'd like to rant a little bit right now on how people "take care" of their dogs and cats here in Brest. For one thing, people just let their dogs run around, leash attached, but without a person on the other end of it. I ran into a little Pomeranian trailing a leash behind, so I tried to get a hold on it to check for tags. Then a lady called out from inside the shop, "Non, c'est bon!", indicating that it was her dog. So then, why not tie it up, so people don't worry? But maybe that just means most people around here wouldn't worry, just me. Grrrr.

Also, every bedraggled person on every street corner asking for change has a dog. How do they get ahold of these dogs? I would guess they found them on the street, or from some random person who decided they didn't want a dog/cat after all. How sad. How do they take care of them, when they can barely take care of themselves?

There is this one homeless man, or at least I assume he's homeless, who has a little brown puppy. A really cute puppy, I might add, although I guess they all are. I mean, it's nice that he has some company on the street, but I really don't like that situation at all. Also, many of those people are mentally unstable, another reason not to be taking care of animals.

I really don't think that there's a humane society or equivalent here. There was a lady on the street a couple of weeks ago with kittens in a box, indicating that she'd give them away to whoever wanted them. Urggggggggggggggh. It makes me so angry.

So, not sure what I'll do about this, but I may look into helping with ANY sort of animal welfare association here.

next week

2006-10-28T06:57:00.000-04:00

I should also mention that I'm leaving Brest tomorrow to go to Paris for my Toussaint break! I'll be staying with a friend of the family who I've never met, but seems very nice and VERY generous in offering me a place to stay, and meeting up with another friend from Strasbourg. I'm very very excited. I've already done the Eiffel Tower and Notre Dame thing, but I'll probably spend a day at the Louvre again. I could probably spend a week at the Louvre, if I wanted. That place is huge.

I'm also going to be on the train for five hours in order to get there. This may sound tiresome to you, but I LOVE the TGV. I love trains, in general. No cramped legs, no mandatory wearing of a seatbelt, very few bumps, and sometimes there's a drink cart. Woo hoo!

I complained a lot in my last entry, but really, I'm incredibly lucky to be over here. There are problems with the school, of course. I believe their assistant principal is brand new and only has a hazy idea of what he's doing, but all in all, it's okay. The teachers realize that it's hard for us, and when it occurs to them, they help us. It just doesn't always occur to them.

French pears and grapes are also really great. All the produce in the supermarket is local and bred for flavor, so it tastes great. They just don't have any decent curry paste. I think there's one French brand of curry sauce, but it's, of course, mixed with cream and chicken fat. A tad ironic, yeah?

So.....on to research country line dancing!

2006-10-26T14:12:00.000-04:00

Even though I'm supposed to only work 12 hours a week, as is stated in my contracts, I actually work more like 24. I'm at school from 8 in the morning to 5:30 on Monday and Tuesday (I teach a total of 8 hour-long classes that are spaced out over a long stretch those two days), have one class from 8-9 in the morning on Wednesday, and classes on Thursday from 12:45 (giving my students ten-minute lunch periods. Way to get them motivated!) to 5:30. No classes Friday, which is nice. Of course, my 8:00 classes mean I have to drag myself out of bed at 5:30 AM. 6 AM if I'm lucky enough to get a ride from another teacher. I think I hear Dad laughing at me.

The kids are at a much lower level than my peers and I were in my French class in high school, but maybe that's to be expected. I really like my TES class (that's Terminal Economics level, for you furrners) who actually don't seem to mind having their free periods taken away, and laugh at my "jokes," which are not really that funny. The séconde (kinda like 10th graders) are not impressed by me at all, and think I'm the biggest moron, spouting long-winded nonsense with lots of heavy r's, unlike all the French English teachers who speak English with British accents.

The organization and management of the school is pretty bad. French institutions in general seem to be more lackadaisical than American, but I think this school is a bit worse. There is apparently a three bedroom apartment above the school that is free and is offered to assistants on a temporary (2-3 week) basis. It used to be offered for free for the length of the stay of the assistants, but because there were 5 assistants one year, and only three bedrooms, one of them complained, and now the school no longer offers the bedrooms on a permanent basis. Even though this year there are three assistants only. And three bedrooms. Does this make sense?

Gotta go, money's running out.

Yes, it's Saturday night

2006-10-07T14:55:00.000-04:00

And I'm sitting in an internet café, typing this up. I realize I forgot to write about where I'm living.

I found a studio apartment in Brest through an appartment agency. I'll paste a bit here from an email I wrote describing it:

Its nice enough, but unfurnished, except
for a fridge, stove, bathroom with toilet and shower,
and built-in armoire and desk. No carpet to absorb
all the past residents' cigarette smoke, thankfully.
I need to get a coffee table or something. I did get
a clic clac, kinda like a futon. It's burnt sienna.
I got it used. I spent the first night there trying
to sleep on my luggage, though, which sucked. The
next day, I got the clic clac and phoned my contact
person to see if he'd help me transport it over with
his car. He came, which was good. Otherwise, I'd
have had to pay extra to have it delivered to me 4
days later.

I sat in on a couple of classes last week, and was
asked to try to engage the 40-person class in conversation, which was
virtually impossible because they were such a large
group. But next week I'm supposed to have them in
small groups of only 5 or 6 people. There seems to be
a mix of kinda gangsta-rap wannabes and kind of
inoffensive, mainstream types. Some classes are
higher level than others, obviously. I prepared a few
lesson activities, but I need to make more. I still
don't know what my schedule is!

I think that, except for maybe the lowest level of English, I won't encounter much trouble with their behavior.

I also had an orientation last week with other assistants de langue in the area. The Americans I met were refreshingly more intelligent than I was expecting. I was pretty relieved. Lotsa Brits there, too, and one Jamaican, one Russian, and one New Zealander. Orientation itself was dull and very, very long. Mostly lectures about all the administrative stuff we still needed to do. Then our speaker gave us in rapid French some complicated instructions on how to get to the cafeteria, and some other stuff that I didn't get at all. Most of us didn't make it to lunch because the journey was so long and treacherous.

I still don't have a phone or internet. The phone is the more important thing right now. I'll take care of that next week. This blog is starting to become a list of things I need to do.

So here's something else. I was walking away from my apartment building on Thursday night, and this random guy stares at me and says, "tu es très jolie!" I didn't think I heard him right, so I kind of stared at him, and he said, "you are very beautiful!" Then his ride came and he drove away. This never happens to me in America. I think it's a Mediterranean thing. I like random compliment-givers.

G'day.

durnit

2006-10-04T03:39:00.000-04:00

I had a whole entry written out and (I thought) posted, but now it's apparently gone. This is just to say, don't go away! I haven't given up.

I'm typing from school right now. I start teaching on Monday. Yup, I'm frightened, but I think it'll also be fun. I think there are a lot of fun games you can do play with language learning, even with high school students.

I went to the new assistant orientation yesterday, and I feel like I have so many administrative things left to do still. I only just got my confirmation of my bank card in the mail today, which just means I have to take the secret number they sent me and take it to the bank so I can get my bank stuff. Then I can finally get a phone number, and a salary advance before the tenth, and a zillion other things.

Oh, and I'm not sure if I can get mail at my home address. There are no apparent resident mail boxes. It may just be that the guardian picks up the mail and keeps it behind his desk, but I don't know.

I'll update with more when I have more time. Adios!

2006-09-24T08:52:00.000-04:00

Hey there. Instead of a real breakfast, I had an apple tart thingy -- un spécial de pommes -- because I can do that, in France. So far, they seem to be really heavy on the sugary pastries and meat, which I guess is to be expected. And yet they stay so thin. That French Women Don't Get Fat author had something going, except she's wrong about eating tons of leek soup to stay thin (selon son entrevue sur NPR) because I have yet to see anyone eating leek soup anywhere. They do, however, drink lots of coffee and smoke lots of cigarettes. That's probably exactly it. And eating only small portions of food, yada yada yada.

I took a good walk around Brest today and stumbled upon their chateau by the ocean. Didn't go inside, because it's Sunday and everything is closed. But it's very awesome, and fills one with some sadness, knowing that this is pretty much the only relic in Brest that wasn't leveled during World War II. It's a romanesque castle, and you can see where they had to rebuild the corners of the wall periodically. It's quite windy and salty-aired by the sea. On a side note, I'm hoping to make it to the beach at some point. Off to the west, you can see the navy yard.

All the French people I've met so far have been very polite, helpful, and friendly. Sometimes they want to try out their English on me. Their accents have all been super heavy, but they still speak English better than probably most small city Americans could speak French.

I have an appointment with a bank on Monday and with an apartment agency on Tuesday. I hope I can land a place by Wednesdday, but that may be optimistic. I'm currently staying in either a very cheap hotel or a nice, more expensive youth hostel in which I have my own room. The owner has a very sweet dog. It seems like many people in Brest own a particular breed of dog that is dark brown, medium-sized, stocky and very jowly. Not sure what it would be. Maybe they've all just been a series of mutts.

I'd like to write more, but my eyelids are drooping and it's only the afternoon. I think the guy who works every day at this internet café must think I'm some kind of freaky internet addict. It's crappy that he has to work here every day. At least he gets good benefits -- oh wait, I guess he would have those anyway.

Bye.

Here we go

2006-09-20T23:20:00.000-04:00

Test.