hm,

Today Anne Chantale asked me: why would you come to france to take courses in english?

seulement une chose

First impressions can be very deceiving. Let's just leave it at That.

J'aprrends quelque chose nouveau chaque jour

I left Madame a note last night that said my train returning from Avignon would be returning late and I would be sleeping "avec un ami," ie with a friend.

Tonight she explained to me that the note I had left in fact said I was sleeping "with a friend" ie in the same bed with that friend, and that I really should have said that I was sleeping "chez un ami," at a friend's house. I'm silly. I knew that. I will never make the same mistake again! Tomorrow I meet some of her famille — hooray!

Un noveau copain

Today I met my new friend, a meeting which was set up through crazy Chantale at the relations internationals (tangent: Chantale really is crazy. I know this from observation and heresay. Said one of the students who was here last semester: Chantale hooks up with students. Said me: what exactly do you mean by hooks up? Said he: I mean Hooks Up). Anyway, the purpose is for me to practice French and him English. Seeing as he has already read Toni Morrison, George Orwell, and I forget whom else, his English is a little bit more advanced than my French. But I was telling him about how I have learned so much french grammar, that I'm great at conjugating verbs, but all that I've learned in French class hasn't proved me that useful in conversation. He has had the same experience in English classes. Then he talked about a contortonist, that he first must build flexibility in his muscles and strength in his bones, then can do amazing things with his body, but only because of that base of flexibility and strength. Perhaps, my friend said, it is the same way with learning another language, that it is important to learn the base of it and learn it well. This will prove useful when you begin to become a master of it.

I'm glad we are friends. I think he and I are going to a museum next week. Yesssssssssss.

aujourd'hui

Today Madame, Nina and I had a great laugh as Madame tried to explain to us the difference between c'est bien and c'est bon.

Ces Bottes

I found the boots. I tried them on. They were ugly. Also I had mixed feelings about buying them. Why is it so important that I have a pair of boots?

un moment un peu triste pour votre auteur,

Today, on our scavenger hunt, I saw a pair of boots in a store window that I wanted to buy. But as we were busy trampsing willy nilly all over the city and completing meaningful tasks like counting the number of stairs of la montée De Lange (563 …ish), I did not buy them. I wrote down the name of the store and some street names and planned to come back later. When I did come back, I couldn't find the store. I felt certain I was on track, and then lost my sense of direction (which certainly isn't difficult for me). I kept returning to a point where I was certain I knew my bearings were correct, then took different routes from there. I did this three or four times. After awhile, my mission became less and less focused on the boots. I don't even remember what they looked like and am not even sure if I wanted to buy them anyway. But I set out to get ces bottes, and I was going to find them no matter how long it took. All I really wanted to accomplish was to find this store so I could say to myself 'Yes! You are not foolish! You knew where it was the whole time! It doesn't matter that it took you two hours to get there, you Got There!' Then I could buy the stupid boots and every time I wore them and perhaps got a compliment because they are just that cool, I could say "Thanks, I walked around Lyon for hours for these boots."

I didn't found the store and probably would have continued my search on the other side of the Rhône had it not been for a number of factors (little sleep last night with no blanket and my coat as a pillow, up early for scav. hunt, hunger, had been walking for about 4 hours total for the day, and on and on). But I literally could not go any further. And frankly, it was time to give up. I had tried my hardest. This wasn't going to happen. It was more disheartening than I would have expected it to be — because my hardest was not good enough to find the boot store. Now, with the aide of the internet, I have located the store on a map (it is indeed on the other side of the Rhône, how idiotic of me) and I can find it quickly and easily. But I wish I had been able to find it the first time. I am a little very sad. I tried to accomplish something and failed miserably. But worse things could certainly happen. I'll get over it. I think I am already over it.

J'espere avoir ces six choses en France:

1, more Shoes!
2, unlimited supply of $$
3, Racky the Raccoon
4, retainer
5, fluent french speaking sillz
6, ma soeur

ils veulent trop d'argent de moi!

I am ashamed to be meandering up and down the isles of the French equivalent to Walmart. But I am poor, I have no options. I made a list of things I thought I needed, and immediately cut it down to necessities and do withouts when I got to Carrefour. For €60, I can live without a hair straightener. I will just get really good at braiding my hair. I made dramatic cuts on my already meager list. Not buying pencils. One pencil should last me the semester, and if not, maybe I can borrow one from someone and never give it back. How much food do I really need? I can survive on two meals a day. Do they sell trail mix here? Some things stayed on the list. Tampons, for example. However, if I only eat very little, then loose 20 lbs, my body will start malfunctioning and I won't need those either.

Ah yes, this is the life. It's either this or prostitution. I've tried the latter before, it's no good. Too many STDs.

TeRRor!

My excitement about leaving for France tomorrow has manifested itself into total and utter fear. What is there to say on this topic? Trecking to a county whose language I am horrible at speaking is scary. Don't know anyone there, etc. etc. Right right, I bleed the ideal of independence. Doesn't matter. At this precise moment, I'd take the opportunity of stomping on a boy's heart until the point where it's not even worth recycling over this icky icky feeling. At least that's something I have experience with.

Christmas is, Christmas is (on a keyboard that sticks)

Two years ago was the worst Christmas ever in the Mikel household. I will spare you the details. It was horrible. Since then, my family has collectively and undiscussedly decided it will never happen again. We go to extremes, like the whole 11-foot real christmas tree shebang, dropping tons of money on presents, cooking/baking marathons that result in an amount of food that could not possibly be eaten by 4 people, no matter how hungry we were. The coffee table heaped with books, DVDs, shirtboxes, etc, etc, empty tin that used to have homemade fudge but the dog ate it. The fire place lousy with ashes from the roaring fires that have been burning for days. The fridge packed with leftovers. The tree heavy with hundreds, hundreds of bulbs.

The holiday reeks of lavishness unnatural to the Mikel family.

That one Christmas was so awful, that it really makes one appreciate a good Christmas even more. So my dad gave me a kleenex box in the shape of a totem pole. Is that really all I have to complain about? Yup.

The holiday season has begun

I hate Christmas lists. This is not what Christmas is all about. No, no, no, no, no. This isn't a holiday for you to receive all the stuff you were too cheap to buy for yourself over the past few months. Maybe stuff you couldn't afford. But Christmas lists take all the joy out of the holiday, which comes from painstalking searching for the perfect gift for someone based on that person's personality, taste and relationship to yourself.

'Well,' you're saying to yourself, 'how is anyone going to know what to get me? My Christmas list prevents my parents from buying me worthless trinkets I didn't want in the first place.' Hm. Well I say, Suck It Up. Christmas isn't about you. Do you think I wanted/needed footy (sp?) pajamas or a Discovery Kids fish tank over the last couple of years. There is no question mark at the end of that sentence because the answer is clear. What you get doesn't matter - mmm duh it's what you give. And so don't be a lame ass this holiday season and put some thought into gift giving instead of foolishly resorting to people's Christmas lists. You will ruin Christmas that way, you know.

I like to write posts about how peeved I am about life. It gives the impression that I am never happy. Ha!

Ode to the Great Things in LIfe

One of my favorite things in this world is free food. Food is delicious. And it costs money. No one likes to spend money. So what could be better than something delicious that costs nothing? I think we all know the answer here. Nothing better exists.

This post is inspired by the box of bagels and cream cheese I discovered on top of the microwave at Lee Hills. I was going to make some popcorn. Instead, my hunger can be satisfied by this no-cost cream cheese smothered bagel, and I can save the popcorn and eat it later. In the long run, I don't have to buy as much popcorn - um, awesome.

Now some people think us women have it hard in this world, ever struggling to eliminate the glass ceiling and all. Psh. I enjoy being female because it entitles me to more free food than my male peers. Guy-buying-girl food is much more common than the opposite action. Now that I think of it, one of the downfalls of being single is the amount of money I have to spend on food. I am going to find myself a boyfriend right this minute.

:-(

Earlier today, I swear I complimented myself on how independent I had become. Yes, I most definitely was all set to pat myself on the back as soon as I had the chance. "Good job, Betsy. You are so awesome. You don't need anyone."

psh.

What does independent mean? It means you can do it all yourself. Well, I can do the following things alone: wash clothes, cook food, make bed, get dressed, these sorts of things. What I cannot do for myself is be my own support, on many different levels, when I completely screw up. Such an idiot sometimes, I am. Look, now I'm Yoda. My sense of humor is spectacular. Or should I say, ridiculous. I feel my posture slooping right now, physically, emotionally, mentally and whatever other allys there are too.

good mood for listening to Junior Boys

Like many of the Mikel clan, I often think too hard. Lately - actually that is a lie, I think about this all the time - I've been thinking about where I was a year ago, and how different I am now. A good friend (who's name may or may not start with an O in the friend world, but an A in the real world) tells me I have grown incredibly bitter. I don't want to admit it, but it's a little true. I think it's really just being more aware. I'm sad that O/A friend thinks I have progressed for the worse. But not so sad, but today I realized that I have also moved in a positive direction too.

Today I had a "hm" moment when I realized that something about me has really changed. Last year I had a bit of a freak out over something that happened in the newsroom, because people weren't taking something seriously as I was. A strikingly similar something happened today in The Paper's newsroom, and people reacted the same way. I, on the other hand, didn't. Details, details, not important here, but I may have learned something. It's okay to laugh in the face of something really serious, because oftentimes, that's the only way to stay sane.

Oh man, I am so deep. I can't very over it. I wish I could find some Junior Boys lyrics in less than 20 seconds so that I could post them here. But I've got other deep things to think about.

Go here and tell all your friends!

Okay so maybe more than one person reads my blog? Maybe? There's no way to tell, what is most important that you go to this website:

http://youtube.com/watch?v=yMZYY2V6zeg

This is the Missouri School of Journalism for you. This is a commercial my good friend Joe made for Chipotle. If he wins, he gets $10,000! And the J-school gets $10,000! We need to get a ton of people to watch the commercial, so get all your friends to watch it too. And then get your friends' friends. Chain reaction Oh My God.

if you can't remember the link to tell you friends, just tell them to go to youtube and search chipotle and foil.

ps this public computer lab is creeping me out, the girl next to me is making farting/squirting noises with her mouth and talking to herself. Mmm ... gotta go.

On the other side

Working a Gatorade stop @ the Chicago marathon was third behind the following things:
1. running the chicago marathon (done)
2. running the chicago marathon with Amy (will do?)

Anyways,

I will admit, it gets boring once the runners turn to walkers and handing out gatorade to the walkers is just as thrilling as… well, no analogy needed – as thrilling as it sounds to hand a cup to someone who is walking.

The real excitement is with the fast ones. There is strategy:
- You need to hold the cup from the top, between thumb and pointer finger. This way the runner can grab the cup in natural cup grabbing motion. This also means if it is very cold, your fingers will turn numb, and if you are wearing gloves, your fingers will get soaked — and ultimately turn numb. Might as well forget about the gloves.
- You must concentrate on each handoff. If you're not on your game, gatorade will end up everywhere, ground, hair, clothes and that is not the point of the task. The point is as little spillage as possible.
- The way to make this happen is to follow your hand with the pace of the runner, until you are quite positive that he or she is really holding it. Then you need to release in a perfect upward motion, not left or right because that will lead to spilling. This is very complicated when you are moving your hand leftwards, then must simultaneously release upwards. And you absolutely must release. It is very easy to hold on for too long — you're not sure if they're ready to hold the cup themselves. But you have no time to ask them if they're ready to hold alone. They are running a marathon for christ's sake! That is why you must have talent, you must have skill, you must have a sixth sense. You absolutely must know the proper time to release. And that is if you even get that far.

Now tips for marathoners:
- a thank you is always appreciated, and will get you personal encouragement
- if you are running on the left side, don't grab with your right hand, and vice versa. Seriously people, WTF? That just complicates the whole process way more than is necessarry.
- If you are aiming for a particular cup, signal to the cup holder that you are coming for her cup. This is a good idea for several reasons. 1. she knows not to give it away to anyone else 2. she can physically and mentally prepare herself for the extremly faced paced and extremely complex process of handing off a cup of gatorade that is about to happen.

Enough digressing on passing out Gatorade. You're reading this and are embarassed to know me. Oh yeah?!?! Well I'm embarassed that you know me too.

great word found in another article

kvetching

Hey now, here it is!

Some people know the Halloween season has arrived because of aisles and aisles full of bags of trick-or-treat candy and skimpy costumes. Others know because they also know it is almost Oct. 31. I can now breathe a sigh of relief because now I know it is almost Halloween, I have finally received my Halloween care package from my aunt. I will let the contents speak for themselves:

1. Wooden witch decorative-like thing that your grandmother may find interest in
2. Four-piece spooky shapes cookie cutter set
3. Two-pack Halloween potholders
4. Tellcherry Black Peppercorns Grinder
5. Jack-o-latern ornament/candle holder (?)
6. Two plastic smiley faced serving spoons
7. Halloween themed Runts®: ghosts, pumpkins, bats and… bananas?
8. Homemade spider ornament, made of bells and beads
9. Gardenia body lotion
10. Sudoku 50 Puzzles, Volume 1
11. "Halloween Night" bucket
12. I Can Bake Vanilla-Sugar PUMPKINS!, pumpkin shaped ornament included
13. 3-Flexible Cutting Mats (FDA approved)
14. Two dish towels with witch, cat and spider stitching
15. Reese's miniatures
16. Pumpkin nonstick flexible spatula

Lame, lame and LAME

"Ridiculously" is a horrible adjective. Everyone uses it and it doesn't even make sense. What the F does that even mean? Do you mean extremely? Do you mean unusually? Do you mean remarkably?

Things do not always have to be sensical, but I ask this question: whatever happened to originality? Riduclously is number one on my least original list. If I hear one more clone girl tell her bf about someone she knows who is "ridiculously skinny" or see another "ridiculously happy" facebook status update I might papercut my ears. It's not clever. It's not creative. It's not descriptive. It was in Zoolander. Now, it's just overused.

Please people of my generation, expand your vocabulary. Instead of ridiculously skinny, with unecessary emphasis on the ridiculously, can you just say what you mean? She's scrawny. Emanciated even. So skinny that you wonder if her soul has deteriorated along with her body. I don't know. Just not ridiculously.

I am so fed up with this word that I don't want to talk about it anymore.