The American Dream

So, I have noticed quite a few differences between France and America on a basic sort of level and there is one thing that I keep coming back to as a reason or as a source for the differences.

Socialism versus Capitalism:
the war is waged!

The American economy and the American way of life is centered around capitalism, just as France is centered around socialism and these lead to two very different viewpoints of life.  Disclaimer, this is only what I have perceived and have no tangible proof to give. 

To start this off, I will give tell you a story.  This story was told to me by a friend named Landry Digeon, a French  man who is currently living in Barcelona.  He was told this story as a child by his parents.

There were three mice sitting at home playing together when their mother comes in.  The mother mouse says to the kids "I have to leave for a little while.  I love you and you need to stay here and be good, whatever you do, don't leave the house.  It's dangerous out there."
"Yes mom, of course we'll do what you say"
As soon as the mother mouse had left the house, the oldest brother mouse says to his brother "I want to go out, see what's out there."  And he leaves.  Soon after he leaves his little hole in the wall, the cat of the house sneaks up on him and kills him.
The second baby mouse says to the smallest brother, "I'm going out, I want to explore the world, see you later."  He gets a little further than the first mouse but gets struck down by the orange tabby a little further away than the first brother.
The last mouse, says to himself "I wanna see the world," he leaves the home and sees the bodies of his two older brothers on the ground and quickly scurries back to his house.  He waits for his mother to come home and when she hears the story of the other two brothers, she says "they should have listened to me and stayed home."

When Landry finished telling me this story, he said that if it was an American story, it is sure that the mice would live happily ever after, but after finding their dream on the outside. 

It really amazes me, the French children are taught from such a young age to obey and not deviate from the standard while American children are told to "Be what you want to be, if you want it enough you can achieve it."  And this is what I am finding here.  Children don't care to succeed in school, they only care about doing the absolute minimum because somewhere along the way, they can get some mediocre job that they will hate (most French people hate their jobs) and retire at 62 and they are "content" with that.

Americans are always told to be the best, be better than the other person; it is a competitive society and so we strive to earn good grades, we strive to get the best job, we strive to be better than we previously were.  Maybe, I am totally biased, but a lot of what I see in the educational system here can be contributed to this.  The kids are never asked to be creative.  In America, we have projects, quizzes, tests, group work, so that each student can be challenged to be creative and inventive and unique.  I don't see that here.  Students aren't supposed to think, really.  It is more like regurgitation of the information that they have learned.

I think it is so interesting that some of the major differences that I notice between our nations can be linked to basically to the government and economic way of life.  Do I feel a thesis coming on? Maybe.  Just in time to apply to Grad School.

And We Meet Again

I know, I know, I never update this thing.  Working on it always.  Sorry, world.

Ok, now, I am sure that everyone out there is wondering what has happened in my life recently.  I'm living in France, the country with the most romantic reputation in the world: the French, French men, French wine, French cheese.  All of those seem quite romantic, well, except for the cheese--let's face it.

When I was younger; I thought of France and I thought of chateaux (castles) and romance, like every girl in the world probably.  I thought in the back of my mind that something terribly romantic would happen. 

Sorry romantics of the world, I don't want to ruin any ideals, but France and French life, all of it  is quite normal.  Maybe I have been thinking quite a lot about this recently because now I am single and living in France.  The romantic in me is still waiting for that Prince to ride up on a white horse and instantly fall in love--thank you, Disney for giving me unrealistic expectations. 

And recently, I have been thinking so much about love, attraction, lust, and all things related.  I've thought about love at first sight, can it exist? If it does exist, how do you find it?  And if you do find it, should you act on it?  That whole idea is kind of crazy.  If I can love someone instantly, what is there to say that we could actually spend a lifetime of happily ever after together?  How are couples still together after 35 years if I can't make it through 2 with someone?  Are some people destined to never find a partner? Am I one of those people? Do my ideals and ideas of life interrupt any relationship I might one day have?  But I guess these are just normal questions from a 22 year old single chick living in the romance capital of the world. 

So where was my point?

I don't think I have one today.

Sorry, world.

It's been a while

Hey, Everyone.

So, I am very sorry that I haven't posted anything lately.  I have actually written quite a few things, typed them, and have them on a jump drive that is at home.  I am in Paris, not home.  But I do have internet here, so I thought I would share something that I found on the internet today.  It really got to me, and I figure, it is after Valentine's Day.  Why not write about love?  But I, sadly, did not write this, I stole it.  Enjoy.  Promise to post another  original soon.

Love is still wanting to hold someone after you climax. After the initial euphoria from the orgasm wears off, you’re replaced with a sense of calm rather than a panic. You don’t want to search for your clothes, scramble to find your keys and figure out the best way to tell them, “See ya later forever!” You’re fine with chilling out in bed with the person and maybe ordering pad thai later.
Love is unattractive. It can expose our worst traits: Jealousy, irrational fears, heated anger; the gang’s all here! While it can bring out compassion and tenderness, it can also make you behave like the ugliest version of yourself. That can be okay for a little while, but love with real longevity should be like a xanax rather than an adderall.

Love is not afraid to be schmaltzy. There’s a reason why the most popular love songs are so lyrically simple. You can drown it in metaphors all you want but love usually boils down to, “You make me so happy. I want to hold your hand. I just want u 2 be mine 4ever!” You can be a 50-year-old linguistics professor at Columbia University and still find something to relate to in a Mariah Carey ballad if you’re in love because the feelings are so universal. It’s humbling, isn’t it? No matter who you are or what your background is, love can reduce you to Mariah Carey mush.

Love is an all-consuming drug. It gives us these natural highs we’ve only read about in books or heard in songs. It’s addictive. It’s what keeps us going to bars, drinking glasses of wine, going to that stupid house party in Bushwick; it’s all for the possibility of finding love. In the wrong hands, love can be dangerous and scary. If someone lacks a healthy foundation, love can kill. All of these crimes you read about in the newspapers are usually linked to passionate love. “I did it because I loved them just…too much.”

Love is not what our parents had. In high school, you never wanted to think about your mother and father having once slept with people in the backseat of cars and feeling warm and happy. That would make it feel less special and young. It would make love have less to do with you when, EXCUSE ME, it has EVERYTHING to do with you.

Love is getting drunk with your significant other at a party and taking a cab home with your bodies intertwined. You feel safest in these moments, the most secure. Entering a social gathering with someone who loves you is the biggest security blanket. People leave the party as a parade of droopy expressions and sad cocktail dresses. But not you. “Sorry guys, I’m in love! I’m taking a car!”

Love is fucking stupid. Love is fucking smart. Love is about betraying yourself, of compromising your ideals for someone else’s approval. That’s actually the bad kind of love, but I guess it all blurs together when you’re young or when you’re old or when you don’t love yourself.

Love is your significant other telling you about their favorite album and then making a point to fall in love with it on your own. Love is wondering why your better half loves certain things. You think you can find remnants of them in their favorite films, books and songs, but you usually can’t.

Love is finding yourself feeling protective over someone else’s well-being Love is being incensed with rage when someone or something has done your lover wrong.

Love is wanting your partner to cum. And if they can’t, just say, “That’s okay. I’m enjoying this.” It might be bullshit, but they’ll be orgasming in the next five minutes. Trust me.

Love isn’t always marriage. Marriage is spending $60,000 so everyone can know that someone loves you. You know what’s certainly not love? Debt. In some cases, love can be divorce.

Love is a back massage, a mindfuck, a hard cock, a pair of perfect breasts, of feeling unashamed about the cellulite on your body. Love is someone giving a shit about you enough to argue. Love is not passive. Love is “Don’t fucking touch me right now.” Love is “Who the FUCK were you talking to?” Love is sometimes hating yourself for a second. Love is hate. Period. Indifference is the real killer of love and the true antithesis.

When love leaves you, you should be lying on your bathroom floor with no resolve. You’re smoking cigarettes in the bathtub and crying about everything bad that’s ever happened.

Love is someone seeing the beauty in you and wanting to bask in it every day all day. Love is not guaranteed. We are not owed love. That’s why when we get it, we know how lucky we are and hold on to it for dear life.

So, yeah. That’s what love is. Anyone know where to get some?

Worst Poem Challenge

So, I was chatting with a friend the other day and we were talking about writing. I minored in Creative Writing at Presbyterian College and I feel ashamed because I haven't written anything lately. My friend and I swapped stories of contests; at PC it was the erotic short story contest and at her college it was the worst poem challenge. So I took the liberty to write two short terrible poems.

The first, of course, has to be about Limoges.

Ode to Limoges
Oh, Limoges
L-I-M-O-G-E-S
You are indeed an aquarium
Many fish you have
Many fish you lack
You swim because you are the fish
The one with the big fin on its back
You have false coral and invisible walls
Which makes the inhabitants confused
You are the fish
You are the tank
You are--the Aquarium

Oh goodness, and if that didn't pain me enough, I wrote another of one of the greatest clichés of all time.

Beauty as a Rose
Your face is like a rose
Cheeks rouge
Stem slender but with thorns
Every beauty has her thorns
But yours seem less sharp
Worth the pain to
Caress your supple petals
Supple, ripe, beautiful
Your nose is the center
Perfectly symmetrical
And your red hair I need not compare,
For it is obvious
You are my rose
It sucks that your name is Violet

No lie, that was kinda fun. Any other terrible poems out there? Share!

Everyday French

So there are quite a few phrases here in good ole France that I knew existed, but are used much more than French 1 taught me.  And I suggest to anyone coming to France to get used to these phrases, they are so helpful in everyday conversation.

1. ou autres choses comme ca--or other things like that                                This is amazing when you're saying anything that has to do with examples.  I cannot tell you how invaluable this phrase is.  
2. ou quelque chose comme ca--or something like that                                  This is really helpful when you're asking for something or when you're trying to explain something.  Especially when you're talking about ideas, this is really helpful.
3. je ne sais pas--I don't know                                                                     Pretty self explanatory but usually it gets slurred together by the French and end up sounding like "shaypah."  I have used this so many times when someone asks for directions.  I've only been here a month people, I do not know street names.
4. du tout--at all                                                                                                 This is good to use with any negative statement to emphasize that it completely negative. Just add it after the 'pas' in the statement.
5. vraiment, tellement, vachement--really, seriously, truly                              This signifies importance, always used.
6. je pense que--I think that                                                                              To state your opinion
7. Donc, alors, en faite, en plus--Thus, moreover, therefore                     These are good transition phrases
8. Selon a--according to                                                                                   This is really good when you are talking about anything to do with opinions. To state when someone thinks something.
9. Il faut que--it is necessary                                                                           Use this when you need to do something, you should use the subjunctive after, but if you use present tense people will understand.
10. J'arrive a comprendre--I arrive at comprehension.                                     This is actually pretty funny, because the French never 'don't understand.'  They might not arrive at comprehension but they never don't understand.   They do not say "je ne comprends pas" ever.  It must be a French thing, in no way would it be possible that they don't understand something.  If something is confusing it is because of you, not them.
11. Qu'est-ce que c'est--What is                                                                      You'll use this a lot.
12. truc--thing                                                                                                     This is one of the most important words to know.  If you don't know what something is, use the word 'truc' for it.  Seriously, best word ever to know.

So there is is, some of the most useful things you can know in the French language.  I think my favorite is 'truc.'

So, What Type of City is Limoges?

Hmmm...

I've heard it called "the smallest big city" in France.
I've heard it called "nothing spectacular."
I've heard it called "a charming and tranquil place."
Oh and also, "a good place to be young."

I'm not so sure what that last one means, but so far I've found Limoges quite agreeable.  But I can tell you some of the things that I have done here that I have never done in the States.  Last weekend, I participated in a goth parade.  That was pretty unique.  Who would have thunk that Limoges has a very lively goth subculture? Definitely not me, considering most of the teenagers at my high school are dressed to the nines everyday.  But anyways, I actually walked in the parade (while wearing my black skinny jeans and bright yellow jacket, I stood out like an American in France.  Oh, wait...).

In addition to the goth parade, I went to the party that followed, also goth at this really cool club in downtown Limoges.  I hung out with my new English friends (they own the goth store Rezurektion in Limoges, check it out on the web).  Again, I stood out like crazy considering that I was not wearing dark eyeliner and leather, but none of that seemed to matter.  I had a great time and met some really awesome people.

What else have I done here? Oh, yes, just last night, I went out with my baker to this awesome restaurant where he performed in a Bluegrass group.  Two Americans are in the band, the singers, and the other two are French through and through but have a little space in their hearts for the good ole bluegrass ballads of the US.  I never would think to go out with my baker for a night of awesomeness, but it totally happened here.

Oh, and I have officially made pancakes by hand.  They were so delicious.  my roommates wanted to try a real American breakfast, so I bought the flour and everything, because there is no Bisquick or Aunt Jemima here.  It went pretty well, but next time, I need to put more baking powder in the mix, they were very dense pancakes rather than super fluffy.*  But the taste was absolute heaven.  I even found the maple syrup here, imported from Canada, and it cost 3 Euros.

Another new experience that I had was eating a Boudin Noir.  I went to a charcuterie feast type thing, called the Petits Ventres.  Holy Crap, I've never seen so much meat in my life!!! I ate so many sausage-y things that night, I thought I could never look at another sausage again.  But back to the point, Boudin Noir is a sausage that is pretty much just blood.  That's right, I ate a blood sausage, totally blood and a couple of nuts (chatagnes). But it was delicious.  There's a first for everything.

So here is just a taste of a couple of new things that have happened in my life in the past moth that have really stood out.  I still can't get over that I marched in a goth parade.  That was pretty cool.

*Update: I wrote this a little while ago and have made pancakes since that were extremely fluffy and perfect.  The key is more baking powder and also to whip the egg whites separately and fold them into the pancake mixture after.

Whadya Know?

So, anyone who knows me knows that I don't really read that often.  Here is my official apology to every English, History, or whatever subject teacher that assigned a book for the class to read and I neglected to do so.

Dearest teachers,

I lied.  I lied by omission when I showed up to class to discuss a book or turned in a paper.  I'm sure you already knew this, but in your class when you assigned that classic novel, I probably read the first couple of pages and then just got the Spark Notes.  I'm terrible sorry, for I have finally realized the error in my ways.

I had always thought that I was too busy, or maybe that the book would not be interesting enough.  I mean, it is well believed by many that if it is assigned as homework, then it can in no way be an interesting book.  When I should have read Wuthering Heights in its entirety, I skimmed.  When I really tried to read Olaudah Equiano, I fell into the best sleep of my life.  When I heard the name of the book The Invisible Man, I thought of that terrible movie with Chevy Chase.  And for this, I am sorry. 

In the past month, I haven't had internet at my house, I haven't had television, I haven't had any sort of entertainment.  Except for books.  And what an entertainment it has been.  I have read half a dozen books in only a month, including Jane Eyre and I am now in love with Bronte, Charlotte that is.  I have read classics and some not-so-classics, but I am reading.  I love it.  It is the most joyful thing to do.  While I was reading Jane Eyre, I experienced something.  It's hard to describe it, but I could not put the book down.  I felt what she was feeling, I felt the most intense pity when Jane had to leave the man that, I knew as well as she, loved her with every bit of his heart.  I found myself devouring every word of every page and savoring the beauty of the writing.  I felt what one is supposed to feel when reading a book, a classic, much like the ones assigned in your classes.

So, here it is.  I am sorry.  I was wrong, you were right. I need literature in my life.  I need to make time for the classics.  I need to read and write and enjoy.  And now I promise you this, I will find the time for reading the classics.  And if a book is assigned in grad school, I will read it with enthusiasm because I know it is worth my time and effort.

Sincerely,
Callie

P.S. Thanks for the good grades.  And if I ask you for a recommendation for grad school, let's pretend I didn't write this one blog.  Please?