le premier jour de la reste de ma vie

I am alive. Barely. Not sleeping for 30 hours and counting sucks. I cannot believe that sleeping pill did not work (Diphenhydramine HCl can suck it). My host family is nice but stern. They have a balcony overlooking the Mt. Victoire and the country side, which was where I had my first snack-meal of potato chips and deviled eggs that lasted THREE HOURS. I am learning to eat at a glacial pace, which was extremely difficult as the last thing I ate within 24 hours was a cube of cheese neatly smashed against a piece of stale bread. The sweet thing is my room is on the ground level, so I get a paranoma view of this sweet sweet landscap.

I must admit; it is rather intimidating being this land of native French speakers. I could barely keep up with their conversations, which bounced from an architecturally desecrated landscape of the Southern France, to rising housing costs, American election (guess whom they like-- yes, it's whom), and of course, how nice weather in Hawaii is.

Btw, my host brother should quit his job and doubles as David Beckham, because he IS him. *cough* he's 21, French, and is David Beckham *cough* for my overabunding female friends. AND is named Maxime, like the magazine sans the "e." I'm officially the baby of the house because all of their children (they have 3 boys and 1 girl) are all majorly old.

Lastly, I miss you all beyond belief. But I do have your cheery faces staring back at me right now from behind framed glass surface, so that will do until later.

Love,

THE Jacques
ps. haha. Pervie should try to figure out this title.