London Paris, but not Tokyo

Yes Hillary Duff. I went there.

This past weekend was the celebration of my birthplace, aka PARIS. The city definitely affirms my joy in being popped out there. I am quite astonished at the sheer volume of monuments and museums that I was able to cram within such a small opening...of time. There's nothing like being a belligerently drunk hobo in front of the Notre Dame at 1:00 AM. You guys should certainly attempt it sometimes.

As you Grinnellians are probably basking in the warmth some where, the midsem bitch is striking severely at Aix en Provence. Although I have 2 midsems each day for 3 days in a row, the magnitude of stress is uncomparable to the absence of hope felt during midsem week at Grinnell. I am enjoying this rather welcoming change of pace and being able to sleep at night. On the other hand, my stomach decides to revolt this week and render my life at a perpetual state of pain. It is rather morbid that my first thought was "damn, I can't believe I have cancer already"; in any case, the French socialist doctor will hopefully cure what ails me. On the bright side, after this ordeal, I am self-entitling myself to equate such experience to pregnancy and menstruation cramps. It has already been decided, and I'll be sure to add that my arsenal of chauvinism.

Yes, London beckons in 4 days. I am looking forward to forcing my heavily endowed agenda into the tiny orifice of time that les vacances des tous saints has allowed. On one last note, today is the day that my French fluency has finally been realized. Stick that up your Arc de Triomphe and smoke it France.

Okay I lie, one more thing. As an update from the "estranged Asian kid," my hotness was also cultivated today by two French high school girls saying, "you know, if you want to ask for my number, I won't object."

Not robbing the cradle anytime soon,
Jacques

Another month and another euro

First of all, I'd like to point out that the font I'm forced to use is called "Police." Irony, Big Brother? I think not. I am now officially in France for ONE month! I think I have habituated enough to the Frenchness, that sometimes, I forgot I'm in France. I would pass by some people, and think, "wow, there're a lot of people speaking French." For those who are quite acquainted with my light-weightedness, you'll be pleased to know that my tolerance has definitely increased (sadly...). My face, however, refused to divert from its usual crimson hue, which usually likened me to severe sunburn, asyphixiation or food poisoning. I still do not fully comprehend the Darwinistic idea behind this (Asian) ability of mine.

Speaking of the Asianness, I am referred to as the "tall Asian kid" by my French partenaires de langue. Ironically, I'm considered as tall here, simply because Southern France folks are a little bit shorter (chouette!); I forgot what that feels like (especially in comparison to the giantesque Mid-westerners). Also, there are NO Asian people, so I (as a tall, American accent, colors-wearing Asian) obviously blends in with French natives.

I recently went on the sorties (excursions) to the Luberons mountain range and the beautiful Roman city of Arles where Emperor Constantine once resided. Pictures will be evident on the web medium shortly. To continue the theme of rapid burts of topics, my host mom has decided to "gently" insist that I sit down to urinate, clean up the water on the ground after my shower (Which wouldn't too unreasonable, except for the fact that curtains do NOT exist here, and one requires water to constitute a shower), and dry my clothes on the ground on the porch (a fact that basically insinuates "don't expect to do laundry from November on because your clothes will crystallize in the tundra temperature").

Love and hugs,
Jacques