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save the French (sauver le français)

They're currently planning to cut the French program at the University of Nevada, Reno (UNR). That would leave us with ONLY Spanish (remember that the German Language Major has already been reduced to a German Studies Major). Effectively, our Foreign Languages Department would become the Spanish Language Department. Now, it is absolutely essential that we keep Spanish; but, it is equally vital that we continue to have a selection (even if it's only a selection of two) of languages to study at our university. I implore everyone to email either Dr. Miriella Melara (melara@unr.edu) or Professor Isabelle Favre (favre@unr.edu) and tell them that you do not support the termination of the French Language Major program at UNR. They, as department chair and staff Senate representative, will present our case to the higher-ups at the end of the month. With community support, we might be able to stop this atrocity, which would truly be a very large first step on the road to mediocrity. Tell your friends, families, coworkers, and even strangers. Saving the French program means more than just saving a single department at UNR; it means saving, to a certain degree, the university's integrity.

Cette traduction ne va pas être directe.

L’Université de Nevada, Reno (UNR) terminera le programme de la langue française. Maintenant, il y a deux programmes pour étudier des langues étrangères à UNR : le programme d’espagnol et le programme de français. Si on coupe le programme de français, il y aura seulement l’espagnol. Alors, c’est absolument essential qu’on garde l’espagnol ; mais c’est assez essential que les étudiants à UNR ont un choix entre les langues d’étudier (un choix entre deux langues n’est pas un grand choix, mais c’est un choix). Alors, je vous en prie d’envoyer un email à Professeur Miriella Melara (melara@unr.edu) ou Professeur Isabelle Favre (favre@unr.edu) et écrivez que vous n’êtes pas d’accord avec la terminaison du programme de la langue française à UNR. Elles vont présenter le dossier pour la continuation de français aux officiels à UNR à la fin de mars. Elles peuvent présenter vos emails et prouvent qu’on veut maintenir le programme français à UNR. Il y a encore d’espoir, mais nous devons lutter contre la terminaison de le programme français !

So long. Farewell. Au revoir. Ciao.

The day in Paris was nice. I met up with my friends who were also there and we went to dinner and the Champs-Élysées and I walked to Notre Dame and thru the Italian Quarter.
I awoke early Saturday morning and ate the complimentary breakfast at my hostel (a bowl of cereal, some juice and a cuppa coffee). Just about when I finished, "Dying Day" by Saves the Day played: a nice American song to ease me into the absolutely NOT French life I'd be returning to. I got my junk and got on the metro and went to the RER toward CDG airport and watched Paris shrink away. Now, southwestern France is MY France. All of France is good, but the southwest, next to Basque Country, that's my place. And when I left Pau I just sorta slept and didn't think all that much. But, riding the RER out of Paris, it all hit me. It didn't make it any better that a busker came into our car for the last bit of the ride and played a short repertoire of recent French classics (mostly a lot of Edith Piaf songs, he started with La Vie en Rose and sort of medleyed from there). Yeah, I was just about in tears.
Anyway, I went and had my luggage checked to SF when I got to the airport. My French phone hit the low battery point where it vibrates every ten minutes or so until it finally dies, bastardly reminding me over and over again that I'll soon be losing more than just that French phone, but all of France. Before I boarded the plane (which was late), I had a shot of Ricard with breakfast and listened to sad music and wrote in my paper journal and my phone finally died.
I posted about the haps from Francfort on yesterday. I'm back at my parents house and well rested. My friends have called and texted and I have lunch with some friends today and it's all nice...

except the one thing I keep thinking about is how I'm going to get back home, back to southwestern France. I don't think it'll be for a long time. I forgot how miserable it is living in my parents house (although, I sort of have a plan to be out before the semester starts. It just sort of depends on my work situation). I remember some of the reasons why I wanted to run away from Reno in the first place. As happy as I am to be back with my friends, I think, for the first time in my life... I don't know. I guess I just want to go home.

back again

I left Pau Friday morning, train to Paris. Spent the day there. Left in the morning for the airport. flew to Francfort. At Francfort, I was informed that my confirmation had somehow been switched to a different flight, one that had left Francfort directly to San Francisco, but which had left when I was in the air between Paris and Francfort. Therefore, my seats from Francfort to Washington DC and then from Washington DC to San Francisco were lost.

fuck. at least i didn't end up in Bordeaux.

So, I managed to get on the flight to Washington DC and got there around 8:30PM. This is Saturday, local time. The flight to San Francisco is WAY overbooked and so they put me on the next flight...at 6:43AM the next morning. So, I spent the night in the airport with six other twenty year old kids who got stuck overnight in the smoker's lounge. Two of the guys may or may not have broken into an airport wine store (that was closed) and stolen two or three bottles. It may or may not be ridiculous that they were not caught.

And I left in the morning, mommy and sister picked me up from SFO, and I've been here a little while.
I still need to unpack; I finally took a shower

I'm so tired. I'll post this tomorrow with actual sentiment. I'm beyond tired; I'm insane. Goodbye, almost

pau revoir

je suis en paris. j'ai parti pau ce matin. c'...fuck, american computer, difficult to do accents. it was sad. yesterday i had a crepe with my buddy in front of the Pyrenees. i was only there hardly over three months, but it felt like another life. i don't give a fuck if everybody says it, but i grew up so damn much from this fucking experience. i turned twenty since i've been here, and it's sort of funny because the transition from teenager to, uh, older-than-teenager actually seems really drastic to me. and i'm sure being here is a big part of that.

uh, i talked to Z. she left some bottles wine at my friend's and he was leaving before her and so he dropped them off with me so she could get them. she had asked him to drop them off with someone else, but i was sort of the only one available. anyway, we talked a bit and it all seems cool. it wasn't totally one of those awkward conversations that i've had all too many of that involves a lot of "well i'm sorry" "well i don't understand" "well i didn't mean to" and all that shit. we actually had a really nice conversation, most of the time, because, remember, we actually get along very well. that's why we were such good friends in the first place.
anyway, that was just nice because i really didn't want to end things poorly with her. she's been a very important part of this experience, despite some of the grief she's caused me, and it would have been a shame to end it knowing i used to have a friend in france rather than knowing that i have a friend one state over in the USA.

uh, i'm bored. i'm in paris, like i said. with some friends. i leave tomorrow, with some of them.

whatev

yeah!

so, here's the plan. friday morning i take the train to paris. my hostel is somewhere around montmartre. i stay the night, saturday afternoon i start flying. paris to frankfurt to washington dc to san francisco. i get in at 1:21AM sunday morning. my parents are driving me home.

that's the plan...i have a feeling that i'll get on the flight from DC to SF and end up landing in Bordeaux, spending another night at the Hotel California..


fuck, man
last supper for roy last night..

15.5 litres of beer, 1.5 litres of wine. joshua and i killed most of that, but the others showed up and did their part to help out. everyone was very good. nobody vomited in my room. so yeah, excellent.

damn scholarly articles

usac farewell dinner tonight. if we want booze with our dinner (and who can eat dinner without drinking wine?) we have to buy it ourselves. so there goes more money i don't have. haha. last day of classes is tuesday. i'll leave a week from tomorrow for paris, spend the night there, then leave from paris on the 20th and be in san francisco on the 21st. i think somebody's picking me up from the airport (i should really figure that out).

i've been thinking of all the things i've done. friends i've made, friends i've lost (well, friend, singular, thus far. although i only made that friend since i've been here and she might come around to ever speak to me again. and, even if not, i guess i would have lost her in a little over a week anyway when we each go home to different states), places i've seen, food i've eaten, other things i've ingested or inhaled (both knowingly and unknowingly), kisses, hugs, hookups, near death experiences, indigestion, situations where i've not known what the fuck was going on (not so much since i've gotten a better grasp on the language), situations where i've HOPED i was misunderstanding what was going on..i'm gonna miss this bastard country.

but, i've still got a week. i'm sure something will go awry during that time. hell, who knows what'll happen at the dinner tonight. you get all of us americans together and we start being...well, americans. obnoxious and drunk, mostly.

i guess it's just weird that i'm leaving so soon. in hardly more than a week i won't be waking up to french news on the radio, won't have three boulangerie's within a five minute walk from my house, won't be living in my tiny ass room, won't be buying excellent bordeaux reds and jurancon blanc secs for 3 or 4 euro every week at the grocery store, won't be hauling furniture through the building so we can fit ten people at two tables (built for two) for a dinner party, won't want to call my friends but not be able to because it costs too much, won't feel that little bit of pride when somebody asks you something on the street and you respond in perfect french without translating in your head first, won't be flattered when somebody doesn't realize you're american (or even foreign at all) until they've talked with you for about five minutes and finally noticed that you don't have a speech impediment, it's just an accent..
all that shit, man.

wow this is boring. i hope you stopped reading by now. this is shit. i'm just avoiding a paper. yay for putting off the major project for your class until the last day!

we're in france, so that's about right

number of times somebody's thrown up in my room
3

number of times that person has been me
0
ok, so i left out a part of the story. i left it out because it didn't seem important enough to include. it's really a minor detail, to me.

i set my alarm for 7:30 and smash the snooze until 8 when i have to go to school at nine. last night, from sleeping on the floor with Other sister, i crawled into bed with Hot sister when the alarm initially sounded.

did i leave this part out before? actually i don't remember now, but i'll recount it just in case.

so, alarm goes, i crawl into bed (because the alarm is right next to my bed) and smash the snooze and then i just stay there because i plan on hitting the snooze a few more times before i get up. i kind of cuddle with Hot sister (she is, after all, quite beautiful) in my half-asleep, hungover state but i don't think it's really a big deal. i'm in bed with a beautiful woman, of course i'm going to cuddle her a bit. but it's not like i tried to kiss her or even cuddle much at all. i'd say for at least half the time i was facing the other way anyway because it was more comfortable.

anyway, i stay in bed until about eight and then turn the alarm off and shower and junk and finally wake the girls and they go home.

remember how Z said she was mad at me? she said, in a text, "wow. no respect whatsoever." and i offered to talk to her about the situation and told her she could call me whenever she wanted to talk about it (later tonight, next week, whenever) if she ever decided she wanted to. well, Other sister calls me from Z's phone and asks to hear my side of the story, the one i offered to tell to Z. so i sort of start into it and she tells me that the reason z is angry is because of the 30 minutes of faux cuddling i did with Hot sister while i snuck in my last few minutes of dozing before school. not because i hooked up with Other when Z told me not to. she's mad because i half-cuddled with Hot sister when i was half-asleep. and apparently Hot sister is mad about it too, now. Other made it seem like she wasn't mad about it until Z got mad about it.

anyway, that was surprising to me. maybe one of my lady friends can help me out, does what i did make me the scum of the earth? honestly, to me it wasn't a concern. it didn't even register on my radar as something that might be inappropriate. i was very hungover and essentially still asleep, but even in my current state of mind i don't see so much of a problem. Z is mad because i did stuff with BOTH her sisters, but the "stuff" with one of them wasn't hardly "stuff" at all. i probably would have cuddled with a guy or a dog had one been in the place of hot sister.

i dunno, i really don't understand women. my biggest concern right now is hot sister. i really don't want to have made her feel uncomfortable or degraded or used or whatever. Z can get over it, it doesn't even directly affect her. Other sister said she sort of figured my point of view before i had even told her and doesn't care. that might be a facade, but i offered my apology anyway and that's all i can really do.


oh man, i guess i'm just a whore. caviar, i seriously need you so bad right now. not that i'm really that upset about this (i just spent about ten minutes laughing about it to my other friend on the phone), i just need to know what horrible act i committed that has Z mad enough to not be speaking to me anymore. Well, i guess i know the act, i just need to know what makes it so horrible. you put a half-asleep, very hungover man into a bed with a beautiful woman and see if the two don't cuddle. it's not like we were dry humping or had our legs intertwined, tangled in the throws of fully clothed (she was fully clothed [remember, she passed out in bed], i was wearing briefs) caressing or touching each other's privates or even other intimate parts of the body. it's not like she wasn't cuddling back. it was cozy and cute and comfortable. our faces were close at one point, if i'm remembering correctly, and i had my arm sort of draped over her side, i believe, and there might have been some footsie. i really don't remember. i wasn't thinking about it much because i was asleep and i didn't think it mattered anyway. but, apparently, it was also a very horrible thing for me to do. for us to do.

whatever. i'm just confused now. i guess it's sort of a bummer that another beautiful woman thinks i'm scum, but that's normal. well, two beautiful women. z and hot sister are both quite beautiful and they both think i'm quite awful.

just another day for me

oh yeah, and Other made it seem like she just got on the floor with me last night and commenced the action while i was still obliterated, which is what i had thought. i guess i could feel a little violated, but i don't really care.

Here comes Jimmy; hide your sisters

women who are related to me, stop right here

Z's 22. She has two younger sisters who are 20 and 18. They are visiting pau and arrived two saturdays ago. Two months ago, it was considered that they might stay with me for some time while they were here because Z had yet to ask her host mother if they could stay with her. "But you can't do either of them," she laughed to me. When she finally did ask her host mother's permission to house her siblings for a couple weeks, P (Z's host) was all too gracious and accepted them without hesitation.

Monday evening I got a text inviting me to drinks with the blonde trio on Wednesday night. I accepted. Tuesday I was informed by some other friends that i would be hosting a small dinner party at my apartment on Thursday. Wednesday came and, alas, the weather was quite unfavorable. The trio didn't want to brave the rain, understandably, and so i invited them to my dinner party the following evening. They accepted.

they arrived with bicycles and wished to put them into the bike garage, requiring me to meet them on the ground floor (i live on the fourth floor, which is fifth floor by american standards) and use my key to allow them access. I stepped off the elevator on the ground floor, turned on the light, turned left and saw a smoking hot blonde. I was caught off guard, then I realized that this young woman looked a whole lot like Z and put together that this must be one of her sisters. It was her youngest. I met the other one and we put the bikes in the garage and went to my room and the other guests arrived and we had a very nice dinner and got ridiculously drunk. I even smoked some of that stuff that i don't ever smoke anymore. That was a bad idea. Then, beautiful young blondie started throwing up because of how much she had drank. throwing up on my sheets and floor. clearly, she wasn't going to make it home. The older sisters cleaned up her mess and i said she could stay in my room and i could take the floor, or i could shack up with my neighbor across the hall if they felt more comfortable with that, or one or both of them could stay with her, or whatever. they decided that the other sister would stay too. Z and Other went to the bike garage (Other went so she could use my key to get access and then bring it back up [i didn't want to move because i was so fucked up]). I was going to wait for her to return and get the sleeping situations settled before i turned out the lights and junk, but i just passed out on the floor, pukey in my bed.

I awoke already making out. I didn't know who it was. It was still night, still dark. i eventually realized it was Other. she was on the floor with me, making out. we didn't do it all, but we did more than i would have liked (in retrospect, at the time i was just interested in the person with the vagina next to me). Pukey was still passed out above us.

they left in the morning.

and Z found out and is quite angry with me. how did she so eloquently put it in that text she sent me a couple hours ago, oh yes, "wow. no respect whatsoever." that was it. ha, so i told her she could hear my side of the story, if she likes. she hasn't decided.

honestly, i don't even know what happened. i woke up already making out. i don't know if i started doing something without realizing it or if she just started going into it with me and i woke up to it or what.

anyway, i sort of wish i had been more considerate of Z's feelings. and moreso, i wish i had been considerate of my own standards. most of all? i wish i had hooked up with the hot one, not the other one. not necessarily last night, since she was passed out drunk and that would have been highly unethical (and because she had vomited, so kissing or whatnot would have been gross).

i think that if france has taught me anything, it's that i will attempt to hump anything that moves, so long as i'm drunk enough. pay attention to the word "attempt" in that sentence. My body has a defense mechanism for these situations. when i am drunk enough to try and ball those who i should not ball, my penis fails. i guess it's a good thing, except it's also happened when i was trying to ball somebody that i SHOULD have balled. so, that's bad.

anyway...yeah. i just wish it had been the fucking hot one. caviar, i just want to talk to you so bad right now