Thought on leaving France, in terms of trampolines, accordions, and the moon...

For as much as I absolutely love it, the experience of changing location [and the lurch I find myself in during the days before I move] terrifies me. I've said far too many goodbyes over the past few days, and the weight of the future au revoir's is starting to overwhelm me. I am not ready to leave this city, region, or country. Saturday night I went to nº 23, where I said goodbye to two of my better "French friends." Beer, crying, dancing, smiling, laughing, shouting, hugging, kissing, more dancing and laughing, and finally we faded into the roar of the dancing crowd. It still hasn't really set in.

Lately I've been feeling like something of a trampoline. Or, something that hopes it is lucky enough to have the same characeristics as a trampoline. Every bit of me feels like its being tugged in a hundred different directions. I'm incredibly tense, but keeping it together. I feel the weight and power it has over me, but this tension is firm and not going anywhere. I've been able to spring back into shape after the blows I've been dealt most recently. My head would probably even stay on straight if I were confronted with more than I am handling now. But let's not test that theory, not just yet...

I'm also feeling like life is something of an accordion, and I am at the end of the longest "inhale" that my particular instrument has ever experienced. The bellows can handle no more, a rip or tear is almost imminent. I say inhale, instead of exhale, for a reason. Holding my breath in a car while driving through a tunnel has become almost second nature. But sometimes that driver in front of you is going so, so, so slow, or the tunnel is so, so, so long, and all I can do to hold on to the wheel is inhale the tiniest bits of oxygen in order to be able to tell myself I'm not "cheating" on this self-imposed breath-holding game.

I have been holding my breath for a very, very long time.

This impending exhale will be one of tornado-like force, and waterspout-like beauty. Nothing will be destroyed, per se, but landscapes will change rapidly and everything will look the same but feel different. And the notes from the accordion will be a beautiful release that will most surely flow into another inhale.

Leaving places is never easy for me. I wish I could just... be content. I feel better when I'm in motion, even if I'm only moving for the same of motion itself. Gah, I miss my bicycle. Being in such a different culture for so long has revealed to me many aspects of being an American that I absolutely love. I can't wait to be home and explore those aspects of life.

Studying abroad has, in some ways, felt like living on the moon. The most beautiful landscapes I've ever known. As a child, I never imagined being able to actually live here, especially not for as long as I've had the chance to. But here I am, on the moon, which is fully-inhabitable, despite my original fears. I'm looking out at the other stars, and they're not so far. But to get to them I've got to leave here, and, more importantly, take myself even farther away from home. My heartstrings are so tied to Oregon, to the idea of "home" that it represents in my mind. But at the same time, I've got to know what else is out there. My heart will never be content if I don't reach as far as I can.

A week from today I will no longer be Poitevine. Well, I'll always be Poitevine, but my residency will return to Oregonian, and after a few weeks of limbo, my feet will feel Oregon soil beneath them.

Hello, blogosphere!

The calendar says it hasn't been too long since the last time I had something to say here, but my mind [and body!] says differently. This week marks 2 years of having my hair dreaded, which is really huge, if only for me. I guess its a type of... wow, look at all the things I've done in the past two years! sentiment, which is somehow demarkated by a major change in hairstyle. I didn't have any time length goals when I set off on this adventure. Just going to keep with it until it doesn't feel right anymore.

Monday I had an exam in linguistique, which was different, and not as difficult as I was expecting it to be. I mean, yeah, I was sort of anticipating the same difficult as the second exam last semester. But this semester was determinants, not the subjunctive, so I am still standing proud, and feel good about that exam. I also had an exam in les français et la mer, which I am pretty sure I completely failed. It was horrible. I don't know what I was expecting, but I definitely awsn't prepared for a devoir sur table de 3h., which is torture. 3 hours to write an in-class essay on a topic, in a very, very French, methodological fashion.

In any case. I spent from about Saturday to yesterday studying for la société moderne française, and I managed to almost finish my dissertation. We did have four hours, instead of 3, and I was a lot more prepared for this exam. I was missing two paragraphs, but I feel good about my organization, sentence structures, and what I wrote. Somewhere around the third hour I was hit by a spell of delirium. My brain was only functioning in French, using words and explaining facts that I have never said or thought in English. Some words that I don't even know the English word for. I'm pretty sure I used at least 6 tenses: présent, passé composé, imparfait, plus-que-parfait, futur, conditionnel, futur antérieur, et subjonctif. Take that, grammar! It felt like a breakthrough, or the pinnacle of my academic career here. Afterward I was completely exhausted. Lucy and I mey up with Alex for dinner [mmmmm kebabs.... Lucy took the exam, too], then we watched an episode of Dr Who.

Today is the first day in a long time that I've had to sleep in and sort of relax. I know I have a lot of work left for school, but I also need to start thinking about packing and getting things home, what to bring while I travel, etc.

Travel! Well, not quite travel. I've found a farm to work on, outside of Barcelona, for two weeks, before I leave Europe. I'm leaving the Poitz the 18th, getting there the 24th, then I'll spend the night of the 9th somewhere in Barcelona, and be home way, way, way too soon.

April's coming to a close...?

Near the top of the list of reasons that I do not want to leave France is its epic healthcare system. A few weeks ago I went to the doctor to talk about an ongoing "health problem" that I've been dealing with for a number of years. We worked our way through my medical history [hurrah dictionary!], and after about half an hour of the most patience anyone has shown me over the past eight months, the doctor takes a good look at me and tells me that modern medicine is probably what's kept this problem from going away, and probably making it worse. She then prescribed me a number of homeopathic "medications" and went on about how modern medicine, namely antibiotics, treats the symptoms while generally aggravating the actual sources. These are things I've learned empirically over the past few years, but that no doctor has ever admitted to me. I. Absolutely. Love. The. French. Indeed, over the past month I've seen more progress with this problem than over the past five years. With only one 2-week round of antibiotics, and a plurality of tinctures/homeopathic remedies.

I'm starting to stress out over final exams, and how to get to Barcelona in order to get home. I know it'll all work out, I'm just not exactly sure how. [Especially since the doctor I've been seeing wants to see me at the beginning of June, and I'm sort of hoping to leave Poitiers around the middle of May...] There're a lot of things about "the future" that feel really uncertain right now. Like, how to get all of my crap to the other side of the pond. It was suggested that I not ship much, because of how backed up the post is [thanks, volcano!]. On the other hand, I'm not really interested in traveling with ALL of my stuff. Three dictionaries, my massive "trapper keeper", my computer, silverware etc. No, thanks. I'm also super behind on letters, which disappoints me. I seem to be able to get a good batch of postcards out every couple weeks. I don't know if they're making it over to people, or if they're sitting somewhere between here and there [once again, thanks, volcano!].

On the theme of home. A lot of my girl friends are going to be out in Eugene at the end of June, and nothing warms my heart like the prospect of puzzle and movie nights, the solstice, coffee, the community gardens, vegan cooking, veganism in general, too many hours at the Goat, bike rides by the river, and time spent in trees. I'll also be in Oregon in time for summer classes, and Ted Toadvine is teaching his envorinmental philosophy course, which will be the last course I'll have the chance to take from him, because he's going on sabbatical next year. At the very least, I want to creeper on it, because I think it'll give me a good feel for what I may or may not want to write a senior thesis on. At any rate, I should email him and beg him to not leave, and not leave us all with Peter Warnek as an advisor again. Blah. Do not want.

Other than that, not too much to report on. We had a Centre Oregon excursion this weekend, but my camera batteries died about two hours into the trip, so all I have is a number of postcards somewhere in my journal/bags that came with me. It was an exhausting weekend, full of thousands of stairs, a bunch of old, old churches, some caves and cave paintings, an underground river, and a moonlit chateau invasion [complete with barbed wire climbing... needless to say, my hair got caught many, many times]. Tonight Jess and I went for a long walk along the railroad tracks and on into Biard. We were standing on a bridge when the train went under us. Which reminded me that possibly my favorite song, ever, is Summertime Clothes by Animal Collective.

tickets...

Tickets cause existential crises.

And it is way, way too early for that.

A ticket was purchased, meaning I have a date, an exact date on which I am leaving, and a time that I will be in Portland, Oregon. It's still bizarre and a bit painful to think about it. my mom sort of snuck it up on me, first giving me "until the end of the week", but then giving me all these dates and prices, and telling me that Stef will be home for Monster's graduation. Going to Denmark really isn't a practical possibility at this point, because of the volcano that erupted in Iceland, shutting down most European airports. It was late here, and my brain feels like constant hangover, despite no substantail amounts of alcohol in ages, and I said okay.

As what I feel like is some sort of compromise, my mom suggest that I think about finding work and moving to Eugene when I get home. I want to settle in Eugene. I want to live there. Not just go to school there. I'd stay and work in a coffee shop or wash dishes. I am desperate for roots, and my heart has already started to put them out.

Since 2005:

[Each number indicates a major change in living situation, which was connected, almost each time, to a friends group change and many, many major environmental changes]

1. September 2005 : move to Oregon from Alabama

2. August 2007 : move to DC for school

3. December/January 2008 : move to Eugene for school

4. June - September 2008 : spent the summer in Salem

5. September - December 2008 : lived in hell with Miki

6. January -June 2009 : Cuckoo's nest

7. June-August 2009 : spent the summer in Salem

8. September 2009 - present : Poitiers, France

So, either:

9. June -August/September 2010 : Salem

10. September 2010 : move to Eugene for an indefinite amount of time

or:

9. June 2010 : move to Eugene for an indefinite amount of time

My heart is tired and weary and ready to be settled and planted and develop a coherent reality.

Sorry for being all. Heavy, and stuff. It's about that time, though. Seven months is a long time to feel unpotted.

random update, not really updating anyone about anything...

The new Broken Social Scene album is out, and, well, wow. I sometimes absolutely love pop music. They're on the same label, Arts & Crafts, which has done work with Stars, Feist, The Most Serene Republic, and Amy Millan, so it's no surprise that this album is so magical. I love when bands from when I was younger let out new CDs that don't disappoint.

My folk visit was really, really lovely. [There are photos up on my facebook, but apparently you have to be logged in to see them.] We made it to the Louvre, Musée d'Orsay, the Rodin museum, Centre Pompidou, Versailles, Notre Dame de Paris, saw the grands magasins, la Tour Eiffel, ate plenty of bread and cheese, and walked, walked, walked a ton. The one time we decided to take a taxi, it was a total failure. We waited at a taxi stand for more than half an hour, then finally decided to hoof it. We managed to hail a cab while we were walking, which was more or less a Sunday morning miracle.

I've been back in Poitiers for a few days now. I ended up not going to Norway, partly for financial reasons, partly for academic reasons, and partly for personal reasons. Next weekend [23-25 April!] we're going to the Dordogne to explore caves and see what all there is to see out there, which is going to be lovely, but exhausting. I know that seeing Daniel would have done me a world of good, but there were too many factors involved that made it difficult for me to leave France.

I still don't have a ticket home [typical]. There are some really reasonable tickets from Copenhagen to Seattle anytime until 16 June, and the train down to Salem is always $30, it seems. However, Monster's graduation is 10 June, and it would be nice to be there for that, but would be cutting it down to 2 weeks of travel in France, a week in Denmark, then straight home. Honestly, there's a lot about graduation time festivities that I wouldn't mind missing out on this year. But, on the other hand, if I am home that early, I could take a couple of [easier] classes at Chemeketa, to finish up requirements and leave myself more time next year to work on things like a thesis and post-graduation plans.

After a lot of talking with Cat, my trusty... well, sort of like my exterior conscience?... I've realized that it's going to be better for me to spend the summer in Oregon. There are a ton of people I miss, and little daily things that I am looking forward to being able to do, like pick blackberries and drink bad, warm beer [okay, okay, never done that legally in the states, but...], and ride my bike and drink American-style coffee. I may miss my bike more than I miss anything or anyone else; the freedom of mobility that comes with it, the complete self-reliance. Also, Stefanie has talked about all "the girls" spending a week together in Eugene. Oh, how I miss those women.

Okay. Time to get over to the library and force myself to work on this paper some more. My brain is so tired of French; I can see myself being able to write out a real philosophy paper in English right now, but it feels like such a stretch to do such synthetic work right now. So many layers of thought that I've been away from for far too long. It's like my brain is getting all mushy from being overworked for so long. Just a few more weeks, though.

I am horrible at keeping up with this thing.

One of the major setbacks of not updating this blog very often, is that it then becomes very difficult for me to create any sense of continuity. Oh, the challenge of composition.

So. Where were we?

The exam for les français et la mer is not until sometime in May. Max was mistaken, and practically gave me a heart attack. Also, my philosophy paper got moved to sometime in May, which means I only have two exams this week. Downside to the paper being moved is that the professor wants 6 to 8 pages, single-spaced, and French paper is longer than American paper. Alas.

I have decided against Going Nowhere, instead I am going to Denmark to visit family. My mom's been cheering for me to go there for about five months now. Despite my Danish heritage, I've never really had it on my list of places I dream of visiting. I know that my mom was there when she was about my age, and had the time of her life. A part of me feels like she wants me to relive her experiences, or relive them vicariously through me. But, if she did have a fantastic time, what do I have to lose? I'm sort of excited to get to know this side of my family. I met Uncle Torban a few years ago when he was visiting Oregon, and he's a lot like my grandpa Carl, whom I adore. En plus, Keelie, one of my cousins, visited them a couple of years ago, and from what I've heard, she really liked Denmark.

The weather has become all... spring like. It's cold and windy and rainy one moment, and the next it's warm and sunny and lovely; the flowers freshly watered and everything is blooming and shining in that fantastic way that it does this time of year. The time change [Europe observes daylight savings time at a different time than North America] has really thrown me off. It stays light so late, yet it's somehow still pretty light even when I wake up at 7am. Last night I forgot to turn the heater off before falling asleep, and woke up sweating around 5am. My sleeping self decided to turn off the heater and open the window. I think some baby birds have already made it out of their eggs! Such singing and squawking and whatnot, all through the night! There's nothing that remotely resembles a screen on my window, so I don't know what sort of little creatures have access to my room. At any rate, the sensation of waking up to such fresh air is. Well, it's refreshing.

I've been drinking a lot of maté lately, which, I think, has been affecting my dream-cycle. Such vivid, elaborate dreams. I don't really record them, which may or may not be smart? They don't correspond much to reality, but they're definitely my subconscious self working a lot of stuff out. From what I've read, if people share the same maté leaves from the same bombilla [drinking communally], they will have shared dreams. Hrmmm...

Time is so distended. I have this week of classes, then two weeks of break [one week with my folks!!!, then a week in Norway visiting Daniel!], then one week of history classes and two weeks of CLFE classes, two weeks of exams, then I'll be technically "free" from Poitiers on 15 May. Back in February my train was more than 2 hours delayed, so SNCF reimbursed me 66% of my ticket. I mailed in the form, not really hoping for anything. But yesterday I got a letter with 31.60 Euros worth of rail vouchers. It was nice to get that, even though I don't have any immediate plans to use it. Today makes seven months in Europe, which is absolutely absurd in its own way. I can hardly wrap my mind around it. Last night I went for a very, very long walk through neighborhoods I've never seen before. It happens all the time. How have I lived here for so long, yet explored so little? Or. I feel like I know so much of this city, but every time I leave my house I seem to discover a new corner of it.

The next time I update I will probably know when I am heading home. Weird to find myself at this point already. Stefanie Holloway has promised she'll make it out to Eugene when I get home. Also, my sister is looking into visiting Seattle/Portland/Salem with her boyfriend, whom I have yet to meet!, around the end of July. Wow. How is it already so near summer again?? When do I register for fall classes? How am I going to finish all of my undergrad studies in just one year? There are so many things I want to learn, so many classes I want to take! And I don't even know where I'll be living in the fall. Perhaps a sofa, until I can find somewhere real. Hmmm...

eating avocados again

Since we last spoke!

- studying for les français et la mer, as well as a good amount of reading for philosophy. I may have figured out my exams schedule, and if so, I am not looking forward to it

- I've been in contact with folks about Going Nowhere, and think I am going to end up there for a few weeks this summer, which means not going home until the end of July.

- agonizing over when to go home: follow my heart, follow my head

- consuming a nice [7 euro] bottle of red wine over the course of 3 days. a.k.a. giving the wine the time it deserves to be appreciated

- hours spent at Parc Blossac with friends and sunshine

- finally got around to putting photos on my walls, mostly thanks to some photos from Lauren that really do warrant wall space

- half a dozen organic eggs at the market is only 10¢ more than half a "conventional" dozen eggs at the gorcery store

- got grades back for CFLE midterms. 12,5 in history, 13,5 in linguistic. French grading system is so. French. Bizarre to content myself with the "numeric equivalent" of 60-65%, even if it is a really, really good mark

I have a stack of stamped envelopes waiting for me to fill them with letters and seld them off. It may not happen until after exams next week, but I will get letters to these folks.