An Interlude

A big welcome to the people who work for Glimpse.org, who may or may not be reading my blog now!

I'd like to take this moment (perhaps in light of my newest readers) to point out that this blog is extremely representative of one thing, and one thing only:
How hectic it is to study in another country.

Sure, I could say it's showing how adventurous I am. I mean, I wrote about eating snails! Is that not fabulous? My mother points out to me that no, in fact, it is not fabulous. She says that snails are full of bacteria and that I should not eat them. All the more reason to argue that I'm adventurous! I'm eating bacteria-ridden snails! Oh, the adventure!

Or we could suppose that it could show my French prowess. I have conversations in French, I translate them into English, and I post them on my blog. How fantastic am I?

Maybe I've got the social commentary thing goin' for me on this blog. I have those pictures from Normandy, right? I'm proud to say that I was the first to notice that the Nazi flag had been spat upon, and the only who attempted to photograph the spit (and not just the flag). I have photographs of the beach. (I neglected to mention that as I walked across the beach with my sandals in hand, I felt as though I were walking across a graveyard, watching life go on.) And let's not forget the funny French stores with funny French names.

Perhaps I'm writing 'creative' reports about the French lifestyle. (This reminds me, I have two short poems to share with you as soon as I find my binder). Worms, my Abridged History of the World post, my little anecdotes about people asking me if I'm Russian, my difficulties with the Sorbonne's system... these all could be tiny reports! Okay, maybe not the anecdotes. Well, I'm sure I could write something about how to avoid being spoken to on the street (hint: try to look like an axe-murderer who is about to snap).

I could say that I've been showing off my writing style, but that would be a blatant lie. While much of what I write on this blog is very "me," you have to admit that if you've ever read one of my essays, my blogging style is written as though I were speaking to personal friends. ...which I am. And let's not kid ourselves, I'm no great orator. Or if I am, I've been hiding this talent from you for a very long time. Not that I'm terrible at speaking, mind you; on the contrary, I seem to speak quite a lot! Even when unprovoked!

"But Cindy," I hear you say, "France isn't all that different, is it? Don't you mostly keep this blog to let your friends and relatives (among others) know that you're still alive and that you have not yet contracted swine flu?"

My response is as follows:

What is this sudden pessimism on your part? If France isn't all that different, why do I find something to write about every week--nay, every day (I just forget to write down everything that happens to me)? And why do you occasionally leave messages of disbelief? Or rather, why, when I call you, do you say, "I read that on your blog, but I don't understand!" Why wouldn't I just create a contact list on my email account and send out a mass email once a week reading, "I live. I have no swine flu." (I eliminated the verb "to be" from that because there surfaces every few years a movement to eliminate all forms of "to be" from the English language. The question truly is "to be" or NOT "to be." This amuses me; thus, I share it with you.)?

Because truly, though France has many similarities to the United States, there are major differences between the two cultures and the two languages. You say avocado, I say lawyer!

And though I truly have many more topics about which I would like to wax prosaic, I simply must fly away on the wings of... well, on my feet, as the metro workers are having a strike and only 1/3 of the trains are running.

And lo! I depart! To the Sorbonne!