Coming Down

You smack me in the eyes and take my sight, 
You cut my world in half baby, you're my knife,
I bag a lazy spine, I could take my life,
When I am coming down,
When I am coming down. 

Paris

I used to think of Paris as this over-commercialised, over embellished city; void of the culture, depth and intricacy that surrounded it and made France the beautiful country it is.  Une ville uniquement pour des touristes. I couldn't stand the types of people who bought into all the hype and tried to claim Paris as this luxurious, high-class place just because Gossip Girl filmed an episode or two there and so, for the longest time, I couldn't stand the thought of visiting the city. 

But I guess that paradigm was hypocritical, because in maintaining that ideology, I was also choosing to believe that Paris was only limited to what I saw on television, in magazines and in the eyes of other people. It was also ironic, because three weeks ago when I finally decided I needed to experience this city for myself, I loved it. 

I did some touristy things and I did some not so touristy things: L'Arc de Triomphe on the back of a motorbike, La Tour Eiffel via the staircase, the Mona Lisa at le Musée du Lourve, The Persistence of Memory at the Salvador Dali exhibition, ice-skating in the middle of Hôtel de Ville, Notre Dame, Sacre Coeur and a walk up the famous Champs Elysées. 

The beauty of Paris, de La Tour Eiffel

Funnily, it was the small things that I loved the most...

One of the best street performances I've seen

A bridge full of these little locks 

Gare du Bras de Fer

So there it is, there's more to Paris than expensive fashion, elitism and romantic clichés. It is definitely a stunning city and I see myself making a few more trips there before my year in Europe is up.    

      

You and I

In all this light, all I feel is dark,
Had the sun without it's warmth.
I'm freezing. 

When did your love, when did your love grow cold?
The closer I get, the further I have to go,
To places we don't know. 

So this is my life. And I just want you to know that I am both happy and sad and I'm still trying to figure out how that could be.

Perks of being a wallflower, Stephen Chbosky 

Going The Distance

A little update

So I've been M.I.A for a while. Most of my days have been preoccupied by the usual; the routine of university, cooking, cleaning and mes devoirs, the emotional struggle that normally encumbers my time and the occasional deep contemplation of life. I still haven't figured anything out yet but I will get back to you when I do. So far, one thing that has really stuck with me is reading something along the lines of, 'Nothing anybody does is because of you, it's a reflection of themselves'. I wish I could remember where I read it, because I think it would've saved me a lifetime's worth of frustration, resentment and exasperation if I had only known it sooner. 

Obligatory
I have completely lost the ability to pronounce this word thanks to having said, heard and read the French version so often since being here.
Obligatoire / Obligatory / Obligatoire / Obligatory / Obligatoire / Obligatory 

URGH!

Baby steps

Happy one month anniversary, Bordeaux! It's a short relationship we've had so far, but you've definitely made your mark. 

I sat in class today wondering whether I had changed from the petrified, naive girl that arrived here thirty-three days ago and for a long time I was disappointed because I couldn't think of anything that had changed for me. I was still walking the same black dog I was in Australia, still struggling with the most mundane of tasks, like buying stamps from La Poste, and still missing home just as much. 

But as I was walking home, a man stopped me and asked for the time. And, without any hesitation, I looked at my phone and replied, "Dix heures quarante". It doesn't sound like much, but it was significant for me. I didn't panic, I didn't scramble for the correct words, I didn't mumble something incoherent and walk away to disguise the fact that something as simple as 10:40 was too difficult for me to place together without looking like a fumbling idiot... I didn't even think, I just said it. I felt like it marked my uneventful, anticlimactic entrance into the French language.  

In fact, I found later today, upon more reflection, there have been other, more important lessons I've learnt here. I was a petrified, naive girl when I arrived here, I cried for most of the 7 hour flight from Abu Dhabi to Paris. But I just so happened to be seated next to a French psychologist who gave me the best advice of anyone, and it was that no matter how poorly you can speak a language, how out of place you look and feel, people will warm to you if you just smile and try, try and smile. 

I'm still nowhere near the person I want to be by the end of this year, but these are my baby steps to success.

I've been going through a lot lately...

And I feel like I've been saying that for over a year. Bordeaux is both a steep learning curve and an amazing opportunity for me, but right now I just don't want to deal with the challenge of learning a new language, the monotony of cooking and cleaning, the difficulties of French administration. Right now, I don't want my patience to be tested, I don't want to learn any more about myself and other people, I don't want to explore and I don't want to experience. 

I just want everything to stop, because I've been going through a lot lately and I've been saying that for over a year. And right now, I'm too tired to fix all of this by myself.  

Our first anniversary via Skype! I love this boy.

For you

If you love me with all of your heart,
If you love me,
I'll make you a star in my universe

Libre

So this is another Sunday I can successfully write off, having just arrived home at 2 in the afternoon on about 4 hours sleep. The French party hard. 

This new lifestyle is something truly novel to me. Back at home, living an hour away from the city was undeniably the bane of my existence. Any night out would have to be carefully orchestrated days in advance: How would we get there? How would we get home? Would anyone be willing to drive? Where could we park? What time will we get home? Does anyone have work the next day? It was always a discussion that left me wondering whether I really wanted to go out, whether all the meticulous organisation was even worth it. Then there was the fact that I lived with my parents, and an empty bed at 3am would neither go unnoticed or unpunished. A night out was a rarity, and even then I was always busy fighting my demons to enjoy it. 

But while I've been struggling with the grand changes of this new life, the most amazing thing about it is the freedom; if I want to go out, I will. There's nothing obstructing my choices, there's no one to answer to and finally, I can take full responsibility for my actions because I made the choices by myself, unhindered by obligations, pressures or judgements. I think this is the type of liberation I was so desperately craving in Sydney and I think it's also a tiny step closer to the independence I needed all of 2012.   

My interweb prioritiez

Chrome finally has this right. I'm not sure why, but this really bothered me until now. 

Surprisingly delicious

40c hot chocolate from a vending machine at university in France. One of the best hot chocolates I've ever had. 

Looking nice and awkward at Place de la Bourse, Bordeaux

Queue, pronounced "coo". I think.

A typical conversation with my house mate, Olivier:

Olivier: Qu'est-ce que tu as fais hier soir? (What did you do last night?)
Me: On a sorti d'un fête d'ERASMUS (We went to an ERASMUS party - a party for European exchange students)

Olivier: Ah oui? Ça a été? (Oh right, how was it?)

Me: Ça va, mais il y avait beaucoup de gens et un grand queue (It was ok, but there was a lot of people and a huge queue)

Olivier: C'est quoi? (What was that?)

Me: Il y avait beaucoup de gens... (There was a lot of people...)

Olivier: Oui... (Yes...)

Me: Et un queue... (And a queue...)

-Awkward silence-

Me: Une queue? "Coo"? Un "coo"?

Olivier: Une "coo"?

Me: Oui, une "coo".

Oliver: Non, "coo". 

Me: "Coo."

Olivier: "Coo." 

Me: "Coo."

Olivier: Non, "coo".

-Another awkward silence-

Me: Ok. 

The rules and regulations of ordering a steak

I've been to four different countries in the last two months and one of the most difficult things about being somewhere new is figuring out the local customs. Even eating out for me presents a challenge; it's a mind boggling experience. When I walk in, should I wait to be seated, or am I allowed to sit at my own free will? When I'm ready to order, shall I walk up to the counter or wait to be served? What happens if I want dessert, does eye contact to the nearest waiter/waitress suffice, or should I clap my hand and yell 'garçon'? (no that's actually really rude in France, only people in Hollywood films do that). When I'm finished, do I ask for the bill and pay at the table or proceed to the front? Am I meant to tip, what is an acceptable tip? 

This is the stuff they don't teach in university or language school - how to behave. You can't be Australian in France and that's the problem. I could be the most obscene, offensive, disrespectful person in France and I wouldn't even know it.  

Brighter Lights

Playing Patrick James on repeat while I stare out my window at this. I'm home sick and I don't like today very much.

5 degrees and Bordelais Rosé

I've been braving the cold, wind and rain since I arrived. One broken umbrella, two pairs of thermals, several swims through 'the shortcut', a near case of frostbite and a sore throat later, I've decided that if there's one thing I could change about this city right now, it would be the season. 

But the weather isn't the only thing I've been battling. It's only been one week, and I've heard the line, 

We're in Bordeaux for a year  

more times than I've heard Gangnam Style in the last six months. The general consensus seems to be the same, if one is in Bordeaux for a year, one must be plastered every night to enjoy it. But being drunk isn't particularly novel to me, and my days of being a drunken mess every Friday and Saturday night are for the most part, behind me. I'm less excited by the night life than I should be, but there's nothing wrong with that and I wish I wasn't made to feel bad for the fact that on a -2 degree night, I'd rather sit at home, hanging out in my PJs, listening to good music. 

I think my willingness to explore les soirées de Bordeaux will only increase with time, but for now, I'm content with settling in and absorbing the French culture little by little. This is a picture of my first Bordelais rosé!

Yvecourt 2010, 11€

"Shit, this isn't what I thought this would be like..."

This was my constant thought from the second I left Sydney to the second I arrived at what would be my new home in Bordeaux, 17,300 kilometres away from my friends and family. One week ago, I arrived at my apartment feeling the emptiest I've ever felt. You see, when I was a naive 17-year-old and it came time to choose preferences for university courses, I looked at the International Studies degree and saw an exhilarating, liberating future. On my own, I could probably live my life exactly the way I wanted now, I thought. Up until that point, and even until now, I had struggled with the feeling that no one saw me as an adult; as my own person who could make the right decisions for myself. I was constantly trying to prove myself and to my constant dismay, I was always met with someone older or wiser questioning me. So, exasperated from so many years of being the baby, I chose the degree that would take me half way across the world so I could finally prove that I was intelligent, mature and more than capable enough of taking care of myself. This is how I came to be in Bordeaux.

This opportunity would've been perfect for that girl three years ago. But I'm 20 now, and strangely, I feel like it's myself I need to prove these things to. The idea is daunting; I'm homesick and overwhelmed, but I've been doing it. I'm paying my rent, opening bank accounts, cooking three meals a day, spending more time in the grocery store than Rue Sainte-Catherine and I'm not falling apart at every given opportunity. Ready or not, I guess I'm an adult now.