Gripes

I love France. I feel the need to preface this blog with that, because I am about to sound very, very grouchy and unhappy to be here, which (overall) I am not. That being said...
I have somehow acquired a French plague. It has lodged in my throat, chest and sinuses. I think it breeds on my American blood. It is a little bastard, and naturally, it hit as SOON as the sun was out for more than 5 consecutive minutes. I am sure being in a smoke filled bar last night did not help matters.

My carte de sejour: well, I got my recepisse, which is basically my "in the process of getting the carte de sejour" get out of jail free card. Now I have to wait for the ANAEM to get their act together and schedule the medical appointment that they say I must have. This was a glorious victory, after 3 unsuccessful visits to the Prefecture (1st: closed for lunch. 2nd: they tell me CDS can only be issued in the AM. 3rd: I didn't have my certificat de domicile, saying that I am living somewhere. Yeah, like I came ALL this way to live on the f--ing street with the dog people). Although I think that Prefecture is French for "Satan's nursery," seeing as how there were at least 5 different kids in there and EVERY SINGLE ONE was shrieking hysterically. Not fussy, not running around. Shrieking, tantrum-throwing lil hellians. Then again, if they hadn't issued me my recepisse, I may have been throwing a shrieking tantrum too.

Speaking of living on the street... I am in a paradox. I am staying for free at my school in a room with no kitchen facilities. So, I must eat out; which means I am spending money fast. Spending my money means I will have less for an apartment (which generally requires a 2 months' of rent deposit) should I actually find one. Plus, I am coming to the realization that I will have to suck it up and go through an agency immobilier, which requires a fee of 100+ euro. Joy. Either way, I will probably be asking people back home to Fed-Ex me some ramen, since I will likely be broke in a matter of days.

And speaking of streets... maybe this is my Americanism speaking, but what is with the total lack of sidewalk etiquette, France?!? When you and your two friends are walking side by side by side, and I am walking the other direction towards you, one of you MOVES to let me past. It takes 2 seconds, then you can resume your Wizard of Oz style jaunt down the sidewalk. Does it REALLY make more sense for me to walk in the middle of the street, at the mercy of the insane frog drivers, just so you can be thisclose to your friends? And don't even suggest not moving; they WILL walk right into you (the kids do this to me in the hallway at school all the time. I think I will push one a wall one some day).

And speaking of SPEAKING... I understand that I must look like a native. This is flattering; and evident by the number of people who come up to me asking for God knows what. I never brush them off initially, but sometimes I really don't understand. So I struggle a bit. Now, if the tables were turned and I was back home asking a random person for directions or money or whatever, and they struggled with English, I would say/think, "Oh, you're foreign, don't worry about it, I will ask someone who understands and let you off the hook." Not here, nu-uh. They sit and stare at me like they expect me to rattle off perfect French in a matter of seconds. If I say, "Je ne comprends pas, mon français n'est pas très bien," they will re-state the question. Comment dit-on "Leave me the FUCK alone?" en français?

The texts from the US. Naturally; Orange is happy to take my money and send texts there, but won't accept them back. This is especially obnoxious seeing as how they have reverted technology-wise from the last time I was here (I got texts from the US just fine, and they were cheaper to send). Although apprently-- and I doubt I can say this often-- I don't entirely blame them. Dad told me the other day that the US now considers texts to be a spy threat, and France (and myself) think that is absolutely stupid. Why on earth would the French give a flying fuck what we're doing?! So in "retaliation" the French no longer guarantee texts from the US, which is what the guy at Orange told me 30 seconds before I burst into tears. I still cross the street every time I walk past that Orange store due to my embarrassment.

The humidity. I have completely stopped flat-ironing my hair because no matter how hard I try, I get a white girl fro in a matter of 5 seconds if I step outside. Now I know hy so many lil white Frenchy girls sport the white girl dreds look.

OK. End rant. Overall my time here is great, I am just sick and broke and cranky. But lots of things are going well- I've been making friends with my students and other assistants, I splurged and bought two new pairs of shoe the other day (which I know goes against my whole money rant, but they were 5 euro a pair!!!), Jess will be in Europe in 28 days :D :D :D :D during which time I will hopefully get to see Ally and/or Kayt, other than the apt I have everything in order (I think). I just want a place to live and my health. Is that so much to ask???