Since I was 8, I dreamed of becoming an American Gladiator. My brother and I used to watch that show every Friday evening while my parents were getting ready to go out (it was their weekly "date night" which meant my brother and I could sit in front of the tv all night eating pizza/spaghetti-Os and convincing the babysitters that our parents usually let us drink cokes and eat oreos in the living room).
For years, American Gladiator re-enactments took place in various locations including the rec room (Assault= shooting my brother with a nerf gun while hiding/jumping around furniture), the backyard (Power Ball= running around the yard with various balls while trying to avoid being tackled by the other), the playground (Hang Tough= fighting on the monkey bars, which resulted in many of my classmates broken arms in 5th grade), and any location good for some jousting with sticks or general wrestling.
So, now that the show has been resurrected by NBC, my childhood dream has been rekindled. It is my destiny to be on this show! Plus, I could totally rock one of those gladiator costumes, although I wonder if the TV producers would insist that I have a fake tan.
Sadly, I missed the Season 2 casting calls that took place earlier this year, but now I have time to get myself ready for Feb. 2009! Season 3, I'm going to dominate.
To get myself physically prepared, I have consulted the following website with helpful tips on gladiator training:
http://www.how2blogger.com/2007/12/06/how-to-train-for-american-gladiators/
I will also be recruiting my brother to spend the summer throwing tennis balls at me while I run around the park, and will maybe recruit the neighbors kids to hang on my legs while I try to cross the monkey bars. Not sure where I can find one of those giant hamster balls, but that will be on my summer to-do list too.
Any other training advice? What about my gladiator name? I'm thinking "Frost"- cold and deadly, she'll sneak up on you and cause you to lose your appendages if you're not prepared!!!!!!
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Monday, April 21, 2008
First weekend out- 8 on the L'AE index
OK- so now that I've explained L'auberge Espagne, I've decided to rate my France experiences on an L'AE index. 10 being like, straight out of the movie super duper cool, and 0 being like, my life sucks and I wish I was back in Cortland, New York, where at least I had real friends and the $7 Ho-Ho buffet.
This weekend, believe it or not, was the first weekend I went "out" in St. Etienne. Well, technically I went to dinner with some teammates after one of our games a few weeks ago, but that kind of sucked, I'd give it a 4 on the L'AE chart. We were at a big table, and I didn't really talk to many people, and my best friends from the team didn't come so I was stuck with all of the kind of mean French girls. And a waiter spilled 10 glasses of kir all over us. Lame.
Anyway, back to this weekend. Saturday started out pretty well when my super cool French roommate Caroline invited me to come downtown and hang out in a cafe. Score! Totally L'AE!!! We spent more than 3 hours sitting outside at the Place Jean Jaures drinking appertifs and having conversations about life in France/life in America. Good times. I was speaking French and not sucking!
After our lovely afternoon out in the cafe, Caroline invited me to come with her to her friend's house for dinner. Like me, Caroline is new to St. Etienne, she moved here in March to do an internship for a few months. However, it turns out her cousin's girlfriend- Tiffany- is living here doing a PhD, so she kind of has an insta-friend. Very convenient.
Caroline's cousin also happened to be in town this weekend, so the four of us had a nice dinner at Tiffany's place. This gets a high rating on the L'AE meter- the food was great, and everyone was super cool and intelligent, so we had some "real" (ie. not crazy like the other night) discussions about politics and current events. A highpoint in the dicussion was when we realized that all high school world history class is the same: start with pre-historic man, touch on Egypt, do the Greece/Rome thing, MAYBE touch briefly on the Middle Ages before getting to World War I, spend some good time on World War II (don't forget the part where you make an impression about the Holocaust with gruesome pictures/movies for a week), and then rush through the rest of 20th century in one or two days. No mention of current events and recent history like apartheid, Rwanda, Somalia, Bosnia, and the Israeli/Palestinian crisis. Glad to know it isn't just the United States.
At around midnight, we cleaned up the table and decided to head out in search of a bar or pub where we could continue our insightful conversation. We walked around downtown for about forty minutes, and the town seemed totally dead. I couldn't believe it was a Saturday night and the streets were silent. Finally, not far from my place, we found a little bar called "Le vol du nuit" (night flight), directly across the street from this stunning cathedral.
Walking into the bar, it was like falling down the rabbit hole in Alice in Wonderland. The silent, peaceful streets (and shining Cathedral) were replaced by a loud "hopping" bar that apparently was themed around sex. Huge posters depicting vivid sexual acts plastered the walls, and the drink menu (which, by the way, had no explanations) contained drinks with sexual names. It was an amusing conversation when one of the French people went through the menu to explain to me what all of the different drinks meant, my sexual vocabulary not being up to snuff (not sure why they didn't teach "blowjob" in AP French).
We tried to ask the bartender what the different drinks were, but her patience was limited (big shock, she was French). She told us "it's an adventure, just choose something." I ended up taking what looked like the house specialty, a "tumulc" which turned out to be delicious! It was SUPER strong, and I was afraid I'd hit the floor after three sips, but it was yummy (peach and apple blended with their secret lethal alcohol mix). On top of the interesting atmosphere, the drinks were pretty cheap and very good.
My favorite part of the evening was that the bar didn't really close. Last call was around 1am (bars close around 1am here), so they locked the door, turned off the outside lights, pulled down the gate/cage thing in front of the doors/windows, and just left everyone inside. At around 3am, we decided to leave, and in order to exit the building had to climb up a ladder into the attic, sneak through a secret hallway and down a back stairwell. When we finally arrived back on the street, it was silent. Looking at the front of the building, all dark and locked up, you would never guess there were still 40 people sitting inside having a good time. Hilarious.
Overall I give this a 8 on the L'AE chart. It was a pretty damn good time, although fairly tame. Nothing too wild, despite the scandalous surroundings of the bar.
I was pretty pleased with myself that I was able to spend the entire day speaking French with a bunch of French people, and fully participating in the social interaction. I didn't feel like an outsider at all, even if occasionally they had to explain something to me. I hope there are more days like this, I just wish it hadn't taken all of this time to happen!
This weekend, believe it or not, was the first weekend I went "out" in St. Etienne. Well, technically I went to dinner with some teammates after one of our games a few weeks ago, but that kind of sucked, I'd give it a 4 on the L'AE chart. We were at a big table, and I didn't really talk to many people, and my best friends from the team didn't come so I was stuck with all of the kind of mean French girls. And a waiter spilled 10 glasses of kir all over us. Lame.
Anyway, back to this weekend. Saturday started out pretty well when my super cool French roommate Caroline invited me to come downtown and hang out in a cafe. Score! Totally L'AE!!! We spent more than 3 hours sitting outside at the Place Jean Jaures drinking appertifs and having conversations about life in France/life in America. Good times. I was speaking French and not sucking!
After our lovely afternoon out in the cafe, Caroline invited me to come with her to her friend's house for dinner. Like me, Caroline is new to St. Etienne, she moved here in March to do an internship for a few months. However, it turns out her cousin's girlfriend- Tiffany- is living here doing a PhD, so she kind of has an insta-friend. Very convenient.
Caroline's cousin also happened to be in town this weekend, so the four of us had a nice dinner at Tiffany's place. This gets a high rating on the L'AE meter- the food was great, and everyone was super cool and intelligent, so we had some "real" (ie. not crazy like the other night) discussions about politics and current events. A highpoint in the dicussion was when we realized that all high school world history class is the same: start with pre-historic man, touch on Egypt, do the Greece/Rome thing, MAYBE touch briefly on the Middle Ages before getting to World War I, spend some good time on World War II (don't forget the part where you make an impression about the Holocaust with gruesome pictures/movies for a week), and then rush through the rest of 20th century in one or two days. No mention of current events and recent history like apartheid, Rwanda, Somalia, Bosnia, and the Israeli/Palestinian crisis. Glad to know it isn't just the United States.
At around midnight, we cleaned up the table and decided to head out in search of a bar or pub where we could continue our insightful conversation. We walked around downtown for about forty minutes, and the town seemed totally dead. I couldn't believe it was a Saturday night and the streets were silent. Finally, not far from my place, we found a little bar called "Le vol du nuit" (night flight), directly across the street from this stunning cathedral.
Walking into the bar, it was like falling down the rabbit hole in Alice in Wonderland. The silent, peaceful streets (and shining Cathedral) were replaced by a loud "hopping" bar that apparently was themed around sex. Huge posters depicting vivid sexual acts plastered the walls, and the drink menu (which, by the way, had no explanations) contained drinks with sexual names. It was an amusing conversation when one of the French people went through the menu to explain to me what all of the different drinks meant, my sexual vocabulary not being up to snuff (not sure why they didn't teach "blowjob" in AP French).
We tried to ask the bartender what the different drinks were, but her patience was limited (big shock, she was French). She told us "it's an adventure, just choose something." I ended up taking what looked like the house specialty, a "tumulc" which turned out to be delicious! It was SUPER strong, and I was afraid I'd hit the floor after three sips, but it was yummy (peach and apple blended with their secret lethal alcohol mix). On top of the interesting atmosphere, the drinks were pretty cheap and very good.
My favorite part of the evening was that the bar didn't really close. Last call was around 1am (bars close around 1am here), so they locked the door, turned off the outside lights, pulled down the gate/cage thing in front of the doors/windows, and just left everyone inside. At around 3am, we decided to leave, and in order to exit the building had to climb up a ladder into the attic, sneak through a secret hallway and down a back stairwell. When we finally arrived back on the street, it was silent. Looking at the front of the building, all dark and locked up, you would never guess there were still 40 people sitting inside having a good time. Hilarious.
Overall I give this a 8 on the L'AE chart. It was a pretty damn good time, although fairly tame. Nothing too wild, despite the scandalous surroundings of the bar.
I was pretty pleased with myself that I was able to spend the entire day speaking French with a bunch of French people, and fully participating in the social interaction. I didn't feel like an outsider at all, even if occasionally they had to explain something to me. I hope there are more days like this, I just wish it hadn't taken all of this time to happen!
Saturday, April 19, 2008
L'auberge Twilight Zone
I think I have mentioned "L'auberge Espagne" in many of my posts since arriving in France. In case you are not familiar with this film, I will explain briefly what it is, and then insist that you go see it. It is one of my favorite films of all time, and up until I moved to France, every time I watched it, it made me want to run away to Europe. Now that I live in France, it makes me want to run away to Barcelona, where apparently, life is much MUCH cooler than France.
The principle plot in the movie is that this French guy moves to Barcelona for a year as part of the Erasthmus program (the EU student exchange program). Basically, his entire perspective on life changes as a result of his amazing experience. He lives in a cool apartment (ie. the "auberge" which roughly translates to student apartment/hostel) with 4 other foreign students, and spends his days hanging out, "learning Spanish" (the same way I am "learning French"), having adventures with other foreigners, and basically just living the coolest life ever in Barcelona.
Anyway- whatever you do, see this movie. Just be aware that there is a high risk of wanting to pack your bags and run away to Barcelona right away.
Basically, this movie was the foundation on which I built my European Dream. I wanted to live la vie "l'auberge Espagne," eating dinners with my international friends and spending days in cafes and nights in the cool bars, having intelligent and amusing conversation.
Well, tonight, I had what could be described as more of a "L'auberge Twilight Zone" experience. Allow me to set the scene:
I am living with three girls in my apartment, one of whom is French, a second who is never there but is reportedly Senegalese or something, and a third who is Romanian but speaks only Spanish. Not bad, on paper it has the makings for an interesting place to live.
Caroline, the French girl, has the room next to mine and she is very cool. We "talk" often (or rather, she talks to me in rapid French and I nod along/laugh when it seems appropriate and act like I understand) and usually eat together if we are both in the house at night. The Romanian/Spanish girl, Carmen, is gone for days at a time for her work, but is around occasionally, definitely more than the Senegalese girl who I've only seen twice. However, given that I speak no Romanian or Spanish, and she speaks no English or French, our "conversation" involves speaking several languages until one of the words get recognized by the other. Slightly tragic.
Anyway, back to this evening. Somehow the three of us (Caroline, Carmen, and myself) all ended up talking in the kitchen (we have no living room in our apartment and the small kitchen table is the only communal area besides the bathroom). Firstly, I only speak English and French, Caroline speaks French and some Spanish, and Carmen speaks only Spanish with a smattering of random English. Thus, all conversations are held through Caroline, who speaks in Spanish with Carmen, then translates to me in French.
Somehow we get on the topic of John Kennedy. How, I don't really know, but Carmen (who, by the way has never been the US), goes on a rampage about how the US secretly gives tons of money to the Vatican, and that this is why JFK was assassinated. At which point we jump off into the fun world of discussing religion and politics.
The conversation got RIDICULOUS. For four hours, Carmen (who I take it is a VERY religious person) went on and on about religion in America and how great it is. Of course I couldn't resist the opportunity to steer the discussion toward prayer in schools, gay marriage, "intelligent design" and those weird (not that I'm judging) churches that use rattle snakes in their rituals when they're not writhing around on the floor speaking in tongues. I also enjoyed invoking scenes from the Jesus Camp documentary to illustrate my points, which thankfully Caroline had seen, and we had a good laugh in French about the fact that America will someday be taken over by fundamentalists.
My favorite part of the evening was that Carmen and I could not debate by ourselves, it was necessary to go through Caroline for the translation from Spanish to French and then back again. Caroline was thoroughly amused, and the two of us were rolling on the floor laughing when the conversation kept coming back to the US and our secret ties to the Vatican. Oh yeah, that and the fact that all of the most intelligent people in America are European. And if they don't come directly from Europe (she was saying that we import all of the smart people from Europe because we don't have any of our own), they are at least European descendants. I found myself in a place too ridiculous to even debate, and could only laugh.
So much for L'auberge Espagne. At least this UN-style multilingual debate was more exciting than watching downloaded American TV, but certainly not as stimulating I was hoping for.
I didn't even know what to say about JFK- come to think of it, I didn't really have a counterpoint to Carmen's idea because all that came to mind was conspiracy theory, which doesn't translate really well, or sound very intelligent. Random act of violence? Doesn't quite have the flair of a secret mission by the Vatican to blackmail the US into giving more money. One point for Carmen.
The evening finished off in Caroline's room where the two of us discussed Bush and Sarkozy, and the future of our countries, the war on terror, and the rising costs of food in the middle east. Not a bad way to end a VERY bizarre evening.
Any thoughts on the JFK assassination? I'm prepared to discuss Iraq, September 11th, foreign policy, and the current elections, but I was not on my game for JFK. Will take suggestions for any future debates, feel free to leave comments!
The principle plot in the movie is that this French guy moves to Barcelona for a year as part of the Erasthmus program (the EU student exchange program). Basically, his entire perspective on life changes as a result of his amazing experience. He lives in a cool apartment (ie. the "auberge" which roughly translates to student apartment/hostel) with 4 other foreign students, and spends his days hanging out, "learning Spanish" (the same way I am "learning French"), having adventures with other foreigners, and basically just living the coolest life ever in Barcelona.
Anyway- whatever you do, see this movie. Just be aware that there is a high risk of wanting to pack your bags and run away to Barcelona right away.
Basically, this movie was the foundation on which I built my European Dream. I wanted to live la vie "l'auberge Espagne," eating dinners with my international friends and spending days in cafes and nights in the cool bars, having intelligent and amusing conversation.
Well, tonight, I had what could be described as more of a "L'auberge Twilight Zone" experience. Allow me to set the scene:
I am living with three girls in my apartment, one of whom is French, a second who is never there but is reportedly Senegalese or something, and a third who is Romanian but speaks only Spanish. Not bad, on paper it has the makings for an interesting place to live.
Caroline, the French girl, has the room next to mine and she is very cool. We "talk" often (or rather, she talks to me in rapid French and I nod along/laugh when it seems appropriate and act like I understand) and usually eat together if we are both in the house at night. The Romanian/Spanish girl, Carmen, is gone for days at a time for her work, but is around occasionally, definitely more than the Senegalese girl who I've only seen twice. However, given that I speak no Romanian or Spanish, and she speaks no English or French, our "conversation" involves speaking several languages until one of the words get recognized by the other. Slightly tragic.
Anyway, back to this evening. Somehow the three of us (Caroline, Carmen, and myself) all ended up talking in the kitchen (we have no living room in our apartment and the small kitchen table is the only communal area besides the bathroom). Firstly, I only speak English and French, Caroline speaks French and some Spanish, and Carmen speaks only Spanish with a smattering of random English. Thus, all conversations are held through Caroline, who speaks in Spanish with Carmen, then translates to me in French.
Somehow we get on the topic of John Kennedy. How, I don't really know, but Carmen (who, by the way has never been the US), goes on a rampage about how the US secretly gives tons of money to the Vatican, and that this is why JFK was assassinated. At which point we jump off into the fun world of discussing religion and politics.
The conversation got RIDICULOUS. For four hours, Carmen (who I take it is a VERY religious person) went on and on about religion in America and how great it is. Of course I couldn't resist the opportunity to steer the discussion toward prayer in schools, gay marriage, "intelligent design" and those weird (not that I'm judging) churches that use rattle snakes in their rituals when they're not writhing around on the floor speaking in tongues. I also enjoyed invoking scenes from the Jesus Camp documentary to illustrate my points, which thankfully Caroline had seen, and we had a good laugh in French about the fact that America will someday be taken over by fundamentalists.
My favorite part of the evening was that Carmen and I could not debate by ourselves, it was necessary to go through Caroline for the translation from Spanish to French and then back again. Caroline was thoroughly amused, and the two of us were rolling on the floor laughing when the conversation kept coming back to the US and our secret ties to the Vatican. Oh yeah, that and the fact that all of the most intelligent people in America are European. And if they don't come directly from Europe (she was saying that we import all of the smart people from Europe because we don't have any of our own), they are at least European descendants. I found myself in a place too ridiculous to even debate, and could only laugh.
So much for L'auberge Espagne. At least this UN-style multilingual debate was more exciting than watching downloaded American TV, but certainly not as stimulating I was hoping for.
I didn't even know what to say about JFK- come to think of it, I didn't really have a counterpoint to Carmen's idea because all that came to mind was conspiracy theory, which doesn't translate really well, or sound very intelligent. Random act of violence? Doesn't quite have the flair of a secret mission by the Vatican to blackmail the US into giving more money. One point for Carmen.
The evening finished off in Caroline's room where the two of us discussed Bush and Sarkozy, and the future of our countries, the war on terror, and the rising costs of food in the middle east. Not a bad way to end a VERY bizarre evening.
Any thoughts on the JFK assassination? I'm prepared to discuss Iraq, September 11th, foreign policy, and the current elections, but I was not on my game for JFK. Will take suggestions for any future debates, feel free to leave comments!
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
Quarter life crisis
As usual, I have neglected my blog for months on end. Seriously though, I have a good excuse- no internet. FINALLY, today, months and months after my arrival, I have procured internet chez-moi.
So, that is my excuse. Because somehow, I can't sit down and write my blog unless 1) I am alone in my room and no one is bothering me and 2)I am actually connected to the blogger site (not sure why, but the words just don't seem to flow when I'm writing in Word, I think it makes me feel like I'm writing something for school). It also helps to be wired on sugar and caffeine, which happen to be abundant in my room.
Anyway- here is my massive update. In January I moved to St. Etienne (a former mining town outside of Lyon on the East coast of France, 1.5 hours from Geneva) to play with a new team after months and months of paperwork issues in Montpellier. Basically, I never got my "carte de sejour" saying I was a legal resident in France, so I couldn't play. Also, the club never had an international player so they did not know how to help me navigate the paperwork issues. So, I signed up with a new team, in a higher division, with a bunch of international players and a president who seemed keen to have me and help me get settled.
I arrived in St. Etienne mid-January, and then proceeded to break my foot in three places on the second day of practice. Go me!! Or, as they say in French "trop fort." So, then I am the new girl and the injured girl at the same time. January through March I struggle with my broken foot and getting back on the court. Many of the French girls on the team remain bitchy and French, and do not care to integrate me into their social circle. Finally, I get ready to play and then find out that, as it turns out, the Tunisian girl and I have the same license ("E" classification license for international player) and we can't both play at the same time. Big disappointment. At least the foreign girls are cool, and invite me over to play card games and hang out.
I am rather unamused with the President for omitting this important piece of information, but I guess you live and you learn.
I am now at the point where I am trying to decide what to do with my life, not so much in the long term (I still have a grand vision for my future AFTER handball that seems safe and far away), but for next year. Part of me wants to stay another year in France and see things go more smoothly, another part of me is not sure I can do it again. It has been too hard.
The upside is, now I know the process. Having crashed into just about every single hurdle along the way, I can honestly say that it probably can't be worse. I know what to look for in a team, and what to avoid. I know that a good coach is more important than good weather, and that whatever I do, I better avoid teams with too many "special" licenses that limit playing time. As long as I play in France I will always have an "E" license, and can never play with another "E" license or with too many rookie players ("B" license) or international players. I also know that breaking your foot and having your wallet stolen SUCKS and will try to avoid that in the future.
We'll see. I'm staying open minded for the time being and trying to make it through the end of the season. As frustrating as it has been, I still must have come out with more than I came in; I learned some handball stuff, improved my French, and realized that I am a ridiculously stubborn person who refuses to give up. That being said, I find myself contemplating the fine line between "persistence" and "stupidity."
Anyway- today I had a conversation with my good friend Kathy, who is also living la vie Francaise and playing handball. Like me, she is struggling with her plans for next year. After all of the hardships of this season, it is hard to think of putting ourselves through this again. We were also disappointed to find out that our backup plan- the Air Force- may not be a very good back up plan. Apparently they aren't taking officers into training until 2010 or something. What am I supposed to do for the next year and a half? Get a "real" job? God forbid.
Thus, I have made a self-diagnosis (via Wikipedia) of Quarter-life crisis, or "QLC" as it is commonly known. See the following link for more info: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Quarter_life_crisis
Of these symptoms, I suffer especially from the following:
* feeling "not good enough" because one can't find a job that is at one's academic/intellectual level
* confusion of identity
* insecurity regarding the near future
* insecurity concerning long-term plans, life goals
* insecurity regarding present accomplishments
* boredom with social interactions
* loss of closeness to high school and college friends
* financially-rooted stress
* loneliness
* desire to have children
* a sense that everyone is, somehow, doing better than you
I especially enjoy the last two. Although a child is far from practical or truly desired, I can feel my biological clock ticking and it worries me. Also, somehow, everyone IS doing better than me. Did I mention that I have been out of school for almost four years and I do NOT have a law degree or medical degree? I also do not own any furniture and do most of my shopping (which doesn't include the purchase of meat because chicken is too expensive) at discount food stores like Aldi and Lidl. Some of my friends have houses. I, like all students in France, take advantage of the French welfare system to defray the cost of a 9m2 apartment.
Missing from the QLC list is the following:
* insecurity relating to the fact that 95% of your friends are married or engaged and you are still ignoring text messages from sketchy french rugby players.
* stress related to the fact that next year you will be "over 25" and France will be twice as expensive unless you can find a suitable fake ID that says you are 23.
* lack of ability to communicate freely in French despite living in France almost 8 months and taking French classes.
* sense of impending doom when forced to make phone calls/answer your cell phone.
In summary, I am having a quarter life crisis. What happened to my European dream? Where is my Vespa and my cool European friends who want to spend the day in a cafe with me discussing films and politics? My life is not as "L'auberge Espagne" as I dreamed.
So, here I am, wondering if I should give it another chance...or if I should give up and realize that it is NOT easy to live alone in a foreign country without friends and family (and internet access, that has been the real killer). Do I have to "grow up" and get a "real job" and never ride down the Mediterranean coast on a Vespa to meet my cool international friends at the hottest tapas bar in town? That would be sad...but also mature.
Oh Quarter Life Crisis, what is your solution? I try to self-medicate you with chocolate and alcohol, but you do not go away, you suck my soul and make me feel inadequate. Damn you.
So, that is my excuse. Because somehow, I can't sit down and write my blog unless 1) I am alone in my room and no one is bothering me and 2)I am actually connected to the blogger site (not sure why, but the words just don't seem to flow when I'm writing in Word, I think it makes me feel like I'm writing something for school). It also helps to be wired on sugar and caffeine, which happen to be abundant in my room.
Anyway- here is my massive update. In January I moved to St. Etienne (a former mining town outside of Lyon on the East coast of France, 1.5 hours from Geneva) to play with a new team after months and months of paperwork issues in Montpellier. Basically, I never got my "carte de sejour" saying I was a legal resident in France, so I couldn't play. Also, the club never had an international player so they did not know how to help me navigate the paperwork issues. So, I signed up with a new team, in a higher division, with a bunch of international players and a president who seemed keen to have me and help me get settled.
I arrived in St. Etienne mid-January, and then proceeded to break my foot in three places on the second day of practice. Go me!! Or, as they say in French "trop fort." So, then I am the new girl and the injured girl at the same time. January through March I struggle with my broken foot and getting back on the court. Many of the French girls on the team remain bitchy and French, and do not care to integrate me into their social circle. Finally, I get ready to play and then find out that, as it turns out, the Tunisian girl and I have the same license ("E" classification license for international player) and we can't both play at the same time. Big disappointment. At least the foreign girls are cool, and invite me over to play card games and hang out.
I am rather unamused with the President for omitting this important piece of information, but I guess you live and you learn.
I am now at the point where I am trying to decide what to do with my life, not so much in the long term (I still have a grand vision for my future AFTER handball that seems safe and far away), but for next year. Part of me wants to stay another year in France and see things go more smoothly, another part of me is not sure I can do it again. It has been too hard.
The upside is, now I know the process. Having crashed into just about every single hurdle along the way, I can honestly say that it probably can't be worse. I know what to look for in a team, and what to avoid. I know that a good coach is more important than good weather, and that whatever I do, I better avoid teams with too many "special" licenses that limit playing time. As long as I play in France I will always have an "E" license, and can never play with another "E" license or with too many rookie players ("B" license) or international players. I also know that breaking your foot and having your wallet stolen SUCKS and will try to avoid that in the future.
We'll see. I'm staying open minded for the time being and trying to make it through the end of the season. As frustrating as it has been, I still must have come out with more than I came in; I learned some handball stuff, improved my French, and realized that I am a ridiculously stubborn person who refuses to give up. That being said, I find myself contemplating the fine line between "persistence" and "stupidity."
Anyway- today I had a conversation with my good friend Kathy, who is also living la vie Francaise and playing handball. Like me, she is struggling with her plans for next year. After all of the hardships of this season, it is hard to think of putting ourselves through this again. We were also disappointed to find out that our backup plan- the Air Force- may not be a very good back up plan. Apparently they aren't taking officers into training until 2010 or something. What am I supposed to do for the next year and a half? Get a "real" job? God forbid.
Thus, I have made a self-diagnosis (via Wikipedia) of Quarter-life crisis, or "QLC" as it is commonly known. See the following link for more info: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Quarter_life_crisis
Of these symptoms, I suffer especially from the following:
* feeling "not good enough" because one can't find a job that is at one's academic/intellectual level
* confusion of identity
* insecurity regarding the near future
* insecurity concerning long-term plans, life goals
* insecurity regarding present accomplishments
* boredom with social interactions
* loss of closeness to high school and college friends
* financially-rooted stress
* loneliness
* desire to have children
* a sense that everyone is, somehow, doing better than you
I especially enjoy the last two. Although a child is far from practical or truly desired, I can feel my biological clock ticking and it worries me. Also, somehow, everyone IS doing better than me. Did I mention that I have been out of school for almost four years and I do NOT have a law degree or medical degree? I also do not own any furniture and do most of my shopping (which doesn't include the purchase of meat because chicken is too expensive) at discount food stores like Aldi and Lidl. Some of my friends have houses. I, like all students in France, take advantage of the French welfare system to defray the cost of a 9m2 apartment.
Missing from the QLC list is the following:
* insecurity relating to the fact that 95% of your friends are married or engaged and you are still ignoring text messages from sketchy french rugby players.
* stress related to the fact that next year you will be "over 25" and France will be twice as expensive unless you can find a suitable fake ID that says you are 23.
* lack of ability to communicate freely in French despite living in France almost 8 months and taking French classes.
* sense of impending doom when forced to make phone calls/answer your cell phone.
In summary, I am having a quarter life crisis. What happened to my European dream? Where is my Vespa and my cool European friends who want to spend the day in a cafe with me discussing films and politics? My life is not as "L'auberge Espagne" as I dreamed.
So, here I am, wondering if I should give it another chance...or if I should give up and realize that it is NOT easy to live alone in a foreign country without friends and family (and internet access, that has been the real killer). Do I have to "grow up" and get a "real job" and never ride down the Mediterranean coast on a Vespa to meet my cool international friends at the hottest tapas bar in town? That would be sad...but also mature.
Oh Quarter Life Crisis, what is your solution? I try to self-medicate you with chocolate and alcohol, but you do not go away, you suck my soul and make me feel inadequate. Damn you.
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