Oh, NOW I get it...

Hello, all....

So I've been puzzled since I got back from my utterly kickass London trip about why I'm all low-energy and mopey and inclined to stay inside my apartment. I mean, I clawed and scraped my way out of Chicago, and I nailed shut the open hole of regret that had been pestering me since I didn't go to France in 2001 like I originally planned. I'm living in a beautiful 13th century village in FRANCE, and I have no problems on the scale of the tsunami-hell that enveloped so much of coastal Asia lately. So why be all poopy and down in the dumps?

I mean, honestly, I was living zombie-life from Tuesday to Friday. What's up with that?

So NOW I get it... I've been *lonely*. It's so simple! I went from hanging around with my cousin (who I'm utterly comfortable with) in a land that speaks English (ditto) to being back to my routine in France, which has a good deal of isolation to offer.

To sum up:

England: with cousin, not self-conscious about language, verbal facility at a nice high level
France: with nobody, self-conscious about language, verbal facility cursed like Star Wars movies after Rick McCallum

So in reality I don't do too badly when confronted with French People. It's just that I get so nervous about those encounters. But when I don't shy away, it usually goes very well. Wednesday last, for example, I was invited to a stranger's house to meet their daughter (don't worry, Meredith!) who had just come back from Canada. The people I was supposed to go with weren't at their house at the appointed time, so I thought I had screwed up (of course, I was seven minutes late). So, screwing up my courage, I knocked on the door of the house that the New French lived in.

Well, even though my familiar French weren't there either, I got nicely welcomed and had to make my way socially in what I thought was an awkward position. Here I was, knocking unannounced on the front door of a family I had never met and having to make conversation without the folks I was supposed to be there with. Ugly, huh?

As it turned out, everything went fine. The daughter in question was probably 17 or 18 and we talked for a bit about English in schools, schools in general, and her amazing trips to places like Thailand and Quebec. Admittedly, I thought Thailand was more impressive than Quebec, and I got to see her pictures, which proved me right.

I helped her on her English homework, talked to her parents a bit, and then ate dinner with my (until then absentee) French friends. It turned out to be about six and a half hours of French, French, French and I think I did a fine job of it.

So here are the points of the lecture, then I will give you a bonus set of pictures.
1) England was great because I relaxed and had fun
2) France is hard sometimes because I'm always aware of my shortcomings
3) When I give France a chance, it usually turns out pretty well
4) I am like Ford Prefect

I am like Ford Prefect in the sense that I would very much like a party, with dancing and drinks and people I can relate to (see Life, the Universe, and Everything for more details). So I guess what I'm trying to say is: if I go and live life to the fullest for a couple more months, can I have a gigantic party with all my friends and lots of American beer when I return? Because, honestly, that would really rock. (Sam and Erin, I'm talking about that surprisingly fun night in Chicago writ large) Also, I should be back in time for Star Wars, and let me tell you I am prepared to scream like a little girl when "A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away..." appears. Y'all have been warned.

That's it. I just wanted to share. So here are some more London photographs:
The British Museum has a fantastic new dome roof
Ellen MacArthur's victory lap over the Thames
The moon flanking Parliament
The actual Rosetta Stone
Stonehenge along with spooky-strong sunlight
St. Paul's Cathedral, Part I
St. Paul's Cathedral, Part II

Also, I want the Domo-kun hat from this store like you wouldn't believe. My birthday's on its way, keep in mind.