tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30194380950293852922011-11-28T01:48:41.681+01:00also known as teaching English in FranceButterBallnoreply@blogger.comBlogger731100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3019438095029385292.post-76487194706855289442009-12-18T16:51:00.002+01:002009-12-18T16:58:35.794+01:00

On Monday I am returning to Canada. Yay!!! All I have to do is get through the grueling journey and I will be in the home of takeaway coffee, public washrooms and refrigerated milk.My journey isn't grueling in the way, say, it was in 1867 when you had to ride a horse to the train station, take a train to the coast, take a ferry across the English Channel and then take 2 week boat journey across

ButterBallnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3019438095029385292.post-48621748769342730912009-12-18T16:47:00.003+01:002009-12-18T16:50:51.404+01:00

In 1999 Toronto called in the Canadian army to shovel snow. I put on some gloves and went to school.In 2009, it snowed overnight in the Loire Valley. It resembled a mild case of dandruff. By 3 pm it had melted entirely. All school transport was immediately cancelled, firemen were on high alert and trucks refused to drive uphill.Culture shock event #112.

ButterBallnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3019438095029385292.post-86827518001900175532009-12-15T13:50:00.003+01:002009-12-15T14:41:00.677+01:00

French women have a colour palette that they stick too. Gd forbid they diverge and add a splash of yellow or pink.They prefer to stick to 1. Grey2. Black3. Brown4.  What I refer to as "kaka brown"Kaka brown is not a deep rich brown, but a brown with a hint of burgandy. It's awful, but the French can't get enough.They will wear a shiny, quilted coat in this colour over cordouroy pants in this

ButterBallnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3019438095029385292.post-9534493941193639552009-12-15T13:10:00.002+01:002009-12-15T13:50:14.755+01:00

Today's post is a comparison between the time I spent in Leuven (2007-2008) to my time in Sablé.Obviously they are different since I was studying abroad in Leuven and I'm working here, but they are both small towns in neighbouring countries in Europe.LanguageSablé: I am actually trying to learn French here and knew a tiny bit before I came.  But no one here speaks English except for the English

ButterBallnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3019438095029385292.post-17158978388813835362009-12-12T13:45:00.003+01:002009-12-12T14:20:50.019+01:00

Today I missed my train to Nantes where I was planning to shop and hang out with another assistant. Now I have to sit here and blog because there is nothing else to do.I have serious temporal problems. Problems with time. Problems with being on time. And this problem has cost me big time in regards to money and missed oppourtunity. I think it should be my birthday resolution to fix this chronic

ButterBallnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3019438095029385292.post-38444584689835737872009-12-08T22:24:00.007+01:002009-12-09T14:05:16.598+01:00

I have big breasts. Fact.It is impossible to find good bras in Canada that cost less than 80$. Sometimes in the states I can find a bra at Victoria Secret that is my size, but the quality is pretty crap there. Undergarments are no doubt the most important part of any outfit as soon as you are a C, which, I think I surpassed sometime in 6th grade. So I will spend whatever it costs, because if I

ButterBallnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3019438095029385292.post-68871786833629898582009-12-04T15:34:00.008+01:002009-12-04T15:58:41.504+01:00

Blogging is getting VERY ADDICTING. I have to remind myself not to do it everyday so you guys don't get sick of me or thing I have no life. Just so you know, I do have a life (although its true I do have a lot of spare time here) but also I want to be a journalist (I think... we'll see) so I consider blogging to be a productive hobby!Anyways so I turned 22 yesterday! Wahoo! I had some major

ButterBallnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3019438095029385292.post-25928161409745058162009-12-01T18:17:00.002+01:002009-12-01T18:38:05.823+01:00

I forgot to include several interesting pieces of information about the Le Mans foyer that I may be moving into. As we learned from my last post, that also means that I may not move in.This is because they aren't sure that they have rooms. Apparently it will take them until next Monday to figure out if they have a room available.Perhaps if they started work before 5 pm they would already know

ButterBallnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3019438095029385292.post-65045459460892044642009-12-01T14:31:00.002+01:002009-12-04T16:14:40.079+01:00

Swiss vote to ban minarets a warning to Europes MuslimsEuropeans are crayyyyyyyyyzeeeeeeeeeeeee.I know it is a stereotype that American's are racists, but if you look at government policy I think that Europe is way more racist. Europe, par example, has never come close to voting in a black president.Okay I am going to make this easy. Everything I say about the Swiss can be said about the French

ButterBallnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3019438095029385292.post-38987970470079290412009-12-01T01:50:00.004+01:002009-12-01T01:59:53.261+01:00

So this post, which I just found about 20 min ago is a blog written by a guy who pretty much believes the opposite of everything I do. Well, not the opposite, for sake of accuracy, but he certainly has different beliefs. I had to agree with him mostly on this post though, except I do think he goes heavy on feminists and academia (especially in some of his other posts, holy shit)This is not

ButterBallnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3019438095029385292.post-4258116901613204332009-12-01T00:12:00.004+01:002009-12-01T02:03:21.628+01:00

The foyer that I viewed in Anger was way nicer than the one in Le Mans. Wayyyy nicer and cleaner with bigger rooms and *gasp* wifi in the rooms. But, as discussed in a previous post, I had a horrible day in Anger and that is a bad omen.In addition, however, that foyer was for females only. The only fun single-sex dorms exist in porn movies.Okay..TRUTH...the REAL reason is that it was freakin

ButterBallnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3019438095029385292.post-38501712530047651432009-11-30T23:57:00.004+01:002009-12-01T02:04:04.060+01:00

I went to Le Mans today to go foyer hunting.In case I haven't explained what a foyer is, it is basically a dorm for young workers.In fact, that is exactly what it is.It even comes with a meal plan and shared showers.This day went way better than the disasterous one in Anger. I bought a new umbrella to replace the one I smashed against the steel pole, but it didn't even rain that much.There was a

ButterBallnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3019438095029385292.post-53928610225270942332009-11-28T02:39:00.002+01:002009-11-28T02:52:03.247+01:00

British roommate has escaped to Nantes to visit his grandmother so Me and the Spanish roommate went to the local bar tonight.It's actually a nice place. There are darts and pool tables and young French people.Pretty exciting for Sable. After I did the usual round of cheek kisses which took about 2 min (2 min of cheek kisses is a lot. I feel really awkward doing it. When there are 5 people, for

ButterBallnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3019438095029385292.post-40823122987666509632009-11-28T02:33:00.003+01:002009-11-28T02:39:24.694+01:00

Me and my Spanish roommate were watching Lost in Translation tonight after we got home from the local bar (!) and I found this great interview by Bill Murray. I'm not being maudlin, swear, I just like the quote."It’s not just being awake in the middle of the night and being anonymous. It’s being awake in the middle of the night with yourself. Without your support, without your buffers, as we call

ButterBallnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3019438095029385292.post-9228587641501451932009-11-27T19:37:00.003+01:002009-11-27T20:03:58.706+01:00

There was a surprise today in the grocery store. I saw cheddar cheese for the first time since coming to France! Granted, it wasn't real cheddar cheese, but it was processed and pre-sliced.How North American!No rind, no smell, just good 'ol sterile cheese full of chemicals. Sometimes, ya just need a cheese that melts. Brie is all well and good, but nothing beats cheddar for a good grilled cheese

ButterBallnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3019438095029385292.post-49892800317535775712009-11-27T03:04:00.005+01:002009-11-27T20:04:28.608+01:00

I "taught" about Christmas today.I've noticed that I mostly complain on this blog instead of actually describing what I am in in France to do.But it's my blog so I can write what I want.(but please keep reading! and commenting! lurve comments! they make me feel less lonely and depressed)So I got a bunch of pictures about winter and Christmas in Canada. And Channukah and Kwanza obviously. I'm

ButterBallnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3019438095029385292.post-46539384178341485112009-11-23T19:13:00.002+01:002009-11-23T19:49:35.416+01:00

I went to Anger to Foyer hunt today.I planned to take the 11:30 train, but I ended up sleeping until 11:30 and taking the 1:00. Then the station informed me that there was a train strike today.Luckily, I had looked up the word for strike last week because there is a teachers strike this week, as well. I only had to wait 15 min though, so I guess it is some sort of partial strike, or something.I

ButterBallnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3019438095029385292.post-78403993523598431712009-11-22T16:20:00.003+01:002009-11-22T16:45:02.436+01:00

I sat down today with a glass of sparkling rose wine and a piece of chocolate cake to make the process of going through my finances easier.And I discovered why I'm in around -70 euro in debt on my French bank account and why I'm around 450 in debt on my Canadian bank card.Two nouns.London. Paris.I spent waaaaaaayyyyyyy more money then I had planned to.The biggest purchases on that trip was all

ButterBallnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3019438095029385292.post-80201765306524916152009-11-21T18:30:00.004+01:002009-11-22T16:45:21.771+01:00

Seriously we do. I'm not tall, blonde, thin or a fictional character, but I feel an affinity towards Betty anyways.We are both bored and lonely.I write this as I nurse some sparkling rose wine. Alone. In my room. On my bed. In an old black cardigan and skinny Top Shop jeans. With unwashed hair and only Max Factor mascara and Nars Orgasm blush. At least Betty always puts some effort it. I admire

ButterBallnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3019438095029385292.post-21873221930244290322009-11-20T17:50:00.002+01:002009-11-22T16:45:46.301+01:00

How well do you know world's great cities? - thestar.comThe survey found that 77.4 per cent of Canadians got all 10 right; third-best in the world. Italians scored the highest (they probably got Rome correct) at 79.9 per cent, followed by the U.S. at 79.8 per cent. Australians have a reputation for travelling a lot but they scored only 61.8 per cent – worst of any country surveyed. Aussie, Aussie

ButterBallnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3019438095029385292.post-66109262610402838542009-11-20T09:36:00.003+01:002009-11-22T16:45:55.822+01:00

So my sleep-in the other day came back to bite me in the ass.Today I woke up bright and early at 7:30, after only getting 3 or 4 hours of sleep. I got dressed, re-straightened my hair, had coffee, cornflakes; the whole 9 yards.And when I got to room 414 B, it was locked, no one was there and my next 2 classes are apparently canceled.I completely forget if the teacher told me that last week, but

ButterBallnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3019438095029385292.post-86064362655883907112009-11-19T14:56:00.003+01:002009-11-22T16:46:06.075+01:00

On Tuesday I slept in. Again.I only work 4 days a week and I only have to make 8:30 class every other week since I have an alternation schedule. I'm naturally a night person and often go to bed at 2, 3 or 4 which makes waking up at 7:30 really difficult.So when my alarm went off on Tuesday I kinda just stared at it debating if I should get out of bed.DevilThe teacher probably doesn't even

ButterBallnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3019438095029385292.post-26376123976654407702009-11-19T14:39:00.004+01:002009-11-22T16:46:23.550+01:00

At the orientation yesterday I was struck by how vibrant Le Mans is. I'm sure it only seems that way because I have been stuck in Sable for so long, but still. I think I want to move there.First of all, there are young people in Le Mans.Young people that I now have met, thanks to orientation.Second of all, there is shopping. HM, Zara, Sephora. When there are stores, it is easy to spend an

ButterBallnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3019438095029385292.post-10488694698983689312009-11-19T14:19:00.004+01:002009-11-22T16:46:54.880+01:00

Yesterday was a second orientation in Le Mans.Me and BR (British Roommate) woke up at 7 to be there for 9. Lo and behold there were young people! Speaking English! It was wonderful. I was so shocked and overjoyed by hearing my own language spoken by people my age I babbled incessently.Not the best way to make new friends, but I was overwhelmed, I couldn't control myself!There were a lot of cool

ButterBallnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3019438095029385292.post-39164397530795557112009-11-17T11:45:00.006+01:002009-11-17T13:43:07.014+01:00

Saturday was SR (Spanish Roommates) birthday, yay! And on Sunday when I was lazing around in my LuLulemons (of course my makeup and hair were done though, my mother trained me well-you never know who's coming over) when our door buzzed. BZZZZZZ.And in walked our new French 17 year old friends bearing an apple pie with magic candles.I'm sorry, let me repeat that.In walked 17 year old boys,

ButterBallnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3019438095029385292.post-64976101824465015532009-11-17T11:34:00.003+01:002009-11-22T16:47:30.796+01:00

Me and my roommate finally made some friends! On Saturday night we get a buzz. I thought it was the drying machine, but BR (British Roommate) opened the door to a young French girl. She invited us to have pizza with her and her friends the student dorm across "campus". (Not that I understood what she said, BR translated)About a month ago the same girl plus a guy had knocked on our door and

ButterBallnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3019438095029385292.post-80383100881556872722009-11-14T14:54:00.004+01:002009-11-22T16:47:06.938+01:00

The 16 euro scale I picked up at Carrfeour informs me that I have lost a whole 1.2 lbs since being in France, (on a good day 2 lbs!) so I am going to keep consuming butter. I just toss it in and on everything now! Pasta, croissants, whatever! I guess the French really do have something going on, since I have been eating whatever I want, including several spoonfuls of Nutella each night (yes, on

ButterBallnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3019438095029385292.post-17526488908526630252009-11-14T14:41:00.003+01:002009-11-22T16:48:11.492+01:00

After discovering the rock climbing gym, I went to the centre of town in the Place de la Republique, turned right into a dark alley way, walked through a parking lot and found the town's not-so-mythical gym!!A real gym! It is tiny, and it wouldn't be out of place in an 1980s Jane Fonda workout video, but you take what you can get.A plus: There were TWO age-suitable-good-looking men working out

ButterBallnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3019438095029385292.post-65557270856101826462009-11-14T14:27:00.003+01:002009-11-22T16:47:57.813+01:00

I went searching for this mythical gym that I keep hearing about, and my Spanish roommate told me that there was a small gym at school as well. So I find it beside the basketball courts and find a bunch of students playing volleyball, but no weight or cardio room. Then I see a door and push it open. That is where I discovered that the school has a rock climbing room!A bunch of little kids are

ButterBallnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3019438095029385292.post-74514362213607229082009-11-12T01:20:00.003+01:002009-11-12T01:30:27.935+01:00

Ok, thats a lie because I don't have any ice cream.But after researching budgets and money tips, I took a major leap and froze my credit card.Literally.Put my visa in a sandwich baggie, filled it with water and stuck it in the freezer.I feel like the girl in Shop-o-holic (book not movie)Does anyone remember when she sealed her credit card in her powder compact and then kept having to buy new

ButterBallnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3019438095029385292.post-39824552690437391232009-11-11T18:43:00.004+01:002009-11-22T16:47:45.122+01:00

I'm writing this as my my leek-carrot-potato soup is simmering.I just took out 50 euros from the bank and the receipt said that I was NEGATIVE 14 euros. Fun! How I got to this dire state will be explained in the next post, after I check out my account online and figure out where I spend my money.So I have a feeling I will be cooking this soup quite a bit this month.i literally looked around the

ButterBallnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3019438095029385292.post-66236162318065343602009-11-10T19:11:00.003+01:002009-11-22T16:50:00.383+01:00

I have facebook!!!6 weeks, several phone calls and visits later (okay my roommate made the phone calls and visits) we finally have facebook!and INTERNET.INTERNEEEEEEEEEEEET.That means I can watch tv! Talk to my friends! Update this blog! Read the Newspapers! Date online! (JOKKKES, gosh, as if) Watch porn! (that's more for my male roommates), Book train tickets! Wikipedia everything that pops into

ButterBallnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3019438095029385292.post-63011531792155092172009-11-07T17:51:00.010+01:002009-11-22T16:48:24.599+01:00

So I went to Paris for a day, due to me booking the Eurostar too late for me to catch a train back to my hometown. See what I did on that one, fateful day: (okay it wasn't fateful at all, I mostly just shopped)C'est Moi in front of the river Siene. The picture doesn't really show how pretty it was. It was actually raining, and my feet hurt and I was cold and worried about my hair curling, but you

ButterBallnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3019438095029385292.post-55347758738988761882009-11-07T17:25:00.009+01:002009-11-22T16:48:38.951+01:00

This is me on Halloween. I won't tell you what my costume is, you will have to guess. I think it is hilarious, but I am easy to amuse. I realize now that those stripes are not doing me any favours though. I am standing beside a ubiquitous (did I use that word right?) telephone booth. Its adorable. I don't even know why people in London have cell phones, they should just make calls from these all

ButterBallnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3019438095029385292.post-52696167505499370852009-11-06T10:29:00.002+01:002009-11-06T10:31:50.453+01:00

Whoops, I totally slept in through my 830 class today! Very unprofessional! I woke up at 915 and was too late to go to my next class as well.Those shutters are killing me, without light I won't be able to wake up.To my credit, I am sick and my body needed to rest, but still that better not happen again, I'm going to buy a big alarm clock this weekend since I have just been using my phone and it

ButterBallnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3019438095029385292.post-9926461933854078952009-11-05T19:11:00.004+01:002009-11-22T16:50:14.267+01:00

Okay so I had a great time in London and Paris, but I want to tell you everything that went wrong in this post to get it out of the way and then I will tell you about all the fun stuff I did.1. Blew My BudgetSo much for my budget. At first I was really good about food, but by the middle of the week I was eating out one meal a day, plus snacks sometimes. I need to take my own advice. I just have

ButterBallnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3019438095029385292.post-28080636837255765372009-11-05T18:59:00.002+01:002009-11-05T19:00:27.445+01:00

I thought it would be fun to compare a day in the life of...ME. The first day is last year in November and the second one is this year in November.My old days in school used to go something like this:Wed In Canada7:30: Wake up (Mon, Wed, Fri, other days at like 11)7:40: Eat Breakfast7:43: Get dressed, do hair, assesorize, etc8:15: Go to bustop8:35: Late for class8:45: Leave classes to buy a

ButterBallnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3019438095029385292.post-43256003078004181592009-11-05T18:35:00.004+01:002009-11-22T16:49:17.213+01:00

But its okay! I found a website that told me how to ENJOY life cheaply. This kills 2 birds with one stone, since a lot of the tips seem good to relieve boredom as well. I will try to make this the last "I'm poor" post, but I'm sure a lot of you are poor too so we are in this together! This is the first year that my parents haven't given me any money to live, so I am living almost completely off

ButterBallnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3019438095029385292.post-68472438795074914632009-11-05T17:59:00.003+01:002009-11-22T16:48:49.333+01:00

So I blew all my money on vacation (will describe it in many later posts) and have no money left to buy groceries.I looked at the meager offerings in my fridge, leftover from a week ago, and invented the Poor Person's Pasta!1 Cup of PastaHalf of red onion2 cloves of garlic1 TBS of olive oilTomato paste from a tubeButterSwiss CheeseBasilI sauteed the onions and garlic and then squeezed out some

ButterBallnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3019438095029385292.post-21514633952420946982009-10-26T23:43:00.003+01:002009-11-22T16:49:03.535+01:00

I AM SO FUCKING BORED!!When I get back from London I am going on a major search to not be bored.I am going to try to take a French class in Anger or Le Mans. I am also going to try to make some friends. How? I have no idea. If you see a short girl who is creeping you say hi, because it might be me!There is a really helpful forum for assistants: so I will post sad, lonely messages on it and hope

ButterBallnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3019438095029385292.post-17567481016525645552009-10-26T20:40:00.001+01:002009-11-22T16:49:46.225+01:00

Contrary to Backpacker belief, I am a fan of the train, which is what I will be taking when I go to London.Firstly, the train is MUCH friendlier on the environment. Truly, flying ruins the planet. Eurostar even automatically carbon neutralizes your trip.Secondly, the train can be more expensive, but only marginally so once all other factors are added in. If you want a cheap flight the airport is

ButterBallnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3019438095029385292.post-81472697075252259482009-10-26T19:03:00.001+01:002009-11-22T16:49:30.122+01:00

I get asked a lot how I afford to travel, since I don't work full-time, so I have decided to share a secret: I budget travel. Semi-hardcore budget travel. People, being soft and flaky, don't usually understand this concept. So I will explain it. SleepingMost Hardcore: Camping/sleeping in train stations or airportsYou should do this if you are only staying in a place for one night or are catching

ButterBallnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3019438095029385292.post-1834479859752551302009-10-26T18:28:00.000+01:002009-10-26T20:54:53.974+01:00

This is definitely the biggest myth I have encountered since coming to France. French women are NOT chic. At all. They do not have glowing skin or perfectly arranged scarfs.I think they could really use some foundation and highlights actually. Its true that they look less sloppy then the average Canadian but nothing really special. They all just look very low-key. I will report more when I come

ButterBallnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3019438095029385292.post-85138860132755101592009-10-26T17:36:00.002+01:002009-10-26T22:06:31.668+01:00

Wahoo! I'm going to London tomorrow since it is midterm holidays and there is nothing to do in my town. I'm staying with Jane and Kat (thankyouverymuch!) who are from Toronto but working and studying in London respectively. London is one of my favourite cities in Europe, probably THE favourite. I am a major anglophile. I love British history, British food (okay not really), pubs, shopping,

ButterBallnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3019438095029385292.post-29964061004171817962009-10-26T17:23:00.001+01:002009-10-26T22:05:21.285+01:00

The French debit card is called A Carte Bleue, or a Blue Card in my world. This Blue Card apparently goes into overdraft, as I can spend money without having money in my account and it is definitely not a credit card, even though it says Visa on the card. It's kind of a hybrid I guess. I don't really understand it. All I know is that I can finally spend money that I don't have again- like a

ButterBallnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3019438095029385292.post-30175415570820474652009-10-26T17:15:00.001+01:002009-10-27T10:27:41.210+01:00

French people are obsessed with butter. It's not a stereotype. Its true.I have never had butter before coming here. Butter is the enemy. It is fattening and dairy and will clog your arteries and make you a size 16. I like my toast dry anyways and I cook in a bit olive oil or rarely PAM spray or low-fat, trans-fat free margarine.Yet, the French consume butter like there is no tomorrow and they are

ButterBallnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3019438095029385292.post-9118915734439864092009-10-26T17:03:00.000+01:002009-10-26T17:15:33.857+01:00

On Saturday a young English teacher offered to take me to Le Mans to change my money and check out the city. She also said that we would first have lunch at her house, in a small village between Sablé and Le Mans.It is 30 min between Sablé and Le Mans and I think there are like, a dozen small villages. The French really have a different gauge for distances. They also think that it is possible

ButterBallnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3019438095029385292.post-79540124923010389532009-10-23T19:25:00.000+02:002009-10-23T19:27:50.098+02:00

Today I managed-entirely in French- to argue with the guy at Mcdonald's! He wanted to charge me an extra 2$ for a salad, when clearly it should only have been .20 cents. It took 10 min but I finally got him to lower the price. And he said that it was his fault!Slam dunk bitches.1 step closer to putting Bilingual on the resume.

ButterBallnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3019438095029385292.post-58650328573577400332009-10-23T19:18:00.000+02:002009-10-23T19:25:48.038+02:00

Yay so they finally turned on the heat AND the English Teacher gave me an electric radiator so my heating problem is solved. As well, we got our washing machine fixed so I can now have clean clothes for the first time in 3 weeks! I have been hand-washing my clothes up till now and thanking g-d that cotton items are in, because you cant really hand-wash jeans. Hence I have been sticking to

ButterBallnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3019438095029385292.post-3831648382471919712009-10-22T11:18:00.000+02:002009-10-22T11:22:06.648+02:00

On Tuesday there was a teachers party in the lounge for all the birthdays in Sept and Oct. It was kinda a pot luck affair where teachers brought their own dish. Since this is France, no one brought chips and dips. Instead there were mini quiches, cheese and grapes and thin crust feta and tomato pizza, and sparkling white wine. Yes. You read right. Sparkling white wine. At 11:30 am. At school.

ButterBallnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3019438095029385292.post-75090584880444195012009-10-22T11:10:00.000+02:002009-10-22T11:18:37.882+02:00

Okay so yesterday one of my favourite classes was canceled, but that turned out not to matter since they were all at the bar that I went to! All the BST students, which as far as I can gather are vocational students 18+ had some sort of party at a bar last night. My Spanish roommate knew about it so we decided since we were bored as hell we might as well attend. There were probably like 50-75

ButterBallnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3019438095029385292.post-21976649732112728032009-10-21T13:24:00.000+02:002009-10-21T13:29:04.478+02:00

I have mentioned this before, but in France there are no substitute teachers. Lucky children; it means that they just get a free period when a teacher is sick for up to 3 weeeks!It also means that I am not necessary :( This happened today with one of my favourite classes, full of 21 year old boys who were learning how to interview for jobs in English ( not that they will ever use it though).Sucks

ButterBallnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3019438095029385292.post-76797689232061190252009-10-19T20:43:00.000+02:002009-10-19T20:48:24.515+02:00

This weekend the roomies and I went to stay with the Brit Roommates grandmother. She lives in Nantes, a city about an hour away, and is pretty damn adorable. The ticket from Sablé to Nantes is 20Euro return with my 12-25 reduction card, which I think is pretty steep for an hour’s ride. For some reason my cell didn’t work when I texted the Brit, so me and Spanish roomate kind of showed up

ButterBallnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3019438095029385292.post-4305645618759996402009-10-19T20:15:00.001+02:002009-10-19T20:42:12.637+02:00

Whew, I am liking the alliteration in the title!Here are a bunch of pictures from my town in Sablé, so when you think of me (if you know me, otherwise its kinda creepy) you can think about me wandering in the park, or looking out at the boats in the harbour, or walking around with a baguette sticking out of my purse or doing any number of romantic French activities.

ButterBallnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3019438095029385292.post-79985157920761082792009-10-19T14:24:00.000+02:002009-10-19T14:32:41.087+02:00

Ok, its official. There is NO WHERE to change money within a 50 km radius.No where. Zip. Zap. Zero.In Anger they told me to go to the Post Office, as did all the banks in Sablé, as well as the smaller post office. So off I set for the Big Post Office in town. Where they informed me that they could not change money.Alrighty. Whatever. I will just starve. (okay I won't because I still have 15 Euro

ButterBallnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3019438095029385292.post-50163932606202636772009-10-17T17:57:00.001+02:002009-10-17T18:06:50.980+02:00

Its COLD in France. I wake up every day and my nose is cold and red like that reindeer. My hands are chapped. I need to wear a sweatshirt to bed. I shiver. I complain. I don't understand because I am Canadian and went to school in Ottawa where it is negative 40 celcius and it appears that I can't handle a mere 3 degrees. I think it is because Canada, being the New World, has a valuable luxury I

ButterBallnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3019438095029385292.post-11021044611687739122009-10-17T17:33:00.001+02:002009-10-17T17:39:34.326+02:00

As I was teaching a class last week the attendance monitor came in to pick up the attendance sheet. I said "Hello" and the teacher said that he refuses to speak English. All of a sudden I hear Boker TovAnd my head whips around, but by then he's gone.Thinking I was imagining things I asked the teacher if he just spoke Hebrew. She said he did!Why on earth does an attendance monitor in the tiny

ButterBallnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3019438095029385292.post-82902839827675063682009-10-12T21:58:00.000+02:002009-10-12T22:10:05.161+02:00

So said the entirely male class of 19-22 year olds. Guess my age! I told themThe first guy said 19, and the rest said 25 or 26. I guess I should start buying La Prarie eye cream...Um yea...I'm 21.And the entire class erupted in twitters. "Elle" "Vente Et Un!" Classes in Lycee-or French high school, are really weird and segregated. I haven't figured out the whole system, but I know that you can

ButterBallnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3019438095029385292.post-27325097058122667092009-10-12T20:18:00.001+02:002009-10-12T20:26:38.545+02:00

That is what the note said that was slipped underneath my door last week. "Ne Pas Prend Douche, but baths are okay" Why?I assume it is because we have a mold issue and we shouldn't get the walls wet so they can fix them properly but they didn't tell us that.Just 'Don't Shower." Alrighty then.We got this on a Thursday and there is no way the French would ever work on a weekend (Friday is included

ButterBallnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3019438095029385292.post-20019274401615458022009-10-12T20:06:00.001+02:002009-10-12T20:14:31.076+02:00

That's right. It is impossible. Not even possible if I were Tom Cruise.First I went to the bank in Sablé, a logical first place I think.The bank told me to go to the post office. The post office told me to go to another post office.At which point I decided it might be easier to just go to Anger, a bigger town about 25 min away. I have Mondays off, and I wanted to see the town anyways and I was

ButterBallnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3019438095029385292.post-65035662281250911172009-10-12T19:59:00.000+02:002009-10-12T22:14:12.391+02:00

Here I sit in the promised land.It takes about an hour to walk here from my house, but as I had aboso-fukin-lutley nothing to do last night, it being a Sunday, I decided to make the journey. When I entered it was like a jug of cold water had been splashed on my face. There were people. Cell phones ringing, cash registers banging, and best of all, a giant sign that said " WIFI: GRATUIT ET

ButterBallnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3019438095029385292.post-20713567292448553952009-10-06T21:49:00.001+02:002009-10-06T21:57:05.360+02:00

Obviously I missed my 7:13 train and waited at the station for 2 hours until the next one. Upon reaching Nantes, I wanted to die.I had been up since 6am, and it was 10, so I ordered a "Grand cafe" at Paul's. It was, maybe, 6 ounces. Smaller then a Starbucks short. Did you even know that there was a short? That's right, its so small that its not even on the menu.Apparently, that is an extra large

ButterBallnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3019438095029385292.post-62266134623808640612009-10-06T21:48:00.001+02:002009-10-06T21:49:23.612+02:00

I was so desperate for English this weekend that I started watching What about Bob. That’s right. A 90s comedy found in the appt.With the English roommate off to his grans for the weekend and no INTERNET and no books it is a prety desperate situation. I don’t think my French is even getting better because of it, im just getting more flustered. And possibly slightly insane. So thanks Bob, for

ButterBallnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3019438095029385292.post-34972141164022646762009-10-06T21:46:00.000+02:002009-10-06T21:48:09.384+02:00

I walked to a random market today with my Spanish roomate and saw a bunch of French people. They were ugllly. No makeup, no botox, no fashion. It was really depressing. No colour either. All the women over 30 had no shape and really short hair. It was really awful. Whatever happened to the elegant French women? Why can’t these women put on a little blush and a smile? The men weren’t fat, but

ButterBallnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3019438095029385292.post-75285470524259673862009-10-06T21:45:00.000+02:002009-10-06T21:46:26.308+02:00

That’s right. I am officially a bourgousie. Today I had lunch in a tiny village in the Loire countryside. An English Teacher, who has been extremely helpful, invited me for Saturday lunch. Since I had nothing else to do, and since French lunches are so much part of the culture, I accepted. She picked me up from my appt. in the school and drove the 7 km or so. Then she pressed the button to open

ButterBallnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3019438095029385292.post-67256218195830523252009-10-01T00:40:00.000+02:002009-10-01T01:05:44.204+02:00

So I am in bed in France now writing this! It is 12:41 pm in France and 6:41 pm in Toronto. I have no idea at all what time it is. I was so disoriented today, I would see a store or a building and wonder why it was in front of me. I basically have blackout periods. Except I didn't have a fun night with facebook pictures.Did I mention how retarded I am? I told the English Teacher I would meet her

ButterBallnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3019438095029385292.post-73123672540264396152009-10-01T00:37:00.000+02:002009-10-01T00:40:33.446+02:00

If I thought yesterday was packing drama…I had to pay an extra TWO HUNDRED AND FIFTY-FIVE DOLLARS for baggage. My entire flight was only 239. Every extra kilogram you have you pay 15$. So for ever 2.2 lbs, it will cost you FIFTEEN DOLLARS. I had 40.1 kilograms. I’m 21. I have flown before. Many, Many times before. When you fly international, you are always allowed 2 pieces of baggage with a

ButterBallnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3019438095029385292.post-19966502402052548872009-09-27T23:21:00.001+02:002009-09-27T23:29:36.402+02:00

Countdown: 2 daysWell, with the new season of The City starting next week, drama is in the air.I haven't packed yet. Alright...so last night at 2 am I had a minor anxiety attack and started frantically throwing dresses into my suitcase.But I only have one suitcase...and a lot of clothes..ugh. My mom promised me that we had 2 suitcases in the house but of course we only have ONE. And one is

ButterBallnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3019438095029385292.post-10169272363207307962009-09-27T23:09:00.000+02:002009-09-27T23:20:59.845+02:00

Wahoo! I officially have a visa STAMPED in my passport! I e-mailed the e-mail they gave me on thursday afternoon, and they e-mailed me back an hour later giving me a date on Monday. I was unavailable Monday so I asked for it to be on Friday. So they gave me an appt. for 9:15 am. I wake up at noon every day, on a good day 11, how was I supposed to get up for 9:15?To make it better, I had promised

ButterBallnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3019438095029385292.post-32692247159564981782009-09-16T20:39:00.000+02:002009-09-16T21:05:52.305+02:00

So to go to France for longer than 3 months, one needs a visa.To get a French visa you need to make a 15 min appt. on the consulate website. You can only get an appt on this website. You cannot call. If you call, you will incur the wrath of the French consulate and run the risk of being shot down with croissants and smothered in Brie. In fact, there is not even a number to inquire about visas.

ButterBallnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3019438095029385292.post-33820880329916765262009-09-06T09:51:00.000+02:002009-09-06T09:57:34.927+02:00

C'est moi!I am getting really ambivalent about going to France. Maybe because it is 3:52 am, but WHAT THE FUCK AM I THINKING??Concern #1I am sick of introducing myself. Do you know how many times I had to do this in Belgium? How many different ways can I say "Hello, My name is Danielle, I am Canadian I studied philosophy, I don't speak French and I enjoy reading and yoga. No, I am not bilingual

ButterBallnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3019438095029385292.post-64915110949956569342009-09-05T07:03:00.000+02:002009-09-05T07:06:08.494+02:00

I finally bought a plane ticket! In the middle of work I took some personal time to check out a few websites and found a cheap one-way flight at the end of September to Paris for only 239$ on the Air Transit website.So I guess this is really happening then..

ButterBallnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3019438095029385292.post-20565431022052660002009-09-02T01:17:00.001+02:002009-09-16T21:07:38.816+02:00

Welcome to my Blog! To begin, I'll start off with a bunch of FAQs that people have been asking me all summer.1) What kind of program are you going on?I applied for a teaching post through the French government to teach in a French High school for 7 months. 2) Do you speak French?No. 3) Don't you think that is a problem?Yes.4) Did you have to speak French to apply?Yes.5) So how did you fake it?

ButterBallnoreply@blogger.com3