"You can never go home again."
Last night I hung out with Vianney. We made a sort of sautéed beef at his and Benjamin's place, with figs and red bell peppers and lots of garlic. It sounded a little strange at first, and then it turned out to be awesome. And we mashed some potatoes with these weird white sweet potatoes he'd found at the Eurasia market. Which, by coincidence, I had also visited the day before.
After dinner we met up with Vianney's friend Halforth at the Charles Dickens. Halforth is from Iceland but went to school in Stillwater starting about 6th grade, and went on to graduate from OSU before he moved to France to learn French. It was weird to meet someone who was Oklahoman in such a random way. I refrained from slandering the Cowboys. That's how novel it was.
Xavier met us there, and it was nice to get to see him again, since it was looking doubtful. Benjamin wasn't around, since he'd gotten his driver's license earlier that day and was busy driving around his hometown with his friends. I'm holding out hope that I'll see him sometime today.
I woke up at 7 a.m. and immediately felt kind of nauseous. (This is where my brother thinks I should have said "nauseated".) On two and a half hours of sleep, I figured today wouldn't go so well, so I struggled back to sleep. I woke up again at 10, to the combined ringing of my cell phone alarm and the bells at the cathedral ringing for Sunday mass. That was pretty, at least. I'll miss hearing the bells.
I packed a little. I took down all the letters and pictures that people have sent me this year. The map of Oklahoma, my chest x-ray from the office of immigration. My room is uber white again, which is depressing because it reflects the orange bedspread all over the room. I am so tired of orange.
My landlady came by and gave the place a cursory glance. Her husband messed around with the kitchen sink which now completely refuses to drain. She recommends we do our dishes in the bathroom 'cause she can't get her "plumber" (yeah, remember that post?) out here until next week. Well, at least it's only my problem for about 16 hours.
I'm sort of packing, but dragging my feet. It's a cool, rainy day. There's no one in the street because it's also Sunday. My last desolate French Sunday for a long time, I think.
Going home is going to be an adventure at this point. While packing the contents of my desk I came across $21 in ones and fives that I'd stored away since my arrival here. The one dollar bills seem really odd, since the smallest euro denomination is 5. I was also weirded out that all the bills are the same size (poor blind people) and basically the same color.
Even minus the reverse culture shock that I'm sure is going to come, there have been lots of changes at home. My family have all moved houses, and many of my friends have either graduated from college or gone to college for the first time, so there's not going to be such a concentration of kids home to Tulsa for the summer. It's going to be nice to find out what's been going on in everyone's lives. There's only so much communication that takes place over the Internet. I miss being in the same room with people.
But then, that kind of requires me to leave all the people I love here, too. I'll be back. Sometime.
After dinner we met up with Vianney's friend Halforth at the Charles Dickens. Halforth is from Iceland but went to school in Stillwater starting about 6th grade, and went on to graduate from OSU before he moved to France to learn French. It was weird to meet someone who was Oklahoman in such a random way. I refrained from slandering the Cowboys. That's how novel it was.
Xavier met us there, and it was nice to get to see him again, since it was looking doubtful. Benjamin wasn't around, since he'd gotten his driver's license earlier that day and was busy driving around his hometown with his friends. I'm holding out hope that I'll see him sometime today.
I woke up at 7 a.m. and immediately felt kind of nauseous. (This is where my brother thinks I should have said "nauseated".) On two and a half hours of sleep, I figured today wouldn't go so well, so I struggled back to sleep. I woke up again at 10, to the combined ringing of my cell phone alarm and the bells at the cathedral ringing for Sunday mass. That was pretty, at least. I'll miss hearing the bells.
I packed a little. I took down all the letters and pictures that people have sent me this year. The map of Oklahoma, my chest x-ray from the office of immigration. My room is uber white again, which is depressing because it reflects the orange bedspread all over the room. I am so tired of orange.
My landlady came by and gave the place a cursory glance. Her husband messed around with the kitchen sink which now completely refuses to drain. She recommends we do our dishes in the bathroom 'cause she can't get her "plumber" (yeah, remember that post?) out here until next week. Well, at least it's only my problem for about 16 hours.
I'm sort of packing, but dragging my feet. It's a cool, rainy day. There's no one in the street because it's also Sunday. My last desolate French Sunday for a long time, I think.
Going home is going to be an adventure at this point. While packing the contents of my desk I came across $21 in ones and fives that I'd stored away since my arrival here. The one dollar bills seem really odd, since the smallest euro denomination is 5. I was also weirded out that all the bills are the same size (poor blind people) and basically the same color.
Even minus the reverse culture shock that I'm sure is going to come, there have been lots of changes at home. My family have all moved houses, and many of my friends have either graduated from college or gone to college for the first time, so there's not going to be such a concentration of kids home to Tulsa for the summer. It's going to be nice to find out what's been going on in everyone's lives. There's only so much communication that takes place over the Internet. I miss being in the same room with people.
But then, that kind of requires me to leave all the people I love here, too. I'll be back. Sometime.
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