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Now that it is past the middle of November and I haven't had a real post since October, I figured it was time to update this thing. What's going on in France? How's the concussion? Shit like that. This may be long.

As far as events go, I went to Normandie two weekends ago and ended up with a concussion that I sort of wrote about in my last post. I smacked my head into a sign, because French signs are at head level and I'm prone to that sort of thing. So I bumbled around Omaha beach and Point du Hoc with my world spinning and ready to vomit. Otherwise, the American cemetery and museum before that were pain free. I was sick for days after that and am just now starting to feel normal again.

Continuing with events, this last weekend was our final, already paid for excursion. There's one more but I would have to salvage 60 euros that I could have spent on things in Dublin or London during the Christmas break. On a side note, after Christmas, I will be going to Dublin, Ireland; Holyhead, Wales; London, UK; and finally Paris with my Japanese roommate. But back on topic about my last excursion, we went to the troglodyte caves, had a wine tasting, and ate in a cave restaurant. It was neat. The only downside was that I am not used to drinking alcohol and after a total of maybe a glass and a half of wine I was feeling a little groggy and ended up feeling sick the next day.

This week I had an exposé (presentation) in my Langue class. I worked so hard on this nice PowerPoint and I had planned out everything that I was going to say only to forget nearly everything I wanted to say and stumble all over the place. Just as I was thinking that my concussion was better I ended up with a horrible headache, my bumped spot throbbing and I almost had to leave to throw up. Though, I imagine that was a combination of concussion and embarrassment/anxiety. I seriously felt awful for almost the rest of the day until my professor pulled me aside after my second Langue class. She told me that I lack an American accent and that even though my presentation went a little long and I stumbled a lot she said I did well. I was so surprised and I am still feeling high off of the small esteem-boost.

Other than school and excursions, I've been stressing myself out regarding next semester. As most know, the program that I am in while in Angers is too expensive for me to afford for the spring. So I applied to another program in Grenoble, which is located in the south of France and is next to the Alps. It was a very difficult choice for me because I've grown very attached to my host parents and Angers, but there is no way I can manage 6000 more dollars for AHA (my program) as much as I wish I could. I've been very stressed over the whole situation, especially after I applied to Grenoble and realized that I applied for the more expensive program and after taking a billion years to apply to the program I wonder if they will accept me or not. I even thought about returning to Fairbanks for the spring semester, even though I'd be jumping in two weeks late.

One hurdle for me is making it to my brother's graduation. When I initially applied for Angers, I knew that it wouldn't end until June and I figure with whatever money I had saved up after my construction job I would buy a brief ticket to see his graduation and then come back. I greatly underestimated how hard it was to pay the 16,000 dollars that I had to for this fall semester. I was barely able to do that and after going through all of the stress that I had to, I just can't do that again, especially when I know that I do not have the money this time.

Luckily, now, my main worry is getting accepted into the Grenoble program. If I don't, it's back to UAF for me in February. I'm honestly not that worried about it after how easy it was to tell them that I applied to the wrong program. The person was very nice (not like one can really tell over email, but I like to think that was the case) and helpful. So I changed that up and if I am accepted into the Grenoble program I will be back in Alaska April 27. That's only about seven months in France, but it will be better than returning after just four months. Everyone I have ever talked to that has gone abroad for only one semester always say that they wish they had stayed a few more months for language learning reasons.

Now that I've gotten events out of the way, I suppose the next thing on the list is feelings (for lack of a better term). Since I've been in France, I've become a lot more observant of myself and others. At first it was overwhelming, my brain taking in so much new information that it was on overdrive. It is still like that occasionally, which is probably why I have mini-breakdowns with myself. By mini-breakdowns I do not mean crying, because I have obscure ideas about crying. I mean that I hate the world for a short time and despise everything about everyone. I've had times where I've had the urge to cry, but then i tell myself to stop being a pansy/pussy and the need to cry fades pretty fast. Works every time.

I hate crying. For the record, just because I call myself a pansy/pussy when I'm about to cry does not mean that I think other people are like that. I do not hold others to the standards that I hold myself to. I detest crying (when I cry, specifically). Why? I don't know. I would rather cause psychological damage by holding all of my emotions in until I implode than cry too often. I used to have a record of crying only once per year, but when I was fifteen/sixteen I cried all of the time. After a while I got back on my normal train until this last year where I cried a lot more than normal. It's been a few months, not as many as I'd like, but I can pinpoint the reasons. In the past year and a half I've had my aunt, two of my great-grandmothers (one of which I had special memories with - the first time I went down to the lower 48 states I stayed with her) passed on along with a few old family friends. Also, I ended up having issues with getting my birth control so was taking birth control at odd intervals, fucking up my hormones. Finally, my parents' divorce was subconsciously getting to me more than I would have liked. Actually, scratch that, finally goes to the fact that I had so much paperwork to do for going abroad. I lied! Finally, for realz this time, I was trying to figure out why I have chronic pain in my hip/lower back/pelvis/whatever. Either way, just like everyone else at some point in life, I had a lot of shit going on and like any other normal person under lots of pressure I kind of snapped last November and December and had a mental breakdown. It's been a year since then and I am feeling a lot better ... well, relatively. I am having a lot of stress here because it's a new environment and blah blah new country blah blah other things blah blah blah. Oh, I don't count tearing up for a movie or other media or crying from laughing as 'crying'. I mean, of course it's crying, but it is in a different category than a heart-breaking sob fest where your nose is so stuffed you go through a whole box of tissues.

Anyway, onto my next topic, since I've come to France I feel as though I've had a lot more epiphanies than normal.  While in Normandie, I ended up thinking a lot about death (makes sense, yeah?), a topic that I've always found complicated. I've always known that subconsciously I have some kind of deal going on regarding the idea of death. Throughout my whole life I have had terrifying nightmares, even when I was really little and didn't watch horror movies. They always involved death, illnesses, the end of the world ... death-related things. Deep down I believe that I will never die and for a long time I would say it jokingly until I realized that I actually believed it.

Death haunts me. I always ignored my counselors when they said that I need to come to terms with the idea, but mostly because a lot of my counselors said other stupid things like that I harbor intense hatred  towards people in general and that's why I have a legit phobia of spiders. Yeah. Okay. But I think that at Normandie it really hit me. It was no longer this idea that I pushed to the back of my brain while telling myself, "I'm not scared of death, I will never die. I am different. People I love won't die." Death became too real for a moment and I finally came to terms that I am so terrified of death. Not only that, but I have an obsession with it. So many things that I enjoy have the subject of death or something similar. It attracts me and I don't know why. Sometimes I fear death on a daily basis, but then I read stories that involve death and the afterlife. One of the main things I find interest in while researching folklore are the monsters that are undead. There are times I just sit in fear that I will die and just rot in the earth without there being an afterlife. I think about all of the things I would give to live forever. It doesn't matter which religion I am currently believing in, I always think about it. This is sudden, but I have decided to stop talking about this subject because it is depressing me out. Either way, that is what Normandie made me think about. And more.

 On a lighter note ... my final note of the day ... it's always very difficult for me to answer the question, "How do you like France?" or something like that. I have had such a broad experience here that pinpointing one part of it feels like I'm lying to myself. It's like trying to sum up how the past month and a half have been. Or how Alaska is like when I'm living there. What's it like living in Alaska? I kind of dislike that question too. Maybe it's because I have a love/hate relationship with everything. I don't know. It's always hard for me to answer either way.

Until next time!