tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13362285690407247312024-03-12T18:44:13.160-07:00.VIVANTE.La femme françaisehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08272644581639770374noreply@blogger.comBlogger37125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336228569040724731.post-90198988687472034812009-04-27T12:59:00.000-07:002009-04-27T13:01:12.781-07:00incase you were worried...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SfYO_o50QUI/AAAAAAAAAN8/rGkU-KVgvYY/s1600-h/IMG_0341.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SfYO_o50QUI/AAAAAAAAAN8/rGkU-KVgvYY/s400/IMG_0341.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329463695514026306" border="0" /></a>La femme françaisehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08272644581639770374noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336228569040724731.post-45727803926211205062009-04-25T03:04:00.000-07:002009-04-25T03:09:30.707-07:00Is this much cuteness possible?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SfLg5L0jcWI/AAAAAAAAAN0/HLfc07xKTpA/s1600-h/IMG_0275.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SfLg5L0jcWI/AAAAAAAAAN0/HLfc07xKTpA/s400/IMG_0275.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328568582163100002" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SfLg41xD3zI/AAAAAAAAANs/o-a8uP89sbA/s1600-h/IMG_0296.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SfLg41xD3zI/AAAAAAAAANs/o-a8uP89sbA/s400/IMG_0296.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328568576242868018" border="0" /></a><br />Marc's adorable Neice Manon age 5 with his boxer Asterix and The Little Monster Gwen age 3 in the back seat of the car after preschool!La femme françaisehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08272644581639770374noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336228569040724731.post-84362538412815026232009-04-25T03:00:00.000-07:002009-04-25T03:03:46.068-07:00Llyod and Harry!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SfLfj6jW3LI/AAAAAAAAANk/YPmq_QxkDa8/s1600-h/IMG_0170.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SfLfj6jW3LI/AAAAAAAAANk/YPmq_QxkDa8/s400/IMG_0170.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328567117238688946" border="0" /></a><br />I was on the set of Dumb and Dummer in Paris...<br /><br />Excuse me miss, what's the tarte du jour?<br /><br />That's the tart of the day...<br /><br />UM! that sounds good, i'll have that!La femme françaisehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08272644581639770374noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336228569040724731.post-1237553247199184522009-04-19T04:53:00.000-07:002009-04-19T05:03:40.038-07:00T minus 26<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SesS42XR0XI/AAAAAAAAANY/IKMSoKiQ_Tg/s1600-h/IMG_0462.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SesS42XR0XI/AAAAAAAAANY/IKMSoKiQ_Tg/s400/IMG_0462.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326371752170869106" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SesS4j7ZkTI/AAAAAAAAANQ/CpylECErqZg/s1600-h/IMG_0459.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SesS4j7ZkTI/AAAAAAAAANQ/CpylECErqZg/s400/IMG_0459.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326371747222098226" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SesS4H8MPeI/AAAAAAAAANA/hD4SFCxymF8/s1600-h/IMG_0460.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SesS4H8MPeI/AAAAAAAAANA/hD4SFCxymF8/s400/IMG_0460.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326371739709226466" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SesS3z76WwI/AAAAAAAAAM4/29xlIr8wkTo/s1600-h/IMG_0505.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SesS3z76WwI/AAAAAAAAAM4/29xlIr8wkTo/s400/IMG_0505.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326371734339345154" border="0" /></a><br />I must enjoy every moment I have left here, so last night I went out, and for some reason did not go to bed until 5 am. This is me and the man I aspire to be, god, I want his facial hair capabilities. And yes, I wore a baithing suit as a shirt. At the end of the night we ended up at this insanely beautiful extravigantly sized apt... the views from the balcony were amazing, and so was this surfer statue.La femme françaisehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08272644581639770374noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336228569040724731.post-52567550709494090532009-04-19T04:37:00.001-07:002009-04-19T04:51:58.382-07:00Back to life, Back to reality<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SesQRQwSEzI/AAAAAAAAAMw/SzTFSCT8Z6s/s1600-h/IMG_0439.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SesQRQwSEzI/AAAAAAAAAMw/SzTFSCT8Z6s/s400/IMG_0439.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326368873037042482" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SesQQ1jLrEI/AAAAAAAAAMo/074h9BGCmXg/s1600-h/IMG_0443.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SesQQ1jLrEI/AAAAAAAAAMo/074h9BGCmXg/s400/IMG_0443.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326368865734339650" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SesQQvmTAjI/AAAAAAAAAMg/9kXRQYGFTtA/s1600-h/IMG_0444.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SesQQvmTAjI/AAAAAAAAAMg/9kXRQYGFTtA/s400/IMG_0444.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326368864136790578" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SesQQEqLYAI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/XQJtYkZF6R4/s1600-h/IMG_0451.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SesQQEqLYAI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/XQJtYkZF6R4/s400/IMG_0451.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326368852610342914" border="0" /></a><br />After two weeks of traveling I arrived home yesterday and decided to bike to the beach. My ride out there was pleasant, the sun was high and very strong. I found a nice little patch of sand, derobbed and relaxed... for about 20 mins until I saw very scary rain clouds roll in. So, I got back on my bike and hit the trail. My intention was to bike as quickly as possible, however, this guy decided it was his duty to help me pass the time by talking to me and repeatedly asking me out, while i repeatedly said i have to do my home work tonight... yes, it was a Saturday. I think that's worse than if I said I had to wash my hair... I wanted to tell him his slow peddeling was a drag. But instead I was polite and dealt with him for more than an hour.<br /><br />The trail to the beach passes by the biggest horse farm I have ever seen... it streches for more than a mile and has some absolutely beautiful ponies scattered through their fields.La femme françaisehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08272644581639770374noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336228569040724731.post-80362647252987069592009-04-19T04:07:00.000-07:002009-04-19T04:32:21.764-07:00I love Paris in the spring time<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SesKcr0vGBI/AAAAAAAAAMI/xdox-NxPiw4/s1600-h/IMG_0046.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SesKcr0vGBI/AAAAAAAAAMI/xdox-NxPiw4/s400/IMG_0046.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326362472212273170" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SesKcS9-f_I/AAAAAAAAAMA/cH22ABBQ6aM/s1600-h/IMG_0061.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SesKcS9-f_I/AAAAAAAAAMA/cH22ABBQ6aM/s400/IMG_0061.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326362465540145138" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SesKcHquOGI/AAAAAAAAAL4/oBCw8NETXWs/s1600-h/IMG_0052.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SesKcHquOGI/AAAAAAAAAL4/oBCw8NETXWs/s400/IMG_0052.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326362462506596450" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SesKbx9vRCI/AAAAAAAAALw/7UI2VdTuIXQ/s1600-h/IMG_0058.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SesKbx9vRCI/AAAAAAAAALw/7UI2VdTuIXQ/s400/IMG_0058.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326362456680776738" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SesKbk17jmI/AAAAAAAAALo/pyQukaR43ow/s1600-h/IMG_0048.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SesKbk17jmI/AAAAAAAAALo/pyQukaR43ow/s400/IMG_0048.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326362453158366818" border="0" /></a><br />Tyler's first night in Paris we ate at a restaurant overlooking Nautre Dame, where we listened to some nice man playing piano... after we took the boat ride through the city around sunset, it was beautiful, sadly, toward the end both of us had gotten so cold we begged for it to end. I think that is my 5th time taking said boat. Maybe the 6th will be romantic...La femme françaisehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08272644581639770374noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336228569040724731.post-20634457374988438702009-04-19T03:24:00.000-07:002009-04-28T05:45:57.778-07:0018 miles, his parts hated it!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/Ser-oVyWDQI/AAAAAAAAALg/JQs5aqzYOxQ/s1600-h/IMG_0095.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/Ser-oVyWDQI/AAAAAAAAALg/JQs5aqzYOxQ/s400/IMG_0095.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326349478315560194" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/Ser-oASr50I/AAAAAAAAALY/E3jr0kA8D6M/s1600-h/IMG_0103.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/Ser-oASr50I/AAAAAAAAALY/E3jr0kA8D6M/s400/IMG_0103.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326349472545630018" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/Ser-nwSdi3I/AAAAAAAAALQ/vAi-z1Apcys/s1600-h/IMG_0120.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/Ser-nwSdi3I/AAAAAAAAALQ/vAi-z1Apcys/s400/IMG_0120.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326349468249721714" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/Ser-nvWUQ0I/AAAAAAAAALI/OAjxWEY-J88/s1600-h/IMG_0133.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/Ser-nvWUQ0I/AAAAAAAAALI/OAjxWEY-J88/s400/IMG_0133.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326349467997455170" border="0" /></a><br />While Tyler and I were in Paris the weather was overcast and rainy, so when we got to Mtown and there was sun, I knew we had to leap at it. We left our bags at my house, grabbed bikes, and charged towards the beach. Unfortunately for Tyler, it was not a comfortable bike seat experience... the ride to the beach is 12 km...9 miles in each direction. It is a ride that typically takes around an hour and a half. It took us a little extra time on the way there, stopping for groinal relaxation... but when we realized how late it was, after only spending 45 mins at the beach we booked it back and made it home in 50 mins! look at us.La femme françaisehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08272644581639770374noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336228569040724731.post-65465655578908053742009-04-08T01:56:00.000-07:002009-04-08T02:00:38.222-07:00the pitbull meets the pomeranian<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/Sdxnm6s6WpI/AAAAAAAAAKY/4FUxL2izkt0/s1600-h/IMG_0007.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/Sdxnm6s6WpI/AAAAAAAAAKY/4FUxL2izkt0/s400/IMG_0007.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322242777935403666" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/Sdxnm7nLn-I/AAAAAAAAAKQ/PmnUqHdD5c4/s1600-h/IMG_0004.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/Sdxnm7nLn-I/AAAAAAAAAKQ/PmnUqHdD5c4/s400/IMG_0004.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322242778179805154" border="0" /></a><br />So I got a new camera yesterday, thanks mom and dad! And with it there were some tinny little reminders that i do have the world's CUTEST dog ever!<br /><br />his perfect face and his inquisitive nature!La femme françaisehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08272644581639770374noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336228569040724731.post-9415592656057491432009-04-07T06:27:00.000-07:002009-04-07T06:39:56.486-07:00Spring Time in Paris<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SdtXV6Oy6MI/AAAAAAAAAKI/wzFIGOK5ZuE/s1600-h/IMG_0014.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SdtXV6Oy6MI/AAAAAAAAAKI/wzFIGOK5ZuE/s400/IMG_0014.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321943418588555458" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SdtXVodH57I/AAAAAAAAAKA/1330U7ZrRxY/s1600-h/IMG_0018.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SdtXVodH57I/AAAAAAAAAKA/1330U7ZrRxY/s400/IMG_0018.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321943413816813490" border="0" /></a><br />Tyler is sleeping off the plane ride and it just stopped raining, here is the view from our window.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SdtVI8lcx_I/AAAAAAAAAJw/FIhZ3tD-ndo/s1600-h/IMG_0012.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SdtVI8lcx_I/AAAAAAAAAJw/FIhZ3tD-ndo/s400/IMG_0012.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321940996858890226" border="0" /></a>La femme françaisehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08272644581639770374noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336228569040724731.post-56552282175393621292009-04-05T03:31:00.000-07:002009-04-07T05:33:28.793-07:00call me Jérome!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SdiI2SXmuUI/AAAAAAAAAJg/jm00xU1GCbc/s1600-h/n591850114_2712765_1801857.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 297px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SdiI2SXmuUI/AAAAAAAAAJg/jm00xU1GCbc/s400/n591850114_2712765_1801857.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321153425963399490" border="0" /></a><br />Here is my impression of a French Hipster kid, I am with my friend Laurent. I met him because the night before he was wearing a chicago bulls flat brim hat... what's not to like?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SdtIBuKlSMI/AAAAAAAAAJo/310LH-oUqbQ/s1600-h/DSC01432.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SdtIBuKlSMI/AAAAAAAAAJo/310LH-oUqbQ/s400/DSC01432.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321926579077859522" border="0" /></a>La femme françaisehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08272644581639770374noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336228569040724731.post-91082913845107476232009-04-05T03:23:00.000-07:002009-04-05T03:30:52.026-07:00Amendine a 18 ans!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SdiIN66poeI/AAAAAAAAAJY/rP7T0S2tHqs/s1600-h/n591850114_2712766_7862189.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SdiIN66poeI/AAAAAAAAAJY/rP7T0S2tHqs/s400/n591850114_2712766_7862189.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321152732473172450" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SdiIN6zm05I/AAAAAAAAAJQ/dZqoQ1dzU_8/s1600-h/n591850114_2712767_7822610.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SdiIN6zm05I/AAAAAAAAAJQ/dZqoQ1dzU_8/s400/n591850114_2712767_7822610.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321152732443628434" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SdiINRh3IxI/AAAAAAAAAJI/SeC42i3o6-I/s1600-h/n591850114_2712913_4349659.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SdiINRh3IxI/AAAAAAAAAJI/SeC42i3o6-I/s400/n591850114_2712913_4349659.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321152721363346194" border="0" /></a><br />My French sister <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Amendine</span> turned 18 a few weeks back, and had the cutest <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">soirée</span>. It was incredible, these little 17, 18 year <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">olds</span> had a dinner party like adults... No keg, no stupidity, just nice wine and beautifully presented finger foods. Well, it was incredible for several reason... the first being the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">aforementioned</span> well behaved <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">youngsters</span>, the 2<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">nd</span> being that the boys were cuter than anything I have ever seen! Where were they when I was 17? oh right, they were 10! There was one boy <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">in particular</span> that was so adorable and sweet and SMART, after chatting with him and his friends for a bit one kindly asked me how old I was, when I said 24, he replied, unabashedly, OH SHE'S TOO OLD for you! OH MY GOD! I'M OLD! ha ha. In great contrast to how the parties in the states go, the boys danced their booties off all night! Here are a few pictures of them busting a move... also a picture of me and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Benedicte</span>.La femme françaisehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08272644581639770374noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336228569040724731.post-40187275530097697512009-04-05T03:14:00.000-07:002009-04-05T03:22:35.952-07:00DINER du monde!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SdiGTRxm4JI/AAAAAAAAAJA/KtOUPbzKDAA/s1600-h/n1395429748_30128192_6813213.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SdiGTRxm4JI/AAAAAAAAAJA/KtOUPbzKDAA/s400/n1395429748_30128192_6813213.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321150625485349010" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SdiGTaB8lqI/AAAAAAAAAI4/Ji8u8tMA-j0/s1600-h/n1395429748_30128193_4859998.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SdiGTaB8lqI/AAAAAAAAAI4/Ji8u8tMA-j0/s400/n1395429748_30128193_4859998.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321150627701364386" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SdiGSjkaq6I/AAAAAAAAAIw/DZr7rhQ7z38/s1600-h/n1395429748_30128191_5873008.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SdiGSjkaq6I/AAAAAAAAAIw/DZr7rhQ7z38/s400/n1395429748_30128191_5873008.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321150613081992098" border="0" /></a><br />A few weeks ago, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Karoi</span>, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Shova</span>, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Christy</span>, Marc and I got together and made an international dinner... it was amazing! <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Shova</span> made food from India, oh, I forgot to mention she speaks 5 languages, besides being a total babe she is beyond capable! <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Karoi</span> made Japanese cakes for dessert, Marc made the most amazing crepes I have EVER tasted and I made mud pudding, as per request of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Shova</span>... she said another American girl had made it for her in the past. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Incase</span> you don't know what that is, it'<br />s chocolate pudding as the base, crushed <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">oreo's</span> as second layer, too much <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">whipped</span> cream as the top and then those disgusting jelly worms throughout... so it is like mud...<br /><br />well, it was great! before dinner we played french <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">pictionary</span>, REALLY FUNNY! <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">Christy</span> and I totally dominated, there is nothing I take more seriously than <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">board game</span> competition... I blame it on my family... maybe even Tyler... I DIDN'T let you down!<br /><br />Here are a few pictures of the night.La femme françaisehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08272644581639770374noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336228569040724731.post-70410149759848301562009-04-05T02:56:00.000-07:002009-04-05T03:12:42.576-07:00Soirée des filles!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SdiDrIraeSI/AAAAAAAAAIo/pOkG-qQ9PW8/s1600-h/n1395429748_30128128_403683.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SdiDrIraeSI/AAAAAAAAAIo/pOkG-qQ9PW8/s400/n1395429748_30128128_403683.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321147736825428258" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SdiDrGQ-AvI/AAAAAAAAAIg/RMKpSPk2RDE/s1600-h/n591850114_2712928_4461528.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SdiDrGQ-AvI/AAAAAAAAAIg/RMKpSPk2RDE/s400/n591850114_2712928_4461528.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321147736177640178" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SdiDrP0qTNI/AAAAAAAAAIY/VkfWj9J2N64/s1600-h/n591850114_2712927_255828.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SdiDrP0qTNI/AAAAAAAAAIY/VkfWj9J2N64/s400/n591850114_2712927_255828.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321147738743262418" border="0" /></a><br />Last week a group of 6 beautiful girls hit the town; Me, Christy (American), Shova (Nepalese), Karoi (Japanese), Benedicte (Norwegian) and Lucia (Slovakian)... an extremely diverse group and extremly beautiful! It is incredible to converse with girls from all over the world, using french as our uniter. We started our night at SHIVA, a rather expensive but so worth it Indian Restaurant at Place Antigone. First we were given a round of free drinks, we all opted for the Mango sans alcohol beverage. It was so pretty and pink! We went with two coupons, buy one meal get another free... knowing quite well that it was only one coupon per table... our waiter told us that they would make an exception for us because we brought 6 beautiful girls into their restaurant! Oh, isn't life hard?! After dinner some of us head out to Le HUIT, the only bar in Mtown that I acutally enjoy going to... the place is crawling with insanley cute skater boys! Sadly, for the past month I have had no photos of my own, because my camera was stolen, but here are a few I stole from the other girls. Benedicte is the only one missing from these photos, she will appear in my next post.La femme françaisehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08272644581639770374noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336228569040724731.post-42685513749587317632009-03-24T04:13:00.000-07:002009-03-24T04:18:30.856-07:00finally seeing clearly<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/ScjBfdXtHzI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/29qv_uTfoxE/s1600-h/Photo+113.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/ScjBfdXtHzI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/29qv_uTfoxE/s400/Photo+113.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316712106315030322" border="0" /></a><br />So it has been a month or more since i've posted anything new... sincerest apologies. I will over the next few days be posting plenty of photos and the stories that accompanied them. For right now I am heading out to to enjoy the day... and all the wonderful possibilities it has to offer. For now here is a photo of me and my new glasses, yes, they are real rayban's, I have been patiently waiting 24 years for a pair, and i got 'em.La femme françaisehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08272644581639770374noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336228569040724731.post-71071183072395604842009-02-22T01:29:00.000-08:002009-02-22T01:44:32.660-08:00the day of JOUR<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SaEebuAhHZI/AAAAAAAAAH4/ClkAaEKrWpk/s1600-h/DSC01020.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SaEebuAhHZI/AAAAAAAAAH4/ClkAaEKrWpk/s400/DSC01020.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305555297574657426" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SaEebcTM4GI/AAAAAAAAAHw/2E6OW0cWqxE/s1600-h/DSC01000.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SaEebcTM4GI/AAAAAAAAAHw/2E6OW0cWqxE/s400/DSC01000.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305555292821184610" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SaEebGcTBRI/AAAAAAAAAHo/0Pf2Hc6LwjU/s1600-h/DSC01034.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SaEebGcTBRI/AAAAAAAAAHo/0Pf2Hc6LwjU/s400/DSC01034.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305555286953755922" border="0" /></a><br />Yesterday, Claire, my host father's sister (and he said she said you said... no) took me riding. It was amazing. I am so glad I lugged my riding stuff over seas! The day was epic. First we arrive and everyone is drinking tea and eating croissants and chocolate and relaxing. We get our horse assignments and I have "jour" which means "day" in english. There are two rides of the day, the first is a Trail ride, and it was beautiful! We braked for lunch... 2 hours of lunch! I had chocolate cake, chocolate pudding, and dark chocolate bars! (I ate much more than that, but it was heaven, chocolate and horses!) In the afernoon we rode a small cross-country course. We jumped logs, fences and barrels. I felt very comfortable with Jour and may have actually fallen in love! (I still love you Russell) It just reiterated that I can't live without horses. It was only Claire's 4th time riding (her daughter that has been riding for a few years finally convinced her) and she did amazing! I hope to go as often as I can afford!La femme françaisehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08272644581639770374noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336228569040724731.post-83206563941866944302009-02-22T01:18:00.000-08:002009-02-22T01:29:16.488-08:00Emil Nolde<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SaEaZMJCYMI/AAAAAAAAAHg/gNYPn40QmCY/s1600-h/133396_jpg_9331b.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SaEaZMJCYMI/AAAAAAAAAHg/gNYPn40QmCY/s400/133396_jpg_9331b.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305550856077336770" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SaEaZN6w8HI/AAAAAAAAAHY/UorLy89URGQ/s1600-h/300px-Nolde_g.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 282px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SaEaZN6w8HI/AAAAAAAAAHY/UorLy89URGQ/s400/300px-Nolde_g.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305550856554344562" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SaEaZATgwhI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/Ro0R7sPxqzE/s1600-h/733201671_16884fac5c_o.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 326px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SaEaZATgwhI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/Ro0R7sPxqzE/s400/733201671_16884fac5c_o.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305550852900045330" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SaEaY9Em4PI/AAAAAAAAAHI/qAiIWdd4kNk/s1600-h/Emil%2BNolde%2BGreen%2BLandscape%2Bwith%2BRed%2BCloud.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 284px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SaEaY9Em4PI/AAAAAAAAAHI/qAiIWdd4kNk/s400/Emil%2BNolde%2BGreen%2BLandscape%2Bwith%2BRed%2BCloud.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305550852032225522" border="0" /></a><br />Last Thursday I went to Musée Fabre to see the Emil Nolde exhibit. I am typically an avid museum hater,<br />but after seeing advertisements for his work I counted the days until it would be open. A little background information on Emil. He was born in Germany in 1887 as Emil Hansen (and would late change his name to leave behind his farmer family name). He was a supporter of the early Nazi party, but his artwork would later be banned and burned my Hitler. He died in 1956 after being given an award of honor by the German government.<br /><br />I have mixed feelings of his as a person... but his artwork covers every spectrum. Going from one room to the next I couldn't believe all the works had been done by one individual. Here is a small example. My two favorite works by him could not be found on the Internet, Sadly.La femme françaisehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08272644581639770374noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336228569040724731.post-82456994465319035602009-02-16T00:08:00.000-08:002009-02-16T00:24:58.919-08:00Weekend in BED! uh... Weekend in AIX!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SZkixQQiuwI/AAAAAAAAAG4/iyFYeT5xS5M/s1600-h/DSC00967.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SZkixQQiuwI/AAAAAAAAAG4/iyFYeT5xS5M/s400/DSC00967.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303308265778756354" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SZkixFzB5xI/AAAAAAAAAGw/JF3ok20AfPc/s1600-h/DSC00972.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SZkixFzB5xI/AAAAAAAAAGw/JF3ok20AfPc/s400/DSC00972.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303308262970615570" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SZkixNUnuaI/AAAAAAAAAGo/QmXStScnBqI/s1600-h/DSC00973.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SZkixNUnuaI/AAAAAAAAAGo/QmXStScnBqI/s400/DSC00973.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303308264990554530" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SZkiw9_I97I/AAAAAAAAAGg/YR0LfK2wRQQ/s1600-h/DSC00975.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SZkiw9_I97I/AAAAAAAAAGg/YR0LfK2wRQQ/s400/DSC00975.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303308260873926578" border="0" /></a><br />This weekend I visited G in Aix, we had plans to go to the beach, go to his mother's, take a tour... and instead, I didn't get out of bed at all! I was like a little princess, I ate every meal in bed and I finally saw every installment of Back to the Future! Friday night G had to work and I went with him. The venue he books had a show... now, let me say, that if you thought Metal was questionable in English, wait until you see it in French. OH MY, all these guys are going around kissing eachother hello and then screaming the language of love, AMAZING, YES! So I eventually made my way to "back stage" with a balnket and slept off the show. Saturday I got out of bed at 6pm, G had to go back to the venue for a few hours, and I said, like little suzzie homemaker... ok, i will make dinner. Well, funny story... I was so hungry while waiting I first ate half a block of cheese, proceeded to just about burn his house down (cause i didn't realize there was a cover on the hot plate--note the gigantic burn in the photo) and then did NOT have dinner on the table when he got back. Sunday I stayed in bed again until 6pm, just enough time to finally shower, run to get what G calls an "emotion cookie"-soooo good it gives you emotions (it was amazing!) and make it to my train. Here are the pictures of the weekend. I have included a picutre of G inwhich I say he has only 1 thing on his brain--CHOCOLATE!La femme françaisehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08272644581639770374noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336228569040724731.post-73263291094798285852009-02-08T01:52:00.000-08:002009-02-16T00:08:50.361-08:00First SupperLast night was my first night at Chez Christine and Didi. Dinner every night will be promptly at 8pm. Friday started the 2 week spring break for actual French students, so both the "kids" 18 (Amendine ... totally butchered the spelling of her name) and 19 (Simon) were out of the house, so dinner was just me with "mom" and "dad." It was great. An amzing and simple veggie meal with great brown rice!! We sat at the table for over two hours--Didi is hysterically funny. And then dessert was fruit. I had a pear... which I ate with a knife... however did I eat a pear before last night... how prehistoric to eat with your hands and mouth only. After dinner I gladly retired to my room for the evening and watched Real World Brooklyn... until 3 am. eeek. I just knew I was too sick to try to navigate getting to a Bar.<br />The weather looks nice out today, although this window eveluation can be desceptive. I think I hear wind. More to come later...La femme françaisehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08272644581639770374noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336228569040724731.post-89051209165089855422009-02-07T06:58:00.000-08:002009-02-07T07:09:02.359-08:00NEW ROOM! more sun!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SY2jjycfQ8I/AAAAAAAAAGQ/N06vvAh3yFg/s1600-h/DSC00933.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SY2jjycfQ8I/AAAAAAAAAGQ/N06vvAh3yFg/s400/DSC00933.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300072171716953026" border="0" /></a>So, it has occurred to me that I am 24! eeek! i have been living out of my parents house for 6 years and I just needed some more space, independence, liberty... so today I switched houses. Now I have my own house entrance, sink in my room, and a nice big desk. Here are the pictures of my new room. I have only been here for a few hours, I did some running around this morning, bought a 12 à 25 card so I can now buy train tickets for extreemly cheap and unpacked. I will detail the new "family" when I get to know them.La femme françaisehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08272644581639770374noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336228569040724731.post-11834976465587603412009-02-07T06:13:00.000-08:002009-02-07T06:52:33.792-08:00what you want to do... i don't know, what do you want to do? GRÈVE!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SY2gFO4XqZI/AAAAAAAAAGA/pnTwrGhOeqA/s1600-h/DSC00796.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SY2gFO4XqZI/AAAAAAAAAGA/pnTwrGhOeqA/s400/DSC00796.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300068348239260050" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SY2gE4C-iOI/AAAAAAAAAF4/LKuSiFU0OaQ/s1600-h/DSC00789.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SY2gE4C-iOI/AAAAAAAAAF4/LKuSiFU0OaQ/s400/DSC00789.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300068342109735138" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SY2gCR4H5YI/AAAAAAAAAFw/oWu6Hn6_7U4/s1600-h/DSC00792.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SY2gCR4H5YI/AAAAAAAAAFw/oWu6Hn6_7U4/s400/DSC00792.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300068297503925634" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SY2gCG9EwCI/AAAAAAAAAFo/qwp2Q4jhn1I/s1600-h/DSC00800.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SY2gCG9EwCI/AAAAAAAAAFo/qwp2Q4jhn1I/s400/DSC00800.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300068294571900962" border="0" /></a><br />OK, so there is nothing the french like more than a good STRIKE! there have been 2 already in the past week and a half. Where EVERYTHING shuts down. There were police everywhere... all doing NOTHING. So I decided to take some photos of that too. (note... it appears to be a family event... )La femme françaisehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08272644581639770374noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336228569040724731.post-57091387426450203172009-02-07T06:02:00.000-08:002009-02-07T06:11:52.828-08:00Here comes the SUN!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SY2Wdf064pI/AAAAAAAAAFA/gP9J_galDQ4/s1600-h/DSC00806.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SY2Wdf064pI/AAAAAAAAAFA/gP9J_galDQ4/s400/DSC00806.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300057769988776594" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SY2WdHbS5gI/AAAAAAAAAE4/CuzDiGCaNh4/s1600-h/DSC00815.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SY2WdHbS5gI/AAAAAAAAAE4/CuzDiGCaNh4/s400/DSC00815.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300057763438847490" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SY2Wc4Dur5I/AAAAAAAAAEw/c1h2LtfMN3E/s1600-h/DSC00816.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SY2Wc4Dur5I/AAAAAAAAAEw/c1h2LtfMN3E/s400/DSC00816.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300057759313473426" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SY2WchucVmI/AAAAAAAAAEo/EdruAvD5GXo/s1600-h/DSC00807.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SY2WchucVmI/AAAAAAAAAEo/EdruAvD5GXo/s400/DSC00807.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300057753318610530" border="0" /></a><br />after all the rain there was finally a break with some SUN. So Christy, Elizabeth and I decided to rent some bikes and ride to the beach! Getting the bikes was the longest, craziest, most ridiculous ordeal ever! It took us over 2 hours to finally get it together, and once we started riding we discovered we did not know the route to the beach (which is 6 miles each way!) and it seemed rather dangerous to continue on the way we were going so our plans changed and we rode back into town and we navigated the little side streets and manger-ed some fromage and baguettes! Here is a picture of what I would consider my new favorite cheese and them some sights we saw.La femme françaisehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08272644581639770374noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336228569040724731.post-35057171190594840842009-02-07T05:46:00.000-08:002009-02-07T06:56:23.893-08:00tut tut, it looks like rain.it has been a long time since i've been able to write... and much has happened since.. For instance, I moved homes today! I will get to that in a bit, but for now, here is an update on things that happened in between dates.<br /><br />It has been raining here non stop!! I mean non-stop rain! One day when it was raining sheets of painfully cold and mean rain I took the bus after class back to my house... The bus stopped at a street corner and proceeded not to move for a few minutes. I thought nothing of it until other people on the bus started getting pissed off... well, it turns out that a car had gotten stuck in the pools of water and could not move. It was on a very narrow street that is only wide enough for one vehicle, and it's actually a two way street, that traffic lights control... so, with this car stuck in the middle, both sides of traffic were stuck. Perhaps if it was nice out I would have been upset that I was stuck on the bus... or rather I would have walked. But I was glad to have the dry shelter, despite the fact that i was completely soaked through. So eventually, People got off the bus and moved the car. Here is a photo of that!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SY2TeHsAh7I/AAAAAAAAAEg/KA6U6mvIFFI/s1600-h/DSC00905.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SY2TeHsAh7I/AAAAAAAAAEg/KA6U6mvIFFI/s400/DSC00905.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300054482153932722" border="0" /></a>La femme françaisehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08272644581639770374noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336228569040724731.post-7221750851168514842009-01-26T05:48:00.000-08:002009-01-26T06:08:01.215-08:00ma nouvelle maisonFriday, a day of insane rain mom and I ran around Paris for our last 3 hours together before she took her taxi to the airport and I took my train ride back south. When I finally made it back to Montpellier I had an amazing meal and then convinced my new family to have a "family workout session." Complete with downward facing dog, sun salutations and weights! Also... the family has a mini-pooper... dog.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SX3C9aPDoQI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/Am2s9P60Gno/s1600-h/DSC00772.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SX3C9aPDoQI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/Am2s9P60Gno/s400/DSC00772.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295603097127854338" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SX3C9vtTOQI/AAAAAAAAAEY/GIi9i9k4O2M/s1600-h/DSC00776.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SX3C9vtTOQI/AAAAAAAAAEY/GIi9i9k4O2M/s400/DSC00776.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295603102891849986" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SX3C9DL1v6I/AAAAAAAAAEI/Blvtlz6R9wY/s1600-h/DSC00662.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SX3C9DL1v6I/AAAAAAAAAEI/Blvtlz6R9wY/s400/DSC00662.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295603090940346274" border="0" /></a>La femme françaisehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08272644581639770374noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336228569040724731.post-2366834512996629542009-01-26T05:05:00.000-08:002009-01-26T05:48:11.711-08:00MEN!This past week I spent Tuesday through Friday in Paris with my mom for her last few days in France. It was a nice change of pace after a few really hectic and emotional days in Montpellier... Wednesday was our tour of Montmartre, three hours of winding our way up streets to Sacre Coeur and then winding back down. On our way up we stopped at a shoe store, ever in search for the perfect boots... I have yet to find! The wonderfully heinous woman inside said "Au Revoir Madame" when mom decided she didn't want the boots she tried on. Mom proceeded to take her time as I panicked and begged her to hurry out of the store, I had picked up a pair of earrings only to have one break instantly! We crossed the street and to our wondering eyes... what did we see!?!?! YES! MEN, GLORIOUS MEN! After all, it is the red light district!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SX24hhiP3xI/AAAAAAAAADg/fX-JitSojX8/s1600-h/DSC00666.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SX24hhiP3xI/AAAAAAAAADg/fX-JitSojX8/s400/DSC00666.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295591622934781714" border="0" /></a><br /><br />After an insane fit of giggles and a lot of photos and zoomming in, we recomposed ourselves into ladies and continued to follow our map. Like always we searched for the Eiffel Tower, and there it was, with one simple side step over... We finally made it up to Sacre Coeur, it was beautiful! From the top of the hill the view was stunning. I found it so interesting that against a dark and gloomy sky two smoke stacks stood out above the rest.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SX28H6MLQdI/AAAAAAAAADw/PWybuMv1-dk/s1600-h/DSC00680.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SX28H6MLQdI/AAAAAAAAADw/PWybuMv1-dk/s400/DSC00680.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295595580923003346" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SX29HEchwFI/AAAAAAAAAD4/wB-8XkTF7ms/s1600-h/DSC00729.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SX29HEchwFI/AAAAAAAAAD4/wB-8XkTF7ms/s400/DSC00729.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295596666007699538" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SX29eqIo0bI/AAAAAAAAAEA/ef-I8KOhEfI/s1600-h/DSC00722.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__FRoFJW7mLE/SX29eqIo0bI/AAAAAAAAAEA/ef-I8KOhEfI/s400/DSC00722.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295597071261815218" border="0" /></a>La femme françaisehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08272644581639770374noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336228569040724731.post-47069003187322379742009-01-16T14:43:00.000-08:002009-01-16T15:15:25.149-08:00DINNER! Confussions! and Les petits cadeaux!Tomorrow we leave for Bordeaux, where we will spend the weekend with Autumn. Mom and I thought it best to move my things into my new room tonight so that way when we return on Sunday I will be all set. We had a wonderful and semi-leisurely dinner at the hotel before packing our things to go to my nouvelle maison. The dinner was amazing, as was the menu it self. It was one of the coolest designs ever! It also included English translations of all the meals right under every line. Now I prefer to have only French. But this menu proved to be the night's entertainment, with such great sayings as "crispy of apple" and "coffee and sweetie desserts". Mom loved it so much she took a picture. Après le diner, we packed as quickly (as slowly as we could... ha ha grampy) ok, but really, we packed as quickly as we could... and still arived to Véro's an hour behind schedule... but of course! We went down to the front desk and called a taxi while we waited and chated. We then realized it was important to know if we could use a credit card to pay the taxi or not. The nice woman at the desk then called the taxi company yet again to check, and phew... we could infact use a credit card. Ok, great, we were on our way. We arrived quickly to our destination, only to find out, that NO! you can not use foreign credit cards. MAIS MESIEUR, we do not have any money!!!! MERDE! yes, SHIT! what ever shall we do? I quickly called Elizabeth and she ran out with some money. EEEk, a grand catastrophe was avoided. So we say thank you to the taxi driver as we hand him a bundle of bills and coins and breathe a sigh of relief. First we head into Mami's house where we all relax for some tea and coffee. When the dog Natie, who is this little sausage of a thing, very old and sausagy, laid on my legs so happily, and began to lick me... strange, but YUCK what a smell did come from such a little thing. Like dead dyingly dead sausagey scents. Oh, and then what to our wondering eyes did we see... it was the left overs of that entrails mom did see in the train station in Paris. <br /><br />No... ok, not really. (back to the story)<br /><br />But really, it was by far the worst of all dead scents ever to be smelled! IT FOLLOWED ME ALL THE WAY HOME! The stockings I was wearing, called, they said, they want their stink free life back. Or that they wish to be burned for the benift of Mr. Kite. <br /><br />Ok, after drinks and stink we headed across the st to Véro's for me to unpack. When I was finished I gave my gifts to everyone, and I was so happy to see all of their reactions. Firstly I gave Adam (who's 14) a Yankee's cap, and he was sooo happy, he jumped up and gave me a kiss instantly. Then gave Adeline her bag and shirt (cexy) and she seemed happy, although she is much more shy than Adam. We gave Véro her sweater, jewelry, and jewelry bag (the last two made by women in Guadaloupe). It was so wonderful to see how they appreciated everything and how happy Adam was about his new American hat.<br /><br />We made it back to the hotel, in great spirits and ready to do our nightly ritual... ORDER ROOM SERVICE... but sadly, the stink did delay us so much that we could no longer get our crumble aux fruits rouges et du thé, the kitchen was closed!! Ooooh, NO! So now we are sitting in bed, and we must be up in 6 short hours to get dressed and pressed and ready to go for our little weekend get-away. So it must end here, Bonne Nuit, Mes Amis!<br /><br />xo.La femme françaisehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08272644581639770374noreply@blogger.com2