Secret Shame

Ok, I admit it. I saw Twilight . . . and loved it. Yes, this angst-ridden vampire drama is definitely aimed at a teen audience, but that was what made it such a glorious treat after weeks of studying, writing papers and sufferring through exams. Even though I laughed through the entire thing, a part of me can't wait for the sequel.

My favorite part was when they were describing his vampire skills. The camera would cut to a close-up of the word "fast" on a computer screen and then show the vampire, Edward, running really fast, and then it would show "strong" and he'd lift something over his head. NOTHING was left to the imagination, and every point was made about five times to make sure you didn't miss it.

The next best aspect of the film was the dialogue, incredibly basic with a 4th grade vocabulary. However, it worked for the film. As much as I would love to think that I quoted Proust in my high school years with the ease of a Gossip Girl prima donna, I know better. It was perhaps better that the characters of Twilight were a bit on the quiet side (their sentences averaged at about 3 words per sentence, less if you factor in the meaningful stares as communication); any depiction of real high school banter would have been far less interesting.

My only regret about seeing it is that the author, who apparently has no imagination for dialogue and doesn't understand the concept of subtlety, will become fabulously rich from this whole endeavor.

Good news!

My speakers are working again on my laptop!

Ok, as exciting as that is, it's not my most exciting piece of information to share. I had my interview Wednesday evening by telephone, and I was offered an interview on the spot (on the line?) with the World Food Prize Foundation in Des Moines. I'm very excited!

With tests and papers I don't have much to write these days, and I can't even post pictures as I lost my camera before break. I hope to get back into the groove in February.

January . . . yuck

The holidays are over and my least favorite month is here. Oh January, could there be a worse month? To make it worse, my semester did not end before winter break, so I only have tests, papers, and cold, rainy days to look forward to until spring. At least I have my memories from winter break to keep me warm.

I went home for two weeks, and what a wonderful two weeks it was. Mom taught me a few knew stitches, and I knitted up a storm. The family and I spent a lot of time playing games, putting together puzzles, cooking, watching movies and relaxing. Rachel and I busted out the instruments a few times for a jam session (don't really think it can be applied to classical music. . . perhaps it was a clam session). Mom even joined us with her cello one day.

As for gatherings, I celebrated with the Cramers the day I arrived. In all of my jet lagged glory, I managed to pull it together and enjoy the day. Christmas day was spent with the Heads. We debunked tradition and celebrated with a salad theme. I needed a salad since my absence had stripped me of all defenses when faced with my mom's wonderful cooking. Even with the salad, I believe I managed to put on 5 pounds in two weeks. Ohh carmel corn, you will be the death of me. Christmas eve, Rachel and I spent the evening with our parents and Mom made her traditional clam chowder. To top it all off, we had a beautiful white Christmas. Snow in the country is just so much prettier than snow in Paris.

I saw a few friends while back in town. My friend from Guthrie Center, Mandi, and I spent an evening with our moms. For New Year's eve, my friend Chris organized a party for several members of our graduating class. To my surprise, Chris and I were the only ones not married or engaged. This is simply a statement of fact. I'm not looking to change that status any time soon. :)

I have a conference call for an mysterious internship on Monday. Hopefully I will have details about my plans for next fall earlier than I anticipated.

First soccer . . erm, football match?

I was invited to tag along to a soccer match between Paris St. Germain and le Mans by my French buddy Edouard at the beginning of December; it was . . . cold. I had fun, although I doubt I'll repeat the experience any time soon. Paris won 3-1.

The French buddy system was set up through the Center for the Americas, and I was assigned two buddies. Edouard is really great about inviting me to various events. The other gets nervous when he sees me in the hall (he's a bit younger), so we avoid contact as much as possible.

Here the guys are preparing for the match. I don't know if you can qualify McDonalds fare as sustenance, but they seemed to be re-energized by the experience.
Maxine, Alexandre, Samir & Hannah (David's American buddy)


Here I am bundled up for the match. Brrr!


David, Sylvain & Edouard (my French buddy)

You gotta love a guy in glasses . . .

How could anyone prefer Fred Astaire to Gene Kelly? Honestly?



I love this scene with Fred Astaire and Cyd Charisse, but Cyd totally steals the scene. I don't know of anyone who managed to steal a scene when Gene Kelly was dancing.



To be fair, we'll even compare the two dancing with the same woman.



Can I just add I love Gene Kelly's glasses? I just love a guy in glasses.

Random thoughts . . .

. . . on working:
I've come to the conclusion that my intentions to work this evening are completely futile. I'm babysitting, so at least it's a restful evening. I'm afraid of getting worn down and falling ill just as I head back to the US. Victoria fell asleep 15 minutes after I arrived, so it's been a peaceful few hours of reflection (and chatting with Stephanie).

. . . on hot chocolate and Christmas decorations:
I went for coffee with a friend today. I love how coffee can turn into a three hour event in Paris. Of course, I think I managed to have a few two-hour coffees in Iowa City. I had a steaming hot chocolate, which was just what I needed on a miserable rainy day such as today. Afterward, we wandered about enjoying the department store Christmas decorations and trying not to get trampled by the mob swarming outside of Printemps and Galeries Lafayette.

. . . on plans for the future:
Many of the conversations I have these days focus on making career plans for the future, more precisely the uncertainty and anxiety that accompanies this grueling process. I've decided to stop worrying; it may be easier said than done.

. . . on blatant generalizations about dating:
I am concerned that my perceptions of the opposite sex have been warped by my encounters with the French. French guys don't hold back when it comes to feelings. If anything they express feelings they don't even have, just to have something to express. If a French guy is interested in you, it's usually quite clear. Other nationalities do not necessarily share this approach. They might actually take the time to get to know you (what a novel idea) before making any sort of move; unfortunately, my experiences with the French have conditioned me to think that if a guy doesn't overtly hit on you in the first 24 hours, you must be meant to remain friends. Additionally, any perception I may have had of nuance or subtlety has been completely lost.

A tale of two cities

Of course, my perception of New York is not quite as romantic as that of Woody Allen's, but I can see how Gershwin's music encapsulates the throbbing pace of the city.

The following trailer for the film Paris by Klapisch (director of L'Auberge Espagnol) is a rather accurate representation for how I see Paris right now. Spring in Paris is another story, but right now it's gray, rainy and quite depressing.