A is for...au revoir.

I'm sure I have single handedly annoyed every single person who will still listen to me (or who I can cajole into reading an unsuspecting text) with my babble about how amazing Paris is. And I stand by that fact. This post is not a retraction of my undying love for the City of Love, nor is it a public apology for my incessant gushing about how astounding it is. Instead, I have decided to take this opportunity to share with everyone just exactly what it is that makes me love Paris.

Yes, Paris is breathtakingly beautiful in every aspect, from its alluring historical buildings that seamlessly transition into high fashion stores to its charming atmosphere that reeks of love. But that's not what really draws me to this city. What really consumes me about Paris are the little things. All of the small moments that turned to memories before I knew it. All of the perfect strangers who I met in the JKB basement that weaseled their way into my heart. All of the metro rides, arts classes and endless chateau visits. These are the things that make Paris my number one.

As I sit here on my last night in Paris, my emotions a jumble of aching sadness for leaving, excitement for getting home, and frustration over packing, it seems only fitting for me to recount some of those small things that changed Paris from a destination to an experience. I'm not going to number them, because I can't. I literally cannot. Counting the number of things that turned 3 months into a blink of an eye and an eternity at the same time would be as easy as counting the stars (or the number of crepes I ate here). But I can't think of a better way to spend my dwindling hours here than to reflect on what exactly happened here to change my life.

• Listening to that stupid kitten on the plane ride here
• Being assured that there would always be a place to stop for a sandwich
• Knowing there would always be an ibis nearby
• Realizing that Kailey and I actually were [handicapped] outcasts and got our own wing in the hotel
• Taking French alongside the nuns
• Shamelessly eating our weight in Haribo
• Getting lost on Erickson’s walks
• Constantly explaining to people that Mormons aren’t polygamists (and that they actually can eat fast food)
• Realizing the dead spider in my room wasn’t dead, but pregnant
• Eating so much fish
• Talking about the Maze Runner at every dinner with our host mom
• Always going to Trocadero
• Cooking pasta on those [few] nights we went home without eating
• Having “French” bread and cheese picnics at the Eiffel Tower where we were all obviously American
• Eating half a plate of food before trading Kailey for her half eaten plate
• Learning that Nixon is dead
• Realizing there are more stairs
• Laughing when that bad day finally ended
• Owning metro line 10
• Writing hashtag notes all throughout class
• #thatssoibis
• #lexinilson
• #notpossible
• Realizing that “our crepe guy” actually had our order memorized
• Discovering that it was actually possible to survive without grocery shopping
• Learning what a persimmon is—and that they need to be eaten when ripe
• Sneaking into the tube in London when my Oyster card decided to stop working
• Going out to the bar on Halloween and ordering water
• Meeting Fabian
• Deciding that hostels are not the place for me (or Kailey)
• Realizing all of my dreams were coming true at the Harry Potter studio
• Panicking every time someone came up to me on the street to ask me a question
• Never knowing which metro exit to take
• Noticing that my tampons had been pick-pocketed on the metro
• Eating Indian food
• Not eating Indian food
• “J'aime beaucoup beaucoup fatigue"
• Listening to Spotify instead of the audio guides
• Wondering how it’s possible for my room to always be dirty (#notpossible)
• Confusing people with our arts cards and getting in for free
• Knowing it would be a luke-warm shower when the shower faucet was already turned all the way hot after Lauren got out
• Pretending to drink the tea Kailey and I got for free
• Ice skating on the Champs-Elysées
• Celebrating my (and Lauren's) birthday at the Eiffel Tower
• Discovering stroopwafel and Dutch fries
• Making it home for Thanksgiving when the trains went on strike
• Having random dance parties--on the Champs, on the metro, on top of a castle
• Selfie-ing literally everywhere
• Forgetting where all our selfies were taken
• Listening to all of the words pouring from Sister LeBras’s spitfire mouth
• Collectively pleading the 5th when Bernie realized Maddie was no longer in class
• Knowing Tucker would always be late
• Penguin huddling when the weather turned against us
• Accidentally finding the best fast food chain in Paris (and never knowing what language to order in)
• Wondering where Mitch went
• Mass-murdering phone chargers
• Loving Lauren (and Kailey) for keeping my phone alive
• Realizing that I’ll probably live in a box winter semester
• Cuddling the heater and chowing down on pretzels while our nursery kids entertained themselves
• Deciding that stopping in to Paul for mini beignets was always necessary
• Fearlessly bartering with the scary keychain guys
• Laughing at everyone’s snapchat stories
• Crying at everyone’s blog posts
• Discovering that Kay is always right, Maddie always takes perfect pictures, and Lexi is always filming
• Learning that Africa is indeed a continent
• Finally having a day where everything went right
• Going home on that last night to realize that the power was out
• Deciding our host family probably got murdered and the murderer cut the power
• Watching the Eiffel Tower sparkle at night with my Laur
• Doing literally everything with my Kailey(oiselle)
• Realizing there is no place I would rather be
• Knowing there are no people I would rather be with

I applaud you for finishing that list. I know I'm not the first in our group to make a post like this (or even the second or third) and those of you not in my study abroad group probably only understand a handful of those things, but that list isn't for you guys. It's for me. So I can remember just exactly what it was that I loved so much about Paris. What it was that changed me and helped me to figure out who I want to be. 

So I'm sorry to all those who wanted something funny, or sentimental, or informational, but I just can't do that right now. Right now all I can think about are those great times I had in Paris (otherwise I will start sobbing), and take comfort in knowing that these memories will always be there, and that the best part of this experience is coming back to BYU with me. All of you who experienced those memories with me. Who laughed with me. Who cried with me. Who suffered with the language with me. You mean so much to me and I'm thankful for each and every one of you. I am so glad I will get to see you all next semester (yes, even you Maddie--shout out to Idaho! Holla!) and I swear, if you go get Indian without me and Kailey, well let's just there will be "consequences."

But for now, I must say au revoir to Paris and try to mentally prepare myself for a semester with real classes and no crepe stands.

Bisous.

[Photo cred to Alex Pynes! (Sorry, I stole this off Facebook...but it's my favorite!) Thanks bb!]

Don't cry because it's over,

smile because it happened

A is for...a day in the life.

The other day my dad and I were talking (well, emailing back and forth) and he mentioned us living in different worlds. I laughed as I responded that I was fairly certain that we still live in the same world. To this, he responded "I live in the real world and I'm pretty sure that you live in a fairy tale." To be fair, he's kind of right. Sometimes I feel as though I am living in a fairy tale. This opportunity to live in France has been incredible and I feel so lucky to be able to

participate in the study abroad program. However, while this experience is unforgettable, I don't think people quite understand what it's like to live abroad. To most, it simply sounds like I am on a 3 month vacation, and while sometimes it does feel like that, real life still happens here.

When I am FaceTiming or emailing my family and friends, they ask me what I have done that day or what I am planning on doing, anticipating an answer full of wonder and excitement. But the truth is, often times my answer is something along the lines of "Oh, we just hung out today" or "I don't know, I'll probably watch some Netflix for awhile." I sometimes feel guilty when I give answers like that as if somehow I am wasting my time here in Paris and I need to constantly be doing interesting Parisian things. But the truth is, that's exhausting. I tried that for awhile, believe me. It was constantly go, go, go, go, go. The Eiffel Tower, Notre Dame, the Seine, the Arc de Triomph, get up early, stay out late. But after a few weeks, the "honeymoon" stage wears off and real life starts again. So for all of you people out there asking the million dollar question--What's it like to live in Pars?--I'm going to tell you. The boring, brutally honest truth of what it is like to actually live here.

Waking up. Yep. It sucks just as bad here as it did back in the States. I told myself that when I got all messed up with jet lag that I was going to become an early riser. What a perfect opportunity to shake my bad habit of wanting to sleep in until 11 every day, right? Yeah, no. That did not happen. Sometimes I get the pleasure of sleeping in til 10, but often times I find myself up earlier than that for class (because after all, this is STUDY abroad, not PLAY abroad). After convincing myself that it is absolutely necessary to leave my bed, I go downstairs to the generous breakfast supplied by my host family--cereal. I actually love cereal, so I'm not going to complain about that, but I am going to complain about the milk. I'm not a huge milk person so I really can't complain about the taste because I honestly can't tell a difference. BUT, I do not think that it is normal for milk to not need to be refrigerated. Or for it to be good until March of next year.That just can't be good. Vive le France. 

Some mornings Lauren and I head out for a refreshing run through the gorgeous Bois de Boulogne. Other mornings we doggedly hike to the metro to get to a mind-numbingly boring class. And other mornings, I crawl back in to bed and watch some Netflix because I have nowhere to be and nowhere I'd rather be.

I really can't complain too much about class here. The workload is astoundingly light in comparison to classes back on campus. Plus, one class is simply walking through Paris--hands down the best class I will probably ever take. However, I am not going to pretend like I enjoy going to art or sitting through two hour religion lectures, and definitely not writing formal analyses on paintings that I really just don't care about (okay, that's only happened once but it was death). I thought it was bad doing homework in Provo, but it's ten times worse in Paris! I know that sounds so bratty of me, but in Provo, homework is such a normal thing. It's expected, and such a great excuse to get out of FHE. But when you live in Paris, you don't want to miss out on ice skating on the Champs Elysées because you had to do homwork! School is going to kill me back in Provo.

Whether it's after class or just when I finally decide to leave my house, I always end up "in the city" for the afternoon. I technically live right outside of Paris (as do most of the people in our group) so we all try to make it into Paris during the day to hang out and complete our walks. That's what happens most often. Walks. Like I mentioned earlier, I have a class that is a Francophone culture class and we have a book full of "walks" that we have to complete to help us get to know the city. They're actually super helpful and most of them are fun too. We are required to blog them (or keep some kind of written record) so if you want to read about all of the walks, they're on the Bonjour Paris page of my blog. The walks only take an hour or two so afterwards we usually go for macarons or gelato or crepes or whatever we are feeling like that day.

On the days that I don't do walks (I've finished them so now that's most every day) or sometimes after a walk, it's just free reign of Paris. Sometimes that means strolling through the Christmas market on the Champs Elysées and wishing I had more money. Other times it means paying a visit to the Louvre because it's much more enjoyable when you're not there for class (there I go sounding ungrateful again). Now and then it means Angelina hot chocolate and people watching in the Tuileries. Or stopping by Shakespeare and Company and admiring their beautiful books. But whether it's climbing the Arc de Triomphe or simply souvenir shopping, it's always a good time--not because of where we are, but because of who we are with. When you live in a foreign country and are basically incapable of speaking to people, it's easy to get really close with those few people who do speak English (aka my study abroad group and the American nannies and English teachers from the YSA).

Usually tiredness sets in around 5 or 6 and because I don't live in Paris and can't easily stop home for quick nap, that means I'm heading home for the night. Most people my age don't understand that, because, for them, the day doesn't even start until 7 or 8. But participating in the "nightlife" sounds a lot more sketchy when I can't communicate with those around me. Plus, our walks book conveniently leaves out where to find the best clubs. Most days I am more than happy to go in for the night. That means I get to settle in with my Haribo and catch up with the rest of the world via Facebook. It's also nice because it is around this time that everyone back home is getting up and going for the day so I can reconnect to wifi and communicate with friends and family.

Three nights a week (Sunday, Monday and Tuesday), Lauren and I eat dinner with our host family. Besides having an unhealthy obsession with preparing fish, my host mom is a pretty decent cook. (I've even started liking fish a tiny bit). Dinner is always a four course occasion. We start off with fruit or vegetables. Grapefruit or avocado, maybe. We then move on the the main course which is most of the time meat with a side of rice or vegetables. Then on to the Frenchiest of the courses-bread and cheese. I honestly love bread and cheese. It is one of the things I will miss most about France. Then on to dessert. At first they always had ice cream or something sweet for us, yet they always ate fruit. We made a comment one day that we wouldn't mind eating fruit for dessert too and I guess they took that as an invitation to stop buying ice cream and mousse. It's good though! Fruit is delicious here! Although I could do without seeds in my grapes. But oh well, I probably need to eat fruit instead of sugary sweets to balance out the junk eat during the day!

A few weeks ago, our host family decided they were only going to speak French at dinner to help us progress with our own French. That made dinner a little bit less pleasurable. As if they didn't think we were stupid enough by not being able to explain why the drinking age in America is 21, we're expected to do so in French. Yeah, dinners have gotten a lot quieter lately.

On the days that we don't eat with our host family, Lauren and I will sometimes make pasta or else run across the street to the small market and buy fresh fruit. And then there are those days when that bag of Haribo is going to have to do. (I promise I eat more than enough here). And sometimes there are actually nights when we don't get exhausted and decide to go out together and grab dinner together.

After dinner it's time to crack down on that homwork....or more often, time to crack down on Netflix because that is obviously the better choice. And then even though I tell myself every day that I am going to go to bed early, it's usually midnight or later when I finally put away my computer and get some sleep! And then the next day it starts all over again.

So there you have it, in an obnoxiously long blog post, that is what it is like to live in Paris. Not as glamorous as you think, but definitely nothing to complain about! Now if you'll excuse me, I've got to ignore work on my art final. Bisous!

A is for...angleterre.

I wish I could perfectly sum up all of the thoughts and feelings that have been running through my mind and body over here on my hiatus to Europe, but I just cannot find the appropriate words. So the way I see it, I have two options. Either I commence a rigorous study session of the dictionary, or else, I allow OneRepublic to take the reigns on this one. Because who doesn't love finding a song that describes their life perfectly?

"Woke up in London yesterday

Found myself in the city, near Piccadilly

Don't really know how I got here"

Okay, so maybe I actually do know how I got to London (obviously I took The Chunnel) but at the same time, how did I get to London? It was only a year ago that I was sitting in class, doing my best to tune out listen to my professor, wondering how I was going to get from Utah to Idaho for Thanksgiving. And now all of the sudden I'm in EUROPE? No. That can't be possible. (#notpossible). Never mind getting from Paris to London....How did I get from farmland and small towns to bright lights and metros?

"I got some pictures on my phone

New names and numbers that I don't know

Addresses to places like Abbey Road"

Fast forward from last Thanksgiving to last March. At this point, I was signed up to come study here in Paris and was sitting in my study abroad prep class, looking around at a room full of strangers (literally STRANGE), wondering how on earth I was ever going to survive. But seriously, I couldn't have handpicked a more perfect group to share this experience with. From the minute we landed here in France, we have been a family (pardon the cheesy, yet completely accurate cliche). Whether it's struggling to order a crepe in French or tripping on the [beautiful] cobblestone roads, there are the lovliest people right beside me who have done the exact same thing. And at the end of the day, when I open Instagram and see the photos my newest friends have posted--with or without me--I can't help but be overwhelmed with gratitude for such wonderful people to share this experience with.

"Day turns to night, night turns to whatever we want

We're young enough to say

Oh, this has gotta be the good life"

The good life. That's exactly what I think every time I round the corner and see the Eiffel Tower looming above me. It's what I think every time I discover a new pastry at the shop around the corner. It's what I think every time the nuns in my French class burst into laughter at someone's miserable attempt at speaking the language. Every time I see the guy at the crepe stand smile because he sees me coming for my third crepe that week. Every time I see the bridges full of locks, each representing a couple madly in love with each other. Every time my host parents give me another [french] book about the places I should visit. Every time I eat a macaron. Every time I drink Angelina hot chocolate. 

And that is all I could think of as I looked down at the Thames last weekend in London, blue skies above me, great friends beside me, and another incredible city around me. 

I know the title tricked you into reading this post, promising to be about England (Angleterre, in French). A blog post about a magical place where everyone speaks the same language as me. Where they have turkish delight (which by the way, is good enough that I would definitely join an evil queen for it). Where there are bright red telephone booths and double-decker busses. But if given the opportunity to tell you about my favorite moment in London, it wouldn't be the performance of Les Miserables that we went to at the Queen's Theater--even though it was literally chilling. Nor would it be the Warner Brothers Studio Tour, where I got to see the sets, costumes and props from the filming of Harry Potter (not to mention RIDE A NIMBUS 2000)--even though I'm pretty sure that was the day that all of my dreams came true. No, my absolute favorite moment from London was without a doubt, the moment, standing on Westminster Bridge, looking down into the [disgustingly dirty] Thames River, and realizing just how good life really is.

I can't explain what it was, but in that moment, the past rushed forward, the present stood still, and the future drew near, coming together into one perfect moment of clarity. In that moment, I was reminded of all of my favorite memories from the past. The simple ones, like playing in a pile of leaves with my siblings, eating fresh picked peas with my dad, and reading books with my mom.

In that moment, the potential offered by my future became clear. My mind took off in a whirlwind of thoughts for what school was going to be like next semester and the semesters after that. Thinking about all of the people I would get to meet. All of the things I want to do The silly things. Like having a Harry Potter movie marathon with my roommates. Like having a French party with my study abroad group where we make crepes and greet each other with a kiss on the cheek. 

And it was in that moment when I realized just how much of a gift the present really is. I was literally jealous of myself for having such a great life. Not just because I was in London, taking a vacation from Paris, might I add. But because I get to experience this beautiful world that was created for us. Because I literally have the best family on this planet. Because I get to love and be loved. Because the sun comes up every single day. Because the leaves change color in the fall. Because snow creates a glistening wonderland in the winter. Because the trees always blossom again in the spring. Because even the smallest of things give me reason to smile. 

I truly hope that I haven't bored you to tears making you read about how I literally have nothing to complain about. Because that wasn't the point. The point of me writing this post wasn't to gloat about just how good my life is, but to illustrate just how good life is. You don't need to be in Paris or London to find something good about your life. You just have to take a look around and I promise that you will find something. It isn't the big things that make life worth living. It's not the extravagant vacations or the newest iPhone. It's not the things we have countdowns for. The things that make life good are the little things that happen every day that we tend to look over. But when it's all said and done, all of those seemingly meaningless things will come together to create a good life, and I don't want you to have to come all the way to England to realize that like I did (although it's not a bad place to come to that realization).

Because after all, "THIS HAS GOTTA BE THE GOOD, GOOD LIFE."

A is for...author.

Sometimes I just get the urge to write and it becomes an uncontrollable itch that must be scratched. And although every day here in Paris is an adventure, I've decided to dedicate this blog post to some of the thoughts bouncing around my head.

"You are the author of your own life story." This simple saying that I'm sure is sick and tired of being embroidered on throw pillows and vinyled onto distressed wooden placards is one that I stand firmly behind. I have never, not even for a second, thought that anyone else could decide what was going to happen in my life. But sometimes, I feel as though it would be easier to hand the pen over to someone else. Jane Austen, perhaps. Maybe J.K. Rowling. There are times when I am certain that just about anyone could do a better job writing my story than I can, but unfortunately, the pen seems to be stuck in my hand. My story is incapable of being written by anyone other than myself. And if the pen really is mightier than the sword, well then I suppose it is time to learn how to wield this powerful tool.

I feel as though for the large majority of my life, I simply went through the motions. I lived out the exposition of my story, where the characters were introduced and the setting was revealed. Day after day I went through the motions of going to school and going to work and doing the things which were expected of me. I'll be the first to admit that it was a pretty dry exposition. Not to say I didn't have a good upbringing, because believe me, I have the fondest memories from those years. But it wasn't until I went to college that I really felt the power I held over my life.

Suddenly decisions became mine. If I didn't want to go to class, I didn't have to. If I wanted to eat Doritos and Oreos for dinner, there was no one there to stop me. It was a crazy freedom that I took advantage of, yet somehow, I missed the point of the privilege completely. Although I felt like I was taking control of my life, I was often frustrated by the pieces that seemed to be missing. I wore myself out trying to mold my life into the perfect story. I had an image of how things was supposed to go and was discouraged when I found my circumstances veering away from that vision. As a slightly OCD perfectionist obsessed with having a plan, it was hard to let go of that control and realize that I just needed a little patience--something I was severely lacking in.

Patience is not an easy thing to develop and I'm not going to pretend like I have mastered the virtue. But I have developed a new perspective and a new approach to writing out my life story. There are simply things that I cannot change. No matter how hard I try to write a Mr. Darcy into my story or how long I wait for my acceptance to Hogwarts to come (I'm sure it just got really lost in the mail), I can't do anything but wait. It can be infuriating, reading through an entire book waiting for the couple to get together or for the bad guy to lose, but if those things happened in the beginning, the rest of the book wouldn't be worth reading.

As much as it totally sucks accepting the fact that life isn't going to go exactly as I want, it's actually quite fun realizing that there is so much to my story that I do have control over. Sloughing class and prematurely giving myself diabetes is only scratching the surface of the things I can decide for myself. My life doesn't have to be a predictable cliché, nor does it have to be an action packed adventure novel. That's the beauty of it. I get to choose. And each chapter gets to be different. I can take as many twists and turns as I want, transitioning from one chapter to the next in this crazy thing called life. [Personally, I am a fan of the chapter in my life where I decide to move to Paris on a whim.]

So my advice to you would be to accept the things in your life that you can't change and change the things in your life that you can't accept. Don't let anyone else tell you how your story is supposed to go because nobody gets to decide that except for you. Because after all, you are the author of your own life story. Now go out there and write a story worth reading....or better yet, a story worth LIVING.

A is for...awesome.

Because bad days happen. Even in France.

It's funny, just the other day, as I was strolling down the street on a beautiful autumn day, the Eiffel Tower looming ahead of me, cute little French children outside laughing and playing, I thought to myself "I really do not think it is possible for a bad day to happen in France."  Yeah, I definitely should not have thought that! Because yesterday, my day was comical, it was so awful!

Our story begins Monday (yesterday) morning. That's a bad sign already. I mean, Mondays are bad enough as it is, I definitely did not need everything to go awry. Anyway, my alarm goes off Monday morning at 6:45 and I pick up my phone and think "NOPE, doing my hair today isn't THAT important" and promptly silence my phone--first making sure I did indeed have another alarm set for 7:00 and quickly fell back asleep. However, it was not the familiar and annoying sound of my cell phone that woke me up....in fact, I just woke up on my own. "I have definitely been asleep for more than 15 minutes...." You all know that feeling of panic shooting through your body when you wake up late, yeah? Well I was FREAKING OUT, especially when I grabbed my phone only to find that it was DEAD! Yeah...it died in the FIFTEEN MINUTES between my alarms...how convenient.... Not having another clock in my room to reference, I scramble to find my watch and jump out of bed realizing that I have to leave for class in less than half an hour. Awesome. 

Well, luckily, the metros were running smoothly and I somehow made it to class on time. And really, class was not that bad...well besides being STARVING due to missing breakfast. But my day was turning out pretty well until I got to my religion class. K religion is just rough. It's MONDAY AFTERNOON for one thing. Who can focus on a Monday afternoon? And then it's one of the only times during the week that everyone in the study abroad program is actually together so we don't want to sit still and quiet for two hours...we want to socialize because that's what college students do best! Add in the fact that all 17 of us (plus the teacher) are crammed into a room that really isn't meant for more than probably 10 people MAX plus free wifi compliments of the institute and there's really just no chance of focusing (but I'm trying my best Mom!! ^^)

But as rough as that class is, it really wasn't going too bad until Kailey nudges me and asks what time our train leaves for London in a few weeks. (K side note: I'M GOING TO LONDON AT THE END OF THIS MONTH!!! And so we could have tickets together, I bought my, Kailey's and Spencer's train tickets there, and Kailey bought our tickets back). So I pull up my confirmation email to check the departure time and my heart sinks. We're definitely leaving on the 30th of October, yet for some reason, the tickets that I purchased were for the 23rd....awesome. Oh yeah, and see that "Non-Flexible" there at the top of the confirmation? Yeah that means you're SCREWED!! No big deal....they were just $100 tickets that I bought...for the wrong date....yeah so that was an awesome realization.  Alex for the win.

After class, because I don't really feel like socializing anymore, I just head home. PRAYING the whole way that somehow I can fix my stupid, stupid mistake. When I get home I compose an email to the train company explaining what happened and send it off. (I can't call them or talk to them in person because hi, I don't speak French. Awesome.)

Oh yeah, and then there was that issue with my phone dying that I needed to deal with. I have a portable charger so I charged my phone during class but by the time I had arrived home, it was pretty close to dead again. WHY?!?! It's not like I use it during the day! I don't even have service! So I plug it in to charge and NOTHING happens!! Okay, maybe there's a short in the cord. That's fine. I brought an extra. So I switch the cords out aaaaaand NOTHING! Awesome. My phone can just be dead for the next two months. No big deal. Luckily, my amazing roommate Lauren let me borrow her charger and lo and behold, hers will actually charge my phone!

So after all that, Lauren suggests we go for a run. YES! Not only did I need to work off the crap I have been eating here, but I seriously just needed some fresh air. So we change our clothes and head out to the beautiful park by our house for a run. When we are A MILE AND A HALF AWAY FROM OUR HOUSE the heavens open up and it starts POURING RAIN!!! Awesome. So we turn around and run back, getting completely soaked (we probably could have washed our hair in this rain) and basically blind from the water and mascara that were pooling in our eyes. We finally get back to the main road and from there it's a short, easy walk home. About ten minutes later, we realize we had NO IDEA where we were. Awesome. Oh and I didn't think it was possible but it actually started raining HARDER once we realized we were lost!

Finally, we found a street we were familiar with. A street that is about half a mile from our house in the opposite direction. How we ended up there, I have no idea! But alas, we made it home, soaked and freezing. We must have been quite the site. I peeled off my wet clothes and treated myself to a hot bath. The day is almost over, it literally cannot get any worse. I was feeling quite a bit better when I went downstairs for dinner. SHRIMP AND MUSSELS!!! I should have known dinner wasn't going to be any better than anything else.

By the time I climbed into bed, I was beyond ready for the day to end. I was stressed, exhausted and ready for a good night's sleep. My phone was charged and at 90% battery life. All of my apps were closed. My alarm was set. And I welcomed the deep sleep that came over me. I did wake up at about 3:00am with the worst headache and sore throat of my life, but other than that, I slept quite well....until Lauren came into my room at 8:05 to wake me up this morning. MY PHONE WAS DEAD AGAIN!!!

Universe: "Good morning Alex, I hope you enjoyed your rotten day. Now lather, rinse and REPEAT!"

Awesome. 

Okay, today was definitely a lot better. I haven't heard back from the London train people yet, but my host mother (bless her heart) is going to call the France office and explain what happened for me tomorrow. Kaylie brought me a cord that will [hopefully] actually charge my phone plus she gave me drugs to help me fight my sore throat and any sickness I may have contracted from running in the rain. And I tasted pure happiness in the form of a chocolate cake thing from this AMAZING chocolate shop I found today. Soooo ça va. Life goes on. France is beautiful. And I will never again think about how bad days aren't possible here.

Bisous.



{Because I obviously didn't feel like taking photos yesterday and I feel awful about my lack of photos lately, here are a few completely unrelated photos from my life as of late}

After class at the LOUVRE

We had a picnic at the Eiffel Tower!

Group selfie on the steps of the Madeleine.

SELFIE!

A cute little Parisian man came by
and offered to take our photo! He said
we were American models...uuhhh duh.
Then he asked if Mormons really had more
than one wife....
(they don't).

A is for...amour.

So I'm in love. His name is France. I plan on spending the rest of my life with him. End of discussion.

But for real! The second I landed in Paris, I pretty much died and went to heaven. I didn't even know it was possible to love a place so much. However, getting over here was not super ideal. That is a

long time to be on a plane! (crossing through 8 time zones doesn't help much either). I left Idaho Falls at 3:10pm (mountain time) and got to Paris at 11:10am (Paris time). So that was fun....but between movies and sleeping, I got along alright. Not something I'm looking forward to doing again though. But once I was on solid ground, everything was just fantastic....until I got into a shuttle with a crazy Parisian driver! Seriously, it's worse than driving in Utah! I survived though! 

Paris is beautiful! Everything is so old (in a good way) and has so much history! It's crazy pretty!! But there are so many people!! A few too many for my taste, but what can ya do? Oh and the food!! So 

La glace!

many delicious carbs! I've probably eaten more carbs in the last four days than is healthy to eat in four months...but you know, it's whatevs. I also walk like seven miles a day so there's that....but don't be surprised if I come back from France morbidly obese! But it's worth it! Every single beignet. Worth it. AND THE SHOPPING!!! Good thing I have a low credit limit because I could drop millions!! Everywhere I turn there is a cute shop or an amazing store that is begging for me to come inside! (Luckily, in all of the small towns, the stores all close early so I can't shop). It's literally like a magnetic pull. I've been so good so far though!

I've seen some pretty wonderful things here. Like amazing! We've been to the most breathtaking chateaus and the most charming towns (see ma galerie de photos de France page) but the best thing I have seen so far is the Eiffel tower. I can't even express how much I love it! Especially at night! It literally sparkles! It is my most favorite place on this entire planet! And don't look at the photos and say it is beautiful because no, the photos are not even half as beautiful as it is in person. It literally took my breath away. So if you ever find yourself having fallen out of my good graces, take me there and all will be forgiven. So yeah, j'adore! C'est très éblouissant! 

So yeah, France is great! The countryside is gorgeous! The cities are dazzling! And I think that everyone should just live in

Church in Blois

France always. The end. Oh, but everyone should also speak English because French is hard!! Oh well! I have succeeded in ordering food so far so that's a pretty big success for me. I feel proud....but English would be better....but anyway, stop reading, pack your bags, and see you soon!

Chateau de Chenonceau

A is for...anemic.

The countdown has officially reached 26. 26 days until I pack up my life in one suitcase. 26 days until I say goodbye to my family and friends for three months. 26 days until I go to Paris! As my departure date draws nearer, my bank account grows smaller. The preparations and the program itself have managed to soak up all of the funds I have been working so hard to attain this summer, so when a friend recommended I donate plasma for some quick cash, I couldn't resist. Looking back, I realize I should have resisted. I mean, how can you even trust a place that asks you to "donate" your plasma. You're not even donating anything! They're paying you! It's basically prostitution of your blood.

First, let's rewind to about a year ago when I had to have surgery on my knee. The doctor recommended I get some blood work done prior to surgery to see if that could shed some light on what the mysterious ailment in my knee was. After hearing that counsel, my mother and I went straight from the doctor's office to have my blood drawn. Now I wasn't too keen on having some strange nurse take my blood, but I wasn't afraid of it either. They were going to poke my arm and take some blood. No big deal right? Wrong. The second they pricked my arm, I was out cold. I can't explain what made me pass out, but I did. So why I thought I would be able to donate plasma, is beyond me.

K, so let's fast forward to last week. It was a dark and stormy night. Okay, maybe it wasn't night, more like 6:00 in the evening but it was dark and definitely stormy. That should have been my first clue. Thunder, lightning, and flash flooding is bad mojo for plasma donation. But nevertheless, I made my way over to the plasma center after work, where I met my friend, Krista, who I had convinced to come with me. When we walked into the center I couldn't believe how many people were there! The place was packed! Really? There's this many people in Idaho Falls desperate enough to sell their plasma? The receptionist came up to us and explained that the storm had caused a power outage that had put them way behind. That's why there were so many people there. But having nothing else to do, Krista and I took a seat in the waiting room, determined to get our money.

The wait was surprisingly short, considering how many people were lined up to get their vitals checked. Before I knew it, a phlebotomist called me up to the counter and began going through the paper work and having me sign that I was indeed there on my own free will and all that fun stuff. She then walked me over to a room where dozens of people were hooked up to nasty vampire-esque machines that were sucking their blood out and pumping it back in. She had me sit down just so she could test my veins to make sure I could actually donate plasma. I looked at the guy across from me. Hmm there's his blood being swirled around above his head. That's kind of gross. Oh well, if I can look at that and be fine, I shouldn't have a problem. I can get through this. I was further encouraged as the phlebotomist told me I had excellent veins before taking me back to the counter to check my vitals.

That's where the trouble started. For some reason, as soon as I sat down I began feeling extremely lightheaded and a little nauseous. It's okay, just breath. I mindlessly obeyed as I was told to put my hands under the black light Maybe I can lay down for a while before I actually have to start donating. Or maybe I should tell her now that I'm about to pass out. "Okay, now I'm just going to do a quick finger prick...." Uh oh....bad idea...I really couldn't think straight and I was having a hard time coming up with a way to tell the phlebotomist that I was fading fast.

"I umm.....this is...umm....I don't think this is a good idea.....I think....I might....pass out."

"Just put your head on the counter...." Huh, someone's talking. I wonder if they're talking to me....

"Alex! Put your head on the counter!" Oh, they are talking to me. Good, I would love to rest my head...

"Get a wheelchair....."

Yeah, before I knew it I was being wheeled past the dozens of people who had accumulated around the counter. Awesome. I must look like a total loser. By the time I got to the head physician's office, I was feeling much better and was able to tell them so. I sat up and helped them to get the blood pressure sleeve thing around my arm. The good thing about passing out is that they always give you snacks. When Krista came looking for me, she found me comfortably sitting across from the head physician with a water and bag of goldfish. I was questioned about what I had to eat that day and at what time and finally I was forced to admit that I had passed out before doing similar activities. That's when I was informed that I couldn't now, nor ever, donate plasma, and that as soon as my blood pressure was high enough, I should leave the building, and never go back. Yeah, I got blacklisted from donating plasma.

Well lucky for me, Krista couldn't donate plasma either. She had shellac on her nails so when she placed her hands under the black light, they lit up like a Christmas tree. So we both happily left the evil place that steals your blood and headed to a place we were both much more comfortable--the mall. So moral of the story is, I don't do blood, I don't do needles, I don't do doctors, and apparently I don't do black lights either. Also, the "Help A Struggling Young College Student Get To Paris Fund" is now open and accepting donations. (Real donations, not the kind I have to pay you for...like plasma).

A is for...abysmal abilities

Well apparently I have had a terribly boring summer, seeing as how I have not had anything really blog-worthy happen in quite awhile. Basically my day goes as follows: wake up, drag myself out of bed, go to work for 8 or more hours, go home, watch Netflix (or read a book sometimes), try to work up the motivation to practice some French, go to bed, watch more Netflix, fall asleep, repeat. So yeah, with that repetitive schedule comes the sacrifice of doing anything worth blogging about. So even though it is Sunday, I am going to pretend that it is Thursday (you know, like Throwback Thursday) and throw it back to the beginning of summer. Back when I still had hope in the male gender and was accepting dates.

I always knew in the back on my mind that I was good at golfing. Even though I had never been golfing before, I figured that since I am absolutely abysmal at every other sport, there had to be at least one that I was good at. And since golf was pretty much the only one I had never taken a stab at, I just had to be good at it. So when my best friend Krista announced that her boyfriend's cousin was coming to town and that I was going on a date to the driving range with him, I was fairly excited to try my hand at the sport I knew deep down inside of me I would thrive at.

It looked simple. Place ball on tee. Swing. Easy enough, right? WRONG! I was sorely disappointed to find out that not only was I very wrong about my hidden talent at golfing, but that golfing was perhaps the sport which I was the very worst at. However, I did discover a secret talent during my hilariously embarrassing go at the driving range. I mean, it takes someone with serious skill to nearly hit herself in the head with the golf ball while attempting to drive in a forward direction. Yeah, try it. It's not as easy as you think. I've got skill. My embarrassment only widened as I witnessed my date hit golf ball after golf ball in a state of near perfection....with an injured wrist nonetheless!!

[But, on a side note, I would like to point out that on another date I went on this summer, we did shoot golf balls, and I was much better at that. And I've got the bullet-embedded golf ball to prove it.]

As our seemingly endless bucket of golf balls emptied, I was growing more and more relieved to finally be able to leave the golf course and find refuge in the cool, dark room of a movie theater. Now there's something I truly excel at. Watching movies. That's somewhat of a forte of mine. As my date watched me struggle making contact between club and ball, I was mildly confused as he asked me if I was good at making cookies. Well, yeah, I guess.....but I could not for the life of me figure out how that was relevant to our date at all. My confusion only deepened as he continued saying that we were going to win the competition hands down. What competition was he talking about? Krista had told me we were going to the driving range and then to a movie. As it turns out, she had told Kelsey, my other friend on the date, that we were going to the driving range and then playing games. But in all reality, we were going to the driving range and then having a cookie baking competition.

Well, I am fairly decent at baking cookies, but I must admit that I am much better at watching movies. But it really wasn't up to me, so back to Krista's house we went where we all quickly went to work concocting cookies without a recipe. I looked at the cereal box sitting on the counter amongst the assortment of cookie ingredients and facetiously told my date that we should put Krave in our cookies. Before I knew what was going on, he was pouring the cereal into a bowl and instructing me to crush it up. Well okay...either this was going to be brilliant or a complete disaster. And after making a fool of myself on the golf course, I was praying for the former. Honestly, I couldn't have duplicated that recipe in a million years of trying with both Daniel and I throwing ingredients into our bowl haphazardly. Oatmeal, chocolate chips, toffee pieces, butter, eggs, flour, cornstarch....I don't think there was a single ingredient on the counter (or even in the cupboard) that we didn't include in our cookies. And by the time they were ready to go in the oven, I was actually quite impressed by how edible the dough was. Maybe not fantastic, but edible.

Krista's cookies were the first to come out of the oven. Flawless and delicious, her cookies sent a wave of panic through me. Please let our cookies turn out good by some miracle. Next out of the oven came Kelsey's. Tasteless. They literally had no taste whatsoever. YES! Ours will at least be better than theirs. Then came ours. I tenderly took one of the cookies off of the cookie sheet, broke it in half, and gave a piece to my date. The second it touched his tongue, his gag reflex kicked in and he burst out in laughter. Our cookies tasted like chalk. Yep. I had failed at making a cookie that was even edible. Pretty sure that is like the one quality guys look for in a wife. I'm doomed.

But oh well. At the end of the night, we were all laughing about our failed experimental Krave cookies and having a good time. And even though I was horrificly bad at golfing and baking cookies, it was probably the most fun date I have been on this summer. And apparently the only good story I have from this summer! Let's all hope that 1) My golf game improves (at least to the point where I can get the ball to go horizontal instead of vertical) 2) That I never again put cereal in a cookie, and 3) That I go out and have some fun this summer so that a failed golf game and horrendous cookies are not the highlight!

A is for...assertions.

Hello all my wonderful people who take the time to read my blog! I guess I've had a really boring semester considering I haven't had anything to blog about! But that's not true, I've had a wonderful semester! I've just been busy!! Which may surprise those of you who have seen just how often I actually go to class....you guys probably think I have loads of free time! (Just kidding mom, I go to all my classes always!) But anyway, I just came to the realization that I absolutely love to write! ....K so maybe this isn't exactly a new revelation. I've always loved writing, but it did just come to my attention that I miss it! So here I am! ....at 3 in the morning...woohoo! Unfortunately, nothing wonderfully hilarious, adventurous, or awkward has happened in my life recently so considering the fact that my first year of college is coming to a close, I figured I would take some time to reflect on all of the wonderful life lessons I have learned this past year! So sit back, relax, and prepare to be enlightened!

#1 8:30 College Time Does NOT Equal 8:30 High School Time
My entire high school career I made it to school in time for class at 8:30 sharp EVERY DAY! And school started even earlier in junior high and elementary school and I never had a problem being on time. So a 9:00 class shouldn't be a big deal, right? WRONG! Time is warped in college and all the sudden if your alarm is  going off any earlier than 10:30 it sounds like a million demonic souls shrieking at you from the very depths of  Hell. Trust me, I've tried going to bed early and everything, but somehow, even if I have gotten a good 9 hours of sleep the night before, making it to a 9:00 class is NEVER an easy task. Honestly, I'm pretty proud of myself for getting there most of the semester. But let's just say, lesson learned! And never again will I register for a class that starts earlier than a jovial 11:00. (Alright, in all honesty, I probably will, but I like to think that I won't).

#2 Cooking Seldom Goes Beyond TV Dinners and Poptarts
No matter how often I tell myself I am going to cook nice meals, ramen and hot pockets will always sound better. Not because they taste better, but the ratio of effort to satisfaction is unbeatable. You see, after an exhausting day of sleeping through class, watching Netflix, and mindlessly checking Facebook, I simply do not have the motivation to make anything requiring more than five minutes of my time or two ingredients. Not to mention, you can get ramen and hot pockets for dirt cheap and they last for like...ever! That's one thing I've noticed about my cooking habits....is even when I go grocery shopping and get all motivated to eat better and buy fruits and vegetables and all that "healthy stuff," I never consume it before it goes bad. And there is nothing worse than throwing away rotten money! So folks, here's the solution. Ramen, HotPockets, Poptarts, and a hearty supply of Oreos. Not only will you have food readily available to you in a matter of minutes whenever you want it, but you'll also be able to take all that money you're saving by not buying healthy food and treat yourself to ice cream every once in a while! Or maybe you'll really treat yourself and go out to eat--and by go out, I mean call Jimmy Johns, Pizza Hut, or any other place that will bring their food to you, thus minimizing the amount of effort required. This will also make you develop a deeper appreciation for family members who occasionally invite you over and feed you an actual home cooked meal!

#3 Your Future Self is NEVER as Motivated as You Think She/He Will Be
This year I have definitely relied on "Future Alex" a little too much. You see, when I have to choose between studying and staying up until one in the morning shooting my roommate's Beatles poster with a Nerf gun, obviously I can choose the latter because "Future Alex" is going to study extra hard tomorrow and she will most certainly ace that test! ...well if only "Future Alex" didn't turn into "Present Alex" whom I already know is incredibly lazy and good for nothing! (Okay, she's definitely not good for nothing, I mean, she does know how to have a good time, she's just no good for homework or virtually anything productive).

So eventually, because your future self sucks at life, you WILL find yourself with about two week's worth of homework to do on one night and that, my friends, will be the night that you decide your procrastinating has simply gotten out of hand and you will commit to being a better student and staying on top of things from that moment on. Aaaand then the next day will roll around, you'll get another homework assignment, and since you did about fourteen and a half long hours of homework the day before, you can defer just that one assignment to your future self. And then, just that one assignment turns into just those two and then just those four and pretty soon, you'll find yourself exactly where you were before. But that's okay, because "Future Alex" can deal with all that!

#4 Sleep = GOOD
They weren't lying all those times they said you needed your sleep back when you were like 2 and fought naptime like a dog being taken to the vet to be fixed. Boy do I wish I could take all those naps I didn't want back then and use them now! Never underestimate the power of a good nap! The key is to try to squeeze those naps in when you're NOT in class....but you know, sometimes you just have one class that is completely pointless but falls in the middle of all the rest of your classes *cough cough* anthropology *cough cough* and in that case, it is occasionally okay to catch up on your sleep there. Let me tell you about my theory on nightly sleeping.

Obviously, if you get like six or more hours, you'll be good the next day! At least, that's what the "experts" say so even if they're completely crazy and wrong, the placebo effect has our backs and we'll be okay! If you by chance stay up a little too late making crepes for a French project or cleaning your apartment for the cleaning check you have first thing in the morning, all is not lost! Three or fewer hours of sleep is just like a nice power nap and you will be good to go for most of the rest of the day! (You might crash around five or six, but you'll be up and ready to start the night's adventures by eight or nine). However, if you're unfortunate enough that the amount of sleep you got falls between those two divisions, well, I truly apologize. You WILL be a zombie for the entirety of the next day and it is for these occasions I recommend having a hearty supply of Mtn Dew, Dr Pepper, and any other caffeinated drink which pleases you.

#5 Netflix is Your Best Friend
But for real, Netflix is always there for you. When you need a distraction from homework, it's there for you. When you can't sleep at night, it's there for you. When you're just plain bored, it's there for you. Get the picture? Netflix is good! It's good I'm telling you!! No! I don't have a Netflix problem! I only watch one or two [seasons] in one sitting. Okay, so in all reality, Netflix can be a real life saver! Especially when you don't have cable....or even a tv that hooks up to a dvd player, it's nice to be able to shut own all cognitive

processes and zone out for a little bit. A few good laughs later and it's like you're completely rejuvenated and ready to tackle that homework you thought your future self would have done long ago. And you know, despite popular belief, college students don't have wild parties every night (or maybe that's just BYU) and more often than you'd think, socializing turns into a movie night (like always) and it's nice to have a supply of some good movies and a lot of mediocre movies and even more awful movies to choose from (even though you will probably end up spending more time deciding on a movie than actually watching one). Just be careful when selecting a new television series to watch, cause if you choose the wrong one and get over-invested, well you can say goodbye to the outside world for the next week while you lock yourself in and watch all six seasons back to back.

So there you go. Nine months and a few thousand dollars later, I'd say I have learned some useful things here at college. Now I'm just counting down the days until summer when I get to sleep in and enjoy home cooked meals all the time! LAWL! That's a joke! More like waking up even earlier every to get to work so that I can afford to come to more college and learn even more useful stuff! But hey, s'all good! I'm figuring out this "being a responsible adult thing." ....well, it's an ongoing process okay! I'm working on the "adult" part right now. I'll leave the "responsible" part to Future Alex! :)

A is for...ammunition.

Well, it's a new semester and I must admit I've been much busier than I had anticipated. Apparently having friends and a social life sucks up a lot of the free time I had gotten used to last semester! But I can't complain! Life's good!

Well....there does seem to be one aspect in my life that could be improved upon. You see, in my silly freshman ward there are 134 beautiful young girls and 29 guys. So yeah, that's great. Well, for this reason, my college life thus far has been completely celibate--free from dating and relationships of any kind. I kind of got used to it last semester, but this semester I decided that I was going to have fun and meet people! So last week, my lovely roommates and I got to experience the terror that young men face as they ask someone out on a date. Haha just kidding...there was no terror involved! It was a piece of cake! I don't know why guys have such a problem with it! We all landed ourselves dates in a matter of minutes, no sweat! So we were all pretty excited for our upcoming date and then Friday night came (our date was on Saturday) and we realized that we actually had to PLAN a date....k that part was a little harder!! I mean, we had an idea of what we wanted to do but we certainly hadn't nailed down any details nor did we have the supplies to fulfill our tentative plans. So that was fun.

Luckily, my wonderful roommate Michaela planned and prepared a date late on Friday night that ended up being a blast!. To start, we made pizza!! But seeing as how we're poor college students, most of the supplies were acquired from the dollar store. That seemed like a good idea at the time, but we soon found out that what the dollar store sells isn't exactly "quality." It all tasted fine, but the cheese was plasticy and didn't exactly melt as cheese should when placed in a 450 degree oven. Well as mentioned before, we're college students, and not only are we poor, but we've also been known to eat nearly anything, so the "fake" cheese didn't deter us and we still gladly consumed our pizza that turned out to be delightful regardless of the cheese not being melted! But Michaela and Tanisha had overestimated how much pizza we were going to make. There were still about four packages of "cheese" left once we had finished with our dinner. The cheese may have been okay for us to use on our pizza, but we couldn't imagine when we would ever use the rest of it so we did the only logical thing we could think of. We divided up the cheese, headed outside, and had an epic cheese fight. Yep that's right, a cheese fight.

For a raging four minutes, the air was littered with shreds of mozzarella flying every which way. There was nowhere to hide. No matter which way you turned, you were bound to be pegged with a fistful of cheese. The battle was intense and unlike any other battle in history. I'm glad to report that the casualties were few, though there were some pretty gruesome battle wounds. Having lived through a battle like that, we have all been changed and have a different view of life. You never know when your last moment is going to be, any moment your life can be unfairly taken from you. Let me tell you, there is nothing more terrifying than seeing Zach Chase out of the corner of your eye running towards you with a savage look in his eye and a handful of dollar store cheese! It's moments like those that make you realize how important it is to value what you have and not take anything for granted. Cause when it comes down to it, you really don't know what the future holds and all you can do is live in the present and truly appreciate what you have.

This semester has been full of a lot of learning experiences for me and not just in my classes. (In fact, I don't think I've really learned anything in my classes this semester) But one of the most important things I have learned is that having friends who truly care about you is one of the most valuable things you can possess. The kinds of people who will pick you up when you fall. The ones who will go to every extreme to make you laugh when all you want to do is cry. The ones who will tell you how beautiful you are when you wake up five minutes before class starts. And especially the ones who don't question you or give you funny looks when you suggest having a cheese fight, but instead grab a bag of shredded mozzarella and run out the door planning an ambush!! Those are the people who you need to seek out! And once you find them, hold on to them! Cause without good friends, life would suck. And I can't even express how grateful I am for all my friends. I would probably just explode without them. Or as my best friend Kelsey would tell me, I'd end up a stripper in Vegas. Yeah, I don't know how she arrived at that conclusion, but that's one of the many reasons I love her!

So basically, in sum, live life to the fullest, don't take things for granted, find good friends, and if you're ever in need of a cheap, fun date, the dollar store has some awful cheese that makes for some good ammunition!

We later returned to the battle sight
and left our mark! 

This is me and my date, Blaine,
 as drawn by Tanisha.