October?

I'd like to think that California is now in the autumn season like the rest of the country, but it is just so hard to tell! I am pretty sure that we had a day of fall about a week ago, but then we went straight into winter the next day, skipped spring, and were back into summer by the weekend. Yesterday had some nice gray clouds, but the google weather forecast says that we will be back in the 80's by Wednesday. (So I waited until Friday to finish this blog, and yesterday it got up to almost 90. Rediculous.) I've given up, and decided to be thankful that I don't have to plan a Halloween costume that would allow a snowsuit underneath.


The other signs of fall in Long Beach are Midterms, talks of flushots, and of course, a pumpkin patch. Without these things, I might think that we are still in August. I, the lucky girl I am, got to go to Pa's Pumpkin Patch just off PCH last week. Chad and I went, saw the goats, sheep and alpacas, found the biggest and misshapen pumpkins that Pa had, and then Chad bought me a gourd. It is green and yellow and warty and the perfect companion to my mini pumpkin I got in September. (I was impatient.)

I went to Hollywood on Wednesday and saw Jon Lovitz perform his stand-up comedy. He was very funny, but the most exciting part was driving to Hollywood. I tend to forget that it is so close, that all these famous California locations are less than an hour away. The city is dusty, the cement sidewalks are cracked everywhere from tree roots and probably an earthquake or two, and a lot of time it feels like there are more cars than people. But the Los Angeles gives off this intense feeling of life and ghosts at the same time, so you are completely surrounded by lights and other people and, well, cars. You are so enveloped in these other forces that there isn't a moment where you can look around and not feel intrigued by something you see. Plus, I think the guy that sat in front of me (who just happened to be the tallest guy in the room) was famous in some way. He looked familiar, so two points for Hollywood in really having celebrities.


Another great California city is San Diego, where I got to go see my favorite band, Gaelic Storm in concert. I wasn't completely convinced, even at the end of the show, that despite how absolutely gorgeous the early 1900's theater was, that it the appropriate setting. I couldn't dance at all, and it is really, really hard to listen to Irish music and not dance. My consolation, however, was that after the show, two of my friends and I got to go visit with the band for a little while. I like to say we all went to get dinner, but really it was just Genevieve who got dinner, and everyone else just ate her French fries. Band tax, I guess.

Dictionary.com lists limn as it's word of the day, but I would like to propose one of my new favorites: Honorificabilitudinitatibus- the state of being able to achieve honors, and the longest word in all of Shakespeare's works. And, since we are on the literature subject, if anyone would liek to read along with the book club I am in, we just finished Atwood's The Handmaid's Tale, and you still have time to Read Dahl's The Witches.

Happy Halloween!

Autumn in Long Beach

I guess it's safe to say that I have let myself disappear from the world for the most part. Well, I am back, and I will be trying my hardest to keep the world informed of my activities. The summer ended beautifully. Rachie turned 17, the prettiest age of them all, and Nettie married Jacob, which means I've got myself an actual brother!! She was a pretty bride, and it was one of the greatest dance parties in history. Dad even catwalked to Right Said Fred! Rachel is a senior in high school now, and a five-star frozen yogurt swirler, which makes her the rock star of the family.

Fall semester of 2008 began a month ago, reminding me how huge the CSULB campus is, and how lovely it is to not have to worry about understanding the language of instruction. California seems to be in denial that it's no longer summer, but I am more than ok with that! The first half of my two year long senior year has been passing calmly. All of classes seem to relate to each other, which a nice confirmation that upper division classes are a billion times better than GEs. I have also declared a second major, which officially makes me a double major in Linguistics and English (emphasis in Creative Writing) with a minor in French. It keeps me busy.

I'm still coordinatoring, which keeps me even more busy. I love working with all the RA's though, especially with their event projects. They get to plan fun social events for residents, and my staff is really prepared and creative, which makes my job so much easier! I also supervise a community service committee, so that's even more good stuff for me to get involved in. Then, I am involved with two clubs on campus (Christian Youth Group one and a Study Abroad one), so free time is a rare a special thing for me. Chad does a good job of keeping me mostly un-crazy and helps me focus on important stuff like homework and getting off campus to the outside world!


I've been spending most of my free time doing four things. Mostly, I'm in my kitchen, actually, practicing my baking and chocolate-working skills. I figure that if this whole college/writing thing doesn't work out, I can always start a chocolaterie. I also watch reruns of The Office and old black and white movies, which I realize are almost opposite genres that don't really mix very well, but I can't help what I like. I've started up a book club in the Residence Halls! Our first book is A Handmaid's Tale, but I haven't started it quite yet. (The Picture of Dorian Gray was amazing- I couldn't put it down!) All this reading has got me to start writing more, which is great for my creative nonfiction class. I think my work is okay, but I haven't been critiqued yet. I would just like to thank my friends and family for being such fun characters to write about- you guys make me sound pretty darn cool in class!


Question for the week: How many morphemes would be in eggplant? Yes, it is a compound noun, but does it's etymology really require it to be separated? I say no, but this has become quite the controversy in my semantics class.

California, Right Back Where I Started From

I have been home for almost a month now, and it feels like I've been home a lot longer. In fact, after being home about three days, it felt like I had been home for a lot longer than a month. Before I left for Switzerland, my study abroad department gave an informational meeting about stuff we should know while in our respective foreign countries. One topic was reverse culture shock- where we might have trouble readjusting back into California life. Nope. Not such a huge problem. My beach is right where I left it, my sisters are still silly and the weather is, at 90+ degrees Fahrenheit, where it should be for summer.

The flight from Geneva to London was easy- I slept the whole way. Then, I got to Heathrow. First off, the new terminal 5 is amazingly huge and looks like an extended set for Doctor Who or some other future-y show. But, as I should have guessed, security is high, and they didn't like my 25 pound carry-on bag filled with books. So I had to unpack my bag and flip through every page of every book to prove I was hiding pieces of bombs between my copies of Italian Edgar Allen Poe and my German-English dictionary, then repack and run to catch my flight. Good news is, it turns out I'm not a terrorist. I did break the plane though, on the way to LAX. During take-off, there was a bang above my head and then the oxygen masks came tumbling down. Not everywhere- just my row. I thought it was exciting, but my terrified Scottish seat-mate did not agree. She was pacified, however, when we were escorted to the first class "World Traveler" section.

After a couple naps, Harry Potter 4 and Sense and Sensibility, I was home! I don't mean to brag, but I think Chad and my mom were impressed to see me wheeling two oversized suitcases by myself with that only-slightly-ridiculous carry-on slung over my shoulder through LAX customs. I spent a few days at home, visiting with my family, handing out chocolate and telling stories to anyone that would listen. I think the most well-received story is the time when the Swiss Ninjas raided the building next door to mine. Good times. Ask me in person if I haven't told you- it's more fun when I can see your reaction. Anyways, I tried on my bridesmaid's dress, danced crazy with my sisters and future-brother, and inherited Jenette's old apartment stuff. Hand-me-downs are like Christmas without the actual holiday, just the presents.


Then, too quickly, I moved into my new apartment in Long Beach. I love it- it's big and it's mine! I keep my fish in the living room; my kitchen is slowly gaining cooking food (like Kool-aid and Bisquick!); and I have a queen-sized bed! I still don't have queen-sized blankets yet, but it's summer- so two twin blankets are perfect, even if it looks kinda funny. Thank you, by the way, Auntie Colleen for the afghan and Kelly for the quilt! But, although I love my apartment, I work a lot, so for the first week or so, I didn't see too much of it. Plus, it's weird coming home to an empty place. Heidi, where have you gone? So my family came up and made me dinner to help break my kitchen in. All friends are welcome to to keep me company!

I started work right away- my first morning, before I even had my key card encoded, the fire alarm went off in my old building, and we had a visit from the Long Beach Fire Department. Welcome back to RA life! Then we had the hubs check in. Our residence halls become a sort-of dorm-hotel during the summer, and most groups having any sort of conference on our campus stay in the halls. The hubs, a group of warm-hearted, good-doing, volunteering, new-age humanity-business people (they were that complicated) came. I had to learn new stuff in the office and figure out a organization system really quickly, because as kind as they were, they needed our office's help in organizing themselves more than I thought anyone would. I think that they were a good group to learn on, because that answered any and probably all "But what about this unlikely scenario" questions.

Life continues on like normal .I got a new public library card from Long Beach City, so I just finished Fahrenheit 451, which I loved and already want to read again. Now for The Picture of Dorian Gray. (or is it Grey?) Three chapters in, and I'm already in love with it. I went to Huntington Beach and got milkshakes with Genevieve and Kelly at the Ruby's on the Pier, and I am catching up on the movies I've missed. Definitely see Chronicles of Narnia and Wall-E, but skip The Happening. I'm still way behind on pop-culture in general, especially music, but I'm not disappointed in the least about that. I like my Irish music and Hollywood jazz and Big Bill Broonzy better than popular music anyways.

I am settled, and happy and finally warm!

The Last Few Days

To send me off properly, Switzerland has decided to rain all week before I go home. I like rainy days and thunderstorms alright, but I was hoping to have at least one day of sun to take pictures of. Denied. I don't mind too terribly, though, because it does make for nice weather for tea and fondue and looking forward to California sun.

Finals are over, my papers are finished and classes aren't meeting anymore. I am on my last few days in Switzerland, and everything seems to be going a little too easily. I had no problem packing my bags and fitting everything and being under the weight limit, everything that had gone missing during the semester resurfaced, I checked out of my room (and moved in with Heidi) with no problems, and I am going to have exactly the right amount of chicken breasts to last until my last dinner. I feel like I should just be thankful and keep going, but it makes me nervous that something hasn't gone terribly wrong yet.

Last week, some of the local kids were playing baseball in the park that my window overlooks. It was amazing to see them playing something over than Europe's beloved football, and especially amazing to see baseball of all the other sports in the world. I watched them play for a good half hour and got probably a little too invested in their game, but it was brilliant. Just after a boy in a red cap hit the first home run, though, the game was called on account of rain. It continued to rain through the evening and when I walked back from my classes, I had a magnificent view of a thunder and lightning storm.

The cows have disappeared from outside my apartment building. As mysteriously as they showed up two months ago, grazing on the grass and watching the metro pass every ten minutes, they have gone. I got quite attached to them and their noisy cowbells, so I hope their are as happy as California cows wherever they are, because, as everyone knows, happy cows come from California. The Unil has moved the sheep and donkeys closer to my metro stop though, so instead of my daily "How now, brown cow?" I get to say a quick salut to the other animals.

I, however, apparently do not. In two of my classes, while discussing my plans to return home, it turns out that my classmates were very surprised to find that I am an American. They all could tell that I had an accent and spoke English, but both classes thought that I was Irish. Then me trying to explain that while my family is partly of Irish descent, I, nor my parents, ever lived in Ireland. Then to make it worse, Irish dancing (as many thought) is strictly reserved for only Irish people, so how could I possibly be of a different nationality? All those times I tried so hard to be on time and speak well and be polite to represent America just gave cool points to Ireland. Erin go bragh, I guess.



So now I would like to thank all of you dear readers for hearing about my silly little life in Switzerland. I have enjoyed this blogging thing, so I think that I shall continue for a while longer. Hopefully I will still be interesting in Long Beach! Ciaociao Lausanne!

Finals Week(s)

With two weeks to go before I come home, I am trying to take in as much as I can of my life here. As much as I would like to spend the next 14 days traveling the country (I still have not seen the Matterhorn!), that's more easily said than done in the midst of finals week. It's amazing what procrastination can accomplish, however. In avoiding my finals, I have cleaned my room, vacuumed the apartment, done two loads of dishes, and found both my missing journal and gloves all in one day! I am not looking forward to leaving my adventures here behind, but I must admit that I will be happy to go home for, if nothing else, the cereal.


This was in Utrecht, (Netherlands) where I was taunted by a heavenly box of Apple Jacks being held hostage behind those horrible bars. I almost cried when I couldn't rescue them. This store also had Betty Crocker frosting and blueberry muffin mix in the window, which inspired me to find a world market in Lausanne. So I did. It's inexplicably bizarre to go to the world market and find overpriced bottles of BBQ sauce and bags of marshmallows sitting on the shelves next to all the other "real" foreign foods. Just another reminder that here, an American s'more is just as exotic as some Anthony Bourdain-esque meal.

The Past Month

I probably should have seen it coming, but I never would have guessed he would have been so sneaky. My bird friend, who has spent so much time keeping me company, eventually flew in the the open window. But, to my surprise, he entered through the kitchen window, not my bedroom's. He claimed the kitchen table as his own new land, making just enough rustling and tip-toeing sounds to make me suspect a home intrusion. Sneaky, sneaky little oiseau. He left as quickly and quietly as I chased him (quickly, but not so quietly) back out. In California, I've notice that there are more ant attacks in the fall, before it gets colder for winter. I suppose I could decide that my feathered visitor's home invasion was meant to signify the start of a new season, too.

Spring has finally arrived, and it could not have come at a better time! The ugly knobbly trees finally have leaves, the insect population has grown both indoors and out, and, just like all those illustrated kids books always claimed, calfs and lambs have shown up next to their mama animals. I cannot stress, however, how much of an impact seeing the sun has had on me. My excitement at it not raining for a week has hindered my common sense though, and as a result of my reveling in the glorious sun, I've already had two sunburns. Although both were completely worth it.

The first I received while on what had started as a pleasant walk around Lac Léman. This walk eventually turned into an epic journey as my friend and I set the nearby city of Montreux as our goal. We reached our destination 21 lizards, 16 car honks, 7 hours, 5 speedo-or-less old men, and 20 miles later. The second was not as much of a sunburn as a light-pink tan while spending the day with my family in The Netherlands.


The Netherlands was amazing. As much as I didn't want to leave Rome when I visited Italy, I could have moved into a cardboard box just outside the residential area of Amsterdam. I keep trying to describe how beautiful the buildings were, how kind the people were, how happy I was there, but these words just aren't working the way they should. I will say that Dutch food is amazing, filled with tasty bread and chocolate and butter, Dutch people every ounce as friendly as they are tall, and cities built on top of canals is pretty much the way I would design my town if I had one of my own. (I would also have bubbles come from all public building windows, more bicycles than cars, and have a waterfall in the town center, just in case you were wondering.)

Life as Usual

The French verb naître means "to be born," and naissance means "birth."

So why, oh why, would I not realize that re-naissance on my quiz last week meant "re-birth," and not the period that followed the middle ages if the entire quiz focused on religion and not historical eras?


Life has been stiflingly slow as I am suffering one of my worst bouts of homework-writer's block. While I am still interested in all my subjects, and have faithfully been following my coursework, my motivation to not procrastinate and to finish all my work has almost completely disappeared. So, I remain locked in my room until my homework muse shows up.

Saturday night, while waiting for my muse, I faintly heard fireworks crackling outside. So I ran up to the roof to search the skyline. Unfortunately, there was a building perfectly blocking my view, so I watched the second half and finale of the show through the reflection of several windows of the apartment building across from mine. Not the most spectacular view, but still, it was a unique way of enjoying the fireworks.

For the past week, a brown finch-like little bird has been landing on my window sill and keeping me company. Sometimes he helps me to wake me up in the mornings. Other times, he just sits and primps himself while I read. Heidi says that it's like I am Cinderella, but as of yet, I have not seen any singing mice, and do not feel particularly inclined to make tiny hats and shirts for my new friend. I am very glad that he is so small and sweet, because my window has no screen, and he isn't afraid to sit right on the open frame. I don't want imagine my reaction if I were to wake up and see one of those evil-looking pigeons from Rome chilling just a few feet away.

Rain, Rain!

Monday was a beautiful sunny day. I didn't even have to wear a scarf to walk to class! Tuesday was just as beautiful, but it snowed the whole day. From Wednesday until the end of the week, it rained. The rain came pouring down as if it were Winnie the Pooh's blustery day. As I sat at my window, watching the little creek's water level rise, I wished that the storm would wash away the assignments written on my class syllabus the way it washed away the letters in his book. But, I was not so lucky as Pooh Bear, and I still had three papers to write.

Mid midterms season, most of my time is spent locked away in my room, writing and reading. Although I love both of those things, I don't think my head's come back right after my Italy trip. Bitten by the travel bug, school works is becoming increasingly more and more difficult to focus on. At least the two papers I have left to write are on my own topic choices, so it is definitely more motivating when I'm interested. Still, I am tired of my corner. See, my wireless card is only able to receive internet at the far corner of my room (luckily by the bed) and facing a certain angle at the kitchen table. The kitchen provides too many distractions, and I end up eating more than studying. So, I've barricaded myself in my cozy little corner, unable to move without losing all internet connection, typing away about the strange cases of both Jekyll and Hyde and The Yellow Wallpaper.

This evening, I went to Circus Nock, a charming 1-ring circus under a great big red and white striped tent. There were tigers, zebras, horses and llamas all ready to perform for Heidi's first circus. Like every good circus, there were too many jugglers, cotton candy by the pound, and the acrobats fell just enough to give you a scare. My favorite act was, as always, the tightrope walker, who could unicycle and toe-shoe across the highwire. Although the show was aimed for kids and there wasn't anything earth-shatteringly original, it was an enchanting distraction from homework for just a few hours, and was able to rival Wednesday's sunset thunder and lightning storm for the best part of my week.

I've Really Been There!

It has been brought to my attention that because most of my blog pictures are not of anybody, one could doubt that I actually visited any of these places I've been talking about. I don't deny that I would make up stories to tell you all, but in this case, everything so far has been true, and I have the proof! Enjoy this vain display of my travels!

At the Foro Romano

In windy Lyon

After climbing Giotto's Tower in Florence

Riding a giant seahorse in Vevey

The Traveling Gnomes at St. Peter's Square

Italian Holiday

It's funny the way things are never exactly the picture you paint in your imagination. I think a lot of people view seeing the differences between their imagined version and the real thing as disappointment, but I love it. I love making those comparisons and learning about what the world is really like. Sometimes I maintain that my imagined version is better than the real thing, but this was most definitely not the case with Rome. Granted, I had it in my mind that there would be less people in Italy, but I guess traveling during Spring Break isn't the most original idea. Still, it was amazing to be there in Florence and Rome, actually using the Italian I've learned, eating pizza, and browsing street vendor shops.

My favorite place in Rome was definitely Trevi Fountain, although the Spanish steps were magnificent at night! I loved the way you had to search for the fountain, as it was hidden down these little streets filled with tourist shops and gelaterias, then boum! The whole fountain is just spread out between the buildings with all of its waterfalls and lights and pure white statues. Although it was overcrowded with tourists,the fountain was beautiful enough to actually help me block out the other people. The Spanish steps were even harder to find, but we could see a beautiful night skyline of Rome from the top, and were entertained by a group of Italian high-school age kids with two guitars, stumbling their way through Red Hot Chile Peppers songs. The way the city has so much history woven through it, thousand-year old pillars just chillin' next to the metro line fascinated me. Plus, Heidi and I were only the 2nd people to enter the Colosseum, so it was actually much more haunting and impacting being there without the innumerable tour groups. Also, the week after Easter is free to enter almost all museums and attractions, so that was an unexpected and fantastic surprise.

Florence was quaint and intimate, much less polluted by cars and tourists than Rome, but I have to honestly say that I enjoyed myself in Rome a little bit more. I think my opinion might be a bit biased, though, because my welcome to the city was at all the image of Italy I had, and it was not the version I preferred. While searching for an ATM, there was a flash of lightening that filled the piazza with the most intense white light from lightening I've ever seen, and the thunder followed so quickly after and so loudly I thought for a moment that the small plaza was being bombed. So, as those WWII elementary school videos instructed me, I ducked, covered, and kissed my butt goodbye. Fortunately, there had not been a bombing and my duck and cover greatly entertained two homeless men. Then, the rain started, which was not a problem until I realized that Italian streets are prone to puddles, and my shoes were not waterproof. Then the rain turned into snow, and the snow into hail- all within the ten minutes it took me to get to the ATM and back. So, as much as the architecture and art and people of Firenze were lovely, I had cold, wet feet for the rest of my time there, despite my efforts of protecting my feet by stealing the hostel's trash bags and wrapping my feet in them.

So I returned home to Lausanne, ecstatic to be in my own bed, eating food other than bread, cheese and apples, and away from those consistently late Italian trains. Waiting for me in my email box was a message instructing me to call Cal Sate Long Beach Housing. I did, and learned that I was offered the position of Resident Coordinator back in the Halls! Yay! To explain the job, I will be staying at Long Beach one extra year to supervise, train, evaluate, determine, develop, assist, check in/out, and coordinate residents, Resident Assistants, and Student Assistants. There are a bunch of other verbs I could yank from the Coord. application to try to describe it, but roughly, it's a promotion in which I will be able to be an RA for the RA's and have more responsibilities.

So after this amazing week, it felt like there could be nothing wrong at all in the world. Then I realized that classes were starting back up, and I had an essay to write. So, at this very moment, I am not a traveler nor a coordinator in Long Beach. I am just an American student in Switzerland with a whole lot of homework to do.

Joyeuses Pâques

To start off celebrations for the Easter holiday, I attended a "Chasse des Oeufs" (Easter Egg hunt) this past Wednesday. Between my friend Nora and I, we found probably about 80% of all the eggs hidden in the woods of UNIL's campus. Unfortunately, this hunt had a rather unhelpful misnomer in that we were supposed to be looking for chocolate bunnies, and not eggs. As a result, no bunnies were found by our team. To console ourselves after our embarrassing loss and sad show of American athleticism in Bunny-finding (despite my previous experience with a runaway pet rabbit) Nora and I returned home, our pockets overflowing with eggs, and made homemade Italian-style hot chocolate. We gave our leftovers to an thankful and impressed Fang. We chocked up our day as a near complete success then, because if we can impress a Swiss with our chocolate-working skills, how bad could the world be?

In a sharing of cultures, I have introduced near to all guests in our apartment to a little game called Dutch Blitz. To my surprise, Nora knew the game, and even owned a deck of the cards herself. When I asked her how she came to discover the wonderful world of Blitz (in French: Bleetz), she told me about the coworker who introduced her to the game. Turns out, that worker is a girl I knew in Mrs. Loomis's 2nd grade class in Erie! It's a small world after all. . .

Spring break has started, so a pot of cheese fondue and a trip to Geneva were in order. I saw the famous jet d'eau and played checkers on a life-size checkerboard. It was fun being a tourist, and good practice because Heidi and I are headed for Italy tomorrow! For one week we will explore Florence and Rome. I still need to make my list of things to do for an "Audrey Hepburn Roman Holiday," but more urgently, I need to start making Easter Dinner. Hedi and I have elected to host a fêtes de Pâques for the Americans who are not able to go home for the weekend to visit their families for Easter like all the other European exchange students. An evening of bread, vegetables, nearly $20 ham sandwich slices and about $5 worth of (1600 grams) of chocolate fondue. Grocery store prices may be high for the healthy food, but my chocolate is only one step away from Free Dirt, which makes it a very happy, chocolate-y and snowy Easter. So, all in all, spring break has been and still promises to be a very fun-filled and a welcome break from classes.

Travelings

I crossed the border to France exactly one week ago. However, as beautiful as Lyon was, it didn't quite feel like I was in the France my high school textbooks always depicted. Nobody wore yellow cardigans tied over their shoulders, carrying baguettes as they roamed about the city streets quoting Apollinaire and MCSolaar. In fact, except for the (rather limited) presence of French flags, and the aggressiveness of the drivers, I felt almost as if I were back home in Switzerland. Unlike the stereotype, the people were very welcoming and tried to practice their English with Heidi and me, even when we insisted on speaking in French. So although I had a wonderful time, I must admit that I still don't feel like I've been to France. The best way I know to describe the feeling is the same as how you don't usually feel much older on your birthday.


If Chicago is the States' Windy City, then Lyon is France's. As Hedi and I climbed the hill to the Basilique Notre-Dame de Fourvière, I was knocked off balance twice. We figured the best idea was to continue climbing until we reached the highest point, where we faced our backs to the wind and let ourselves fly, even if only for a second at a time. The news might be reporting about the unnatural Hurricane-force winds sweeping across Europe, but I still like to believe that it is always like that there. It gives the city a bit more spunk. The basilica was beautiful, of course, and looked like it could have been the setting for Cinderella's ball, but the wind was more more interactive.

Also interactive was the Museum of Food in Vevey, Switzerland, otherwise known as the world headquarters of Nestlé. While the museum focused mainly on chocolate (we are in Switzerland), there were many different and enlightening exhibits about health and the history of diet. I, however, preferred the room where I could run on a giant hamster wheel, then get off, press a button on the wall and be rewarded with chocolate. I may be a lab rat, but at least I am a happy one.


The next morning was Sunday, and for the first time, I was able to attend a church service. It was help in a lovely little church called "Chapelle de la Gare." The building reminded me of Friar Tuck's Church in Disney's Robin Hood. It was so nice singing worship song, and very refreshing not only to have new songs, but to have them in French. After church, there was a potluck, which in French is called a Canadian Picnic, and I with a few other American girls made friends with a kind Dutch couple. We discussed Russian theology (well, they discussed and I listened for the most part) over chicken, pasta salad and spice cake. Also at church, I accidentally brushed my leg against the radiator, so now I have three four-inch long red lines up the back of my calf. It kinda looks like Wolverine clawed me.


Although I wouldn't quite call it homesickness, I am definitely starting to feel a bit strange being here. Facebook has become my enemy, because in looking at it, I have to face the truth that my conceited side wants to deny: Life continues on without me. I'm not trying to sound all exhortative and preachy, and I don't want to be lame and cliché, but it is hard to constantly feel so distant. I love being here, and I don't regret my decision to come at all, but it would just be so much easier to have my home friends here with me to share everything. So, I've come to the conclusion that we have two choices: 1. I hop on that bus in France that had a sign that said "United States," or 2. All of you need to cease having fun right now. No really, just stop. Thanks.


See you in June, when fun may resume!

Nobody's a Cowboy. . .

A snowflake fell on my nose today. I haven't seen snow actually falling outside of Disneyland since I was ten or eleven years old, so it was fantastic to watch. The snowflakes were really small and they melted as soon as they hit the ground, but they tickled when they landed on my face and they danced on their way down.

Also, I am going to be in France in less than twelve hours, and I can't wait!

Nobody's a cowboy, but nobody knows.

Leap Year Day

Happy Leap Year! I didn't realize that it was a leap year until I happily went to my calender this morning (because it's just darn exciting turning the calender page to the new month) and saw that 29. But this is even better than flipping the page! Is Leap Year Day a holiday? I think that it should be! I will spend the rest of the day inventing Leap Year Day traditions and activities. Let me know if you have any suggestions.

On Mountains and Museums

I realized that I enjoyed a nine-week winter break, and I am out of practice at being a student, much less in a French speaking classroom. Luckily for me, my Monday classes are overwhelmingly forgiving, despite their foreign-language instruction. For example, my "language and Culture" class, which I was highly looking forward to, as perhaps an introduction to the role of language in various societies across the world, has spend the past two lessons discussing how well the Swiss Army knife exemplifies the Swiss people and how drinking Ovalmatine Chocolate may save your life if your are caught in a blizzard. Ah well, c'est la vie suisse.

Last Thursday, I was very much enjoying my American Literature Survey Course. Not just because it is taught in English, but because the professor, a lovely woman from New England, reads the texts to the class, carefully pronouncing each word, treating each phrase with so much care and respect that it is as if she were telling us the most wonderful story ever written to the class. It reminds me of the way my Aunt Colleen used to read Poe to my cousins and me at our All-Girl Sleepovers, in the way that she becomes the one person in the world responsible for conveying the beauty of the written word. Anyways, I was enjoying her reading of "Young Goodman Brown" when I glanced out the window and saw the Alps for the very first time. It has been so foggy and cloudy (and actually a bit smoggy, which I did not expect to see in Switzerland) that before then, I only just knew that the mountains were hiding across the lake. Now I can happily say that I have seen the Alps, even if not perfectly clearly, and have been mesmerized by their serene beauty.

I visited Ouchy this weekend and found it rather similar to Dana Point Harbor. Just with less pollution and fewer boats. And to clarify, it is not pronounced like the boo-boo, ouchie, but Oo-shee. There, I went to the museum of photography and visited a three story exhibit of Edward Steichen. I wish that I could comment more positively on this, but I had great hopes for the museum, and I'm afraid that I was slightly less than impressed. Not by the museum itself, as it was a handsome building atop a hill overlooking the lake, but by the lack of diversity of photographers. Well, I guess I could always go visit the Louvre.

Last night all of my flatmates had guests over, so we had a proper collection of internationals, a melange of young people from the US, Switzerland, Russia, China, France and Austria. I love the fact that I have been able to escape the obsession with celebrities and Access Hollywood, and even more that I have traded that with the possibility to hear stories of different experiences of the world. For example, I had never met anyone before yesterday that could tell me firsthand was it was like to experience the Soviet collapse. Or to have faced racism while backpacking through Europe. Or come from Vienna, but never heard of the Von Trapp Family Singers. (Ok, maybe that one doesn't quite fit, but I'm still putting it in my list.) It makes me feel smarter, more culturally aware, which is pretty sweet, but really that's what this whole thing is about, right?

Lessons and (or on) Swiss Chocolate

I have been craving something sweet, like some type of fruit candy or a funfetti cupcake, or a cinnamon bun, because almost everything desert here is Swiss chocolate. But I still love my chocolate, and haven't been able to deny myself my daily dose! However, I have not been impressed with Swiss Hot Chocolate yet, as so far all I've been given is a mug of boiled milk with a side package of cocoa powder not even large enough to turn the milk very brown.

Today, I went to my Bilingualism class to find that in that specific lecture hall, there was no lecture on Bilingualism, but instead a small class of people doing Literary Analysis of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde and Pygmalion. So, I decided to stay. The prof was a very nice Irish lady who introduced herself as the head of the exchange students for the department, so there was no problem in my being part of the class. Luck has finally come to take pity on me!



I am taking a "cours du danse" here as well, just because. Yesterday evening, I discovered that Rock and Roll is very interesting hybrid of swing and jive. The instructor kept switching CDs between Elvis's 'Jailhouse Rock' and Soft Cell's 'Tainted Love,' which, of course, makes perfect sense. At least it's fun to hear dance lessons instructed in French. If I could, I would have all dance lessons across the world taught in French because the compliments sound so much nicer, and the criticisms are so threatening that you become completely petrified to find out what happens if you don't correct yourself immediately.

Well, I got all sorted with Olivier, so I know what legal stuff I have to do so I'm not thrown into a Swiss prison for not declaring myself with the Office for Citizen Control. However, somehow in my papers being lost, I was put into the Economics department, so now I must re-enroll with the Linguistics and French as a Foreign Language Departments. Mom told me to make lists of everything I have to do, but I already have papers stacked two feet high all over my desk, so I'm afraid that if I make lists, then I won't worry about remembering everything, then lose the papers, forget to go somewhere, and be thrown into a Swiss prison.

Just now, Gian was late for class, but still took time to make a full, balanced and well prepared traditional Swiss lunch of cooked carrots, boiled potatoes and lamb with sauce. Then he bolted for the door, because you cannot be late in Switzerland. But then he came running back in to tell me, "This morning, I sold 23 pairs of socks! Business is good!" Then he ran out again. This is a perfect example of my Swiss experience so far.

Sometimes I feel I've got to
Run away; I've got to
Get away
un, deux, trois et quatre, cinq et six.

One Day in One Sentence

I was upset to discover that only US viewers may watch Lost on ABC online, but then a man who was alone on the metro started smiling to himself all of a sudden, like he remembered something happy.

Settling In...

Finally I understand why people took so many of those pictures at the Gare in the movie Amélie. It's because you need a passport photo for absolutely everything here! The metro pass, student ID card, ESN card, your visa, your Migros card, and of course your passport. I thought that bringing one would be enough- I was wrong! I need to stop by the Lausanne-Flon Metro stop tomorrow to take more pictures! I'll be so tired of seeing my own face in little 1"x1"squares by the end of this semester!

Today was a good day. It started off the coldest morning yet; it made my ears feel like they were being sliced off by the wind. I went to la rencontre d’accueil, or the Introduction to the University for exchange students. It made everything so much clearer- I actually know what I need to do now! I got there two hours early, so along with four other girls (a German, an Austrian, a Pole and a Swiss-German), we stopped for thé and chocolat chaud, then took a walk along Lac Léman. We found the sheep and the elusive donkeys. We also saw some swans, who were as beautiful and as graceful as anything, or at least they were until one almost came on shore to attack us, which is when we ran away.



The information was helpful and I was feeling great until it came time for me to pick up my student ID card, which was nowhere to be found. I stood in line after line until I met Olivier, who upon hearing that I was a student from Cal State Long Beach he exclaimed: "You are Elizabeth! I have waited and waited for you! We were so worried that you wouldn't come!" Now, the whole "worrying" thing usually implies some sort of problem, and I definitely had a problem. Somehow, almost all of my paperwork had gotten lost in the mail, or left in an office, or something very mysterious and very not-Swiss. So, I have been temporarily put on hold until I can meet with Olivier on Monday and get my ID card and register for classes and all.

Cool thing about Swiss classes- you don't actually register for about 3 weeks into the semester. We get to attend as many classes as we want, without attendance taken, then choose which ones we liked best at the end of the three weeks.

When I got home, my two flatmates had a surprise for me: pink tulips, a Black Forest cake, and a bottle of "girly" champagne, as Gian called it. So we had a tiny little 10-minute fête. Then Gian left for work (not the sock company), and Heidi and I made spaghetti with meat sauce by slicing up one of my frozen hamburger patties. Then we brought a peace offering of Swiss chocolate to the girls that live upstairs, and had a pleasant evening with our new friends.

Bonjour Lausanne!

I have arrived in Switzerland!! After my first flight from LAX to Heathrow was three hours late, I missed my connecting flight in London. So, I got to spend some time at Heathrow, learning that the British have signs that say "Give Way" instead of "Yield," and that the airport is not as horrendous as it has been described to me, but actually very clean and easy to navigate. Anyways, by the time I finally got Geneva, I had missed my train to Lausanne. So I waited for the next train, and realized that the Gare makes you pay half a franc to use the rest room. If you do not have exactly a half-franc, you may not get change, and you may not pee. So instead of wasting time moping about having to hold it, I asked a friendly custodian to teach me how to use the payphone. Besides, I needed a bit of extra time to get two suitcases and a carry-on bag (totaling about 30 kilos) onto a train by my 5foot3 self.

Once in Lausanne, I was guided onto two different metro trains and one bus to my new home, la Maison des Ochettes. Tricky thing, though, you need a key to get into your room, and my rendez-vous with a certain house manager to obtain said key was called off, though not to my knowledge. So after waiting outside on le Chemin de Berges for about 20 minutes, I called to find out that my key was happily locked away in a safe in one of the buildings. So, I got the secret safe code, got my key, and let myself into my apartment.

From my window I see a pleasant little creek, a rusty swing set, a tall apartment complex about a 1/4 mile away, and a row of California-gardener hacked trees. Instead of hiring gardeners, my school has adopted a flock of sheep which they herd around and have them graze on different lawns each week. I've heard that there are donkeys that roam about as spare lawn-mowers as well, but they have eluded me thus far. Lac Leman (Lake Geneva) is peaceful, with it's slate blue-gray water that comes in to the shore in shwishing one-and-a-half inch waves.



People here check their watches so much that I really wouldn't be surprised if they started replacing "How are you?" with "What time is it?" They have all been lovely, very welcoming and patient. Patient seems almost paradoxical, because everything is run on time, and if you are late, then you're out of luck with no hope, (except for the next train of course). But, the way they explain that your situation really is unfortunate is very kind. They are all so proud of their country and their Swiss-ness. I've never heard of a country put some sort of sunblock on their apples so the flag is "naturally" grown into the apple skins, but sure enough, they do that here! The people I have met so far have all been very polite and good-humored as they explain to me that the Swiss way is not my way (yet) but I will come to see that it is the best. This message isn't condescending or critical, just a simple truth that there is nothing better than Swiss life.

Stephanie is my Partnership Program Partner through X-change UNIL. She is my tour guide to Lausanne, the one who can answer all my Swiss Common Sense questions, and the one who helped me find Ochettes without panicking that I was lost and that my French was unintelligible. She gave me a box of Lindt chocolate and socks with Swiss flags on them when I arrived. She is really nice, and actually, quite beautiful. In trying to Swiss-ize me, she now refuses to speak English unless I am completely without an idea about what is being said to me.



I live in an apartment with one other girl and two boys. I have my own room, though. The girl is Heidi, and didn't think about being a Heidi traveling to Switzerland until someone mentioned Shirley Temple to her. She is from Maryland and studies architecture. Needing to go to Lyon to pick up her Visa, Hiedi has invited me to go with her in about a month. She also wants to travel to Holland and Italy. I believe that I've found my travel buddy!

The guy in the first room is named Gian (John). He is very sociable and is always just coming into the room to offer advice on which is the best supermarket and which castles are the nicest to visit. He speaks English well, and he nicely corrects my French when I mix up genders and adjectives. He also started a company selling men's socks, and keeps thousands of plain black men's socks in his room.

The third flatmate is Fang. We have not met yet, but his name has promise.

The metro trains are really smooth and fast. There is no snow on the ground, but it has been about 30-32 degrees Fahrenheit the past few days. My favorite swiss chocolate so far is the Lindt Classic Cresta. I have not tried any hot chocolate yet. Prices here are crazy expensive. At the grocery store, (which is called Migros) 1 raw chicken breast in the little saran-wrapped thing is about $9. But, I supermarket swept and got a big bag of frozen chicken patties and a big bag of ground beef for about $13 each. That was good news. There is a company called Budget, and it's going to save my tummy from shrivilling up in emptiness. They sell cheap food, kinda like Target has Market Pantry, and Costco has Kirkland. I went to a Budget-less grocery store called Coop, and a half-sized bottle of shampoo was almost ten bucks.

I haven't gotten lost in the city yet, but everything is so tall and there are so many alley ways and look-alike staircases that it's only a matter of time before I do. So far my favorite place has been the little creek (of which I do not know the name yet) right where the Metro 1 line stops as Dorigny by the University. Either that, or this unbelievably wide tree by "Le Banane."

The toilet paper here is light blue and has little raised bumps on it, so it looks just like that neck-napkin that dentists put on you so you don't spit on yourself. My apartment is pretty quiet, maybe because we don't all know each other yet, maybe we are all just kinda boring. Fang came in once (we think) because we heard his door open and close, but it has been about 12 hours since then, and there hasn't been a sound. Did he teleport out? Mayyybe. Did he die? Possible. Did he fall asleep? Likely. Did he never actually come in and now our apartment is starting to go 1408 on us and make us hear ghosts?. . . Even more likely.

The elevator is shady, to speak of it positively. You press 4, and you get to Level 5. So you think, at least, because there is a gigantic 5 on the wall when the elevator doors open. But no, they accidentally painted a 5 on the fourth level, and decided not to change it. That was helpful on move in. The first time I got in the elevator, when Stephanie was helping my take my bags up to my room, all the lights went out and we went (rather quickly) downwards. We ended up in the basement. Jenette would have peed her pants. Two people were in the basement, luckily and showed us the correct way of pushing the buttons. Those two actually turned out to be Gian and Heidi. Oh! If you want to get to the roof, you have to put your room key in this unmarked key slot, turn it a quarter to the left, then press the roof button. Otherwise the lights go out, and you are sped to the basement. A giant gorilla dog lives down there. No, I'm not kidding-- the house manager Monsieur Duranot keeps his fuzzy little mini-horse down there.

Overall, it has been quite an adventure so far. I go to my university's Day of Welcome tomorrow, and hopefully will find out there what classes I am supposed to show up for on Monday, because as of yet, no one has been able to tell me how to register for any schooling at this school. Oh well. At least I'm learning to weigh my carrots at the grocery store before I get to the checker if I don't want to be grumbled at in French, German and Italian all at the same time.

I have been 21 for 39 Swiss minutes now, so I think it would be okay if I unwrapped my gift from Auntie Freda, and opened my "Do-Not-Open-Until-Your-Birthday" cards.

Bonne Nuit!