Well, not that close yet. Voulez-vous coucher avec moi, ce soir? Did i mention i took French last semester? The struggle was real you guys. Luckily reading it is easier, so I’m okay at restaurants and the grocery store but if someone dares to ask me a question, I cowardly mutter “un peu français” and go hide under a bridge where i belong. I never hear people speaking English here in Strasbourg and its oddly refreshing. Last weekend we all went to Paris and I heard more English than french, because of all the tourists and it was kind of off putting. People here can speak English a little but every menu, street sign, label, is in french so its good practice for me. We are roasting here, its been over 90 degrees this week, still a break from Austin, which is probably in the 3 digits by now. There is even comfort in knowing I won’t encounter a flying roach. I keep thinking about this one episode of I Love Lucy, ( I want that sentence to be on the program at my funeral by the way, ahem) where shes in France and goes to this restaurant and gets escargot and she doesn’t know what to do with the little tongs so she just puts them on her nose, she also asks the waiter for ketchup. I get my life from that show still. That scene sums up most of our groups behavior in Strasbourg. Tonight was Fête de la Musique. I’m used to hearing live music, but all the music here was so diverse. Literally every 5 feet there’d be someone playing African music, then Brazilian, Indian, salsa dancers, techno. More than what I expected which has been the theme of this experience.
There’s a bus, much like Mega and Boltbus that’s really cheap, so me and one of closest friends here are going to Basel (which I keep mispronouncing as basil) tomorrow. Its in Switzerland, on the border of France and Germany. Tomorrow will be a nice break after spending most of the day in the library writing a 15 paper due in a few days….Basel!
Watching the cursor blink, I’m SO good at that. Another thing I excel at is avoiding possible good things in my life for no good reason. Some real 90’s era sitcom shit happened to me this past week and taught me once again that the universe is amusingly in total control at all times. Matt, a frequent Soup Peddler customer, gave me his phone number recently, we chat and chuckle a lot when he comes in so I wasn’t surprised but still overly nervous to actually call him. After a month of procrastinating as well as role playing with my friends about what to say IF he actually answered the phone I called him last Monday, we talked for a few minutes and I suggested we go out for ice cream soon. Exhale, I called him, finally at 30 years old I can call a man, if you knew me you’d know that congratulations are most definitely in order. The next day I get a call from my friend Regina, I was surprised because she now lives in London but is in town for her moms funeral, we make plans to get together, once again I suggest ice cream. I guess I’m all about the soft serve these days idk, I’m like Mrs. Softee or something *shrugs*. Later that same day I get a text from a random number about going out for ice cream the next day, I assume it’s Regina because I just talked to her a few hours before and I knew I had limited time with her so we texted back and forth throughout the evening and made plans to hang out Wednesday afternoon. I didn’t save Regina’s number because she was using her friends phone and I didn’t save Matt’s yet either…….So here comes Wednesday, I text “Regina” asking for her address so I can go pick her up, because clearly she doesn’t have a car, she’s been living in London riding the Tube, duhh! I look up the address and its conveniently right by me…..and the Soup Peddler, I was relieved because Regina is from South Austin so I assumed whatever family member or friend she is staying with would live around there too so I was definitely happy to not have to drive across town at 4:30 in the afternoon. I throw on an old t-shirt and coochie cutters and drive about 10 minutes, get to the house, ponder walking up to the door but instead just text “I’m here”. About a minute later someone comes to my car…..but it’s not who I’m expecting. It was not Regina, it was Matt who I was texting the whole time. I was sweating so much!! I started frantically looking through my phone wondering what the hell I said to this man, there is no telling with my sense of humor. After the extreme initial shock I just smirked at how funny and helpful life has the possibility of forcing us to do things. We had a good time, we talked and laughed and made plans to hang out this coming week. If I actually knew I was texting him I never would’ve agreed to hang out so casually, I would’ve put it off FOR NO GOOD REASON! I literally have to be tricked into dating. Sigh that’s some funny shit. Also I painted my toe nails blue today.
Remember in ‘The Spongebob Movie’ that came out in the early ’00’s? In the beginning he wakes up and he has one of those box calendars where you rip each day off well that day he got up and ripped the previous date off and the present day was March 7th, which is today and also ahem, my birthday. My 30th birthday……isn’t that supposed to mean something? I do feel different but in a great way, I feel really fortunate but even at times when I’m sad and pissy I still know that I’m fortunate but I’ve been feeling especially positive lately. Last night my heart was so happy because I went out to dinner with friends, one in particular came to Austin just for my b’day and I am truly so thankful for that.I just want to feel the love you guys! I am not afraid of getting older, there was a time when i was though. When I was around 12 my mom like sat me down for one of those serious-ish-talks and told me that I should start wearing a training bra #mortified. I was so freaked out, I was like any other tween except I DID NOT want to grow up, I knew it kind of sucked, I’m psychic. But I’ve turned over a new crunchy leaf and I feel no apprehension about anything that has to do with my age or all the logistics and feels of getting older. I’m a very late bloomer so sure if you’re counting my life chronologically I am 30 years old but I’m slapping my knee keeled over when the ketchup bottle makes a fart noise so there.
Remember your very first friend? Rose was mine, i met her when i was 4 years old in preschool. I didn’t see or think much of her after that but 10 years later we would end up going to the same high school only to maybe mumble a few words to each other, if that. That should’ve been an indication to something that i have recently learned, that keeping in touch is hard. Sure we were kids, little kids but still, even now as somewhat of an adult i am realizing just how difficult it is, not only having a genuine connection with someone but continuing to reach out and you know actually be friends. I never knew how hard it was to make new friends until i was an adult and moved away from my home town (here we go with the woe-is-me new girl to the city story, so annoying). I had lots of friends in high school and stayed close with most of them after, when you live near each other keeping in touch isn’t so hard. It wasn’t until i was in an unfamiliar place with new people did i realize how many people don’t keep in touch that you thought would and how hard and frustrating it is to try and make friends with adults. Its so easy when you’re young, a few common interests and you’re besties, as an adult not only are you jaded, you’re fucking busy! Where was i going with this? Oh yeah talk to your friends! Reach out to people! It indicates that you genuinely care, like you actually have a heart or something, its nice. One of my favorite ways of communication is writing letters. My mom used to be in the army and when i was growing up she would always write letters to her army friends, that’s how they communicated with their families when they were away and that’s how they all kept in touch after they were out of the military. When i moved away from home my mom would always write me letters and i didn’t respond at first because i still talked to her on the phone almost everyday and i thought the idea of having a ‘pen pal’ was kind of corny, didn’t we do that in 3rd grade? BUT i asked a long time friend from my hometown who had moved to Seattle to exchange addresses and i finally realized how much i really enjoy writing (shocking) letters! Its honestly therapeutic, you get to say whatever you want with no interruptions and you get to buy pretty stationary! (I am my mothers daughter.) I was thinking about my Seattlelite friend and it blew my mind when i realized that i hadn’t seen her face in over 2 years, it didn’t seem like that much time had passed because we actually reach out to each other. I even went to visit her a few weeks ago and got to actually see where Ive been mailing all these letters to! Distance is a motherfucker, but it doesn’t have to be. If writing long letters isn’t your thing you could mail them a funny postcard, text them that inside joke you guys used to die laughing at many moons ago, or call them! Letting someone know you are on their mind and that you genuinely care about how they are doing means so much. I know that everyone is busy but i firmly believe that you’re never too busy for something that’s important to you, remember that the next time you sign someones yearbook.