On Anti-Americanism, Politics, and Being in DC

Ok, no one likes Bush. The U.S. has gotten the memo. During my last year in France I stopped being American after receiving constant bashing at bars, dinner parties and the classroom. I started telling people I was from Finland. Don't get me wrong, I like my country. The U.S. has some good things going for it. I mean the sheer diversity and liberty in the states is hard to beat (and yes, in many many ways I think France is MORE conservative than the U.S. - but that's another soapbox for another day). BUT after being the blunt of countless jokes and enduring mindless questions/comment (e.g. But you cannot be American - you are not fat! Do you eat McDonalds every day? Do you love Bush and want to make his babies? I liked you but I don't think I can associate with an imperialist pig), I decided it would be much easier to be from somewhere else. People believed me. I didn't encounter a single person who spoke Finnish - although I wish I had, I could have learned a thing or two.

Anyway, so there's no escaping American politics in Washington. I mean, Washington IS American politics. I couldn't be more dissatisfied with a place. Every person you meet wants to know your political affiliation (I'm independent, thanks), your alma mater (Penn State) and, of course, your opinion on Obama (I voted for him, but my vote as absentee thus didn't count...). When people ask these questions, I can't pull out the old "I'm a foreigner" trick anymore. I have to have an opinion for the masses. My problem is that unless you've earned my respect, I don't feel like debating with you; because friendly chats over drinks usually turn into debates. I digress.

Goodbye Paris

Paris was lovely, comme d'hab. Everything about the city makes you either want to puke or do a song/dance routine. I love Paris even though she's usually cold, wet and gray (Sunny Paris only exists in the movies). My Parisian friends are some of the best in the world. The food is oh so yummy. The parks, the boulevards, the shops, the formalities and kisses, the bomb sirens on the first wednesday of every month - yep, that's my city.

Goodbye Paris! I'm looking forward to NOT stepping in Merde any time soon. :)

Artichoke Heaven

There ARE artichokes in Australia. At least that's what the internet says!!! Now all I need to do is find evidence of plantains...

Artichoke

While I might not have medical insurance, I am eating well. :)

Paris = great, cheap, fresh food.

Tonight's menu:
-Atlantic cod with a creme fraiche curry sauce
-Steamed artichokes
-Mashed potatos with spinach and shallots
-Tomme Noir with strawberry/abricot jam
-Fresh Baguette
-Eggplant caviar
-Tangy yogurt
-Flan
-Three types of red wine - I'm sure they were under 4euros a piece.

Umm, fed 4 people for under 25euros. Nice. ...Although the company would have been worth any price.

Silly Me

I thought that since STI/HIV testing was totally free in France, there should be similar services in the States too. Silly silly me. Cervical cancer... yeah, can't get a cheap check-up for that either. Oww, and not having health insurance bites. I probably should have planned two weeks in Paris to get medical stuff done mais c'est la vie. Medical tourism takes time.

One would think that as one of the most advanced countries out there, we would have great testing services. But because everything is based on money, people get screwed. Ok, yes, we have Planned Parenthood - but still.

Why are American health care costs so high??? I talked to this attorney recently. He mentioned that changing the legal structure in the states (especially medical lawsuits) would probably drastically reduce costs. Doctors can't afford to be cheap b/c they have to be swaddled in malpractice insurance up to their eyeballs.

Doctor you didn't tell me eating 2 bags of peanut butter cups everyday would make me fat. Now I'm fat. Now I have diabetes! Doctor, I'm gonna sue you for 3 million! Oh you wanna settle out of court to keep your name outta the paper? Ok, fine. I'll take 5 million! YAY!

Paris Today

Paris is. It breathes. It shurgs. It lives. I'm glad I came. I'm ready. I think I'm ready. I want to see the southern hemisphere. To see New Zealand. Australia. The rest of the world. Paris will always have my heart. Feels like home. I was so sick of it when I left. And sad. Conflicted. I'm so calm now. Excited. I have good friends here. (yes this IS a shout out to MR and Jose and Mira) They will be missed. They're in my heart of hearts.

I'm ready to be with a man I truly care about. Ready for kangaroo steak and trying to understand Australian; I'm told Australians don't really speak English. I'm so ready to put my arms around my kiwi. Probably not going to be smooth sailing but I'm ready to give the country and our coupleship a good go.

On other news, I had chocolate fondue tonight. OMG!!!

Paris Tomorrow

I'm leaving for Paris tomorrow. Bittersweet arrival. I called my French bank today. I blocked the Parisian landlord from withdrawing funds. Pretty standard. I hope I get my security deposit back. The entire thing. I need it.

Sam and I talked finances this morning. He's feeling pinched. Money truly does make the world go 'round. I fear living with him for too long. Everyone suggests to get out as quickly as possible. I agree. It's probably best that way. Going from zero to sixty in seconds. I wonder how it will be to see him. Will he bring flowers? He threatened to bring flowers.

He asked if I'd be his girlfriend. I agreed. I'm a bit afraid to tell anyone. Especially Paris people. Silly me. I'm a bit afraid he doesn't mean it. What does a title change? Nothing much. Am I happy? Yeah. I was getting used to the single and ready to mingle idea though.

Slumdog Millionaire

Slumdog Millionaire is a great film. If you have a chance to see it, please do. Your cynical soul might depend it.

Happy Go Lucky

If you're having a rough day/week/month, go see Happy Go Lucky. Sally Hawkins does a stellar job of being the flawed everyday woman. It's good. You'll like it. And even if you don't like, the film will stay on the brain. Think train wreck of happiness - the kind you can't peel your eyes away from.

Oh, and if you're having a bad day, go buy some shoes. I put three pairs on a credit card and couldn't feel better. One pair has 4.5 inch heels. I justified the purchases as being career enhancing.

Freakout

Today was a major freakout day. There are 38 days until I leave for Australia and 9 days until I leave for Paris. I have no freaking idea what I'm doing. I'm beginning to think I'm crazy.

I could conceivably just stay in Paris. It couldn't be too hard. I would try to crash with people until I got on my feet. Healthcare is affordable and yeah, life would be goodish... except when I consider those student loans!!! Mofos. Anyway, so Paris really isn't a valid option at this point. So it's either stay in Washington or continue to Canberra. I vote Canberra.

Sure Sam could drop me like a stinky skunk - in which case I'd be penniless, homeless and thousands of miles away from any support network that might take me in - but I'm optimistic that he won't. Call me naive, but aside from not commiting thing, he's a good man. Sigh.

My Parents Are Rockstars

So my mom sent a sweet little email yesterday. "Just to let you know doll, we paid your Wells Fargo loan." Say what? Oh gosh, you are the savior parents!!!

Today I am thankful for those two caring souls. Bless.

Just Another Natalie

I felt bad. I wanted to take it back. Who am I to demand things from you when your world is falling apart? Was I being selfish?

The short answer is yes, I'm being selfish. I'm working in my own self interest. I want to be valued. I think you should value me. I'm willing to pour myself into you if you would only commit to valuing me. It shouldn't be a something to ponder. Izzy=fabulous=commit. If not, I can only assume I'm just another Natalie.

So how to be friends? Well, at the moment, that doesn't take much imagination. Be there for him during this difficult time. Listen. Not divulge the intimate details of my life. ...Mander suggested I should start dating. Perhaps I will. I've never been on a date; sounds like fun though.

Veterans Day

Changing of the guard at the tomb of the unknown soldier. Arlington National Cemetary. 16:00.

I watched a young man in military garb hold the hand of the woman beside him and sob. He had no legs. His right ear was mangled. All I could do is stare. I wanted to cry too.

Ambiguous Couple

Sometimes you have to draw a line in the sand. I'm not particularly good at standing up for myself. Great at telling others they need to be firm but am horrible in the self-execution department.

I truly care about Sam. He's a unique individual with a most intelligent, caring soul but sometimes he's merely talk. For all his talk of apologies, desires and dreams, I have no proof that he actually means any of it. The wise book says that you "will know them by their actions and their fruit." Our relationship has been as potential roommates, casual friends, casual fling getters, involved lovers, and now the ambiguous couple. I'm tired of playing games. I'm moving to OZ in less than two months. He says he's excited. He says he's trying to find a place for us to live should I decide to live with him. He says he cares. I have never demanded anything from him. This has been my mistake and my downfall. A woman who demands little gets little in return. So I demanded. I want a title. I want to be his girlfriend. After a year, he should know if he wants to be with me. I'm tired of being in the background. I'm tired of being second rate. I'm tired of being the constant bitch to whom he can come for comfort and fun before going off on another conquest. I am worth more than that. Not to sound tacky, but I am valuable and my price should be high.

I told him that either I arrive in OZ as his girlfriend or as a friend. There will be no in between. I will act according to his decision. He said he'll "think about it." All right lover. It sounds like you've made your choice. We've had a rollercoaster ride of a journey together. It has been fun and horrible and memorable. I will always love you but I'm moving on. I will arrive in OZ as your friend, nothing more.

I AM

I am pathetic and tired. The only person I want to talk to is a million miles away relaxing on a sunny beach. Balls!

Karma

I know I shouldn't gloat but my old future flatmates just got jipped by their new flatmate (my replacement).

All worked out for me in the end as I'm going to OZ, and I harbor no ill will, BUT sometimes it feels good to know that I'm not the only one who gets the shaft.

Third Couch

I've moved on to another friend's couch. Friend number three is not charging me but I can't stay long. What to do? My parents want me to come home. I would be fed, live rent free and enjoy my parent's company. However they live in the country and I would not have access to a car. I could ride with my parents in the morning but with their work schedules, I only job I could probably find is something in stingy hospitality. Screw that. I've paid my 6 year dues to the hospitality world. I'm not yet that desperate.

I have the money to rent a new place but the trouble is finding one. I had found a great place with cool chicks and their cute little doggies but they neglected to tell their landlord about a new roomie. It ended up being a no go situation. I'm confident SOMETHING will turn up. Argh!

Visa in Hand

I applied for and received my Australian work and holiday visa in less than 12 hours! Compared to French migration, this seems like a cakewalk.

The Housing Search

I would argue that Washington more expensive than Paris for poor people with budgets.

Toodles Mon Coeur

Goodbye Paris! Hello Australia!

Paris, I love you. The decision to move is nothing personal. In fact it's thanks to your enticements that I've made this choice. You gave me him. Randomly.

I doubt he and I would have met if we both hadn't been poor and (nearly) homeless. We responded to the same ad for an anglophone flatmate. I thought he was silly. He giggled a lot. Three months later we were casually dating. Eleven months later I've decided to hop on a plane for the other side of the world to be with him AND have a new adventure.

Paris it's because of you. Thanks and à très bientôt!

Moving Forward

There was an explosion of hurt, timidity, pain, passion and fear.

I love you!

He said it. He said three words I never expected him say. He said 'I love you."

I believe him. I cannot doubt him anymore. I've jumped off my cliff of indecision. I'm moving to Australia.

You're wrong

Dear NY Times travel,

The Marais is overrun with tourists. Oberkampf and Belleville are where it's at. Trust me.

Much love,
Izzy.

We Need to Talk

We need to talk baby. I'm not sure how committed you are to this whole me-moving-around-the-world-to-be-with-you thing. Sure you offered to pay for my ticket. You've said that you would LOVE LOVE LOVE for me to come. But have you honestly thought about this? Your freedom would be gone. You would go from social butterfly bachelor to committed boyfriend(?). Go from sleeping around to just sleeping with me. I worry that you like the thought of us rather than the practice. I worry that I will make all the sacrifices (I would still have an awesome time in Oz, but being away from friends, when you're dumped and broken-hearted, would suck). I worry that I will become Natalie or Anais. Natalie was deceived. Anais held on to shadows.

Sometimes I worry that you're addicted to sex. You once told me that the longest you could make it without sex was 9 days. You've also made it clear that you've never cheated on a girlfriend (if Natalie doesn't count). Hmm. Honestly, I think you're not trying. If I asked that you stopped sleeping with others before I arrived, would you? I'm not sure that you're ready to give sex up. Is that asking too much? You once said that my laid-back attitude made it easy for you to see others. My laid-backness hasn't changed but I want something tangible from you. How much is too much to ask?

Are you ready for me? How bad do you want me? Do I hold your attention above all the other fish in the sea? Are you done fishing? I want you all to myself. I won't accept another open relationship. I want you.

Coupledom?

If you were on the brink of moving across the world to be with your lover, what kind of commitment would you demand?

Those Grey Lines

At what point do you tell your boss he is wrong?

I am a young female. While I have a head on my shoulders, I tend to be more timid than my male counterparts. I don't want to be labeled "bitch," "know-it-all," or "haughty." Bosses scare me. I really should get over it.

I had never been a private consultant before. I'm still not sure what private consultants actually do. Basically I was a data entry temp. At $10/hr. I also did academic and public policy research and had to do stats. SPSS kicked my butt. When they asked me to translate French to English, I said no probs mobs but you're going to have to pay me extra for that. The translation was 6000 words. I ended up with only $.08 a word. AND it was English to French. French is NOT my native language. They got a great deal.

Anyway, so my boss gave me some screwed up statistics to work with. Apparently the United States is part of Europe and 10 million Syrians are yearly leaving home. I discretely tried to tell him. No response. Nothing. Oh, and I was explicitly told to use ONLY the statistical information he provided.

He received the results of my research based on his statistics Monday. He flipped. Good thing I was never hired (in fact they never interviewed me but that's another story) because I think I may have been fired. Opps.

I learned a lot guys, thanks! Do you tell all your private consultants that work contracts aren't necessary? I will never make that mistake again. Please pay me!!!

Study Abroad Application Essay

March 29, 2005


"As a student, I realize the impact studying abroad will have on my academic and personal career. Academically, studying abroad will encourage mental growth and exploration while helping me grasp another language and culture. Personally, I will develop skills and global understanding that will help establish rapport in my personal life, as well as among my peers as I pursue my proposed career path. Paris is an incredible city. I look forward to studying in this international metropolitan area while expanding my mind amid the numerous amazing happenings I will undoubtedly experience."

Paris IS an incredible city. It bit into me like a pit bull, wrecking havoc on the skin of my perfect life. ...And those "numerous amazing happenings." Wow. I broke up with my boyfriend of three years, changed career paths, considered radical catholism, and fell head over heels for a cul benit. What fun! Luckily the cul benit thing was one sided as was the catholic zeal. It was time to cut the boyfriend strings. I don't regret the dumpage. Actually both of my significant others were cut off the Zarrouati umbilical cord while in Paris, albeit during different tours. Hmm.

Yes kids, Paris will shake up your life. If only I had known how much....

Stupid Bus

I missed my bus home. Stupid bus.

As we were leaving Union Station, a street preacher yelled in our direction: "Jesus will save you from your sins!" Thanks bud. Somehow my version of 'go and tell the world' does not include yelling at cars.

Must shower. My skin is crawling.

They're Paying Me

I am getting paid to research. I love research like a fat kid like cake. Speaking of cake, I finished off an entire a lovely box mix this morning. Nothing quite like funfetti.

I cannot believe that I ate the entire cake. Similarly, I can't believe that the Big Brain is paying me to think. My brain and stomach are fried. Oh gosh.

To My Lover Who is Sleeping with Others

Normality is not my strong suit. My parents are born-again conversative hippies who grow and hunt their food. I didn't grow up with TV. Thus pop culture references pre-2002 are usually over my head. Sorry but I do not know the words to that Madonna song you're screaming. No, I have no desire to learn them.

What else? I'm missing a joint in my left foot. I was semi-excommunicated from my childhood church. I like bugs. I always thought my romantic life would be like a great novel. In fact, it is. While I had anticipated Jane Austen, it seems that life has other notions. You be the judge.

What does this have to do with my lover? His name is Sam. He is sleeping with other women. He hasn't said so but I expect it. Not because he should, but because he can. We are merely lovers. We live worlds apart. Normal people would move on. At least I hope, for their sake, that they would turn their backs, thank the heavens for the happy times then walk away.

To my lover: I love you. I’m willing to be crazy. I'm willing to bare it all. The misery I felt when I left you in Paris will probably be pebbles in comparison to our twisted future. But at least I can say I tried. I loved.

Life Lessons

Rule #1: No one looks after your interests quite like you. Wasn't there a basic economic principle of self-interest?

Rule #2: Say what you want/desire. Internalizing is for the birds.

Rule #3: Love can be powerful but think twice before buying that plane ticket. He may never pay you back.

Rule #4: Short term means under three months. This is applicable to a myriad of circumstances.

Rule #5: Be flexible.

Rule #6: Karma exists. Practice the Golden Rule or else.

Rule #7: Love. Forgive. Move on. But remember that these things must be done daily.

Rule #8: Lack of vision precedes boredom and/or death.

Rule #9: Interested in someone as a lover/friend/business partner? Watch how she treats the world around her. You truly know people by their actions.

Rule #10: Don't let the heartless Mofos take you down.

My life is a good story. I don't always follow these rules but I definitely should. Although if I had always played it safe, I wouldn't be where I am today: a perpetual couchsurfer with wanderlust and little money. Amen.