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I know I had another drop off the face-of-the-blogging-world, So I'm going to do a quick catch up (plus try to blog regularly for the next month)!When I came back from Christmas break, I wrote a few blogs but 
really didn't have much positive things to say. I was close to a breaking point and really wanted to return to the states. So instead of blogging about it, I decided to just power through and focus on spending time with my room mates and distracting myself from being desperately homesick...until my next trip home.My mom was a big support in helping me through the first week back, plus some. I had horrible jet lag and was sick, which made it unable for me to sleep the first four nights back (even with a double the dose of sleeping pills). My mom sat with me for hours on the phone keeping me calm and trying to talk me to sleep. After a week of talking at all hours of the night/day and across the cont, she decided to come visit me in early February and celebrate her birthday here.So, Mommy saved the day and came to spend eight whole days with me. We had a lovely, lovely time together. We stayed in a hotel a few blocks from the Arc de Triomphe that was close to the train station to my work; we had wonderful French dinners together and shared a g
lass of wine at each meal; we warmed up over several café viennois; we read four books together and watched Friends laughing late into the night; and we spent a day in Reims and a relaxing weekend in Tours. We survived the bone chilling wind, a random snow storm and the gray skies. We learned through those chilly days that a little sunshine and blue skies transforms Paris into the magic city we all love and dream of.It was the perfect mother, daughter trip. She brought home to me and helped me make it through the last dreary days of winter.A week after my mom left, I got to go home for another school break and spend some much needed time with my fiance. While I was back in Portland, we were able to find the location for our wedding (Oh la chance!!), go snowboarding, celebrate my friends birthday, have dinners with family and friends, and go to a Blazers game! A wonderful two weeks.
Again, I found myself dragging my feet to leave again, but I'm very glad I did (many thanks to my very supportive fiance and family), because I've learned a great deal about myself and inner strength. Many people won't be able to understand why living in Paris is so much more than the glamor of it all but a challenge, but I'll know how much I've concord and grown from the experience. I know I can achieve anything now, and that is priceless to have full confidence in oneself.
My whole love for Paris and everything French originated from a book my Dad used to read to me called "This is Paris." It was my Dad who got me interested in the architecture in Paris and led to my desire to learn the language. My Dad and I weren't that close when I was growing up, and I had always dreamed of coming to Paris with him and exploring 
the streets we used to read about together.
Today I realized that dream. I picked my Dad and Sister up from the airport around 7:30 this morning. Originally, I wasn't supposed to be here because we had a scheduling error and I was going to be in Dublin, Ireland for St. Patty's day when they arrived. I decided to stay and see them instead, and it was worth every penny.
They've only been here for a few hours, and are currently napping, but I couldn't be happier and can't wait to take them for a walk around my neighborhood, La place de la Bastille, and show them the life I've been living here for the last six months.
The last weekend, me and two of my room mates plus a friend went to Amsterdam. I have been there once before, but didn't have much time to go out and explore.
We of course checked out the infamous Red Light District and that streets nightly activities. The area has everything from bars, sex shops, hookers in windows to live "shows." It was quite the eye opener, and being that it was just us four girls, we needed a little liquid courage before we stepped into the red zone. While there, we ran into Australian business men on a break from their business trip, bachelor and bachelorette parties and over heard odd conversations. A couple of them being a customer of the legal prostitution saying, "he couldn't even walk right," while exiting the facilities, and another of a couple being turned down by a prostitute for a ménage à trois because she didn't want to "cause problems between them."
I'm sure you can guess the one other "sketchy" activity while in Amsterdam. It is known for it, their "cafes." We might as well been wearing neon bright cardigans with pearls on for how awkwardly we stuck out in there. It was a fun experience but not much to report...except for too much smoke.
The other activities we partook in was visiting the Van Gogh Museum and Ann Frank's house. I enjoyed the Van Gogh Museum but was expecting to see a little more of his famous work. It was really well put together, and tons of information about his life and how his career progressed.
My favo
rite by far was Ann Frank's house. It was done magnificently. The rooms themselves where they hid are kept empty on request of her father, but have miniature diagrams of how they were set up. I've read her diary and heard her story many times, but the impact of what they went through and how it was to live there really hits you while inside those walls. If you are ever in Amsterdam it is a must see.
Another must is to rent bikes and ride around the town. We had meant to do it early in our trip but ended up renting them on our last day. We also made the mistake of getting them at a random little shop. Our first thirty minuets of riding was a blast, but while going up a little hill Lauren's chain fell off. It took me about twenty minuets and the help of a friendly stranger to finally get it back on...side note you start with it on the back gear and then slowly turn it onto the big one...and we were off again... for about five minuets. I then realized that my back tire had gone completely flat.
Now Amsterdam is not that big of a city, but thirty minuets of riding bikes compared to walking is a big difference in distance plus going in the wrong direction for a little bit lead us to getting back to the store forty minuets later.
We walked in, me holding my oil covered hands up, demanding for a refund of our money. She gladly obliged to refund Lauren but accused me of riding through glass and said I would have to replace the tire! Basically, after several minuets of arguing with her, we said to keep their money but we were NOT paying for a new tire and walked out.
After that it was time to catch our three hour train back to Paris. All and all Amsterdam was a great weekend trip for exploring a smaller city and experiencing a different style of life.
A few months ago, when I returned from Christmas break, I was having a hard time with the time difference and feeling sick. I decided to venture going to a French doctor.I took the day off from work, and called my family friend, Monique, to get a referral. She told me to call in and schedule an appointment, but when I did they said they couldn't understand me and hung up! I proceeded to call Monique back and ask what to do. She then told me to go to the Doctor's office and wait till he came back from the hospital and while I was waiting to continue to call his office.Well, I crawled on down to the metro feeling like crap and rode the thirty minuets there while trying to avoid mid-day creepers....and couldn't find the doctor's office. He ended up finally returning my message and scheduling me for 6:30 that night.My room mate and I ended up going back together in a taxi, which it took him forever to find the place too! Once there we waited for an hour till he called me back.Doctor's offices here are nothing like in the states. The waiting rooms are more like a formal living room, and then you are called back into an actual office that has a table, sink and cabinets of medical nic-nacs in a corner.The doctor didn't speak much English, so I tried my best to explain my soar throat and cough to him in French. He checked it all out and the proceeded to ask me if I had acid indigestion...I said no, but I do have a soar throat. He said, "alright, I'm going to proscribe you some medicine I think will help and you can pick it up at any pharmacy."I still didn't have my insurance information at the time (nor do I now) so I had to pay on my own...it was a whooping twenty euro, which I could get refunded if I feel the need. He had explained the meds to me but only understood one of them clearly, but when I got to the pharmacy they described it in more detail. He has prescribed me over the counter Advil and some digestive aids. How this was going to help my soar throat, besides the pain reliever, was beyond me.Oh and both medications cost six euro all together.I took the medicines are prescribed and felt better, so maybe he caught onto something I didn't, but I still don't have acid indigestion nor have I ever...
My Dad, Sister and Kim left early Sunday morning. I was sad to see them go; their trip went by way too fast.
ell asleep for a few hours instead. We ended up going for a tour around the out laying country side around Paris and saw a few Chateaux and an Abby. The Abby was by far my favorite!
t he liked and bought several paintings. We ended our walk at a cafe called Chez Francis that had a lovely view of the Eiffel Tower, and enjoyed some Pierre and home made ice cream.
