Sunday, June 20, 2010

France, I love you, but you're making me fat.

From the French baguettes to the delicious countryside cheeses, I must've gained a million pounds in the past month. We leave Montpellier on Friday for Paris, where we will be wined and dined at the expense of Texas Tech. I'm excited for gourmet food, but all I need right now is a long margarita fast.
It has been a wonderful experience, though. I've met good friends, learned more French than I could hope for, and gained patience through the language barrier. I've written some poems, sketched a few buildings, and drank some delicious coffee.

Yesterday, Sherel, Nicole, Steven and I went to the beach. It was a bit overcast and cold but a relaxing day, nonetheless. Here's an excerpt from the poem I wrote at the beach:
Our Mother's most powerful and prominent feature draws me to you through Her power, Her beauty and Her love-- all of which have helped create and destroy the likes of man.
I don't know. I fancy the poem, I suppose. I don't write mushy stuff well (yeah it's one of THOSE kind of poems...), and I'm not sure how I feel about sharing the whole thing. Maybe one day.

My sandy feet at Palavas.

Sunday, June 13, 2010

We've seen so much and done so many things; it's hard for me to keep up with this blog! I'm very sorry for neglecting.

Last night, my host mom and I had a bonding experience over sunburns and watermelon (or "pastèque" in French). I taught her to sift a bit of salt over the watermelon, and I think she liked it. I told her it was a Texas tradition. I showed her my sunburn, and she helped me apply vinegar to it; supposedly, that helps it not peel. I'm not a fan of the remedy because I smelled like I had been bathing in vinegar. If it works, I'm a convert for sure.

Kind of ready to get back to the States. I love it here, and I'm valuing my experience. I do miss everyone though. And my own habits of sleeping, eating, etc.
I've been seriously considering going back vegetarian. I did it for six months a couple of years ago. I can't do it in France because my host mom cooks for me, and I don't know how to tell her that I won't eat meat. Luckily, it's in moderation. There are many valid reasons for doing it: health, animal decency, clean mind and body. There are so many steroids and growth hormones in meat today that it's incredible. I'm sensitive to the process, too. I find it very disheartening to see and read about the cruelty inflicted on these animals.
Check out Paul McCartney's video about animal cruelty: (WARNING: Very graphic.)

Find out more at

Thursday, June 3, 2010

How could you not be inspired while in a city as beautiful as this? This was taken in La Place de la Comedie. There is a fountain of the Three Graces in front, but it is under construction. In the center of the picture stands the Opera, complete with the hobos on the steps. To the lower left, there is a beautiful carousel. We haven't tried it out yet, but it looks so fun! To the right, there is a cafe that I enjoy sitting and drinking espresso at almost every morning. I wrote a poem about the building across the Place. It is beautifully designed with residential areas at the top. How would life be if you were to wake up in the morning and live in such a beautiful ville as this?

1 Juin 2010
Furiously writing, pen in hand, to transcribe the beauty I see into mere words:
Buildings, stories high, grazing the clouds as they pass by. Wrought iron balconies where inhabitants must spew their smoke, as to not taint their silk curtains and white washed linens. That dome, royalty held captive by their own accord, houses relics of good times ago.
Look down! Look around at the beauty that surrounds tout le monde. Peasants at cafes and Opera steps begging for cents as to maintain their bohemian lives. What strangers snap memories of monuments below! Are the not accustom to such wonders as this? Trash trucks and motor bikes pollute my expensive heir as pigeon desecrate on the perfect beauty. Greasy men and women dressed as whores meander through my Place, for I am the King of the Square, I say, as I spew smoke from my prison dome.