From the City of Lights to the Left Coast

Taking a fast train to Paris tomorrow for a weekend in my favorite city. When I lived in Paris in 2002 I found myself hating it at times. Just like a poor hungry beggar would resent the festive meals seen thru fogged windows, I resented Paris' unattainable entertainment due to my lack of cash. Not that I have much more money now, but spending just 2 days in the City of Lights will be invigorating. I love the abundance of shops, people, activities, and the beauty of the monuments and Christmas decorations. I love using my intimate knowledge of the city to show others around. I look forward to seeing the Eiffel Tower illuminated by Christmas lights and the smell of roasting chestnuts on the street.

Monday I will be taking a direct flight from Charles De Gaulle to LAX. I am not stoked about security or customs, but some evils are necessary. To say that I am excited about being back in Cali is an understatement. It has be miserabley cold here for the past few days (-1° C at the lowest) and I look forward to wearing t-shirts and seeing the sun again. I hope that I have the will power to get back on the plane and return to truly freezing conditions in a town that is about as exciting cold white rice.

Have I mentioned my latest escape plan? Last week I received my long term visa (carte de séjour) that is good thru the end of '05. This is truly a blessing as it gives me the right to work and others only received permission to stay thru July '05. I guess being a sweetheart to the lady at the front desk and always keeping my smile really paid off. Anyway, I will be heading to the French Riviera in April to find a job in a bar or on a tourist sailboat and work thru August or September. All I want to do is lounge on the beach during the day and take money from drunk tourists by night. I am living the life.

If I don't update while I am in the States, I would like to wish everyone a very merry Christmas and a happy and safe New Year.

Burritos and Burgers, here I come!!

You have 7 days...

Birthday Summary:
So the Fete de Lumières was cool and the party I threw Friday night was pretty entertaining too. The fete in Lyon was exactly as I imagined it. Packed with people, lights everywhere, vin chaud (hot wine) for sale on the streets. The birthday party that I threw was pretty cool. We ate lots of cake, watched The Ring, and played hide and go seek in the dark in the highschool. Have I mentioned before that there are no bars or clubs in Romans, thus the cheesy party.

So I am coming home one week from today. I am so freakin excited to get the hell out of Romans for a decent amount of time. Also that fact that I am going to see my nearest and dearest all over Cali just makes me feel like I won the lottery.

This week should fly by. I have been christmas shopping everyday and am about to go out shoppin again right now. I think that I am taking more presents than actual luggage. I am trying to get a case of champagne thru customs, does anyone know anything about this?

More exciting posts to come this week...

Today is my 23rd Birthday!!!

Hello faithful readers and filandering browsers,
Today is my birthday and once again I will be spending it in France. The big 21st was in Paris and now the not-so-big 23rd will be in not-so-big Lyon. There is this huge Fete de Lumières held in Lyon every 8th of December to honor the Virgin Mary's protection of Lyon from the Plague. Of course that now translates into wicked light decorations all over the city and a big party in the street. Heading up there just as soon as I am done with this posting.

So let's talk Christmas vacation...

I have received a few messages from peeps who want to chill while I will be back in Cali for a brief time. If you would like to have lunch or a drink with me, email me. I dont have a cell anymore in the States so I am having to set up meetings before hand.

I might be in Santa Cruz from Dec 26-29 for all you NorCal kids out there. Lucy, Jenny, Katie, Kristina, Becky, looking forward to seeing all of you. Let's Party like it is 1999.

And Grandma, I am very excited to see all of the family for New Years at your house. Save some onion dip for me.

Love-
Lex

Can't keep a secret

Here it is... I am coming home for Christmas!! Dad took pity on my pathetic non-existant Christmas plans and decided to fly me home. I am so excited! Gonna eat mexican food within minutes of getting off the plane and kissing the ground. Life in Romans is all the sudden not so bad. See y'all in a few weeks!!

Just when you thought it was over

Last night I received a phone call that changed my whole outlook on life. I have been in a foul mood all week. My birthday is next Wednesday and that always wears on my spirits. In combination with a lonely holiday season in freezing France, I was starting to get depressed. But then my phone rang while I was paying for some groceries and everything changed. I have been erupting in fits of joyous laughter all day for the knowledge I received has set my spirit free.

Who called me and what did they say? The truth will be revealed in a fortnight.

Prisoner of Tribu Tower

I stood in the hot humid bathroom cranking the handle. My wet hair leaked water onto my shoulders and down to my hands. The door made the same sound everytime I turned the handle, a spring-like noise that failed to release the latch. I was a prisoner in my own bathroom for who knows how long. I put my ear to the door to listen for my roommate walk by.
"Katie!?!? Help me I am stuck inside the bathroom!"
Katie worked the handle from the outside to no avail.
"Stand back!"
Katie threw her whole body into the door. A faint squeal of pain marked her failure to penetrate my cell. The water molecules in the air were cooling. It was starting to remind me of my trip to the jungles of Belize.
While Katie went to go call for help I looked into the foggy mirror. Make-up had dripped under my eyes and I looked like a drowned racoon. My hair was starting to curl and I was still wrapped in my damp towel.
"The caretaker and some technicians are coming."
Oh god. The thought of the caretaker seeing me in a towel lead me to quickly change back into the dirty jeans and t-shirt from earlier that day.
Some minutes later, the three french men stood outside the door and contemplated my liberation for quite some time. I sat on the dirty floor covered in hair and thought about how badly we need to mop. After at least ten minutes I moved back into the bathtub.
"They have gone to get a saw, hold tight."
I sat in the bathtub and smelled all of our beauty products. I didn't realize how good my roommates shampoo smelled. I must go buy some of my own.
Minute 40 passed in the bathtub and all I could think about my copy of the Da Vinci Code sitting outside the door. Oh why couldn't I have brought it into the bathroom with me. Why couldn't I be reading about Opes Dei instead of Sodium Lauryl Sulfate. What did I do to be smote like this!!!
As I smelled my conditioner by sqeezing the bottle a little squirted on my nose. At that very instant three french men with a saw and a drill burst through the door, to find me sitting in the empty bathtub with dark circles under my eyes, wet matted hair, wearing a dirty shirt, and conditioner dripping from my nose.
One never leaves prison with much digninty.

Run Shaw Run Goes Random

So just wanna mention that people I do not even know are commenting on my site, meaning that random people read my daily thoughts. That is weird but cool. Run Shaw Run has gone random!

Thanksgiving French Style

Well that is kinda a contradiction of terms. The french don't celebrate Thanksgiving, let alone know what the heck it is. So yesterday my homey Matt for Barcelona showed up in Romans to celebrate the day with me. We ate turkey sandwiches and called it a night. I was lucky enough to receive a phone call from my mother's party at 10:30pm just as I was going to sleep, and then another call from my dad's side at 1:30am just as I was sleeping. Has anyone ever heard of a time change? How about 8am class? I was really tired this morning but was happy to hear from everyone.

Okay gotta go teach my little beasts cuss words. This week's lessons have been on Sublime, the LA riots of 92, and still some Simpsons.

Takin a piss

So the whole "Together we can go farther. Together we can stay gone forever. " was a bit sarcasm people. I was making fun of myself... hello?! Haven't you ever heard of self-deprication? Please no more e-cards of flying birds or sunsets.

Anyway, went paragliding again this weekend in Grenoble. It was so beautiful in the valley with snow-topped mountains towering in the back. The car ride up the mountain always makes me a little sick. My second time running off the cliff was surprisingly mellow. I wasn't questioning the proximity of my death nearly as much and enjoyed my flight. The only thing cooler than paragliding would be if actuall feathery wings sprouted out of my back and they served as my transportation.

Got the pleasure of experiencing a bit of the french medical establishment at it's finest today. Had to do a "routine" medical exam for my long stay visa. I was made to get a chest x-ray in the boonies of the boonies administered by some pervo 5'4" tall, white chest hair bearing, crucifix sporting, french sleeze bag radiologist. Quelle chance pour moi. He must really love his job. He gets to ask 50 foreign college-aged girls to disrobe for a useless Tuberculosis screening x-ray everyday. Who said being a civil servant is boring work.

The whole exeperience was horrifying from the ride on a bus full of ill freaks, to the shanty medical offices surrounded by cornfields. Although my favorite bit were the painful shreiks of terror and pain coming down the hall on my way out. It is the sound I had been feeling all day.

Still don't know what I am doing for the holidays. Must look into some package deals or something.

Another one bites the dust

We have had our first program drop-out... my homegirl Julianna from North Carolina. Her schools were treating her like crap and she just couldn't take it any more. Today is a perfect day to quit as it is raining and only 4°C. I am so jealous that she is gonna be home for the holidays. If I could see my family for thanksgiving and xmas I would leave too, but I must stay. Someone has to report from the other side.

Dirty is a Smell

From a train somewhere is Spain after 3 days in Barcelona:

The life of the traveler has taken hold. My pants are a size too big with holes. My hair is slightly dreaded and covered by the hood of my sweater. My blue eyes peer confidently from dark circles and a smirk hangs on my face. I have worn the same socks for three days. The traveler is not interested in appearance, only experience. Feminine clothes and high heels do not serve one on a five hour walk, so one no longer possess either. Clothes are functional now, not for show. I attract others like me. Since I travel alone I meet mostly other American men. I prefer the men I meet traveling to those I meet in bars when I am wearing lip gloss and smelling of Lolita Lempicka. They see me as for who I am, not what I look like. When travelers seduce each other there is a complete acceptance of the others shortcomings without judgement. You have ketchup on your thigh and my shirt has 3 holes, wanna make out? Normal people wish they could live like this.
The travelers code: 1) Dirty is a smell. 2) The grocery store is your friend. 3) Bring earplugs.

I would like to state a major difference between normal people, those who work jobs and 5 year plans, and the traveler. While I was working in Corporate America after graduating uni I would tell people I was working only to save money and go travel. This was regarded as something exotic, almost bizarre. Six months working for six months travel, and never any more power or responsibility than you could leave in a heart beat. While the normalite is worrying about a Power Point presentation, the traveler in the bar of a hostel in any given European city is scheming with other lost souls as to the quickest way to turn a buck and get back out on the road. My desire to extend my stay for as long as possible is only encouraged by those around me.

Barcelona

My trip to Barcelona rocked so hard that I have been recovering for two days. I cancelled my Tuesday classes and took off for Spain on Saturday. On the train from Montpellier to Barcelona I encountered my first truly UGLY AMERICAN since I have been back to Europe. His name was Randy and he was from California. He proceeded to question every North American looking person on the train as to their origin and formed a little American clique that I hate to say I was a part of for a brief time. Randy (what an awful name) only knew how to use a drunk ‘outside’ voice and proceeded to insult French culture for three hours at top volume. As he would (very loudly) as my opinion on this or that I could only reply in a proper ‘indoor’ voice and hope to god the train would go faster. When we arrived in Barcelona Randy screamingly demanded the origin of some Americans in the metro in front of a platform full of Spaniards. To the reply that they were Alaskan he hollered “That is almost American.” I hoped for one of them to push him on the tracks.

The two other cool American dudes and I agreed to ditch the UGAM, as we called him from then on, and head out on our own. We got into our hostels at midnight and headed to the nearest pizza joint for a slice and a European-style 40 oz. bottle of beer. I was in heaven. The three of us proceeded to party hard till 5 o’clock in the morning. We mostly drank at the hostel as beers were only 2.50 euro for a liter. We skipped around to other bars in the area but ended up on the internet at like 4 in the morning drunk emailing... never a good idea.

Sunday we headed up to check out Gaudi’s Sagrada Familia, a massive church in the middle of the city. We climbed the towers and tripped out on all the cool architecture. They have been building his original plan for over a hundred years and still aren’t finished. The church mixes like 10 different kinds of architecture and uses methods of measurement that Guadi invented. That guy had serious inspiration.
After some time we headed up to Park Guell and looked at Gaudi’s house, his mosaic lizards, and rock sculptures. There is a great view of Barcelona and the ocean from up there. Sunday night we proceeded to get wasted yet again in the hostel. I met a bunch of cool travelers from all over the world and played cards and pool. This was much more interesting than going to some loud dance club, especially since I was looking more like a tomboy than a pretty girl. I got so drunk at one point that I refused to speak English and the only people who could understand my French were the Belgians. To my delight they said I spoke the best french they ever heard an American speak. Oh la la.

Monday we rented sweet-ass Schwinn beach cruisers and rode around Barcelona a few hours. We rode along the beach and around the ports, around some parks and back up to Las Ramblas. The water was so blue it reminded me of home. I wanted to strip off my clothes and run into the water, but it was only 13 degrees Celcius.

What do you think we did Monday night? That’s right, got totally wasted in the hostel bar. After all that cultural crap one must conserve funds. I woke up in at 7am and had to go back to my room, get my bag, and head to the station for my 8:45 train. I forgot my freakin towel.

So all and all Barcelona was superb. It was great to be around travelers and people who are open to meet people. I traveled alone, but wasn’t by myself for long. I never felt threatened and was always laughin. My homey Matt from Seattle walked me back and forth to my hostel so many times I gotta just say thanks dude.

Gotta stay local for the next few weekends. Next month I have to entertain myself for two weeks over Christmas and New Years. Might go to Nice with some Aussie chicks for New Years. That would ROCK!

Shout out to Jimmy from OZ... you rock!

Send me emails, I miss having a full inbox: alexandrashaw@gmail.com

Warm up

I am heading to the train station to go to Grenoble for a couscous dinner with some Frenchies in about 20 mins. I finally stopped being a vegetarian (gasp!) after ten years. I am just doing it here in France as the food is incredible.
I must update you on the French method of seduction when I return. It is comical and utterly baffling to say the least.
Saturday I am heading down to Barcelona solo-stylee. Staying thru Monday. Barcalona is gonna be amazing I am sure... hopefully I will pick up some more Spanish. I am really looking forward to some warmer weather and warming up for by break next month, when I will be a solo soldier again.
Still working on what I am gonna do for Christmas and New Years. Dont mind if I dont spend the holidays with my current friends, just as long as I am around party people in a party place. And did I mention warm?
I have been teaching the Simpsons this week using a comic book I have. It freakin rocks!! I never thought I would get paid to talk about Barney getting drunk at Moe's Tavern. Viva La France!

Return from the Other Side

Just got back from Strasbourg, where I spent a good part of my Toussaint holiday. On the train to Strasbourg with one hour to go a black man wearing Ku Klux Klan regalia boarded and sat two rows ahead of me. The face masked was pushed up over his forehead to reveal his dark eyes floating on his African face as if they worked independently of each other. A few seconds after taking his seat I began to hear the strangest noise coming from his quarter, what sounded like a pneumonia cough. I thought this self-hating individual was nearly drowning in phlegm when I looked at the horror on the French woman’s face seated across the isle from me. In that brief moment I perceived that this very black man in a white costume with a pointy white cap was spewing his cheap beer into a flimsy plastic sack as if he were casually reading the paper with a train full of disgusted travelers looking on. I am not ashamed to say the I was the second person to leave that car, right on the heels of a very green-looking French woman.
Jenny and I originally planned to go to Barcelona, but when her train ticket hadn’t arrived by the time we wanted to leave I just went up to her place and we made our way to Amsterdam for the weekend. To say it was awesome was an understatement. Friday night when we arrived we found the first smoke shop, happened to be The Rokery. We then proceeded to walk around the city and get lost for awhile until we went to our crappy hotel/hostel and dropped our backpacks off. Then we wondered to some more coffeeshops and proceeded to get the full effect of Amsterdam. We found our way back to our hotel by midnight and slept well, even tho one of our rooms mates was an Italian with a gas problem.

I should address the issue of drug use and Amsterdam for all of you judging me as a foolish girl who needs psychedelic assistance to see the beauty in the day. Pot is legal there and is smoke freely but responsibly by the Dutch. I don’t think it is for everyone, and I can surely enjoy the color of the sunset without it. You cannot judge it from abroad, but if you saw Amsterdam in action you would see that the legalization of drugs actually saves peoples lives.

Anyway back to Amsterdam, on Saturday Jenny and I were up and early to go get a bagel and rent a couple of bikes from a great place called Frederic’s by the train station. With wheels we were mobile in the most ideal sense possible in Amsterdam. Since the city is flat, the preferred method of transport by the locals is bicycle and the city accommodates this lifestyle like a mother accommodates the hunger of her children. Cars and bikes hold an equal footing in street politics and the roads are constructed to reflect this with huge bikes lane protected by raised curbs. Bikes give way to cars, people give way to bikes, and everyone gives way to trams. That being said, life on a bike in Amsterdam is so pleasant that if I should ever live there I will never dream of purchasing a gas-guzzler. We decided earlier in the day that we were going go to the Van Gogh museum. So went to the Ryks museum and then like the true dumbasses we are we went riding off a couple blocks south to try to find the Van Gogh museum. By the time we made it back to the green field we rode across we realized we actually drank a cup of tea in the shadow of the museum an hour earlier. We left the museum after looking at many swirling paintings and somehow completely missing Starry Night. The next hour we spent watching a hot air balloon in the shape of Vincent Van Gogh’s head be blown up in front of the museum. I joked that I would have never became lost and left the museum pavilion if they had decided to schedule the little show two hours before. What we decided to do next will be my fondest memory of Amsterdam for many years to come.

We went behind the museum, unlocked our bikes, and decided to take them to Vondel Park. Upon entering the park I saw the most beautiful autumn colors I have ever seen in my whole life splashed upon the canvas that was the landscape. Every turn held a new body of water, a new flock of birds, a new weeping willow grazing the surface of the water, a new scenario for my mind to grasp and let go. Fresh crisp air filled my lungs as my cheeks blushed from the cold. Jenny and I rode around that park for hours and hours laughing and watching the scenes roll by. At sunset we jumped off our bikes and watched the sun go to bed as it lit the sky a color pink that was once reserved for the flamingo. Then we hopped on our rusty steeds for another hour and a half of soaking in all the colors and scenes of the park until the chilly weather forced us to seek shelter. I cannot explain the way I felt watching a beautiful stretch of path laid out before me with the limbs of tall trees kissing overhead as autumn leaves dropped like tears. Oranges, reds, and yellows all spotted with brown reminded me of the Autumn I had always heard about in California but never experienced. I saw my life as perfect. Perfect for the ability of my body to ride this wonderful bike. The perfection of my eyesight. The perfection of a moment that so many people will never share. I felt truly blessed to be alive and in a position to see my good fortune.

Jenny and I had dinner in an Italian joint after the park. We road around for awhile longer, but by that time my narrow skinny ass had had enough of the bike seat and we headed back to the hostel. Sunday morning we woke up, ate some yummy falafel, and grabbed the train back to Strasbourg. What a great break.

For Christmas I do believe that I am going to Goa, India for a little beach and a little party!!!

Is This Really My Vacation?

Since I am waiting on Jenny to get her ticket in the mail I have just been sitting on my dead ass in Romans... Which is even deader. Today I bought some new Pumas, which were exhortbantly expensive after the goddamn exchange rate. It was a necessary evil tho considering the only other shoes I brought to France were Elvis Blue running shoes.
So what shall I do for this break.... hmmmm. The first plan was to go to Barcelona, but as more time passes by I just feel like heading up to Amsterdam. After a few days there I am sure that I will be sufficiently partied out.
France is starting to grow on me. On Saturday I went paragliding outside of Grenoble with a friend. I was so cool to just take off running and jump off a cliff with a kite overhead. We sailed around the valley for about 5 minutes passing waterfalls, trees, and rock faces. After a few minutes I asked him if he could do any tricks and he proceeded to make us plummet toward the earth at an alarming rate all the while spinning dangerously out of control. As my eyes poured tears and my voice cracked with gleeful screams I felt my life reach a pinnacle. Every breath I took meant more than the one before. I was truly alive. After my feet touched the ground and I could feel the normalcy of my life even out again. I do not and will not ever fear death. If risky stunts like that propel one towards greater appreciation of life, I say go for it.
The job is going well, even tho I have yet to be paid and am growing more broke by the day. I should create some sort of charity tip jar on this sight or something. The good thing about being broke is that I have already lost 7 lbs and counting. I eat a croissant or the equivalent everyday, but I think the big diff is that the food here has zero preservatives and I walk all the time.
I guess I should go. Gonna go take a walk in my new million dollar kicks and seek a bottle of booze to soothe my Monday night boredom.
With love and peace,
Alexandra

Freaking Cold

So I heard about the slaughter of 50 percent of the workforce at Maxim. That sucks dudes, but it shouldnt be that bad. At least there is a severence package. Who needs em anyway, go find a job at a company with a drug that actually works.

As for me and mine, I am freezing my fingers off here in France. The cold is here and it is only gonna get colder. It rains almost everyday, but that doesnt stop me from going out and running or rowing on the river. My roomie Katie and I have become little workout goddesses. I figure that I am 22 and this is as good as it is gonna get.

The students have almost made me homocidal. I freakin hate teenagers and highschool. The teachers run between cool and shit and can make my life hell if they want to. I currently have no voice to scream at the little beasts anymore cuz I have been working on pronunciation. It is really amusing to scream Think... Sink over and over until you dont know how to say it yourself... A real freakin riot.

Luckily for me I am getting my first week of paid vacay starting on Friday!!! Gotta love the French welfare state. My girl Jenny and I are gonna go to Barcelona to cause some trouble. I dont speak Espanol anymore so I hope to make it out alive and kickin ass.

Last weekend I went up to Grenoble for yet another party with the Frenchies. I have been meeting such cool peeps since I have been out here. I guess my crap American accent is perceived to be sexy so dudes are super interested in my deal. The shame is that they all try to speak English with me in these terrible accents that remind me of my students. Sweet french nothings= sexy... Broken ass English= gross.

Going back to the Alps this weekend for a rock concert. I have no idea who these band are, I am just looking forward to the social interaction en Francais.

Feel free to comment on my blog. I love reading what peeps have to say.

Until next time.

Who were you? Of Money and Passion

Some of the most challenging questions I get are about my past life. When my students cannot get a feel for who I am they revert back to the question- What do you do for a job?
I reply that I do this for a job right now and before I worked at a pharmaceutical company, but my education is in politics. Bewildered and exhausted they turn their eyes to the window or the floor, whichever is the farthest from my gaze.
It seems to me that who I supposedly was has nothing to do with who I really am. I have no desire to define myself by my means of allocating money. I have passions that have no marketable value. So here I am, working by day to support my passions by night, and in my opinion this is ideal.
On a train from Munich to Paris I sat and spoke with an older man named Gideon for many hours. He was originally from the Bronx but relocated to Germany years ago to work in film. His passion is photgraphy and his advice was this: Do not make your passion your job, because after a few years you will become bored with your job thus negating your passion. My girlfriends found this to be pessimistic but I understood him completely. No matter how cush the job, I will always hate it. The first day I show I up try to figure out how to work the least amount and maintain a good repution. The difference between me and other people is that I admit this from the get-go and never try to manipulate this means of a paycheck into my passion. They will always remain seperate for the sanctity of my personality and that which drives me.

Ambassador

After class, after parties, after lunch it is always the same response... you are not like other Americans. What is it that leads these new people that I meet to say this?

Went to a party Friday night in Grenoble. I was introduced to all of these different people, all french people, and as soon as they heard my accent they asked if I was English. No, from California. “Oh from California, c’est super!” But after a few exchanges the topic of politics always came up and I was left to amend the image of my country. After a few days of thought this has what I have come to realize. America is not seen the same in the hearts and minds of the American people as it is exported through the media and the news. This change of hand of the American image leaves the Americans themselves at a disadvantage when they are traveling abroad. The Europeans have the audiovisual proof to defend their conception of America as a fat, gun-slinging, petroleum-based, consumer, capitalist, and overall evil empire. When one finds themselves at this starting point in a conversation, one immediately knows that there is a lot of work to be done.

At the party I told a French girl that if I became the President the first thing I would do is walk into a homeless shelter and bring some families to the White House to do their laundry and have a nice meal. Nothing very fancy, just food that they wanted eat, prepared by caring hands and delivered during relevant conversations. No media, no scripts or sound bites, just conversation without worrying about the safety of their children for one day. It will take many years to give the people a functioning welfare state without crippling the economy, but a plate of food and some clean clothes can be made in an hour and a half.

The look of awe painted her face and as she could not believe what she was hearing. I did not defend every point, I just told her what I believed from my heart and that said it all. She then turned to another french man and told him what I said. He told me that it was impossible. He introduced himself as Smile and a great debate about the merits of capitalism commenced.

Today, Monday, I received a phone call from Smile to go out to lunch and talk. Turns out he is a professor of economy at a highschool in Grenoble and ten years my elder. We spoke about the differences between American and French culture for many hours and I once again was told that I was not like other Americans. I asked Smile if he had ever been to the States before and he told me that he never wanted to step foot there, because they just want to take his money. I couldn’t help but laugh. I asked him how he knew this to be true and he once again pointed to TV and movies.

Unfortunately this is not uncommon. In fact, every time I have asked one of my classes if they had ever met an American before only 3 out of 10 replied yes. The fact that people have not ever met an American before does not deny them opinions about Americans. The daily news bolsters an image of a spreading American empire on the search for oil. Movies by Michael Moore are treated like scripture and are used as test material in English class. The movie Super Sized Me has been quoted in my presence at least 5 times. Our mainstream media spreads the poison and our counter-culture media gives this audiovisual proof to those who love to hate America. I don’t know what to say any more other than that there are many others like me.

In my brief stay here in France I have become a petite Ambassador for the United States. So far at least 4 people have told me that they hated Americans before they met me and now they open to the idea that Americans are good people. My fellow Americans, I am reporting from the front lines and I must say this is a ticking time bomb. We all must work together to mend this broken image of our beautiful country as we are losing friends by the day. Maybe that doesn’t matter to anyone at home, but for an American abroad my life has never been tougher.

Until next time.

Autumn starts with a bang

There is a real honest to goodness storm going on right now. I haven’t seen anything like this in years. For the past couple of days there has been wind so strong in could knock you over. Then today it was calm with heavy clouds in the sky. My roomie Katie and I were walking to the store today to get booze and food when the bone in my hand that was broken in Mexico a few years ago started to ache. We had the other assistants over for drinks at Café Chaud, the name we have given the terrace outside of my room. We spoke in English and French about our lives at home and what there is to do around Romans, not a goddamn thing. After dusting 5 bottles of wine we came inside to eat when we heard the pitter patter on the window. It was almost cute the way is sounded so gentle and inviting. A couple of the girls had to walk home as it was getting late, so I lent one of the my umbrella even though she said that she didn’t need it. About fifteen minutes later I saw a lightening outside my window, and for the last hour there has been the most incredible crashes and flashes lighting up the sky. Now it is raining cats and dogs. We had to walk Antonio, the Spanish assistant, back to his flat on the other side of the school in the dark all alone. Talk about scary movie material, I almost pissed myself when I caught my own reflection in flash of lightening. The school is so old and huge that it seems like it has a life of it’s own. I dare not to walk down the halls by myself at night for fear of having a paranoia induced heart attack.

So when I become the President of the USA or the Governor of Cali, the first thing I am going to do is invite homeless families for dinner at the White house, or the Governors house. And no press allowed cuz I hate that publicity driven crap. I would do it to show the people that I stand shoulder to shoulder with them, whether they have money or not. Wouldn’t that be great to see a bunch of homeless people doing laundry at the White house and having a cheese sandwich with the Prez. God, I am going to be a cool president. And I am going to do a whole lot more stuff in the Rose Garden. It is too pretty to be ignored.

Gonna lay here and watch the storm for a little while longer. I am just loving real weather.

Vote Shaw in 2030

Another day in Romans

So this is really annoying. I keep typing as if I was on a French keyboard while I am typing on my laptop. Just when you get used to one thing it changes right back.
I should really go to sleep considering I am teaching in seven hours. This gig really takes a lot out of me. The first class that I taught had nearly 20 students in it and only about 5 of them spoke. The others just chatted when my back was turned or stared off into space. I honestly understood their frustration considering I dropped out of highschool at 16. That is so crazy for me to be teaching these kids who are the same age I as was when I started college, they look so young. I guess I finally understand why I got such strange looks in my classes. The other classes were better because I demanded that I only take five students at a time. I taught them about the presidential elections and stereotypes. They seemed to get a kick out of telling me that Americans are McDonald’s eating, Coke swilling fatties. Gotta love Frenchies.
After class ended at 5 I when to the market to buy some food for dinner and mellowed out in my room for about an hour. Then at 7pm I when over to a British woman’s house in the suburbs (if there is even an urban place to be ‘subbed’). There were 5 English assistants and two British women for dinner and drinks. This one woman Veronique is awesome. She is French but was married to an English dude so she speaks the bomb English. She was so funny cuz she had drama with another English teacher there and was all to happy to share the gossip after the other left. Some habits are universal, and the cattiness of women cannot be denied no matter what side of the pond you live on.
The weather in Romans is changing. The wind is blowing and with a crazy force and I can tell it is going to get cold soon. Once the weather changes I am sure that I will be holed up in my apartment swilling booze writing the next great American novel. How Hemingway of me.
Gonna go now. Thank you everyone for writing me kind notes and keeping me posted on the gossip back in the states. Just because I am gone for now doesn’t mean that I am not interested in the sordid details.
And Maximites, good luck with the cuts if there are any. If any of you want to escape the states and come here to France I now a great little town that shuts down at 7 and doesn’t have any bars.

With a little help from my friends

Hey yall. Just want to quickly let you know that I am feeling better. I got my blog to update, so expect more entries with great stories.
Taught my first class an hour ago. The kids wanted to know about Bush and America. I was pleased to talk about anything, just as long as they didnt sit there like lumps on a log. I got my first experience disciplining a kid. He just kept on talking so I walked up to him and said :Are you planning on talking for the whole class cuz I can plan around it: Then made the universal cut it out sign, which I think he mistook for :I am going to kill you: Whatever works, right?
Gotta go prepare for another class of sixteen year olds... God help me.

Here, in the Clear, in need of some Cheer

How frustrating...I am on a french keyboard, and like everything else here it is just slightly different. I am in Romans-sur-Isère at my school finally. I live on campus in a furnished apartment with an Italian girl and an English girl. They are both pretty cool. The apartment itself is awesome, my room has a terrace that is at least 30ft by 30ft! My room faces north so I get tons of sun which is both a blessing and a curse. And get this, it is just 30€ a month!
Paris was great. I saw a lot of the Frenchies that I knew when I lived there before. I went to a bunch of museums that I was too lazy to visit last time and ate a lot of bread and cheese. We went dancing till 4am one night, but for the most part just chilled.
After a week in the city of light I went to Grenoble for orientation. We went to a small village in the Alps called Autrans where the winter olympics in 1968 where held. It would have been better to call it summer camp as there were 80 kids doing the hey-how-are-ya bit and sleeping in bunk beds. I find this kind of interaction to be exhausting, especially after two weeks on the road. I met some cool Aussies and Brits and cliqued up with other girls in Romans.
So here I am and it is finally setting in. I miss my family, I miss my friends, I miss the beach, and I miss being local. My french sucks compared to others assistants. I am trying to keep my chin up and live this experience in the now but it is hard. The nights are the hardest, when I lay awake thinking about the ocean lapping at the shore or the sun on my face. I miss being loved by those around me. I have no idea what I am going to do after this is all over in April. I could nearly have a panic attack just thinking about that.
So this weekend I am going to go to the South of France and try to find a beach to swim at. I hope this will put a bandaid on my home sickness.
Please email me at alexandrashaw@gmail.com. I need to hear friendly words as I cut my way thru this jungle.

I am yours

A few months ago I had an idea. It was a latent idea, as it didn't effect my waking life until a few days later. I received a letter inviting me to France. Three weeks later, during French class I spoke with an aquaintence about living in Grenoble. Later that night I began to cry as I spoke to a dear friend about my decision... my decision to leave. I was so sure, so confident in myself, but I cried none the less. Not for loss or for love, but for change. I would change my life by choice, and this was a risk. It was like I jumped off the Hindenberg by choice. The jobs of my friends and family were gone, but somehow I made it out with a purpose. As I fell at the speed of a stone I looked back at the exploding plume. One hundred lives singed in the open air; I laughed so hard I cried. I didn't know where I was going to land, I was just sure I was happy not to be burned. I dedicate my lives to you, those who read my life. I will be your hope and humor as long as you nourish me with patronage. I welcome you to my wonderland.

"><$BlogItemTitle$>

Sickness and Lethargy

For once in a long time it is cloudy here in San Diego. I was greeted to the day with a stomach bug I caught from my suspiciously tough sushi last night. Woe is the world of raw seafood. Anyway, I am at work trying to forget about the sickness.
Clouds always make me hopelessly lethargic. Over New Year's break I stayed in bed for three whole days eating pastries and watching True Romance over and over, just because of the weather. People would drop by and question by sejour au lit. All I had to spare was a smug look. No, I am not getting out of bed today. Yes I did bake this carmel soaked chocolate marble cake just for bedroom eating and No, I will not share.
The joy of life comes in several different forms.

Genesis

Yo. I am trying to get this thing up and running. Funny, I am trying to get myself up and running too. I took a position with the French gov't teaching English at a Lycee from Oct 04 to May 04. I will be gone for quite awhile so this website has been set up to help me keep in touch. It may turn into my own garbage can of thoughts and tirades that no one actually reads, although I hope that fears proves to be false.
Oh faithful friend who hath bestowed your presence upon my blog... I implore you to be faithful and check back periodically. Those who know me well know that I get myself into plenty of trouble and am all to willing to tell anyone who'll listen about it. You know what they say, it's funny cuz it's true.