La Vie Niçoise

Gooey New York Fries poutine, give-you-brainfreeze-coco-passionfruit bubble tea à la rainbow jelly, and not-half-bad dynamite roll sushi. Go abroad for 3 months, and these seemingly day-to-day pleasures will transform into exotic marvels for the tastebud upon return.

It is SO GOOD to be back, says Angelica's tummy.

On the to-do list:

• Buy Vancouver souvenirs from Gastown (how weird is it to be a tourist in your own hometown!?)
• Collect 6-month supply of bubble tea and related accessories
• Have a chai latte
  
• Play in the snow
• Finish Programmation Internet website to turn in via e-mail
• Study for January finals
  
• See people! Please, call me or msn me or e-mail me to meet up... I've lost my phonebook to Fido handheld heaven. Check my MSN screenname for the number i've hijacked till the 5th.

Just want to say a big thank you to everyone who made me feel special on my birthday. From the yummy Nerds, to the 40 bajillion lipbalms, to not-one-but-TWO-keychain-finders (lol), to the greeting card that made me feel dizzy-yet-loved from reading it, to the decidedly random Korean wetnaps, it all reminded me that I am not, in fact, alone. And the pictures. Oh the pictures. I happy so much. (<-- Yo, this is bad English)

I was also surprised by my very sweet friends with an amazing dinner chez nous:

Me : Sniff sniff, I am alone on my birthday. I will stay in my bed and sulk.
Somebody: *knock knock*
Me : I'll just pretend I didn't hear that
Somebody: *knock knock knock*
Me : Oh, fine. *open door* What the hell!

I love you all :)

I need more days like this one. I'd only really experienced it one other time, in the mountains near St. Tropez, amidst the clouds and fog on a hilltop, above the rest of the world.

Silence, stillness, and the exhilarating feeling of self-awareness. No bustle, no day-to-day worries.

Just me.

--

It was 4pm, and I'd just finished speaking with the minister for about an hour. We talked about my worries about my faith. How can I know there is a God? Why is the bible trustworthy? Will I ever find someone to share my life with? When?

He answered all my questions, patiently and kindly. I ended with a satisfied feeling, like I'd just ate a 3-course meal of split pea soup, du magret de canard and a fluffy chocolate mousse. Hearty and fulfilling, and definitely not McDonalds-greasy. I cried as he prayed for me at the end.

When he left the office, I sat thinking with my elbows on the desk. A rustle of wind startled me out of my thoughts. Hmm, there are no windows in this office...

It'd come from the right of me, and I turned to see a small mesh air vent leading outdoors... the sudden breeze had knocked some papers out of place. My eyes landed on a 3-fold green and blue leaflet that had been tossed onto the desk, face up, turned towards me. Huh. Out of all of the papers to get blown towards me. It read:

"Don't Lose Hope"

Okay.

---

I left the chapel with my Ipod set on the "Classical" playlist. Usually this is where I walk home, past the groups of racaille traipsing around the gare preying on young tourist girls. I crossed the street and slowed as I came up to a Ligne D'Azur bus shelter. Suddenly I wanted to be alone with my thoughts, just like on the mountain near St. Tropez. I peered up at the transit map, pondering my options, as a bus pulled up next to me. Oh, what the heck. I turned around and boarded, whatever bus it was.

It was the 4, and it was going North. Good.

--

I'd always wanted to visit the mountains behind Nice. There's an observatory, a white dome I'd seen perched atop the forested hills, tucked away from everything. I sat on the bus with my hands folded on my lap, listening to Beethoven, watching intently out the window as the bus left the familiar world of downtown Nice. The hills surrounding the city grew bigger and closer, and soon I was at the edge of Nice proper, at the foot of the mountain slopes. The observatory was in sight. High. Up.

The sun was setting.

I disembarked near the end of the line, and looked around me. It was getting dark, but I still, I couldn't shake that odd wanting to get away from civilization to meditate alone. Unfortunately, it was Sunday, and no busses would be heading towards the observatory any time soon. Should I just cross the street and take a bus back the way I came? I spotted some stairs in the general direction of "up the hill," and made my decision.

It was decidedly creepy. Dark. Brittle dry leaves crunched under my steps and rustled in the wind as I made my way towards nowhere in particular. The stairway opened onto a wide alley winding up the hillside, spotted with yellow lamps and lined with cars. No. No civilization. Higher.

So many cats.

A couple times I wondered if I was trespassing on private property. It was too dark to tell, but meh. I climbed, taking random streets and railed passageways. No one in sight for a while. Better. I looked over my shoulder. The lights of Nice, I could see them now from above. This is good.

Finally, a clearing. Yes! A place I could sit in silence with my thoughts. I crouched and surveyed the view.


To my right, a small building, ancient-looking like all the others in Nice. How cool... but something was odd about it. It was topped with a cross.

A knot in my stomach. I slowly lowered my gaze and let my eyes adjust to the darkness below. More crosses. Headstones. Oh my God.

I'm alone, in the dark. Overlooking a cemetary.

--

To make a long story short, I continued walking for about 3 more hours, with just a couple stops: one to buy a Marguerite pizza and a 1 litre San Pellegrino and eat it on a roadside bench. Yeah, I forgot to ask them to slice it, and was thus reduced to the tear-and-roll procedure. Rawr, I should know by now... (Although the Korean tissue package came in handy!)

At one point during my delusions, I'd considered staying for the night at a 49 euro/night quaint hillside hotel, but the signed indicated "Hotel Complet". So I walked around to the back of their balcony and took a picture instead.

Enfin, I didn't really fulfill my goal, hey? I guess I'll need to go on a non-Sunday.

Just like Igor said. It's all about the beauty in the everything around us.

It was like a veil over my head was lifted. As I walked to school this morning, I remembered that France wasn't so bad after all.

For the first time, a dogwalker smiled broadly as I walked past. Then I crossed an older, un-creepy man who smiled and nodded instead of looking the other way. It sounds so cliche, but as I walked by an elementary school, I heard the laughter of children; that made me smile too. I went to the cafeteria for the first time with my classmates, and chuckled at the system they used to dispose of our dirty trays. I stared in awe at the roman columns nestled in the trees at the fac. I almost stepped on a tiny dog that belonged to a nice elderly lady at the papeterie; his name was Toto.

My eyes have been reopened to the beauty of life. I'm gonna try and make it stay this way.

(PS sorry about the title, only the people who have taken a course with Bill Havens will have a clue)

* placeholder*

I'm in such a good mood, I even filled in (a couple of) the placeholder entries. Just like you say, Noah, it's pretty amazing that just the prospect of coming home has turned my life around. I feel (infinity + 1) times better.

I'm even skipping class right now, and I don't mind!

You guys! My dad just told me he'd buy me a plane ticket home for the holidays!!! AHHHHHHH

It's Saturday. I'm sitting out here on my roomate's terrace, decked out in a lacy brown tank top, chocolate cotton skirt, and blue surfer flipflops (never was one for fashion). The sun hangs high in the sky, warming my face and bare shoulders. Today, the torrential downpours and abnormally cold weather have finally ended. My midterms are over. I've finally found tapioca pearls to make bubble tea, after days of searching.

I should be happy.

But something is wrong. Very, very wrong.

I can't put my finger on it, either. It's an emptiness, a feeling of lack of feelings. There is a saying in French: "Je ne me sens pas bien dans ma peau."

I think back to when I was in Vancouver, and even when I arrived here in France. Usually I'm a happy-go-lucky gal, always resting firmly on the positive end of the teeter-totter (that's a see-saw, for you Americans out there). You could say my rose-coloured glasses were perma-glued to my face, and everything else I shook easily off like raindrops off an umbrella.

Maybe being in Europe has opened my eyes to more realities than I'd ever considered.

bbrr...the sun's hid itself behind a building, cold...

Suddenly my life seems so insignificant, tiny and useless. I go through the motions of eating to keep me alive, showering, going to school and church, and running errands. Hanging with friends provides momentary lapses of joy, but deep down, I still feel the same. Like something is missing.

What is wrong with me?

Making a list of must-see places before my life is complete:

• Barcelona, Ibiza, Sergovia, Spain
• Avignon, Paris, La Corse, France
• Rome, Venice, Florence, Piza, Italy
• Marrakech, Morocco
• Athens, Delphi, Thessaloniki, Greece
• to be continued...

I can't wait till next June. In the meanwhile, I'm still looking for something to do during the winter vacation, other than study for my January finals...