sans rancune

ricola (flavor seabuckthorn?): delicious. sambucus: charcoal

ines?, margaux and pwells at 66

p and jules at the rockabilly bar-

ondine sur le metro

porter naps, margaux finds teufs (party inversion)

and me making up my bed in margauxs house- the only presentable picture of me from this trip. thanks porter for the "ass" shot

yeah. cool. whatever.

the love is thick thick

this will be a picture post tomorrow.

i keep realizing that france is actually different from america. and that culture isnt an abstract concept. and its weird and great but i'm kind of over it. as stupid as that sounds, i did think that the differences would be ignorable. but france just feels so old. i mean no shit. but really. the language, the traditions, the way the people act/interact. it feels like everything my grandparents would have told me. like the guys are the same as they are in the old movies. and so are the girls? wheres the change? wheres the attitude and gender neutrality? fuck you i'm going to ask the taxi driver to change the radio station. and being "hard" is never going to work for you. you're french. you're pathetic. go eat some cheese and masterbate to how cool your country was in the eighteenth century. go protest something.

i dont want to go home, but i dont want to stay here. and i've got about two weeks to decide what my plans are for spring break. i dont know if anyone can be emotionally stable enough to amsterdam alone. maybe i'll get a hotel on the beach somewhere and just lay out for two weeks. or maybe i'll go to the other side and visit some english speakers.

aside: fellas- say you for some reason decide to talk about your previous relationships. you'd do best to stay away the topic of possibly getting a girl pregnant when you were twelve years old. or saying that you want to make money by being a club promoter with lots of hot girls everywhere and techno music- just like in budapest. and you should probably minimize the keri hilton song you have up on youtube. and dont act like a badass because you play poker in illegal clubs in paris. then say you know everything about women because you have five sisters and live with your mother who tells you all of her escapades.

i cant believe that i hang out with such spoiled brat eurotrash. find a car for me to drive. take me to dauville and let me spend your money. but please dont talk to me. its really hard to control my looks of distaste anymore.

and i really wish my french friends would stop calling me a junkie. its getting offensive and making me worried. i dont know if its just a translation thing or what but i'm kind of starting to take it personally. i'm sorry i sleep all the time but i'm not high like that.

okay. tomorrow pictures. i love france though. just love/hate.

bridges and balloons

so last weekend i went to paris, bought a cool army jacket and some awesome oxford shoes with weird granny heels that i'll probably saw off eventually, ate some good jewish food and some pretty good tartare, got sick from the vintage dust, found my new favorite store called Kiliwatch (best vintage store ever- a wall of leather skirts and denim shirts), rediscovered my distaste for large groups of people and metros and hearing english in france, saw gorgeous people that i was too nervous to ask to photograph, went to a rockabilly bar and took some green shots with the owner, met a 50-something spaniard who gave me the best hash i've ever smoked because i reminded him of a lion (my hair was curly) and somehow knew everything about me, and laid around being sick the rest of the time.

this week ive been trying to get better. drinking ass loads of tea and soup. bought some medicine from the pharmacy but none of it seems to really do anything. they're really different from america- you go up to the person and say what you want and they pick a brand for you. i'm sure french people know what kind they want but i kind of get my stuff par hasard. the lady gave me some disgusting cough drops. ugh theyre so sick. theyre brown and gooey squares. i'll put pictures up soon of everything ive been mentioning. its just a pain in the ass, you know. also, this week i decided i want to see how long i can grow my nails until i get too grossed out. i have way too much free time...

things i miss this week: walgreens or any other 24 hour drug store, my long hair, my incredible friends (they're the best the world has to offer, no doubt), spicy salsa (french people cant handle hot foods), carpeted floors, air ventilation, driving around (i really really really want to rent a car and go on a road trip- drake style)

things that are good: dimitri is a really sweet guy. and that makes me feel good about myself. and margaux might start dating his "flatmate" so that means doubledatessss! but he's always being all nice and wanting to do stuff and is romantic which is kind of weird (like cheesy kissing in the rain kind of stuff). he pretends to like my music- well i mean he lets me play whatever i want even if its weird joanna newsom at a party and he doesnt say like oh this sucks. he's really not my "type" (rich, business school, not a musician, wears diesel jeans, loves kid cudi) but i guess it wont kill me to hang out with some different kinds of people especially when he's cute enough to remind me about daylight savings time here. which is tomorrow in case anyone was wondering. had no idea it was different than in the states.
also ive started going to more classes, but my grades are still good so i dont really think my absences are going to be a big deal.

i just really want to get well. this coughing must be annoying to my neighbors. constant hacking and spitting and nose blowing. where does all this snot come from? im pretty postive its coming out of my eyes too.

well im sleepy and cant think of anything else noteworthy to mention. oh wait- i'm going to paris on april 3rd with my art history class to see the musee d'orsay and the opera! pretty excited to have some alone time to chill out there and not worry about following margaux's speedy ass everywhere. oh and i saw a really cool beetle the other day. (i am slowly but surely turning into my mother.)

wish you all were here,
xoxo,
sara

jeff goldblum

thibault and i are no more. the shortest relationship of my life (two days)! yes. i feel like i'm making up for all the middle school action i never got. the russian from saturday's party texted me immediately after asking if we could go on a date today. how adorable. the first time anyone's properly asked me on a date since andrew.
but today i felt like shit and couldnt bring myself to get out of bed. just slept like a baby until 5:30, with the help of benadryl of course. its not good to miss full days of classes, i know, but maybe i'll go to the doctor and get a note. probably wont. because i'm too lazy to do anything right. i think my medicine isnt working.
i already need a vacation. its just such a nusiance to get out of bed. if class could come to me, i'd be all about it. i love learning. just on my own time. which is whenever i stop hacking up my lungs. i think its all the pollution over here. i mean theres not many fumes to breathe in mississippi, aside from the ones you want. i wish everything/everyone would just leave me alone. i thought being in another country would help me hide.

but where ever you go, there you are.

pretty blogworthy weekend.

friday i bought some super awesome sandals, made two bracelets from the straps i cut off, bought some light blue, purple hair dye, then went to soft with franzi and porter. thibault's lying ass was there too, and we ended up going to this party at this gorgeous guest house behind this big blue door. this place is magical. you really never know what you're going to find once you start poking around (thats what she said). thibault decided to be my boyfriend, we listened to some cool music, danced around, i think i punched someone (boys here are pathetic and act really mean if they think you're cute) and tbo was all "sara you cant play their game. they like to make you mad. you drink too much, youre like a man"

i cant believe how many times boys here tell me that. "youre like a man" what does that mean? i wear makeup and heels and flirt and giggle how am i manish?

anyway after the party (where i left my coat and scarf...) i broke the rules and let him come to my room. i think the nuns are going to eventually catch on a kick me out. i'll be the american whore in the streets of angers.
woke up fully dressed from the night before even my belt and went to the market with porter and margot, my new french bff. its adorable. she wore my clothes and i wore her clothes last night. peas in a pod.

margot is twenty, speaks english really well because she lived in nyc and nashville, and listens to good music, likes lou reed, lives in paris, has a house on an island, a house in the alps, and is a badass. we're going to paris in two weekends. i kind of invited myself but i mean you gotta start somewhere?

yesterday basically revolved around finding sushi making stuff and me trying not to die in the streets from my gueule de bois. after almost losing my cool in monoprix, went home and slept it off. had little apetizers in margots chambre with her friends and got kicked out by the nuns. relocated to their apt and ate/drank/merried along. i almost had to cut a bitch when this french dude called me a cunt for seemingly no reason. i dont get it. i keep pissing dudes off, and i have no idea why. am i really that offputting? i dont know. sorry?

but then we went to the party and everything was cool. hosted by a rich russian named dimitri who offered to give me a key to his house so i can do my laundry there? so many cute boys. one was in a clown suit named alex. one looked like a french kurt d. some girl called me a whore because her boyfriend was talking to me or something? i dont know. when margot introduced me as her american friend they thought she was lying. even when i spoke english they were like nope, shes french. she looks too french. americans are fat and boring. all these stereotypes are so annoying. learned alot of new words and new cool things about stuff you never say in conversation. and last but not least smoked some ganja finally.
i cant even express how happy i am to have met this girl. and that there are at least some french people who like me.
tbo is the worst boyfriend ever though. but its so fun to say that. they dont ever just want to hang out or like eat or anything. thats fine with me though...haha. we'll break up when i get my coat back...well maybe not. its too perfect and hilarious. the way he dances cracks me up. all hip swivel put your fingers in the air and wave your head around like a snake.

oh i've started wearing my hair curly now since its short. hate to admit but i really like it. i think i'm going to get my ears pierced here too. i think long earings would be cool with my new look. i've never lived so hard before. livin hard. maybe i'll get that tattoed on my knuckles. after i dye my hair electric orange and buy a banjo, something ive been thinking alot about actually.

i'm getting to the point where when i think about certain people, only good things come to mind. like a happy i know you, dont care about the past or how shitty you can be kind of thing. its really nice to have found "peace" again. this week, i have two tests and am going to try to work on being classy/not pissing people off. sorry this blag is so long and unorganized.
bye!
s

honeymoon's over

i'm getting really sick of this place. culture shock. this is normal. blah blah blah. adjustment period. then acceptance. blah blah. but that doesnt change the facts. i miss home. i miss my friends. i miss my crazy fucking fun friends who listen to good music and smoke weed and dont care how weird i am. i even had a dream about oxford, rididng around in murbs car with kelsey and adelaide eating SONIC. god i would die for a coke float and some tator tots right now. and then i had a dream about sweating my ass off in the grove. like are you fucking kidding me? the grove. the last place on earth i like being when i'm home, i'm dreaming about because this place is just so lame. i miss sweet tea and southern accents and concerts and not being mentally exhausted all the time and sushi and chicken salad and meatloaf and my bed and your shirt that i forgot to bring and 3G and saying y'all and proper liquor drinks and not feeling like fresh meat when i go out.

dont get me wrong, i still love the candy (just ate two whole bars), wine, cheese, beer, and shopping. but some of the shit here gets on my fucking nerves. WHAT DO I HAVE TO DO TO FIND SOME ORGANIC TOMATO SOUP? and why are there so many types of fucking yogurt? grow up. yogurt is for toothless hobos. and y'all seriously dont need that many types of jelly. get over it. its just breakfast. and its not like y'all eat biscuits anyway. and the fact that nothing is open on sunday really grinds my gears. and that pharmacies dont sell over the counter medicine, only fancy skin products. and the construction along my walk to school and having to walk in the streets to avoid running into people.

and of course my wallet was "stolen" last weekend. well maybe it was lost, but i have no idea. someone bought me a "beer" and i dont remember anything after drinking it. woke up at a friends house the next day and had no idea what happened or how i got there. day after, retraced my steps to no avail, call regions and got my shit together. i have to get them to send me an official letter so i can pick up my primavera ticket since i need my old card to get the tickets- of course. apparently new card its going to be here tomorrow but honestly who knows. fedex guy refuses to give me the tracking number for security reasons?

maybe i'll try to paris this weekend or maybe i'll just spend too much money on clothes/makeup. anyway desperately awaiting me and lubankos european adventures- amsterdam, portugal, greece? and my trip to barcelona for music orgy of my life.

i smell like curry, and i like that.
till next time.
s