Sixth Days

I don't know why I'm typing this when I have absolutely nothing to tell you. I'm not in a philosophical type of mood, nor am I in a 'make you laugh with my sand-paper sarcasm' mood either, so I think we have found ourselves in a rut. Are you feeling that? I'm definitly feeling it. What am I sopposed to say anyways? That I spent 322.77€ (417.83$) on clothes last Wednesday? That my host family threw me a gigantic Thanksgiving party and finished the night with fireworks? That I now speak enough French to hold up decent conversations and address my needs as well as others? That today (Tuesday the 27th) marks exactly three months in France? That the libraian is currently screaming her brains out and I have no idea what she's saying but it could be important but probably not since she screams her head off every day? Have you noticed I seem to write most frequently in interrogative sentences? So yeah, basically a ton of things have happened and I shall brief them for your almighty pleasure. I can't, however, promise humor or a life changing experience right now because, again, I'm in no mood which may be the fault of this crazy librian.


Why I Spent 322.77€ (417.83$) on clothes last Wednesday

I don't have a good answer to this. 

Clothing here is so beautiful. Thick fabrics, classy designs, rich layers; this really is the fasion capital of the world. While there are many large malls and stores big enough, bigger even!, to imitate America, I prefer the tiny shops whose names aren't branded into every visible spot of their clothing. the botiques that sell only a couple of items but you better believe those items are good. Before France, I was buying my clothes from Hollister and Hot Topic. While I have nothing against jeans with more holes than there is fabric and t-shirts so bright, they glow in the dark, I am now addicted to the upscale style of the Frenchies and I don't think i could ever go back. the unspoke rules of what to and what not to wear (that I figured out the hard way), i now find myself following with ease and pleasure. I can't believe only last year, I was donning flipflops to school every day. LOL, what!? I remember sporting a t-shirt during my first week of school here. I got so many bizarre stares it was almost as comical as it was humiliting. Here, girls wear highheels and tight jeans with NO holes etched into them... ever! When it's cold out, fur jackets and wool scarves are put on, no big hoodies. I am not critizing the utterly laid back and almost non existant trends and styles of what I had learned in my old town and school and I am not advocating one over the other. What I am saying, is I find myself fitting in much better, clothing wise, here. Let's face it, I can finally wear dresses to school everyday without being labeled a "stuck up prep" and hated on by people who claim they hate haters... As if that makes any sense. (not like that stopped me from wearing dresses all the time last year). 

Oh look, I've talked myself into a huge clusterduck again! So what does this have to do with my spending more than 400 dollars on clothes last Wednesday? Absolutely ntohing! But I will type you up a shirt overview: I didn't have school Wednesday so natrually I slept in until 12:30 and after I had eaten a run and taken breakfast, my host momma sat down next to me and asked if I wanted to do anything before my French class. Well, I happened to need some WhiteOut since I had completely used my first bottle. (I don't actually use WhiteOut to correct mistakes, I just enjoy wasting it and painting my nails with it.) Anywho, my host mom said she would take me but first we had to take VictoiRe to her tennis lesson and pick up a cake. We did all that and by the time we got to the shops, we had both forgotten what I needed in the first palce but my host mother asked if I wanted to look at dresses for the Thanksgiving party and of course I did. We went in there and I saw a side of my host mom I had never seen before; I mean, this woman took CHARGE! It was a little botique that you might never find in a place other than the streets of France and the lady inside was more than happy to shove hundreds of things in our arms and shuffle us to the dressing room. I found myself trying on more clothes than I had ever even touched in my lifetime and with each one my host mother critqued and made me spin and studied the fabric, etc. etc. The ladies gushed over me and kept saying how nice everything looked and natrually, I bought everything they lunged at me. Now I have a nice new wardrobe and a strict rule from a not so happy mother in America not to spend so much as a penny until next year. The end.

Also, I still don't have WhiteOut.





I'm feeling lazy so I'm going to cut off here. I shall continue this.... later.