Bienvenue blog readers!

Last summer when I ended the blog after my “Maymester” in Vienna and late summer in Oxford I didn’t think I’d have the opportunity to do it again – but I thought quite a lot of things last August. So much can happen in a year, and so much did.

My goal this summer is to improve readability in the blogs by inserting more pictures, paragraph breaks, etc. These blogs can get rather lengthy and detailed, so I want to make it organized for easy flow so that readers can pick and choose what they want.

If more people than just my parents and aunts are reading the blog, then I am expecting a diverse audience to include:
- Aforementioned parental units and aunties
- Close friends/colleagues of my aunts and parents who have been forced to, and are subject to pop quizzes about my travels
- Adamo (a subject to be covered momentarily)
- Close friends who are dedicated enough to occasionally see what I’m up to, and put in requests for souvenirs (always welcome)
- The random UT professor on their lunch break
- Internet perverts and stalkers
- Ex-boyfriends or bad dates, some of which fall into the last category

And so the blogging begins…


Elaine State of the Union
Last August when I stopped blogging I had about a week to get my life together, recover from jet lag, and get moved back into school. I was a hardcore pre-med, just transferred into the Dean’s Scholars science honors program, still worked with rats in the neuroscience lab, and was about to begin my sophomore level classes. Just as the fall semesters always are, I spent the semester studying either organic chemistry or genetics and going to UT football games to watch adorable QB Colt McCoy.

After a small handful of minor stresses (sarcasm) I made near perfect grades as always. Then there’s the kicker: 4.0’s don’t make you happy. Surprise!

Over winter break I went into this huge quarter life crisis, and decided to drop pre-med for a list of reasons as long as the dictionary. In today’s society, no longer having any direction can be TERRIFYING. Yes, I may be only 20, however decisions to take MCATs must be made right about now or else you pass the point of no return. Over Christmas my whole family went into a conference about what the hell I could do with my life….

Then came Adamo.

[Half my blog readers will love this section, half of you should skip to the next one]

Must have been the mistletoe

My fall had also been full of bad dates. I’m not talking just dull dates, I’m talking about dates that left my friends rolling will laughter and me cringing in the corner. Basically I’d seen and heard it all. The last date of the semester resulted in someone writing “FanFic” about me in a blog, and made me want to give up dating all together.

I “met” Adamo as he was leaving Christmas Eve mass and I arriving early to save seats with my dad for the next one as all good Catholics do. His mom was my middle school principal and his dad was my lector coach for the youth group in high school. His parents introduced us as they were leaving, which was an odd introduction since we both knew exactly who the other one was, except we’d never actually held a full conversation.

Then he Facebooked me.

I played coy.

Then he IMed me.

I didn’t act overly interested. I let him have my phone number just on the chance he was going to be too bored at home over break.

Then he texted me.

He told me he should be allowed to come out with me and my girlfriends since he was an attractive Catholic Marine Officer.

I told him that this Blonde Catholic Co-Ed could hold her own.

We scheduled a date for Wednesday. By that time I wasn’t sure how it was going to go and got myself convinced it was going to be the worst date I’d ever been on…..we stayed up talking (yes, we were seriously JUST talking) until 3 a.m. When I finally got home that night my mom came running into my room half asleep to ask how it went. My only comment: he’s going to be dangerous. And he has been, ever since January.

Adamo is a Marine Officer in flight school. He’s still in the beginning of flight training, so he hasn’t been assigned an aircraft yet. Currently he’s in Corpus Christi.

How/Why I got to France

I threw out my life’s plans in December, and decided to start looking into other career options. To my surprise I loved organic chemistry, despite the fact that it was really challenging. I talked to Dr. Sessler (my organic professor) and my TA Elizabeth and discovered a program through the University of Florida that went to France involving research in chemistry.

I applied to several summer programs since my summer was no longer going to consumed by MCATs. Then I was “partially” accepted into the France program, switched to working in Dr. Sessler’s lab with a crazy Russian grad student named Vlad. The week before spring break I got final word I’d be summering in France.
The program is funded by NSF (National Science Foundation) and the French government. I’ll be doing research at the Louie Pasteur Institute in Strasbourg, France with a colleague of Dr. Sessler. My housing is paid for by the French and I get a small stipend for my work from NSF. The program also paid for a trip to Washington D.C. in April to get our visas and meet the other participates. I’ll also go to Gainsville, Florida to present my work sometime in the fall.

France already?

It may be cliché, but I cannot believe I’m here. Just last week I was studying to take my finals early and now I’m sitting in my room here in France. Expect for this reality to soak in sometime next week. As of now I’m still wrapping up loose ends for my classes via the internet. UT isn’t officially done until about May 20, and I left May 5, so I had to work a lot of details out with my professors.

Things were crazy: I had a professor not show for one of my finals and I literally was packing until 2:30 a.m. the morning I left at 5:30 a.m. I liked to say I was not “Elaine Prepared” for the trip, but my packing team and I made it work.

All throughout the airports getting here I saw military personally, mostly army, and when I finally saw an Air Force guy getting off the plane in Frankfurt I ran up to him like a fool to basically talk about the fact that I’m dating a Marine. Pretty sure I’m annoying all of the US armed forces, but who cares.

I took a bus into Strasbourg where Dr. Weiss was supposed to pick me up. As I got off the bus I kept scanning the crowd for someone looking for an American girl, but my gaze turned up unclaimed. Luckily in my paranoia, I saved his email (with phone number) on my laptop and was able to call him using my emergency only French phone.

He came right over and Jean spent the entire day showing me around and helping me to get all checked into my dorm room. He made sure I knew where the tram was, had tickets, and translated everything for me.

Living Arrangements

I live in the northern part of Strasbourg and a grand total of about 5 minutes from the grandeur of the European Parliament, which consists of several large, modern complexes. I also live close to a really expensive park district surrounding a large park, L’orangerie, which I have not yet had time to explore.

I don’t have a roommate, so yay. To put it nicely, my bathroom is ghetto. It’s co-ed for the floor, the toilets do not have seats (just the bowel) and you have to carry in your own toilet paper and stick it on a small peg. The showers are like the annoying sinks you have in the US where you press down and get water for about 5 seconds before it automatically turns off. The only way I can rationalize this set up is if it’s designed to encourage two people to shower together—one holds on the water while the other bathes. Oh the French….

First few days

It’s been nothing but a blur. There’s no internet in my room yet, so I have to go into the lab for a connection to the rest of the world. I’ve been studying for the remainder of my classes, sleeping at odd times (who am I kidding, it wasn’t jet lag, it was the end of the year crash) waking up in the middle of the night to French kids blaring 90’s rap music and so much more.

This week is basically a holiday for France. Thursday was the end of WWII celebration, and Monday is Pentecost so I haven’t had any work to do yet.
On Wednesday I went to a “BBQ” at the University. They served Merquez (a spicy Moroccan sausage) and instead of using hot dog buns we put them in sliced baguettes. Tres chic.

There are four other Americans here, and we’ve started exploring together.

My walk to the tram...

French Boys

I’m not sure if I’ve changed, or if the French are just that hard up for females – but I get hit on, a lot, here.

Pardon my candor, but it took me a grand total of 48 hours to see a French penis. While we were at the BBQ, one of the other lab group’s grad students were talking to us (the Americans) and the humor got a bit “French.” Apparently this one rather plump grad student showed up to work one day completely naked (not very MSDS lab appropriate) and the other took a picture on her cell phone. Their sense of humor is great and they fulfill all raunchy expectations Americans set for them. Shall I add, c’est petit…pardon moi. ;)

I’ve been using the internet at the lab, so earlier this week while I was on my way into the city the police came on to check everyone’s ticket since the system mostly runs on an honor system. Four men in their late 20s/early 30s got on to check the tram, and I’m thinking “Oh dear, did I do it correctly” so when they got to me they mumbled something in French, and given the situation I just said something in English and he very nicely responded “it’s ok, you’re ok” and walked on.

I continued sitting thinking how again this was a nice example of the general hospitality I’ve been receiving while in France. Next thing I know the guys were finished and one came to sit next to me and said “how do you do” and then said “I don’t really speak English” and smiled. Suddenly I was surrounded by all four French police officers having a conversation in broken French/English/German. They asked me if I was American, how long I’d be here, when I arrived, etc. Then my stop came and we parted with smiles.

Moral of the Story:
Getting around France is easy and welcoming when you:
1) Speak even a little French
2) Are a cute young American blonde


Then comes last Friday night. The other Americans and I had gone out to eat and to explore some of the downtown area, and I decided to go straight back to my room to study, write in the blog, and sleep early. They had given me a hard time, so when the knock came at my door I just opened right up expected it to be them.

Wrong.

There was a Moroccan, French guy named Ryan leaning up against my door with his elbow propped casually up high who greeted me with a “Bon soir” (good evening) and chestier cat smirk. Another conversation proceeded in half French, half English that basically concluded with “if you come down to my room you won’t need to sleep.”

This odd, get to know you situation was made even more amusing by the fact he had B.O. Needless to say he went back down the hall, and I stayed in my room.

Stay Tuned….

This blog is slightly incomplete, but it’s a start. Stay tuned, I’ll probably be back tracking on my last week in France and on more events that happened.

MissElaineous

Picture of the post....French kids are apparently naughty too.