Cait's Corner

One more small piece of you seems to fall into place.

2012-02-27T18:45:00.002-08:00

Sometimes, life is not that funny.

Sometimes, I literally look up and think, is this some sort of cosmic joke? Cause I am NOT laughing.

For example:

Sometimes, I run out of Diet Coke.

Sometimes, the guy on the muni smells like urine and trash. Usually, he is sitting next to me. Or practically on my lap.

Sometimes, there's typo in a client email, and I realize it the moment I'm hitting send.

Sometimes Glee is not new.

Sometimes, my hair is really, really grown out and I don't realize it until I'm horrified in the bathroom mirror.

Sometimes, I drop my iPhone in Safeway and screen cracks into a million pieces.

So sometimes, I need to find the humor in an otherwise unfunny day.

That said, I thought I'd share some hilarity throughout my day today, courtesy of the people I love the most.

It's kinda like "Texts From Last Night," but better.

(209) You are now. Have always been. And will always be. Boy crazy.
(415) I'm some kinda crazy, that's for sure.

(415) UGH I know. It was from a porn shop.
(208) WHAT?
(415) Yeah, like an erotic bakery?

(415) Do you eat macaroni and cheese?
(778) Yes, I like Kraft but real McCoys is so delish!
(415) You know what I love about us? I always ask you random shit and you NEVER ask why.

(208) ...she legit thinks color blind people can't see anything that's red or blue. Like, it just disappears.
(415) OMG nooooooooooooooo way.
(208) I'm serious. Like I feel like I'm being punk'd. Ashton?

(415) Yeah, we like have an understanding. I took the high road, and you know how much a girl hates to take the high road.
(760) Nice. How very mature of you?

(415) I don't want him alone at my house.
(415) Wait, Why? What do you think he's going to do, smell your sheets?
(415) ...Maybe!

I have SUCH a fantastic f(r)amily. I seriously love them. Thanks for making my day!

Wherefore Art Thou...Romeo?

2012-01-23T21:14:00.000-08:00

Okay, so I've totally fallen behind on my 30 day challenge. But for good reason!

I've been dreading day 3. "Describe your current relationship status." Ugh.

Well, as I'm sure you are well aware, I am currently, and perpetually single. So, instead of talking about the perfect guy (like anyone is perfect!) or how difficult he is proving to be to snag, I am taking this a different route.

Are you surprised? Well, you shouldn't be!

In church on Sunday, there was a lot of discussion concerning goals and becoming a better person.Which, let's be real, is kinda what church is about, BUT sometimes this sister just needs a reminder; apparently this Sunday proved to be just that nudge I needed to take a single step forward.

My parents were always telling us growing up that it's important to try and have the qualities you would like in a companion. I basically thought this was dumb because I thought it would be nice to have someone to balance out my basic nuttiness with some stability.

But as I've gotten older and more than just looks and a good trust fund have become important to me, I realize the value in the sage wisdom. It has, on several occasions, occurred to me that in order to match up with the "steady eddy" I love so dearly, I myself need to be more even keeled.

That said, I present you with my goals for 2012. I plan to have more/be more:

Patience: We could all use increased patience, but this one is for real. If I expect someone else to be have a loooooooooooong fuse with me, I need to return the favor. I have been super blessed to have excellent friends who truly exhibit ridiculous patience and I love them for it.

Kindness: Believe it or not, I can sometimes be a little judgy! (Shocking, I know). Though for the most part basically hilarious, this is definitely something that can be detrimental and relatively hurtful.

Honesty: You can rarely hide from the truth, it always catches up with you. There is no better feeling than when everyone knows the real story. This is a particularly difficult one for me. Not because I lie my way into or out of things, but because when things get personal, the truth often takes a back seat.

I'm not talking about padding timesheets or embezzling millions of dollars. I'm talking about the lie in bed at night and think about what's really going on in your life and what you are going to do about it. I guess it's more about being honest with yourself than anything else.

Frugal: We all know I'm terrible with money. This is the year I finally save some. Maybe. Probably. Hopefully. I'll try? I swear.

Selfless: When you're single it's hard to be selfless, because for the most part, it's just you! What do I want for dinner? What do I want to watch? What should I do this weekend? BUT if I get into the habit of thinking about others (like friends) first, I think it will help me consider someone else's feelings/dinner preference (in a proverbial sense) before my own.

Okay, I think that's enough goals. But you get the point, right?

Would A Rose By Any Other Name Smell As Sweet?

2012-01-11T18:59:00.000-08:00

So... I am already behind on my 30 day challenge, but here's to playing catch up?

Work has be absolutely CRAZY this week, not that its ANY excuse but I leave in the dark, dark morning and come home in the dark, dark night.

I digress. Day Two: Explain your middle name.

I was born in May. As I mentioned in an earlier post, I am Taurus through and through, from the stubborn tendencies to the unfailing loyalty.

That said, when I tell people my middle name is Mae, they always ask: oh, were you born in May?

Well, sure. I was. But that's a mere coincidence.

Mae is a family name.

I am merely the latest in a line of gals who bear the middle name Mae. I must say, I love that.

When I reached my mid-twenties (GASP!) I came to the realization that so many of my first real adult(ish) milestones have been reached as a Wallace. My first published story reads Caitlin Wallace, as well as my college diploma. Knowing that Mae will stick with me through the rest of life's big moments is the best of both worlds.

My mom and I have always been close, so I love it that we share a middle name. It feels appropriate to talk about her since today, January 11, is her birthday.

She and I share more than just a name. We share the same taste in movies, meals and muscle relaxants. We know exactly when to stash a Diet Coke in the fridge, purse or car. We both agree that the gift shop is really the most interesting room in any old European castle, even though it was likely built hundreds of years later.

We are both total anglophiles, and, to the astonishment of her current husband as well as my father, woke up at 2 am to watch Kate and Wills tie the royal knot until the final coverage subsided around 5 am PST.

I've always struggled with the whole, "things happen for a reason" concept, which is maybe why certain prayers have yet to be answered. I am undoubtedly being taught patience, trust and let's be real, life lessons; BUT there is no doubt in my mind that I was born into the right family.

I have my Dad's sense of humor and body (thanks for that?), but I'm mostly my mom. I like to think God knew we would need each other to make it through this life and on to the next.

Here's to my middle name and (hopefully) my daughter's after that.

**The photo above is of me, mumsy and her sister, my aunt, the last time we were all in San Francisco together. We were in the lobby of the Orpheum to see Wicked!

G.O.A.L.S.

2012-01-08T19:29:00.000-08:00

So, when you graduate college and enter the "real world," a funny thing happens.

You lose the will to live.

Okay, okay, it's not THAT dramatic. But things do change drastically.

A few years ago I read a blog post (that I have yet to come across again) about a girl who graduated college and found herself a few months later, sobbing in the shower. This gal had been a well-adjusted co-ed who found herself, soon after she left the safe confines of her college existence, lost and confused about what the next step was.

Sure, she had a job. She had friends. She lived on her own. Her life was, as they say, on track.

He whole life had been about goals. Go to kindergarten. Get to elementary school. Start junior high. Make the high school cheerleading team. Be asked to prom. Receive a college acceptance letter.

Find an apartment.Choose a major. Study abroad. Complete an internship. Graduate.

Get a job.

Okay so I made the last few parts up as they are applicable to me. But, you get the point. Hopefully, you see that all this is to say, I am feeling a bit aimless.

Sure, I love love love my job. I have fantastic coworkers and phenominal clients.

But a full life is well-rounded. Therefore, new year, new attitude. This year is going to be about goals.

But, I'm going to start small. I was on Facebook tonight and came across the blog post of a fantastic gal pal from BYU-I who has decided to do a 30 day challenge of posts.

The first day is the task of posting a picture of yourself and telling 10 things people might not know about you.

The photo above is of me in April 2010 on the St. Charles bridge in Prague, Czech Republic. It was one of my most favorite days, ever. Here goes:

10. I watch at least one episode of Gilmore Girls every day. It makes me feel like things will turn out okay.

9. I cry at everything. I cry when I'm happy. I cry when I'm sad. I cry during Grey's Anatomy. I cry at church. I cry when people talk about France. I cry when I can't get PeopleBrowsr to work. The Golden Gate Bridge literally makes me sob.

8. I can almost never turn down cake. Chocolate, vanilla, red velvet, ice cream. You name it. I seriously love it.

7. My mom is my best friend.

6. I love the rain. I'd take the rain over the sun any day. I love the smell of the pavement when it rains after it hasn't for a long time. I love the sound of the rain on the roof and windows. I feel like when it rains, everyone can start over.

5.Contrary to popular belief, my future husband does not need a trust fund or a Mercedes. Just endless patience, a sense of humor and long legs.

4.I have several serious vices, one major one is Diet Coke. My dentist has been scolding me since my late teens, but hey, I'm keeping him in business.

3. I have never understood why people in Australia are not upside down. The concept of gravity is just too much for me.

2. I would rather walk than drive.

1. I am allergic to Ibuprofen, which is in like every medicine ever. So please never offer me Advil.

So, that's it for today!

Why Being Single at Christmas Sucks.

2011-12-26T22:49:00.000-08:00

So, I’m basically pretty successful. But, you likely know that if you know me and read my blog.

I graduated from college, moved to San Francisco, got a job and have, in the last few months, managed to have several great things happen to me at work.

2011 has been one of my best years yet.

However, there is nothing like the holidays to make you realize you are severely lacking in one or more areas.

For me, one thing I can never seem to get right is my love life.

Sure, I’ve dated.

Well, been on my way to dating.

Er... laid the groundwork to be on my way to dating?

Okay, I don’t really date.

Other than two high school boyfriends and a slew of gay guys, the only consistent man in my life has been my father. Which, don’t get wrong, is great! I mean, he buys me stuff, cares about my life, helps me move, checks my oil, gives me advice about work etc.

Buuuuuuuuuut, as I round the bend of of 24th year of life, I certainly need someone else.

I’ll paint you a picture.

From the moment my trip home for the holidays began this year, my singledom stared me in the face.

I had to get my oil changed, because, as I’ve learned the hard way, that check engine light is not merely a suggestion. I thought to myself, if I had a boyfriend, this would definitely be a boyfriend-type thing to do.

But, there I was at 7 am, rolling into Noe Valley Auto Works with my hot pink Kate Spade purse and polka dot checks trying to convince an auto repair man that I do in fact know the date of my last oil change (which of course I only know in the context of which Cosmo magazine I was reading while I waited.)

Oh, don’t give me that look. That’s the same look my mom has when I tell her I want to get married because I seriously need a second income.

It’s not JUST about needing someone to meet the cable guy because I have a client meeting.

Which is where the holiday season gets to a girl. Really, it’s about needing an ally.

It’s about having someone to exchange a look with when a family member says something outrageous.

It’s about splitting a Xanax under the table.

It’s about knowing when to sneak into a guest room and split some See’s candy and Diet Coke.

It’s about having someone to crack up with at night by the fire after everyone has gone to bed about how crazy ( and semi-ridiculous ) the holidays can get and how you can’t BELIEVE your brother/sister/aunt/cousin did that/said that/thinks that.

It’s about laying in bed talking about Christmas when you were little and how fast the time has gone. It’s about telling stories that explain how you got from where you were to where you are.

It’s about remembering how beautifully BYU-Idaho was decorated at Christmas time.

It’s about having someone to rest your head on while you watch The Grinch for the millionth time and laugh at all the same parts.

It’s about not having to sit at the kids table; OR getting to sit at the kids table together with your niece just to catch a glimpse of what it would be like to be parents.

It’s about having someone to sit next to in church on Christmas day. It’s about having someone to hold the other side of the hymn book. It’s about finally being able to have someone to introduce the ladies in your parent’s ward to.

It’s about being able to say, WHY YES, I AM DATING SOMEONE.

It's about Christmas sex.

It’s about having someone to sit in traffic on the Golden Gate Bridge with. It’s about having someone to talk to about how gorgeous Marin County is and how many celebrities are always spotted out to breakfast there.

It's about not sobbing in the car when a Rob Thomas song comes on because you are such a "great catch" but no one seems to be fishing.

It’s not necessarily about having someone to split the driving with, although that would be nice.
It’s about having someone else pick the radio station for once, or suggesting we stop at the Starbucks in Willows instead of Williams this time.

It's about having someone to turn the lights on ahead of you when walk in to your freezing cold house.

And lastly, it’s about having cocoa together when you get back home and talking about how fast it went and how you can’t believe you already have to go back to work.

It’s not like I don’t like this time of year. I LOVE it. Christmas is the best ever. It would just be nice to have a boy to love it with.

Happy Holidays?

So I'm Basically An Adult Now, Right?

2011-12-11T20:37:00.000-08:00

HA. As my favorite 90s diva says, AS IF.

Though I do generally feel pretty far from adulthood, things have been feeling more grown up lately.

Let's start with my work holiday party last week.

You'd think after growing up going to church every week I'd be immune to a man in a suit.

As my favorite Glee star says, hell to the no.

See below for context.

Our Christmas cocktail soiree was held last Thursday on the top floor terrace of the St. Regis in downtown San Francisco. I was dressed to the nines in a peach-turned-salmon colored tapered flowy number with the gold toga shoes of a Greek goddess and party hair Blake Lively would kill for.

I was feeling pretty great.

Little did I know, my male cohorts (though few and far between in a female-dominated industry) were set to out-do even the best and brightest belles of the ball.

Most of them in tuxes, these twenty and early thirty-somethings were killin' a girl in their penguin suits, (I won't even mention their mad skills on the dance floor). Who knew these princes in hiding met their fairy godfathers in the bathrooms at work post press release?

Not I.

I took a few moments in between compliments to the boys and club sodas to take in the breathtaking view of the San Francisco skyline. My heart beat a little faster as I stared at all the lights on the buildings of my own concrete jungle.

Have you ever driven over the Bay Bridge? Similar to my experience at the top of the St. Regis, whenever I come out of the tunnel and onto into the four or five lanes that span the Pacific, I am always in awe of the vast chicness that is the city by the bay.

Whenever I am sailing along at 65 MPH (not speeding, Mom) I always take a few seconds to scan the buildings, Coit Tower, Alcatraz and, on a clear day, The Golden Gate.

As I stared into the night sky last Thursday, I thought, how did I get so lucky?

How did the stars all align and I am standing here, surrounded by wonderful, talented, smart, fun, kind coworkers who love each other (for better and for worse let me tell you)?

The same feeling comes over me when I cross the bridge. A feeling of pure adrenalin mixed with sheer joy and a little teensy bit of gut wrenching panic because there are days when it seems to good to be true.

Well, mostly. I mean, I have my ups and downs.

Some days feel like the work simply cannot get done fast enough or well enough. But, in my quest into adulthood, I take the good with the bad and, as Andy Grammar says, keep my head up.

Other parts of being an adult include knowing when you've perhaps dropped the ball, that being said, sorry it's been so long since I've written.

Getting my job at Access and moving down here was such a huge experience things got dicey for a while. But, I hit my 3 month anniversary there last week and have gotten into an incredible groove, so I believe it is time to resume our regularly scheduled programming.

I have decided to take up reading again. When I was younger, I simply devoured books. As I got to college, my reading skills were reserved mostly for textbooks (and for those of you who knew me in college know my study time left something to be desired).

I, of course, read the Twilight books in a matter of days, and the Emily Giffin Something Borrowed and Something Blue books at the gym during my summers on the eliptical. Right now, I am reading Mindy Kaling's (of The Office) new auto biography, Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me? It is HILARIOUS.

Other things I am doing: anxiously awaiting the return of Grey's and Private Practice, keeping up with Glee, working out, attempting to eat healthy and drop a few before summer, whitenening my teeth and keeping up my blog.

Check and check.

TV is the Mirror of our Lives

2011-07-25T23:06:00.000-07:00

I feel more and more like Rory Gilmore every day.

Let me explain.

I have always been a TV and movie fanatic. I like to think that from an early age, I knew a life of media and pop culture was to be my destiny.

Take for example, the early days of T.G.I.F. I used to live for that line-up of Boy Meets World, Step-By-Step, Full House, Dinosaurs (talk about a blast from the past!), Perfect Strangers and, in the later years, Sabrina, The Teenage Witch.

The best part about the half-hour sitcoms is that they were often mini time capsules of our life and times during that decade. One will never forget that late eighties Farrah Fawcett hair DJ Tanner used to rock, or those crop-tops Dana from Step-By-Step used to sport.

One of my all times favorite shows from the 90s is of course, Boy Meets World. In those days, there was a moral lesson to be learned every show, and Mr.Feeny never gave up on the budding young starlets. In fact, my love for the show was re-affirmed when I read a fabulous post on USA Today college entitled, "Everything I need to know in life I learned from Boy Meets World."

Now that I am older, I am hooked on Grey's Anatomy, Private Practice, Drop Dead Diva, The Office and of course, Glee. I find myself often relating to various aspects of each of my favorite characters.

I like to think I have Merideth's patience, Christina's stubbornness, Addison's strength, Jane's poise, style and confidence, Rachel's heart and Kelly Kappor's love for all things girly.

The point is, I can always see some of myself in many of these characters, and I often think, if they can do it, so can I.

It may seem odd to draw strength from actors playing people who don't really exist, but as Sean so fatefully said during an episode of BMW, "TV is the mirror of our lives."

**Please note that my own house style negates the need to add quotes to TV shows as AP Style would suggest in an instance where there are so many shows listed.

The Princess Diaries: Why I Love Wills and Kate

2011-07-17T19:14:00.000-07:00

It’s no secret that I am obsessed with this dynamic duo.

I’ve been talking about Wills and Kate ever since their engagement was formally announced last November, and more so in the past four months as their wedding has been planned, performed and now, passed.

So, why the fascination-like, what’s the deal?

Well, there are several factors at play here.

First and foremost, I have always been an anglophile. Not to be confused with an anglophone -though I am one of those too by virtue of my US birth-but a person who has a fetish for the Brits.

I went overseas for the first time in my life when I was 15, and it was a trip with mumsy to jolly old England.

The minute we landed at Heaththrow and met my Aunt (who by the way was a total trooper driving in her wrong-side-of-the-road Volvo), I knew it would change me forever.

Those two weeks were the start of something new. Since my Aunt and Uncle were amidst their tour with the Air Force, we had the fabulous opportunity to stay in a charming English cottage in the most darling London suburb.

We spent our days riding the train into London, jumping on the tube, visiting the British museum and of course, found ourselves at Harrod’s far more than was appropriate.

As dramatic as it sounds, those two weeks were a turning point for me. I knew I needed more than an entire life spent in the States. I felt like I was destined to be an ex-pat; maybe not forever, but for spurts of time.

Back to the Duke and Dutchess.

When mother and I were across the pond, Harry and William were everywhere. On postcards, in the media and on my boy-crazy teenage girl mind.

Turns out that year was Will’s first year at St. Andrews, and Harry was only two years ahead of me in school. Most people bade me farewell with a “try and woo a prince,” or “if you see Wills, get a picture.”

Even here in the States, we have always kept an eye on those real-life princes. They are the fairly tale of my generation.

More importantly, let’s talk about my admiration for Kate Middleton.

Not only did she have the patience to wait just shy of a decade for her charming prince, she did it with style, class and the perfect stilettos.

Humble and unassuming, Kate has been all smiles ever since the pair announced their engagement and she began her stride into the life of a full-fledged royal.

You can always count on her pearly whites to flash during any and all official palace engagements; plus, she and Wills manage to be practically giddy when they sneak in a sweet smirk (or smooch!) during their everyday not-so-private life.

At the risk of sounding like the side of Starbucks cup, the way I see it is this: Kate is in love with William despite, and not because of, his status as the future King of England.

By all counts, she appears to be hardworking, humble, devoted, tenacious, smart, sweet and willing to go the extra mile for her hubby-which I think is an excellent relationship quality whether or not your husband is royalty.

If you haven’t noticed, the press seems to be unnaturally obsessed with how Kate does all of their grocery shopping-and I think this is why. The fact that Great Britain still has a King and Queen is, in and of itself, a little old-world (read: ridiculous).

Not to mention the fact that they employ hundreds (probably thousands) of servants, ladies-in-waiting, housekeepers, nannies and various other waitstaff for the upkeep of their homes and families.

This wouldn’t be a big deal or seem out of the ordinary, until you hear the story of how Prince Charles never put the toothpaste on his own toothbrush.

Yeah, that’s real.

Wills and Kate are determined to be different, and I love it. Kate does all their cooking, Wills has a career in the Royal Air Force (remember, they postponed their honeymoon because he had to be back at work on Monday?) and famously, instead of wedding gifts, they asked for money to be donated to their charities.

Basically, I could go on and on. Speaking as a former British colonist, I can say I whole-heartedly approve (and obsess over) this match.

May their rein as Wills and Kate be long and fabulous... and may Kate continue to single-handedly bring back the nude pump.

How Diet Coke can make you a better person.

2011-06-08T19:50:00.001-07:00

Americans are afraid to be alone.

I’m serious.

When was the last time you went to a coffee shop BY YOURSELF and stayed to drink your caramel macchiato?

Never, that’s when. I’m sure of it.

On Monday, I was driving home from work and couldn’t bring myself to just go home. I wanted more than just three hours of Gilmore Girls, an hour on the treadmill and then bed.

Don’t get me wrong, I love Lorelei and Rory more than LIFE, but, as my fellow intern Lauren said today, “after so many episodes on Bravo, you start to hate yourself just a little bit.”

So true.

Cue Monday evening, when I decided to get adventurous and take the exit to downtown Davis. I knew where Chipotle was and figured I pick it up and take a book in to read while I ate--the ultimate shield for someone eating alone.

As I walked to the register, I found my self saying “to go please.”

I chickened out.

I had forgotten my book and wasn’t ready to eat sans something to read. But as I went to the soda fountain, I was like, I just paid $2 for this soda and if I leave I can’t get a refill.

Damnit, I’m staying!

I took a seat at the counter and began to munch on my burrito bowl. As I looked out the window, I reflected on how awkward I felt about being alone. Was that my personality, or something more?

I think it’s a little of both. We live in a culture that seems to think being in a cafe or restaurant alone is somehow a reflection on who we are--or who we’re not.

One thing I learned to cope with daily in Europe was being alone. Yes, I had Sarah and Nikki, but sometimes, I didn’t. More often than not, people sat alone in cafe’s and restaurants and people-watched.

Granted, staring is a cultural norm in France, Spain and Italy...so the people watching is far less creepy and much more accepted across the pond.

About halfway through my meal, I began to feel more comfortable with my loner-self and reflected on what the day had taught me. I thought about the spreadsheets, the clients, the billing codes and what my life is like now that I am in the field.

Before I knew it, Steven was calling me. I happily answered his call and we chatted about my fairly hilarious circumstances--being all alone in a town where I know no one.

Truth is, experiences like that help us grow. If we are never alone with ourselves, how do we ever get to know who we are outside of school and work and relationships. I think one of the most important relationships is life we can foster is the one we have with the person we see in the mirror ever day.

So here’s to eating alone--try it, I dare you. Even if it is only for the Diet Coke refills.

First week, plus grad ketchup.

2011-06-03T22:36:00.000-07:00

Wow, life is good.

I always totally judged those people on Facebook that were like “I’m not lucky, I’m blessed,” and “I love my crazy beautiful life.”

It’s like, :eyeroll: puh-LEASE people, get it together( read: no one cares ). PLUS Facebook isn’t the place for that. In the words of one of my favorite fellow TGC alums, Megan Pouliot, get a diary (or a blog! hehe) .

But, here I am. Telling you. That things are going pretty dang well. Lucky for you, if you are reading this, it’s likely you like me enough to be curious about what’s going on...I’m not some random on your newsfeed.

I’m done with my first week at FH. After I found out I got the internship, I was telling people that it “couldn’t have worked out better,” and that “if I 100% had my choice of things to do after graduation this would be it,” and after this week, I mean it more than ever.

Best company. Best co-workers. Best clients.

I am learning so much every day, and get to be a part of a really wonderful thing.

Sacramento is great.

Living in Davis is a nice summer gig, but I am definitely already planning my exodus to midtown in August. The commute is some good thinking time, but I’d really like to live in the city.

So, that’s the present. Let’s rewind.

The last few weeks of school were a blur. Saying goodbye to the study abroad crew was totally tragic, but felt really right because everyone is moving in such a good direction. Big things are happening.

Got my grades, passed all my classes...so win on that. I for real graduated.

Graduation was a marathon of a day--heck, a marathon of a weekend. Lucky for me, I had wonderful friends to throw me a party, (royal wedding themed), hang with me endlessly and take me to an unforgettable brunch (i’m going to be a doctor!) and plan foreign excursions for this summer, next summer and summers after that.

HUGE thank you to the following: Sarah Best, Meghan Mattingly, Sarah Mann, Steven Carroll, Dan Hurst, Chris & Denis Carroll (next time your at the house i’ll fix your transmission!), and OF COURSE my wonderful family...whom I love so much.

Stay tuned for more fun internship posts! Be sure to check out my posts for FH on www.sacfoodies.com.

The post-grad PR persuasion

2011-05-24T17:35:00.000-07:00

So, where did I leave off? Oh yes, the internship.

Lucky for me, I got the big envelope this time. What a relief, for both me and my parents.

I start May 31, just 10 days after I walk across the stage.

Landing a job post-graduation is something I have been losing sleep over for many, many moons. Now, however, I drift off before those sheep can even think about trotting into my subconscious pasture.

Change is good.

I have, in the past month, encountered a new phenomenon surrounding my post-grad plans...how to explain to people what exactly my new job IS.

Conversations go a little like this:

Well-meaning friend, acquaintance, co-worker or family member: So, Cait, what are your plans after May 21?

Me: I got a great summer internship, I’m totally excited. It’s with a public relations agency in Sacramento, and they work with mostly food and wine clients. It’s going to be a blast.

Right after the words “public relations” leave my lips, my co-conversationalist’s eyes glaze over.

Well-meaning friend, acquaintance, co-worker or family member: Oh...that’s nice.

<---------------------long pause---------------------------->

Well-meaning friend, acquaintance, co-worker or family member: What exactly does that mean?

Fact #1 of life as a public relations practitioner: the general public has little to know idea about what we do, aside from the “whole Charlie Sheen thing”.

The ironic thing about this profession that works so hard to make its clients transparent is that PR itself has an image problem.

Often, the general public views the gatekeepers of reputation management as purely damage control. The superhero’s that rush in when Lindsey gets arrested (again) or Britney drives-thru with her kid on her lap, sans seatbelt.

First of all, aforementioned people are publicists, which represent a teeny, tiny portion of those in our profession. The general graduates of PR programs across the country will never defend Paris Hilton’s honor or manage Zach Efron’s Twitter account.

Most of us will lead quiet lives of media outreach on behalf of our clients. The majority of the class of 2011 will spend our days meeting with our clients, doing everything we can to get the positive things they are doing covered in the media.

Public relations professionals are very much storytellers. We package our clients so the general public can see what they are all about. We build media lists so we can pitch stories to local papers, news stations and these days, bloggers.

Basically, we get people not on our client’s payroll to vouch for our clients--tell the community who they are and what they do. We aren’t advertisers. We are the liaisons between our clients and the public they serve.

At least, this is all what my education and internship with Tehama Group (see below) has lead me to believe my chosen career will entail.

A week from today, I’ll find out if it’s true. I'll keep you posted.

Lessons Learned

2011-05-24T17:24:00.001-07:00

Everything I know about the real world I learned from Tehama Group

You’ve seen those shirts, right?

“Everything I need to know about life I learned from my cat...” Stuff like that.

Well, I’m here to say that after the culmination of six years, two schools, two study abroad programs and countless classes, the real thing that prepared me for life post graduation, was Tehama Group.

Here’s my top four:

1. How to work with a team. Like, for real.

I know, I know, everyone loves a Chico grad because we are so social. But working on a group project for a teacher is a totally different ball game from working with a team that truly wants to be there, is qualified for the job and is working for a paying client. Sure, you sill have to deal with missed deadlines and over-scheduled consultants, but the work is quality and you can rest assured the whole project won’t fall on you.

2. How to manage time.

And with that goes how to not manage your time. Taking on too much is something I am classically known for, and this semester has been no exception. Learning to say no is a talent I have yet to master, but it’s something I know is applicable in the work place. For this semester I can successfully say: lesson learned.

3. How to be a better communicator.

I am professional communicator, so how could I need help? Trust me, I did...and I still do. I have always been the group leader and so learning to work on a team where I was simply a consultant was part relief, part balancing act. I had to learn how to “communicate up,” which basically means keeping my account lead informed on all my movements concerning our account. Since I was used to being the one who was communicated to, this was a lesson in learning to keep my team leader updated.

4.How to be a creative problem solver.

When you are in class, your future is up to you, so far as your grade is concerned. You can always turn to your teacher for guidance and ask if something is right or wrong. However, being plopped in front of clients and being expected to produce something that is worth their time and money is a different ball game. Knowing how to quickly field questions and think on your feet requires preparation, knowledge and a general ability to perform under pressure.

So there you have it folks. My life lessons, learned in the four walls of Tehama 310.

How getting the small envelope can change your life, too.

2011-04-19T13:35:00.000-07:00

In an instant, everything can change.

April 11 started out just like any other Monday. I had my 8 a.m. job hunting class, followed by my Monday morning Tehama Group staff meeting. I had nothing in particular to look forward to as I headed to the Study Abroad Office to work my usual 10-5 shift.

I breezed into the office, sat and talked with Jenn for a few minutes, then headed to my desk. Shelby was sitting in the back, which is unusual this semester, and so we chatted about the weekend, this coming week, and as always, graduation and life after school.

I got up to go to the kitchen to make oatmeal, and glanced at my phone as I came back to my desk. In the minute and a half I had been cutting my apple, soaking my oats and popping a bowl in to the microwave, everything had changed.

I had a missed call and voicemail from a 916 area code.

Sacramento.

I picked up my phone, and my heart started beating a little faster. I looked at Shelby and breathless said, “I have a missed call and voicemail from a 916 number. What if it’s Fleishman?”

“There’s only one way to find out,” she confidently replied.

I held my breath the entire time I listened to the voicemail. It was like in high school when Ms. Jackson announced the cheerleading squad. I’m surprised I didn’t faint; both then, and now.

The call was from the intern coordinator at Fleishman-Hillard, and she wanted to talk about the internship. Fear and doubt gripped me as I considered the possibilities.

Was it so close she was calling everyone, regardless of whether they got the internship or not?

...was she calling to offer it to me? Did I dare let that thought enter my mind?

“It’s them,” I said.

“What are you waiting for?! See what they want.”

I headed out to the hallway on the fourth floor of the Student Services Center. This sacred, carpeted, hallway is a place I’ve paced many times, staring out the glass windows at the quad below, watching the students pass in and out.

I hit the call button, and waited as the phone began to ring.

As I listened to the first ring, my mind began to wander to how I got to this point.

Oddly enough, I didn’t picture my successes.

No where in my vision was the day in senior English I found out I got into BYUI, or the night in Rexburg my dad called to say I got a letter from Chico State, and it was the big envelope.

My mind did not replay the warm spring day I was accepted to the IP program in Aix-en-Provence, or the birthday in Paris when I got an email from the study abroad coordinator writing to invite me to work in the office.

The phone rang a second time.

I flashed back, instead, to my senior year of high school when I got rejected from BYU, and then two years later, wait-listed for their study abroad program in Paris.

The pain of getting cut from the cheerleading squad sophomore year flowed freely. I even went as far back in my pensive as sixth grade, when I got cut from the basketball team.

All of these setbacks devastated me equally.

At the time, they seemed like the end of the world. I will never forget the way my heart sunk and tears stung each time my name was not called, or I got the small envelope saying, “close, but no cigar.”

“Good morning, Fleishman-Hillard,” the receptionist answered.

What I didn’t realize then, but came to realize as I waited to be connected to the intern coordinator, was that each of these failures opened the door for me to pick something else.

My rejections weren’t so much failures as opportunities to find something better, something more me. I am learning that it's not really about what you want, it's about the plan for you.

As it turns out, all the other things I was forced to choose led me to this very moment: 23 years old, standing on the fourth floor of the Student Services Center, pink iPhone in hand, holding my breath.

New York City: Concrete jungle where dreams are made of.

2011-03-19T21:35:00.000-07:00

Virgin America has on-board wifi. How fab is that?

At a comfortable cruising altitude of 35,000 feet I caught up on this week’s Glee and Private Practice. I checked my email, updated my Facebook status and retweeted my work Bible, the AP Stylebook.

This is just the latest in the luxuries afforded by the quirky new carrier. The also offer free music, satellite television and endless Diet Coke. Win.

Why am I telling you this, you ask.

Last week was my final spring break as an undergrad, so I decided to spend it networking, researching and deciding what to do with my life. Yikes.

Up until a few days ago, I thought moving to New York for a (dream) job was a possibility. I went to the city that never sleeps to see if that dream was reality.

I was lucky enough to jet set to the Big Apple with the other consultants of Tehama Group Communications, the student-managed PR agency for which I am social media director.

Monday morning, 10 PR pros in training met in the lobby of the Hotel Edison on 47th St. and Broadway. I’m sure we were a sight to see: a gaggle of California gals giddy with excitement at the prospect of traipsing around midtown Manhattan for the day.

On our agenda was three informational interviews with TGC alumni at Tiffany & Co., Hearst Publications and ABCNews.com.

Before five o’clock, we had covered 15 city blocks, taken pages and pages of notes on how to land a job in entry level PR and make invaluable connections that can and will serve as great resources through the years.

Tuesday was filled in much the same fashion. We had interviews at Edelman, Access Communications and W Hotels.

All through the interviews I kept thinking how proud I was of what these women have accomplished. All of them have been in my shoes: attending Chico State, landing a position in TGC and then making their way in the world.

It was truly inspiring to hear their stories of uncertainty, adjustment, hard work, tenacity and finally, success.

Exhausted and aching from two intense days, we fell into bed Tuesday night looking forward to two days of freedom in one of America’s favorite cities.

Wednesday morning dawned cold and rainy. We strapped on our rain gear and headed to the subway to start the day in Greenwich Village, at the apartment of fictional columnist and famous New York City diva, Carrie Bradshaw.

A few blocks down from 66 Perry Street is another famous New York landmark, the Friends’ building, which resides at the corner of Grove and Bedford...which of course we marched up to and discussed whether or not it looked the same as it does in the show (it does).

We spent hours and hours pounding the pavement of New York City. We took countless subways uptown, downtown and everywhere in between. Our money was spent inside vintage shops like Shareen Vintage, restaurants like Boyd Thai and Peanut Butter & Co., and purchasing souvenir’s at the NYU bookstore.

As I sat on the plane Friday morning, watching The Warblers perform Maroon 5’s “Misery” and replying to internship emails, I could barely contain my excitement to be getting back to the west coast.

Little did I know I was coming back to west coast and the worst weather ever. I might as well have stayed in New York City.

Sam is the new Finn

2011-02-15T23:45:00.000-08:00

I've got the fever.

If you were born before about 1997, you may be thinking: well if her temperature is up, she should go to health center, that's nothing to fool around with.

I'm not talking about anything above a 98.6.

I'm talking about 16 year old heart throb Justin Bieber, who's fans have been known to fall ill with the ailment, "Bieber fever."

Catchy, eh?

Sarah and I were seeing a movie a few days ago, and a trailer for Justin's new movie, Never Say Never was in the lineup. The opening scene is a little boy drumming on a kitchen chair and singing. He looks and the camera and says, " hi, I'm Justin."

I leaned over to my roommate and whispered,"oh, a movie about Justin Timberlake! Finally."

I've never felt quite as aged as I did at that moment.

Well, the next moment really, when I realized this was NOT about the 'NSYNC star of the late 90's.

It was a about a barely-gone-through-puberty feather haired child who sings about his first love when he was 13.

That was TEN years ago. TEN!

Naturally, I have to see the movie.

Even more so now that Glee has highlighted the not-yet-legal Bieber this week, with Sam performing his far more than famous single, Baby.

Speaking of Sam and bringing the heat, man can he make a girl swoon.

I used to be 110 percent team Finn. I loved his tall-ness, his innocent eyes, and the way I felt when I was around him....uh, er, I mean, when he was on screen.

Yeah, uh-huh.

I used to tell people I loved that Finn was perfectly imperfect. He made mistakes -like when said the F word to Kurt, RUDE- but in the end, he has a heart of gold and an absolutely wonderful sense of right and wrong.

As I got to know Finn -I might as well give in to the delusion-, I really related to the giant Canadian for one solid reason: his judgement was consistency flawed, but he had the best of intentions, always.

So is mine, and so do I. Thinking you have a good head on your shoulders and actually making accurate and appropriate choices in all the right places are two different things.

BUT lately, Finn has been a total letdown. He insists on telling Rachael how wonderful, talented and beautiful she is, but always keeps himself just beyond her reach. Wasn't I just mentioning delusions?

Totally. Unacceptable.

Plus he's clearly encouraging Quinn to cheat on Sam, which he knows is wrong and only leads to pain and suffering for EVERYONE.

Also, Quinn is borderline worthless, so it's almost like, really Finn, you want to bark up that tree again? Just for some lame-o fireworks?*

It's like, how could you do something if you know it will hurt someone?

Isn't it hard enough already to keep everyone happy?

But Sam. Oh, with that smooth blonde mop and those huge kissable lips.

Sure he doesn't seem to be the brightest crayon in the box, but I'd take kindness over brains any day...then again, I'm not Quinn Fabray.

*This comment in now way reflects Rachael's performance of Katy Perry's Firework, or Katy's version. Those were boss.

Bién- Être

2011-02-13T16:19:00.000-08:00

Translated from French, meaning to be well.

Most of my life I have been described as high strung, chatty, wound up and bubbly. I have a lot of energy, to say the least.

This information was never news to my parents during parent-teacher conferences in elementary school. I can’t tell you how many times my parents heard the words, “Caitlin is a bright girl, but we can’t get her to be quiet.”

As I have moved into my adult life, not much has changed.

Luckily, my constant need for communication has turned into a career, only now instead of passing notes, I send e-mails and instead of disturbing others during class, I tweet to my co-workers, update my Facebook status and blog about my life.

To be honest, you would be hard-pressed to find PR pros that haven’t spent their lives being told they talk too much, their term papers are too lengthy and they can’t turn off their BlackBerry.

Life as a professional communicator is fabulously rewarding, but there is a danger in being a social butterfly on high speed: burn out and over-stimulation.

It can happen to any guy or gal who has ever slept next to an AP Stylebook in the hopes that the capitalization rules fly into his or her brain, and it can creep up on any account executive who has more than five sub-folders in an inbox.

Is there hope for the busy bees of the business world?

Oui, bién sûr.

Ironically enough, I discovered the joys of de-stressing while I was studying abroad in southern France last year. You would think traipsing around the French Riviera would be a year full of long nights at cafes, lazy days on the beach and baguettes three meals a day. In reality, it was nine months of language acquisition, hectic travel and cultural adjustment.

While poking around Provence, I stumbled upon an English bookstore and a book by an English author, Isabel Losada, titled, “The Battersea Park Road to Enlightenment.”

The cover depicts a seated blond woman, legs crossed Indian style, with her arms out in a classic meditation pose, complete with touching pointer fingers and thumbs.

That’s exactly what I needed at the time, and most days, it’s exactly what I need living the hectic agency life back in the States.

Losada took me through her 14 phases of enlightenment, which were enriching activities that broadened her mind, expanded her horizons, cleansed her soul, and at one point, her colon.

At the end of the book, her basic premise was this: Take time for your well-being, and become the most enlightened version of yourself.

We cannot be at our best if we do not fully commit to taking care of what we have so carefully and diligently invested in: ourselves. It is too difficult to give our time and talent if we are constantly over-scheduled.

I spend most of my days with my iPhone buzzing several times an hour, my to-do list growing longer by the minute and my business casual wardrobe becoming threadbare with use, and truly, I love that lifestyle.

But like any constant communicator, I need a break from my hyper-organized Google calendar to indulge in a chai tea latte while reading “Eat, Pray, Love” and rejuvenating my soul.

Pad Thai: adventures in southeast Asia

2011-01-25T22:57:00.001-08:00

I don't eat weird food. I never have.

While I was abroad, I stuck to a safe staple: margherita pizza.

It didn't matter if we were traveling to Paris or Prague, Florence or Amsterdam, if there was a pie with mozzarella, tomato and basil, it made it's way into my mouth.

Sarah, being younger but wiser, always ordered the boeuf bourguignon in Nice, fish and chips in London, gnocchi in Venice and schnitzel in Germany...all while I was wasting my time not culturing my pallet and certainly not broadening anyone's horizons...so much for stepping outside a girls' comfort zone.

Insert fret and regret here.

BUT, instead of torturing myself with the terrorizing trifecta coulda', shoulda' woulda', I decided to right my wrongs and get on a path.

A small footpath, mind you. But be sure, it's headed somewhere.

The first stop on my road to recovery was to try Indian food.

Um, what? Isn't that little intense, you ask. I was wary. Luckily, I work around a group of truly well traveled individuals and I have access to the best advice and first hand knowledge about where to get the right food in this town.

Enter Kevin, peer advisor to southeast Asia. As an alumni of our USAC program in Bangalore, India, he suggested the staff head out to the Indian food buffet at Cafe Culture, a small restaurant located within walking distance of our office.

Best.Idea.Ever.

However, this post is not about Indian food, it's about Thai food.

Second on my list of must haves was Thai food.

Not because I was particularly interested in yet another Asian invasion, but because it was Frank's birthday, and we decided that it was only appropriate to take him to to dinner at his favorite Thai place in town, Sophia's.

Generally, I shy away from places I've never been, as far as eating goes. This is especially true when they have an address that includes Nord Avenue after the street number.

As I pulled into what appeared to be the driveway - I use driveway loosely, it was more of an alley-my eyes fell on the two other cars in the parking lot - and by parking lot I clearly mean slightly bigger alley where cars park.

Here's what I was expecting to walk in to: a tiny, probably smelly, maybe musty, likely chintzy room with spicy, hostile noodles, chicken feet soup and perhaps a precious fish dish of some kind.

Sophia's was definitely not any of those things.

Walking in was like being transported back to my time in Europe, which is weird since it was a Thai place. The thing is, our time overseas was spent finding hidden gems down back alleys, in corridors and around shadowed corners to find the most authentic food, and of course, my pizza.

I had no idea what to get. Everything sounded like it would burn my mouth off, which wasn't as enticing as it sounds. I was worried that my lips would be on fire and my nose would be running just looking at the curry dishes. Cute.

I decided on the Pad Thai, which is s a dish of stir-fried rice noodles with eggs, fish sauce, tamarind juice, red chilli pepper, plus any combination of bean sprouts, shrimp, chicken, or tofu, garnished with crushed peanuts, corianderand lime, the juice of which can be added along with Thai condiments.

It was uh.maiz.ing. It came as a heaping pile of beige-brown noodles covered in red sauce with red peppers, crushed peanuts and a myriad of new flavors for my delicate taste buds.

Pad Thai had me at hello, in a proverbial sense.

It was a picture perfect blend of firey spices, peanut saltiness, saucy noodles and red-hot chili peppers, which all hit my tongue like a ton of bricks as soon as my fork passed my lips.

Not only was Sophia's a great experience to expand my palate pleasures, it was a lesson in friendship, and the importance of f(r)amily.

F(r)amily is a term I found deep in the pages of Cosmo. I coined it with my BFF's and made it a part of the words I use every day, to describe the friends I love and lean on whilst away at college.

The importance of a college network full of f(r)amily members has become more and more important as I have gotten older.

There comes a point in your life when you no longer list your mom as your emergency contact, and when you need to change your tire, you don't call your dad. You list your roommate who has been on a 16 hour train ride to Prague with you as your emergency contact, and you call your boyfriend to change your tire.

As we all sat there around the table, with our mouths on fire, eyes watering and food being passed around like a family at Thanksgiving, I realized how these great friends have truly become my family.

San Diego: A Whale's...Lady Parts

2011-01-20T18:30:00.000-08:00

Before you get offended, please travel back in time to 2004 and recall the wildly popular Will Ferrell movie, Anchorman: The Legend of Ron Burgundy. The movie tells the tale of an outrageous newscaster in downtown San Diego. Turn those hour glasses even further to recall the film is set in the 1970's, and has the toupees to prove it.

All of this is to say that last week I visited the city "which course, in German, means a whale's vagina."

My best friend and roommate in Chico, Sarah, grew up in Encinitas and her parents continue to reside there. Often during breaks at the holidays, I like to get out of northern California and head south, where the Mexican food is straight across the fence and the weather is continually 70 degrees.

Nikki, our third traveling companion last year in France, joined me on my flight from Sacramento. This was my second time traveling to San Diego on Southwest, and let me tell you, they have yet to disappoint a girl.

The Diet Coke is always crisp (vital) and the peanuts are always plentiful. PLUS Southwest keeps it real with the classic airline snack, which makes a seasoned traveler feel at home when a bag of peanuts is tossed over her sleeping, drooling neighbor (and yes, I am talking about Nikki).

After our long, drawn out totally treacherous hour and ten minute flight (read:sarcasm), we arrived at SAN and set out for a mid-day meal in Hillcrest, which is undoubtedly the gay-friendly 'hood, with its Urban Outfitters on every corner, French restaurants, men in tight jogging shorts and rainbow flags waving proudly.

Our lunch, to say the least, was uh.maiz.ing. We had a giant oval-shaped 1/2 BBQ chicken 1/2 pesto bruchetta pizza at the 4 star rated joint, Pizza Fusion. We loved this perfect-for-a-lunch-date place for its gluten free menu, soy cheese options, save the earth mantra and organic veggies on every slice. Oh, and the waitress had dreads. Win.

After lunch, we hit Buffalo Exchange, which is a not-your-average-thrift-store type of joint, specializing in recycled designer threads. Last time I was down there, I got a Vera Bradley wallet in Pacific Beach for $19. Yes, PLEASE.

Wednesday morning I woke up with Los Angeles on the brain.

Recently, Sarah and I have decided we want to move to LA this summer; which for me means post graduation and for her means summer internship. City of sun and sand, here we come!

Why LA, you ask? It's far, far away from here.

Don't get me wrong, my heart beats for northern California, and always will, but the itch to be somewhere new has crept up on me in the last few months, and I'm yearning for a different adventure.

PLUS.

LA has more job postings on Craigslist than any other city west of New York.

What a lot of people don't know about the PR industry is that there are so many sectors of the biz.

Though all cities have ALL categories, here's a few IE's: San Francisco frequents tech jobs (hello Silicon Valley!), Sacramento agencies have food and wine clients up the whazoo, and LA is fashion forward, lifestyle and celebrity PR.

What says Caitlin Wallace more than fashion, lifestyle and celebrities? Not much.

I've been obsessed with Kate Middleton ever since she and Bill vowed to seal the deal, I've @'ed Chris Colfer so many times on Twitter that I'm expecting his restraining order via USPS any day and I knew Lance Bass was gay before he frosted his hair in the late 90's.

I have a gift for celebrity gossip- I can see it now: PR pro to the stars.

The three of us spent the day galavanting ( as we so often do ), with lunch on the way to LA at The Cliff in Laguna, which has oceanside dining and an avocado spread to absolutely die for.

The must haves on the menu are: The Southwest Chicken Wrap and The Turkey Wrap (try the fresh fruit OR the fries). Don't even get me STARTED on the sun-dried tomato mayonnaise!

See lunch options.

Thursday morning, we hit one of our favorite hidden gems, Saint Tropez Bakery and Bistrot.

Not only have I been to the cafe's namesake, but the minute I walked in, I felt a stab of homesickness for my time in Provence. The tablecloths were a delicate yellow with olive branches, just like all the fabrics in the boutique shops from Nice to Avignon.

The glass pastry case in the shop filled with the glazed raspberry tarts of our past lives as students on the french riviera washed waves of familiarity over us as the pink, green and brown macaroons stared back at us just like they did in Paul, our favorite patisserie in Aix-en-Provence.

Along with morning tea at Saint Tropez, riding The Coaster downtown is a must do in San Diego. For about $12 roundtrip, you can ride from north county (Carlsbad-Encinitas) to downtown, sans traffic and gasoline. The train follows the tracks oceanside and takes about 45 minutes.

If serious shopping is what you're into, look no further than Horton Plaza. This outdoor shopping mecca has some of the best stores and selections of anywhere I've been, and is well taken care of, due to to it's roots in the Westfield family.

I fell in love with downtown San Diego, before we'd even reached the famous Gaslamp Quarter, which is often considered to be the heart and soul of the city.

Friday morning, we arose early to catch our flight back to the Northstate. The familiar security measures seemed gloomier than before ( and not just because we were felt up by TSA ) as we left our wonderful vacation behind.

One of catch 22's about traveling is that just when you think you need to take a trip to satisfy a need, you get on your returning plane or train yearning for your next adventure.

I often find myself telling future study abroaders that I went abroad to see Europe, because that's really all I wanted to see; I thought a year over there would quench my thirst for world traveling, but as I returned home, all I could think of was all the places I have yet to see.

“Adventure is a path. Real adventure – self-determined, self-motivated, often risky – forces you to have firsthand encounters with the world. The world the way it is, not the way you imagine it. Your body will collide with the earth and you will bear witness. In this way you will be compelled to grapple with the limitless kindness and bottomless cruelty of humankind – and perhaps realize that you yourself are capable of both. This will change you. Nothing will ever again be black-and-white.” – Mark Jenkins

* Also a HUGE thank you to Mark and Virginia Mann. As always, you were truly wonderful hosts and I appreciate your willingness to let us spend our holidays in your coastal villa.

When Nouns Become Verbs: How Language Keeps Up With Technology

2011-01-05T22:19:00.000-08:00

"Well, right after she facebooked me, I googled the best places to live in the south bay. I told her she could always just jump and Craigslist and creep out some apartments for him...whatever works."

Wiki-wha?!

Because of my experience traveling (and living ) in places other than the good ol' US of A, I know what it's like to struggle through a language barrier. I've played my fair share of charades games with shop owners, waiters and French teachers in order to get my point across...but what happens when the words of my own language start to blur?

The advent of social media changed the way Gen Y-ers talk (and write ).... to each other.

As a child born right in the middle of Generation Y ( 1982-1995 ), I started my MySpace page when I was a senior in high school (2004-2005), and had to wait a few weeks until my university made it onto the exclusive Facebook network (2005).

I remember MySpace before you could customize your background, and Facebook when you had to have a college e-mail address to join.

Though MySpace is virtually extinct, Facebook is alive and well; Mark Zuckerburg was just named Time Magazine's Person Of The Year for 2010. Though I would love to go on and on about Facebook (due to my mild obsession with Mark), I'll get back on topic.

The term "MySpaced" came about as a short cut for, "he wrote me a message on MySpace", or "she commented on my MySpace page"

...soon this snowballed into, "he facebooked me," " facebook messaged me" and later, "she facebook chatted me".

So I ask you, when did Facebook become a verb?

Did it slowly creep up on us with the advent of texting? It seemed innocent enough to relay something someone "texted" you.

(Texted is even more hilarious because it delves into the fact that it's past tense of a non-existant verb...texts are just that, TEXT..like, words on a page...HOW is that a verb?!)

Was it when Google became the universal search engine? It seems like I say "I'll just google it" at LEAST twice a day.

(Also hilarious because Google is the name of a COMPANY. It's like when people claim they need a Starbucks when I KNOW they mean they need COFFEE)

Was it when LOL because so universal that our Gen X parents understand it, even TEXT it to us?

Or perhaps when Twitter limited us to 140 characters?

And speaking of Twitter, why do tweeters "tweet" and not "twit" or "twittered"?

I twittered it. That DOES sound dumb.

Is it just slang? For now, I think so.

If I was writing to a teacher, no WAY would I write that someone facebooked me...my spell check doesn't even recognize it. I would write the long hand version, stating that someone wrote me a message on Facebook.

Social media isn't going anywhere. Despite news stories about social media coming into conflict with the workplace, it can absolutely help people and businesses market and promote, as well as reach out to a large audience on a more personal level. I mean, let's be honest, I follow Chris Colfer on Twitter, that's real.

Moral of the story, Gen Y's, aka lovers of all things social media, can turn anything into a verb. I personally am guilty of just plain making up words. I even turn verbs into adjectives when I can.

As a lover of language, I say bring it on.

(Can you believe after all that I ended my sentence with a preposition?)

I knew you could.

Modern Girl Seeks Soulmate: Inquire Within

2011-01-01T21:37:00.000-08:00

I'm a pretty fierce college co-ed.

By the time I turned 23, I attended a four year college in Idaho, transferred to a state school my parents no where near approved of, lived on my own in Europe (twice!) and saw the world to the tune of 12 countries and 17 major European cities.

I've lived with 25 different girls ( including Steven ), have a resume with ex-employers that include Macy's, Gap, Starbucks and CSU Chico, and am managing to graduate from college with two bachelors degrees, one of which insinuates I am fluent in a foreign language.

Quite a catch, eh? You'd think so.

A recent discussion with my nearest and dearest Sarah B got me thinking about online dating.

You heard me. I SAID online dating. If I were to create a profile for match.com, what the heck would it say?

Let's start with what I'm searching for...said application might look something like this:

Soon-to-be college grad seeks...man.

Must be fabulously wealthy, or make up for lack of wealth in some other way (ie Jim Halpert). Must have kind parents and large(ish) family, who can accept an outrageous daughter-in-law. Must love (or at least know about?) Glee. Must be steady and rock solid in life and loyalty.

Men should only apply if they have the following qualities: a sense of humor, an interest in social causes, an ability to (mostly) always do the right thing, a love for travel and all things study abroad, compassion for all people, true kindness, and (let's be real) endless patience.

Men who are un-interesting, bigoted or overly prideful need not apply. Also men who do not want children and men who have little motivation are discouraged (read: forbidden) from applying.

Now, what kind of girl are these guys applying to date?

Chico State senior, class of 2011. Double majoring in journalism & pr, french. Social Media Director, Tehama Group Communications.Travel enthusiast. Lover of all things European. Twitter addicted. Chocolate obsessed. Diet Coke fueled. Sucker for a social cause. Reader of celebrity trash. iPhone app goddess. Foursquare mayor of Nordstrom. Newly into Indian food. Keeps sweaters in her stove. Fine. Fresh. Fierce.

Likes: pink, glitter, lipgloss, sunglasses, travel magazines, juicy couture & polka dots.

Dislikes: cold weather, awkward moments, hangnails and misplaced modifiers.

If interested, please send application and resume....

SO. The more I thought about creating an online profile, the more fun it became to really think about who I am and who I think I'd go great with (apparently this is like picking out a great outfit).

I recently had a co-worker (the same one who made the Starbucks comment) ask me if I knew what I really wanted. Not in like an "out of life" sense, but as far as the whole boy thing goes. We were chatting about a guy I had a crush(ish) on, and I couldn't decide what I would even do if said guy were interested. Like for days and days I debated...hemmed and hawed, if you will.

It's had me thinking for weeks. I know what you're thinking, oh em gee Caitlin can focus on the same thing for longer than a few days? YES, and how very rude of you.

Being the rational and level-headed individual that I always am (ha!), I naturally turned to my horoscope for some insight. Gypsy magic, here I come.

Turns out, Taurus's LOVE stability. They are one of only two signs that make the best matches with one of their own (the other sign is Aquarius). Is this pure narcissism for both signs? Maybe.

Taureans thrive on fierce loyalty and the knowledge that they can always count on their partners; most descriptions of Taureans state they make the best companions because they are loyal to a fault, and generally expect the same from their partners...making them difficult to please if they are involved with someone more flighty.

And you know what? Dang it, I DO love me some stability. This was undoubtedly the deciding answer to my co-worker's inquiry.

*As a side note, Taureans are also known for their laid back, tolerant personalities and ability to be diplomatic.

Stubbornness and general resistance to change can be negatives in a Taurus, as well as being too predictable.

Also to note, we are hardworking and often successful, but can be decadent and self-indulging.

I fully encourage all the singletons to ponder what their application/match.com profile would say. It was a great lesson in self-exploration.

A Girl's Gotta Pay The Bills

2010-12-30T22:45:00.000-08:00

Staff Potluck, Fall 2010

The Gals, Welcome Back Party, Fall 2010

Staff Christmas Dinner, Dec 2010

My Bosses, enough said.

SAO Staff, Welcome Back Party, Fall 2010

Student Staff, Spring Orientation

President Zingg and I

Peer Advisor Night Out (One of Many)

Shasta Caverns, Sept 2010

...and boy do I have an expensive lifestyle.

Even sans the great credit card max- outs of '08-'09, I still have trouble keeping up with the Jones's, in a proverbial sense anyway.

In a literal context, I'm just a poor college kid with an unfortunate taste for couture... aren't we all?

Luckily, I am without any decent places to shop, so True Religion jeans go un-worshipped and Tiffany's is just a 1/4 karat glitter in my sparkling eyes.

This post however, is NOT about dreaming of Juicy. It's actually about work...which is related directly to the green goods.

I recently quit my job working for corporate America -the "man" as a current co-worker so affectionately called it. Rude.- making lattes and dealing with cranky coffee drinkers of all ages and incomes marching in the doors of Starbucks.

While working for the coffee giant gave me all the social stimulation I could handle (and more), I just couldn't swing working in a green apron and on campus at the Study Abroad Office - plus that little thing called school.

Isn't that what I'm actually paying for? Talk about the green goods.

Since resigning my post as a professional barista extrodinaire, I have really been able to focus on my job as the International Intern Coordinator for study abroad.

All that extra time (as if) also gave me the time I needed to land a solid spring internship as the -drum roll please- the Social Media Director for Tehama Group Communications, the award winning, student run PR agency on campus.

As this semester came to a close, however, a Lorelei Gilmore quote kept playing in my mind:

" I want to stay here, in this place, just a little longer."

Late November and much of December was a total blur of serious classwork deadlines, Christmas cheer overload, stressful secret santa shopping, menorah lightings, flight delays and the need for happy hour on a Tuesday afternoon; despite all of that, I spent much of those last weeks observing my life and f(r)amily, wishing I could freeze us all together, in that place.

The only other semester I can remember feeling this way about (aside from my time overseas) is my second fall in Rexburg, at BYUI. It was me, Emily, Hannah, Alli and David against the world.

This fall, it mostly felt like just me against the world, but as I look back on the Monday morning staff meetings, Saturday orientations, Wednesday nights at Tres Hombres and countless hours at and around megadesk, I realize it really was us, trying to live our lives in the States, while our hearts were always somewhere else.

MOW: Love and Other Drugs

2010-12-05T23:50:00.000-08:00

Size does matter.

Yes, I am talking that that outer appendage that seems to guide the hearts, souls and minds of the patriarchs of our society.

One such example of a hormone driven XY is Jamie Randall (played by the Jake Gyllenhaal) in the latest and greatest romantic comedy to hit the big screen, Love and Other Drugs.

Set in 1996, the movie takes viewers through the day-to-day life of a pharmaceutical rep in the earlier days of pill pushing, when Prozac was a new phenomenon and before Pfizer pens were in every desk drawer in America.

Gyllenhaal, a new rep on the force, works his way onto the prescription pads of his doctor clients, and into the pants of their secretaries by laying on the charm of those big blue eyes.

During an effort to woo a doctor into prescribing Zoloft, Gyllenhaal meets an early onset Parkinson's Disease patient, Maggie Murdock ( played by Anne Hathaway ). His efforts to woo are then directly focused on her, and he succeeds, falling for her (for real) in the process.

Gyllenhaal and Hathaway have undeniable chemistry, and it helps that they are half-naked for the better part of the movie. Their lust is temporarily put on hold when Jamie ( Gyllenhaal) drags Maggie all over the country trying to find her a cure, when really he is trying to soothe his own anxiety about her serious condition.

These days, I don't really love a love story, but there's something oddly real about Gyllenhaal and Hathaway. His underlying insecurity (always?) and her desperate fierceness to remain independent as her disease takes away her dignity feels less Enchanted ( Patrick Dempsey, Amy Adams) and more My Big Fat Greek Wedding.

Just two fairly ordinary people with ordinary jobs, who find themselves fighting a common battle: being in love.

The final scene shows Jamie chasing after Maggie, who is in a bus to Canada to get drugs ( a not-so-subtle jab at the pharmaceutical industry and the state of American health care), where he promptly orders her off the bus and claims he can't live without her.

The best part of the movie: when Maggie asks Jamie to tell her four things he likes about himself. I've started doing that.

MOW: College Grad Gets Job

2010-11-29T22:03:00.000-08:00

...No, I'm not talking about me.

The grateful grad I speak of is Becky Fuller (played by Rachel McAdams) in the latest comedy-gone-drama, Morning Glory.

Glory starts off with the librarian status ponytail sporting Fuller getting laid off from semi-decent job at a New Jersey news station during a meeting she assumes was called to offer her a promotion.

Oops.

A few weeks and 300 resumes later, Fuller is interviewed by a large and successful station for a position at a failing morning show.

She practically has to beg the producers to give her a chance, and when he tells her the pay is practically nothing, her desperation gets the best of her as she agrees to take the job despite its downfalls.

First day jitters don't get Becky down as she meets her nutty and demanding anchor, Colleen Peck (played by the wonderful Diane Keaton), and is shrilly screamed at from a basement dressing room for attempting to get the show's ratings out of the toilet.

Fuller's perky determination gets the best of her when she, in order to save the show, contacts an old has-been reporter, Mike Pomeroy (played by Harrison Ford, swoon), and demands he help a girl out, as he is still on contract with the station, and will terminate his employment if the station offers him a job and he turns it down.

Reluctantly, Mike joins the less-than-hard-news morning show, Daybreak, and spends weeks and weeks barely participating, fighting on-air with Colleen, and generally making Becky's life more of a living hell than it already is.

A highlight of the otherwise painful-most-of-the-time film is the love story between Becky and a darling blonde journalist-reporter type who works on the millionth floor, Adam Bennett (played by Patrick Wilson).

As their relationship deepens, so does Becky's devotion to the station, and they spend many a night over chinese take-out while she checks her buzzing blackberry and watches the news out of the corner of her eye.

Early one morning, Mike lures Becky up into the catskills for a "breaking" story. Though reluctant, Becky agrees to dish the dirt, whatever it is. They arrive at the governor's mansion in upstate New York, only to out him for some kind of financial scandal, to which Pomeroy has already alerted local media...needless to say, the scoop saves the show.

Pomeroy and Fuller have a quasi heart-to-heart after the governor's bust, and he warns her against the dangers of working too hard and devoting too much to the station, because in the end, it won't love her back like Adam does.

gLeeK

2010-10-27T23:36:00.000-07:00

Why are TV shows about high school so popular?

You know what I'm talking about.

The most current (and favorable) example of this phenomenon is the hit FOX show, Glee. The hour long mini-musical episodes follow the trials and tribulations of high school life, seen through the eyes of the Mckinley High School Glee Club.

Like many televisions shows that have shaped American culture, Glee masks underlying adolesent themes into its witty characters and quippy one-liners. The pilot episode of the show tells the story of a jock that loves to sing (High School Musical, much?) but is too afraid to show his sensitive side.

Since then, the show has dealt with teen pregnancy, homophobia, stereotypes, racism, divorce, socioeconomic prejudice and other societal issues facing this great nation, all while breaking into song before every commercial break.

So what makes shows about high school so damn interesting?

Personally, I think it's the characters.

They're what keep me going, especially in Glee. I love a good male lead ( think: Derek Shepherd, Grey's Anatomy) and Finn Hudson, (played by Canadian Cory Monteith,) is no exception.

Hudson is a downright gorgeous, tall, hunk of a man, who says silly high school boy things and has a heart of absolute gold. He falls in love with the pushy, snotty, and downright selfish ( but ridiculously talented) female lead, Rachel Berry (played by Lea Michelle).

One of their best lines as a couple is:
Finn: You're a controllist.
Rachel: Controlling. Controlist isn't a word.

Alongside Hudson is another loveable male lead, gay teen Kurt Hummel (played by Chris Colfer), who is constantly dealing with issues surrounding his sexuality.

Hummel is a fiercely emotional, hilariously quotable dream of a teen, who sometimes gets in over his head when he lets his pathos- driven side take the wheel.

The previews for Never Been Kissed, which airs November 2nd, show Kurt considering switching to a more affluent (and what he believes to be) more accepting high school where an out, proud, and quite darling gay character attends.

Kurt deals with a lot of things that are on the minds of gay (and straight) teens today when it comes to acceptance, self confidence and knowing who you are.

Hummel is a shining example of someone who isn't afraid to be different.

The FOX hit is not a show about rich teens in Orange County or scandalous eleventh graders on the Upper-East side. Glee is about the insecure quarterback of the football team, and the president of the celibacy club who gets pregnant her junior year.

Shows like Glee that reflect pop culture are like time capsules we can take into our later years.

Remember Saved By The Bell, The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air and Boy Meets World? These are shows the babies of the 80's can keep for the future to remember the 90's by.

The cultural references in these sitcoms can transport us back to whatever cultural revolution that decade was in the midst of.

Glee is no exception.

MOW: The Social Network

2010-10-17T19:36:00.001-07:00

You don't get to 500 million friends without making a few enemies.

These days, even my mom is on Facebook. My MOM. I wonder if Mark Zuckerberg ever planned on his mother "friending" him when he invented the popular social networking site in his college dorm room at Harvard University.

It seems like Mark didn't have much time to plan when he designed and launched The Facebook in 2004. According to The Social Network, Zuckerberg, (played by Jesse Eisenberg) along with his best friend (and later CEO) Eduardo Saverin (played by Andrew Garfield), put the site together within a few month's of Mark's meeting with the Winklevoss twins about their idea "The Harvard Connection", a social networking site designed exclusively for Harvard, and the actual launch of the site.

The plot of the movie follows Mark, Eduardo and the "Winklevi" twins through the time line between the launch and extreme success of the site, to the legal action that ultimately took place between the four Harvard undergrads. The twins sued Zuckerberg for theft of intellectual property, and Saverin sued his best friend and former partner for cutting him out of most of his share of the company.

An interesting twist to the story is the role of Sean Parker (played by Justin Timberlake), founder of the downloading music site, Napster.

According to the movie, Parker met with Zuckerberg, convinced him to drop the "the" in front of Facebook and take the company and idea to California, specifically Stanford University.

Parker eventually sets up meetings with half of the investors in Silicon Valley to get Facebook off the ground financially, and drives Mark and Eduardo further and further apart emotionally. Eduardo is no longer involved in most of the business deals, and Parker worms his way in, both as Zuckerberg's friend, and as a shareholder in the company.

The entire movie is a flashback during the two trials the four men are facing. As the lawyers are conducting the depositions with Mark, Eduardo and the twins, the events take place in everyone's memories.

Zuckerberg is portrayed as an amazingly intelligent, slight social outcast with a popular friend and a great idea. His character gives hope to all men who didn't get the letter slipped under their door from the exclusive collegiate club, and who aren't on the university rowing team.

Here's to you Mark.

August, September, October...

2010-10-16T12:18:00.000-07:00

Shasta Caverns!
One of Shelby's amazing international dinners!
The Study Abroad Team! I adore every one of these amazing people! Me and my Brit, Abby!
Top of the falls!
I ran into Ayaka on campus, and we took a photo!
All the fearless hikers!

So, I've been neglecting my blog! This has been such a crazy semester with working at Study Abroad, Starbucks, and my heavy class load. It has been the busiest semester of my LIFE!

It has been great, don't get me wrong. I LOVE my job at Study Abroad, and I'm taking two great PR classes, strategy and publications. Both are really difficult and time consuming, but I am learning a lot.

I have also had the chance to go to San Francisco with the on campus PR agency, Tehama Group Communications.

We have visited Mozilla in Mountain View, Gladow-Nead in the city and Kimpton Hotels & Resorts in the city. All of those companies have TGC alumni who work there, and they were all totally gracious enough to spend some time with us talking about their lives and their jobs.

I have been thinking so much about my future life in the PR industry. There are so many options! I know I want to work in San Francisco. I would love to go into hospitality PR (after going to Kimpton) or consumer PR. Most agencies in the city are in tech PR, which would be really interesting! I love my Mac computer and don't know what my life would be like without technology!

I have been working a lot with the program inDesign in my PR publications class. I have gotten to make a full color ad, a tri-fold brochure and some fun letter head designs! It feels to great to be learning a skill...besides learning French of course!

Speaking of French, I miss France! I miss traveling, and walking the streets of my beloved little town, Aix! It has been great to be home, but I am getting that familiar itch to travel! I know it will be a while before I get back to Europe, but I think about my time in France almost every day!

That's why I love working in the Study Abroad Office. It is so amazing to work with the international students!

For those of you who don't know, I am the coordinator for the Buddy/Mentor program at Chico State. This is a program where American study abroad alumni get paired with an incoming international exchange student and become their built-in friend! It is a great chance for both American and international students to broaden their cultural horizons and get to meet more people on campus.

It's a great chance for the international students to get opportunities to hang out with American students and really get integrated into American college life.

We have all kinds of adventures enjoying what I call the "splendor of Northern California". We hike, swim, eat, play and enjoy cross cultural communications.

I has been a great eight weeks. Here's to the next eight!

A Quarter of a Century.

2010-08-15T22:15:00.000-07:00

Meg and I at the Bear for Sarah's 25th.

Drinks by the shore!

Harrah's....post buffet. I was like DYING.

Sarah and I at Crush 201 for her actual birthday.

What could be better?

Life is uncertain, eat dessert first.

The gals and I went to Lake Tahoe for the weekend of Sarah's 25th... it was a blasty-blast!

The weekend got off to a rough start... as in didn't happen.

The original weekend we were planing to go, Sarah's Grandfather died, and we had to postpone our weekend of fun in the sun so she could attend his memorial service. Once we heard the sad news, Meghan and I quickly made plans to push the festivities back a week.

FINALLY, the Friday we had been waiting for practically all summer had arrived, and we piled into Sarah's ice blue civic and set off!

Sarah and Meghan had been telling me about the glorious and amazing buffets in the casino hotels, so naturally the first night we were there, we HAD to have dinner at Harrah's! It.was.amazing,

As per usual, I totally went for the GOLD, and ended up feeling sicker than EVER as we finished up the evening. I turned to Sarah and uttered the immortal words: Can one just lay down at a buffet? Like, do you think it would be appropriate?

We spent the next two days laying in the sun, reading our Sophie Kinsella novels, and enjoying the heck out of each other. It was the perfect relaxing vacation, which we ALL needed, especially Sarah, who works a million hours a week and is ALWAYS taking care of other people!

It was so different from my Euro adventures because we like literally just laid around for two days. No museums, no train tickets...just Starbucks every morning and sunburns (oops!) in the afternoons...I loved it!

The Monday after the trip was Sarah's Grandad's ash-scattering in San Francisco. She was already headed to Sunnyvale, so I hitched a ride with her to visit Steven, since I haven't been to see him in Santa Clara yet.

We had such a great time gal paling around Santana Row (the shopping center where he works), and I got a GREAT Vera Bradley lunch tote.

All in all, great summer getaway!

Final Fling Before The Ring.

2010-07-14T12:27:00.000-07:00

Team Stephanie!

The gals!

This is so awkward but I HAD to put it up

Sarah being blindfolded to do her pinning

Everything should be pink and sparkly

Last weekend was Stephanie's Bachelorette Party. It was so much fun!

Big shout out to Sarah for being the best Maid of Honor, EVER! She ordered all these fun, bachelorette party-themed (if you catch my drift) items, and it was totally embarrassing for everyone, but quite the good time!

We played "pin the manhood on the man", which was fairly outrageous. We had to pick our own "manhood" (or have it picked for us, in my case) to pin on the poster. Mine was bacon and eggs, because Sarah knows I have a thing for bacon. We then had to tape them to us as name tags and wear them out...my tape "fell off" so I shoved it into my purse as soon as I could ;)

We also had fun blinking pink rings that we wore on our wedding ring fingers...

they were so cute! We found them at Michael's one day randomly and HAD to have them!

Sarah and Meghan also made everyone matching "Team Stephanie" shirts in the spirit of Eclipse and team-claiming. They were darling!

The night was a total success. Stephanie and Mike got married on Sunday, and it was amazing and she look so beautiful. Sarah made the cake it was GORGEOUS.

The Twilight Saga: Eclipse.

2010-07-14T11:49:00.001-07:00

Alyse, Ashley, Derrick and I supporting our teams.

Voting Station!

The Gals!

So, everyone knows I love the Twilight books. Ever since I picked up the first book at Target ( just to read at the gym, mind you), I have been hooked!

As a disclaimer, I know they are written for 14 year old girls, but let's be real, we're all 14 year old girls at heart, even in our 20's, 30's and 40's. I have read all the books many, many times.

The third movie, Eclipse, came out on June 30th, and I was working the night of the premiere, so my co-worker and I decided to have a little fun with all the "twi-hards" and make it an Eclipse themed shift.

The night before we were to work together, Alyse (my supervisor) and I talked about making a voting station for all the fans to declare their love for either Edward Cullen or Jacob Black. We bought red and black m&m's and made a display for the hand-off plane so the voting could begin!

The day of our close together, Alyse and I met at Hot Topic and purchased shirts declaring our respective teams, I OF COURSE, bought a shirt with a huge photo of Robert Pattinson on it...Alyse is a team Jacob kind of gal...RUDE.

There has recently been a phenomenon called "Team Switzerland". It comes from a quote that Bella says in the book about being neutral territory between the vampires and the werewolves. Being the fair gals that we are, we got a shirt for our pre-closer, Derrick, with the Team Switzerland crest.

It was such a blast!

We wore our outfits to work (special shout out to Tam for letting us do that!) and had a ton of fun chatting with customers about what team they were on, how long they'd been in line, how many times they'd read the books, and of course, if they thought Rob Pattinson and Kristen Stewart would last as a couple.

The day after it came out, Sarah and I went together to see it. It was amazing! Eclipse is my favorite book in the series, so I was glad the movie was the best so far!

*As a side note, I recently watched Robert Pattinson's new movie, Remember Me.

It.was.awesome! It was a great love story, and had a huge twist at the end that made me GASP out loud then burst into tears. He is SUCH a dream.

So I don't get too depressed...

2010-06-28T23:41:00.000-07:00

Me and the gals at the Bear

Bill and Cassie's wedding

Back at Starbucks...

My adorable niece Rylee

Being home has been great.

The first few days after coming home from Paris, I was going to sleep at 6 pm and waking up around 4 am. It was tough, but after a while, I could gradually stay up later and get up later.

I fell right back into the swing of things here in the States very quickly. I started working at Starbucks right away, which really helped me get back into my Chico life with very little wallowing and time to miss France.

The gals (now being Sarah B, Stephanie and Meghan) threw me a welcome home bash, and things have been a blast lately. I'm putting in my time at study abroad, and working night and day at Starbucks.

I went to San Diego in the beginning of June, right on the heels of Bill and Cassie's adorable wedding . I stayed 3 days with Sarah and her parents, and we had the best time GLAMMING around San Diego and the beach.

I am going to continue my blog because I don't keep a journal, and I do enjoy some good documentation.

It Only Took Me a Month..

2010-06-28T23:05:00.000-07:00

Our amazing view at Cafe de L'homme the night before we left

The amazing macaroon store Steven told me about from his internship in Paris

If only...

A Longchamp! Thanks Sarah and Nikki!

After a wonderful year!

Birthday Dinner

Rowing the boat at Versailles

Garden jumping picture

Real Cordon Bleu students

We hiked all the way up here and it was so lame!

All.our.luggage.

...to put up the pictures and blog from Paris!

The gals and I spent our last few glorious days in France in the city of light and love. We adore Paris, and for all three of us it was the umpteenth time we'd been there this year.

There were so many things to celebrate in Paris. The end of the most wonderful year abroad, and of course, my 23rd birthday!

Packing and leaving Aix was an emotional experience and we certainly felt the effects as we stuffed (and I mean STUFFED) our suitcases during the week preceding our TGV train trip that would high-speed us to Paris.

I chose to spend my birthday at Versailles. I love the palace, and the darling town that surrounds it. I knew that it would be gorgeous in the weeks before summer, and biking through the gardens would be an experience to remember.

Sarah, Nikki and I jumped on the RER the morning of the anniversary of my birth and headed straight for the gardens at the castle. We rented our cruiser bikes and worked those pedals for nearly 2 hours. It.was.so.fun.

The sun was shining and it was so liberating to know that our classes were over and we had the whole glorious summer lingering ahead to transition us back into real life.

We even took out a paddle boat..something I've always wanted to do!

Our trip to Paris was three days where the world stood still. I like to imagine it now as sacred and protected by our three free spirits untouchable optimism.

The thing about Paris is that it never gets old. Samuel Jackson once said, "when you're tired of London, you're tired of life", and that's exactly how I feel about Paris.

Each and every time my train speeds into Gare de Lyon, I feel a sense of familiarity and overwhelming gratitude for this city that makes me appreciate the beauty of the world, especially Europe.

Paris made me love France, and I will never forget emerging from the train station doors and seeing the apartment buildings with the grey-stone architecture and black metal balcony banisters so classic to Parisian style.

It may seem dramatic, but as the weeks have passed here at home, I sometimes feel a sharp stab of terrible homesickness for Paris. Though Aix-en-Provence was my home for those 9 months, Paris will always be my vision of France.

Yes We Cannes

2010-05-10T14:39:00.000-07:00

Home of the Cannes Film Festival!

Nikki & Sarah at the darling Chinese place we ate at.

Klean Kanteen at the beach!

A few weekends ago, the galsies and I decided to go to Cannes, a popular tourist destination on the Cote D' Azur. It is a gorgeous beachside resort town with a ton of fun things to do, and of course, THE BEACH.

Le Plus Gai Souvenir

2010-05-08T00:37:00.000-07:00

My black and white party, October 2009

Before one of our many nighttime walks around Aix

My roommate's birthday, November 2009

Cassis, April 2010

Barcelona, February 2010

Program Thanksgiving dinner, November 2009

F(r)amily Thanksgiving at Alex and Mary's, November 2009

Nikki's Birthday, November 2009

Matching aprons from Venice, October 2009

Sarah's Birthday, October 2009

Kebab's in Florence, October 2009

Market in Arles, September 2009

No lapse of time or distance of place can lessen the friendship of those who are truly persuaded of each other's worth.

In class on Thursday, one of my language teachers announced we were going to have a little test on written expression. It's that time of year, so we just sighed, pulled out our French-French dictionaries, and readied for our prompt.

The subject of the writing assignment was, "What is your happiest or saddest souvenir that you will take home/take away from your experience in France?"

I thought about it for a few minutes, thinking of all my city mugs, trinkets and pictures from my travels and days traipsing around Provence and the European Union, and a thought crossed my mind that I knew immediately was to be the subject of my essay.

I have two happiest souvenirs from this trip, Sarah and Nikki.

We have done everything together. We have had tapas is Barcelona, apple strudel in Vienna, gelato in Florence, decadent chocolate in Geneva, and have spent countless afternoons together at cafes in Provence.

Nikki, Sarah and I are all very different. Nikki and I bond over our love for trinkets, souvenirs, and the quest for city mugs, along with perfect teeth. Sarah and I have really similar personalities, but tend to have really varying interests, so we have gotten really excellent at meeting each other in the middle on most things.

What I enjoy and appreciate about Sarah and Nikki is that despite all the compromising positions we've seen each other in, we have managed to stay close all year, which is more than I can say for a lot of program friendships.

Living overseas changes you in ways you may not notice until long after your re-entry into the United States, I imagine. I think that going through the trials and struggles that one can only experience overseas bonds friends in a manner that nothing else can.

The gals and I plan to spend our last 3 days in France in Paris, with one day at Versailles (my birthday!) and the next creating our own perfect day in the city of light that will include a cheese and bread picnic lunch by the Eiffel Tower and dinner at Cafe De L'Homme together.

Where's My Hostel? (Amsterdam, Netherlands)

2010-05-05T06:27:00.000-07:00

Amsterdam city mug!

Chico girls!

California girls!

The convent I picked out for Sarah Best

Cheese tasting on our tour

Out on the town

Lovely convent again

The coffee shop from Ocean's 12

After the tour, we demanded a photo

Famous Hollish tulips

Amsterdam's answer to " I heart NY"

Nikki was the keeper of the cheese after the tasting, what a surprise.

Amsterdam was such an adventure.

We had been "on the road" for 12 days. Our hair was a little stringy, our eyes were a little droopy, our wallets were a little thin, and by the time we arrived in central Amsterdam, our tempers were a little high.

Luckily, we met up with three good friends from our program, Katrina, Monica and Bree. These gals live together, and have been fun cafe companions and classmates all year, we were happy to see some friendly faces after two weeks.

Our first night was their last, so we met at Starbucks (in the train station, the ONLY one in the city!), and proceeded to a cafe for some drinks and fun.

The gals happened to mention that they took the "free tour" that many cities have begun to offer tourists. The ad boasts that the tour is free, and that the guides get paid only on the tips program go-ers give.

A FREE tour! How excellent!

The next morning, bright and early, we reported to the tourism office to see the whole city in just under 4 hours.

The tours were offered in English and Spanish. We met our English speaking guide, Ghert (pronounced "yurt"), and let him lead us deep into the city for our first stop, The Red Light District!

There were about 40 people in our group, most of them UK citizens. We spent about 20 minutes trying to decide where we thought Ghert was from. He sounded very American, but there was a different edge to English we just couldn't pinpoint.

He had mentioned to the group that the guides only gave tours in their native language...so his must be English, but he was so clearly not British or Australian, his accent was notably American.

When we finally asked, we were shocked to learn he was Portugese.

The son of Dutch parents, his family had moved to Portugal right after he was born, and put their kids in an American school...which is where he learned his American accented (yes, we have accents!) English.

When dear Ghert found out we were from California, he was thrilled to tell us he had just finished an internship in Santa Cruz. It is so lovely to meet other young people who love traveling and being abroad as much as we do. It automatically bonds you in an unexpected way.

Also in our group was a darling English guy (is their any other kind?), about our age, and his Russian wife. They had just purchased a car and were spending their newlywed days motoring around Europe, finally ending in Russia to visit her parents.

They asked us all kinds of questions about the States (as most English people do, it's so funny), and we were delighted to tell them about California and our time in France. People always comment how lucky we are to be in southern France, after they make a crack about the French and their attitude.

The tour was amazing. Ghert knew more about the city then I do about practically anything. He was so informed, and clearly loved Amsterdam, and Holland passionately. He expressed that with all this fun anecdotes and desire to share all he could with us about the history and current news in the city.

We ended the tour with a true Dutch specialty, a huge sausage thing with mashed potatoes. It is evidently a very traditional Dutch meal, and it was de-lish! I was a little hasty to try it, but so glad I did!

At lunch, we sat around with Ghert, the English-Russian couple, and a few other nice English families. We got to more candidly ask Ghert about his life, and how he came to be in Amsterdam. It was a splendid way to end the afternoon.

That night, we went to a few pubs and clubs to see what all the night life is like in famous Amsterdam. We ended up meeting three boys our age (how convenient!) from New York, and in town for the weekend for their friend's birthday.

So, that's what its like to live on the East Coast! You can fly to Europe for the weekend! How lovely.

The morning we were set to leave was the closest the gals and I have ever come to a true disaster on our travels...and to think it was in our LAST city on our LAST big trip.

I had asked Sarah to hold my camera the night before, as I didn't want to bring my huge purse to a dance club. She agreed.

The next morning, as I got out of the shower, I noticed a camera that looked exactly like mine in the bag of one of our Spanish bunkmates.

Huh.

The thing about my camera is that everyone has it. My current roommate has it, along with about 10 others in my program. It's a popular camera. Since I think most people are basically honest, I thought it must be hers, so I pushed it out of my mind.

So there we were waiting for the tram about an hour later, I asked Sarah to get my camera out of her purse so we could relive the day before.

A questioning look crossed her face as she said those fateful words, " I don't think I have it."

Panic set in as my heart began to race, and I instructed everyone to dump out their purses and search.

Horror made its way into my facial expression as I realized we didn't have it.

There were over 300 photos from our beloved spring break trip. I am the designated picture taker (at least of photos with people in them), so everything that meant anything was on my camera.

The picture of the silver Canon in the backpack flashed into my mind.

That bitch.

" I know where it is," I said as calmly as I could, dropped my backpack, and told the girls I'd be right back.

I ran back to the hostel, yanked the door open, and ran into the room we shared with 8 other people. "Does anyone speak English or French?" I practically screamed at my hostel roommates.

"What's wrong?" A girl asked in a heavy Spanish accent.

" I lost my camera, and I think its in her bag," I said, again as calmly as I could, considering I was pinning some stranger of stealing!

The gal muttered something in Spanish after her friend translated my accusation, methodically reached into her bag, and pulled out my camera.

Knowing I didn't have time to lose it, I turned to my interpreter, smiled, and thanked her.

I ran back to the tram stop, pleased with myself for getting it back. I turned it on, and panic again set my heart sprinting.

The black screen read ominously, 'please insert memory card.'

WHAT?!

"Hold on guys," I said to Nikki and Sarah as I again dropped my backpack and jogged back to the hostel.

"Where's the memory card?!" I asked my original interpreter, hoping she would ask her friend.

After about a 3 minute exchange between the girl and her traveling companion, the bi-lingual Spainard turned to me, and embarrassingly admitted the following story:

My friend saw your camera lying out, and wanted to steal it, but she knew you were on a trip with your friends, and that since you are American, had travelled a long way to get here. Before she put your camera in her bag, she took the memory card out of it and put in your friend's bag, so you would have your pictures. She just wanted the camera.

How touching... NOT.

I worried myself sick on our train ride home that we would never find the memory card in Sarah's huge backpack. I even shed a few tears somewhere between Brussels and Paris...those pictures were the only thing irreplaceable from our trip, and if they were gone I would be crushed.

Well, I'm sure you know how the story turns out, as the pictures are all over Facebook and my blog. Sarah came over about an hour after we got home with the card and huge smile. I thanked the Lord that we made it home with everyone, and everything.

Spring Break was amazing. It was the most exhausting trip of my life, but so worth every dollar, euro, and wrinkle it may have added to my forehead. I am so grateful for Sarah and Nikki, and the friendship that we have formed this year. I couldn't have done it without them. We are so lucky to have each other.

Honorable mention must also go to my parents, who didn't bat an eyelash when I way overspent (and overdrew) on this trip. They are so supportive, and I am so glad God sent me to them. I am sure they constantly roll their eyes at my dwindling bank account and extravagant travel plans, but they continue to provide unconditional love, support, and funds transfers. I love you!

Poor But Sexy (Berlin, Germany)

2010-05-04T11:28:00.000-07:00

Oh how I love the German chocolates

The real Berlin Wall!

Checkpoint Charlie

Our bike riding crew at the government building

Bike riding!

TV Tower

A classic Sarah devouring a pastry photo

Germany country mug!

Riding through the park

The famous Michael Jackson baby out the balcony hotel

Kev's exact instructions were, build a victory pyramid.

Largest train station in Europe!

Berlin Bear...the city's mascot

As I mentioned in the Krackow blog, I am a little obsessed with World War 2.

I have always had a unique fascination with learning about the events that occurred during the fateful years of 1939-1945, both in The United States and Europe. There have always been lingering questions in my mind about Hitler's rise to power, and of course the universal question of, how could human beings do that to each other.

Berlin was at the center of the World War 2 Nazi regime, and was almost completely leveled during the last years of the war. Almost all of the "historic" buildings are re-creations, and were re-built in the decades after the war.

This makes for an interesting European city, considering that Marseille is older than Rome, and I am used to being in buildings that are practically B.C.

We only had a small amount of time in Berlin, so we chose to enroll ourselves in a bike tour to see the city.

Best.Idea.Ever.

Our bike ride began at the famous Berlin tv tower, which was a monument to the power and rule of Communism and "booming economy" of East Berlin, (which, we later learned on our tour that the East Berliners ran out of money about halfway through and illegally hired Swedish workers to finish it as their currency deflated in value by the second).

Our tour guide was a fellow ex-pat by the name of Kevin, and he was a dream! He was "an artist" (he made it a point to keep telling us that), and was one of the most knowledgeable men we had ever met (until, of course we met Ghert, but that's later, in Amsterdam).

Our tour continued through East Berlin, until we hit the famous and fabulous Checkpoint Charlie...which for all those who are wondering was the East Berlin/West Berlin US Army checkpoint.

Though this too was a re-creation, it was an emotional experience to see the small hut that was once a true piece of world history. I am quite the patriot these days, and seeing two men (who were Germans, haha) dressed in US Army uniforms holding a US flag helped me for a moment be transported to the East Berlin/West Berlin days where you had to have a passport to cross a city.

On a quick factual note, Berlin was divided into small "colony" type areas, each occupied by The French, The British, The US and the Soviet Union...and on a larger scale, so was Germany. To cross into East Germany (or East Berlin) you had to get a special visa and pay a lot of money, it was disastrous.

Kev did a great job of explaining this to us. I'm sure I've been told this several times over the course of my years in school, but to be at Checkpoint Charlie as he was drawing the dividing lines made it so real.

Honorable mention must be made to the darling Australian family we made friends with whilst pedaling around town. It was a mom, dad and brother and sister. The sister/daughter was our age and studying abroad in London...the parents were on holiday visiting her.

They were so sweet! The dad helped Nikki when her chain fell off (oops!), and we sat with them at lunch in the garden. We love Australians!

We continued our tour through the city, and got to see the memorial to the Jews who died in the war, the ground above Hitler's bunker where he hid during the last years of the war (and where he committed suicide), Brandenburg Gate (which is in the same square as the US Embassy and the hotel where Michael Jackson held his baby over the balcony...which is oddly enough the same hotel US presidents stay in when they come to Berlin).

It was quite a tour!

When we finally came to the end of the tour, we walked in the shop to pay, and there were several "Fat Tire Bike Tour Berlin" shirts, and one read, "Poor, but Sexy."

That describes us exactly! We asked about it, and Kev filled us in.

The mayor of the capital city has famously coined the term to describe Berlin, as it is a city terribly in debt from the re-build and the whole "divided/half communist until like yesterday" thing.

Naturally, we all bought the shirts and wore them on the train the next day.

When we went to dinner the night of the tour, Sarah and I vowed to enroll in German in the Fall, and move to Berlin permanently when we graduate.

We heart Germany!

I hear Krakow is the new Prague

2010-04-30T12:40:00.000-07:00

Memorial outside the main church for the President

Proof that we were all three there.

Auschuwitz

The Avocado..MMMM

The watchtower at Birkenau

Krackow has the largest square in Europe, here I am in it!

Top of the Birkenau Watchtower, I swear I don't mean to look quite so jolly.

Barbed wire fences at Auschuwitz

Castle casually in the middle of Krackow

Krackow, Poland.

I had never even heard of Krackow until one fine Saturday.

In early March, the gals and I were at a cafe on the Cours Mirabeau with some friends from our program, and a mutual friend from another program, Ben.

Ben is from Maine, and has been in our lives since the Fall when he was in Sarah and Nikki's language classes, and he moved to my language class in the Spring. He is a little quiet, but once you get to know him, quite funny and rather charming.

Back to Saturday. We were discussing spring break plans, and Ben casually mentioned he was going to Poland, and embarking on a tour of Auschwitz, like the concentration camp. I happened to turn and look at Sarah as the words left his lips, and all was lost as I saw her eyes light up.

It's really hard to talk Sarah out of anything. She can be talked into almost anything, but try to get her NOT to do something, and you're likely outta luck.

So, she dragged me and Nikki to Poland, which was no small feat, I tell you.

I tried to get out of it...twice. I tried to stay in Vienna by myself (too expensive), then considered dropping spring break altogether to save money (too lame).

The evening we were set to leave for Krackow we arrived at the bus station with plenty of time to spare, and waited for 9:30pm to come to we could board our bus and settle in for a night of peaceful travel slumber.

Like all traveling adventures, this was not what was in store for us. We should have figured out that an overnight coach bus to a fairly obscure central European nation would not be without its...obstacles.

After some confusion about what bus to climb on, we were instructed to take the bus bound for Warsaw, and we would have to change to a different bus around 3 am that would take us to Krackow.

Is that fun?

As we boarded the vehicle, we realized this bus was no German luxury Lufthansa-partnered bus, as was our bus to Vienna a few days prior. It was hot and stuffy, and there were only three seats left together, in a row of 5 in the very back.

We were wedged in between these these two seemingly regular looking guys about our age. I was in the middle, and Nikki and Sarah were on either side of me, with the men on either side of them. It was going to be a long 8 hours.

After a little bit of small talk, we were horrified to learn the two 19 year old men were Polish cage fighters.

That's right, cage fighters.

Nikki discovered this when she began smelling some sort of strange antiseptic-type smell, and being the curious cat she is, she asked the nice cage fighter (though we were un aware of his identity then) next to her what was up.

He proceeded to show her his elbow wound, which was oozing a little and the smell of wound cleaner and skin washed over both of us.

It was straight out of a horror film. Just when I thought it couldn't get worse, Mr. Bleeding Wound smiled to reveal the fact that he likely had not seen a dentist in years.

I practically passed out.

I turned to my right, only to discover Sarah leaning as far away as she could from our other friend (as he screamed in Polish to his pal over all three of us) because she claimed his breath smelled like rotting cheese.

The whole time, I kept thinking, this is going to make for great blog material...if I survive.

The night shockingly passed without much incident. We stopped at a small rest stop around 1:30, and the cage fighters picked up some chicken ( complete with bones ) and bread-type materials to munch on and make sure that if we weren't nauseous yet, we were sure to be after that.

We arrived in Krackow around 5am, and trekked to our hostel...to sleep for the 3 hours until our tour of Auschuwitz.

I wouldn't say I was excited to see Auschuwitz, but I was certainly intrigued to see the deserted camp that was now a memorial and museum. I have always been really interested in World War 2, and was eager to see such an important part of human history.

We boarded a small but comfortable bus for the hour ride outside of the city.

Upon our arrival to the camp, our tour guide ( a lovely Polish girl, about my age), announced to our group that there had been a plane crash, and the Polish President, his wife, and about 100 members of the Polish government were dead.

The three of us looked at each other and all had the same thought.

If Barack Obama was dead (heaven forbid), we would be totally beside ourselves. We could not keep it together, much less continue a tour to a bunch of foreigners. To be fair, we LOVE Barack Obama maybe more than some, but STILL. What a huge tragedy.

Our tour of both Auschuwitz 1 and Birkenau passed without further event, but as we drove back into Krackow, it was evident that news had spread to the greater population of Poland.

There were parades through the streets and the stores were closing left and right. Candles were being lit all over the city (fire hazard?), and things were not looking good.

The best part of the Krakow trip was the night we went out to dinner. I had researched restaurants, and found one called The Avocado. The gals and I dressed up, headed to the Jewish quarter (always) and stumbled upon our darling bistrot that served wonderful soups and salads, and was so cheap we got three courses and it was like 8 euro. It was candlelit, and the perfect end to a totally nutty day.

We had to stay an extra day in Krackow because of a poorly planned train situation, so we booked our 3rd night a new hostel (The Dizzy Daisy Downtown was so unreal it could be a blog in and of itself)...so we moved to the Deco Hostel.

BEST HOSTEL EVER.

I had the best nap of my life, and since it was Sunday and the day after the President DIED everything was closed. We spent the whole grey, rainy day on huge, plush, CLEAN couches watching movies and drinking tea. We had the place to ourselves.

...and you know the funny thing? Ben didn't end up going to Krackow, and I never forgave him.

These Are A Few Of My Favorite Things (Vienna, Austria)

2010-04-30T05:35:00.001-07:00

The famous "crisp apple strudel"!

Julie Andrews has nothing on my "hills are alive" twirl.

You DO NOT want to know what's stuffed inside that bread (a viennese sausage...GROSS)

Enjoying one of the many parks

Ferris Wheel at Prater Park!

Creepy clown at Prater Park

Schonberg Palace

Walking like an Egyptian at Belvedere Palace

Belvedere

Viennese Blend!

Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens....

The gals and I embarked on our voyage to Vienna via coach bus...but when we arrived at the bus station the day we were to depart, we got much more than we bargained for.

Our bus was not ordinary vehicle. It was an owned by a company who partners with Lufthansa, the German airline. As we mounted the stairs to find our seats, we caught sight of a cappuccino machine, and knew we were in for an interesting ride.

This should have been my first clue that I love Germany and the Germans, but that's another tale to tell when we get to Berlin...on the way to Vienna, I ended up sitting next to a complete stranger (which, if you know me, you know I hate sharing close quarters with people I don't know...GERMS).

Sarah had to sit next to a little man (child, they are sometimes called), because his mother and sister wanted to be next to him across the aisle, so we had to sacrifice our lovely ride, and Sarah spent 5 hours smiling at the little Czech child while his mother yelled at him for dunking his stuffed bear in his grape juice. Good times.

We finally arrived in Wien (German for Vienna), and set off to find our hostel. As we hurried down the stairs into the metro station, we noticed that there were bakeries lining the walls.

Bakeries filled with every kind of pastry you can IMAGINE. Huge cinnamon rolls, sweet apricot croissants, chocolate cookies and cakes, piled high behind glass counters.

Why weren't these people obese?

Some people say that about the French, but the Austrians take it to a whole.new.level.

After discussing our love/hate relationship with pastries, we jumped on the metro and headed to the hostel.

Our hostel in Vienna was again a rousing success. It was really lovely, and our bunkmates were some interesting Italians who weren't afraid to be in their underwear, which made for some awkward moments...but they were really considerate over all.

The city of Vienna is very, very spread out. Sarah is an excellent cartographer (which I'm sure I've mentioned) but even she couldn't predict how far away things would be!

We got to visit Belvedere Palace and Schonburg Palace, and weather was absolutely gorgeous, which was such a blessing!

Sarah is quite a researcher and also found us a darling, wonderful cafe to go to right in the center of town, it was the perfect spot to rest for a few minutes and re-juvinate with an delicious apple strudel (crisp,mind you!)

If you know anything about Vienna, you know the city is covered in and littered with parks. Big parks, small parks, green parks, brown parks, parks with fountains...you get the idea. We had picnic lunches nearly every day!

Our last day in Vienna was spent going to Prater Park, a large amusement situation with a giant ferris wheel that's like a million years old. It was actually my favorite part of Vienna! We paid 3 euro to ride the wheel, and walked around the park the whole morning. We got an awesome view of the entire city.

While we were in Prague, we met a group of NYU London students who had just come from Vienna, they told us what was worth seeing and what wasn't. One thing they mentioned was the Opera House Ballet.

The famous Vienna Opera House (think Mozart) has a show every night, and for 3 euro you can get standing room tickets. I wanted to go so bad!

As we were touring the city, we stumbled across the Opera House, and at noon there was a line wrapped around the building...I was so disappointed, we weren't going to see the ballet. Someday I will go back to Vienna and go to the Opera and sit in very expensive seats!

Czech It Out (Prague, Czech Republic)

2010-04-17T13:03:00.000-07:00

See what I mean about the banana seats?

Petrin Hill, on the way down

I want to swim naked in the Daube! - Mandy Moore in her early 2000's movie "Chasing Liberty", in which she plays the wayward daughter of the current US president and incorrectly identifies the river Vlitava as the Danube during her trip to Prague.

No matter which river it REALLY is, the gorgeous and majestic waterway that runs through the entire city and separates the new town from the old town is one of the most famous Prague landmarks, along with the Prague Castle that sits atop the city, watching over the residents.

Getting to Prague was no easy feat. It took us almost 18 hours to complete the entire journey, including a 10 hour overnight train from Manheim, Germany.

Overnight trains are really interesting, especially if you are on a student budget and can't afford to book a sleeper car, which clearly we are, and couldn't.

The seats are about twice the size of regular train seats, and look like giant blue bananas that lean back into an angle that seems conducive to sleeping...but it is not.

It was around 3 am on our night train, and I was going to lose it.

All around me there were other passengers, leaned back in their chairs, blissfully un- aware of the fact that their body was emitting odors one hopes to only find near garbage cans and snoring that could wake the dead.

Reaching a certain breaking point, I shook Sarah awake and told her I couldn't handle it anymore, which sent us both into a fit of terrible, delirious giggles, to which she replied, just put on some Colbie and relax a little.

I took her advice and was soothed into a shallow slumber, only waking up as the sun rose with our train gliding east through the Czech Republic.

Those morning hours railing through the rural countryside are fairly fuzzy due to serious delirium, but as the scenery flew by, images of green rolling hills and a large, brown and murky river met my eyes, and as the buildings began to speed by, I noticed the striking difference in architecture from the west...everything was pointy and looked like a castle.

Our arrival in the city was flawless, as was our trek to the hostel.

We had heard the notorious stories of the dangerous cab drivers in Prague, so we opted to walk, and with Sarah leading the way, we found our way to the Riverbank Hostel...which was located directly on, you guessed it, the riverbank.

Our hostel was an absolute dream come true. It was made up of like 6 rooms, all of which were practically private apartments that had been converted into dorms for students like ourselves. The wood floors were as clean as could be, and pillows did not smell like feet.

The first order of business was, of course, to head to Starbucks to pick up our beloved city mugs. We had learned a few cities ago that it's best to pick them up at the end of a day, when you are less likely to be carrying them around in your purse all day.

We made our way blissfully onto the crowded street that lines the river, headed in the direction of the Charles Bridge, where old meets new, and crossed over the famous cobblestone platform to our favorite coffee shop.

It was around 3pm (exactly 12 hours after my train meltdown) that I began to fade. Our restless night had begun to take its toll, but we reluctantly agreed that we couldn't go to sleep until at least 9, and naps were out of the question.

We were in serious need of a pick me up. Luckily, Sarah had done her research, and found a delightful English bookstore called The Globe.

She located it on the map and we set out to find it and have a beverage....assuming of of course that it would remind us of our dear Book In Bar.

This bookstore blew Book In Bar right out of the water. It was two stories of English book bliss, and had a cafe that served food and offered free re-fills of their iced tea and lemonade.

I got hummus with veggies and Sarah got the mozzarella sticks (who's surprised?), and we relaxed until it was time to make dinner and finally hit the sack.

The next day dawned sunny and warm, which was a perfect representation of the spring break we had always imagined. We spent the morning climbing the famous Petrin Hill, which sits over 1000 ft above sea level, and has a watchtower modeled after my own Eiffel Tower.

We took an alternative route down the hill, which led us through winding Czech neighborhoods and we even passed the US Embassy ( you know how I love to spot an Embassy)...and finally wound our way to Prague Castle, where we spent all of five minutes looking at the copper and sea-foam green palace before the hoards of tourists drove is away.

Lunch was spent in the Jewish Quarter, because you know we can't help but find our way to the Jews. Along with the usually amazing shopping ( Gucci, Prada, Burberry), there were delicious restaurants left and right.

We finally settled on an Italian place, where the salads were huge and the bread was served with garlic butter. It was like living in luxury for us, because we never go out to eat, much less opt for soup and soda, but this was Prague, and it was cheap.

Honorable mention must go out to the afternoon spent wandering around new town, going into shops and the chocolate museum, where all the wrappers were pink and brown and looked like Juicy Couture.

All in all, Prague was a total success.

No South Padre

2010-04-17T12:01:00.000-07:00

Amsterdam, Holland

Berlin, Germany

Vienna, Austria

Prague, Czech Republic

The long and honorable tradition of an exciting spring break is a college ritual that mustn’t be ignored. Most college students spend their school breaks getting plastered south of the border, and come back to classes with nothing but a hangover and a good solid sunburn.

I, being a cultured and classy French study abroad student, spent my spring break streaming through the European Union by railway with two great gal pals, all determined to get the most out of our "Vacances des Paques" (Easter Break).

We took five countries by absolute storm, never staying in one place for more than 3 days. We went through a series of 3 different currencies, and ate cuisines from 5 different cultures. Weaving in and out of Eastern and Western Europe, it was the adventre of lifetime.

Cassis

2010-03-29T14:27:00.000-07:00

The darling chocolate shopppe with Nutella cookies (see below).

Isn't this great? Better cover up in the summer!

Outdoor gardens!

We do love some soft serve

Boats!

We had to walk about 1.5 miles from the train station to town

The gals I decided to go to Cassis this weekend!

It's about time we really take advantage of our proximity to the French Riviera, so we took the train to the small port town for the day.

We arrived around 2pm, and had the most delicious lunch at a darling seaside restaurant. It was slightly cloudy and grey, but really set the ambiance for a spring day by the sea.

As we sat inside our little diner, we stared out huge glass bay windows, into a small park with green grass and palm trees swaying in the wind. The park, under cover of the giant palm frawns, was littered with all types of men, old and young, playing bocce ball.

They were all dressed very nicely, in collared shirts and lovely sweater vests, playing despite the weather conditions. It must have been some sort of Saturday tradition.

After our lunch of some much needed salad, we walked the street right on the harbor, and indulged in some soft serve frozen yogurt, which happens to be my absolute favorite treat, especially during a day at the beach.

Walking on the beach in the winter is always an emotional experience, at least for me. Whenever I am near the water and it's cloudy and stormy, it makes the ocean seem so powerful and angry, like at any moment it could just swallow us all up.

In my imagination, King Triton or Posiden will just appear on a rock with that three-pronged thing they always have, and give the Greek Gods something to talk about. It feels like there is a much greater force out there, that is much more powerful than me.

I always feel this way during a storm, especially near the ocean.

So, of course, while we are enjoying our proximity to the waves, it begins to downpour, and we seek shelter inside the charming seaside shops and cafe's. The late afternoon was spent ducking in and out of pint-size shops with charming, chintzy trinkets.

Navigating the streets of a small town in Southern France is not only completely entertaining, it is also tends to bring you back to another time, when things were simpler, and things moved a little more slowly.

The streets are so narrow you practically have to walk single file, and the outdoor gardens are something to be written about in plant magazines. Petite little tables with two single rickety metal chairs sit outside, with the wine glasses still out from an afternoon delight.

It was wonderful and sometimes soothing to waltz through the streets together, sometimes being chatty, sometimes being lost in thought. I always look at doors and windows and wonder what the lives of the people who live inside them are like.

Are they young, or old? Do children live there? Are they happy with their lives? How did they come to live in this picture-esque French Riviera town? Are they even French?

After the afternoon of shopping (window ONLY), and winding through the streets and hills, we ended back on the main street, and discovered a lovely chocolate shoppe (see above) where we got cookies sandwiched in nutella. What could be better, I mean really?

There are so many things I will miss about France. I can't even begin to list them all, but one I think of often is a independent patisserie, where the owner works the cash register, and everything is made on location, even the huge chocolate eggs that are for Easter festivities.

I can't help but go into a vintage chocolate shoppe..even if it just to smell the aroma of freshly made pain au chocolates (chocolate croissants for my fellow anglophiles).

We have plans to go back to Cassis the first week in May and spend the night. We left something there, our hearts.

The Luck O' the Irish

2010-03-21T10:55:00.001-07:00

St.Patrick's Day, a long and honored tradition in the life of a college kid.

We made green everything.

It was so fun!

I painted my nails green, wore a green headband, and even dyed my club soda green!

The Battersea Park Road to Enlightenment

2010-03-14T18:29:00.000-07:00

I am always looking for a way to relax.

For the better part of my life, I have been described as "outgoing, high strung, talkative, bubbly", and various other adjectives that suggest that I have a lot of energy.

For the most part, this is all true...and was never news to my parents during parent-teacher conferences in elementary school.

As I have moved into my adult life (I use adult loosely, mind you) I have begun a quest to better myself (haven't we all), and have a more zen-like attitude toward challenges and special trials that come hurling my way.

Along with yoga and deep breathing techniques, I have also been going long and hard at the gym to keep myself from getting anxious (and gaining weight, let's be real).

But lately, it has felt like I needed another component to the mix, something for the mind.

Then it happened, one Saturday afternoon at Book In Bar, where things of a intellectual nature often manifest themselves.

I was glancing at a section of books in my favorite English bookshop, and there was a small card tent atop of a pile of books that read, "Book singing, Isabelle Losada, March 4th, 5:30pm".

Underneath the card tent were two books:

The Beginners Guide to Changing the World (Way too much pressure)

AND

The Battersea Park Road to Enlightenment.

I found myself thinking, "I'd like to be enlightened...when else am I really going to get the chance to do this..sounds excellent"

10 Euro later I had my blue book in hand and was off to be enlightened!

It has been an excellent read! It was really fun to have read it when we did in fact meet Isabelle. Sarah read the Beginners Guide...as she is more youthful and idealistic than me.

We were the only Americans in the room, and the youngest gals there by at least 15 years...but it was worth it! Isabelle was as hysterical as she writes, and just as charming.

Quite a NICE day.

2010-02-28T12:05:00.000-08:00

I love the ocean.

Have I mentioned that?

I got a good, solid dose of rolling coastlines and shimmering blue waves crashing against rocky beaches today in a famous southern France vacation spot, Nice.

The gals and I headed to the 4th largest city in France Sunday morning with a group of other American students to spend the last day of Carnivale on the palm tree- lined Promenade D'Anglais.

When you first pull into Nice it feels a little like you are heading to LAX, as the palm trees are plentiful and line all the streets. The lightly clouded sky is a perfect blue, with patches of golden sunlight beaming through.

We started the morning off with hot chocolates and cafe au laits so we could perk up after the 3 hour bus ride from Aix. The streets were busy with anticipation for the coming parade later in the afternoon. There were all manner of people dressed in costumes as pirates and princesses. Colorful masks, like those used for Mardi Gras were plentiful on the faces of attendees of all ages.

The best part about Nice is that it is a big town with a small town feel. Nikki, Sarah and I made our way into the "old city" and spent the morning walking up Lombard Street- style alleyways and in and out of both vintage and kitchy tourist shops alike.

We splurged for lunch and went to this fabulous Italian restaurant right in the center of town and had delicious pizza and pasta. It was a long, leisurely, 2 1/2 hour lunch...a great break from the stress that has been school lately.

In the afternoon, it was of course, The Carnivale. Like Mardi Gras, Carnivale is a huge party that celebrates/kicks off the beginning of Lent.

The official day of Carnivale is actually February 16th this year, as that is the Tuesday before Ash Wednesday...but in Nice it is celebrated every Sunday the whole month of February.

Venice, Italy is where the largest and most famous Carnivale takes place, and it officially ended February 16th. So strict!

Carnivale is every colorful, and I'll admit, a little bizzare to me. The floats were themed, which was cool because it was a blue planet/environmental theme this year...so the huge float of President Obama was holding trees in his hand. There were also floats of corn husks and a lot of dancing trees.

Most of our viewing of the parade was done from the beach! We perched ourselves at a seaside cafe with darling plastic, white outdoor furniture that belonged at the beach and sipped more beverages as the floats glided past.

It was an absolutely perfect day.

The Real Madrid

2010-02-18T13:58:00.000-08:00

Churro's Con Chocolate... amazing!

...is a soccer team. I'm aware of that. But let me tell about how REAL Madrid got for Nikki and I.

Where we last left off, Nikki and I jumped on the 8 hour bus to the country capitol to sight-see just the two of us while Sarah and Alex spent some time in the Basque country.

Our travels started out simple enough.

We met up with Nikki's friend from Sonoma State who is studying with our program in Madrid, because she had graciously let us stay with her for our 3 days in the huge city.

After a good nights sleep, we got started in the "Sol", which is the center of the city, with some shopping and warm beverages from Starbucks, while the snow drifted softly outside. We chatted, mapped out some things in the city worth seeing, and were just glad to be warm inside the haven we know and love.

The thing about Madrid (and Spain in general) is that it has a very outdoor feel, so you want to be walking around...but when the snow is really coming down and its like 30 degrees outside, one is a little unsure of what the plan REALLY is.

After we hit all the stores we love, it was late afternoon and the sun was setting, bringing the temp. down to a hearty 25 degrees. Brrr.

Just as we were hopping on the metro we got a text from Nikki's pal insisting we meet her for churros con chocolate at this DARLING restaurant just a few blocks away.

Let me tell you, churros con chocolate is AMAZING! It's churro's dipped in melted baking chocolate. Possibly the best dessert on the planet! The cafe we went to serves almost exclusively cafe con leche (lattes, basically) and churros con chocolate.

The place was rather San Francisco-esque, with green trim and white walls, old lamps with charming round lampshades and old wiry ice cream shop feel chairs. It was the perfect end to a Spanish day.

Tuesday came to us with a torrent of rain and half snow..sort of like sleet. Again, Nikki and I set off for the Sol, to pick up a few items and again map out the day.

During our morning cocoas, we decided to hit up an art museum in a different part of town, because it was free and seemed worth going to.

A hop, skip and jump on the metro later, we arrived at the Sophia Reina, only to find it closed on Tuesdays.

Dejectedly, we walked back to the metro, deciding on a new plan.

As Nikki rummaged in her bag to look for chapstick, horror crossed her face and I saw the panic set in as she realized her wallet was gone.

Frantically she threw the contents of her purse onto the cement floor of the metro station in desperate hope that this was some sort of joke.

The contents of Nikki's wallet was valuable for several reasons. The first and foremost being that her passport was in there. Now it was gone.

We had a 2pm flight from Madrid to Marseille the next day. How on earth was she going to leave Spain?

An hour later we were sitting in the Madrid police station reporting the crime to this sweet Spanish lady, who connected us with the US Embassy in Madrid so she could get an emergency passport before our flight the next day.

I had no IDEA that you could get a passport made in under and hour...legally at least.

It took us roughly 3 hours in the station in Madrid that is reserved only for tourists who have fallen victim to small crimes.

The Spanish officers were so good to Nikki! They let her call and cancel her Bank of America cards, and gave us a map and metro info for the Embassy so we could get there bright and early the next morning.

I was so impressed by the US Embassy, let me tell you.

When Nikki called to let them know what happened, and to ask what to do next, the gal on the other end was so calming and told her not worry and that she would be taken care of. She noted that it happens often, and that they would get her in and out and back to France before she knew it.

When stuff like that happens, it makes me so emotional. I love living abroad, and I love France more and more everyday, but sometimes I forget how kind and chipper Americans can be as a culture.

Often the French are not ones for small talk, and sometimes appear ( to someone used to a smily, friendly culture) surly and rude. It wears on you sometimes, always feeling like no one likes you...but to hear this chipper lady, in her very American English reassure Nikki, nearly brought me to tears it made me so homesick.

So naturally, when we arrived at the Embassy the next morning, I was again positively fighting tears as I saw my very own stars and stripes flying high in such an unfamiliar place. It has been so long since I've seen The United States of America written anywhere but my passport, I just stopped and stared for a minute.

As promised, Nikki and I were in and out of the Embassy in about an hour and 1/2. She got right in (sans appointment may I add) and the 20 something gal who helped us was as wonderful as can be.

With temporary passport in hand, we walked across the lobby with a mosaic of the eagle we all know and love, and I looked to my left to see three pictures hanging elegantly on the wall.

Barack Obama, Joe Biden and Hilary Clinton smiled at me as I grabbed my backpack and headed back onto the streets of Madrid.

No Hablo Espagnol

2010-02-18T05:21:00.000-08:00

No, really. I don't speak Spanish.

BARCELONA:

The gals and I began our 7 day Spanish adventure with an 8 hour bus ride from Aix to Barcelona. It wasn't as bad as it sounds. We made stops along the way as we cruised along the coast of France to the coast of Spain.

Let me quickly note that we purchased backpacking backpacks for this trip (and our April trip) so we could more easily maneuver on metros and busses...ect.

We arrived in Spain around 9pm, a tidy 45 minutes ahead of schedule. As we reached ground level from the stairs of the metro, backpacks strapped to our backs, we made our way to our hostel, which was located on the famous and popular, La Ramblas...which is the main street of Barcelona.

Our hostel was recommended to us by a friend who had a really great experience with this particular sleeping arrangement. When we arrived, having been wandering around lost for a good 20 min due to some bad directions, we were told our room was in one of the apartments located down the street.

Huh?

We located the appropriate building and opened the iron gate-esque door and began to climb the three marble-staircased floors to the 4th floor.

Upon turning the key that looked like it belonged to a pirate's treasure chest, we stepped into a small room with a kitchen that smelled like corn chips and stagnant water.

When we opened the second door to our actual room, we found a quaint bunk bed for us, a cute little table and chairs and a lovely closet for our belongings. Things were looking up as we crawled into bed for a good nights' sleep.

Friday morning dawned cold, but very sunny. We met up with Sarah's boyfriend, Alex, who is (as I have mentioned before) studying in Bilbao this spring. He was such a doll and took an overnight bus to Barcelona, but still was ready to roll out for a day of sight seeing, complete with being our own personal Spanish translator. Big shout out to Alex :)

We first stopped at La Boqueria, a colorful fresh (everything) market. It had the most gorgeous and colorful fruit I have ever seen! We all purchased strawberries and smoothies (for a euro, mind you) that were so fresh it was unbelievable!

Plus, as always, there was various meat particles hanging from some of the stands...but I'll pretend I didn't see that! Sad.

The rest of the day was spent in the square at the end of La Ramblas feeding the pigeons, visiting Gaudi's most famous church, The Sagrada Familia (complete with visit to the museum and gift shop, always), a walk through Parc Guell, where all of Gaudi's statues and some buildings are constructed..it was such a fun day!

No day in Barcelona would be complete without tapas! Around 10pm, we headed out to this great restaurant right off La Ramblas, called Sinatra (like, Frank). We all ordered a few small dishes (olives, curried chicken with asian veggies and tomato bread for me) and shared everything. Plus chocolate ice cream for dessert...best in Barcelona.

Saturday was a BLAST! We started off by headed to Starbucks (city mugs!), then headed to the harbor and boardwalk to see the ocean.

I was really looking forward to breathing in some sea-salty air.

At the end of La Ramblas, there is a huge glass-looking bridge that extends into the harbor, and at the end there is a HUGE shopping center. It is quite the architectural feat. As you gaze into the bay, there is a cross- harbor cable car that flies above the grey waves. The London Eye of Barcelona, if you will.

We spent the morning and early afternoon shopping, talking and walking all around the ocean...looking at the boats and enjoying the ocean we all hate to live without.

True to Spanish culture, we went back to the hostel around 2pm to take a siesta so we could be up for the long evening of Spanish night life we had planned.

We talked about going out all the nights we were in Barcelona, but lets be real, that's just not us. We voted on just hitting the town Saturday night.

Sarah was dead set on going to this club, Razzmatazz, and with its 5 different mini-clubs and 15 euro cover charge, going there was sure to be a night to remember. The dance floor(s) are located in an old warehouse that houses concerts of huge proportions when big bands come to Barcelona.

I should mention that this month is "carnival" in most of Europe because of the proximity to Lent..especially in really Catholic countries.

We figured this out as we jumped on the metro at around 2:30 am (yes, that's right) to GO to the club.

Everyone was dressed in CRAZY costumes with feathers and masks..it was slightly frightening! I was wearing jean capris and plain black shirt. Ooops, left my face paint at home.

Razzmatazz was as crazy and fun as we thought it would be. The music was true European techno that only should be heard in huge clubs with lots of friends. I will say there was a notable absence of the newest Britney song...and Lady Gaga and Black Eyes Peas sure weren't on ANYONE'S playlist that night.

When I woke up Sunday morning (four hours after I had gone to bed, mind you), I was ready to embark on the next leg of our journey...Madrid! I was sad to be leaving Sarah and Alex (they were headed to Bilbao for a few days), but I felt Barcelona had been good to us.

We had one last Starbucks breakfast together, and Nikki and I boarded our bus West.

Driving Slow On Sunday Morning

2010-02-07T12:02:00.000-08:00

Enjoying our treats on the Cours Mireabeau

Other lovely Frenchies enjoying some cafe

The fountains in Aix are very plentiful!

Sarah shopping for a book

I love Sundays.

Today was no exception.

After church, the gals and I decided to hit up a local book fair in the square next to the "Hotel De Ville", or City Hall.

Sarah, Nikki and I donned our sunglasses and flats, and made our way out into the late winter weather. It was lovely to be out in the sun, with the thermometer hitting the high 50's.

The books at the small fair were old french books, including "War & Peace" translated into French, and some fun childrens books on display upon the tables.

We spent the better part of the afternoon at a cafe, sipping hot cocoa and eating gelatto (Sarah, of course). The sun felt so good on our faces after the long winter we have endured.

Around 4, we made our way to the local English movie theatre to see Sherlock Holmes. It was really excellent, filled with action and over two hours of Jude Law and Robert Downey Jr., which was lovely.

I love when the streets of Aix are slightly deserted, and the shops are all closed. With the sun streaming in between the tall buildings, and just our six feet pounding the pavement, it made Aix look a little brighter than it has the past few weeks.

Les Vacances en La France

2010-02-03T09:10:00.000-08:00

Cousin Amanda and I in November

Sarah's friends from CHICO!

Sarah and Alex at the farewell dinner (chomping on a cheese plate)

Mumsy looks so cold

Dinner with mumsy and Alex (photographer)

Sarah and I LOVE Book in Bar

Sarah's dad, me and Sarah at the market

Candid of Sarah and I walking the streets of Aix

Mumsy and Dadsy Mann

Sarah and I preparing the Latkes.

Dinner at "La Grange"

Bienvenue a La France!

We have had a myriad of friends and family come see us here in Aix-en-Provence. In our group of gals, when one of us has a visitor, we all have a visitor.

Sarah's parents, Mark and Virginia were the first Christmas visitors to arrive. We took them all around town and showed them all of our favorite haunts!

Since Sarah's dad is Jewish, ( and I've always been a Christmakkuh celebrator), we threw a Chanukkah dinner with some traditional Jewish masterpieces, like Kugel and Latkes.

A few days after the Manns took off to London for Christmas, my mother arrived, ( see earlier blogs). The last night mumsy was here, we had a farewell dinner, including Alex, Sarah's boyfriend who was in Aix for 3 days.

( We will be visiting him in Spain next week!)

Two weeks after Christmas break, Sarah's four friends from home came to visit for a week! It was so fun to meet her friends, and they all go to Chico, so we could get nostalgic together.

The O.C.

2010-02-01T12:27:00.000-08:00

Rejoice!

Hello world, it has officially become February!

Finally!

The epic event in our lives is that we have finished the entire series of a classic favorite, The O.C.

Making its television debut in 2003, when I was a high school junior, the popular teen drama went for four glorious seasons, only one of which I watched religiously during its actual run.

The setting of the series is the affluent "Mcmansion" ridden neighborhoods of Newport Beach, California. The characters are Orange County's finest, richest, most devious families. At the center of the show, is the Cohens.

The patriarch of the family, Sandy, is a non-California native, who left the Bronx, New York, at 17 to attend UC Berkeley, which is where he met the love of his life, Kirsten, who is the rock of the family.

Kirsten grew up in Newport, and her father basically owns the town. He built the real estate company "The Newport Group", and is controlling and over-bearing. Kirsten and Sandy move to Newport when their son, Seth, is 2 to help her father run the business.

When the series begins, Seth is 16 or so. He is the epitome of the perfect guy for me.

He's tall and dark, and the biggest nerd ever. He has the kindest heart, and the best family. He has a darling girlfriend, Summer Roberts, whom he won over after Ryan (the Cohen's adopted son) comes to town and puts Seth on the social map of their snootie private school, Harbor.

Seth is truly a great guy, but a little on the socially challenged side, which makes Summer his perfect match, she is in the prime social circles, and her best friends, Marissa Cooper, is social chair for Harbor.

The show starts when Sandy brings his job as a public defender home with him, a strapping young man deemed Ryan Atwood.

Ryan is in juvenile hall for stealing a car with his troublesome brother, Trey. Sandy feels a connection with this young hoodlum from Chino, and lets him stay with the family for a few days in the pool house.

Sandy and Kirsten let Ryan stay with them after he helps Seth out of a bind at a beach house party, and he and Seth become like real brothers quickly.

The show is full of good life lessons, and great drama when you need it.

Each season had its own special moments...rights of passage, fist fights, and pregnancy scares.

There were high school graduations, lies about finances, college applications, and unexpected love lurked everywhere. It was glorious.

The finale was watched by Sarah, Nikki and I today, and it was bittersweet.

I am a little sad to be leaving the confines of The Cohens.

BUT, I am on the lookout for my Seth.

2010: A Space Odyssey

2010-01-20T15:52:00.000-08:00

I just realize I have been in outer space.

It became a new DECADE 20 days ago and I barely even noticed.

I guess that's what living in Europe will do to a girl.

Things I learned from 2009: ( 5 now, 5 later)

*Authors note: I often take inspiration from songs, and find that muscians can say things exactly the way I would, but better.

10. When is comes to making a decision, we often make up our mind immediately, but saying it out loud makes it real. We then own it.

Sometimes the hardest thing and the right thing, are the same.
- The Fray

09. John and I used to ask what the REAL question is.
The REAL story is that there is no REAL story, when it comes to REAL life.

The answers we find are never what we had in mind, but we make it up as we go along.
-Nine Days

08. Sometimes all we need is a change of scenery for a change in attitude.

If you could use some exotic booze, there's a bar in far Bombay.
-Michael Buble

07. A good group of girl friends is key to life. There's nothing like them, no one can replace them and they make life worth living. Huge shout outs to the girls...I couldn't do it without you.

Girls just wanna have fun.
-Cindy Lauper

06. It takes work to be happy. It takes effort to feel good. It takes exercise to be thin. It takes determination to say no to bear claws & bacon sandwiches and it takes patience to love your friends.

You better WORK.
-Madonna

The Cold, Cold Rain

2010-01-17T09:36:00.000-08:00

In January, I struggle.

My whole life I have been able to work through the temporary seasonal affective disorder because I was living in California, a place where the winter weather is usually mild...the rainy days last less than a week, and temperature rarely drops below 50.

The last two years, I have been able to escape the sadness especially well, due to my employment at a place that brings general joy and happiness to coffee drinkers around the globe.

I always knew that whatever the weather, I could walk into work and make it better with something hot.

Not to mention my first year in Chico when me and Steven would skip class if it was raining and have lunch at the Brewery, then hot chocolates, the rain made us so down!

Last winter, in my 100 year old brick house made into a studio, my space heater kept me warm like a personal fireplace.

I find creative ways to keep happy and warm.

This year, I am out of ideas.

I know what you're thinking. She's in France for heaven's sake, what more happiness can she need?

Well, when its been cloudy and wet for weeks, constantly is around 35 degrees, everything is made from grey-beige stone, the leaves have been long gone from the trees, and your mother has just left, things can get kind of tough.

Don't get me wrong, France any time of year is special and amazing and worth every minute of time spent enjoying the culture...but today I miss California.

Paris, J'taime

2010-01-04T03:16:00.001-08:00

How very Da Vinci Code of me to be standing here under the Louvre

Mother rides the metro!

Mum and I at Notre Dame

Overlooking the fabulous Seine

In the middle of the hike up to the Sacre Coeur

Out on the town

Self -taken Eiffel Tower photo. The once straight tower appears to be leaning..

At the beginning of every train journey, one must always validate their train ticket.

Mumsy and I have arrived home from our trip to Paris, and she is leaving tomorrow...I can hardly believe it! These two weeks have just flown by, I don't know how I'll let her go!

Paris was a rousing success! We left early Friday morning on the high speed TGV train and arrived in Paris just before 1pm to flurries of snow and 30 degree weather, much to mothers dismay.

Our hotel was a quaint (is there any other kind in Paris?) little gem near La Republique and was just what we needed to sleep and do a little relaxing at night....it had a large window overlooking darling Frenchie apartments with curly wire balconies charatersitic to Paris and to France.

New Year's day (Friday) we trekked to the Eiffel tower, as it was one of the few attractions open on a national holiday.

Once we arrived at the park where the monument is, we were shocked and appaled at the lines! There were TONS of people! After a few quick photos, we jumped on the metro and headed to the Latin Quarter for a hot chocolate from Starbucks!

Saturday was jam-packed with metro rides, traipsing all over, and a little reuinion with Sarah and her friend, Alex.

We met up with the dynamic duo at a resraurant in the Latin Quarter that Sarah and I have deemed "our place" because it has a wonderful 3 course frenchie lunch for 10 euro....

It was so wonderful to see her after almost 2 weeks of being apart! We had to much to talk about, and Alex and mother could hardly get a word in with her and I talking a million miles a minute about all the important things that had happened over Christmas break.

Before lunch, we went to the Sacre Coeur but when it began to snow, we said, okay that's enough..to Starbucks, then? We did manage to find some gifties that my Aunt had requested and some nice churchie music for mother. I do love a cathedrale gift shop.

After our lunch date, we headed to The Bon Marche in search of brassieres. I have been needing some new ones since my stint with Weight Watchers, and what better place than the first department store (and only on the left bank of Paris) to purchase some! It was a total success, I got two lovely new undergraments.

A hop, skip and a jump on the metro later, we were at "les grand magasins" which is a collection of the largest departments stores in Paris (except of course for The Bon Marche), The Galleries Lafayette and Printemps.

It was a lovely day of shopping!

Sunday was a crazy day.

Our train wasn't even leaving Paris until after 9pm, so we had the whole day ahead of us!

We headed to the Louvre to go to the gift shop and look at the books. It was, however, free Sunday at the grand museam, so all of Paris was there. The lines were so long it was unreal.

We did manage to find some nice gifties for Matt and my mother's husband (better known as my father), so that was a major step in the right direction.

It was a cold, cloudy day, but mother and I decided to walk the Seine to Notre Dame and my favorite English bookstore, Shakespeare & Co.

There was a mass going on inside the famous cathedrale, which was cool and something I'd never seen before, even though that was 3rd trip to Notre Dame.

After a quick Refresh Mint tea at Starbucks, we climbed on the metro to retrive our bags from the hotel (they were kind enough to store them for the day), we were off to the train station to meet our TGV to Aix..where we arrived just after midnight to the pouring January rain.

Swiss Alps and Swiss Chocolate

2009-12-30T08:02:00.000-08:00

The large bridge that extends out over Lake Geneva

Which, is the largest lake in Europe

Geneva's most famous jet stream of water, which shoots out of the lake into the air

Gorgeous snow falling in Chamonix

The little cog train that took us up into the Alps to the top

It was so cold we only smiled to take a picture

Ski lift device that took us up into the skiers paradise

Inside the ski lift