|
jeannmarie
|
read my profile
sign my guestbook
Name: jeanna Country: United States State: Texas Metro: Austin Birthday: 7/20/1985 Gender: Female
Interests: black sand, bright eyes, broken social scene, chai, coffee, cold weather, cookies, cursive, easymac, explosions in the sky, fugazi, guatemala, indie, interpol, iqu, jazz, jimmy eat world, laughing, les savy fav, london, martini glasses, mice parade, mono, mount eerie, movies, my room, my shoes, no knife, pinback, portastic, running, sleep, smiles, snowboarding, soccer on the beach, stars, the cansecos, the french kicks, the mars volta, the moon, the notwist, the sun, the unicorns, tortoise, ultimate frisbee, vagabonding. Expertise: running, being sarcastic, shy, talkative, optimistic, lazy, studious, having a good time, laughing too much, eating cookies, hugs, sleeping...i dunno. you tell me. Occupation: Student Industry: Entertainment
Message: message me
Member Since:
11/22/2004
|
|
| this is a post to save my blog. i haven't the time to switch to a new blog nor the money to print all these out. bah. thankyou
| | |
| Bud Light Presents Real Men of Genius. Real Men of Genuis
Today we salute you Mr. Way Too Proud of Texas Guy.
Mr. Way Too Proud of Texas Guy!
Men from lesser states might know their state's capital, but you? You know your state's bird, tree and even reptile.
Love that horny toad.
You display your pride with your Lone Star tattoo, "Native Texan" bumper sticker, and contempt for any state that doesn't start with "Tex" and end with "as."
That spells Texas.
Sure, there are 49 other states in the Union, but they are smaller, wussier, and the people talk funny.
Yankee wussies.
So crack open a nice cold Bud Light, oh lover of the Lone Star state. Because all that flag waving must have made you thirsty. | | |
| so apparently my last update was october 15. oops. not that i haven't ghostly checked up on xanaga every once in awhile, but really, not having overly saturated access to internet takes its toll sometimes. my grandparents are constantly sending me mails titled "ARE YOU ALIVE?" and i am. but really. i know that they don't REALLY want to hear of all the things i do here. i'm going to try to fill in some highlights while i sit here in this (finally) free internet cafe/coffee bar listening to french baristas rock out to the killers first album (the velvet sun that shines on me and you...). one of the many albums that screams austin to me...lets see. after more crazy landlady drama, all the other roommates (who weren't desperately waiting on federal funds like me) moved out to other places. landlady went on christmas vacation, so i had the place entirely to myself-which was perfect as i had several people over. christmas was spent with a girl from colorado from one of my classes and my crazy addicted-to-amsterdam friend robert-whom i met in the hostel ages ages ages ago and has spent many a holiday visiting me in paris. they left two days later, to be instantly replaced by my italian friend carlotta (also from the hostel), my ancient crazy ass shsu friend allie, and then a scottish bloke andy, whom i met in the london hostel over new years two years ago. and who is still as much of an alchoholic as he was when we met...only now he has a real job, so he decided to pay for all things krunk when he was here. which was cool. ok, really cool. turns out having so many friends over saved my life, as i was actually not able to afford foods etc at this point. hah.
so the monies finally came through, and maria (norwegian) and i started looking to find our escape from the terrible still lying about stealing out things madame finet. i mean really, when there are no other roommates, how does she think she can lie about eating our food? second place we looked at was just right, located in the beating heart of the bastille. i mean, as much as living in the 16th was calm, safe, quiet. fuck that. now i live down the street (literally) from bars galore-as well as an actual community-not just throngs of old french women and their dogs. i also changed schools. decided that the inner debate i'd been fretting over--meeting major requirements for economics/math wasn't worth the worry. so now i'm in all french courses, all taught in french, for french students. at dauphine, the courses that would meet requirements back in the states were taught in english or i'd already had them at texas so it didn't make sense to retake them...so yeah.
other ramblings: when i had the prospect of living in paris, i never thought that the color of my hair would matter. turns out there aren't many blondes in france, and therefore, i got alot more attention...my hair's always brought me more attention than i'd prefer-i can remember being little and angry that i had to say thankyou to every stranger (usually old ladies) telling me i should thank god everyday for the color of my hair. but it was all positive attention i suppose. a funny random story from paris-i was walking to the local tabac to buy minutes for my phone, and a guy was whistling/talking to me-trying to get my attention. in paris, that's normal. i walk faster. as i turn into the tabac, the guy passes (as slowly as he can) me while staring at me and repeating "blondie blondie blondie". so went the last day of blonde hair. now i'm living a quite calmer less attention grabbing life as a brunette. AND i have eyebrows for the first time in my life. they're addictive.
i also recently returned from visiting my friend carlotta. she lives in padova, which is a 20min train ride away from venice. beautiful beautiful. i had planned my visit around the annual carnivale-which was more than super. think halloween with an emphasis on 17th century garb and masks. in the streets. with djs. everywhere. and people dancing and drinking everywhere you happen to find enough space to. only downer was that i don't speak italian. i mean, i can say ciao. and there isn't exactly an abundance of english/french speakers. however, i did easily draw curiousity from those that did. here's an exact conversation that will hopefully draw a smile or two:
guy:so you're from the states? which state? me: why don't you guess? do you think i'm from the west? guy: you're from california! me: but then again, what if i'm from the north? guy: ohio? me: or maybe, maybe i'm from the east? guy: ah, you're from virginia, i know it. me: you know it? because i'm from the south guy: florida. it has to be florida. [i shake my head no for the fourth time] guy: but this is too hard! give me a hint! me: ok ok, where is the one place on earth the entire world hates? guy: YOU'RE FROM TEXAS!!!!!! me: [shakes head in disbelief and utter sadness]
so theres an update. there are no doubt a million other stories that will probably sprout up in the millions conversations to come, but i can't seem to think of anything else. except that i seem to have landed something of a boyfriend. he's not french. reminds me of a shorter antonio banderas. except he's not spanish either. my new one and only friend i know from istanbul. i find myself growing more and more homesick-i mean, i was depressed homesick around thanksgiving, but now ive started feeling ready to be back in austin. really ready. maybe that will change come june. doubtful though. it'll be hard as a sampling of austin's coming to visit me for spring break. just a little tease of home. in a week claire, john, steph, and nikki will be in paris-and fuck i'm excited. ciao friends.
| | |
| l'auberge espagnole. i watched (and bought) this movie this past summer, and was determined that i wanted to live just like that in paris. at first i was a little dissapointed with myself, living in an apartment with an older almost completely estranged french woman while sharing a room with another american chick. all the other rooms were empty, besides one in the very back, occupied with another american girl, courtney from virginia, who's here teaching elementary kiddos in the banlieu english. then two south african boys moved in. dewald, the model who sings all the time, and altus, the shorter, more intellectual/nerd/closet gay. they speak africaans and english. they're here working on their final electrical engineer project, mostly for now just getting used to the french servers at their school. then courtney moved out, because it's highly unreal that any student-or teacher-can afford to live in their own room for 900 euros a month. about a week later two norwegian girls, madeleine and maria, moved in to the main room. they're sharing a couch like the two south africans-while putting up with everyone else's presence, for their and the room behind them are blessed with wireless worthy of leeching off of. a week later the last back room was filled by a swedish pair-not dating-rikard and evelyn. all 8 (9 with landlady) share one toilet room, one bathtub, and one kitchen, which consists of one small small refrigerator, an oven/grill top, one washing machine sans dryer, and one sink. oh, and an ancient dishwasher that smells like ass/doesn't work. the landlady moved to her miniscule studio upstairs, which is better, though she still comes down when she wakes up to haunt us with her aged pre/post shower nakedness, spending her days talking on the phone to god knows who and stealing our food while we're at class. hélène, the landlady, finally left for vacation on tuesday, and to celebrate, we all decided to throw a party. after giving the tour of the flat to a particular austrian girl, she commented "this is so cool! just like the spanish apartment." i'm not trying to brag. it's not the exact situation presented in barcelona, but i really enjoy all 7 of my flatmates. and i suppose the complete offness of the landlord gives me at least a new story everyday. i should really try sleeping some more. it would suck to get sick again.
bizou | | |
| so right near where i live is this huge expanse of woods and lakes and running trails, horse trails etc called the bois de boulogne. i've been waiting for my running shoes in the mail for some time, and as they don't seem to be coming soon, i went ahead and bought some cheaper substiutes. yesterday i put on the new shoes and ran for a little over an hour and a half, getting lost in just maybe a fourth of the woodsy, stream-filled park. today, i got off to a little later of a start, and left around 4:45. right around 5:30, as i made a turn onto this smaller walkway path thing, i was startled by a huge black boob. a brightly dressed, slightly exposed, goliath of a prostitute was standing paris hilton style in this little inlet of forest--with her? dog of course. no less than 200 yards farther down, i notice a guy on a scooter slow down to look at something. another prostitute. this one smaller, more feminin-looking seductively leaning on some fence thing. i can't deny that i was a little frightened of the first one-i was just coming around a corner and the sudden, there she was. a tout a l'heure=) | | |
|