Originally posted on December 14, 2004.

Living’s mostly wasting time
And I waste my share of mine
But it never feels too good
So let’s not take too long
You’re as soft as glass and I’m a gentle man
We got the sky to talk about
And the world to lie upon

–Townes Van Zandt

A late update today. I’ve been rather ill most of the day and have not felt like writing much. I did manage to do quite a bit of reading, watching a lot of old Simpsons episodes, and do a lot of napping. It’s a hard life, I know.

I’ve always been a bit of a voyeur. Not in the dirty, peeping kind of way. I find myself looking into lighted windows, watching people pass me by, and studying others while in a restaurant or store. I find the behavior of others utterly fascinating.

I still remember standing in line at Wet n Wild or Universal Studios in Orlando, FL when I was 14 or 15 and being amazed at all the people. There were gobs, and gobs of people everywhere. We would stand in line and I remember thinking, as I stared at the same people in front and behind of me, that this is the only moment in my life I would ever see these people. But they all obviously had their own lives.

It was a profound moment for me to realize that the world is full of people and I will never know in the mildest sort of way. Since then, I guess, I’ve always liked to watch others when they don’t think they are being watched. These days as I look out my window and catch glimpses of others in the apartment across the street I find myself thinking of language. The people over there are just like everyone else, more or less, but I realize that if I could hear what they were saying, if I was that fly on the wall, I would have no idea what they were talking about. Oh, I might catch a word or two, I might gather some gist through gestures and will, but mostly I would just sit confused.

If there is anything I have learned in France thus far it is the utter complexity of language. I speak, in English, every day without thinking about it. Words fly off the tongue and they are gone, meanings are grasped but the words disappear. Yet every day I hear people speaking in French and have no idea what they are saying. I know those strange words have meaning for others to understand and respond to, but it’s like some old mystical song to me. Like that scene in Shawshank Redemption where Tim Robbins plays the bit from the opera. It’s like the words are a cryptic puzzle and I’m missing the key.

I suppose I am learning little pieces of the language at a very slow pace. It’s amazing how nervous I am when trying to speak it to others. Last night I had my French lesson in a Subway. After Ann bought her sandwich I went over to buy myself a drink. I was literally nervous about ordering a Coke. I didn’t even have to ask for it politely, pointing towards the can on the shelf and saying “Coca” would suffice. But I had no buffer with me.

I feared that the lady behind the counter would not be satisfied with my simple order and may ask for more information. Or that she may be friendly and ask about my family, where I was from, or any number of pleasantries. I don’t want to appear as some rude American who refuses to say “I’m fine thanks, and you?” Relations between our countries are difficult enough without me adding to the trouble. What if she asks if I want a sandwich a bag of chips and a cookie? My usual response to French I don’t understand is to smile and nod politely, this could be confused as acceptance of an order I can’t possibly afford. When I finally did order the Coke the two ladies whispered to each other, pointed upstairs to where Ann was and then one spoke in English, “You get free refills with the meal.” Referring to the meal Ann had ordered. I explained I wanted a Coke for myself and somehow felt let down that I had not been challenged with the language.

Walk down that lonesome road all by yourself
Don’t turn your head back over your shoulder
And only stop to rest yourself when the silver moon
Is shining high above the trees
–James Taylor

This morning I had a French lesson at Mcdonald’s at 11 am. Or I was supposed to have one. I left my place at about 10:30 which is a bit more than you need to take the tram, but I was hoping to walk most of it, hopping the tram if I saw I was running late. Mcdonald’s is right off the tram track so I normally walk along the tramway to get there. This time I decided to take a shortcut.

From my flat, the tram actually makes a little curve on its way to Mcdonald’s. By my way of thinking I was going to make a straight shot of it, going from one point of the curve to the next without actually taking the longer curve of it. Does that make sense? Think of a circle and realize that the shortest distance from one point to the next on the circle is a straight line, not a curve.

Apparently, the actual curve is a lot less than I imagined it to be and so I wound up walking more parallel with the tram than actually running into it. This comes from hindsight and was unknown to me at the time. I walked, and walked, and walked always believing I could spot the tram tracks just ahead of me. Eventually, I noticed a little garden section of the city that is on the road to Germany. Knowing that McDonalds was not on the way to Germany I decided to turn.

I walked, and walked, and walked and the road ran out. Before me was a section of a field followed by a lot of trees. Mcdonald’s was definitely not in a forest! I managed to find a map at a bus stop, but I could not find any of the streets around me on the map. Again I walked. Did I mention that the temperature was right around 0 degrees Celsius? Freezing is the word.

Back in the city, and not the forest, all the streets look the same. They are all lines with the same type of tree, they all have the same sort of stores and the apartments look identical when you’re lost. I began to just backtrack hoping to get back to something familiar. Finally, after an hour and a half, I saw the tram pass in the distance! I didn’t know what tram it was or where it was located, but I nearly lept knowing it would take me somewhere in my knowledge of Strasbourg. I kept staring at that spot waiting for another tram to pass, hoping I hadn’t hallucinated it the first time. Nope, a second one passed in minutes.

At about 12:20 I made it back to Mcdonald’s where, of course, my tutor was no longer waiting on me. Another 15 minutes and I was back home. After a few e-mails (EVERY call in France costs money, so it’s easier to e-mail) and lots of apologies Ann, my tutor, forgave me. It turns out the student before me had also not shown up. So poor Ann had waited in Mcdonald’s for three hours!

The rest of the day was uneventful. We went to Daniel and Tammy’s and had a good visit. Then we went grocery shopping. Constantly grocery shopping. When you only have a small cart to carry them in, and a small refrigerator to put them in, you are always grocery shopping.

I was going to write a long treatise on what I have learned while being in France and the differences in races in culture, but something happened and that’s out the door.

We got our books! We got our books! Amy was very excited about it until we actually got the books home and she opened them. Then she realized this means she has no reason not to study for her Ph.D exams! Yuck. But me, I’m thrilled. Now I have lots of good books to keep me busy when I am not reading something from the library 😉

There were three boxes packed inside a giant shipping bag. Initially, we began dragging the bag down the street, but after a few minutes, Amy decided to run and get the cart we used to buy groceries and whatnot. She removed the bag and it made a makeshift hand cart. Instead of just waiting with this giant bag full of boxes on the side of the road, I decided to keep dragging it.

So here I am this very bundled-up American boy dragging a very large bag full of boxes down the streets of Strasbourg. Let’s just say I got more than a few odd looks. As I dragged the bag it began to rip open so I kept turning it over to a nonripped side. The cardboard corners of the boxes made this terribly loud noise as I walked which drew me even more absurd looks from fellow streetwalkers.

Finally, Amy came with the cart and we got it into the building. The elevator, for some reason, didn’t stop at our floor, number 2, but kept going to floor number 4. Oblivious to this fact we went to where our apartment should have been if we were on the right floor and wondered why the keys weren’t working! Red-faced we realized our error and took the elevator back to the second floor and made it home!

As I look at my books I remember my process of selection back in America. I decided that since I would have plenty of time to read I would send myself many of the big fat books I never get around to reading. So I now have Les Miserables, Of Human Bondage, The Fountainhead, and several other mountainous tomes. To offset these behemoths I then filled the rest of the box with sillier novels like Forrest Gump and Bridget Jones’s Diary.

I haven’t finished watching 2001. I just can’t watch that film in one setting. So my review may be a few days later than initially stated. I’m also realizing there isn’t a chance of me giving an in-depth review of what it all means or of all the techniques used to make the film. There are plenty of other places to get that information anyway. I will probably make more personal observations about the movie and what it means to me. Not that anyone really cares anymore.

Apparently, we had an earthquake Saturday night. It wasn’t bad enough to do any real damage but gave enough shaking to wake most of my friends out of bed and give them a good scare. Amy and I slept right through it. I have to say I was a little disappointed with that.

We now have Christmas plans. Our friend from Penn State has a boyfriend, Paco, who lives in Paris. They are both going to visit Paco’s family in Spain for Christmas and have generously offered to lend us his flat in Paris! Christmas in Paris sounds marvelous to me. It couldn’t have come at a better time either. Amy had just spent Sunday morning a little upset about not having Christmas plans and then like an Angel came Elizabeth with her gift.

I’ll be watching 2001 this afternoon so expect a review in a day or so…

This will be short. I was unable to post yesterday due to some problem with blogger. It would let me view my blog, and log into my blog, but I couldn’t access any of the editing menus and was not able to create a new page.

Amy and I have created weekly schedules for ourselves. I have posted mine on my closet door. It’s not particularly full, but hopefully, it will give me some structure and I may actually accomplish some things. I have allocated Monday afternoons as a time for me to critically watch, read, or listen to something. Which is a good term for goofing off with a pencil. Or, rather, to watch a movie, listen to a cd, read a book, and take notes. Hopefully, that will lead to some reviews on this page. We’ve also scheduled some walking so maybe we’ll get into a little better shape.

I got an e-mail yesterday from a girl in one of my e-mail groups. I have created a little signature on my e-mails leading people to my blog and my pictures. It seems this girl saw I was in Strasbourg and e-mailed me because she was thinking of a visit here soon. It was fun because I got to act like an expert on the city and tell her all the places to go. Brewster’s Tour Guide…