Montpelier, which is up in Vermont.

We took a day trip to Montpelier last Saturday. Lucy organized it and kept reminding us to buy tickets, which we eventually did. Days like this are long and tiring, but fulfilling nonetheless. We wandered around town, I bought a really cute skirt and Liz bought two very attractive dresses. For the most part, however, we saw things. Here are the highlights:

It amazes me how all of the major cities that I've been to have carousels. We had two during the Christmas market. Here's Montpelier's:

The "Place de la Comedie" or the square around this building kind of marks the center of town. There were people on strike on Friday. I'm not sure what they're protesting; I'm never really sure what people are protesting.

I noticed this in Nice to some extent, but the full-wall murals were even more impressive here.

If you look, you'll notice that this wall is relatively flat...

But you wouldn't know it even if you stood at this angle and stared for 15 minutes. Which we did.

The walls of the cathedral are really pretty.

And the gargoyles and flying buttresses, too.

I have a lot of pictures of pipe organs. This one was particularly beautiful.

Out in front of the Cathedral.

Despite that Montpelier is the oldest French non-Greco-Roman city, it has this pretty neat aqueduct. 

So then we came home and went to bed. It was a long, beautiful, COLD day.

Weekend Shenanigans

We had a party for a friend's birthday last Friday night. It was fun; there were a lot of people crammed into a fairly small one-bedroom (+kitchen, bathroom, and living room) flat that two of our friends occupy. There was a lot of socializing, some pretty cool costumes, and a constant supply of REALLY WEIRD French music videos.

As we were changing back into normal clothes to go home (or out to the bar, for some), there was a loud crash and then the sound of shattering glass for what seemed like forever. The pantry in the kitchen, which should have been (and seemed to at one point have actually been) bolted into the wall had decided that it was time to fall over. The damage was assessed and cleaned up as quickly as possible, although it is likely that our assessment overlooked a number of things. As the kitchen was being swept, the downstairs neighbors came up and knocked on the door, saying that their ceiling had just broken and that they had no lights.

I was on the other side of the apartment and only heard all of this second-hand, but it seems like we assistants just can't get a break. The girls who lived their said that they would call their landlord Monday (today) and see if he could come up and get things worked out. It's a rather somber end to a great party to have a piece of furniture that could've killed one of us go tumbling into a space where many of us had previously been standing.

Saturday was great fun, too.

We woke up and headed down to the gare routiere (bus station) around 11, and hopped on a bus to Marseille. For those of you unfamiliar with the perks of socialism, there is a rule in France that stores can have sales in January and in July, and that's it. This means that the entire country goes on sale for the month of January, and we who live here during that time benefit from heavily discounted (although relatively picked-over) merchandise.

Marseille is a cheaper city than Aix, and we went down to shop the "soldes" or sales. I bought a pair of jeans for 7€ and a dress for 5€.

Then we went ice skating, which was great fun. I think I'll go back. It costs 10-15€ to go skate (depending on the day of the week and some other factors).

Sunday was lazy, although we wandered around Aix and shopped some more of the soldes at stores that had an "ouverture exceptionelle." It's a nice change to have shops open on Sundays. It also didn't rain, which was abnormal but pleasant.

Perhaps this week will be equally nice.

Sleep?

This semester has had quite rocky beginnings. I've been back in Aix for a week and a half, and everyone I talk to has been rather down since getting back home. On the one hand, we're thrilled to be back in France and getting to see each other, but on the other, none of us seem to feel like we had enough time with our friends and families back home.

A week and a half later, I can't continue to blame jet lag on my ridiculous sleep schedule. On a somewhat regular basis (and by "somewhat regular" I mean "every night"), I've been staying up until two or two thirty in the morning talking to Jason after he gets off work. This is fine, since on most days I don't start class until one, but it's a very odd schedule to maintain. Something about sleep rhythms makes me feel like the sleep I'm getting isn't as restful as it could be. That said, I wouldn't exchange getting to chat every night for going to bed earlier.

Last week, we had a(nother) run-in with Upstairs Neighbor. We had a few friends over to watch a film, and as we were walking them out (because the front gate stays locked), he came downstairs and chewed us out for waking him up. The next day, he called three of us into his office and made us sign a paper that said (in rough translation):

Dear sirs and madams,

Several times, I have had to physically come to your rooms between 11:30 and 1:30 to make you shut up.
I have also called you to my office to ask you to stop having guests in the building. 

On January 6 at 11:10 in the evening, I was once again woken up by laughs and loud voices. Then, there was noise until 1:40 in the morning (of doors, furniture being moved on the ground, falling objects...)

I am reminding you that:

• The rooms you rent are leased to you for a minimal sum; they are places to relax and not to party.
• Visitors are formally forbidden between 9 p.m. and 8 a.m. You are restricted to certain rules of life and required to respect your neighbors by avoiding making noise between 9 p.m. and 8 a.m.

I hope that this written reminder with allow us to finally live in the same building in a pleasant manner.

What is the most frustrating is not that he is irked about our noise; that's actually understandable. What's most frustrating is that his way of dealing with it is to come down and chew us out. After talking with some professors, we have learned that at least some people think that he's not in his right mind. That said, we're treading cautiously at least for the moment, as his threats have been in the vein of "if you keep this up, I'm having you kicked out." It doesn't seem to bother anybody that he has a little yappy dog, just saying.

Having the inability to socialize at home really makes me sad. I keep telling myself that it's just a few more months.

Jason should be come at the end of February, which is really exciting. I really do love this city, and I definitely enjoy showing it off. 

I'm kind of rambling now. Maybe I'll go back to sleep. Help this sleep schedule stay odd.

It's Good to be Home

When I texted that to Mom today, she sent me a message back that said, "We don't like to think of Aix as your 'home.'" And I guess she has a point; it's a temporary residence, after all.

That said, I tend to toss the word "home" around pretty loosely. When I lived in Oxford, I would say I was going home to mean that I was going from Jackson to Oxford or from Oxford to Jackson. When I worked at camp, home was cabin 3. Now that I have a residence in Aix, my room is definitely home, as when I'm in town and mention that I'm going to "rentrer," or "go home," I mean that I'm coming back here.

So, it was great to be home and to see everyone over Christmas, it's great to be home in Aix, and it will be great to be home again in April.

Now, I'm going to sleep to try to fend of the inevitable jet lag. And I'm going to sleep at home.