Teaching in France, oh la la!

A new year, a new semester. My last semester. Wait, what?

The last two months literally flew by. I feel like just yesterday I was sitting in my American literature class slowly trudging through Uncle Tom’s Cabin. Thank the gods the semester from hell is over. This time around, I’m in control. I’m making these classes my bitches, not the other way around. Granted, I’m enrolled in 7 more credit hours than I was in the fall, but it’s nothing I can’t handle.

More importantly, my graduation date is looming over my head, laughing at me as it peeks around the corner. Most people I’ve talked to who are graduating this semester are terrified, unsure of what their plans are or where to start. I’ll admit I’m a little wary of what is to come, but just yesterday I submitted my application to the Teaching Assistant Program in France, which if I’m accepted into, will require me to move to France in late September. Euh…quoi?

Zat eez correct! There is a distinct possibility that all my dreams will come true this year and I’ll be moving to Europe. Granted, I won’t be living in Paris, but I’ll take whatever I can get. The TAPIF program pays post-graduates between the ages of twenty and thirty to teach English in schools of all levels all over France. The pay is a little dismal, especially after taxes, but it’s just enough to get by. Of course I’ll have to take on a summer job or two to pay my way there, (and first month’s rent…I’ll also have to find an apartment, yikes!) but at this point, I’ll do absolutely anything to make sure that I’ll be in France before the year is out.

This is the hard part, I suppose. The waiting. I won’t find out if I’ve been accepted into the program until early April…a whole three months away! To say my fingers are permanently crossed is an understatement.  I truly hope that everything works out for me, because an opportunity like this is definitely a once in a lifetime deal.

Till next time, mes amis, bisous!

Paris Holds the Key

Mindlessly scrolling through tweets the other day, I came across one that spoke to me. We live in a world where it's rare to find someone who's not connected in some way or a coffee shop that doesn't offer free Wi-Fi, so we often scroll through our news feeds not really taking anything in. However, this one piece of 140-character goodness got me thinking. The tweet, written by my lovely friend Wesley (on Twitter: @Wes_Alexander_), read: "Be it a romance, a great friendship, or a love of culture, I want my first experience in Paris to be a story of true love."

As the words went dark on the screen when my phone went back to sleep, I sat there (with little Binx next to me, of course) thinking about my own first experience in Paris. It came to my attention that my month in that city was all three of those things, combining together to formulate the ultimate story of true love. 

A love of culture. I fell in love with the culture all over again, as if I was my fourteen year old self in a high school French 1 classroom learning numbers and "Hi, my name is...". I was constantly surrounded by a people who appreciate art and history and who are immersed in and who make up the glamour that is Paris. The bakery owners and the cute waiters, the museum staff and even the little self-righteous dogs in the park -- they all played a part in making what I thought Paris would be like pre-departure exactly what it was for me when I arrived. Paris: the lights and the sounds and the feeling that there was more to the world than what I'd experienced living in Florida for twenty years, was absolutely everything I dreamed it would be. I feel a connection with that city in a way I didn't think was possible, and I've realized recently that that's where I'm meant to be. My love of Paris is what keeps me going on days where all I want to do is give up and lay on my bedroom floor and sob because I can't get through a book I'm supposed to read for a class or because my parents are upset with something I've said. The thought, no, the knowledge that I'm going back so soon is what keeps me alive. That's true love.

A great friendship. I went to Paris without actually knowing anyone who was in my study abroad program. Sure, I'd talked to a few of them over Facebook chat a few times to discuss airport logistics and whatnot, but I wasn't going there with friends in tow. All of that changed about two weeks in, and I left Paris with more friends than I was expecting. But these friends aren't just travel buddies, these are friends who saw the best and worst of me all in the span of a month; these were friends who experienced with me the fireworks at the Eiffel Tower (Feu d'Artifice) on Bastille Day, all laughs and smiles, and who also saw me drunk and crying 10 minutes before leaving for the airport to go back to the United States. Living in a foreign country together for a month bonded us all for life, and I still talk to and regularly see almost all of them. That's true love.

A romance. After being in the city of love for four days, I met someone with whom I spent several hours exploring the city, lounging on the Champ de Mars underneath a looming Eiffel Tower, and dancing the night away to French pop music. Though it was nothing serious, nor was it true love, I learned through that experience that people will often come into your life so that you can see things from their perspective, and then they'll walk right back out, and you'll be fine with it. Maybe it was a true coincidence or maybe it was the corny cliché that is having a romance in Paris that brought us together for that short time. Whatever it was, I'm grateful for that experience and if I've learned anything from it is that you shouldn't ever have any regrets about things you've done in the past, because put simply, it's in the past. Living in the moment is essential to living fully and passionately. 

True love: that's what Paris was for me, and will hopefully continue to be as soon as I get back there in the next year. My time there taught me so much more than living in Florida for twenty years ever did, and that's how I know it's where I'm supposed to be; that's how I know I'm fully capable of getting myself back on that plane.

Stardust

When I first launched this blog back in February, the idea behind it was that I would regularly post about my travels, specifically the experiences I was to have during my time in Europe and hopefully beyond that as I got older. That idea is still there, though since I'm currently living in Tallahassee going to school, I'm going to focus more on the things that are happening in my life right now and my thoughts as I near my graduation date, travel-related or otherwise. The past two months have been sort of a blur, the highlights fuzzy images of books I've attempted to read and finish, Halloween parties, football games, a special little grey kitten named Binx, and university parking garages. All of these things come with the mundane, though somehow still exciting life I lead as a Florida State Seminole. However blurry my vision might be when I look back on this semester though, this weekend was an eye-opener. It was like going to the optometrist and putting a pair of glasses I've needed since the sixth grade on for the first time. Cheesy? Yes. True? Also yes. I feel like this might belong on Tumblr instead of an actual blog.

This weekend I got to have a few fantastic conversations with a couple of new friends, as well as old friends of course. Topics mostly revolved around travel, experiences while abroad, et cetera. Through all the pressure I've felt this semester regarding what it is I'm planning on doing after graduation (that seems to be the question of the century), it was almost like a giant weight was lifted off my shoulders. In the last three or four days, I've realized that no one knows what they're doing after graduation. Especially as a student who is graduating in three years instead of the normal four, that was beyond relieving to hear. I'm only 20! What's that Britney song called again? "I'm Not A Girl, Not Yet A Woman"? Pop princesses aside, if I met any young woman my age in my situation who knew exactly what she was doing after school, I'd be amazed. I'd also question her sanity.

So, what it all really boils down to is: what do I want? Truthfully, I want to leave again. I want to travel longer and I want to travel further. So, that's what I'm going to do. After school, I'll find a couple of humdrum jobs so that I can save money, I'll keep blogging, and as soon as I have a few thousand saved, I'm off to Paris again. This is my decision, and this time I'm sticking to it. I owe it to myself to be happy, to live the life that I want instead of being stuck doing something that 's practical or failsafe but that my heart isn't in. 

It's time to live for yourself.

Parisian Fashion: What to Pack

Salut, mes amis!

Before I start delving into all the little stories and experiences I have from my time in the fabulous city that is Paris, I thought I would start my series of Parisian posts with a topic that I had to address when I was packing my suitcase: what do I wear while in one of the most fashionable cities in the world?

This is a question women (and men) have been fussing over for years now, and I think it’s safe to say that there are a few key things to know before you go and blow all your money on a whole new wardrobe to take abroad. The first thing, which I can say from experience, is that no matter how hard you try, you WILL look like a tourist. To follow up with that, if you are American, most of the French can see that even before you can utter a word of your Franglish.

This next bit is directed at the ladies: let’s be honest, unless we are born and bred in Paris, there’s no way we’ll ever have the same graceful sophistication and aura that is exclusive to French women. So before you twist your ankle in those stilettos while walking the cobblestone streets, why not pack a few pairs of strappy sandals and some elegant looking flats? If heels are necessary, I recommend pairs that have a thick or even a wedge heel. Trust me, your feet and your dignity will still be intact by the end of your trip!

Before I left, I did lots of research regarding what is acceptable to wear while in the streets and while sightseeing. Many of the articles I read suggested floral print sundresses, linen trousers, cardigans, black pants, lots of neutral colors, etc. These are all things that I packed, and they all worked for me and helped a little when it came to “blending in”. The single motif I saw while browsing online though was the constant condemnation of denim cut-offs. Having grown up in Florida, I practically live in shorts, it’s too hot for anything else! While I don’t recommend “booty” shorts per se, I don’t see anything wrong with short denim cut-offs, and I wore them all over the place while in Paris! However, if you’re planning on going into any of the cathedrals, (Sacre Coeur especially, they have guards to make sure anyone with inappropriate clothing isn’t allowed inside) I suggest mid-thigh length as the shortest you can go in terms of shorts and skirts, and maybe covering up your shoulders.

A perfect example of denim cut-offs AND flat shoes, and she looks perfectly put-together!

Note: when in doubt, black is ALWAYS in style!

I promise, dressing well in Paris isn’t as difficult as it may seem, because everyone does it! As long as you’re not wearing a fanny pack or a pair of running shoes with your socks pulled up to your calves and a nice Hawaiian print shirt, you should be okay!

Questions or comments on this post? Feel free to shoot me e-mail at katieanne93@gmail.com!

Note: None of these photos belong to me.

Paris - July 2013: Overview

Bonjour à tous!

I haven't written since early this summer, but I am happy to say that I'll be posting a little more regularly from now on, school permitting.

That being said, I cannot WAIT to share with all of you (by all... I mean all 3 or 4 of you) my stories and experiences from the most beautiful city on Earth: Paris! Words simply cannot describe how entirely perfect my month abroad was, but they'll have to do. In the weeks to come I'll be writing about all the places I visited, all the different foods I ate, as well as some of the shopping I did. 

Below are a few of the highlights from my trip, and I promise there are more to come. I cannot express enough how perfectly beautiful my time in Paris was, and just how much I fell in love with this city. As strange and dramatic as it may sound, if I were to get on a plane back tomorrow, I'm convinced it would feel like going home. 

"America is my country and Paris is my hometown." - Gertrude Stein

All of these photos belong to me.

Pond Hopping

I woke up almost half an hour early this morning, which is strange for me because usually I try to catch every last Z that I can before waking up and trudging into my summer classes which start relatively early. There was a little pit in my stomach that felt like a big weight, though it wasn't a bad weight -- it was an excited one. I checked the calendar on my phone and counted the little boxes to find out that my trip to Paris is in eleven days. Eleven. What? It feels like just yesterday was the day I booked my flights, and now it's time to start getting my things together and pack my suitcase! This is all too strange, and it still doesn't really feel real. 

I'm going to Paris, France for a month to study abroad. I feel like I'm going to wake up and it will all have been just a dream. Just writing this I'm getting the heebie jeebies. 

Not only am I going to Paris, I'm also bought train tickets to spend a weekend in Geneva, Switzerland! I'm hoping to maybe find a good place to hike, because according to my research, you can see Mont Blanc from the highest point in the city. I'm also excited about that because I've never set foot on a train...that will definitely be an experience!

Note: I do not own any of these photos.