An American Girl in Avignon

June 3
Finally! My epic daily conversations to Jean-Pierre, the name of my journal, are finally over! We no longer have to keep a journal! Yay! But in order to remember what I did, I decided to of course jot down what I did each day and update this blog when I got home. Although I resented writing in my journal when we had to, I am glad that this was an assignment. I look back at it now, review my French grammar errors, see how my writing improved over the three months, and also looked back on all I had done and how I felt. It’s a great souvenir which I plan on keeping my whole life, in addition to this blog, of course. :)
Yet this week seems to be the week of work before our two final exams. It’s really strange, because we have two final exams this week, while we have class, and two the next week, when we don’t. Yet, we are still required to go to our last literature class even thought we will have already turned in our exam (that horrid 4 page analysis). Strange but true. It’s France. Just go with it, and don’t ask. Just do.
So tomorrow is our writing exam, which we just found out we had in the midst of our writing class freak out! It was never clearer to me how stressed out everyone else was feeling until our writing class meltdown this afternoon. What an unnecessary disaster! Everyone started yelling at each other. It was hot; I was sweating and getting more and more stressed out by the minute. No one seemed to know what they were supposed to do in the assigned groups. Epic fail. Yelling broke out. A few people started crying…and all over a stupid class project. Deciding which cover to use was like picking favorites between classmates. The project was producing petty fights in every which way shape and form. Poor John, walking around the room trying to calm everyone down and figure out who was doing what with his method of “put your hand down if…” You have to give the guy credit for trying. No one else seemed to want to deal with the mess that was erupting in front of us. And poor Kristina. She had to throw the whole format together that night in addition to the other work all of the teachers were giving us.
Since this was the last week, the fight was a clear sign, that everyone was clearly done. Finished. Kaput with school. Mentally, physically, and emotionally checked out. Mademoiselle Mathis eventually managed to calm us all down before the end of the course, but still, everyone left in a foul mood and a bad taste in their mouth. Deciding who would fulfill what positions had already been a major argument a couple weeks before. After discovering that hardly anyone had done what they were supposed to ended, as predicted, in a big blow up. Man, I was ready to take another weekend trip after that! How much money did it cost to go to Bordeaux for the weekend again, Adam? It’s sounding pretty good about now.
Well that night left me feeling even more down. I don’t really want to say why, but the talk on the phone with my parents ended in a big argument. I really wanted to stay in France forever after something I had found out that day, even though I shouldn’t have really been disappointed about “it” and “it” shouldn’t have bothered me…it did. I hate when things like that happen. They don’t even matter, but for some reason or another, it gets to you. After writing in my journal for the last time (hallelujah. Sorry Jean Pierre, but my journal entries were getting less and less heartfelt. Probably because I was out enjoying myself a little more…it was coming to the end of my stay, after all!)
Knowing that we had history homework and an oral production exam the next day, I decided to call up Kyle and Adam to see if they wanted to study and finish our homework together. I thought it would make me feel a little better after my cruddy day. It did. We killed that homework, and watched the beginning of Across the Universe, with that oh-so-perfect Jim Strugess, that left me wanting to watch more! I can’t believe I had never seen this movie before! Pure artistic genius from what I could tell. Anyway, we wanted coffee and ice cream. Yes, I said coffee, and it was past midnight. I can drink coffee any time of day. It doesn’t even have that much of an effect on me anymore.
The weather in the Place d’ Horologe was beautiful and we sat outside under the moon talking about how we didn’t want to go home, why we weren’t ready, and how much fun we were having…minus the stress of school that week. It was exactly what I needed: a break. We talked, drank, ate ice cream, and got treated poorly by those oh-so-friendly French waiters (the one we had refused to give Kyle a carafe d’eau aka: water). Typical France. You don’t have to tip here, and there is no tax, because it is already included in the item’s price. Adam said he wished they did tip on occasions such as this. Maybe then they would be nicer. Now usually, I have had my fair share of rude waiters, but in general, the waiters in France are nice. My first blog about my stay in Paris those first four days, which seems like years ago, will show you if you don’t believe me. Again, there are rude people and there are nice people everywhere.