Hello to all of my blog-reading buds. I hope I find you in good health and spirits, even if you are a bit coldy (shoutout to the Liz and the Nadia who are almost certainly the only people who are going to understand that joke – missing you two!)
I hope you forgive me for my being particularly negligent on the blog-writing front recently and yes, I do know that I say that every time I grace you with my presence. But please know that things have been really rather hectic in the weeks (and months?) since I last updated you on the not-so-crazy life of the Laz in Laval. I will have to be honest and say that some crazy things have definitely happened in the meantime. Hehehe.
I look back, and I can’t quite believe more than two months have passed since I first arrived here. Time has been slipping by in that scarily subtle way that it always seems to. Each day seems to just crawl by, (except for the weekends, of course; I blink, and they’re over). but then I look back and all of a sudden, two months have already whirled by without me even noticing.
Life here has settled into its own little rhythm; one which I never really imagined myself getting used to and not hating. But, alas, here we are. I did. When I last wrote, life was just one big jumble of good and not-so-good and so life in general was just about okay. But nowadays, you may be glad to know, that things have been good, and I would even go as far as to say that I might have been enjoying myself. I’m busy but I’m happy. And that’s taking into consideration my unpleasantly long and sometimes more than just a little boring working days. Whoa.
Speaking of which, work has all been fine, really. I mean, sometimes, the tasks I get given are so far beyond mundane it’s untrue and of course there have been some severe cases of office-napping (early mornings and I were just not meant to be) but on the whole it’s tiring but fine. I’m doing it.
And in the evenings I do lots. Mondays are generally a free evening for me but only rarely do I spend that time by myself in my room, despite the fact that I very often set out in the aim of doing just that. Something pops up, and so I go out. Which is good, since it turns out that nowadays I am actually very bad at spending that time by myself in my room. On Tuesdays, I go to Salsa lessons. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t a little reluctant to join in with everyone when I first arrived in Laval and I would also be lying if I told you that after having attended about ten lessons I actually knew what I was doing… but it’s fun and really, how can you wrong with a little bit of Latino music to ease you towards the mid-way point of the working week?
I have joined the local orchestra, which is how I occupy myself on a Wednesday night. Taking into consideration my far from perfect flute-playing in ordinary circumstances, when I fully understand everything that’s being said to me, you can imagine my wrong note ratio is quiiiiite high when all of the instructions are given in French during a total brain workout that no one should have to go through late on a Wednesday night (let me just clarify that when I say late, I mean between 8 and 10pm. The Spanish Laz might have called that early evening. French Laz calls it bedtime) I would also like to add that contrary to all orchestras I have EVER played in before, where there have been at least 8 flutes, in this one there is just one apart from mine. My horror during my first practice when I realised that I could actually hear myself as opposed to being completely drowned out by all other instruments was intense. However, two weeks ago we actually gave a concert and I thought it all went really nicely. I didn’t even have one attack of the giggles, despite being able to see my friends, who so kindly came to watch, throughout the whole performance. Proud.
Thursdays are the night I hit the Irish pub and let it all go. Well, until 10pm. Of course that was the place to be on St Patrick’s night. I tried (and liked?!) Guinness. So I guess I’m truly Irish now. And I even stayed out past ma bedtime that night. It really was a mad one paha. On Fridays there is quite often something going on with my pals. On Saturdays I do my carrot shopping at the market which, if you know me at all, you will understand is critical and of high importance. And Sundays are just the greatest. We invariably start the day with a group breakfast, heavily stocked up with croissants and pain au chocolat from the award-winning bakery just across the street. Then we take a trip to somewhere which isn’t Laval, which as nice as Laval can be, is just what you want, really. We have been on a few trips to the sea and have seen many a castle. One day I have high hopes I will even make it as far away as Paris. That is the dream.
With regards to my French-learning, which let’s face it, is the whole reason I am here in the first place, it’s going okay; I’m getting there. Albeit a little slowly. I am understanding a lot better now. Sometimes I even know what the Frenchies are saying to me when I have to answer the phone at work…. I can participate in conversations at lunch with the French peeps I work with (if I want to; sometimes I prefer to spend my lunchtimes just chilling with the cat. Especially since I’m not sure if any of my colleagues ever got over the fact that once I accidentally announced to them that I was “pregnant” and instead of saying that I was “too full” when they asked me if I wanted some dessert. Oh the unimaginable problems that arise when you’re speaking your second language. ) I am also still coming to terms with the fact that some day soon I am going to have to think about and then God forbid do research for and write a rather long essay for York. I continue to pray for inspiration. Please send help.
And now I will disappear because it’s after 10pm here so well past my bedtime – sorry guyzz. I have a lot of plans for the near future in France which begin with the not-so-exciting (i.e. living at work for two weeks – yes, really) to the really-quite-exciting such as night-training it back to my beloved Spain for a fleeting visit to see the Hannah in Barcelona and watching the French Open tennis in Paris. It’s all too much.
For now I will love you and leave you and promise to write again sometime in the near(ish) future.
All my love,