The secret excitement of chores

Why is it that even the most hated chore can be enjoyable when it's your own place you're cleaning? Washing dishes suddenly becomes fun when they are your own dishes in the sink. The floor is dirty? I can use my broom to sweep! One spot on the table? Let me pull out all my cleaning supplies to clean it off!

Real life full speed ahead

With my apartment keys in one hand and my suitcase in the other I walk head first into real life adulthood. With it comes bills, check books, and a whole lot of head aches. 

And last night was my first night sleeping in my new room. Scary, empty house all alone...

But nothing that a meal with your own dishes and a shower can't fix. 

You know what? Maybe growing up isn't so bad. 

1st month finished already??

Time is flying by so fast I can barely keep up.

It has been a full month to the day since my return to this country and I'm still not use to everything...
I am still surprised to hear English everywhere I go. You may think, well yeah, Ashley, of course English is spoken here. But to my brain when I hear conversations I think that they would be in French.

Adrienne asked me the other day, "So, you know how there's the English side and the French side on boxes? Well, when you pick up a box what side do you read?" The plus side of knowing the two languages in the bilingual country is you read whatever side is facing you.
I have found it very annoying though when they have a sentence in English and then the exact same thing in French and then something else in English and then in French again, because like that, I read everything twice.

Also, what is with Canadian French?? I was listening to the French radio station the other day and I could barely understand it. Everything is pronounced differently and said in a different way that we just don't say over in France.

I keep seeing complete strangers here and my brain does this cute little trick where it makes me think its one of my friends from France. I then proceed to have this mini freakout where I think I'm in France. It quickly passes though and I'm left with nostalgia.

I am 7000 feet above sea level, ladies and gentlemen.

The other day we went for a hike in Many Glacier.

We encountered rain, sun, wind, hail, sleet, and a bit of snow. It took us 3 hours to climb the 5.7 miles up to Ptarmigan tunnel which had an altitude of over 7000 feet.

Welcome home

I've been home for a week now and it still feels surreal. In the ten months I was gone Marshall, my 14 year old brother, grew two inches taller than me. Brittney became 8 months pregnant. Adrienne started wearing makeup and the such. And Luana Jane grew the most with her new teeth, coordinated feet to run around with, and the words she has learnt.

I almost got eaten alive by the Mosquitos that swarmed me as soon as I stepped outside. I nearly got on the next plane back to Paris because I just was not use to them! Plus, the bugs seem to like my frenchy blood, which doesn't help the transition. 

I've talked so much about my trip to France, that my voice grew hoarse after the third day of being back. The common questions:

How was France? 

What did you do again?

How was the family?

How's your French now?

Have you decided what you are doing this fall?

I'm almost tempted to write down all of the answers and just hand them out when I go see people.

Goodbye Paris

Some goodbyes are harder than others, but then there are the things that I am happy to say adieu to. I won't miss being at risk for lung cancer everytime I walk outside and get bombarded by second-hand smoke. I swear I'm not going to eat pasta ever again. Baguettes are yummy... But I won't be sad to leave them.

And the metros. I will be very content if I never set another foot into chatelet-les halls, or auber, or really just any metro station in Paris. As convenient as the public transportation is, I am certain the underground stations are where zombie apocalypses start. With their ceilings covered in what looks like zombie guts and escalators smelling like urine.

Chatelet-Les Halles is the worlds largest train station, even after my ten month stay here I still am getting lost.

The trains, themselves, are a breeding ground for an epidemic, so if you are a germophobe just... Stay at home.

Paris is beautiful, but I will not miss having to watch my step so I don't walk on dog poo or step in a puddle of urine. 

I will miss Sacre Cœur, but not the sketchyness of it all. It was my favourite area in Paris. Very old and artistic, lots of character. However, scarier than the red light district in Amsterdam.

Goodbye Paris.