I really don't know what to do with myself. I woke up super late again. I would love to go out today because a) I need food and b) I need to by a gift for my French sister's birthday. Speaking of food, I really am punching myself in the face for buying a bunch of crap yesterday at the grocery store. Who does that? I guess eating junk is comforting when you're an American girl in France, but I need to buy more substantial food. I really want to buy some brie but I'm not sure if I'm allowed to use the refrigerator. My family is super chill, but I just want to be sure.
I used my French hair straightener this morning. The temperature is in celsius, which is a little baffling, but it's pink so it's okay. Also, it cost an arm and a leg. I feel like that's a fair trade since I'm considering cutting off my limbs later. They hurt so bad. It's difficult to walk to the bathroom, let alone the thirty minutes into town, mais je ne sais pas.
Another thing: the French are so adorable. If you say you're from the southern United States they all think you're from Florida. Non, non, la Floride est très sud! Madame brought out an atlas of the U.S. last night and was asking where I lived. Earlier, my father asked what the capital of North Carolina was. I told him Raleigh and when he saw it written on the map he said, "Ohhhh! Ralèg!" hahaha their pronunciation is so different.
On another note, last night was the first night since I've been here that I haven't cried. It's kind of embarrassing to admit this on a public forum, but it's true. I become very homesick late at night when I want to sleep and I know my friends in America are still awake. However, last night was okay. I stayed up until 2 AM but fell asleep easily enough. I'm starting to become better friends with the American girls here and it's a relief because I hate the typical ca va? tu es de? conversations upon first meeting people. That was one thing I hated about coming to college as well. Can't we skip the light chats and move on to the more meaningful conversations where people really connect?
I hear people downstairs; maybe it's François, the 15-year-old pastry chef. I'm not sure if it's appropriate to go down there in my boyfriend's shorts and a t-shirt.