So, it's been a week since my French-ness ceremony, and it was a week filled with lots of tasks and challenges. Which is why I haven't had the mental energy to blog, though I sat down once or twice to try and come up with a decent post. The best I can do at the moment is give you the snippets of my life from the past week. Which feels pretty much the same as it was BEFORE the French-ness ceremony, when you get right down to it. I made the appointment for next Tuesday to go and apply for my French passport and the Carte Nationale d'Identité. The former costs 86€ and the latter is free. Tomorrow I'm going to chase down the timbres fiscales for 86€ since you can't go to any of these government agencies and pay in cash, check or bank/credit card. They only accept these fiscal stamps that prove you have paid but at a centralized location. Guess they don't want to bother the other fonctionnaires with handling payments. It's a good system -- for THEM. For the rest of us it means having to find a place that sells the damn stamps. Allegedly some...
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It's common knowledge around here that I often have trouble sleeping, right? My sleeplessness has multiple causes and on any given night it might be triggered by any or all of the following: joint or back pain, an over-active brain that just won't quiet down, being able to go to sleep but waking up at 3am and then not getting back to sleep, over-active bladder (yeah, I'm at that stage in life, I guess), or someone (who shall remain nameless because I love him) snoring next to me and my ear plugs not working well enough. Or sometimes there is NO good reason, I just can't sleep. My doctor, when consulted about the insomnia (and I don't want to take sleeping pills) advised that I should get up and walk around the house for a while if this happens, or read a book, but not to watch TV or get on the computer because that makes the mind too active. The problem with this advice, which I do follow if I can, is when any of the kids are sleeping here, because we have a very small apartment with those lovely old wood floors -- which creak VERY loudly at...
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If I ever happen to misplace my step-son in our apartment (not that this is likely in only 60 square meters)... ... I can just follow the trail that leads across the living room... ... in the general direction of his room... ... and there the trail ends. And no, I don't know why there are THREE socks. Not TWO. Not FOUR. THREE. ::eye roll and heavy sigh::
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It's been a bit of a slow blogging week, mainly because I've been more occupied with my step-son than usual. Le Garçon was on the second week of his annual 2-week winter school break (there's another 2-week break coming up end of April, for spring -- yeah, I know, lots of school holidays here in La Belle France). And as we didn't have anything special planned due to Georges needing to be at work all week, and all his buddies being out of town on THEIR school breaks, Le Garçon and I ended up spending all day, every day together. Fortunately for both of us, we like each other and also he's at an age where he is often quite good company now. The first big thing we did together was launch our special blog project -- THAT was a pretty big deal since we've been planning it for something like six weeks. The timing was finally right this week to get the first installment out there, and now we're working on putting together a regular weekly post. Even on the weeks when he's not here chez Nous, we will have planned a post in advance. It means thinking ahead,...
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Overheard the other morning, before getting up to face the day: Her (in English): "I love you." Him (also in English): "I love you, asshole." [A pause as she lets this sink in a moment. Because THAT can't be right. Can it?] Her (sounding a bit shrill this time): "Um... WHAT did you just say to me?" Him (speaking a bit more distinctly): "I said: I love you also". Her: "OHHH ... because I thought you said ASSHOLE. I love you ASSHOLE." Him, sighing : "My stupid accent." Does anyone have any statistics on how often the language barrier in multi-cultural couples results in misunderstandings that lead to divorce? Because I suddenly realize how easily that could happen. I think we can safely cross that one off our list of pet names.
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