Vacation Time? Yes?

Well this week has been a stressful week due to many circumstances, but the main one must be planning for my spring break.

Yes. Spring break = stress.

I have been trying to plan the best spring break of my life, especially since last year was such a crappy spring break. So to make this year a better year for me, I decided I wanted to go somewhere. Anywhere that gets me out of Florida.

Being a student, however, makes my life so much more complicating. Struggling with loans, paying bills, trying to find a decent job, trying to budget life itself...this is life as I know it. So to find something within my budget out of Florida is impossible. IMPOSSIBLE.

Especially on Spring break.

I kept looking through all possibilities, typing in "Cheap cruises" on Google search, but that didn't even help. For a few weeks I kept trying to find the cheapest things to do on Spring break, one suggestion was to go to Miami (my hometown). As I have mentioned before in past posts, I loathe Miami.

As perfect as Miami is for Spring break, I have done everything there is to do in Miami. Besides I loathe how rude the people can be, and there are other factors that would ruin my Spring break. Did I mention that one of those factors was my ex-boyfriend completely ruining last Spring break for me?

Last year, I was in Miami...waiting. I was waiting for my ex-boyfriend to invite me to hang out with him; he never did. He had come to terms that he would use Spring break as our "break" from each other, and as I waited like a damn door mat, he was out having the time of his life.

This is how that need to get out of Florida developed. I was not going to be the same damn door mat waiting for someone to say "hey, lets do something."

As I have learned through experiences, if you want something, you have to do it yourself. So this time I prepared myself. I kept looking through cruises, hotels, flights etc...I even went as far as looking through bus services to New York. Imagine a bus ride for at least 16 hours...

Yeah, it wouldn't have been pretty at all...

I thought I would never find something, but then out of nowhere, as if in a dream, I found a vacation package within my budget! Not only that, it was within my friends budget too, which made everything perfect.

What better way to rest from studying and exams than a trip to the Bahamas!

That's right! I am going to the Bahamas!! for 5 days/4 nights. Airfare and hotel. I finally made the reservation and now I can finally relax.

Though It will not be for my whole Spring break (and I will have to go to Miami), I am just happy I found something outside of Florida.

I just need to do a few more things for my trip, but other than that I feel as if a weight has been lifted. I just hope I can find my passport.

Hanny the Coffee Bean

Uh-Oh...

I have a job interview on Monday. ZOMG.


I've just realized that I do not have interview-appropriate clothes that fit me. The clothes I used to wear are far too large and I do not want to look like a clown in my old trousers.

I am in France, and I can't find pants in my size.

I have only this week-end to find something, anything, that would make me look presentable and hireable. I need a classy tailleur that fits me. Pencil skirts are not body-compliant either.


HELP.

Barb the (panicking) French Bean

...And for some reason, my internet source is being detected as coming from near Paris! As far as I know, I'm still in Dijon, Bourgogne. :-P

Can I Disappear Now?

Well I made it past Valentines day, but there is one single day that kills me every year...


My Birthday.


Though my birthday is special, I do not appreciate the fact that I have to turn a year older. Especially, when it is not a leap year. For those who may not know, a leap year is when you see February. 29th, on the calender. It is that one day that makes 365 days become 366 days every four years.

Yes, my exact birthday comes every four years.


So in actuality I would only be five years old (if I counted just the leap year days). The last time I celebrated a leap year was when I was 20 years old and during the times that there is no Feb. 29th, I end up celebrating it on March 1st (even if some do celebrate it Feb. 28th).

At first, I thought it was amazing that i would get to celebrate it for a whole week (everyone gets so confused around that time, that I would end up with presents for a week). Now I just wish to disappear for that day, especially since I do not want to turn another year older.

Even so, day or no day I would still turn a year older and though that is unavoidable, I still would like to disappear. My reason for this is because Facebook does not like my birthday.

A month ago I had a chat about my birthday with a few friends and this was enough proof that Facebook does not like my birthday...



How does February 29th, turn into December 31st?? and I didn't get any Happy Birthday wishes, which is bizarre...

The very fact that I might not see birthday wishes on my fb wall taunts me...Year round I see everyone getting hundreds of birthday wishes and I? well I get 5 people who actually remember without FB telling them (I am very thankful, btw!), but the thought of going around without anyone knowing my special day...well it is daunting.

My last birthday, I only got about 8 friends posting on my wall or texting me (again I am very thankful!), but from all 200 friends I have on fb...and I only get 8 is kind of sad...then again it shows who my real friends are. On top of that, my ex-boyfriend ruined my birthday by making me cry on the day of my birthday. Luckily, it wasn't Feb. 29th, I would have killed him. I do, however, appreciate the fact that my roommates remembered and bought me my favorite...Frozen yogurt!! followed by balloons.

This year I do not know what to expect. All I know is that I would like to disappear for that one day or at least go to Vegas.

Eventually, when the day comes, I'll blog about it and when I do I hope it has to do with Vegas.

On another note, I would like to give a special thanks to my partner in crime, Barb. She has remembered each birthday since the age of 16!! So she has actually gotten to experience 2 of my leap year birthdays. Now that has got me feeling old, but I am very thankful for such great friends, such as Barb. So go show her some love!

Hanny the coffee bean

This Is What I Do When I Am Bored

I tend to waste many, many hours of my precious life browsing the internet, but even that becomes tedious. The appeal of sitting in front of a lifeless computer screen eventually gets to me and I find myself searching for other means of passing the time.

If I do not make the crucial decision to actually change out of my pajamas and head out into the world, I will often limit my day to just taking photographs.

I captured this image while goofing off in front of the computer, ironically enough.

I am mesmerized with the fact that the staring wide-eyed girl with unkempt hair is actually me.

More often than not, I gaze upon my reflection in agony and scrutinize all of the imperfections that haunt my being. I do not have a flat stomach. My thighs have difficulty entering into most French trousers. I dislike my flabby upper arms and strategically hide them from sight with sleeves and cardigans.

The other day, I had an acquaintance ask me, with some surprise, "How is it possible that a very pretty girl such as yourself be single?"

All I could do was smile, shrug and say "I don't know."

But in my mind, I was very quick to criticize my body and place all the blame on it for being the reason as to why I am still single.

Yet I look back on my picture. For once, I regard my face and think that I actually do look nice. Dare I believe that I really am a pretty girl? I have to remember that the outer appearance is not all there is to me.

I am witty (if not a little sarcastic). I am caring. I love to read books. I love to take long walks in the park. I love going out for coffee with friends. I take pleasure in eating warm French bread with some butter on it. I love talking to others in a one-on-one scenario. I am quick to offer a sympathetic ear to a friend who needs one.

I love seeing rogue drops of rain glisten upon their leaf cradles after they have impishly fallen from the heavens. I love the miraculous imprint of a vanishing sunset.

When will I meet the man who can appreciate those aspects about me and will be more vividly alert to grasp all of the positive characteristics that I woefully neglect when blinded by my faults?

It certainly won't happen today. I am sure of that.

But it will happen. Someday. I just have to be patient and continue to grow and not be so self-critical.

So, the goldilocked flying diaper-boy can just stick his arrows up his behind. I'm off to work and I am facing a bus strike today. I've got other cats to whip, erm, bigger fish to fry!

Barb the French Bean

Dear Loveless Bean

Cupid's response to my letter
_____________________________

Dear Loveless Bean,

Congratulations! Your lack of intelligence and vocabulary became a great hit at my house gathering yesterday. I will not apologize for your loveless life, but rather for even interfering in it. Are you not aware of how many arrows I have shot for you? I want to say I shot at least 100 arrows, but alas, my arrows are not as powerful to cover the charm that you unfortunately have not been blessed with. My arrows can cause both men and women to fall blindly in love with the first person they see. Unfortunately, as many a times I hit your crush with my arrows, he still has no desire for you.

The men that I have shot and have fallen for you was absolutely a miracle, so rather than being an unappreciative little shit face, you should be thankful. Besides how would you know if the men interested are not for you? Is it because you are not getting the men you want? Well listen carefully, my sweet little fuck face, life is not fair deal with it. Sometimes in life we have to make sacrifices, so deal with the men that do want the pleasure of your company. At least that is what everyone getting married or in a relationship do.

Sweet ignorant bean, I the god of love do not need to attend a "fairy" school. I am not the one lacking in knowledge, but you should know that by now. After all you accuse me of something I cannot control, like Walmart, Target, Walgreens and the whole world celebrating the day of love. It is not I who makes the walls ooze in pink or make heart shaped chocolates, you imbecile.

Have you ever thought that those "maniac" girls might actually be serial killers trying to kill poor innocent men? or maybe they might just be horny... Your stupidity really overcrowds your head, especially when you think you could ever get away with killing me off.

Let me remind you of something...number 1: I am the god of love, I have the power to bestow love on others, therefore if you are not satisfied then screw you, number 2: You will not write another hate letter to me because I will use my bow to strangle you, number 3: You have once again showed your stupidity by assuming that I wear a "diaper." If you know anything about mythology, you would know I need not cover my beauty with clothes of any sort, number 4: With number 3 being said, you cannot give me any sort of wedgie, thus you fail once again, loveless bean.



Thus said...

I will not hold this against you, but do not expect a date for valentines day.


with all my love,

Cupid


_____________________________________________________

FML.

-Hanny the coffee bean

Monsoon Showers and the WTF Toilets (AKA Some More French Bathroom Humor)

(For the first bathroom-related post, click the link here.)

Allow me to start of this post with an obvious declaration of how French bathrooms are to the unsuspecting American:

They are weird.

No, seriously. French bathrooms are just weird.

I have been to quite a number of houses in which the bathroom in question will have the toilet built apart from the bathroom itself. In one room, you may have the sink, either a shower or a bathtub with detachable showerhead (more on that later) and, in a state of rarity, the notorious toilet-like bidet. Then, the actual contraption that flushes out natural impurities will be isolated in its own little room.

After having lived in France for a year, the shock of using separate facilities won't even make me bat an eye, but in the very beginning, I could not help but wonder what a strange country I had found myself in.

Seriously, who thought this up? I suppose that if you are living with other people, having the toilet apart from the shower and sink is a rather logical thing, especially in those crucial moments when one person desperately needs to go and simply can't because another person has locked himself to take a bath and thus resorts to doing the universal "I-gotta-pee" jig.

Yet I associate toilets with privacy. Bathrooms are private places. It is only logical to group the toilet with the bidet.

Oh, wait.

Privacy? In France? Ha, ha! That silly notion goes down the drain! Ever heard of the expression "the walls have ears?" I sincerely think that it originated from the fact that French bathrooms have very, very thin walls that echo every bump, grunt, sigh, smack and groan that are emitted by whoever is in it.

Oh yes. French bathrooms, unlike the well-thought-out, discreet soundproof American ones, are in-your-face. Even to this day, I admit that I feel rather uncomfortable when I hear a questionable noise that passes through the walls to my ears. Do you know how self-conscious I feel when I think about other people who can hear everything that I do when I use French facilities?

Whatever. I'm in France. I should be more open to the fact that the French are not embarrassed by natural bowel movements.

But I can't help it! It's simply not in my American nature.

During one lesson with my French high schoolers, I showed the differences between some British English and American English words. I decided to make the activity a game. I wrote down each word, had the students guess which word pertained to which country and then had them figure out the French equivalent. I inevitably talked about "bathroom" vs. "loo."

Ha, ha. Well, you're wrong, pal.

I then explained how in American English, "bathroom" is euphemism for "toilet."

Let's see. I've covered isolated toilets and thin walls. Now, about those detachable showerheads: how do you expect little ol' clumsy me to deftly maneuver my body in a 2x2 space as I clutch a spouting Niagara Falls in one hand and cup a wad of shampoo in the other? It simply can't be done. I can't take a shower without flooding the entire bathroom floor! I even had the habit of leaving a mop so I could soak up the water splattered all over the ground. I wish I were even kidding about this. I've gotten better with time at containing the water within the shower space. The lake that used to form has now shrunk to a puddle.

Despite all the oddities found in home bathrooms, I still am floored by the (rare) public toilets that one finds over here. I credit the topic of this post to the question an anonymous student asked my French BFF Mimi:

"What is the English for toilettes turques?"

Mimi couldn't give an answer, so she asked me. I couldn't give an answer because toilettes turques are simply non-existent in Miami. In fact, the very first time that I saw a toilettes turques was in 2008, in a small town in France.

I still remember that fateful day. Rather than being greeted by a white, porcelain throne, I unsuspectingly came face-to-face with what can be described as an ingenious invention: ceramic tiles decorating a hole in the ground. Since I hail from a First World country, my initial reaction to seeing such a starkly primitive device in an advanced nation was utter shock and dismay. How was I supposed to pee over this...this...THING? I remember that I my poor bladder was close to bursting and that I had no choice but to figure it out.

That intriguing moment had been safely stored in my recollections until Mimi brought up the question.

I honestly had no idea what the name for it in English is. I even tried to look it up and came across such obvious entries as "hole-in-the-ground toilet."

However, I prefer to christen the toilettes turques with a title they so clearly merit: a WTF toilet. When you see it, you ask "What the Fuck is this?!"

Our conversation about the lack of porcelain throne progressed.

"Do you know what the French for 'Outhouse' is?" Mimi asked. "Une cabane. Literally, a cabin. There is even a song written about this called La Cabane au Fond du Jardin, which means 'the cabin at the end of the garden.'"

What? There is a song written about this? At that point, I couldn't contain myself. I burst into laughter.

"Ah, that's what I love about the French language: it is just so damn poetic! Whereas in English, the word is quite plain: it is an out house. Why is it an outhouse? Because the toilet is at the exterior of the house!"

Mimi and I completely broke down into a fit of uncontrollable whoops.

Barb the French Bean