Time's Running Out for Me

As April looms into view, I've been keeping a close watch on the two dates that only mean death and doom for me.

April 6th: My 24th Birthday.

This will be the day when I will officially kiss my early 20s good-bye and I still have yet to be blind drunk enough to go out for a midnight kebab run. This is surely an issue that my Teaching Assistant friends will be glad to help rectify.

In one year after this day, I will have lived a quarter of a century. I probably still won't have a stable job and thus further convince the people closest to me that my English Literature degree was a waste of time and money. Shocking, isn't it?

April 15th: THE LAST DAY to file any "stay longer in France" paperwork with the Préfecture.

This is the day that keeps me up at night with worry. This is the day that breathes down my neck, taunting me with the idea that my time in Dijon taking walks around Lac Kir will quickly come to an end. This is THE DAY that tells me my life of cheese eating and wine drinking will soon be over.

I've lost nearly all hope in finding a job over here and I can't express how sad this makes me. If, by some miracle, I do end up with a dream-job in France, I will be eternally grateful to the heavens above. I have not imagined my future and my life outside of this country.

Maybe I should go back to being a mail-order bride? At this point, marriage seems to be the only immediate solution to keep me longer over here. The only positive thing that I can say about this is the fact that I am at least not madly in love with a handsome Frenchman. The heartbreak of leaving someone behind would only make the situation even sentimentally worse.

Yet...I remain hopeful. Thanks to Spring and sunshine, I've been genuinely happier. As a Miamian, I miss out on the wonder of seeing trees renew with emerald leaves and flowers burst into view.

Yes. Life isn't so bad after all.

Barb the French Bean

From a Cubicle Desk: The Words of Wisdom

Studying in a university library is quite tedious, especially when it feels like time has stopped. To make things worse, sitting in a cubicle desk makes the whole day seem gray.

As always, I went to the library to get some studying done and thought that the only way I would be able to concentrate was if I sat at a cubicle desk...

What a mistake.

Once I sat down, I started to doze off, but knowing very well that I couldn't, I started to read the writings on the cubicle walls. The words of wisdom.

Word of Wisdom #1: ZTA sluts <---True.
ZTA is a sorority on my campus, I don't know much about them, but the wall says it all. The ZTA's are a bunch of sluts. Now, I'm not saying they are since I don't personally know it, but why in the world would someone write this? Pure anger? Jealousy? or maybe someone with a deep thought? Perhaps, in the writers own way, they were trying to find a deep understanding of the ZTA's and in truth came to conclude that they are a bunch of sluts. Thus, bringing another person to agree with them.




Word of Wisdom #2: Your You're in college don't be ignorant!!!
It is funny to see how students like to point out the ignorance of other students, but wait! What is this? The writer cannot spell? *Gasp* now that is very uneducated. I know we all tend to make our mistakes when writing (trust me I make them all the time), but if you are going to call someone ignorant the very least you can do is write it well.




Word of Wisdom #3: Where has time gone?
The first image that came into my head when I first read this, was of a 70 year old man, who wasted his youthful life away at the library. This question, however, did bring me to ponder as to where has time gone? I have never really given much thought as to where my life was headed or how the months keep passing me by. This one simple question made me question everything from the time of my break-up to the time where I thought that being thin was a must. I started to think about how ridiculous I was and how ridiculous the emotions I had for my ex were, and truly I must say I am now a believer of the phrase: Time heals everything.

So what did I learn from all three words of wisdom? #1 the person is an idiot with nothing better to do than to attack people. #2 If you are going to attack someone, please check your spelling. #3 If you don't live life fully time will fly and you will be asking yourself a whole bunch of damn questions, but in a positive light you come to realize that time does heal everything.

Hanny the coffee bean

A Million Drafts, One Post

Everyday I get on blogger to check the progress of Two Beans or Not Two Beans, and to make new posts. However, it has come to my attention that I have about 10 drafts waiting for me to finish them, but I never get around to them. Most are interesting topics, but as the months pass these topics become old news.

The Evil Drafts...

Can I help it if I have so many ideas running through my head? so many mishaps in my everyday life? No, I cannot, but I should do something about those damned drafts before they start taking over the published posts.
If my habits of starting a post and never finishing them continue, soon Two Beans or Not Two Beans will have a million drafts, and one post by me every 3 years! Of course French Bean will have posts up, but there is so much one person can do.

The drafts haunt me, the very word 'draft' tortures my amateur writing skills. It is as if the 'draft' were saying to me "You can never finish me! You imbecile unknowable little buffoon. Mwahahahaha."

It is like a plague of drafts, the more I write the more drafts I see! Can anyone save me? Is there any hope? Will I actually reach a million drafts and only have one post every 3 years?

I think this is a to be continued post...

If I get around to continuing.

-Hanny the Coffee Bean

Speculoos + Bastogne Cookies = My Diet is Ruined

Today, I finally caved in to the inevitable. I bought myself my very first jar of Speculoos pâte à tartiner.

Speculoos spread based on Speculoos cookies, a yummy cinnamon-y treat that goes well with espresso coffees and teas. The paste, though, is on a whole other plane from its delicious crunchy cousin.

My friends, Speculoos pâte à tartiner is the equivalent of nicotine for your tastebuds. I had just one teaspoon of the stuff and that was enough to have me salivating for days. My very thoughts were consumed by the call of the Speculoos desire until I cracked and bought some for myself.

I also took the chance and purchased some Bastogne cookies. These are the French equivalent of the Belgian/Dutch treat. It only seemed natural to put Speculoos spread on Bastogne cookies. Mixing a crunchy, crumbly texture with a divine lighter-than-air cinnamon cream...it's enough to drive my Shakira-hotness diet against a wall.

These two make a very, very dangerous combination...

I dipped the spoon into the seemingly docile jar. I scooped out a minor dollop that seemed nearly negligible. With a swift, dexterous movement, the cookie and cream became one. I sink my front teeth into biscuit.



This is my Speculoos face, the physical manifestation of ecstasy and nirvana on my being. My foie gras face happens to be the same.

One cookie just wasn't enough. I needed to have just one more...

It is just so good. I see no need for a spoon. What is that good for, anyway? I can just use my index finger to scoop it out...

With each bite, I am further rendered into a hazy state of culinary addiction and I succumb to releasing all sense of reason and feeling...

And then I am gone.

Speculoos. This alone is enough of a reason as to why I should remain in France for the rest of my days.

For another Speculoos-addict with an amazingly hysterical blog, go check out Invader Stu at Invading Holland. He confesses of his addiction here and recounts how he almost had an intervention from caring friends here.

(By the way, his blog just recently turned five years old, so go congratulate him! )

Barb the French Bean

Finding Love in France? Probably Not.

For a francophile and begrudgingly hopeless romantic like me, what could be more romantic than going out to a café while a gallant Frenchman whispers sweet nothings into my ear in that most romantic of all languages? Or, even better, hearing that charming French lisp gracefully expel seductive lines in my native tongue?

Ah, wait. I teach English in France. Halting and repeatedly correcting French high schoolers from phonetically butchering my native tongue has rendered me immune to any "cuteness" and "turn on" qualities that would have swept me off my feet. A miniscule part of my soul dies every time a necessary aspirated H is left unsaid.

Nevertheless, a Frenchman speaks French and that should be enough of a selling point to attract me automatically, right?

Um, right?

*crickets chirp*

Well, French-speaking or not, my hypothetical future mate needs to at least have some courtesy and know how to treat a lady right.

I was seeing a guy on and off again for the past month. We had been chatting online and our real-life meetings would determine whether or not we would officially start dating. First time I saw him, I did not feel a spark. It was just a gut feeling: nothing was there.

He seems like a nice guy. Maybe something is wrong with me, I thought. I should at least give him a chance...

I could not help but notice that every time I met him after that, I did not feel any genuine excitement stir in my being. We went to the movies. We went out for walks. We had great discussions about our lives, our interests, our life goals. He wants to be a policeman someday. He loves to eat McDonald's after he runs marathons. He has a sister who lives in Lyon. He asked me if I liked him or juste comme ça, just as a friend.

"Juste comme ça," I said. "I don't feel much for you. Besides, I may or may not leave the country in a few months' time. I don't want to risk getting attached to you." That was my excuse, anyway.

Still, he insisted that I should give him a chance because he really, really likes me. I agreed to seeing him again. I mean, why not? He seems like a nice guy. He seems polite enough. Sure, he doesn't open the door for me, but I can't expect too much chivalry from today's generation, now can I? I'll take what I can get...perhaps he'll even grow on me and I'll learn to love him.

Yet deep down inside, something fought me.

He's not the guy for you, stupid. You deserve better than this. You don't even vaguely like him. You need to give yourself some self-worth and you shouldn't be afraid to just say "no" to someone. You need to find your own damn voice and admit you don't like him.

These thoughts eventually manifested themselves into emotions. When he would send me a text message, rather than squealing like a 13-year-old who had just won tickets to see a Justin Bieber concert with backstage passes, I would roll my eyes and internally mutter "oh, what do you want NOW?"



God, your writing is so annoying. Don't you know how to spell properly in your own damn language? You make it so hard for me to suppress my contempt for you. Then, I would feel shame because he really has done nothing wrong to me.

He asked me again. "Have your feelings changed for me?" Oh, they have in a way; now I am more than certain that I really, really don't like you much. I didn't say that, though. I'm way too scared of hurting someone's feelings.

"I only really see you as a friend." Still, he insisted that I give "us" a chance. Maybe, just maybe, if I do go back to Miami, he will have the strength to wait for me.

Like a swimmer going against a rip current, I agreed to go against my sentiments and give "us" a chance.

He would invite me to dinner, he said. He would meet me up at 7, he said.

He was 35 minutes late. He apologized but didn't seem sorry about it. That just fueled the kindling of my dislike for him. You idiot, I thought. Oh, well. We would soon have a nice dinner together. This would, in my mind, officially determine whether or not "us" would exist.

The check came. He looked at it. He showed it to me. He laughed and said "Thanks, Barbara!"

W...T...F? Who does that? Is this a joke? Are you just trying to make me feel like a guilty, fat pig because you now have to pay for the meal?

"Um, do you need help in paying the bill?"

"Yes, I would not mind that. Thanks for that!"

And thanks for finally showing me a concrete reason as to why I should not be with you. I had taken out some money prior to meeting up with you just in case you pulled a stunt like this. I was hoping you wouldn't have, but now I'm glad that I paid for my half of the meal. At least that was my excuse to never see you again. Sadly enough, I feel relief.

I should follow the advice I learned during my D.A.R.E. program years and just learn how to say "no." No, I don't like you. No, I'm not interested in you. No, I don't feel anything for you.

I've been able to do it before in the past. I was shopping in a supermarket when a guy suddenly had an outright burst of admiration for me:

Makes me wonder if he had even looked at my left hand to confirm this. I was able to lie about my marital status. Why was it so hard for me to just say "I'm not interested?"

Who knows if love may or may not be just around the corner? The more I walk down the streets, the more I seem to get glances from the guys over here. Maybe I'll have to say "no" to them as well.

On another note, I think I spotted my Octogenarian Creepy Codger this past week. Thankfully, I was riding away on a bus and he didn't see me.

I guess Love isn't meant to be sought. I should just let it come whenever it deems itself appropriate for me. You just can't force fate...

Barb the French Bean

Adventure Here I Come: Bahamas Fail Edition

Previously in my vacation post, I had mentioned that I was going to the Bahamas. Well with my luck, hence the reason of this post, that trip was canceled.

Yes...CANCELED!

The reason for the cancellation of a very well deserved trip, is due to the fact that my friend had an expired passport, which she was not aware of until the day of my birthday.

Out of all the things that could have happened and yet I get the misfortune of something like this happening. Of course, I kept positive and did my research as to what I could possibly do, but seeing as the tickets were non-refundable and non-transferable gave me little options...

Not only did I end up seeing my ex-boyfriend twice, but on top of everything my getaway from Miami, the evil guy friend who broke my heart, stress, and drama was ruined. All that stressing over the tickets and the best place to go, just so that my friend would tell me that her passport expired.

Since it was non-transferable and non-refundable, I decided it would be best to move the date of the flight three months later, so that my friend can get her passport renewed. Of course, there was a matter of paying extra fees and such, which if you think about it we should have just gone to the key west...

The way I handled my matters, however, did not go well with my mother. See, my mother deals with companies such as priceline and all those airplane travel agencies...So when she heard about my little problem, she gave me a lecture on responsibility.

So I didn't end up in the Bahamas, instead I ended up going to the one place I was avoiding...M.I.A.M.I.

I could have easily stayed in Orlando, but the very thought of staying alone in my ghetto apartment sent chills down my spine. Ghetto= People breaking in, stealing, being idiotic (not the best place to live in).

Before I went to Miami, I did get to spend a whole day with my guys. My guys= the guys I spend most of my time with, the people I am most comfortable with, and the people who actually get my craziness and sense of adventure. I must say my guys really know how to entertain a girl, especially with all the craziness we do. Of course, it was more of a relaxing day than anything. Playing rockband, playing pool, getting tipsy to the point where you start talking about turtles (all me of course), flirting around (I can't help it), eating junk food, and watching horror movies. Four guys and me...yeah you know I LOVE the attention. It was a great night, especially since I was headed to Miami...the next day.

Well I have been stuck in Miami for almost the entire week...I didn't think I would survive this far, but I have to admit I did have somewhat of an adventure.

Eventually, I will explain my Miami trip more in detail, but for now I have to get off this reserved computer...the library is about to close...

Hanny the coffee bean