Le Canard Americain A Paris

Paris et San Francisco

2010-11-19T06:33:00.004+01:00

So lately my friends and I have been trying to come up with analogues to San Francisco and various cities (mainly New York). Then, idly, I thought: What parts of San Francisco can correspond to parts of Paris? Of course, every town is different, so one will never completely and perfectly overlap with another. But San Francisco is always being called the most "European" city in America ~~America meaning, of course, the most the U.S.; the residents of Buenos Aires, however, would probably argue with me over that claim~~ and often, indeed, "The Paris of the West." Does this hold up? Having spent time around both cities, there are parallels but each city is near and dear to my heart for different reasons. Still, here's some matches I tried to make. Also, do note that Paris and San Francisco are sister cities.

The analogues are listed by Parisian arrondissement (and neighbourhood/landmark, if necessary) and San Francisco neighbourhood/landmark (or other Bay Area communities as needed)

This is definitely a work in progress.

1e - Downtown
- Chatelet - 5th and Market (SF Shopping Centre/Westfield, Powell Station, Cable Car Turnaround)

2e - Geary Street + Civic Center
- Pyramides - Japantown
- Opera - Theatre District + Civic Center
- Palais Garnier - War Memorial Opera House

3e -

4e - The Mission/Castro, but with a little bit of the Civic Center
- Le Marais (Jewish part): Mission
- Le Marais (Gay part): Castro
- Notre Dame - Mission Dolores
- Hotel de Ville - City Hall

5e - Berkeley (not in SF, yes, but much more suited to St. Germain/the Latin Quarter than Anza Vista/USF)
- Sorbonne - UC Berkeley

6e -

7e (I went to school here!) -
- Eiffel Tower - Golden Gate Bridge
- Champ de Mars - Alamo Square (which is nowhere near the Golden Gate, but they are analogous for the postcard-pic factor)

8e - Downtown
- Boulevard des Champs-Elysees - Market Street

9e -

10e -

11e - Bernal Heights
- Oberkampf - Hipster Mission, bordering Bernal Heights

12e - Hayes Valley
- Opera Bastille - Davies Symphony Hall

13e - Chinatown/the Sunset
- Les Olympiades - the Sunset (except Les Olympiades rises up where the Sunset spreads out)

14e - Haight-Ashbury
- Montparnasse - Haight-Ashbury

15e - Dogpatch/Potrero/SoMa
- Javel - industrial parts of SF (Dogpatch, Potrero, SoMa)

16e (I lived here!!) - Pacific Heights/Nob Hill
- Auteuil (more densely populated with homes) - Nob Hill
- Passy (mansions) - Pacific Heights
- Bois de Boulogne - Golden Gate Park (even if Pac Heights is nowhere near GGP)

17e - Seacliff (quieter and lesser-known than the 16th but still rich)

18e - North Beach + Fisherman's Wharf + the Tenderloin
- Montmartre - North Beach-Fisherman's Wharf
- Pigalle - the Tenderloin + 6th st (red light district)
- Goutte D'Or - the Tenderloin (large concentration of working-class immigrants)
- Boulevard de Clichy - Broadway (through North Beach, i.e. the part with the strip clubs)

19e

20e - Colma (what? SF has no cemeteries within city limits lol)

Neuilly-sur-Seine - Marin
La Defense - Financial District
Seine-Saint-Denis - Bayview/Hunters Point

She was an American girl

2010-04-26T23:57:00.001+02:00

Today is the eighteenth anniversary of my arrival in the United States. If my American experience were a person, she'd be a full adult today! :D And indeed, I'm finally beginning to feel like an American adult. I'm stuck here now, I've got a job (again - the Census Bureau called me up for the second phase on Saturday), and I can do all the things most adult Americans do (except run for president).

America has been good to me, even though there are some horrible things about it: the job market, the war, the imperialistic past ~~and present~~, racism, how the entire world hates on you when you're overseas... Still, it's offered a home and a good life for my mother and me ~~even though she never even wanted to go to America before the divorce~~, a decent education (yay for graduating before Cal Grants were cut!) and a passport that will take you almost anywhere in the world without the rest of that bureaucratic red tape (example: going to Japan as a Filipino, even for like a day, results in reams of paperwork; this might have more to do with illegal immigration and Japanese xenophobia more than anything, though). Oh, and as said before, I have a government job again (but only for a few weeks). Whatever gets me through the month, I guess.

I honestly liked growing up American - before September 11 and the war ~~and the entire Bush administration~~ I was proud, happy and grateful for the chance to have come here. I still am happy and grateful to have reached America, but the war (and just growing up in general) has made me a little cynical about this country. The stereotype of America as the fat, blond, hostile, arrogant cowboy ~~the cute chibi from Hetalia notwithstanding~~ sort of makes me hate being from America, but compared to the average Philippine experience I can hardly complain. I guess it's up to me to prove the stereotypes wrong - whether conversing with foreigners or fellow residents - and show what a real American woman is ~~nervy, brunette, only slightly overweight, gracious and polite, belligerent only when directly provoked and/or cut off on the freeway~~

Two days left until I go back to reality

2010-01-16T15:32:00.001+01:00

I guess I was always a bit of an outsider, wherever I was... but now I feel comfortable that way. You might not realize it, but everyone feels like an outsider on some level, especially when you're growing up." - Utada Hikaru

Was reading an interview with Utada on aramatheydidnt and these words just spoke to me, because I was always the outsider myself. Too Filipino for my American friends, too American for my Filipino family, too different from my Filipino-American friends... unfortunately, although I understand and feel Utada's words, my Daly City upbringing wasn't as exciting as her Tokyo-New York childhood.

I especially felt that awkwardness during this vacation, with Adriaan as an added external factor - as the mediator between him and my family (my world, more like) I felt a lot more Filipino than I used to, especially as I had to explain everything about the Philippines to him (not that the one-month vacation was enough). I also used my native dialect more, and even began to ease back into Tagalog. But after he'd left, it was so much more apparent to me how awkward and in-between I am, pinging between cultures, vacillating between jet-setting and provincial, and speaking this bastardised jumble of Tagalog, Kapampangan and English with bits of French, Spanish, and Italian (and Japanese mixed in for my Arashi-obsessed nieces).

But you know what? I like being this mixed up. Sometimes I wish I was more mixed up, actually - I would love to have had a crazy, globetrotting existence (well, more than I already do now). And considering the history of the Philippines itself, I think the Filipino people fit this extremely international/multicultural life better than anyone else in the world. (Just ask the Filipino janitors in Antarctica.)

Just something for me to ponder as I leave one home for another... and shiver in anticipation for the Utada concert next week!!!!

A Holiday Message from Duckie

2009-12-24T17:01:00.002+01:00

It's midnight in the Philippines! Church bells are ringing all over the Islands (and all over our part of Asia) as we welcome the anniversary of Christ's birth.

Am listening to Josh Groban's "O Holy Night" (my favourite version) as my cousin Mayeth is doing my hair - I'm slated to sing La Cantique de Noel (aka O Holy Night) in about four and a half hours... and I'm getting over a cold. Wish me luck.

Hong Kong is the place to be

2009-12-13T19:41:00.000+01:00

I've been in Hong Kong for the past few days, and I'm leaving in about twelve hours. I'm writing this from the hotel lobby's computer terminal (it's about 2:32 AM lol) and I just had to say that I'm kind of sad to go. Adriaan (who was partly raised here) was right; you can live here your entire life and never run out of things to do. This is so far the only city that has tired me out this much (four nights out of five I fell asleep before midnight, and I'm a night owl) and I enjoyed almost every minute of it (even though I got a bit snappish when my feet hurt/I got dehydrated from walking around so much). Oh, and we also went to Macau (the Venetian and the part of town around St. Paul's) - I can cross those off my "Hana Yori Dango/Boys Over Flowers" location list XDDDDDD

I really don't know why I'm still awake, especially as I've been so tired at night these past few days, but I just felt like checking in haha.

Hong Kong!!!

2009-12-09T12:15:00.002+01:00

After one lovely flight (Adriaan and I got one row away from business class because we were so early and he is so tall) I am now in Hong Kong. The ride to HK Station from the airport was beautiful, and the airport has been voted Best Airport several times since it opened. I'm in quite a nice area - right on the edge of nightlife and shopping. Adriaan and I have already checked out Wan Chai, which is the part of the nightlife area on the Island, and will soon be going down to see the races at Happy Valley Racecourse, which is down the street from us. In fact, our (23rd story) room overlooks the course, as well as a lovely Catholic cemetery. Right now we are on the fifth floor of our hotel, which has a patio enclosed by a bamboo fence and rattan furniture. The air is balmy, and just right now that we've stopped walking :D I've been up all day, but HK just has so much energy - tonight, just on our block, the weekly races are on; traffic is bustling on Queen's Road East and Wong Nai through the tunnel; and across the street at Queen Elizabeth Stadium the East Asian Games are going on (I've been seeing a lot of athletes go in and out of our hotel, in addition to the normal swanky looking tourists) - so I don't want to crash just yet.

More to come as the vacation continues.

Stuck

2009-12-09T01:06:00.002+01:00

in the NAIA Centennial Terminal for four hours because my mom and Uncle Jun have to get out of Metro Manila before coding hours start (and today's our unlucky day). I love travel and I love sunrises and I love airports and I love that I'm going to Hong Kong and I love that I have free Wi-Fi AND a place to plug in but I HATE GETTING UP EARLY.

Homecoming

2009-12-07T06:08:00.002+01:00

I'm in the Philippines!!! I've been here since the third (left America on the first and landed at 3:30 AM Thursday). This is quite an interesting trip because I'm finally taking someone who's not related - my friend Adriaan from college (dude in the pic) is here with us for a month before he goes to Thailand for his TESOL certificate.

So far it's been pretty chill - we went to SM for two straight days, I relaxed at home a lot, and got to hang with family again. They're pretty amused by how game Adriaan is with everything - he isn't picky for the most part, so he's just been trying everything and seeing a lot of the sights (although we were a little freaked when he went walking without a cellphone for an hour lol). I'm still concerned about their true thoughts about him, though - everyone's been saying he's at the mercy of my grandmother and her razor-sharp wit XD and there's always the novelty of having a white guy around. Tongues must be wagging about me/him >_<

I got a new nephew and two new nieces/goddaughters, with another on the way, so I've just been playing with the kids. I feel soooo domestic lol. Carlos is so cheery (and heavy aaaargh) while Lian and Vikki are adorable, although the poor girls have got their share of health problems. As Vikki is Mayeth's daughter, I've been looking after her most. Yeth and I have a running joke that Vikki took after me (skin problems, can't live without aircon, always wanting to go out) because I'm her best friend LOL.

Also, this sounds totally dorky of me but I'm so excited to be in the Philippines for the last week of "Lovers in Paris" (although I'll be in Hong Kong the last three days...) XD

This week we'll be jetting off to Hong Kong for five days, so look out for more updates soon!

I want nobody, nobody but Ondoy

2009-10-21T09:01:00.001+02:00

Found this clip while randomly looking at the typhoon footage and it reminded me of when I was little. I lived on Piy Margall, a street that runs straight into UST, and this part of Manila floods easy. Our block had raised sidewalks... that the floods still reached the top of. I was four when I moved to America, so every flood looked epic to me when I lived in Sampaloc - my feet wouldn't even have reached the ground if I ever dared to wade through the water, wee little thing that I was. Now, I'm twenty-two, and know the scope of the (unprecedented) damage that this typhoon has caused - and it is truly epic.

But the best thing about this clip is at the end; now I know that it isn't proper to make light of the storm, but the ending is priceless. The water is waist-deep, the damage catastrophic, and the storm victims... begin singing "Nobody."

Gotta love the indomitable Filipino spirit.

This couldn't have come at a better time, because the song has been on infinite loop in my head for the entire month of October thus far.

A Paris, les amants s'aiment à leur facon.

2009-09-29T00:20:00.003+02:00

Just watched "Lovers in Paris" starring KC Concepcion (AUP '07, woot woot). Ordinarily I hate Filipino soap operas (too cheesy and melodramatic, or at least more so than is tolerable for my taste in Asian dramas) but of course this one interests me because of its setting- Paris! I haven't watched the Korean version, even though they showed it (dubbed) on TFC, but I think I might watch this one. My mother is always hooked on her telenovelas, but especially this one because it's (1) Paris and (2) Sharon Cuneta's daughter XD. Thus, she made me watch it and as cheesy as it is, I enjoyed it, especially observing the little quirks.

First, the movie little Vivian is watching is "Sabrina," starring Audrey Hepburn - one of my favourite actresses and one of my favourite films, especially in the "American in Paris" genre. (My favourite of the "American in Paris" films is, of course, "Funny Face," because of the fashion, the dancing, the singing and the protagonist, named Jo.) Next, watching KC playing a poor girl is mildly amusing (if you're into Asian dramas/manga, she is much more of the Shizuka Todo type: rich, beautiful, lives in Paris). Also, it's fun trying to figure out where they shot - of course the Eiffel Tower is a main focus, not only because it's probably the only thing most Filipinos can identify about Paris, but also because KC went to AUP... down the street from the Eiffel Tower :D The stock characters are way too obvious, but that's part of the fun. The subtitles are all right, even though they don't always match (I think it's for convenience's sake). Sadly, I tried avoiding the subtitles and my French listening comprehension has gone WAY down since I left T_T The awesome part, though, is that Vivian is a Manilena, born of a Kapampangan mother... just like me ^_______________^ My mom and I were laughing at the random Kapampangan interspersed between the Tagalog, English and French.

... Yeah, I think I just got sucked into a telenovela. But as my main extracurricular activity in Paris was acting, I'm happy to support a fellow performer; KC was also part of White Mask when she studied at AUP :)

BUT, ON A MORE SERIOUS NOTE: my birthplace, Manila, is underwater from the tropical storm. Please do what you can to help... the death toll is rising and apparently the physical damage is worse than Katrina. Considering the quality of life in the Philippines, this is much, much worse than Katrina; The people are much poorer and the city will probably take longer to recover.

A Salute to Jun Matsumoto

2009-08-30T23:57:00.001+02:00

This has nothing to do with traveling, but I've been sucked headfirst into the world of Japanese television for the past year and a half, and so I wanted to share that in a way that wouldn't be embarrassing (because I usually am about my fangirling). And just in time for the end of my favourite J-actor's birthday, I present thirteen of my favourite Matsujun moments. There were a lot, but I narrowed it down by a. which ones stuck out the most to me b. what represented him most and c. whether or not I could find the clips online XD

The Best of Jun Matsumoto (in no particular order)

1 Yabai Yabai Yabai

Matsujun's solo from "Time," Arashi's 2007 album. This solo marks the birth of the (in?)famous "MJ Walk," in which Jun, suspended by wires, walks upside down on a beam high above the stage in Tokyo Dome (after giving the illusion that he is walking on invisible stairs). Then he drops down a hundred feet, bounces back up and flies around for another minute and a half before touching down onstage and breaking into his song and dance, which includes another famous MJ Walk - namely, the moonwalk. Jun is often compared to Michael Jackson, either lovingly or mockingly, and this performance (among others, especially after Jackson's death) shows that he is definitely in on the joke.

2 Sirius

A song from "Dream A Live," Arashi's 2008 album. A sweet ballad, it is also probably Jun's best vocal performance. To those who say he can't sing, I rebut that he is capable of expelling air from his lungs and through his larynx in the form of tones and words (and thus he is technically able to "sing") and hold this as an example.

... but this is pretty much all I've got.

3 Jun meets Janet

Janet Jackson's appearance on Utawara, a show that Jun used to cohost. Being a huge fan of Michael Jackson, it would make sense that he's a huge fan of MJ's imouto. I love this because it shows that even Jun is capable of fangirling (and fangirl he does, especially after Miss Jackson tells him his eyes look like her nephew's). I'm a huge Jacksons fan so it's awesome that someone I fangirl over regularly has something in common with me.

Watch Matsujun meets Janet Jackson in Entertainment | View More Free Videos Online at Veoh.com

4 Don't make J angry

Throughout their career, Arashi has taken care of animals, senior citizens, the environment, and children (among other things). Jun is famous for being short-tempered... so what does an idol do when he's faced with annoying children and a camera in his face? He's got a reputation to uphold, you know.

Also, I will never not laugh when he gets hit by the ball. There's a longer version where he gets kicked in the face by a little girl, but I can't find it anymore.

5 Jun vs Jin

Jun has a very, very, very sharp tongue, and is one of the more formidable products of ~~the boyband factory~~ Johnny's. One of his favourite targets is his junior (and alleged drinking buddy), Jin "Bakanishi" Akanishi. These two always go head-to-head in popularity polls and it's fun to see Jun dig his perfectly manicured claws into poor Jin.

I'm Team Jun all the way, and I think he won all three rounds.

6 Jun's perfect body

A beautiful figure rising out of the sea; very "Birth of Venus" (or Baywatch, even if Jun's too scrawny to run with Hasselhoff and company). Jun really, really loves the sea - he apparently surfs - and it shows in his lean dancer/swimmer's body. He might be a bit too skinny for Western standards, but I covet his lanky figure. Also, Sho and Ohno choking on their own tongues trying to pronounce "perfect body" is hilarious.

7 Kaze no mukou e (Music Station)

Being Johnnys, Arashi are regular guests on the Japanese program "Music Station" (three guesses as to what the show's about). Their performances on this show are pre-taped, beautifully staged and professionally done (both on the part of Arashi and the show editors) but the boys can't help but have a little fun with the performance. The best part at 1:35-1:45 - pure Jun, given his diva reputation.

8 M no Arashi

A segment in "D no Arashi," one of Arashi's old shows, in which the goal is to get Jun to yell "mendokusai" ("bothersome"). Here, each member harrasses Jun at a concert by forcing him to do tasks. Nothing's particularly strenuous or embarrassing, but the point is to annoy the crap out of Jun because he's the baby of the group and they love him in a twisted way (especially Nino, that little brat).

9 Ideal bad boy

A guest on "Arashi no Shukudai-kun" is asked to provide her ideal guy, and she says "an irritated, wild, white-shirted guy"... which makes up about 80% of all the roles following the name "Jun Matsumoto" in a Japanese film or TV show. (Even when he's playing himself.) But for most J-pop-culture fans, it all boils down to one word: Domyouji.

10 Singing in different styles

Masaki Aiba, one of Jun's bandmates, has a knack for creating hilariously stupid and stupidly hilarious games (a lot of which actually resemble acting or voice exercises that I've done). Here, the object of the game is to sing a mundane Japanese phrase (anything from "I'm sorry" to the narration of a soccer game) in a given style. Jun sings the news operatically at 1:50-2:30, proving that he actually has decent power and pitch if he'd stop being so damned nasal in songs.

But then again, he is in a boyband.

11 A.Ra.Shi with blindfolds

Arashi's very first song, which they have performed for ten years under every circumstance from charity telethons to sold-out audiences at Tokyo's Olympic Stadium. They could do this blindfolded... and that is exactly what they do. I'm sure Jun knows it just as well if not better than the others, but his headphones kept playing the song even when everyone else's were delayed. Whether that was intentional or not, it caused him to stick out painfully (and hilariously).

Also, for you old school fans, the boys wore their infamous see-through plastic suits for this song at Kokuritsu. Because there's no better way to spend Matsujun's birthday than singing and dancing A.Ra.Shi in the same see-through plastic suits worn for the official debut. During a storm.

12 Storm on the Seven Seas of Rhye

Another vintage Arashi show, "G no Arashi," in which the boys take on all sorts of high jinks. Here, they create an "air band" - instead of jamming to just air guitar like most people, they add air keyboards, air drums, and a lipsyncing Freddie Mercury (the perennially funny Satoshi Ohno) and proceed to perform - costumes, lights and all - in front of an audience.

Can I just add that Jun shredding on Brian May's blistering solos is really, really sexy? Even with the tragic Domyouji outfit (permed hair, leather pants, leopard-print coat and no shirt) and an imaginary guitar.

This clip disabled embedding, but it's worth checking out because it

begins with Matsujun's "audition" - love his O guitar

face. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DCcRVi2LJq4

13 Kimi Wa Petto, episode 8 (part five)

This was the role that endeared me to Jun; although everyone who watches Gokusen (and ends up a Jun fan) crushes on him, I didn't really fall for him till watching this show. I've been trained in dance since the age of seven, so Momo's dance scenes always strike a special place in my heart. Also, he's adorable as Momo - who wouldn't want those beautiful puppy-dog eyes staring at them all the time? - and the marked difference between Momo and Takeshi attests to Jun's potential as an actor (he was nineteen when he did this, and it was his second real lead role).

Being that he is a dancer, his sometimes unnerving thinness actually works to his advantage here - he is ethereal and beautiful as Perseus, and his angular body is suited to modern dance. ~~As is my own less-than-angular body, which is why modern dance is AWESOME.~~

Bonus: Smile episode 1 - Vito's arrest

Embedding is disabled here, but I wanted to stick this in at the end to give a different side of Jun - some people didn't like his performance as Vito, especially with all the crying involved, but I thought he did really well, and I am proud that he took on the role of a Filipino guy (one of us!!) and had the balls to appear in a show that faced the issue of Japanese racism head-on even when he is one of the most heavily marketed faces of modern Japan himself.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eoDgfyIwv4g

Paalam President Cory

2009-08-02T21:57:00.001+02:00

I am watching the funeral procession for Corazon Aquino, the former president of the Philippines. They are alternating between shots of Makati, EDSA, and Manila Cathedral. The Cathedral, to which the procession has yet to arrive, is empty, in stark contrast to the thousands of people that line the streets of Makati. This is one of those events that I would've liked to be a personal witness at - you can feel the spirit of the people through the screen, even from half a world away.

I wasn't old enough to "know" Cory the way Filipino adults do - indeed, I was born during her administration - but I have much, much respect for her. For the non-Filipinos reading this (and the Filipinos who just need to revisit their histories), she was the first female president of the Philippines. Her term ran from 1986, when Ferdinand Marcos was overthrown by the People Power movement, to 1992, the year that I left for America (I was born in 1987, a year into her term). The dates are just for reference; while I may not play a part in Philippine history, hey, you're reading my blog. XD Anyway, she was renowned worldwide as an icon of democracy and truly loved in the Philippines as a mother of sorts for the country. She had immense humility, always considering herself a simple housewife who just wanted to further her dead husband's wishes for the country's freedom. Funnily enough, even with my Philippine birth and all her publicity in the late 80s and throughout the 90s, my first memory of Cory is from a Women's History Month presentation in elementary school. I think they chose her because she was an important female political figure, but in retrospect it's a lot more special because I grew up in Daly City and thus my school was about 80% Filipino. I feel honoured to know that such an important modern historical figure was one of us.

While I may have a tenuous connection to Cory, only knowing her through textbooks and news programs ~~and her annoyingly ubiquitous and high-voiced daughter Kris~~ I will always admire her. She did the best she could in the times that she had; she had to deal with seven coup attempts, a massive earthquake, a volcano going off, the deadliest typhoon in Philippine history and a vast deficit left by her predecessor, who spirited the money away in untouchable Swiss banks. Even though she couldn't completely pull the Philippines out of third world status (if it wasn't Third World by the time she was in office, it would get there soon enough anyway, to no fault of her own), she still did quite a bit for her country. For her work she got thirteen honorary degrees, armfuls of awards, was Time's 1986 (wo)Man of the Year, and just narrowly missed getting a Nobel Peace Prize. She was a brilliant orator and a courageous person. A devoted wife (seriously, running for president in your dead husband's memory) and good mother (no matter how annoying you find Kris), she was a world-class leader, and an inspiration to Filipino women everywhere.

Oh, and she had a degree in French. I would've liked to have talked with her, from the standpoint of both a sociologist and a Filipino woman. She would be full of fascinating stories and insights, I think, and our conversations would have been interesting both in the subject matter and the languages used. We would've been able to understand each other in four languages: Tagalog, English, French, and our regional dialect, Kapampangan.

... I would've been most interested in the French and Kapampangan.

Wanderlust

2009-04-26T01:24:00.003+02:00

As I speak, the World's Fair is happening at AUP. I wish I could be there - it's fifty bajillion times better than any other school's multicultural fair because of all the nationalities there (about 100 in all), all displaying their culture's food, music and alcohol. It's about 4 PM in Paris, so people are probably pretty buzzed and slowly making their way to get totally wasted under the Eiffel Tower. Good times.

I should probably be going to sleep now because I have to get up at 6 AM, but for some reason I felt compelled to look through my Europe pictures (probably because I was looking at some EAP stuff). While I flipped through them I noticed that over there I looked and felt my best - I lost weight like nobody's business, and even though I had a bit of a skin problem I felt beautiful and chic and was having the time of my freaking life. I want that back. This is why I want an international job - I want to just comb the world for God knows what reason and take it all in, doing as much with my life as I can. I just don't know what to do. But I love traveling and playing at global citizenship... Santa Barbara is much too boring for me (and the public transportation SUCKS). Of course there are little joys here and there - for example, I had a gospel choir concert earlier and was having so much fun just screaming my lungs out for the Lord - but in the four years I've been here I've always had that misfit feeling.

I'm a big city person (especially a big European city person) and a traveller, so UCSB feels kind of like a bubble - two hours to the nearest big city (which I don't even like) and its own little self-contained environment. Some people love it here, and while the beach is nice, there's only so much you can do here. I'm dying to get out, but I know that once I get out of here my future is really, really, really uncertain. My bachelor's degrees can't really do anything by themselves without graduate school, so I'm going to be working crap jobs for a while... I was so lucky to have had that experience last year and I wish I could keep it going. But how long would it be till I got tired of travelling? Maybe it's better that I had that brief glorious time when I was twenty... although I would love to go back and do another proper Grand Tour (you know, one including Italy and longer than TWO WEEKS) before turning twenty-five because of all the sweet deals you get in Europe. And before the Real World leaves me too jaded. It'd be nice to go back to Europe in a headspace somewhere between the naive twenty-year-old I was then and the cynical, bitter late-twentysomething I am destined to be; old enough to know better but young enough to enjoy.

KC's Journal

2009-04-07T11:11:00.003+02:00

Every time the subject of me going to AUP came up in a conversation with anyone Filipino (well, besides Fil-Am kids) the words "KC Concepcion" were, without fail and without exception, involved. Doing a random google search (for Filipino wedding gowns, of all things) I accidentally came across her blog. It's interesting to read her thoughts, especially as she posts so unreservedly (and in a mixture of Tagalog-English-French) on the site - she truly is just another Filipino girl in Paris. And it's funny to think that I went through a lot of the same things (for example, she posts about World's Fair, an AUP tradition that is basically your school's Multicultural Night on crack). I think she's awesome - she's beautiful, famous, somewhat intelligent, humble, RICH and globetrotting to the max - and I kind of get the feeling that she is the girl I was supposed to be.

(Although Sharon ain't got nothing on my mama. No one can outdo my mama. LOVE YA MOM.)

So when you get bored of me, read her here.

Updates

2009-03-22T21:36:00.002+01:00

Well, for those of you who know me in Real Life I am obviously not in Paris anymore, but I've been thinking of continuing to document my travels. I am now sitting in the Rose Reading Room of the New York Public Library (the one with the lions, and the one from "Breakfast at Tiffanys" - or that very crucial plot point in "Sex and the City" for all you girls. LOL. This is such an epic library - it is like a museum and library smushed together and OMG WALL OF BOOKS. Love it. I've always wanted a library like this one.

The library is closing in a few minutes so I'll sign out now. More to come later.

Your Mom Goes To College

2008-05-11T15:43:00.004+02:00

Happy Mother's Day! This post is dedicated to mothers.

So those of you who know me personally know that I have a somewhat twisted sense of humour... which means, among other things, that I go around telling Yo Mama jokes on Mother's Day.

- Yo mama's so fat when she gets on the scale it says to be continued.
- Yo mama's so fat she's got her own area code!
- Yo mama's so fat she's on both sides of the family!
- Yo mama's so fat that when she sits around the house she sits AROUND THE HOUSE.
- Yo mama's so fat she fell in love and broke it!
- Yo mama's so skinny, she turned sideways and disappeared.
- Yo mama's so skinny, instead of calling her your parent, you call her transparent.
- Yo mama's so skinny, she only has one stripe on her pajamas.
- Yo mama's so skinny, she has to run around in the shower to get wet.
- Yo mama's so old her social security number is 1!
- Yo mama's so old that when she was in school there was no history class.
- Yo mama's so old that she was alive when the Dead Sea was only sick.
- Yo mama's so old, she knew Mr. Clean when he had an afro.
- Yo mama's so old, she has an autographed bible.
- Yo mama's so stupid, she put lipstick on her forehead because she wanted to makeup her mind.
- Yo mama's so stupid, she climbed over a glass wall to see what was behind it.
- Yo mama's so stupid, she took the Pepsi challenge and chose Jif.
- Yo mama's so stupid, she thinks socialism means partying!
- Yo mama's so stupid, she ordered her sushi well done.

And when I have children I am sure they'll say this:
- Yo mama's glasses are so thick she can see into the future.
- Yo mama's glasses are so thick that when she looks at a map she sees people waving at her.
- Yo mama's so short, she be jumping off curbs talkin' bout "Weeee!"
- Yo mama's so short, her homies are the Keebler Elfs.
* and maybe the Yo Mama So Fat ones too. We'll see.

And if I decide to live in Europe...
- Yo mama's so poor she can't afford the O or the R.
- Yo mama's so poor when I ring the doorbell she says,"DING!"
- Yo mama's so poor she can't pay attention.

But more importantly, I recorded a solo for my mom just for kicks. This is one of the solos I didn't get in "A Chorus Line" because they switched my role out (and I didn't get any solos, ha ha).

A Chorus Line - Mother (by Joanne!)

I hate the sound of my voice but I really liked the song. It's short though.

And in honour of my London trip in two days, a song by the Spice Girls!

And you know who ELSE will be in London in two days? The Backstreet Boys...

(it sucks that Nick has a bad relationship with his mom, though.)

... and Josh Groban.

But my favourite "mom" song has to be Boyz II Men's "A Song for Mama."

I probably should not be doing this right now, but whatever.

2008-05-04T23:14:00.003+02:00

5 Things found in my bag
1. Homework
2. Usually my laptop
3. Water bottle (all this running around Paname will make you thirsty, and they have NO water fountains anywhere)
4. Highlighters
5. Plus all the stuff you would find in my purse (I carry my life around with me. Literally.)

5 Things found in my purse

1. Keys
2. Cell Phone (this and "keys" are always the first two things on my checklist when I pack for anything)
3. Wallet
4. Moleskine (I love this book so much)
5. Digital Camera (because this is PARIS, for God's sake; there are a million things going on at any given time.)

5 Favourite things in my room

1. My giant sacred heart pendant (which my aunt Ruth bought in Paris seventeen years ago)
2. My malong (which has travelled the world with me, which will continue to travel the world with me, and in which I plan to be buried, according to Southern Filipino tradition.)
3. The giant print of Audrey Hepburn as Holly Golightly, which was put there by my host sister Marlene
4. The view (it just looks out onto a courtyard with nondescript buildings around it, but the fact that this courtyard is in PARIS makes up for the boring view.)
5. Nick (I mean, really. If you know me, I don't have to explain this at ALL.)

5 Things I always wanted to do

1. Go to Paris (and I'm heeeeeeeeeeeeeere!)
2. Dance competently en pointe. (I did one dance en pointe when I was seventeen, which links to the sub-wish that I had started ballet earlier. If I had, perhaps I might be able to do fouettes en pointe now... or be able to do fouettes period.)
3. Bartend. Not only do you make friends over alcohol, but it is good training for a psychologist (the listening, not the drinking).
4. Meet a celebrity that I liked (so far I've been lucky with Josh Groban, Andy Samberg, Orange and Lemons, and Carine Roitfeld. I'm still holding out for Nick Carter, though - it would be such a laugh to see him now after all those years of adolescent crushing. While I am not madly in love with him anymore, he will always hold a special place in my heart.)
5. Pretend to live a glamorous and luxurious life, like I like to do now, but NOT HAVE TO PRETEND.

5 Things I am currently into

1. Japanese television, especially the series "Nodame Cantabile"
2. Fashion (haute couture as always - especially since my friend Shanna and I bummed around during Fashion Week here - but especially the awesomeness that is H&M because it is all that I can afford)
3. Camille Dalmais (a French singer who goes just by "Camille"; I did a report in French class on her, and as she has just released a new (and BRILLIANT) album she is very in right now. I actually got to meet her
4. Hermes (which is linked to the first two things on this list)
5. Travelling the world and butchering everyone's language (so far I've slaughtered Dutch, Czech, German, Italian, French, Japanese, Spanish, Tagalog and Kapampangan.)

Stockholm Syndrome

2008-05-01T18:20:00.001+02:00

Sitting in a park in Paris, France
Reading the news and it sure looks bad
They won't give peace a chance
That was just a dream some of us had
Still a lot of lands to see
But I wouldn't want to stay here
It's too old and cold and settled in its ways here

Oh, but California
California I'm coming home
I'm going to see the folks I dig
I'll even kiss a sunset pig
California I'm coming home

- Joni Mitchell, "California"

According to Wikipedia, UC Santa Barbara is:

- Holder of he #2 best school psych program in America as of Winter 2007, the quarter when it was obvious I would have to change out of the psych major
- The approximate location of the Hellmouth
- Ranked 94% selective, on a scale of 1 to 99, by the U.S. World and News Report
- The only university in California to offer an undergrad degree in Pharmacology
- Home to six Nobel Laureates (although any good tour guide will tell you that right off the bat, lest you think your precious darling is going to a good-for-nothing party school)
- The fourth most selective UC in admissions in 2005, the year I got accepted (I'm guessing the other three were Berkeley, which rejected me, LA, which I refused to apply to, and Davis, which accepted me)
- Third in applications to the UC system, behind LA and SD (neither of which I ever wanted to attend)
- Giver of Pell Grants to 25% of the student body (including my own lucky self)
- The 35th university worldwide (and the 27th in the United States) in the 2007 Academic Ranking of World Universities
- One of sixty American members (including Canada, sixty-two in all) of the Association of American Universities
- 44th best university (13th public, fifth UC - behind Berkeley (DUH), LA, San Diego and Davis) in America, according to US World and News Report in spring of 2008
- The #4 party school in the nation as of 2005, the year I entered
- The #10 party school in the nation as of 2007, and tied with the #3 party school (University of Austin) for highest-ranking party school (#44) according to US World and News Report
- Home to the only Freebirds outside of Texas besides Norman, Oklahoma (the newest branch), the first of the chain, and founded the year I was born
- Probably the only school whose mascot is named for Argentinean cowboys (which, coincidentally, lend their name to a style of pant popular with its female students)
- Second only to UC Berkeley (those hippies) in antiwar activity during the Vietnam years
- Associated with (although not located in) a city which is a sister city to where I was born
- Site of the first Kinko's (well, kind of - it's in IV, right at the border of campus where the bike path ends)
- One of a few universities in the United States with its own beach (which is why I chose it over Davis, har har).
- About a mile away from the first McDonalds to serve an Egg McMuffin, the McDo version of my favourite American breakfast food (Eggs Benedict)
- Going to have Nas play at Extravaganza this year (YOU BEEZIES. I LOVE NAS. Nobody stands between me and Mr. Jones.)
- Now home to Santa Catalina Dorms, the off-campus halls formerly known as Francisco Torres (and affectionately as "F--- Towers")
- Where I will graduate

You know, I don't feel that bad for being rejected by Berkeley a second time. I don't hate Santa Barbara as much as I used to, especially ~~now that certain people are gone~~ going to Berkeley would throw a wrench in my plans to graduate in 2009 with a double major ANYWAY, since they use semesters instead of quarters. Also, I can always find a place on the beach to be alone and just SING. I can't do that in Paris because the walls are so freaking thin, the music room at AUP is always reserved when I am free, and the parks are filled with tourists (or creepy people).

I love Paris (in the springtime!), and I don't want to go home yet (if ever, haha)... but I kind of do. If, for nothing else, you can eat wherever the hell you please without someone making a comment (French people look at you funny if you eat outside your house, a park, or a restaurant, even though everyone does anyway) and there's always someone to walk you home at 4 in the morning.

Updates

2008-04-21T01:02:00.000+02:00

It's the weekEND before "A Chorus Line" opens (we begin Wednesday) and my French project is finally done (my teacher and classmates were very impressed, AS THEY SHOULD BE because I worked for about two months on this freaking project), but there's still projects in three other classes to tackle. After a couple of weeks where I was shuffled around due to some girl quitting the play, I am officially playing the role of Bebe. (Before the girl quit, I was Tara, a cut dancer who isn't even a real name - I'm serious, I looked through the script - and Vicki, a cut dancer who had some parts but is supposed to be a tall, sexy blonde...lol. After she quit, I was asked to replace her as Maggie, who has the most singing parts besides Cassie, the "main" character, and Diana, who gets the show's most famous song, "What I Did for Love".) The part of Bebe has been drastically cut down because (1) she doesn't speak much to begin with and (2) before I had been called to fill in the cast they had given Bebe's solo to someone else, and Maggie's solo to the girl who was playing Bebe at the time. The girl playing Bebe had told the directors that she had played Maggie before, and so she got the solo (and eventually the part of Maggie after the directors thought they were cutting up the role too much). I don't want to be catty, but I just wanted to point out that I already knew Maggie's part better than this girl did RIGHT OFF THE BAT... apparently my voice was "not strong enough" for Maggie, which makes me laugh (I'm sure it would make everyone who knows me from church laugh too, because they know that couldn't be farther from the truth... when I have MORE THAN ONE DAY TO REHEARSE A SONG, THANKYOVERYMUCH). My friend Ignacio (also in the play) gave me his word that everyone had been gunning for me to keep the role, but the girl playing Maggie had TOLD them that she had already played Maggie and could just step in. (However, everyone thinks she told a lie because it took her forever to learn her part.) ANYWAY. Long story short, I am now Bebe.

For the uninitiated, "A Chorus Line" is a play, originally performed in 1975 (and the longest-running Broadway show until "Cats" came along), about an audition to get into the chorus of a play. From the huge audition ("I Hope I Get It"), the director chooses eighteen (now seventeen, in our play) people to examine further before whittling down his (her, in our play) choices to four men and four women. During the play, we get to know these seventeen people and their life histories in a Tony Award-winning extravaganza of song and dance incorporating all styles from disco to rock to funk to Motown to classical to music-hall to burlesque. At the end of the play, the eight are chosen, and get their final bows before melting into the chorus line. However, the frightening thing about this is that those eight people, who have poured out their hearts and souls onstage for an hour and a half - and who become almost like old friends by the end of the play - become just eight more people in an anonymous chorus line. Despite their fascinating personalities and histories, in the end they sing, dance, act and become just like everyone else. The piece they sing, "One," is very well-known and a classic Broadway-style strut with a kick line at the end and everything.

Backstory on Bebe: Bebe Benzenheimer ("I know, I gotta change it!") is a somewhat neurotic modern dancer from Boston, Massachusetts. According to "At The Ballet," her mother told her she would be very attractive when she grew up because she would be unique and "different." However, this made her hate her mother because she wanted nothing more than to be just pretty. "Different is nice," she sings (in my solo that they gave to someone else, but the girl they gave it to is awesome so I can't hate on her), "but it sure isn't pretty." Thus, she sought refuge in dance, because the graceful movements of ballet made her feel beautiful. She seems to be a Broadway rookie, because in the one scene (besides introductions) that she talks, she begs people to stop talking about the decline of Broadway because she just got there.

Now, although I am not a Jewish East Coast girl like Bebe (and I certainly do not hate my mother), I can see a lot of myself (or I put a lot of myself) in Bebe. The way I see her, she's always a little nervous and shy because she's a rookie (and in fact, she feels kind of excluded from the rest of the cast, which is how I sometimes feel in big groups of people whom I may or may not know). She's got a bit of a beauty hang-up, like me, but LOVES to dance (and CAN dance), like me, so that ameliorates everything. Neither of us is ugly (I hope), but our looks are unconventional and that's what makes us feel a little bit like outsiders. Also, she just seems like a nervy character, and I have been told (to my face) that I am too uptight, so I can see how I can fit the role. Plus I'm relatively new when it comes to theatre; as I never got into plays in high school (what, I wasn't good enough? ... okay, probably. I know I can't act.) this is only the fourth play I have been in, and the third musical. Everyone else has done years and years of school plays and such, and I feel like such a n00b compared to them.

I also like that her name sounds like my mother's nickname, Bibi (which means "duck" in Kapampangan). It's like a giant circle of nomenclature: Bebe sounds like Bibi which means Duck which is modified to become Duckie. And here I am.

The only problem I have, though, is that with my leggings and jazz shoes and red lame American Apparel baseball jacket and the pleather (or, as my castmember Kyle calls it, "pu-pu-pu-pu-pu") fedora they gave me to practice with, the costuming girl has essentially made me Michael Jackson.

I get to sit next to this guy in class.

2008-04-10T21:18:00.004+02:00

Seriously. I'm not lying. There are some interesting people at this school, since it's all diplomats' kids and oil heirs and scions of exiled royalty and stuff. Andrea Casiraghi (that's the elder son of Princess Caroline of Monaco) went to school here (as did KC Conception, as any Filipino will tell you).

Anyway, as we were on our computers in class on Monday, he told me to go vote for him at the V Magazine Web Site so that he can win this model search.

Even if he's not your type, it's still a matter of honour for me to help my classmate. XD

(Also, he looks much, much younger in person, like 16 or something, and much more classically cute, i.e. fresh-faced. It's amazing what professional photography can do for a person.)

Musings of a (Definitely-Not-From-Harlem, Since I Suck at Basketball) Globetrotter

2008-04-03T13:42:00.001+02:00

"How does it feel? How does it feel
To be on your own? With no direction home,
Like a complete unknown? Like a rolling stone?

- Bob Dylan, "Like A Rolling Stone"

So I've been wondering what I really am, at this moment. I am more than halfway home (literally, since we end in mid-May), and I have been doing my best to adapt to life in France. Yet every time I speak to a French person outside of the house (and sometimes in the house) I feel like I'm actually regressing rather than advancing in my French skills. All my friends say that I'm really good at it (and why shouldn't I be? I studied it for four years, and it has been seven years since I started) but those three years without French lessons really killed me and I I stutter every time I try to speak in French. I also noticed in my video blog that my vowels are impure and very American (it's okay, Josh Groban has the same problem. No, really. Listen to him sing. He'll be singing away in perfect Italian or French or Spanish and then he'll suddenly slip in an American dipthonged "oh" or "ay" sound rather than the pure "o" or "e" sound that Romance languages have... it's noticeable even on his recorded - i.e. not live - albums. Oh, Josh). However, my mom keeps saying that I'll be really Frenchy when I get home and my host mom says that I'm already really Frenchy. I constantly stun both her and her daughter with my sheer knowledge of France and French culture (remember, I grew up reading the encyclopaedia. I'm not even kidding. Ask my mom. And my knowledge keeps expanding, given the vastness of the Internet and the average human's usage of only 10% of the brain), especially in casual conversation. Once I said "mec" (translating to "guy" or, since I'm from California, "dude") in conversation and Marlene (host mom's daughter) cracked up because I said that. I suppose it's something like a Japanese person, who's only really learned English through schoolbooks and the occasional movie, saying "dude" in the presence of Californians, but every time I go outside I feel like more and more of an outsider as time goes by. Like when I'm absolutely starving and have no time to eat except on the metro (and French people are absolutely fanatical about eating properly) and get stared at. Or when I'm speaking in English on the metro and get stared at. Or even when I'm the only non-white person in a particular compartment on the metro and get stared at. Ordering things in restaurants or buying things in stores (especially with my American magnetic-strip credit card, and my California ID that has to be shown with it) makes me nervous because I DON'T want to be the Obviously Stupid American in the room.

I know I'm not French, and don't pretend to be, but I CAME TO FRANCE TO PRACTICE MY FREAKING FRENCH SO I DON'T BECOME THE STUPID AMERICAN ALL FRENCH PEOPLE MAKE FUN OF. I am obviously American, but I don't want people patronising me by speaking in English unless I ask first... they usually end up speaking to me in English anyway. I don't always understand right away, and have to have things repeated, but I WANT THEM REPEATED IN FRENCH SO I CAN BEGIN TO UNDERSTAND. I speak enough English - to my friends, to my professors (except Attal because he is the French professor and we are in an advanced French class anyway), to my family, even IN MY HEAD - so I need to practice French. I'd rather slog through the rapid French of a snobby salesperson rather than have them sneer at me in slow English. (There's only been one salesperson - at the ticket booth in the opera house - that has been rude to me so I've been lucky. But still, she didn't have to be such a B$%&# when I only asked where the bathrooms were. "Ce n'est pas publique" (It's not a public toilet), she snapped at me when, just ten minutes earlier, she had been all smiles and sunshine and lollipops when I had bought a ticket. I'M NOT THE PUBLIC. I AM A PAYING CUSTOMER. I PAID YOU, YES YOU, NOT EVEN TEN MINUTES BEFOREHAND AND BOTH MY BRAIN AND BLADDER ARE THISCLOSE TO EXPLODING because it's THAT TIME OF THE MONTH, SO STFU AND TELL ME WHERE I CAN PEE. (...now if only I could yell that fluently in French.)

And you know what else is weird? I speak more Filipino here than I do in America because there's quite a few Filipinos in Paris (we have our own fellowship at the American Church) and I see them work as domestics all the time in the 16th since that's where al the rich people live. I feel like I owe it to myself, Manila native that I am, to still remember Filipino in the jumble of languages I've spoken since I was here (stuttering French, mangled Czech, WTF German, gringa Spanish, fangirl/gaijin Japanese), and I am heading to Manila two days after returning to San Francisco ANYWAY. I want to be like Jose Rizal and speak twenty different languages, except (1) I don't know who I can inflict Sanskrit on and (2) Jose Rizal would probably make fun of me for how badly I speak Filipino. I mean, despite my natural love and knack for languages, and my best efforts to subsume my acquired American accent, Filipinos can still tell that I am American (and sometimes laugh at/make fun of me for it). NEVER MIND THAT I WAS BORN IN CARDINAL SANTOS, A HOSPITAL IN METRO MANILA NAMED AFTER A PRIEST FROM MY MOTHER'S HOME TOWN IN PAMPANGA, AND THAT I SPENT MY FORMATIVE YEARS IN SAMPALOC, THREE MINUTES AWAY FROM UNIVERSITY OF SANTO TOMAS, THE OLDEST UNIVERSITY IN MANILA. MA.NI.LA. AS IN, WITHIN THE CITY LIMITS OF THE ACTUAL CITY OF MANILA.

Anyway, yeah, it's weird how I feel like I'm regressing in French only after I've come to Paris. It's kind of like when you practice something so much that you begin to forget it (which is also happening with me right now, as I practice for my play which I don't even have a main part in, despite the fact that I've been one of the most faithful attendees of practices and a freaking good singer if I do say so myself, but WHATEVER).
Also, it's weird because I don't know what to call home (especially since "Like A Rolling Stone" is playing on the radio): my place of birth, my place of upbringing, my original ("home") university, or my current (temporary) domicile (which is in what has been my dream city since I began to wear glasses, and my home base in Europe - I actually got to tell people "I'm from Paris" when I was on spring break)? I call all of them home at the same time. My mom uses the same verb ("muli," meaning "to go home" in Kapampangan) to refer to me going to the Philippines and America, and my host mom sometimes reminds me that the apartment is (for now) my home too. When discussing study abroad, UCSB is referred to as my "home" university. However, none of them are really HOME at the moment.

Or maybe they are.

I suppose that one can argue that I'm trying to keep up with the exoticism of AUP students by asserting my transnationalism (lots of rich people, multinationals, expats, study abroad kids, and/or diplomats' kids go here), but one (I) can also argue that I am a transnationalist because I was born in one country, raised (with heavy, heavy links to the former) in another, and currently live - like, with a NON-TOURIST visa and everything, however temporarily - in another.

But I'll leave the entry about transnationalism for another day (sociology/Asian American Studies student that I am).

I suppose it'll get even more confusing once I go back to the Philippines. My mom actually told me once that I was not Kapampangan (never mind that she speaks to me in nothing else), and I never feel Just American, EVER, and I never feel Just Filipino, EVER, and I am Obviously Not French. So... what am I? And don't say Filipino-American, because that just brings up dreadful images of either

(1) suburban kids who spent their adolescence wishing, or trying to, be "normal" (read: WHITE) and then all of a sudden bursting into Rabid Filipino Pride upon attending college,

(2) suburban girls who dress in Abercrombie or Hollister, dye their hair a brassy blonde-brown, have white boyfriends and Volkswagen Jettas, join overwhelmingly blonde sororities (and thus are the darkest person in the sorority picture no matter how much they try to block UV Rays), and (if they have enough money) get surgery to sharpen their flat noses, or

(3) suburban kids dressed in Fubu and Sean John and Girbaud, braid cornrows in their straight Asian-but-insisting-they-are-Pacific-Islander hair, and American accents mangling words in Tagalog far worse than I could ever do.

Unless, of course, you're Don. He's cool. (And grew up in the Philippines until, like, age 16 so he still speaks with a slight Filipino accent even if he dresses like everyone else. And lives within SF city limits, which gives him automatic street cred.) I miss Don, insufferable dork that he is... Or Rianne, who is a mix of EVERYTHING (half Filipino, half black-white-possibly Hispanic, I never remember, but she went to school in the Mission for like eight years so that probably counts for something) but grew up with her resolutely Filipino grandparents. Or Casey, Sergio, or Noni - I think they are the perfect mix of Filipino and American. I always envied how they could mix well with Fil-Am kids in the way I never could, but without the ghetto-wannabe affectations or atrociously American-accented Tagalog of some other kids I know. And they still mano adults and say "po" at the end of every sentence and everything. Or even Andrea and Kyle, who moved to America when Eeyah was nine and Kyle was sixteen (I think), but they still are fluent in Tagalog (although Eeyah was born in Pampanga and sometimes I give her crap for not knowing Kapampangan since she grew up in Manila) and are obviously Filipino, BUT STILL ASSIMILATED WAY BETTER - AND COOLER - THAN I DID. (Even if Eeyah is a little too blunt towards her parents to be the perfect Filipina - hey, "pnaysoblunt" is/was her screenname - but then again, she inherited it from THEM. LOL.) Or Joan and Jordan, who are the "typical" Filipino American without being obnoxious about it (speaks predominantly English, but understands Filipino fluently; may or may not have been Philippine-born, but has been raised in America from an early age; leans toward hip-hop culture without going overboard with "ghetto" affectations; the life of every party; actually LOOKS LIKE A FILIPINO PERSON; digs in heartily at any Filipino dish on the table... you know, now that I think about it, kind of like the Antonio kids). Or Leonard and Gail, who actually DO use their Tagalog skillz in addition to ticking all the boxes of "typical Filipino American". Or Megan - or Ruth - or Janice - or Toby! - who are in their own categories altogether.

OKAY, FINE. I MISS YOU ALL. AND YOU ARE ALL UNIQUE. I LOVE MY FRIENDS.

The more I think about it, the more I realise that among my friends there is no one set "Filipino-American" archetype - I mean, you see the caricatures at PCN (I played the fobalicious mother, w00t) and in movies like "Lumpia" and "The Debut" and "The Flip Side" - but growing up I always felt like I (and perhaps Adrian #1) was always the odd Filipino out. Too white to be Filipino, too Filipino to be white, and nowhere near the African-American/Latino hip-hop normative, ethnically, culturally or psychologically. And no one ever thought I looked Filipino. (At least Adrian had that... but at least I knew I wasn't the typical Filipino and never tried the ghetto immersion thing. Bwahahaha. Okay okay okay, cheap shot, sorry ~~like I have anything to apologise about~~) Being Manila-born, I felt like I had to work THAT MUCH HARDER to prove to everyone and myself that I am Filipino. I relearned Tagalog and Kapampangan at ten, I did folk dance from the age of seven right up until I left for college, and it is telling that within my immediate circle of friends - save for Michelle and Rianne, but again, Rianne is an SF-born-and-raised mix of everything (I so envy people who grew up in the City) so she can do whatever the freak she wants and not have to worry about being Filipino enough - that I am the only one who had a debut. I think I still don't fit in anywhere - and will never fit in anywhere - because I was alone all the time when I was little, and so was left to my own devices ithout social references from anyone, except my parents, with whom I slogged through everything so I can never act like a typical Filipina - or a typical ANYTHING - towards them either. And then you throw France into everything, and the cultural melange of WTF increases.

I suppose I should follow the advice of the song playing on the radio - "Relax, Take It Easy."

Video Blogging!

2008-04-01T20:37:00.000+02:00

Am dipping a toe into the exciting new world of video blogging. I was supposed to say "Hi, this is Joanne" at the beginning, but that part got cut while I was importing the video to the computer T_T Anyway, here are the results of my labours.

Addendum.

2008-03-31T17:36:00.003+02:00

OH MY GOD I WANNA CRY.

As soon as I finished this post there sat a girl, who looks like she's barely out of the lycee (which is quite young, considering my own "looks way younger than she is" complex and the fact that she is ethnic French and White People Age Differently Than Asians and all that), in front of me. She is wearing a neon t-shirt and jeans, and on the seat next to her is -

A taupe pebble leather Hermes Birkin bag.

HERMES. BIRKIN.

Let me repeat that the girl barely looks lycee age. I don't even know if she goes to this school. And she is schlepping around a Birkin. The best I've got is my mother's beat-up Louis Vuitton Speedy - something so commonplace and counterfeited as to become borderline vulgar - that is as old as me (and which I left behind in America because I accidentally broke the handles when I was fifteen and we still haven't fixed it) and the even more beat-up Prada that my grandma got from a Goodwill for two dollars (which is awesome in itself, and is useful enough for me to bring to Paris, but seeing as my Gran doesn't know Prada from Primark that isn't saying much).

I can't even afford the 86-euro Benetton version of the Birkin.

Life is so unfair.

A wedding? I love weddings! Drinks all around!

2008-03-31T16:45:00.004+02:00

"You got your passion you got your pride
But don't you know only fools are satisfied?
Dream on but don't imagine they'll all come true."
- Billy Joel, "Vienna"

So apparently my cousin Selang is getting married even though she has never told me about her fiance - I get all my news from my mother. This same mother told me that I have to change my flight ASAP because I'm the maid of honour... sweet Lord, I'm not even 21 yet and I am already serving as maid of honour as weddings. This only lends more credence to the stresses I've been having all weekend about my insanely busy schedule and life. I feel like there's never enough time and money, and I have to give up a whole bunch of things I wanted to do because of it. Here's a rundown of concerns I have right now:

1. Book a flight from Paris Charles de Gaulle to San Francisco, first of all (am waiting for STA Travel in Santa Barbara to open so I can get help from the travel agents there)
2. Book a flight to San Francisco to NAIA (my mother's job, but she is waiting on my schedule... it will come soon, mum. promise.)
3. 10-minute French presentation, including a 3-page dossier and the shooting of a 4-minute music video, due next Thursday
4. 10-page music term paper due next Friday
5. 10-page English term paper due the Friday after next
6. "A Chorus Line" from April 23 to 25
7. A bunch of Communications reading logs due throughout the semester
8. Finals on May 12, 13 and 16
9. London trip May 13-15, including Josh Groban in "Chess," May 13 (actually I'm really happy about this other than the freaky-deaky exchange rate)
10. Maid of Honour at Selang's wedding in June
11. Philippines trip for one month (another bright spot, but again, so much timing and budgeting to do on both Mum's and my part)
12. Ma's birthday (present?)
13. Summer School from June 24 to August sometime - CHOOSE CLASSES APRIL 1.
14. Senior Year beginning in late September, and graduation in June 2009... and grad school afterwards...
15. General ticking of my biological clock, which SHOULD NOT BE A PROBLEM BECAUSE I'M ONLY TWENTY YEARS OLD, AND HAVE BEEN TOLD SO REPEATEDLY, but if I want to have a kid by 27 I only have seven years to find the absolute love of my life ~~and actually keep him in my clutches this time~~. Seven years seems like a long time, but time is going by faster and faster and faster and if I want to achieve everything I want to before I'm thirty it's going to take a lot of time and money, neither of which I have, or expect to have for a while. I'm afraid to end up alone and broke at thirty, not having achieved anything that I want to because life keeps passing me by. I am in my favourite city in the world and things are going by just SO QUICKLY that I don't have time to enjoy anymore. Sometimes I want to give it all up and just bum around Europe Hemingway-style, but since I do not share his talent or his bank account I know darn well I can't do that and must keep on slogging away at whatever I'm doing. I don't want to be disappointed by Paris, and I refuse to be disappointed by Paris, but even with my share of exhilarating, euphoric moments, I still feel the ennui setting in, like, "why am I here? Why am I at school? Why can't I do the things I want to? Why can't I have enough money as the rest of everyone?"

The last issue is particularly jarring to me, because of the declining dollar value (I KNEW I WAS BORN TEN YEARS TOO LATE) and impending recession, according to my mother. Even though I am the daughter of two accountants, and you all know how my mother sometimes finds my budgeting peculiar and over-the-top (I write down everything. EVERYTHING.) the money is never ever enough. I grew up hearing my mother's stories of how my grandma was too poor - and busy raising her own siblings, and then fighting World War II, and then raising her own children - to go to school, and how she herself was so poor in college that she couldn't even afford a slice of pizza or a snack out of a vending machine. I am so determined to make her proud, but somehow I always, always, ALWAYS screw up and my bank account is dwindling away. And here I am whinging about how I can't go to Italy (one of my other dreams) after crossing Europe because mommy won't let me (technically, she will, but then she holds the money thing over my head, which obviously means "no").

I hate how going to this school makes me feel so petulant and plebeian - I just talked to my friend Lindsay and she shared the same concerns. As her home university is NYU and she is from a middle-class Asian family like myself, she hates how she can't share in the same luxuries that our real AUP classmates can, like jetting off to Greece for a weekend or getting that new Chanel purse. At the same time, she feels guilty about spending so much of her and her parents' hard-earned money because of the infernal exchange rate. We barely (well, I barely) spend any money on anything but food and transportation, but it all adds up. It's like my mother's experience on a grander, yet still a pettier, scale: whereas she couldn't afford pizzas, vending machine snacks, or sometimes trips home on the jeepney like her classmates, I can't afford nights out, Chanel purses, or trips to Rome like my classmates. The exchange rate makes my experience a bajillion times worse, but the superficiality of the things I complain about makes my experience a bajillion times pettier in comparison. I have just enough to survive, but that's IT, and there's SO. MANY. THINGS. TO DO. IN EUROPE. and whereas my mother always came back to the Philippines (our current ~~problem~~ concern) I get the feeling I'm never ever coming back to Europe. I told my mom so in a fit of petulance this morning, but it feels truer and truer as time goes by. After AUP comes the Philippines (spending time and money), then summer school (time), then senior year (time and a bit of money), then GREs (time and money), then grad school (time and MONEY), then trying to find a job (MONEY MONEY MONEY), then finding a boyfriend and possible husband like five years down the line (time time TIME... I don't care what anyone says about being too young, every time I see someone making out in the metro my blood starts to boil because I know that I don't have anyone, not even for marriage or baby daddy purposes - GOD FORBID I SHOULD HAVE A KID AT MY AGE... Ana and Justine, I salute you - but for selfish purposes like love and snuggling and some sort of comfort), then having kids before my ovaries go kerflooey (time, MONEY), then worrying about the emotional, physical, and financial development of said kids (time, time, money, money, time, money), then worrying about spoiling grandchildren and other descendants (time and money), then death (money).

Who has time to eat, or sleep, or go to Europe, or LIVE, when there's all this crap to do?

At least I can eat.

And I'll get plenty of rest when I'm dead.

Okay, it's a month late, but...

2008-03-29T17:51:00.002+01:00

Paris Fashion Week!

Chanel, February 29, 2008

Claudia Schiffer. I saw her at Valentino in January. She's still stunning close up.

But wait - who is that in the distance?

It's the editrix of American Vogue (and inspiration for a certain eponymous Prada-clad devil) Anna Wintour!

Kanye West and his "black Kate Moss," Alexis. Say what you will about his arrogance, but I love love LOVE his beats.

The plebes (aka Shanna and me).

An awesome action shot of Anna (taken by Shanna) - I still have no idea how or why Shanna got that close. I was so afraid to come near Anna that I shot her with my zoom. LOLLLLLL.

Some models coming out. Not really feeling the gold eye makeup mask thing, but hey, it's Chanel. I'm sure the clothes look awesome with more wearable makeup.

Gaspard Ulliel, the French actor who played the young Hannibal Lecter in "Hannibal Rising," prequel to "Silence of the Lambs." Sexiest psychopath ever? SEXIEST PSYCHOPATH EVER. (But there is actually a really, really sad story behind how Dr. Lecter came to be criminally insane.) Here he is with some of my new fashion buddies.

Marc Lavoine, a famous French singer.

The awesome Irina Lazareanu, who was kind enough to pose with my friends.

Ashley Olsen (or is it Mary-Kate? Now that they're both blonde again I can never tell behind those freaking sunglasses.)

Some celebrity exits: Claudia, Kanye and Alexis, and Rihanna. (And no, I respected Miss Rihanna's personal space - I just forgot to un-zoom the camera.)

Okay, back to school. (The book in my hand is "Wuthering Heights" - I was slated to give a presentation immediately after the fashion show.)

2008-03-20T21:37:00.002+01:00

there is NO way I could post all of my Eurotrip pictures in one post or one sitting (hello, eight cities in fifteen days); I simply do not have the time and sanity for it. So here are a few snaps from the journey, with accompanying blurbs. More to come later.

Guru Bar, Barcelona. I bought the drink because it was called San Francisco. :D

Las Ramblas, Barcelona - New friends I've made along the way. Left to right is: Johannes, from Innsbruck (Austria), Melanie from Austin (Texas), me, Sandra, also from Innsbruck, and Alexis, from Houston (Texas).

Cerbere, France (on the border of France and Spain, on the train from Barcelona to Avignon) - Nick enjoying a snack and some comics.

Columbus statue, Barcelona - Apparently Christopher Columbus is pointing to America. By this point of the trip my sense of direction was shot to hell so I couldn't tell you if he was right.

More descriptions to come later, but for now, enjoy the pics. And try to guess where I am - it could be fun!

Slow down, you crazy child.

2008-03-07T00:09:00.003+01:00

"You're so ambitious for a juvenile...
You got so much to do and only
so many hours in a day."
- Billy Joel, "Vienna"

So I'm in Vienna right now, after spending the last day-and-a-half in Prague. I'm staying in the Hutteldorf hostel, which is like 30 minutes away from the centre of Vienna. The walk here was kind of creepy, as it was SO quiet on the way, and kind of bucolic for a major city - I think I'm in suburban Vienna, actually. The hostel reminds me of CI all over again - a bunch of bungalow-like things that I have to trek in the (very cold) dark to enter, wooden bunkbeds, scheduled times for everything, lots of trees, hella far from anything, etc. The only differences are the people smoking and drinking behind me (I still hate cigarette smoke, and I live in Paris), no bible study, and no piano. Oh, and also the fact that I'M IN AUSTRIA LOL.

The past few days have been fun, but hectic (WELL DUH) and more than a little stressful because I keep getting lost. Ordinarily getting lost in a big city is fun for me, but ordinarily that city is San Francisco or Paris, both of which I have known and loved (if not inhabited) for many years and I have a map (paper or mental) of where I am. It's not as fun when you don't speak the language and it's 11:00 at night because your train came in late or you took the wrong tram/bus/metro line and time is running out and you're hungry and out of cell phone minutes and carrying a huge-ass bag of stuff that includes your ten-pound Oxford Anthology of English literature because your English professor got the brilliant idea of giving you a take-home midterm over spring break when you're visiting eight cities in fifteen days and already have a major French project to do.

I've got some interesting travelling stories already and I'm just a little worse for the wear - I'm still able to walk, I've got all my essential accoutrements (KNOCK ON WOOD) and I wrote down a bunch of German phrases in my Moleskine before arriving so I think I'll be fine.

There's so many things to do in Vienna and I'm only here for a day and a half so I'm going to look those things up now. And go to sleep, because I am EXHAUSTED. Vienna waits for me, but my own circadian rhythms do not.

VOGUE!

2008-02-29T22:55:00.003+01:00

Click click click to enlarge.

If you don't know who this woman is, click here.

Now, I don't know if she was just feeling benevolent, or if she really is that nice all the time. Or even if she just felt like humouring this chubby, shy, bumpkinesque American girl (well, girls, because I was with Shanna) who stuttered her admiration in rusty French. And she doesn't know this (much less care), but to this girl - who has spent her entire life playing dress-up (yes, even at age twenty) and who taught herself foreign languages by reading fashion magazines at age ten - this means the world.

Late January to February

2008-02-16T12:20:00.002+01:00

A writer's tools. (That big pink thing in the foreground is the most expensive sandwich I've ever had, it being an open-faced smoked salmon sandwich at the Cafe Select, where Hemingway used to go; the postcard is to my friend Toby, to wish him happy St. Thomas' Day since his actual name is Thomas.) And NO, I don't smoke, although Paris has already given me a smoker's cough. >_<

The window display of the flagship store for Hermes. As a Francophile, a Japanophile, a fashionista, a geek, a prepster and a woman, I love love LOVE this store. And as a balletomane, I love this window display.

The slogan for this store is "The House of Beauty" (I just found out that it's a cosmetics company).

I met Jane Goodall! (She's the English lady who's really famous for working with chimpanzees.)

Notre Dame Cathedral at night. "Paris is worth a Mass." - Henri IV of Navarre

Place de la Bastille. That big thing to the right is the Opera Bastille; while I love opera, I don't love this building. I much prefer the elegant Palais Garnier (which is the setting for "Phantom of the Opera").

Ah, the Metro.

Funnily enough, I saw this restaurant on the way home. It made me smile.

Rachel in front of the Eiffel Tower on Valentine's Day.

Obviously not Rachel.

Goofing around.

My favourite shot of the session. :D I think it looks very mod/60s, with the light and the peacoat and the cherry blossoms and all. When I showed it to my friend Lindsey, she said, "I need to hang out with you so you can take pictures of me!" XD (I was very flattered; I like to think I take good photos.)

La Grande Arche de la Defense; built in 1989 for the bicentennial of the French Revolution, it stands 6 km away in a straight line from the Arc de Triomphe...

Which you can see from the Grande Arche.

La Defense is awesome; it is futuristic, whereas the rest of Paris is very antique (there are buildings over a hundred years old still in use in some arrondissements, like mine). My host mom hates La Defense, though. "C'est moche" (it's ugly), she says. I love it - it looks like what people (including myself when I was little) envisioned cities would look like in 2008, sans the flying cars. (I really wish they had them though.)

It was freezing (well, two degrees Celsius above freezing; I checked) so I finally gave up and had my first ever Starbucks in France.

Some More Pictures from January.

2008-02-01T21:45:00.000+01:00

The windows of Chanel!

Fabulous macaroons and the best chocolate in the world (well, second to my mother's) at Angelina

If you don't know why this is here... you probably shouldn't be here.

This particular subway stop is lined with tiles that come together to form parts of important French documents like the Declaration of the Rights of Man and stuff.

My friend Rachel hates getting photographed.

So does my friend Joanne, affectionately known as Other Joanne.

Bibimbap! Yummy!

God, I hope I get it.

2008-02-01T20:44:00.001+01:00

"You'll never be an actress. Never."
- Diana, "Nothing"

So I auditioned for the play "A Chorus Line" on Wednesday, the first day possible. While we were waiting to get called, I realised that I had forgotten to prepare a song (or thought that they would give us a song to sing). Since we were supposed to bring our own songs, I didn't know what to sing. So, as a joke, and to get over my nerves, I decided to go with a really, really audacious song (which, nevertheless, was appropriate, as it turned out to be the part I was supposed to read for the acting bit):

Now, there's only the dance audition to get over. It's tomorrow, February 2, at 10:30 AM Paris Time.

Wish me luck.

And while you wait, here's one of the other parts I'm auditioning for, sung by the woman I always wanted to be.

PICTURES!

2008-01-26T23:28:00.000+01:00

Eiffel Tower at Night, from across the Seine

Shortest Skirt EVER, aka 100th PICTURE IN PARIS YAAAAAAAAAAY

I'm not drunk, I promise....

Coffee cups are TINY here.

Le Moulin Rouge!

Montmartre

Nothing says "Congratulations on surviving your first week in Paris" like McDonalds on the Champs Elysees.

Versailles

Valentino Fashion Show, Rodin Museum

This lovely starlet is Blake Lively, of "Gossip Girl" fame. Check the dress on any celeb website.

Devon Aoki

Lucy Liu!

Uma (or as the French called her, "Yuma") Thurman

Claudia Schiffer

Moi

Plaque

The house was lit in red in honour of Valentino and his signature colour.

C'est ca que j'aime (ba da ba ba ba...)

2008-01-26T22:19:00.000+01:00

I am writing from a McDonald's in Porte St.-Cloud, Paris (hence the title, which is the French translation of "I'm Lovin' It"). A funny thing happened on the way to the McDonalds: I was stopped by a girl (black coat, long scarf and Longchamp purse as is common among Parisian girls) who asked me for directions as to how to get to a certain street in French. I helped her to the nearest exit in nervous, stuttering French... but lo and behold, as soon as her phone rang ("Last Night" by P. Diddy and Keyshia Cole... I hate that song) she began to speak in slightly accented (to me) English! So I waited until we got to the stop and she got off her phone. As soon as she started asking me again how to get to the proper street, I was like, "wait, you speak English?" And she was like, "where are you from?" I said, "California!" We had a good laugh over that, as we were both Anglophones speaking to each other in nervous French when we could have conversed much more freely and easily in English. However, I thought she was French and she thought I was French, which was pretty funny because everyone can tell that I'm Not From France (especially now that I'm dressed as Comfy American Joanne instead of Haute Parisienne Joanne) and she looked pretty Parisian and spoke good French. She barely had a North American accent, as far as I could tell; and it was just as well, since she was from Canada (Winnipeg). I told her I had cousins in Ontario (WHAT'S UP KEV) and she was like "cool!" So she went to the left, as the map told us to, and as she turned away I said "Good luck eh!"

I'm not sure if she heard me but I hope she gets there okay since it's like 10:20 at night here.

La Belle Fille et "Merci"

2008-01-26T18:22:00.000+01:00

So my host mom probably thinks I'm a total weirdo for being so polite, but I'm still navigating the treacherous waters of French society. According to every authority at AUP that's spoken to us about interacting with French people, this society is a very polite one in which it may take you months to be called "tu" (as opposed to the more polite "vous") by a friend. However, Abby, the previous boarder, told me that my host mom is a lot more informal than other host families (even if I had already committed several faux pas IN THE FIRST DAY which Abby helped smooth over by explaining that I'd never gone to France and was not used to it at all). Still, I can't help but use "vous" and overusing the words "d'accord" (okay) and "merci" (thank you) as well as always greeting her formally. (To lessen the tension, though, I tend to greet her in a funny way, like "hel-looooooooo" and "good-byyyyyye" just so I don't feel so dorky about being formal).

I just mentioned this because I used "merci" like five times in the last conversation we just had, which was about doing laundry (I'm lucky in that she'll even do it for me) and my borrowing the iron. As I said the last "merci" she just kind of laughed and I'm not quite sure how to take that... is she thinking like "this girl is really overly polite and should loosen up" or "this girl is a complete dork" (which isn't too far from the truth)? She has been very, very generous and welcoming but I still worry here and there whether I'm crossing the line or what; the cultural minutiae and language barrier are really doing NOTHING to alleviate my neurosis.

Like foreals.

I left America for THIS?

2008-01-26T15:16:00.000+01:00

I find myself saying this a lot, because (like in many parts of the world, thanks to globalisation) traces of America are EVERYWHERE in Paris. Every time I get on the metro, there's at least one banner overhead that blares "SAUVEZ BRITNEY" (Save Britney!) and a tabloid picture of Miss Spears in a straitjacket. The first day I arrived at AUP, the tabac next door had a huge poster advertising Britney's breakdown in the window. Also, my host mother likes Ne-Yo (NE-YO, for God's sake... I like him too, but it's so much funnier coming from her); there's a McDonald's on the Champs-Elysees (which I HAD to eat at) and a Pizza Hut down the street from my school; French girls in cornrows and tracksuits pushing their similarly corn-rowed and track-suited toddlers in strollers always show up in TV documentaries about The Troubled Youth of France; MTV France is essentially the American channel but with French people speaking over the English (which you can still hear underneath); and my host family always watches a TV channel that exclusively plays American films (the last one I saw was "Meet The Parents") dubbed (mercifully, without the English track playing underneath) in French. The worst offense, though, is the music.

I love, love, LOVE Euro-dance music and hoped that I would hear much more of it in the clubs and on MTV France. I'm talking Bob Sinclar, Yves Larock ("Rise Up" is my official Paris anthem), Cassius, Daft Punk, etc., etc. But when I went clubbing last week and yesterday, it was the same old undanceable American (c)rap that I hear at home. Now, I love hip-hop; I grew up in the milieu and heyday of gangsta rap (WEST COAST REPRESENT!) and I have a special place in my heart for 1980s rap, freestyle, and breakbeat music. And while the first club I went to was kind of OK (they had a Eurodance period, a Reggaeton/Hip-hop period and a disco period) the club I went to yesterday felt like a high school dance and even played the kind of stuff I used to hear at my high school dances (example: they played Chingy's "Right Thurr". CHINGY. When the hell did Chingy last come out with a hit? I remember "Holidae Inn" playing on the way to my post-debut party... which was indeed at the Holiday Inn. IN 2005.) which disappointed me because I was hoping they would play better, more danceable club music here. I think it was because this was an AUP event and so they were trying to cater to the American audience that they played a lot of rap, but also the DJs kind of sucked on a technical scale: specifically, they kept trying to crossfade two songs with different BPMs (beats per minute) so the rhythms overlapped and sounded kind of discordant/off-beat.

I did, however, find some amusement in trying to teach a Swedish girl (who was a very enthusiastic learner) the Soulja Boy dance. And in the fact that there was a black guy in a Superman t-shirt at the club doing the Soulja Boy dance as well.

HAY GUYZ MOAR PIKZ YAAAAAAAAY

2008-01-20T17:20:00.000+01:00

Having way too much fun in Paris to type out full posts yet. Also, the lab is closing in 30 minutes. :D

ZOMG PICSPAM YAAAAAAAAAAAAY

2008-01-17T17:38:00.000+01:00

My Stupid Mouth.

2008-01-16T14:35:00.000+01:00

So there's a whole bunch of stuff going on that I have to blog about soon but I just wanted to vent about a small embarrassing moment I had in the supermarket today.

I was walking toward the back of the line at the local supermarket and it was a tight fit to get past all those people, so my American instinct to say "excuse me" out loud (and my Filipino instinct to duck and put my hands in front of me as I passed by kicked in), and so I mumbled "pardon, pardon" all the way down the line (like I do in the metro, anyway). The thing is, the entire supermarket was SILENT. And then these French dudes in the other line started making fun of me: "Hahahahaha, elle dit pardon. Qui repond?" (Hahahaha, she said "excuse me." Who's gonna answer?)

Now I've steeled myself for getting crap from French people, but it still hurts when it actually happens. Especially after such a good day yesterday (Notre Dame, lots of cool exploring, clubbing, and walking the Champs Elysees at 3:00 in the morning). Paris, like any other big city, is amazing in its ability to bring me to such great heights (harhar) of euphoria, making me feel my freest and most at-home, and yet bring me crashing so hard back down to reality and reminding me of how much a fish out of water I am.

(There were SO many cliches in that last sentence... but remember, they became cliches because they are true.)

Too many things going on.

2008-01-15T02:16:00.000+01:00

What a hectic couple of days it was...

After we got back to the hotel on Saturday night, I spent a bit of time preparing myself for the day ahead (packing, counting money, etc) and got off to a rocky start when the toilet in our hotel room malfunctioned and I had a fitful, sweaty sleep (it was really freaking warm in the room, so my roommate opened it, but closed it again in the middle of the night when it was too loud). Also, apparently I snore. My parents could have told you that, and she was like "you never told me you snored..." but 1. I think I only snore when I'm super duper tired (Michelle never complained the entire time I lived with her in SB) and 2. I didn't think to tell my roomie that because I didn't think I actually snored anymore. (Then again, my adenoidectomy - which stopped my snoring for a long time - was thirteen years ago.) THEN, for some brilliant reason, we had to get up at 6.45 AM to get ready for the trip over to AUP at 9 AM. T_T Even with that, my roomie and I were almost late. (It was probably my fault, even though I got up at exactly 6.45 AM.) Then after the housing session, my new friend Joanne Chu and I decided to move in. I got hella nervous trying to speak in French to Madame Fabregat (my host mother) but she was understanding and I moved in right after. Even with the early move-in I got back late to AUP, which is horrible because the thing I was coming back for was the placement test. Since I was late, I probably didn't do as well as I could/should have and will probably get an easier class than I really need. >_< After that, though, I had a whole block of time to kill and was kind of bummed out by my poor test performance so Joanne and I decided to explore the seventh arrondissement. We had lunch at a cute little cafe-brasserie-bistro thingy off of Rue de Champ de Mars - I had a croque-monsieur, fries, and a Kronembourg (yum). It cost 13 Euros, though, so I was kind of freaked about that. I tried to find affordable things, but Paris is a fricking expensive city.

I also had quite a nice conversation with Joanne over the meal. Apparently, we have a frighteningly large number of similarities: not only are our names Joanne C., but she is Asian (Korean), bookish (and bad at math to boot), a UC kid (LA), Protestant (Baptist), and uptight (according to a friend of hers, who bears a ridiculous resemblance to a friend of mine who made the same comment). We also wear thick black-framed glasses. I've found my twin! XD She looks nothing like me, though - she's got straight hair and typically Asian features, while I've got curly hair (no. really.) and looks that get me mistaken for Mexican or some other ethnicity not Filipino. However, when I tell people straightaway that I'm Filipino, they usually respond with "I thought so. I have a Filipino friend." (I don't really believe them. XD BTW, Madame Fabregat brought up "Mexican, Spanish, Italian?" when she asked my "origine," and didn't expect me to answer "Filipino.") After that, we went to the Eiffel Tower (yesssssssss) where I took the very first picture of myself in Paris - at the Eiffel Tower, doing my signature pose. JUST AS PLANNED! XD

After that, we crossed the bridge and walked along the quai for a bit (at which we got holla'd at by this skeezy dude - he looked OK enough but he tried to get our attention by "pssst"ing at us, which is skeezy to me. Christian, you'll be proud to know that neither Joanne looked back at him - we both knew what he was after and would not give him the satisfaction of a glance).

At the Place des Invalides, Joanne got kind of cold so I said ok, let's go back. Also, I had a seminar thingy in 30 minutes so we went back. After a lecture that I fell asleep during several times, there was a reception with wine (this is France, after all) and some other beverages. I had red wine (which I sipped at for an hour and discarded with 1/3 left in the glass... I still don't like red wine) and a Kir (creme de cassis and white wine... yum yum yum). Then the student body president gave a slightly tipsy speech ("Take advantage of us... in a good way, not in the bad way... but take advantage of Paris because there is so much to take advantage of..." etc., etc.) which was met with raucous cheering. So far, I like the slightly eccentric atmosphere of AUP - classes are held in these 100-year-old buildings, professors speak to you in highly informal language, the student advisors are VERY enthusiastic about their jobs, wine flows freely at student functions, there are a whole bunch of rich people running around, etc. It's kind of like Ouran, but in much smaller buildings. (The grandeur of the buildings, however, is not lost in the smaller scale. After all, this is Paris.) One friend called it "Camp Paris," and indeed, it does feel like that. I don't really feel like this is a school - it feels too fun and madcap to be one. After the reception came dinner with student advisors. My advisor, Jeff, took our group and another person's group to 7eme Sud, a Mediterranean restaurant off Rue de Grenelle. I had tagliatelle with smoked salmon and alfredo sauce (YUM YUM YUMMMMMMMM) and water (I had a bit of white wine, but I am still not used to the taste). It was nice and cosy, and the portions were HUGE by Paris standards. I hope I eat a bit less when I eat out here, cos if all the places were like this I'd never ever lose weight. Actually, Madame is trying to see to it that I don't. XD)

Then we went to the Freedom pub, an American pub (the irony of an American pub in Paris being named "Freedom" is not lost on me) off the Champs-Elysees. As with most things off the Champs-Elysees, it was expensive. (7 Euros for 50cl of beer?! That's like 11 dollars!) It was fun when it was just our two groups and some advisors, but then THE ENTIRE CROWD FROM THE RECEPTION came. It was HELLLLLLLA crowded. One bright spot, though, was the cute British bartender who gave my similarly cute friend (female), our other female friend, and me one free shot each (a 4 euro value) of caramel vodka. Yum (both to the shot and the boy). I definitely did NOT get drunk, though, as I was supposed to take the metro home by myself. I did (while desperately having to go to the bathroom because I had walked around for half an hour waiting for someone to go to the 16th arrondissement) and my anxiety/frustration was further exacerbated by my inability to open the door (I have a bizarre door system). After much deliberation, failed attempts and swallowing of pride, I knocked on Mme Fabregat's door. I expected to find her really, really pissed at being woken up, but while she was bleary-eyed she was much more patient with me than I had expected. I apologised profusely and she taught me how to open the door (which I have successfully done since). However, Abby (who is an indispensable liaison between Madame and me) revealed to me earlier this evening that Madame was upset because she thought I was drunk. As I have said before, I was very, very scared to get drunk and so I was not; as in many aspects of my life I was just very, very inept. We explained to her that I was not drunk (trying to help Abby, who had difficulty explaining in French, I used the term "bourree"; Madame was shocked that I knew this expression, as it seems to be very unladylike. In my defense, it was taught to me by a somewhat inebriated French boy in Santa Barbara on Halloween weekend) and so I hope everything is cleared up now.

AND THAT'S JUST THE FIRST FULL DAY. 0_0

TODAY, I woke up at noon, still thinking it was dark and that my phone was not on the right time (although it had adjusted automatically once I got to France); it was only my industrial-strength blinds. So I showered, ate breakfast, and missed a couple of sessions (which I can reschedule for the most part). The shower is kind of weird; it's a showerhead with a hose on it that doesn't have a hook to hang it, so I spent the entire shower session trying to balance the shower head on one arm while soaping up with the other. >_< Moreover, the shower only has a curtain and not a door, so I kind of got the floor wet. However, Madame had laid down both a towel and a bamboo mat, so it wasn't too disastrous. I fell asleep during lecture again (OHMYGOD) and later on got a sim card for my phone. (Since we got it unlocked in the Philippines, it now works everywhere in the world. YAAAAAAAAAAAY.) Then after taking a detour to the Eiffel Tower, my friend Serena and I parted ways at the Place du Trocadero to go to our respective domiciles. (She's still in a hotel.) Once at home, I met Marlene, Madame Fabregat's daughter; Abby, the girl who stayed with the Fabregats during fall quarter and is helping me settle into Paris; and Miriam, the lady upstairs who is hosting Abby for a week since I'm already here and Abby wanted to stay for a bit longer. Abby helped me with some issues, and afterwards came the long-anticipated and much-appreciated dinner. I had green beans ("haricots verts"), a fish filet, salad with lots of dressing (just the way I like it), and a baguette with cream cheese ("fromage blanc," Madame's favourite). After that came homemade chocolate cake (EEEEEEEEEEEEEE). Madame was glad to know that I ate well, because Marlene is very weight-conscious and is always complaining to her mother about her weight ("It's impossible to diet with all the food Maman cooks!" she says, according to Madame... I have to agree with Marlene there). Then, we watched TV: a bit of news, MTV's "Dismissed" (during which we both expressed how stupid the show was) and a sordid Mexican soap opera about killer women (also the title of the programme). This episode featured a restaurant keeper who cheated on her husband and killed the man who she cheated with after he wouldn't end the affair. She ended up strangling him, hacking him into pieces and making him into empanadas. (Very "Sweeney Todd," but without good songs, awesome puns about cannibalism, Johnny Depp, or Josh Groban. To which I say, "what's the fricking point?" XD)

Abby came down again to help me settle more (she really is a big help) and then we worked out rent and such. Madame is SO nice - not only did she refuse the security deposit, but she's also doing my laundry and planning to cook lots of food that I like since we have the same tastes (no pork, lots of seafood, lots of chocolate and LOTS of carbs). After the first few faux pas on my part (example: yesterday, when she smoked, I thought she was asking me whether I minded her smoking in the house, and when I said yes and tried to explain that my entire family had asthma, she put out the cigarette and later told Abby that it was quite insulting when I gently expressed my distaste for cigarette smoke) I am hoping that we will be OK; things are looking up because we ended on a good note tonight (she loved the postcards I bought, since she likes San Francisco, and the Chicago magnet I got her, because apparently she likes America quite a bit; she prefers American actors, movies and programs over French, and loves American-British musicians over French. Quite amusingly, she likes R&B; while she was cleaning the house yesterday, I heard the smooth sounds of Ne-Yo through the door. XD).

It's too early to tell, but I think I'm going to have fun in this homestay.

First Day in Paris

2008-01-12T23:08:00.000+01:00

I'm finally in Paris and it's great. I've seen the awesome architecture, and I TOTALLY geeked out at the sight of the Eiffel Tower. Specifically, I took as many pictures as I could whilst repeating OH GOD YES THIS IS AWESOME MAN THIS IS TOTALLY MY DAY.Today, I walked down the Champs-Elysees, took the metro (and saw a really really cute but aloof boy on board), had dinner with my student advisor and people from Vassar, NYU and Italy (I seemed to be the only UC kid under the care of this advisor), fell asleep several times during the fifteen-minute bus trip to the hotel (I GOT FIVE HOURS OF SLEEP IN THE PAST TWENTY-FOUR HOURS), held Euros for the first time in my life and now I have to get up at 6.45 AM to go to orientation tomorrow. >_< Good night.

So this is the new year

2008-01-01T20:19:00.000+01:00

First day of the year, first post in the blog. Hooray for beginnings.

For those of you tuning in, I'm Joanne (although most of you should probably know that by now, as I will probably have directed you to this blog to read about my adventures - or misadventures - studying abroad in France and beyond). At the beginning of this blog I am twenty years old. It is January 1, 2008, and I am leaving for Paris in ten days. I have been dreaming of this day since I was six years old, when my aunt Ruth came to America, took care of me for a while, and always told me stories about her years working in France.

If you know me personally, let me know if you want anything back from Europe.