November!!

With each day comes new challenges. Right when I think I am finally getting the hang of something, BOOM! My bubble gets bursted and I come tumbling all the way back down to reality. Ouch. I have other days when I feel like I am walking on air. Days when I dance all the way home. Days when I feel included, when I feel known.

School recently let out for ten days and we all got a much needed break. For the past two months I have been walking home each day for lunch and then walking backing to school for afternoon classes. This became a little ridiculous on the days that I only have an hour for lunch, so I decided to eat at the cafeteria three out of five days of the week. My first day back after the vacation, I was terrified. I had gotten comfortable not going to school, sleeping in, spending time with my family, Paris. All my fears and bad memories of the last few weeks of October has only gotten worse. The night before school started up again, I tried to get some rest, but I woke up every single hour. My nerves were going insane. First morning that I didn't need an alarm. I jumped right out of bed . . . obviously something wasn't right. That never happens. Most mornings consist of my sister running up to my room at 740 to come wake me up because I had decided to 'just close my eyes for a few minutes' and slept for an extra hour. Whoopsies. That must be genetic. 

Back to lunch. I was so nervous. I was actually wishing history class wouldn't end. I mean, yes, it is extremely fascinating to learn about the 'real' frontiers of Europe and all about why it is the biggest and the best, but most days I'm counting down the minutes until the bell rings. Lunch. I kept having those visions flash in my mind: new girl, sitting all by herself, doing everything wrong. Shit. I honestly didn't even have a clue where the cafeteria was located. I asked my friends if they were eating lunch at school, explained that I had no idea where to even begin. They happily took me along and showed my the ropes: wait in a giant mob of people for a good thirty minutes, slide a lunch card through the slot face up and make sure to get it right the first time, so the people behind you don't run you over, take a tray, teeny ting glass for water, silverware, choose a dessert (yogurt, cheese, pudding, cookies, or a pastry), main course dish, an appetizer, and of course, baguette. It's pre-sliced and most kids stack six or seven pieces onto their plates.

It was so bizarre for me to be eating at a cafeteria. I have solely been eating in an environment where the people around me always finish everything on their plates. Mainly because mom said so. At home I'm learning lots of sentences like 'Tu m'énerve!' and 'Manges ta soupe ou tu sorts la table!', which literally translate to 'you annoy me' and 'eat your soup or you leave the table'. I had forgotten that cafeterias are a place of rebellion. You can eat whatever the hell you want. No need to finish your veggies. If I wanted I could only eat dessert and bread, which is actually what most kids do anyway. Not half bad.

On to other frightening subjects. I gave a fifteen minute presentation in French class last week. Correction: I tried to give a fifteen minute presentation in French class last week. For the past month I had been reading L'Etranger by Camus. I wrote an essay (in pen and all) including a biography, summary, and explanation of the philosophy: the absurd. Now my teacher wanted me to five a presentation, orally, in front of my thirty classmates, speaking, out loud, in French. Cool. You will happy to hear I haven't changed one bit; I managed to procrastinate until the very last possible second to prepare my presentation and Carole had to stay up way too late helping me. Next time, I'm going to start much earlier and no, I do not always say that. All day people in my class were asking me if I was ready with big smiles on their faces. 'Non, pas de tout' I replied, returning the smile. My friends read my notes, making little corrections here and there and insisting on mocking my accent for a nice, long twenty minutes. So fun. It actually made me feel better knowing everyone wasn't expecting perfection. I walked to the front of class, greeted them with 'Bonjour, madames et messieurs' which made them all laugh and broke some of the ice. Nervous as hell I stumbled through the first few phrases and was then horrified when my teacher interrupted me and told the class they needed to be taking notes. Shocking, really. Well, now I have everyone's full attention to catch all of my mistakes. How lovely.

No matter the language, giving presentations are always hard at school. It's a viscous cycle. One tries very hard not to read off the paper and to really speak to the class, but looking at the class's bored (and in my case, extremely confused) faces always leads to feeling oh so very awkward and looking back down at the paper. Luckily, I distracted myself by focusing mainly on the pronunciation of words and punctuation, in desperate hopes it would help people understand some of what I was rambling on about. And after a few painful questions of which I had no idea how to answer in French, I was done. What a fun day.