woooooooooooooooow I forgot I had this account until I received an email reminding me that my auto renew was coming up. DAMN IT WHY AM I LIKE THIS

The past 7 months I’ve been living in the South of France teaching English to high school animals I mean, kids. My life has changed drastically and you know, now I’m wishing I had kept up with this freaking thing so I could look back and see all of the fuckery that went on. If I took pictures of my journal it’d essentially be what I would have written on here, I told you before if I’m going to write a blog its going to be 100% unfiltered flowing thoughts. I do use spellcheck though because poor grammar and spelling pisses me off. OYE VAY I literally don’t even know where to start. Well, first off, my French was a gajillion times worse than I could have ever expected. And people in Nice LOVE to remind none-French people that you are NOT FRENCH nor will you EVER BE EVER IN YOUR LIFE OK SO JUST STOP TRYING TO SAY PETIT DEJEUNER PUTAIN MERDE

so that was a rude wake up call and eventually (eventually meaning literally like 4 months in) I just had to be like the French and stop. giving. a fuck. They clearly don’t, so why should I? I straight up had an interaction at a Boulangerie where the lady was singing and like, humming to herself while she was ringing me up for my baguette, and I smiled and said “you’re a great singer”. This bitch goes blank stare– thrusts my baguette in my face and just stands there. Like wtf??? I realized very quickly that these people aren’t exactly rays of sunshine. They are actually quite the opposite. Now, now, I’m not saying ALL French people. but I’m definitely saying most. For some reason I remember the humans in Nice being a lot kinder when I was 16, but maybe that’s because I was 16 and was oblivious to what everyone was saying so I just naively assumed they were being nice. But now I am NOT mistaken, even if they do so happen to crack a smile, it doesn’t actually mean they are happy. Or that they like you. It’s very confusing. So you just really have to not give a fuck. Just do your shit and move along. I can’t really tell if it’s changed me. I am way more used to minding my own business after living here. In the states, I am one of those annoying people who usually chit chats it up with strangers. The French just do not do that. On a pos note, my apartment you guys…… it’s a fucking dream. a DREAM. The first day I woke up, jet lagged, extremely discombobulated, confused, shellshocked– I was basically like a little baby chick who was coming out of its egg for the first time. And holy shit was it bright. I had no clue how long I had slept, what time it was, and momentarily forgot that I had moved to a different fucking country. If there is a word that describes this feeling, please let me know, otherwise I will gladly come up with one. This flat has INSANE natural lighting. It’s fucking beautiful. I don’t know how I got so lucky. I usually wake up smiling. I know I knowww what you’re thinking, fuck you Jill. no one wakes up smiling.

 

Well I do 🙂 🙂 🙂 🙂 And if I told a French person that they’d probably slap me for being so happy. The teachers I’ve worked with this year are just hilarious. Not actually hilarious, the majority have absolutely no sense of humour whatsoever. To me, that in itself is fucking hilarious. It’s so *French*. It’s funny how different they all are from each other. And my individual relationship and dynamic varies with each one. I always felt like I was like a cartoon character to them or something. They always seemed mildly intrigued… and then progressively confused whenever I’d be talking about something. I should probably break this into more paragraphs but oh well this is literally just a trail of thoughts. Being exposed to the high schools in France makes me so thankful I grew up in America. I mean these kids don’t even get to have holiday parties. Thats fucked up! They don’t have school clubs, or yearbooks. It’s pretty fuckin bleak honestly. It was so cute, when I first started, every class would ask me if high school in America is like how it is in the movies. “Miss, did you go to prom?” “Were you a pom-pom girl?” Aghhhhh my heart!! But don’t worry guys, I brought the fun. Oooooh you bet your ass I did. I was the fun and bubbly American assistant whom they all adored. That which all the other boring, crusty teachers despised, because, oh I don’t know why, I displayed affections of emotion, encouraged them and actually asked the kids how their day was. It was a bizarre energy, for sure, but one that I just had to ignore. I wasn’t there for these other teachers, I was there to teach and inspire the kids and to build relationships with the English teachers I worked directly with. I am really tired I took a Benadryl like an hour ago and my eyes are closing but I promise I will continue on with this. Phewwww damn if you even got this far, bravo. Gold star

BON SOIR!! xo