french – Page 3 – Darkk Horse Travel

Solitude & Surrender

Published on March 10, 2015 by EmileeLeave a comment

I was Facebook messaging a friend this past week when the topic of the two of us having millennial long conversations, when I get back to Seattle, came up. See, this particular friend is quite special in that she and I have (more than once) spent most of the night talking about nothing, and after a year – there will be a lot more than a little something to talk about upon my arrival back in Seattle.

But, as we were messaging, I had a thought that I really hadn’t considered before: When was the last time I had talked to someone?
You know, like not a “hello” or talking about work, or being afraid you’re keeping someone up due to the time difference, or being told that one of the kids might be sick so watch out for vomit when you pick him up from school – but actually TALKED to someone.

You know, like sit down and talk about how you’re actually doing, opening up and fully “talking.”

I realized it had been a while.

Don’t get me wrong, I have awesome friends in France (and duh, we talk), but the reality is that I’ve spent more time alone over the past 7 months than I ever have before. I know, I know, all of you extroverts are yelling at the top of your cyber lungs that I need to go out and party more, MEET PEOPLE! And all of you introverts are thinking, “Wow, I could use some of that. Alone time sounds blissful.”

But I don’t think it’s as easy (or fair) to chalk this occupational hazard/perk to strictly being a “bad” or a “good” thing. There are both benefits and detriments to having so much time with myself. For one thing, me and myself know each other quite well, now (please read that in as sane a context as possible).

The reason being that when you have a lot of time to yourself, you have to face your good and your bad, your greatest accomplishments and your biggest fears. In those times of silence you have to find balance with yourself because there is no one else to help you. And you have to make real actual decisions, rather than burying holes to “deal with them later.” In short, you have to get to know yourself.

And let me tell you, it’s not always comfortable.

But facing your fears, anxieties and inhibitions never is – and, of course, it’s something we all must (or, at least, should do at one point or another. So whilst I’ve away in France, I figure, now is as good a time as any to get some of these insecurities out of the way.

Exhibit A:

I remember writing a post a while back about how I “couldn’t draw” (the reason being that I never felt that I could be good enough to even try, since my older brother is the superior artist in the family).

Well I’m facing that demon, and I’ve been forcing myself to draw every day for the past (almost) month. And you know what? I’ve discovered something that I never never never never thought I would: I really like drawing.

I’ve also discovered that being committed to doing something every day doesn’t mean you won’t feel so nervous you’re shaking, when you start a project, or that you won’t feel like throwing up when you show people the finished product – convinced they’ll spot every flaw your own eye is magnifying x1000.

But I’ve always liked to think that an artist isn’t someone who is somehow superior in the arts to the rest of humanity, but just someone who has learned to push past those specific demons and create despite their taunting inner voices.

Because, when it comes down to it, I think some of the biggest battles we face in the journey to creating ourselves, are the seemingly invisible and silent ones trapped within our own minds. And over these past months, I’ve begun to learn what it means to challenge the things that I‘ve had holding me back.

In the silence I’ve found strength.

These past 7 months have proved to be a time of more battles than I ever thought I could face. Now, looking back to the person who stepped on the plane to France, I feel like I was a hundred years younger; again, a good and bad thing.

But, if I had to assign one word to the past months, it wouldn’t be a negative one (compared to a couple months ago, since my life literally felt like it was going up in flames). But, instead, one that I’ve felt like God has been whispering over my life the past few weeks, specifically: Surrender.

Now don’t get this wrong – surrendering, in this case, does not mean giving up on a mission. It doesn’t mean stepping away from the cause, or breaking down.

If anything, it means the exact opposite.

It means realizing that I have something to fight for that is bigger than myself; and that I have people around me to help me along the way. It’s completely out of my nature (and SO hard) to admit that I ever need help. Help has always equated to weakness in my past.

But it has been such a journey the past months to see how weakness is not what has been shown through the actions of others, but how incredibly strong I am because of the people who have held me up in my times of need. And beyond that, a heavenly Father who hasn’t left me at any point along the way.

Life has not turned out as I expected. Things have not gone the way that I wanted them to, or that I planned them to. But that’s okay. And realizing that has been a journey of its own. But I know there’s a greater purpose for the fire that refines us.

And even though it’s not always the easiest or the most convenient, sometimes the thing we need to hear the most, in the silence, is the whisper of our Creator to take courage, and to keep moving forward.

Review: Cafe De La Place Talloirres

Published on February 25, 2015April 11, 2015 by EmileeLeave a comment

10487181_10205235233973808_8195224856455238382_n — Location: Tailloires, France

On our way to the ski resort, last weekend, we stopped in this little restaurant which was just so incredible that I had to share. I’ll be honest – at first I was pretty skeptical. When we first pulled up, the building seemed small and not as overbearingly fancy as restaurants in Paris (when did I become such a snob, huh?).

But a good restaurant mainly needs good food and good service, and this was a great example of how you should never judge a book (or restaurant) by it’s cover. Details:

When we went: February 21st, 2015

Who I went with: My au pair mom and host brother

What I ordered: Traditional French Stew

Wifi: Yes. Just ask!

Like I said, this little restaurant is known for having amazing food, but what I loved even more was the ambiance of the place. It’s a mixture of the vibe of an indie coffee shop with the food of an upscale restaurant.

My meal was a traditional French stew, which wasn’t really a stew (by American standards) at all. It was more of a pot roast, but the meat was cooked to absolute perfection, falling apart beautifully. My au pair mom ordered a rabbit dish, which meant that I got to taste rabbit for the first time! I honestly was terrified, but it turned out to pretty much taste like a tougher version of chicken. Not that exciting. My host brother ordered the classic steak tartare and fries, which was masterfully and beautifully mixed and presented in front of us. It was pretty incredible how fast our waiter mixed together eight different ingredients with exact (and very French) precision, while we were all sitting there, watching. I felt the need to clap when he was done, but apparently it’s more French so simply smile and nod at the waiter.

Overall great experience, buzzing vibe and our waiters and service was lovely. Definitely a recommendation if you’re in the area!

P.s. This place wins for coolest business cards!

Seeking A Friend For The End Of The World

Published on February 24, 2015February 24, 2015 by Emilee1 Comment

Tonight, when I first sat down to write a blog post, I thought I would be writing about the adventures I’m having right now while on holiday. I thought I would tell you guys all about the wonders of being in snow-covered mountains, or about how beautiful today was. But when I sat down at my computer, staring at the blank white document page, all I could think about was home.

You’ve all heard of homesickness before, and I know it’s not the first time I’ve written about it on my blog, but it wasn’t really on that level that I was thinking. Being in a ski resort there is beauty all around me: beautiful mountains, beautiful snow, beautiful shops and buildings. But what I find the most beautiful are the people. See, normally people come to resorts with their closest friends, family etc. so the relationships that you get to see around you are ones built on familiarity – something I can barely remember the taste of.

Today I was walking around some of the streets and I couldn’t help but think about the people I would bring here, were it up to me. Who would be among my crew of miscreants? Who would I be walking these streets with?

Moving away from your country can leave a pretty colossal hole in your heart. While I know there are some people who move and never want to return, that hasn’t been the case for me. In fact, I think it has been the exact opposite experience. Note: This does not mean I hate my life, I’m not having fun or that I want to run away.

Having lived these past six months in France has really taught me a lot about the people in my life, though. I’ve ranted and raved about my friends, before. But I think I’m starting to understand just how lucky I truly am. When I think back over the past six months I can say with certainty that, without these beautiful people, I wouldn’t have made it.

True and honest friendship is not something you encounter every day, although there are many impersonations of it. But, you see, friendship isn’t about the people who smile and ask you how your day was every time you see them. Anyone can ask you questions. It’s about the people who are actually listening when you answer – the people who aren’t looking over your shoulder for the next person to talk to. Friendship is about people caring because actually do, not because they feel like they’re under obligation to. And it took me most of my life to stop settling for the latter version.

But somehow, though the past few years, I seem to have won the lottery when it comes to friends. I have the absolute best support system a girl could ask for, but I’m okay admitting I took it for granted when I was living a phone call away from them.

And now, living a galaxy away, we can’t phone call. Now we have to strategically adjust and stretch our schedules just to talk for a precious hour between time zones. Now we have to sit down and take the time to write letters and then mail them. We have to work for our friendship, and the reality is that it isn’t always convenient.

Which is why I know how lucky I am.

When I first moved to France the biggest fear I had was of being forgotten. I know that sounds kind of weird, but it has been a really real fear throughout his whole process. Would people remember who I was? Would they see me again after a year and see a friend or a stranger? The reality is that either is possible. Some friendships are tested and don’t make it.

But some do.

And to those of you who have sacrificed time, effort, postage and kind words to help me through this wild adventure I’m on, I want to say a sincere “thank you.” I love you guys, and you will probably never know how much these “little” things mean to me.

This crazy thing called my current life would never have been able to be possible without you all! And throughout the shifting, stretching, crazy, awkward, ridiculously miraculous adventure, I finally understand how rich my life truly is. The beauty that is you people is just so much bigger than I ever could have imagined.

And while homesick is a feeling I’m more than a little familiar with, that’s not how I feel right now. I feel blessed. I feel overwhelmed by the people who have worked so hard to support and love me, even from 5000 miles away.

I’m the luckiest girl alive and I don’t think I ever fully realized it before.

Thank you all so much, and enormous hugs! We’re gonna do this thing together: Walk, run or crawl.

Thank you for being there to support me, all the way to the finish line.

An Hour Of Wolves, And Shattered Shields

Published on February 20, 2015February 20, 2015 by Emilee3 Comments

Happy Lent, everyone! For all of you who are observing it, stick in there – it WILL be worth it! For those of you who aren’t, have fun watching us for the next 40 days.

For those of you who aren’t of the Christian persuasion, I guess I should probably tell you about Lent.

“Ok, Google – cheat for me:”

Lent is a 40-day period of preparation for Easter Sunday and one of the major liturgical seasons of the Church. A penitential season marked by prayer, fasting and abstinence, and almsgiving, Lent begins on either Ash Wednesday (for Latin Rite Catholics and those Protestants who observe Lent) or Clean Monday (for Eastern Rite Catholics and Eastern Orthodox) and ends on either Holy Thursday or Holy Saturday.

Lent comes in many different forms. Some people give up food as a community, some people fast (or give up) things they feel like they’re placing before their spiritual lives (maybe you’ve seen some people bowing off social media) and others do none of the above. Like me.

To clarify – yes, I am fasting. But this year I felt like I needed to do something a little different.

Enter dramatic pause

So, I’ve decided to do a 40 day negativity fast (#notreallyworthadramaticpause).

Rather than Googling what this “means” I’ll tell you what it means to me.

The Bible has a lot to say about how Christians interact with the world around them. There are verses about loving, about caring, about serving – and then the ones we’re not quite as eager to discuss: The ones about turning the other cheek.

This is not a green light for people to come and punch me in the face, because for the next 40 days I won’t punch you back. I will punch you back.

What I’m talking about is on a spiritual level.

See, I’m a fighter by nature.
When I was little, more than anything, I wanted to be an Amazon woman (thanks for the documentary, PBS). I wanted to fight in battles, and conquer kingdoms and learn epic archery skills (the last of which I did start). I wanted to fight. I’ve always wanted to fight.

And it took me a really long time, as Christian, to realize that’s okay.

I think a common misconception about Christianity is that women are supposed to be these meek and gentle creatures sitting in the corner knitting.

And while I do knit, and I love its cathartic values, that’s not my idea of the life of faith for a woman.

NOTE: Being meek, gentle and sweet are NOT bad things, for those who are naturally that way.

But I’m not.

I’ve always preferred to think of myself as someone who follows more the example of the biblical Deborah. For those of you who don’t know the story, think badass awesome chick who leads armies and generally dominates at life, because men aren’t stepping up to the plate. (Judges 4)

But something to remember, even for us fighters, is that there are times when you need to find peace in the uncomfortable places or times God calls you to. Sometimes, we reach a season of needing to learn trust.

“The LORD will fight for you; you need only to be still.” Exodus 14:14

A great, totally hypothetical, example of this is when you’re, I don’t know – living in a foreign place, and being COMPLETELY out of your comfort zone. Exhibit A: My life.

For me, natural instinct says to kick and scream and punch people (metaphorically) – but God tells me to rest.

So I sit.

I “rest”.

I pout.

I complain.

*For the record, sitting in a corner complaining isn’t finding rest in a situation.

France has been hard, harder than I ever could have imagined. But it’s in this place that God has told me, for now, to rest. And over the past few months I have been doing the very minimal value of that.

More than anything I’ve been complaining, I’ve been self-pitying and I’ve been finding every excuse to sit on my bible, rather than read it. Because, hey – I’ve been through a lot (factual). I deserve to be able to curl up in a ball and listen to angsty music!

But if God wanted me to listen to angsty music for a year, I think he would have given me a time machine back to my high school self, not told me to move 5000 miles away from home.

So, with this in mind, I’ve decided to dedicate my Lent period of time to fixing the deep seeded problem that has become my perspective on my life.

Where there is self-pity, I will look to serve others.

Where there is anger, I’m seeking peace and self-reconciliation.

When I want to outwardly project my fears and insecurities, I will take them instead, and leave them at the feet of my Saviour.

Where there is doubt, I’m remembering the promises that brought me to this place.

And where there is winey-ass (sorry mom) me, I will remember that there is purpose to every breath I am given.

Lent started on Wednesday, so I’m only a few days in, but I can already tell you one thing – it IS NOT easy. Human nature wants to complain. Why? Because, to be honest, it feels good. And it’s societally acceptable. Just look at how many social media outlets we’re given to FML our lives.

But my challenge, over the next month is to remember where I came from, and who fought on my behalf to bring me here.

It wasn’t by accident that I landed in Paris for a year – no one accidently lands in Paris for a year. This year was a pretty hefty detour from what I had “planned”, but that doesn’t mean I’m not on the path I’m supposed to be on.

So, join me, will you? Let’s strive to look at our lives and the world around us with a different lens. Let’s begin to uncover and unmask the places in our hearts that have brought us into areas of complaint, instead of action. And most of all – let’s fight a good fight.

Café Review: Coutume

Published on February 17, 2015April 11, 2015 by Emilee3 Comments

I went to this café called Coutume last week and I really loved the experience! I thought I would let people (especially English speakers) know about it, because there have been a lot of less than desirable experiences with Paris establishments, so this one really stood out! First off – the details:

When: February 13th, 2015 – We went early in the morning, around 10:30am.

Who: With two other friends (One American, One English)

So, we walked into this cafe not knowing what to expect, and the thing that I noticed right away was that people were speaking English! In fact, ALL the baristas were speaking English! If you’ve been to Paris before, you’ll understand what a phenomena this is.

We were immediately greeted, seated and chose our drinks. I later got breakfast too – I will say, per usual “pancakes” aren’t really pancakes, more compact and dense, but still good. The overall atmosphere reminded me a lot of Seattle in that it was edgy, relaxed, artistic, earthy and everything a café should be (in my opinion, of course).

Our baristas were cheeky, hilarious and so nice! They gave us such a fun experience and helped us find things on the menu etc. Overall, such a great experience!

Oh, and they have WIFI (again, if you’ve been to Paris – not the same as in the U.S.)!!

5 Things I’m Happy I Paid Extra For

Published on February 14, 2015 by Emilee7 Comments

If you like to travel smart, like I do (aka with basically no money) then you probably want to be smart about the little “extras” you buy when you travel. It can be really hard to know what you should pay the additional price for when you’re out traveling the world, so I thought I would let you all in on some of the little somethings that I paid extra for, and that I didn’t regret! Ok, ready? Let’s go!

Walking Tour, Berlin:

This was the highlight of my Berlin trip. Since I was traveling in an off season it was just me, one other girl and our Australian tour guide, who was amazing. The tour I took was about the Nazzi regime in Berlin, and was fascinating. I don’t know how my tour guide remembered all of the 3 HOURS worth of information, but he did. He also was the one who clued me in on the football match happening the next day, for which I am forever grateful. I just never would have known the history around the city without taking this tour, and I’m so happy I decided to do it! Oh, and the tour was FREE! (But, of course, you can tip your tour guide) Look for the blue umbrella!

Headset, Van Gogh & Ruks Museum, Amsterdam:

I normally don’t pay the additional 5 or 10 euro to pay for the headsets at museums, but I decided to “splurge” while I was in Amsterdam, and I paid for them in 2 museums. I was SO happy I did. Mainly because when you’re in a museum like the Van Gogh Museum you really need (I think) to know the stories behind many of his paintings. I feel like I know Van Gogh so much more, now, having heard about the inspiration behind his works and the beautiful paintings that he created.

CitySightSeeing, Ride around London, London

The first day I was in London I was handed a pamphlet from the “Original Sightseeing Company.” I didn’t think much of it, but then I read that they were having a sale so I decided to buy a weekend (3 day) pass. SUCH A GOOD IDEA. The buses were hop-on-hop-off so I could catch them all over the city, meaning I used them for sightseeing and for regular transportation, too. I learned so much more about the city, and it was a great way to still be around people, while traveling alone. (It also came with a river tour ride – all for 25 pounds!)

Sail and Rail Pass, N. Ireland, Ireland, Scotland, England:

Rather than just fly from place to place I like to see if I can find trains or boats, or other modes of transportation that allow me to see the countries I’m traveling through. Sail and Rail is a great option when going around the UK/Ireland because for one ticket you get all the different modes of transportation covered (whether that’s bus, train or ferry). Also the ferries from N. Ireland to Scotland are beautiful.

French lessons before moving to France:

This is a little different from the others, but I still really think it’s important to put on here. I DO NOT know what I would have done without my French tutor before coming to France. I probably would have died. I had a really great teacher, so make sure you find the right one, but it was invaluable to pay for lessons before moving here. While I had taken years of French lessons, I hadn’t said a word in French for so long that it was really important to be able to work with someone who was French and brush up.

Oceans

Published on February 12, 2015February 12, 2015 by EmileeLeave a comment

On the way back from school today, I was walking with my two youngest boys, and we came to a crosswalk. We stopped, looked both ways, and I stepped out first with them following. While they happily scampered across the street a car came speeding down the road, slamming on its brakes last minute when it saw me there, standing in the center of the crosswalk waiting for my kids to get across. I eyed the driver defiantly; because do or die, I was not moving until my kids were safe.

This isn’t the first, or the last, time that something like this has/will happened. As an au pair it’s my job to protect and take care of my kids and that’s what I do, even if it means risking my own safety in the effort. First and foremost it’s my job to make sure they come home safe and sound at the end of the day.

But, you know what? They don’t know that. In fact, I would go as far to say they don’t have a clue.
Sure they know I feed them, and pick them up from school, and that I take them to the park. But while they’re happily crossing streets, they have no idea there are cars narrowly missing them. And that’s okay. They’re kids and being oblivious to adult responsibilities is part of the package deal.

Today, though, I started thinking about how I cross my own streets in life, all the time, with God standing guard. I am the kid walking across with little to no idea of the protective measures going on around me.

The only difference is that my crosswalks are life choices – things that might seem scary or unknown, or downright insane. The other side of the road doesn’t always look like a nice and visible place to be. I get distracted by the fact that I can’t see what’s on the other side, or that I’m crossing alone and no one else seems to be walking in the same direction; I get nervous because I don’t have a plan after I cross, I don’t know who or what I will become when I reach that point – and that is terrifying. All I can think about is the other side of the street, but if only I would take the time to see the protecting guidance of my Father I would know better than to fear.

Lately I’ve had a lot of people ask me what it’s like to be an au pair. People have sent me messages saying they’ve thought about doing it, and they want to know if I think they should. I’ve been really careful replying to these messages, because I know giving “advice” on life altering decisions is very serious. And being an au pair IS a life altering decision. You will not come back the same.

And I don’t mean that solely in a, “you’ll have such a larger perspective of the world” way. Yes, you will gain amazing skills such as viewing people different from yourself, new friends and experiences and most likely have a more open mind. BUT you will also have battle scars and wounds from your time abroad. You will have situations that you wish you could have avoided, and problems you never thought you would overcome.

You’ll probably spend time crying – a LOT of time crying. You’ll wonder what the hell you’re doing there. You’ll feel like you’re wasting valuable time in your life, and that you could be doing something more significant. You’ll feel like you’re suffocating, like if you missed places and people any more your heart would implode.

That. That is what it means to be an au pair. And I don’t want to mislead anyone into thinking that you won’t feel like giving up on a regular basis. Because the reality is, it’s an extremely “unnatural” feeling to be living in a stranger’s house in a strange land with strange surroundings and nothing and no one familiar in immediate reach during your rough moments.
You don’t get to go home and vent after work – your home is your work. You don’t get sick days to stay home and marathon Netflix, you go to work every day, regardless of your state of health. Your schedule is not your own, you get woken up by screaming children and have to be quiet at night so you don’t wake them. Sometimes you’ll wonder if it’s worth it – or whether you should crank your music so loud the walls shake just so you’ll remember that you are there. And you are. Even though sometimes it feels like you’ve melted into an emotional pot the family has forgotten to stir – some kind of strange substance floating on the surface.

Let’s face it, sometimes a lot of the time you will want to give up. A lot of time I want to give up.

But I was raised to keep running a race until I reached the finish line. Whether I have to run, walk, limp or crawl there – I will cross it, and hold my head high.

Being an au pair is hard; it has stretched me in ways that I never knew I could be stretched. It has emboldened me in ways I never thought possible, and it has cut into my heart, replacing pieces I never wanted to admit were rotting. I’ve overcome things that I never would wish for anyone else to experience, stories I’ll never tell to anyone but those who are closest to me.

It has been painful and difficult and crazy and confusing.

But every now and then I’ll catch a glimmer. A faint light shining amidst the chaos that this life brings, and I’ll remember; the life I was called to, to run a good race, to push forward even when absolutely everything is pushing me back. I’ll remember that even the darkest rainstorms result in beautiful color pallets painting the skies.

And maybe that’s what this season is about. It’s a season of stretching. A season of building the muscles that will carry me across steeper roads, higher mountains and deeper canyons.

It’s not easy. Not one day since I’ve been here has been easy. But there have been times when I’ve smiled more genuinely than I think I ever have before. And I guess that is what truly marks a great adventure. Not that it’s a leisurely stroll. But that it’s a trek that leaves you scratched up, worn out and ready to drop at the end – but with an overwhelming sense of accomplishment.

We did it.

None of us leave this life unscathed or unaltered. The real question is whether the wounds we acquire have stories that are worth telling for generations.

Airport Journal: Galway, Ireland

Published on January 23, 2015February 9, 2015 by EmileeLeave a comment

No matter how early I plan to leave the house, somehow I always end up running for some mode of transportation. But today it wasn’t my fault. Really. I got up on time, I was at the door on time – but then I opened it. Huge white flakes were falling from the sky. They fell a little too fast, since it wasn’t quite cold enough to snow; only half of them surviving long enough to cover the ground in a thin sheet of almost white. Snow. I finally saw Paris in the snow.

It would have been a lot more exciting had I not realized that I wasn’t dresses for snow – but was venturing out in it, nonetheless. The reasons for my negligence mainly being because it wasn’t in the forecast, and then also just because who dresses for snow while traveling for a mini vacation to Ireland? Umbrella. I needed an umbrella. And as I fumbled my way through the house, I could not for the life of me, find one. WHERE WAS MY UMBRELLA?!

Ok, so maybe it was kind of my fault, because 8 minutes is a rather long time to look for an umbrella, when you’re supposed to be in a “rush.” But I finally found it!! And then it was a run/half skid effort down the hill to the train station. The scanner on the stop said 28 minutes until the next train, which meant I had just missed the train. But, wait. I was 3 minutes early! I prayed it was wrong because, if not, I was cutting it deadly close for catching a connecting metro and, ultimately, the bus to the airport. (A funny story about the airport I’m flying out of, I’ll tell you another time.)

I don’t think I’ve mentioned before how I’m getting to Galway, Ireland. Allow me to do so, now:

Walk ->Train -> Metro -> Bus -> Plane -> Bus -> Stay 24 Hours -> Bus -> Plane -> Bus -> Metro -> Train -> Walk

I know. I got a headache just typing that. But amazingly, with all that, it’s still cheaper than flying direct just to Dublin. Which is cool, because I’d rather go to a city I haven’t been to, before, and I like the idea of taking a bus ride across Ireland on a sunny (albeit cold) Saturday.

Also, the sea. I can not wait until I’m by the sea. Living in land-locked Paris has been slowly draining my soul. I need to be by the salt water air to feel whole. I need to hear waves, and see seagulls flying overhead. Also, I just really miss speaking English and eating fish and chips. Real talk.

So I’m on my way! I’m so excited, even though I’m only halfway through my journey there, right now. Here’s to weekend adventures!

The Breakup

Published on January 22, 2015January 21, 2015 by Emilee5 Comments

This week marks 5 months of me living in France, and I can hardly believe that it has gone by so quickly! I know that’s probably somewhat of a standard thing to say, but I really just cannot believe how much has happened in such a short amount of time. It simultaneously feels like 5 weeks and 5 years.

As a marker stone for this anniversary of my life in France, I thought I would think back to what I missed from life before living here. The answer: Everything. So then I thought it would be BETTER to think about the things that I didn’t really miss. That worked a lot better.

The biggest thing I don’t miss is my Netflix account. I know, shun me. But it’s the truth! I thought I would die without it, but honestly, I was using it most of the time to watch things I didn’t actually want to watch and to fill in the void of exhaustion that I would have after work. There wasn’t much “fruit” growing out of this part of my life. Oh, and Hulu got the boot too. The reason was mainly financial that I cut the cord on my Netflix relationship. It really wasn’t them, it was me. As an au pair I make next to nothing, after student loans etc., so I decided to cut all unnecessary costs. It was a really hard decision, to be honest, but in the end I knew it was worth it. You don’t really think about Nextflix/Hulu as costing money, but after a year it’s almost $250 I was spending. Crazy.

Obviously I realize this breakup isn’t for everyone. But I’ve noticed myself being so much more intellectual in the spare time that I now have. If I’m bored, and want to watch something, I go on PBS (free) and stream a documentary or Downton Abbey, or something that I actually want to watch (unlike Bronies). It turns out I don’t need 500 movie options to choose from every night, and the act of actually picking a movie is so much more enjoyable because I CHOOSE the movie. It’s not the suggestion of a suggestion of a suggestion of an algorithm of a choice I made three years ago. Not to say there aren’t good things to watch on Netflix, just that I don’t need access to all of them to stay happy.

My second breakup was with my smartphone. Although I do still use it for keeping in touch with awesome people from home (when I have wifi) I bought a little prepaid phone and (GUESS WHAT!?) it works just fine for making phone calls/texts. While I do like the idea of having information constantly graspable, I’ve realized that it’s kind of cool not to always be checking notifications, but instead be checking what my kids were doing at the park.

Instead of bringing my iPhone, I bring my sketchbook, or my knitting, or a book to read when I go out. I read on the metro, or just sit there silently (or as silently as one possibly can sit on the Paris Metro). It’s amazing how undervalued silence is. My brain goes absolutely wild. I come up with some of my best ideas while catching the mostly empty metro to church on Sunday mornings. I find myself sketching randomness when I’m waiting for my kids to finish piano lessons or PE and then realize: Wait. I DREW that! I finish books I’ve wanted to read for forever and I come up with designs and ideas on how to fix problems. If I have my iPhone out at all it’s because I’m using notepad to write down all of the ideas that are pouring out of my mind.

Next on the kick list, and this one kind of breaks my heart, is fashion. I’ve bought only basics and accessories, like scarves, since I’ve lived here (I think I might have bought a pair of shoes and a coat at some point) and that’s pretty much it. It was really hard at first, because I LOVE fashion and I love being able to keep up with trends, but something I’ve learned (which is oh so French) is that minimalism is okay. I have one pair of American made, sturdy leather boots and they work great for every day basically. Amazingly, I don’t need 25 sweaters and 200 pairs of shoes. Instead I mix up accessories and play with different makeup choices. It’s actually a lot more fun, and still keeps me on my toes in the fashion arena.

And lastly I’ve broken up with waste food. I would call it junk food, but I honestly feel like “waste” is a better word because of how much of a waste it is to my potential. A few months ago I joined this healthy eating/living group and it has been so great. We’re able to keep each other accountable and really push ourselves to work out, or to eat healthy meals. When I first arrived in this house there was so much junk food it was incredible, but after living here for only a few months I see a difference in the way me and my kids eat. Even the parents are climbing onboard!

The result of getting rid of these (and more) unnecessary things has allowed for a kind of renaissance in my creative life. AKA: my mind feels like it’s going to explode all the time. I have too many ideas, not enough time. I have so many projects I want to start, so many things I want to make and create. It’s like the past few years my mind has been storing ideas and suddenly the dam has been breached.

It’s both glorious and mildly terrifying, mainly because I don’t really sleep anymore. But at the same time, it’s incredibly liberating. And I can’t help but wonder: How much more would have been stuck in my mind had I not decided to take a step back from some unhealthily dependent relationships?

Amsterdam 2015

Published on January 21, 2015January 20, 2015 by EmileeLeave a comment

A couple of weekends ago (time flies!) I went to Amsterdam. It was cold and rainy and wet, but I managed to catch some sun breaks, hit up some museums and have an overall good time. Not my favorite city I’ve been to, but there was something magical about the architecture of it. I love the history, too! But that’s a given with any city that I travel to. On to the next weekend adventure!