Montréal, Je t'adore

Bonjour mes amis,

As each day passes, I get that much closer to being able to move to Montréal and hopefully attend McGill University. The closer I get to being in Montréal, the more anxious I get and the more I desire to go! I've been keeping an eye out for things about it for a while now, including regularly checking The Montréal Buzz, reading Montreal 24, listening to la Radio-Canada, and *gasp* paying attention in U.S. History whenever Québec is mentioned. It always catches my attention when people mention Montréal or Québec, and it's probably the lone reason I ever go watch the news.

Finally, today when I was driving home, it hit me. I have these wonderful flowery dreams about the things I want to do with my life... but generally, they don't come true. But today? Today it hit me; I realized I am going to Montréal. I am. Me, Delphine Chevalier, the secret rebel who's always been afraid to do what she wants, is going to Montréal for college. I'm so excited. It's like when you get told something and you're in that initial "OH MY GOD THAT'S SO AMAZING!!" stage but you're still kind of experiencing the shock, and then the shock goes away so all that's left is "OH MY GOD THAT'S SO AMAZING!!"

Accompanying the realization that I'm going to be moving over a thousand miles away and into a different country, of course, came the realization that I'll be moving away from all of my friends and family. Another thing that I realized, though, is that not only do I know I can manage moving, as I've done it before, but this time it won't be as bad. Back when I moved to my mother's house for the first time, I felt alone in this world. I was hardly speaking with my father, my sister was out of the house, I didn't like my brother, my half brother was always out partying, and I didn't have that close relationship with my mother. Not to mention after dealing with some serious family issues for a few years, I had little to no self esteem and thus felt I had no friends (although that wasn't true). This time, I know that no matter how far I go, I have a mother, a father, a step-father, three protective older siblings, one little sibling that looks up to me, and loads of friends that love me. I also know that he will be there with me, and that alone is more than enough to get me through any difficulties my new life throws my way. No matter how hard things get, he always seems to make it better.

I'm not the type of person to shy away from my goals just because I know it will be hard. Usually it just makes me want to accomplish them more. When it comes to Montréal, this proves no different, because I know it will be worth it in the end and I'll learn so much from it.

But now I must return to reading two chapters of U.S. History, the lesson on the War of 1812 and writing about it, completing an entire English project on my own, and three or four math assignments. The scary part? I'm looking forward to it because I know it will lead to McGill, and thus, Montréal.

À demain,

Mlle Delphine

Update: Studying in Québec

Bonjour mes amis!

I've already made it quite known on my blog that I really want to go to Québec for college (here was me excitedly talking about it if you missed that post) so this is sort of a little update as to how things are going.

The more and more I think about it, the more and more I find myself wondering: If I want to study music so badly, why did I completely drop it this summer like every other academic activity I dislike, yet continue brushing up on my French? I'm still not 100% positive where I want to go with that, but I'm really leaning more towards French. Even though I've been ridiculously lazy with incorporating French into my posts this past month (and a half..) or so, I have been doing other things related. I love French music! And I've been chatting online with people in French, and I've even taught my parents quite a bit of French. We'll see where things go, I have plenty of time yet.

However, I'm not quite so open with my family about how excited I am to go to Québec because I got a pretty negative response from my mother when I brought it up one evening. She's kept it in mind though, and I think the longer she dwells on the matter, the more she's starting to come around. When my aunt was over, she mentioned right away that I was thinking about Canada. She also must have brought it up at work, because today she said one of her co-workers recommended looking into a Canadian college (in Ontario, but the thought was still appreciated!) and instead of just ignoring it, she passed the message along. And then we were talking about the ACT versus the SAT (as most students here just take the ACT, but she wanted me to take both) when she asked me to see about the colleges I had been looking at. Which she of course knows, are in Québec. Mind you, I haven't brought this up to my father yet. I'm nervous about that because it will either be really easy and he'll be great, or he'll be very upset and will disapprove.

As for actual colleges go, my first choice all around is McGill University in Montreal. It's world renowned for being a great international school and it's made it into the world's top 25 university lists multiple times (the only Canadian school to do so!) among Harvard and Yale. It also offers courses that are in French but designed for students who've only learned it as a second language, along with English courses and whatnot. Very versatile. My other two universities I've looked at would only be if I indeed decide to pursue French as my major, which are UQAM (Université du Québec à Montréal) and the University of Montréal. My concern with these two is that while they are excellent schools, the classes are only taught in French, with little no help for English speakers. You also have to pass a test to prove that you are proficient enough in French to go to these schools at all. It's a little daunting, but either way I'll probably try. After all, my French comprehension is very high- it's just lacking more when it comes to writing and especially speaking. But I could stumble through a conversation. Let us hope I get to take French at the local University next year, or I'll never make it.

À demain,

Mlle Delphine

Paranoia or Genuinely Creepy?

Bonjour mes amis!

I got home today around 1, 1:30pm after spending all day yesterday with my friend and going back to her place for the evening, which was all very eventful but will (maybe) have to be put in another post. You see, when I got home I was quite tired as we had stayed up late and did a lot of running around, etc. So I sit at my computer.

My little step sister, who is 11, is the only other person home with me when she decides she wants to use the toaster (regardless of the fact I asked before we left if she wanted toast, of course) but my mother is weird and puts it away in the cupboard. So I'm halfway down the stairs to get the toaster down for her, when I hear a little squeak from my sister in the kitchen, and I ask if she found it.

"No, the construction guy just scared me," she giggled, still frozen in place from being startled. Confused, I then notice the man standing outside our kitchen window with the hard hat and shiny vest on, watering the bush with a garden hose. Very confused, but tired and thus not giving it any thought, I chuckle and get the toaster down, plug it in, and walk back upstairs.

It then occurs to me that not only is he supposed to be working in the road, he was using OUR hose and OUR water to water said-bush. Standing by OUR window, with two relatively young females home alone.

I went back downstairs and locked the doors and windows.

I texted my step dad about it and he went and yelled at him for using our water, but the guy claimed to have knocked on the door but no one answered, said he has daughters of his own and my step dad was convinced he only wanted water. Yeah, maybe if he knocked on the door with his finger nail...

À demain (I hope!)

Mlle Delphine

Painting My Face

Bonjour mes amis!

Non, before you flip, I'm not literally painting my face. Or caking on makeup.

The first part of my day consisted of anxiously awaiting my friend's phone call to say he got the gift. I was so nervous that, no joke, my palms were sweating. I mean, what if the painting wasn't as good as I thought it was? Or it was damaged during shipping? Or it gets there whole and he just plain and simple doesn't like it?

Boy was I wrong. He LOVES it!! I was SO relieved. He was talking about how it's the "nicest gift anyone's ever given me" and how it'll be the only thing he has hanging on his walls and how talented I am. But I think the best thing he said, was later when I told him I had just one more question that was important.

"Did it make you smile?"

"More than smile, it's nearly brought a tear to my eye. You made my birthday."

I think I did good. :) And as promised, here's the painting from a low-quality phone camera:

As for the second part of my day, my aunt came over to give us some free samples of Mary Kay products and talk about them, etc. It was actually really fun! The lip .. gloss, I guess? It's not super shiny though, that she had me try on looked really nice, and it's still on two hours later after I've drank and eaten a little bit. Same with the hand moisturizer stuff, and she said it also works wonders on feet. I really liked the foundation, but wish she had cover-up/concealer to try since mine doesn't work as well as I'd like. She had a lot more stuff she left at home, so my mother and I will have to visit her to try eye shadow colors and the like.

I don't know, typing about it here it seems silly, but this stuff just makes you feel good! And that's what make up is for, right? I'm crossing my fingers we can order the lip gloss, once we try one of the cover-ups, concealer, and moisturizer for my face. I have just normal Neutrogena cleanser that works really well but I can tell it dries out my skin. I know we probably won't, but maybe at least the lip gloss. Realistically you could probably get a cheap moisturizer at a department store, and my mother doesn't understand the importance of cover-up and foundation.

Oh, as a side note, I've noticed she's not only bad with technology, she's not the best with reading things in general. A few days ago on Facebook I posted about a few books I wanted to buy from Barnes & Noble and one of them was Princeton's ACT Review (2010 edition) and today she asked me why I'm thinking about applying to schools on the east coast because it's "so far!" Yeah, so far.. *cough* .. and then my mother told her I was thinking Québec. That was fun.

All in all, I've discovered that despite her bluntness, I really do like my aunt. What I don't like is my aunt and mother together. My mom gets much more, how do you say, aggressive? Attacking me for not doing chores well enough, making fun of the hair on my arm, saying I only want to go to Canada because it's cheaper, so on and so forth. Sigh.

Still, the reaction from my friend about the painting totally made my day. Maybe my week!

À demain,

Mlle Delphine

Surprise!

Bonjour mes amis,

I. Give. UP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Okay, it's not what you think, I promise. See, there's this birthday coming up for a close friend of mine that I've been working my butt off the past three weeks or so to prepare for. He, however, is very observant and knows me like no other, so I was terrified he'd realize something was up and the surprise wouldn't be as special. But he also happens to be the person I go to to talk about things when I'm sad or angry or happy and excited! You see my dilemma here? So, now I'm going to proceed to rant about how amazingly wonderful it is, and if it's at all possible that you (you know who you are!) happen to read my blog, you'd best be clicking a new link before I count to 10. Or I will be unhappy. You don't want to make me unhappy, do you???

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Oh my goodness, so at first I had NO FREAKING CLUE what I was going to do to make your birthday special. I have limited options seeing as you live so far away, and I wracked my brain for all sorts of different ideas, and yet nothing seemed fitting. Then one night on Facebook, I saw you mention wanting to get a new tattoo, a phoenix with Celtic knots. My readers, you don't know this, but I am an artist at heart. I've been drawing since I could pick up a pencil, but the past year I haven't managed to at all. Sure, doodles in my notebook, but nothing serious. I lacked motivation. And then I saw it: a bright red and orange phoenix shooting towards to stars with flames trailing behind its wings and tail, with the Celtic knots built into the bird itself. But it HAD to be in color, and I'm absolutely awful with my color mediums like colored pencils, markers, crayons, etc.

I also have a friend who has discovered she, too, is very artistic at heart, although she's been doing a lot of painting. So I decided that's how I would go about this project, although I've honestly never done much in the way of painting. Once or twice in elementary school, really was it. However, I get my visual artistic side from my father and he's always loved to watch that side of me grow, so when I was visiting him, I explained how I had this amazing idea for my new painting and I started telling him all about the colors and the design and everything. It worked. We ended up walking to my favorite art store ever, Wet Paint, and ended up spending way too much on paint supplies. We decided to settle on acrylics since I was pretty new to painting and oils take much longer to dry, not even taking into account how expensive oils are! There was also a big sale on canvas, so I got a box of ten for a great deal. (I love my stockpile of canvas sitting in my room, it's like it's waiting for me to get another idea.)

So then it began. Prior to this, all I had was a rough sketch. When I got home, I began working on transferring my rough sketch into a clean sketch to put on the canvases. Yes, canvases. See, I didn't exactly mention to my father I was planning on giving away this huge project of mine, so I'm making two. Sort of. I'll get to how that ended up later! (Edit: I never actually get to it later. Sorry, it'll come in the second post with the pictures!) But both sketches were on the two different canvases, fully complete about a week after I had started, only a few days before it was time to go to my father's house again. It was a grueling task, and I remembered why I hadn't found any motivation to draw anything in the past year. It's become too much work and not enough play. But finally, I got to start working with the paints.

I had to experiment quite a bit to figure out what I wanted to do. I had grown up hearing my dad talk about how it's better to have lots of thin layers than one thick layer, so that's what I tried to do. It was a slow process, although less painful than the sketching. After I had finished painting the bird's head, neck, and majority of its body, I was struggling to figure out how to give it a feathered appearance. Then I remembered what the woman in the art store had said....

*Wavey flashback*

She was still standing behind the counter, talking about the big options regarding different paints, "And Acrylics have some texture to them, you can really work with the paint."

*Wavey flashback ends*

That was it! I threw out my father's advice about the thin layers of paint and started mixing more paint together to get a small pool on the plate to dip the brushes into. I applied the colors with thick brush strokes, a little like Van Gough's Starry Night, and then would smooth out the edges to give it a bit of a softer, less dramatic look. This way of painting was fun. In a way, I sort of had my own impressionism revolution by breaking away from the rules about art I've learned. I was jumping away from drawing even though I was good at it, I was ignoring what my amazing artist of a father told me about painting, and I did what felt good to me. And you know what? It showed.

Not only did the painting start looking much more awesome and artistic, but I worked on it much more often and for longer periods of time because it was enjoyable. I finished about two weeks after I started, and I had spent an estimated 13 hours painting. During the process, I'd gotten paint quite literally everywhere. I had it smeared across my palm and elbow, I had paint on both of my cheeks, on my shoulder, under my nails, on my thighs and all over my clothing, carpet, and pillow that I'd been sitting on. But it was so much fun.

And now? The painting is finished. I bought his birthday card on Thursday, and mailed the present off on Friday. The expected arrival date is the 19th, which is perfect. The 19th is a Thursday, so it gives them two days for error before it could be late since his birthday is the 23rd, the following Monday. I am SO EXCITED! I love surprises and I really hope he likes it. I've shown several people a quick shot of the painting I took on my phone, and they've all been rather impressed, so I have a good feeling about this. Now I just have to hold up a little bit longer. I'm so tired of answering "pretty boring" or "I worked on some projects (implying homework projects. I don't like to lie!) today" when he asks how my day went. The painting is currently "IN TRANSIT TO E. SYRACUSE, NY US" and it's just a matter of waiting it out. I can keep my mouth shut a little longer... just a little longer.

And thank you, for rekindling the sleeping bed of coals into a living, breathing, raging, artistic flame.

À demain,

Mlle Delphine

P.S. I'll post a couple pictures here after I know he's gotten the present.

3 Hours of Sleep + 5 Hour Energy Drink + 16 oz. Cappuccino = This Post

Bonjour mes amis,

Warning: This post may leave you confused and questioning society and the world as we know it.

So, why DO they put your shoe boxes into plastic bags to carry across the parking lot anyways? I mean, it's a 3 lb box. Maybe if your hands were full.. But then wouldn't it stack better as a box? Sorry, that's been nagging me since I got my shoes this morning. Yes, I finally got athletic shoes! I haven't had any decent tennis shoes since like the 6th grade. I'm nearly set to start working out on Monday. The only thing left is to nag my parents into helping making some room in the living room.

I also discovered that nature treats me weird. Like really. We'll start with the simplest.

1) My body absolutely hates me; I'm "ill" far more than the normal person, to the point where I don't think anything of it when I actually am sick. My stomach is often unhappy and I can't breathe right to save my life (Okay, not literally, but...) and I get dizzy just from taking a quick shower. Today was no different. I was out walking around at a city get together type thing, it was hot and sunny, I was dehydrated, hungry, and running off of three hours of sleep and a 5 Hour Energy Drink. I nearly passed out on the way home. Fun times.

2) Bugs love only one portion of me; on my left leg I have six bug bites, all of which are between my knee and halfway up my shin. The other leg is the same but with less bites.

3) Only the inside of my elbows sunburned; Yeah, you heard me, the inside of my elbows were the only thing that burned today. Seriously, how do you burn the inside of your elbow??

I've had a really weird day. Before we even left to go get my upper shins bitten and the inside of my elbows burned, I was waking up by chatting with folks on the computer. My step father walks up behind me and puts his hand on my shoulder and just stands there with a smile. So I turn to him and ask, "Can I help you...?"

His smile grows as he replies, "No, just proud of you."

"For what?" Jeeze, my desk is a mess, I haven't washed the dishes in weeks, it's the middle of summer so it can't be grades...

He chuckles and says, "Just stuff," and turns and walks away.

Curiosity killed the Kat. But for now, this Kat must sleep.

À demain,

Mlle Delphine

Money =/= Happiness

Bonjour mes amis,

While I realize this isn't the smartest idea, ranting here on this blog, as I have a link to it from my Facebook and my family has access to my Facebook... But I promised I'd write more and this is the only thing on my mind.

My family is big on bonfires. My mother and step-dad, anyways, and they decided that we were having one tonight. So at 7:30 when the sky was still bright blue, Jeff goes out and starts the fire and then drags us (my little sister and myself) out as well. Soon enough everyone has eaten and then is getting a little bored, so the little sister whines for someone to toss beanbags with her, and of course my step father agrees. Meanwhile, my mother and I get on the topic of college.

You see, I don't really run fresh ideas through my parents, I wait until I've thought them well over and they're pretty solid first, because I generally end up fighting for my ideas. Except, you know, I figured they'd be fighting about the Québec/Canada part... not the following-my-dreams part. Yep. My mother disapproves of me wanting to be a choir director. She thinks I should choose a job so I can be rich and "support myself." I understand this worry she has about me being poor, I mean, she's pretty much lived it her whole life and I see the way it stresses her out, but I'm also not going to be nearly as irresponsible with my money as she. It makes me thankful my father was the one who raised me.

Dad always raised me saying it's all about how happy you are with the job, not about the money. He wakes up every morning, hating his job SO much, but he always goes so that he can support not just himself but his four kids, two of which live with him even though they're adults. Don't worry, they pay rent. Or at least, one does, but that wasn't always the case. For a while my mother was out of the picture and he had to raise us on his own. God bless that man, raising four crazy children by himself!

I guess what I'm getting at, is this reminds me of a promise I made myself when I was younger. I told myself I could chase after any job in the whole world that I wanted, as long as it made me happy.

"Tout le monde m'avait dit que c'était impossible; moi, je leur ai répondu qu' « impossible n'est pas français » et puis je l'ai fait." (Everyone told me it was impossible. Me, I responded to them that "Impossible isn't French" and then I did it.)

And that's exactly what I intend on doing.

À demain,

Mlle Delphine

Short 'N' Sweet

Bonjour mes amis,

I have been stricken with the strong urge to jump in my car and go on a road trip. I could go somewhere closer like the river, or drive into Wisconsin and kidnap my big sister for a day, or if I had my passport I could cross the border and go see Canada.

Problem being I have 1/4 tank of gas and no money or passport. Seriously though, I really want to, like I spent my morning planning where I'd go if I could just up and leave! Maybe I can get some gas money from the parental units this weekend and go nag my sister and have her fiancé foot the bill for lunch ;) I don't think I've seen her since Easter.

I can't sit still. I'll write more tomorrow.

À demain,

Mlle Delphine.

Tagging: Not Just for Facebook Anymore

Bonjour, mes amis,

I was just looking at random blogs and there was one saying she got "tagged" to answer a survey thing, kind of like how Facebook does it. Except at the end she tagged everyone who read it. I guess I can, I don't really feel like posting anything else super interesting and it gives me an excuse to start adding more than boring text to my posts. Allons-y!

1.What shoe size are you? Quelle pointure êtes-vous?
Size 8 - 9 depending on the brand, but usually 8 or 8 and 1/2.

2.Where do you work? Où est-ce que vous travaillez?

I wish I worked.

3.Favorite piece of clothing you own? Qu'est-ce que votre vêtement préféré?
My fedora, of course! Excluding accessories, I'll go with my newest shirt. Black, racerback with ruffles on the chest, loose fitting with the elastic on the bottom. Makes me wish I had some necklaces to layer with it.

4.Your favorite blog? Votre blog préféré?
I love reading all of my friends' blogs, but honestly, Two Beans or Not Two Beans wins this one.

5.Do you have any pets? Est-ce que vous avez animaux domestiques?
Yep! We have the family cat, and then I have a kitten named Sir Galahad. He's adorable even though he's not really a kitten anymore.

6.How many siblings do you have? Combien de soeurs et frères est-ce que vous avez?
I have a brother (25), a sister (22), a brother (19), a step-sister (11), and a half-step-sister (17). What's a half-step-sister? It's my step-sister's half-sister, of course.

7.If you could live anywhere where would it be? *Too lazy for conditional tense*
Québec. I love you France, but right now, I'm day dreaming constantly of college in Québec.

8.What were you doing before this? *Too lazy for French*

Ironically, tagging my friends on Facebook. It wasn't a survey-type thing, though, it was Henry Thoreau's "Friendship." :)


9.Your favorite food? Votre nourriture préféré?
Perogies, hands down. The real kind though, homemade, not icky frozen ones.

10.Do you have a middle name? *Hey, I don't have to write in French*
Yes I do.

11.Your favorite websites? *Lazy*
Facebook, Blogger, Youtube, StumbleUpon, Gmail, Dirpy, and College Fashion (no particular order to that).

12.Who do you tag? *Lazy*
French Bean, E, and Kayla!

Wow, I'm much more tired than I thought. Good night blogger, tomorrow I will catch you up on today's events!

À demain,

Mlle Delphine

College... in Quebec?

Bonjour, mes amis!

Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out.

Wouldn't that be SO AWESOME?! Okay, here I go trying to explain to my evil councilor why this is a good idea and why he shouldn't talk me out of it like he does to all my other friends and their ideas. Also, for my friends who are now panicking about me going away to Canada. *Clears throat and the screen does the wavey fade out and in again to another scene*

I want to major in Music Education and become a choir director. French, however, is something I could never give up, and so every time I search for colleges, I have to look for a music program and a good French program. Realistically, I know there are some out there, but they tend to be very expensive or in remote areas I'm not so fond of moving to... and to be honest, I want to go to a decent school, not some random place in a town of 400 that conveniently is affordable. No, money is not my primary concern, but it is a concern. I expect to be in debt until I'm forty and I want to make sure that every single dime was spent on me enjoying my one life. My father will be taking me to France after I graduate from high school for a couple weeks, and as much as I'll love it, I know I would never be able to afford to go to school there. So, I guess I could study abroad for a semester or two. But then I had a better idea:

Why not go to school in Quebec?

Think about it, I'd be doing all of my learning in one school so I wouldn't have to be uprooted every 4-9 months. It's a major French-speaking area in the world and most any college I look at will be taught in French, and they have programs to assist the students whose native language isn't French. I wouldn't have to worry about whether or not there is a good French program all while being pretty immersed in it, and I know my ability to speak the language would increase drastically. Then I would be able to focus my actual classes on getting my major and it would save me money in the long run since most language classes are a handful of credits.

As for the actual going to school in another country, I think it would be an incredible opportunity. I've always loved seeing new places, but visiting them on vacation is never the same as actually living there. Simply moving cities was an intense culture shock to me because my hometown was all I ever knew. Now I know the surrounding metro, but I feel like I'm still missing out on so much. I know it won't be easy to move to a place so far away, and I know I will miss my friends and family, but I don't believe that life is about living inside of your comfort zone. I also know, from experience, that I will be able to stay in touch with anyone who truly cares about me and that I'll make amazing, new friends while I'm there! I have learned so much about the way other people work, about other places, but most of all, about me. Going to a university in Quebec would be another opportunity to keep learning about the world while still moving onwards and upwards in my life, and I think I would be a fool to not take this opportunity.

*The screen wavey fades out and back into real time* What do you think? Somewhat convincing? The wording and rambling is going to happen no matter how much I edit this paragraph because I'm not the best speaker, so I figured I'd leave it as is. I'm actually really excited at the prospect of going to college in Quebec! I've been doing some research on it but know I still have more work to do before I can prove to my councilor that I know enough about the difference in systems.

À demain,

Mlle Delphine

Ratchet (& Clank)

Bonjour, mes amis!

This is a ratchet:

Er, at least that's the only ratchet Google Images decided to come up with. I'm actually talking about the tool here! Last night I got to help mon beau-père (C'mon, you can remember this one!) travaille (work) en la motorcyclette de mon père (If "Beau" père is step father.. Père would be?). I've never done anything mechanically related before, but I've been nagging him for a while about oil changes. I don't want to have to depend on a man if I don't want to, you know? Plus it's kinda fun. We were changing the buttons and the grips on the handle bars, so I got to use a ratchet to undo the screws and all that.

Ours doesn't look quite like this, but it's close enough to get the idea. It's basically a screwdriver with movable parts. In theory, the movable parts help you to get screws that are in interesting places. In practice, the movable parts meant I had a lot of trouble using it on normally-placed screws.

The motorcycle is pretty much finished so I only got to see some of the cosmetic ends of things, but Mom has been nagging my step-father for a while about getting the Honda an oil change. Yessss! It's bound to come eventually, right? Plus as soon as I clean my desk, Jeff agreed to show me how to wax my the car that I'm using for the next two years.

À demain,

Mlle Delphine

Would -You- Eat a Mango Pickle?

Bonjour, mes amis!

My family and I were visiting les parents de mon beau-père (my stepfather's parents) for dinner when his mother pulled out a jar from the fridge saying she wanted to give it a try. I happened to be sitting at the table, not facing the kitchen as the following events occurred. She quickly moaned at its scent and put the mango pickle in the trash, the rest of the family ran to inquire and also quickly backed off. My mother came to the table saying, "Oh that's disgusting!" while making some silly faces. I, already irritated by the fact they smoked two cigarettes on the way there, told her not to be so rude because there are people who eat and like them. She then announced loudly, "Delphine wants to try one!"

Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat?!

But alas, it had been done, and I had just been talking about being open-minded. I took the jar that was brought to me. This is sort of what I saw.

But a little less appetizing when it comes from a jar, and covered in a green oil-herb mix instead of red. The scent was just like brown-sugar, but I felt a little nauseous. Daunted by all of the strangeness, I asked for a fork. Mon beau-père snatched the jar, picked the small one I had been eying, and took a bite. He kept eating, so I made my move before I had a chance to think twice. It wasn't very appealing but it wasn't awful. A moment later it tasted comme cornichons à l'aneth (like dill pickles), and a moment after that it tasted little but was spicy. Well, to the extent pepperoni is, but I'm not a fan of spicy food. I ate the whole thing in one bite.

This is coming from the girl who doesn't like any sauces on her food beyond ketchup on fries and soy sauce on rice, the girl who didn't try sour cream on her baked potato until she was at least twelve. Oh how I've grown! I think Mom nearly had a heart attack but I don't think she ever tried it. Wiser of us two? Perhaps. More knowledgeable? Not when it comes to mango pickles.

À demain,

Mlle Delphine

Yiruma; Reflections

Bonjour, mes amis!

I've been listening to this song on repeat all morning. And I was listening to more of Yiruma's pieces last night. It's eerily beautiful, the way it make me feel so peaceful and just forget all the worries the world holds. This is why I love music the way I do. This is why I could imagine myself dedicating the rest of my life to music... choir is definitely a favorite, getting to use your own body to create this type of magic is describable only with music itself. Yet, I've always loved the sweet sound of the piano.

I played the clarinet in fourth grade and liked it, but I hated practicing. I tried the flute the next year but I wasn't a big fan, so in sixth grade I returned to my clarinet. In seventh grade I gave up band, and therefore my instrument, in order to have other electives since I knew I wanted to learn French. How cruel, to make me choose between my two biggest passions, French and music! So for a Christmas present that year, my father signed me up for piano lessons. While I liked playing at the actual lessons, I hated practicing at home on our piano. It was out of tune, the keys were worn and chipped, and some of the strings must have been loose because a few keys, including middle C, you had to press hard on quickly to get any noise out of them. My teacher never knew I didn't practice, and she still called me a natural. I think she was just being nice, yet at the same time, I did quite well. Dad promised to fix it up but never did. He's forgetful and we aren't made of money. So, I quit piano lessons when the school year ended.

The next year I started voice lessons. I liked to sing but I was very nervous. I slowly became more comfortable singing with a piano and my voice teacher, but I still couldn't practice at home. My teacher was from New Zealand and she traveled back home for the holidays. I chickened out of calling her a month or so later, and we never heard from her again. We never got our money back, either. Little did I know, those voice lessons would help me get into the choir of my choice in high school.

I went to three Halloween parties that night, my sophomore year, and this was the last and the best of the ones. I went with my then-boyfriend who could conveniently drive to all of these places. He was also in band and choir, and he planned on majoring in music. At the party, I was sitting at a table with him and some friends who were chatting, and the friends got up to go dancing but I wasn't really in the mood to dance. Instead, I heard Cascada's Everytime We Touch, and started singing it with the best quality voice I knew how, just sort of having fun, you know? But he leaned in close to me to listen and I pulled away. Just like before, still rather shy when it comes to singing around others, though I'd gotten better. I kept singing. He did the same thing. I started laughing. Third time, I decided to ignore him and kept singing anyways. He told me I should join choir. So I did (with some debating, of course).

After some rushed practices with him and an old friend, the director gave me my voice check and decided to put me in the more experienced choir. While he felt that I was still at the other choir's level, he figured I would quickly outgrow them because of my prior music experience. I truly hope he was right about that, and I do feel like I grew a lot this year in my musical abilities. I had another voice check at the end of the year which would determine my placement in choir next year, either the same one or up to Concert Choir, which is the best and only mixed choir we have at the high school. This time instead of critiquing me, he actually complimented me. I'd say the hard work paid off.

As for summer? I'm dieing without choir. Every time I get in the car to go somewhere, I turn on the radio and sing along. An alumni was going to start a summer choir but never did. I begged my parents to buy a keyboard, fully intending on using it. Unfortunately it didn't come with a stand or anything, so we don't have any place for me to place that has a decent enough height got me to work with. If I get this job, which I will write about tomorrow, I plan on putting 1/3 of every paycheck away for college. The rest will be used for gas money and other things. The first thing I want to buy is a stand and stool for my keyboard. Then I can learn another one of Yiruma's beautiful pieces, "River Flows in You." The second thing I want to buy is an AZERTY keyboard. French and music are my two passions in life. I hope that somehow I can make them blend into my future, no matter what career I pursue.

À demain,

Mlle Delphine

Je suis desolée pour le petit utilisation de français! Mon réflexions était pense d'en anglais, alors je les écrivais en anglais.

Wanted: Bilingual Spanish-English Telemarketing Representative in Aisle Six

Bonjour, mes amis!

Please, allow me the pleasure of a quick rant or simply skip this paragraph. Why do I need five years of experience to answer a telephone and do other clerical activities? Why do I need a degree to operate a cash register? Why must I learn Spanish to work at McDonalds? I'm dedicated. I need this job. If I want to go to college and have anything at all resembling a life so that I'm capable of helping others and making some sort of an affect on this world, I need money. And to get money? I need a job. If you know any company that's hiring, I would be ecstatic to work for them! J'ai besoin d'un occupation!

I do hate to rant, though, and my day has been quite lovely so I'll leave the unpleasant adult worries at that. Today I drove to Kayla's house with my recently obtained driver's license! We hung out for a few minutes before quickly deciding to go to Target. Here we bought some random things. I got a fedora (as pictured to the right) and she got a floppy awesome hat along with a flyleaf CD, toilet paper, and a few other random objects. While wandering the store, we accomplished many things. I had my first light-saber fight in the middle of an aisle, for example! We also took one of those giant bouncy balls from the metal cage and played catch in the middle of the same aisle. We (read: I) accidentally knocked down some things so we decided we should probably move along. After picking them up, of course. On our way back to her house and then when I was heading home, I wore my fedora and sunglasses-- très chik-- and felt like an epic ninja spy lady. It was legit. Then I went out to eat at Lakeside Supper Club in Montgomery with my mother, step-father, and younger step-sister (whom I will now just call my little sister)! Six ounce fillet mignon avec les champignons et frites (with mushrooms and fries). The strawberry smoothie was also *amazing*! What I'd do to get that recipe!

While I was sleeping on my ride home, my dearest friend Kayla had disaster strike her unexpectedly! She sang the National Anthem at a local raceway, and while walking in the bleachers, caught her foot and managed to injure both of them badly enough she can't walk without severe pain. Thankfully on our way home, we stopped at the grocery store and got chocolate chips. Tomorrow I will be making Puppy Chow and going to Kayla's to watch some movies with her! (:

À demain,

Mlle Delphine