Living my last days in France

T-18 days until my visa expires. I wish I could say that I was beyond thrilled to go home, but with little enthusiasm, I will be heading back to the United States.
Although this experience in France has been quite different than my previous, I have to admit, it was everything I had hoped for and needed - and more.

Starting off a little rough, beaten down, heartbroken and lost, my first months in France were not an easy feat. I questioned my decision to move across the vast ocean, yet again, leaving everything I loved behind. I wondered if my decisions were actually what I wanted or just what I thought I wanted. But I had made my choice, accepted the consequences and had to keep living. There is no reliving the past, so focus on the present and let the future come at will.

Once I finally accepted that I could do nothing about the external things that were affecting my spirit, I tried to let the negativity go and surround myself with positive people and energy. I started my #100HappyDays which helped me appreciate, once again, the little things in life that make me happy, and I began moving to a better place within myself. I still struggle, from time to time, as thoughts of the past pop into my head or questions about my decisions or the future storm over me, but overall this experience has helped shape me back into the person I want to be.

Still as the days tick on... I have yet to buy my plane ticket (1. because it is so damn expensive and I can't afford it and 2. I am secretly prolonging my return as much as possible). This is not to say that I can't wait to see my wonderful family and friends back home, but more so because I am slightly worried I will slip back into the dejected emotional state I was experiencing before.

I should probably get on that ticket thing.

I love my life here, the culture, the language, the leisure, the people. The way of living is much more relaxed without the constant stress or hustle and bustle. It makes me feel more alive. I am worried I will be re-caught in the death-trap of 40+ hour work weeks, little to no vacation time, minimal time for self reflection and the constant "go, go, go," lifestyle. I understand why the French love France, and not just for their work ethics *sarcasm* (this could be an entirely new blog post), but for the mellow and agréable ambiance of their lives of which I have become so accustomed.


It takes being forced to go home to realize my heart isn't ready.

Oeli and I have adapted well here and I was hoping to find a job that would allow us to stay at least another year, but things haven't worked out and we have to carry on. I am not ready to leave, but I know wherever the wind takes us next, there is a great ride ahead. Staying positive, staying hopeful, and staying strong to who I am - with a smile.

Living the Hitch-hiking Way

I left with 20 euros in my pocket, a small backpack and no phone. It would take around 5 hours to get to Montpellier from Grenoble, so I had heard, and I was hoping to arrive before nightfall. It was the first time I had hitch-hiked alone. The day was beautiful, not a cloud in the sky and the air was warm - a great day to stand around with my thumb stuck out, waiting for a nice soul to stop and take me to some further destination. As a solo hitch-hiker, you have to learn to follow your instincts, sharpen your wit and trust people more than you normally would. Travelling as a solo girl hitch-hiker, you have to augment all of those at an even higher level.

Fortunately, I had an amazing first experience making my way to the south of France. I have to thank the five people who picked me up along the way and got me safely to Montpellier: the English-speaking dad, the physical eduction high school teacher, the woman en route to visit her family, the semi-truck driver, and the French-islander from (one of those occupied French islands). I know none of their names, just their stories. I made it there before the sky grew dim.

Montpellier (and Courtney - the friend I was visiting who I had met a month earlier when she came to CouchSurf in Grenoble) showed me an amazing time and was a great host.
We laid on the sandy beaches of Montpellier, created catchy names for future inventions, watched five cars burn completely up in the middle of the night after our two hour jam session at a closed bar, bronzed in the sun by the river and mocked the multitude of photographers and their subjects. Our literal "mockage" goes as follows:
 

"Oh, look at me. Oui, take my picture."

(Uh oh! I got caught in the mockery) - notice said girl in white

Just laugh it off.

 My weekend in Montpellier wasn't all fun and games. I did have a terrible interview on Monday morning, where I was told my French sucked and my English grammar sucked even worse. Let's just say I won't be getting that job. Now to thinking differently about the future, yet again.

The adventure back from Montpellier was yet another interesting one when four French-Turks picked me up and dropped me off well further than I needed to go, that left me with difficulty trying to get a ride back to Grenoble. I met another hitch-hiker while hanging out around a toll booth, a very nice toll attendant named Erik and a lady who kindly dropped me off in Lyon. Luckily, I was able to get a hold of a friend that lives in Lyon who fed me and let me crash there for the night. I made my way back to Grenoble the next morning to arrive just in time to teach my first class.
I told my students if any of them could top my weekend, they could all leave. It was a sure shot none of them could, but they all enjoyed the story of my eventful weekend.

I came back with .32 cent in my pocket.

Living as "The Girl Next Door" in the French Alps

For those of you that haven't noticed yet, I have started a "living series." Each post I write for the next couple of months will be tagged, labelled and will be titled with "Living" in some form or another. hashtag #thelivingseries
I thought this would be an interesting way to portray my writing, as I'm currently "living" abroad and "living" life to the fullest possible. So today's topic: Living as "The Girl Next Door."

That's right, I'm the girl next door. Maybe in the traditional sense as well, who knows, but I'm talking literally, "the girl next door." The girl next door to a really attractive, who happens to be pretty awesome, French guy... with a girlfriend. First off, I hope he never reads this because it would be incredibly embarrassing (or funny), depending on how you look at it. However, I am completely attracted to said French man, but not-so-much that he has a girlfriend.

I'm not sure why I tend to want things I can't have - oh wait, I think that comes with life and probably my personality as well. But unfortunately, this one will have to remain friends. I can still look right?

Just kidding. He lives on the 4th floor.

On a side note, Spring is in the air... everywhere I look around. The flowers are in full bloom, the lower mountains have shed their white blankets for a fresh green canvas and the air is warm in the valley. The people are out and about and Oeli is enjoying basking in the sun on a daily basis. You can't beat a long bike right from the city into the French countryside, where horses roam, three mountain ranges surround you in all directions, the air is warm and the sun is shining down on your face. That's how I spent my Sunday afternoon in the beautiful French Alps. I don't think I can give this up any time soon.

Living Abroad with a Dog

Sure, the process of bringing my precious pooch to France was exhausting. I had to make sure he was up-to-date on all of his shots, he was micro-chipped, certified, and not to mention all the dreadful paperwork to complete the process. It took numerous trips to the vet and the final trip to Washington DC to get his USDA certification to permit him to travel out of the country.

Sure, I had to buy a new cage for him to travel in, pay the airline company (a lot of money) to allow him to travel with me and I had to think about his well being on top of it all.

The first time I lived abroad, I was staying in the dorms, which did not allow animals. At the same time, I wanted to experience life as an exchange student, travel and adventure as I pleased. My parents offered to watch Oeli during the year I was abroad. I can't explain how many times I thought about him, wanted his company and missed being able to look into his sweet, sweet eyes. I knew that if I were to ever to go back abroad after that year, I would take him with me. The experience that I had as an exchange student was one of the most, if not the most amazing year of my life to date, and I wouldn't change anything I experienced. But I can recall certain points during the year that having my loving companion would have been just the right thing to get over the home sickness or cure my case of the "Debbie Downer."
After finding out that I would be returning to France this year, there was no doubt in my mind that Oeli would be coming with me. It had been 4 years since the first time I had lived in France; and I knew my experience here this time would be completely different and I was okay with living a more settled life this go-round. 

Sure, now I have to think more about him instead of myself. I can't just leave for a weekend without making multiple arrangements to ensure he's taken care of while I'm gone. I come home during to day to walk him and come home early at night. I've had to deal with annoying neighbours, whimpering because he needs (or wants) to go outside, countless bags of dog food, treats, play toys (that he tears up immediately) and "accidents" in my room.

But there is nothing better than the unconditional love a dog gives. He is selfless, obedient and reassuring. He's always there for me when I need him most and he never lacks in cuddles. He has the cutest ears that flop in the wind and his markings make him unique. He always makes me smile as he cocks his head one way and then another when you speak to him. He knows when he's been bad and he tucks his head and shrinks down, but I can't stay mad for long because he deserves nothing but love. He knows when I'm sad and is always there to comfort me; and he looks at me with those sweet, sweet eyes that say, "Mom, don't worry. Everything is going to be okay."
And it will be, because he is there to make everything better.

I would never give him up for a million dollars, because it is he who helps build my happiness on a daily basis. He isn't just a dog: he's my best friend and companion.

Hi, I'm Oeli.