We don't celebrate saint days in the States - well, not on any grand scale that I'm aware of, anyway. But, in France, each day commemorates a saint, and if your name happens to be that of a saint, you can expect someone to wish you a happy saint's day. Today was Saint-Guillaume Day - or Saint William of Bourges Day, so Gui received a barrage of text messages and voicemails wishing him a bonne fête, which pretty much just wishes him a happy holiday. I find the whole French approach to religion strikingly oxymoronic, but I like the idea of having a commemorative "feastday" (as they describe on the catholic.org website) simply because you share the name of a saint. Who doesn't love feast days?

There isn't much to say about Saint Guillaume de Bourges except that he was a man who did lots of good things in his short life, like take care of the poor and less fortunate than him. However, I did note a couple of things of interest about him (well, to me, anyway). He performed 18 miracles in his life and 18 after. Not only is that just seriously impressive, but it is a pretty well-known fact that 18 is my lucky number. He was the canon (priest) of Paris at some point, but eventually decided to abandon the big city lifestyle for a more simple life in the north of France. I also find it pretty neato that he was canonized on May 17th, which just happens to be my birthday. Knowing all of this, I'd like to say that Saint Guillaume and I would be pretty solid pals if he were living now or had I been living back in the late 12th century. I'm quite content, still, with knowing that I'll be reminded of his goodness and grace every year that we celebrate his accomplishments via his modern-day namesake.

I've somehow never had to use the French word for efficient since living in Paris. But, yesterday I found myself searching through my pocket dictionary to figure out how to describe the unprecedented situation at, of all places, the préfecture. That's right, folks! I wanted to describe my visit to the préfecture as efficace! Of course, I arrived prepared - hot panini in hand, interesting book to read and my current knitting work-in-progress were all sorted in my bag in preparation for the long and nail-biting experience that never materialized. I finished my sandwich, knitted a couple of rows, and not even 20 minutes into my wait-time some brilliant woman decided to prepare the carte de sejours in advance for people who were there to pick theirs up - people like me! Only minutes later, I was walking away with a smile planted on my face and my freshly-minted card in hand. We won't talk about the fact that I'll have to start the renewal process in merely three months, or that I look like I'm holding back a toothy grin in my photo, because I just really want to savor this happy, hassle-free (and likely, once in a lifetime) moment as long as possible.

Things are also coming along swimmingly with the Christmas shopping. I never knew I could get so much done with my day until I tried to get so much done. Besides Gui's sister, we're done with his family, and apart from a few little things I plan on taking back for peeps, all the things that require treks across town or special ordering been taken care of. I plan on getting most of the stuff I'm missing from a last-minute trek to the mall and Target in Dallas or Kansas, which I'm sure is going to be a mad rush! I'm keeping a pretty thorough and strict list, though, so let's hope I don't get too sidetracked by all the glitz and glamour of holiday shopping at American stores while I'm there!

I'm also happy to report that my first knitting project is more than halfway done. It would be two-thirds done if I decided to stick with the three skeins of yarn I'd initially planned for it, but I've decided to add one more skein (if it's available) since it's not going to be as long as I'd thought it'd be. So far, I'm really pleased with how it's turned out, but being my first project and all, it's not without its flaws.

I still need to learn how to weave in my ends and cast off, but that'll happen soon enough, I think. Right now, I'm kind of obsessed with the knitting (etc.) website, Ravely and can't keep myself from dreaming about what projects I want to tackle next. I'm still so impressed by the beautiful work people are able to create with their hands and some imagination. I'd love to move on to a pair of simple socks or baby leggings next, but I'm not sure if I should be less ambitious for my second project. I'm thinking I'll be able to draw some inspiration and advice from the talented group that's meeting tonight at Aimee's, so we shall see soon enough.

I know it's my pessimistic way of reasoning, but I'm really hoping that things aren't going so well and so quickly because something's bound to go wrong next week. It would be nice if all of these little triumphs would lead to a culmination of smooth travels for us on Tuesday, but as that's kind of out of my hands, I won't worry too much about it now.

I haven't been much of a blogger these days, have I? Well, there's no real explanation except for maybe that I'm spending my blog time doing other things or that I haven't been all that inspired to write lately. Maybe it's winter in Paris. I just don't really like the cold. Or the gloom. And, there's been a lot of both around here lately. Talking to a girl in my phonetics class the other day, we decided that the reason why we feel like Paris is Russia right now is because we don't have a car in a relatively warm garage to walk to in the mornings. We have a metro station a 5-10 minute walk away from home as our destination at 7:45 AM, when it's recently been at or below freezing. It just ain't fun.

I'm still taking my classes at La Sorbonne, which are coming to an end rather soon now. We have two weeks off for the holidays and then only one week of class in January before our big exams start around the 15th. Scary! Progress is slowly being made, I think, but I still have those days when my voice and tongue completely fail to work in any language. I am, however, finding that practice does make perfect, and the more I try to speak, the more I progress. Novel concept, I know. I had to go to our wedding photographer's shop today and as confident as I was about speaking to her before I got there, I felt like I stumbled over every other word once I was faced with actually speaking. Thankfully, she's incredibly sweet and patient (and hardworking, too - I heard her tell someone she'd be there on Saturday despite having family in town), so she indulged my choppy sentence structure with a smile and never once patronized me with corrections or funny looks. She also remembered my name right away, and reminded me how much she "adored" our wedding portraits. I remember when she was showing us the pictures for the first time, she kept remarking at how much the camera and light loved us. Flattery makes for good customers, I suppose, but she always seems sincere.

Besides my unceasing French lessons, we've been having quite the busy social lives of late. It seems that every weekend we've got things planned and even during the week, I find it necessary to check my calendar to be sure we're not "double booking" things. It's kind of strange. I think it's the upcoming holidays that have us so busy; since Thanksgiving and up until we head to the States for the holidays, it's a whirlwind of cocktails, friends, dinners and fêtes. Last weekend was completely filled with enjoying American food and drinks with new friends. We were celebrating the 200th episode of the Katia & Kyliemac podcast, which is frankly, quite a genius broadcast that these two creative geniuses host twice a week. (By the way, if you haven't checked it out and you're interested in expat life in France, you should give it a download.) They've got an amazing following of listeners who turned out from near and far to check out a live broadcasting of the historic episode, and we got to meet some really fantastic people and indulge in some really delicious fare in the process. Lucky us.

I've also (since last week) picked up a new hobby, which has been keeping me busy and often confused. It's knitting. My friend, Aimee has a beautiful tea salon in the 13th arrondissement of Paris where she hosts a weekly knitting group. She's a knitter (an amazing one, actually), and she offered to teach me and another friend to knit during the meet-up last week, and she did just that! I remember knitting and crocheting when I was younger - my grandma was always an inspiration for my creative side and she showed me once how to do it, but I didn't keep up with it as a hobby. Over the past couple of years, I've wanted to get more seriously into knitting - I've bought needles, yarn and a couple of books, and all I was lacking was a knowledgeable and patient teacher. Well, thank goodness that's exactly who Aimee is, and in between serving tea and soup, she gave me the introductory skill-set I needed to get started on my first project - a scarf. Since then I've been working almost daily on the piece, but every few rows I run into some kind of stitch-glitch and have to "frog," as they say, most of the work I've already completed. Still, it's been a rewarding and really fun hobby so far, and there's still so much I have to learn.

These next couple of weeks (THIRTEEN days!) are going to be pretty busy while we prepare for our trip to the US (and Gui's first American Christmas), but I plan on finding some time to blog. Christmas shopping is underway, and braving the cold is getting tougher and tougher for me. I just can't do it. All I can think of as I walk from my class to the metro is "home, heater, coffee; home, heater, coffee." We're trying to do some of our shopping online this year, though. Since we'll be arriving in Texas so late on the 23rd, we have to get most, if not all, of our gifts in Paris, which I'm not so happy about; besides having to brave frigid Paris temps, that also means that we'll be buying in euros and not dollars. I'm just hoping that the malls and Target will be open on Christmas Eve long enough for us to pick up any last-minute goodies. I seriously cannot wait!

So, Thanksgiving went off without a hitch. I've been processing the leftovers and weening myself off of the tryptophan this weekend, and feel it's about time to share some pictures from the big day. The turkey went in around 2:30 pm on Thursday afternoon, and besides giving it a little butter basting every now and again, I kept it simple. I can't remember exactly what time it was ready, but it was ready on time! As the guests trickled in, the serving table started filling up quickly - sweet potatoes, mac 'n cheese, twice-baked potatoes, Trader Joe's stuffing, homemade dinner rolls, exotic salad, cheesecake, caramel apples, baguettes, champagne and enough wine to satisfy any Parisian - nothing was missing from our feast! And, it was seriously all delicious. I could not have imagined a better way to spend my first Thanksgiving in Paris. It was simply a perfect evening, and I'm thankful for the group of friends who made it so.

For a much more eloquent summary of our feast, you can hop over to read what Juliet and Tamara had to say.

Today, didn't start out particularly well. I was nearly late to my phonetics class, in which we had our first test on pronunciation. I haven't been to this class in two weeks (we were off for holidays and I had the my immigration stuff to deal with, so I'm not a complete slacker), so under-prepared is hardly sufficient to describe how ready I was for the test. In the end, I couldn't answer half of the questions and cringed at the sound of my voice trailing off into mumbles through the laboratory ear-phones. It sucked. But, apparently Tuesday is a favorite day among teachers for testing so my grammar teacher decided to hand us a three-page writing test not long after class that began. The test questions weren't too difficult, but I was taking my time answering them which left me with three minutes to finish an entire page of work when our time was up. By the time the clock struck noon, I had successfully bombed two tests.

But, there's nothing like some holiday cheer to turn a frown upside-down. And, when I saw these beauties outside my neighborhood grocery store, I couldn't help but feel merry.


After class, my sweet mother-in-law scooped me up from our apartment and we shuffled off to Auchan to pick up the big bird that I'm going to roast on Thursday. I've been so worried about this turkey - Will it be fresh? Will it be big enough? Will it fit in my oven...in my fridge? - but, my belle-mère took care of the talking and the voilailler handed over a magnificent turkey for our special day. It was fresh from this morning and ready for baking. And, perhaps the best part is that it cost a mere third of what I would have paid at an American specialty shop in Paris. I skipped out of the store with my 8kg (read: 16 lbs) turkey in-hand and a Texas-sized smile. The holidays and food make me so happy! As soon as I came home, I gave the bird a nice look over and crossed my fingers that it'd fit in the roasting pan I bought.

And it did! I quickly arranged her in the oven to be sure it was big enough. And it was! That's a turkey what was meant for Thanksgiving, and I can't wait to get started!

Today, I attended my first "civic training day" as part of the requirements to fulfill my integration contract with France. It's a day-long class that outlines the basic values and principles of life in France that must be observed in order to live here, and it explains the various French institutions that govern and guide the country. I had little hope that I'd be able to stay awake, much less attentive during the 8-hour training, but I went prepared with my documents and armed with caffeine to give it my best. Since I live outside of Paris-proper, I was requested to attend the class in Nanterre, which is just outside La Defense and kind of a pain-in-the-neck to get to from our place (especially early in the morning). Nonetheless, I woke up on time and headed out the door with fifteen minutes spared for inevitably getting lost in the black hole that is La Defense. But, despite my good intentions to make it to training day in a timely fashion, I was late. In keeping with my recent bus luck, the bus to the tramway did not arrive when the "real-time" indicator indicated, but instead, 10 minutes later. And, when I finally arrived at La Defense, it was already 5 minutes 'til, and the second bus was (you guessed it) late by five minutes. Luckily, I wasn't the only one running behind, and when I arrived at 9:20, the class hadn't even started.

I was a little skeptical about the guy leading the training course. He was oddly dressed in a purple corduroy button-up, faded black jeans with a homemade hem, a Brighton-style leather belt, white sport socks and shiny, black shoes. He unenthusiastically gave us a breakdown of the day's schedule, cursing and then tossing out the dry-erase markers that stopped working after each new word (it seriously irks me when people throw perfectly good writing utensils away because they don't understand how they work!). And after a minute or two of unsuccessful attempts to turn his his Power Point presentation into a slide show, he announced that it was time to start the class. He asked us to give a short description of ourselves - our name, our ville, our home country and our profession. I was the only American, but there was a large group of (loud) Slovakians accompanied by a translator, quite a few Moroccans and a couple of North Africans.

After our intros, class began, and my initial skepticism flew out the window. Even though I couldn't understand every single word our civic trainer was spouting, I was seriously captivated by all the information he was so passionately filling my brain with. He knew his stuff. And, it was so easy to listen to him rattle off dates and names on a subject that we all had some previous (albeit limited) knowledge of. It probably helped that he started by giving us a full history lesson of the world, starting with prehistoric times. I never really liked History class (I know, gasp!!), but for once I was really curious. He talked of Vikings and Barbarians, of Neanderthals and Cro-Magnons, and of the migration of humans across the world. The time flew. He talked right through our first scheduled break without anyone taking notice, until the antsy young immigrant sitting to my right asked if we could have a p'tit pause. By the time lunch arrived (nothing fancy, just some chicken, fries, salad and yogurt), we had barely covered the Moyen Age!

He covered a lot of important French milestones in history, but for the most part I felt like he was giving more of a European history lesson than a French civic lesson. When he finally got to the fifth (current) Republic, it was 3:30 and we were due for our second break. As thorough and interesting as his presentation was, I think it would've served the training more to be a little less long-winded. I appreciated the random trivia and interesting anecdotes he threw out, but towards the end of the day, I was getting tired of all the tangents, and both my neighbor and I were getting annoyed with all the Etats-Unis d'Amerique comparisons he was so blatantly making.

Still, training day was far better than I expected, and I felt like I came away with more knowledge about France (and Europe) than I had before. I learned that a good way to become the president of France is to be Prime Minister first; that the executive branch of government never deals with issues of justice; that Versailles had something like 6000 servants and workers for its 2000 residents. And, perhaps the most interesting thing I learned is that regular "encounters" with a mistress is good for the health of a king, and thereby French men, in general (or at least it was). Which really explains a lot about the basic principles of life in France.

Central-Texans can always remember the last time it snowed. Sure, there was that frosty mush in February 2004, but the last time it really snowed in Austin was back in 1985...or something. My mom has pictures of a fat, three-year-old me, bundled up in a pink coat and matching knit bonnet, sitting in a heap of white next to a two-foot snow man. I'll have to dig up that picture and post it someday. Today, we had the opportunity to snap a few photos of our own in the snow (but they didn't really turn out). There were no heaps of white covering cobblestone, but there was enough snow to make me feel like a kid who's never seen snow. And, since I can't really remember that day in 1985, I'd say that seeing snow for the first time from the warmth of your own living room window is really like seeing it for the first time. I'm pretty sure it snowed in Kansas and Dallas once while I was visiting family, too, but my excitement and awe never abate, and it somehow feels different now that I live here. I suppose if I'd grown up in a colder climate, or went skiing instead of sunbathing for the holidays, I'd feel less enamored by it all. But, I didn't. Neither did my mom, and since it's her birthday today, I called her the moment I laid my eyes on the falling snow (which was something like 6 AM for her) to wish her a happy birthday and share my childish excitement. Of course, she was still in bed and didn't answer her phone, but I left the standard ten-minute message and am looking forward to our conversation this evening.

Happy birthday, mum! Thank you for always radiating your young spirit, musical personality and infectious smiles. And, thanks for the snow. I love you!