Veteran's Day is for Lovers

I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before. Well, I do know why. Before Him (as in boyfriend, not God… just wanted to clear that up), I didn’t have a veteran to go out with on Veteran’s Day. But tonight, staring openly at all the men in uniforms packed as tightly as possible at our local Chili’s, I had a revelation.

As a former single girl, I know how hard it is to find the right mix of funny, smart and good-looking. I believe the saying “you have to kiss a lot of frogs to find a prince” is not only a cliché: it is a fact of life. Women throughout the ages have used sports bars, bookstores and supermarkets as hunting ground for this reason. The more men these locals attract, the better a girl’s chance is of finding one that strikes the right balance. You know what they haven’t tried (aka the revelation you’ve been impatiently reading to finally see)?

Veteran’s Day.

Think about it. At no other time do more single, employed, and hopefully attractive men travel in packs to restaurants and bars to get their free meal or beer. In addition, because they get that free stuff, they are more likely to splurge on something (or someone) else: say, by buying that cute girl sitting next to him a drink? It’s GENIUS I tell you.

So, Ladies, get dressed and get out. It’s time to celebrate our troops.

P.S. I am aware, like in any other social group on the planet, that some military men are less than ideal. My advice? Listen for the word “Reservist.” What that means is he did his time and then, asap moved to part-time to pursue other career-advancing opportunities. Hopefully, med school.

Happy Veteran’s Day!

Steph

PPS This post is meant in fun. You remember fun, right?

NaNoWriMo and November in general

Bonjour mes petites chou-chous!

Some time has passed since we've spoken, and while I could go on and on about what a rough couple of months it has been, I'll update you on the positive:

1. I have had not one but two freelance editing gigs in the past month! It may not seem like much, but it was a boost of confidence I sorely needed. It is so nice to get paid for something you do naturally, lol!

2. In an effort to get my butt in gear, I am participating in NaNoWriMo (aka National Novel Writing Month!) The goal is to write 50,000 words in one month. The real goal is to sit down, shut up and write until the end of the month. I don't care how many I get before the end of the month as long as I sit down to write EVERY DAY. In an effort to keep me honest I will post my progress everyday just before bed. Please be kind.

What are your goals for November? 

Chocolate!!!

In case you needed another reason to save the rain forest, here’s something that may pique your interest: chocolate. The cacao plant is incredibly sensitive to climate and the rain forest is one of the few places it flourishes.

Don’t worry, this isn’t a guilt trip. It is only one of the many things I learned while I drooled over the Chocolate exhibit at the Sam Noble Oklahoma Museum of History. A mix of information about chocolate conservation and the history of the decadent treat drew a large crowd on Sunday.

Beautiful illustrations of the origins of the cacao (ka- kaow) plant and its early place in society lined the entrance. Each room thereafter took a step forward in time, showing the evolution of the value and purpose of chocolate. Interactive displays explained the use of the cacao beans as money and encouraged children to plan dinner based on the price of each ingredient they’d need. Other rooms contained global chocolate artifacts such as Spanish chocolate-stirring sticks (molinillo) and chocolate serving pots from Europe.

The weirdest thing I learned was that early chocolate-lovers went to “chocolate houses” the way we hang out in coffee shops today. I thought Starbucks was expensive but going to the chocolate house was only afforded by the wealthy and *dramatic pause* usually only men were permitted. Our “delicate constitution” or general "inferiority" probably had something to do with it. If women weren’t allowed in, when and, more importantly, how did it become such a vital part of our lives? I know, maybe, one female who doesn’t feel seduced by chocolate. It must be a repressed thing. Perhaps if they’d just given up the goods back then, we wouldn’t be so crazy today.

Of course, after you’ve wandered your way out of the exhibit, you are obligated to go to the gift shop (which you can smell when you walk by) to check out their purchasable exhibit of chocolate paraphernalia from around the world. I picked up chocolate-covered wine grapes and you’d better believe I will be tasting wine with them. ;)

Visit the Chocolate Exhibit at the Sam Noble Oklahoma Museum of History in Norman, OK Monday through Saturday 10 a.m. to 5 p.m. or Sunday 1 to 5 p.m until the exhibit leaves September 12th. Students get in free and adults are just $5.

By Request

France, as far as I’m concerned, was the best decision for me. I learned a lot about self-confidence, my culture as compared to several others and a love for teaching and learning languages. It would take probably another novel to describe my time in Clermont Ferrand, so we’ll just go through a typical day in the life.

In the morning, I wake up in my little “chambre huit” or “room 8” in the dorms. It is literally a room about the width of my arm span. I have a bed that is perfectly Stephanie-sized. Anyone bigger than me would tumble off. Partitioned behind the bed, I have a little “lavabo” where I wash my hands, my plates and the occasional piece of laundry. The closet is across from the lavabo and is about the same size. Luckily, I only packed for about two weeks. I wash these clothes once a week in a little laundry room down the hill and wear them again. I do have a wall-sized window and a large desk where I can sit and watch le tram go by. In the winter, I took le tram everywhere but once it warmed up, I just walked.

My favorite meal by far is breakfast because I buy a box of croissants or almond pastries or apricot pastries every week. I don’t have a refrigerator, but the super marché (ATAC) is across the bridge and milk here doesn’t go bad as fast as American milk so I can buy a smaller container to last me a few days.

Then I head down the hall and pray there aren’t any boys in the showers. Though there are four stalls, I’ve gotten stuck next to a guy enough times to know how disgusting they are in the shower. I also want to shower before the femmes du chambres arrive. They will stand outside the shower muttering and tapping their feet impatiently until you leave. The same goes for the toilets, which are right next door and set up just like the showers. You have to supply your own toilet paper.

After all that, I gather all my papers, etc and start my walk to school. I’m not sure exactly how far Blaise Pascal is from the dorms but it took me about 15-20 minutes every morning to get there on foot. I like walking in the morning because there is a great view of the mist rising off the mountains from the bridge. I’m in level 3 of 6 in terms of speaking French. That means I can carry a basic conversation and read Glamour in French but I’d have a hard time talking about technical subjects. My classmates are all foreign. Most of them are Chinese and, though friendly, prefer to talk among themselves. I hang out with the four who aren’t. First there’s Marta, a 30-something Mexican doctor who fell in love with a man from Clermont and moved to marry him. Next is Khai, a Vietnamese programming guy who is also in his 30s but looks like he’s around 14. Khai is nicknamed “Khai-sourire” or “Smiley Khai” because he giggles at everything. I think he looks a little like Yoda. He giggled about that too. Then there is Huan Chen. She’s from Tawain and wants to study fashion in Paris. She is always dressed to kill but maintains a heart of gold. She also lives at the dorms so we walk home together most days. Diego is from Brazil and it is from him that I learn everything you’ve heard about Brazilians is true. He’s equally gorgeous and pompous and has made it his mission to see that everyone falls madly in love with him. Unfortunately, he also sleeps through most of class, which hinders his mission considerably. When he isn’t snoring, he writes “Steph hearts Diego” all over our group assignments, much to the enjoyment of Khai. Marta puts him in his place for me. Huan Chen rolls her eyes and whispers that he’s probably drunk to make me laugh. Here we all have a section (mine is 3C) so we all take the same classes together and by the end of the semester, I’m more than sorry I can’t take them with me.

Class here is two hours long with a 15 minute break in between. I have about one a day, though each deals with a different aspect of the French language. I have Grammar, Speech, Listening, Writing and Regional Culture. Naturally, culture was one of my favorites.

The rest of my day is spent hanging out with the other American exchange students, my 3C classmates, skyping, reading and eating. I skype the family every Sunday at 4 pm Paris time, which is 9 am their time. On Wednesday, I skype my boyfriend at around the same time. We don’t have internet in the dorms, so we have to go down to batiment A (building A) to connect. That’s the building with the laundry room, the cafeteria, and the main office. The internet in Batiment A connects for about five minutes at a time, if you are lucky. Most of us ended up trekking across the bridge to the only American restaurant in town for free wifi: Subway. So I grab a late lunch at Subway every Wednesday and Sunday to talk to America.

So that’s about it. On breaks I did a little traveling with friends and my family came to pick me up after finals. Waiting at Charles De Galle, sitting on my luggage watching the terminal for my family to come through was really one of my favorite parts. I got to share Paris and Clermont with them and then travel on to Switzerland and Italy.

I hope this makes up for lost time at least a little bit. I have infinitely more stories of France but if you’ve been sitting in one place while you were reading this, it is definitely time for a stretch.

R & C

What makes the writer’s mind so fascinating is that you can’t turn it off. When you’re writing, the outline, plot twists and characters are all you can think of. When you aren’t writing… the outline, plot twists and characters are all you can think of. You’re supposed to write what you know. To know things you have to do things or talk to people who have done things or read about how to do things. Everything is a potential story. Living for a story is invigorating…and exhausting. It is important, then, to have other hobbies; the more concentration necessary—the better. Then, when you come back, the chaos (I liken my creative brain to a news room, each reporter cell is in charge of a facet of my novel. P.S. The editor is the biggest bitch I’ve ever met) has quieted. A few employees are on vacation and/or napping at their desks and I have a brief period of time when I can write with abandon.
That’s my excuse and I’m stickin’ to it.
My escape from my escape is crafting. Everything from home décor to desserts excites me. I think it’s because there is a smaller time commitment involved and I have a tangible finished product I can show off immediately. Plus, these projects require more handiwork than brain power. Aaaah, serenity.
Last weekend, I made a wall clock from an old vinyl and scrapbook supplies (the males in my family haven’t stopped twitching in pain. It was a Disney record, ok?!) It came out so well, I had to fight off a few attempts to abscond with my new project.
Today, inspired by the genius mind behind Bake at 350 ,  I made White Chocolate Peanut Butter Truffles. I adapted her recipe, which you can search for under “Chocolate Raspberry Truffles,” and basically created super classy inside-out Reeses. Still, they were delicious. I’m going to use them tomorrow to bribe myself to finish another short story. I’d like to promise pictures...but I don’t know if they’ll last long enough.  After that, I’ll move on to card-making.
     What do you do to relax?

Blue Bloods by Melissa De La Cruz Book Review

Goodbye Edward, hellooo Gabriel. According to Anne Rice, angels will soon replace vampires as the sex icon of the literary world. If Rice is ready to give up her creatures of the night it must be true. What to read before the great switch from fanged bad boys to gorgeous guys with wings? Try a compromise: The Blue Blood Series by Melissa De La Cruz.
In this novel, the vampires are fallen angels bound to Earth as a punishment for siding with The Morningstar (Satan) in the battle of Heaven and Hell. They are cursed to remain until they have advanced the human race to God’s satisfaction, when they believe they will be taken back into Heaven. The problem is that they’ve become indulgent and neglectful of their mission. Reincarnating after every human life cycle with access to eternally expanding wealth could do that to anyone. Among the society papers, designer wardrobes and penthouses, however, evil is approaching. It will be up to the new generation of Blue Bloods (good vamps have blue blood running through their veins) to convince their elders of the danger. Ultimately they must choose between their charmed lives and the fate of their race.
Most famous for her Au Pair series, De La Cruz delves deep into theology and mythology for her Blue Bloods novels. She delivers the world-building depth of urban fantasy that Twilight lacked while her fashion roots peek through the story to give the books a kick of Gossip Girl double-edged fame and fortune.
Blue Bloods is a fun book to curl up with on a blah day. It's a quick read with a fast-paced plot and a cast of memorable characters torn between adolescence and a powerful responsibility.

Spring Cleaning

In the world of full plates, I might as well be trying to haul the buffet back to the table. I'm taking 19 hours of school (x2 for homework), attempting a new novel, working with another author on her children's story (internship), supposed to be looking for a "real" job for May and cleaning up after a Border Collie who sheds cotton balls on an hourly basis. Not three weeks into the semester, my boyfriend found me curled up on the kitchen floor with my hands over my face.

Stress and college students are practically synonyms. Experts tell us that a little stress is good. Stress is the sharp prod we often need to get things done. Generational and culture developments, however, have upped the importance of perfection. Coffee, energy drinks, prescriptions and even hard drugs are used to keep people conscious long after they should be. Therefore, there is no excuse for less than Superwoman. At one point or another, however, everyone cracks.

We know life is more than work, work and more work. We know sleep is important, as is healthy eating and exercise. So why haven't we done anything about it? Part of me believes we crave stress like an addiction. If we aren't going like the Energizer Bunny, we're slouching on the couch. Stress is also kind of a rush. We feel like Batman in a corporate race against time. I can't stop everyone. As for me, I quit.

Resolutions don't work for me, so let’s call this "Stephanie's Spring Cleaning."As I clean the apartment, the dog, the blog, I will clean my life of stress. I cannot get rid of all my obligations, of course. Instead, I will manage them in the same way I rationed my Halloween candy as a kid. Stuff it where I can't see it and take out one a day. Two, if I really deserve it.

I'll break down everything in my aesthetically-pleasing agenda because I know that I am drawn to color and organizational tools. For me, highlighters are better in green. Sticky notes are more effective if they are in the shape of a speech bubble. If expensive fountain pens turn you on, use them to fill out a boring report. At least you will feel stylish while you complete it.

Then, on my honor, I will look at the "Today" page and only the "Today" page. Each time I finish something I will slash through it with Zorro-like gusto. If I only finish one thing that day, I will be proud and reward myself.

I also promise to recognize that an uninspired person is an unmotivated person. Before I start on said work, I may start my work day with the following:

1. Going for a long walk.
2. Going to Zumba or simply putting on my workout clothes and cranking up Lady GaGa. I will dance like a fool until there is simply no energy left for stress regardless of the strange looks I get from the dog.
3. Reading Deadline Dames or any other subject -related blog/magazine/book I find.
4. Talking to my Very Important People so my "I am loved" tank is full.
5. Meditating (napping) for 30 minutes. I will set the timer so I won't need a clock in the room.
6. Writing something I want to write instead of starting with something I have to write.

One thing I won't do is stress about trying to be stress-free. I promise to forgive myself if I slip up. It's easy to start in when someone asks about your day or talks about their own problems. It will take a while. I don't expect to be cured before the semester is over. I hope, however, that if taking the time to relax, it will get easier.

Have a reduced-stress weekend, everybody! Tell me what you do to unwind in the comments.