The First few days (a recollection of mostly french people)
I thought, for the sake of the future, I should document my first two weeks at Penn State. Pictures of people who matter really only to me will follow. Here it is.
Thursday, August 31: I arrive at Penn State; mum and dad hang around for-EVER. Things don't shake up until dinnertime, when I meet Billy (Jolly asian boy), and his gorgeous male compatriot, Nicolas. Nicolas, unfortunately, has a girlfriend (I did not discover this until the next day, though). Her name is Alice LeGrand. I wish it was spelled "Alix," because that is the most amazing way to spell Alice EVER. However, it is just Alice. She's an amazing person, though.
The lovely Alice LeGrand: kind, intelligent, and elegant. (all the french students are? I normally feel inordinately graceful or prissy; they make me feel like a hog)
Nicolas De Lovinfosse: boyish, mischevious, with the heart of a saint. He's so so so considerate and nice and cool, and he has the sexiest french accent I've ever heard in my entire life. Bar none. The first night, we talked all about how much we love Sigur-Ros, Radiohead, and all the rest. We both hated ( ), loved Agaetis Byrjun and Takk. I was enchanted.
That Night, I went with Rishi and Sasha to Rishi's friend Tom Pellegrini's house, where I got promptly smashed; pretty much as drunk as I've ever been around other people. After taking everybody's girlfriends with me to the porch and getting MORE drunk, I watched Waiting, which was really funny for anybody who's been in the restaurant industry. I was driven home in the wee hours, and went to bed for my first night after achieving more than I ever thought I would my first day (socially).
Friday, September 1: Trying not to seek out the French students, I avoided bothering anybody all morning and early afternoon. I walked around downtown, bought a pair of cowboy boots, and found myself in the record store buying a copy of Sigur Ros's unheard-of EP: Saeglopur. Listening to that in my grey bedroom in the afternoon, rain coming down outside, Nicco came into my room. We drank some Darjeeling and I discovered that Alice was his girlfriend (internal swearing) and that they were all business majors, etc. That night we all went to dinner and then watched a really shitty movie called Over the Hedge at the HUB. Also I met French students Prisille (extremely nice, laughed easily at all my jokes (endlessly virtuous thing to do)) and Pierre.
Saturday, September 2: I don't remember the morning at all, but that I and the French students ate brunch together, and I had a very awkward lonely conversation with Pierre until everybody else arrived. Ugly.
Later, I hung out with Rishi--he introduced me to Jason, his housemate who looks like a blonde (male) version of Liz Mast or maybe Joseph-Gordon-Levitt. He was straight. I wanted to cry. (This whole ordeal sounds impossibly pathetic, but I was really emotional that night for some reason and I made like this REALLY strong attachment to this Jason kid...in like a half-hour! I had assumed he was gay, blah blah blah. stupid thing to do)
Sunday, September 3: I was really bored this day. I went to the library in the early afternoon, I read a little in Nicco's room, and that evening I think I just got really bored, lonely, and anxious for classes to start because I was sick of bothering the french kids.
Monday, September 4: This day began with Gayle calling me. We went out to eat Korean, we went to Wal-Mart and the pet-store, and I bought a lot of shit. I straightened my hair, but it looked like shit. I went to dinner with the french students.
So, these were my first few days here. I've met a whole lot more people since, but the French are my neighbors and my surrogate family. I follow them like a stray dog, I listen to their conversations with the distinct inability to do anything but pick up the odd "nous," "avec," or "deteste!" I sometimes grow tired of them, I mostly adore them. When I sit at a table and I am the only one who speaks only one language, I feel like I have only one dimension. Someone once said to learn a second language is to gain a second soul--I have only one soul, a very English soul, and many small pieces of other souls; Japanese, Italian, French; even Mandarin, or Finnish. But I am among those who have two or three souls; and I feel the way third graders feel around fifth graders--revering those numbers that seem so concrete and humongous, like the karats of gold or the ranks of officers--this is the way I feel insecure around them. They are royalty and I am a mouse in their wardrobe.
Thursday, August 31: I arrive at Penn State; mum and dad hang around for-EVER. Things don't shake up until dinnertime, when I meet Billy (Jolly asian boy), and his gorgeous male compatriot, Nicolas. Nicolas, unfortunately, has a girlfriend (I did not discover this until the next day, though). Her name is Alice LeGrand. I wish it was spelled "Alix," because that is the most amazing way to spell Alice EVER. However, it is just Alice. She's an amazing person, though.
The lovely Alice LeGrand: kind, intelligent, and elegant. (all the french students are? I normally feel inordinately graceful or prissy; they make me feel like a hog)
Nicolas De Lovinfosse: boyish, mischevious, with the heart of a saint. He's so so so considerate and nice and cool, and he has the sexiest french accent I've ever heard in my entire life. Bar none. The first night, we talked all about how much we love Sigur-Ros, Radiohead, and all the rest. We both hated ( ), loved Agaetis Byrjun and Takk. I was enchanted.
That Night, I went with Rishi and Sasha to Rishi's friend Tom Pellegrini's house, where I got promptly smashed; pretty much as drunk as I've ever been around other people. After taking everybody's girlfriends with me to the porch and getting MORE drunk, I watched Waiting, which was really funny for anybody who's been in the restaurant industry. I was driven home in the wee hours, and went to bed for my first night after achieving more than I ever thought I would my first day (socially).
Friday, September 1: Trying not to seek out the French students, I avoided bothering anybody all morning and early afternoon. I walked around downtown, bought a pair of cowboy boots, and found myself in the record store buying a copy of Sigur Ros's unheard-of EP: Saeglopur. Listening to that in my grey bedroom in the afternoon, rain coming down outside, Nicco came into my room. We drank some Darjeeling and I discovered that Alice was his girlfriend (internal swearing) and that they were all business majors, etc. That night we all went to dinner and then watched a really shitty movie called Over the Hedge at the HUB. Also I met French students Prisille (extremely nice, laughed easily at all my jokes (endlessly virtuous thing to do)) and Pierre.
Saturday, September 2: I don't remember the morning at all, but that I and the French students ate brunch together, and I had a very awkward lonely conversation with Pierre until everybody else arrived. Ugly.
Later, I hung out with Rishi--he introduced me to Jason, his housemate who looks like a blonde (male) version of Liz Mast or maybe Joseph-Gordon-Levitt. He was straight. I wanted to cry. (This whole ordeal sounds impossibly pathetic, but I was really emotional that night for some reason and I made like this REALLY strong attachment to this Jason kid...in like a half-hour! I had assumed he was gay, blah blah blah. stupid thing to do)
Sunday, September 3: I was really bored this day. I went to the library in the early afternoon, I read a little in Nicco's room, and that evening I think I just got really bored, lonely, and anxious for classes to start because I was sick of bothering the french kids.
Monday, September 4: This day began with Gayle calling me. We went out to eat Korean, we went to Wal-Mart and the pet-store, and I bought a lot of shit. I straightened my hair, but it looked like shit. I went to dinner with the french students.
So, these were my first few days here. I've met a whole lot more people since, but the French are my neighbors and my surrogate family. I follow them like a stray dog, I listen to their conversations with the distinct inability to do anything but pick up the odd "nous," "avec," or "deteste!" I sometimes grow tired of them, I mostly adore them. When I sit at a table and I am the only one who speaks only one language, I feel like I have only one dimension. Someone once said to learn a second language is to gain a second soul--I have only one soul, a very English soul, and many small pieces of other souls; Japanese, Italian, French; even Mandarin, or Finnish. But I am among those who have two or three souls; and I feel the way third graders feel around fifth graders--revering those numbers that seem so concrete and humongous, like the karats of gold or the ranks of officers--this is the way I feel insecure around them. They are royalty and I am a mouse in their wardrobe.