Ok….so Kelly seems to have forgotten all of her many, many fans. BUT, never fear I have not. So, I am here to update all of Kelly’s loving fans. (man it’s hard to type on this French keyboard=even after 3 whole days of French keyboard use!!)

So, Kelly’s friend got in around 22h30 and then Kelly proceeded to feed her cheese and baguette. Self-absorbed airlines think people don’t need dinner between 18h30 and 21h30. Next day went to marché and ate chaussons aux pommes, bought cherries, and avocadoes-you know you’re jealous. The next day went to a French evangelical baptism. Swimming pool dunking in southern France=AWESOME

Kelly’s friend has been learning French children’s games. Kelly jumped rope. It was pretty cool. Mamie brought us some genuine French crêpes (look the e has a hat-Kelly says ’sweet’). Kelly also is eating chocolate in bed and making me type her blogpost so if you don’t like it blame Kelly.

Yesterday “les deux mousquetaires” went to Salon and Aix-en-Provence in search of chocolate, as you should know from a previous sentence (have you been paying attention?) we found some. One of the chocolate shops had an enrober. This enrober was in the front of the shop.  The shop smelled like chocolate.  I was in heaven…not literally.  We went to about 3 or 4 chocolate shops (one of which was in Salon the rest in Aix).  We ate lunch in Aix at an Italian sandwich shop.  Our sandwiches had pancetta-Kelly wants you to know.  The owner came up to me and told me to put my sandwich back in the bag while I ate it…oops.  Evidently, I don’t know how to eat in France-another misstep by me-they seem to be common these days.

So then we tried to go back home…but, due to rude bus drivers, strange schedules, and yes, cough, another misstep by me ( I do know how to count!) we missed the bus…boo.  Happily, there was another bus 20 minutes later and we didn’t die a lonely, hot, sweaty death in Aix.  We wouldn’t have starved, however, because we had chocolate.  YUM!

When we got home we drank some water and ate a few chocolates, ok, well maybe half of our stash.  Then this morning we got up early…well you know 10 o’clock.  Now we’re eating chocolates again and writing, or in Kelly’s case backseat writing, utterly ridiculous blog posts.

08h00:  I get to wake up and check my e-mail.  I usually have an e-mail or two and at least one Facebook notification.  The best e-mails are the surprise ones, from people sending a quick note just to say hello.  I need to do that more often myself.

10h00:  On Sunday mornings at ten, I go to church and see all of the little old French ladies who squeeze me and call me “ma grande”.

12h00:  Lunch.  If I’m at school, I get a tomato-and-mozzarella sandwich.  If they have soup, though, the sandwich is quickly and easily forgotten.  That man makes a killer French onion soup.

13h00:  People in the States are up and about and I can usually chat with Mom for half-an-hour or so.  We say silly things to make each other laugh and then we talk about how great our men are.  She encourages me to take on one thing at a time and not to look for more things to worry about, which is really helpful advice when planning a wedding.  I always leave our conversations thinking about how much I love my mother.

18h00 – 22h00:  I get to chat or video chat with various people (mostly Alexander).  Google video, Skype, Gizmo5, and Eyeball Chat get a lot of use chez moi.  I’m usually on the computer for these hours;  I try to make myself available to talk.  We have dinner at about 17h30, though, so I take a break then.

My time spent on the computer is focused on communicating with people in the States.  The rest of the day is all about French, and my poor brain is still having a hard time making the switch from French to English and then back again.  So if I say a word that makes no sense at all (“discoveraties” for example), bear with me, will you?  It’s tough being stuck between two continents and two languages.

One for each day of the week.

1.  Avocados!  They’re green, they look like nubbly pears, they taste really good mixed with cream cheese and salsa- how could they get better?  THEY CAN: they grow on trees.  Seriously.

2.  Gnocchi.  They’re simple to make, satisfying to eat, and look like little pillows.  Your hands get all potatoey and floury when you make them, and that, my friends, is the sign of a good recipe.

3.  Bread with seeds and other surprises inside.  I like eating bread and suddenly discovering a sunflower seed, or flax seeds.  It’s an adventure in every bite!  Also, it’s really good with a nice soft camembert.  Better than white bread!

4.  Butter.  If this list were in any kind of order, butter would be king.  Let’s all take a moment to think on the many delights of butter…  Now don’t you wish you had some to eat right now?  I know I do.

5.  Sweet potatoes.  They grow UNDER the earth.  That’s almost enough explanation right there- but there’s more to them than that.  They’re like potatoes, but sweet.  And orange.  They taste good with butter.  Need I say more?  I think not- but I will.  They also taste good with molasses, apples, pecans, pineapple, pumpkin, and I’m making myself hungry.  Mmm… sweet potatoes…

6.  Milk.  I’ve never especially loved the taste of milk.  It took me a while to get used to drinking it, but I worked at it anyway because it’s just so good.  I speak of the real stuff, of course.  The milk that you have to buy from the farmer, that comes with the cream still in it.  In the summer, there’s almost as much cream as there is milk.  It’s an intensely satiating drink.

7.  Crêpes.  They’re good sweet, but they’re even better savory.  A crêpe filled with ham and cheese, hot and melty, makes for a great dinner.  Throw in a bottle of hard cider and I can’t resist.

Sorry.  :)

I’m still here, going about my daily life, which is slowly but surely becoming more strange.

For starters, I’m in France (did you notice?), and life here is just plain weird sometimes.  I’m still getting used to everything, but things keep changing on me, which makes that difficult.  The latest adventure is the uprising of teachers, professors, and students.  They’re protesting some old laws and some new ones, and they are evidently fed up.  They’ve closed our university- I arrived one day to find all the doors blocked with tables and chairs from the classrooms.  My French course is now being held at another university in town.  They have free classrooms because they also are on strike;  they haven’t blockaded the buildings, though, so we’re learning in style (more comfortable chairs!).

Secondly, I’m supposed to be getting married this summer, and so I’m planning a wedding from afar and carrying on a long-distance relationship via Google video chat.  That’s a whole ‘nother crazy fun story, and if you don’t think it’s at least a bit odd, we might need to have a talk about what you’ve been doing lately.

My wonderful friends are helping me plan this whole thing (by doing all of the work, basically).  I have some weird jobs, though:  a guest list, registries, finding a dress, deciding on a “theme”… do you know how hard it is to decide who to send an invitation to?  Really hard.  There are so many people that I want to invite, but Budget yells at me every time I put a name on the list.  Come on, Budget.  Surely it doesn’t cost that much to print one more invitation?  (NB: Budget does not respond to pleading looks)  Budget insists on church-wide invitations and will only let me send actual paper ones to Extremely Special People Who Would Be Willing to Donate an Organ Were I Dying of Some Unpronounceable Disease.  And family.  (heh heh!  just kidding, family!  You know I love you…)

And registries- I don’t know if I can even explain how weird and difficult it is to write up a list of things that you want people to buy for you.  I have a problem, too, with Stuff.  Stuff bothers me.  I don’t like gadgets, I don’t like clutter, I don’t like knick-knacks.  I keep that sort of thing down to a minimum: stuff I actually use and stuff someone I love gave me.  And yet, here I am, asking for more things that look an awful like Stuff.  I’m having to remind myself of several things (which might seem ridiculous to you, but hey- I’m just ridiculous sometimes):

1.  People like us and want to buy us things to help us start our new life together.  We should make it easier for them by giving them suggestions.

2.  We need forks in order to eat (yeah, I actually had to convince myself to put silverware on the registry).  This leads to…

3.  I’m not being greedy if I put necessary things on the list.  I’m not even being greedy if I put unnecessary things on there- greediness is all about expectation and gratitude.  What exactly is my attitude here, and am I honoring God with it?  Am I helping or hindering us?

That’s my life right now- exciting for me (YAY! I’m so excited!   I get to marry Alexander!!! [only dogs can hear me now]).  Maybe not so exciting for you all- I dunno.  I don’t want this to become a wedding blog, but that’s basically what I think about all day.  Well… when I’m not thinking about Alexander (yes, I am a mushy romantic GIRL).  But I’ll try not to over-do it for you.  :)

I’m having some trouble figuring out this plane ticket thing.  If I try to change the date of my ticket, then my new ticket has to be with the same airline, and I have to pay a change fee plus the difference in fare- $2250.  That, needless to say, is not an option.  The only other thing I can see to do is to cancel the first ticket and buy a new one, but the cheapest one I can find is $1600.

So it’s either that or come back at the end of June like I originally planned (I have no words for how that possibility makes me feel).

Keely: “Wowza!”

Ruth: “Eek!”

Dana: “WHAT???”

Amber: “okay, help me out-what is going on?!?!”

Katherine: “WHAT”  “I mean, congrats!  Really?  Wow.”

Kirsten: “Kelly!!!!!!!!!!!!”

Tami: “Yippee, ya, yeah!”

And from Alexander’s sister, Becca: “My husband realized at lunch that he won’t be the only in-law anymore!!!”

What can I say?  I’m happy to help!

I also got numerous responses like these:  “Wow!”  “Whee!”  “No way!!!!!”  “Yeah!”  “That IS whoa! Tell more!”  “Oh my!”  “What?!”  “That’s wonderful!” and “Woot!”

You people are so much fun to surprise.  I should do this more often.  ;)

I know.  It’s kind of a big surprise- I’m still getting used to it myself.  So if you don’t mind, I’ll tell the story, and you just sit back and relax for a minute, okay?

First things first: his name is Alexander, and he’s my favorite.  (“Favorite what?” you ask.  And my answer to that question is, “Yes.”)  He lives in Virginia and is good friends with my brother Robert.  Robert introduced us, actually, just a short time after they became acquainted.  Our first conversation was about singing the Psalms, and our second was about G.K. Chesterton, and I thought, “Who IS this person?”  We kept running into each other on that visit and having conversations that left me wondering where he had been all my life.  After two or three weeks of this, I had to catch a bus up to Idaho to visit a school I was interested in- a school that Alexander happened to be enrolled in.  So we saw each other a few more times up there, and he drove me to the airport when I had to leave (his brother who was visiting was on my flight).  And I went home.  Back to my Alexander-less life.

We became Facebook friends, and I was having regular arguments with myself, trying to convince myself that we were just friends.  You see, I thought he wasn’t interested in me, and I didn’t want to cause trouble for myself.  As it turned out, that didn’t work- not even one little bit.  (I am not a good listener.)

I made plans to go to France.  I found a family to work for, got my papers together for my visa, started a blog so I could keep in touch with people… When I sent out the e-mail announcing the blog, I told Alexander, too.  He sent me an e-mail back, asking for the story behind this decision.  What would I be doing?  Where was I going?  Why?  &c.  Thus began our Google relationship, which is still not finished (hooray for Google!).  We e-mailed back-and-forth three or four times a week for three months.  And here’s me: completely clueless.  Still thinking he’s not interested.  Still telling myself to sit down and shut up (NOT WORKING).

Then came an e-mail that said he would be taking a break from the internet for a while, and my brain said, “See?  Told you so!  Not interested.”  (absolutely hilarious in hindsight)  Shortly after, I met a charming Frenchman, and proceeded to try to convince myself that Alexander was just a crush, that I should investigate this French guy and see what was going on there.  I went to eat dinner with his family a few times, we had tea at a salon du thé one afternoon, but we mostly laughed at each other while we struggled to communicate.  And you know who was in the back of my mind the whole time?  Who was the standard that I used to measure this guy?  That person used to be my dad, but Alexander had snuck in and replaced him without my realizing it.  Sneaky, sneaky man.

When Alexander came back from his short internet break, we started e-mailing again, and one of the first things that came up was my date with Michael.  (Poor Alexander!)  I half-jokingly said something about Dad not wanting me to live in France the rest of my life, and the response from Alexander shocked me so much that I don’t remember the entire week after.  I must have eaten and slept and gone to school, but all I remember is repeatedly pinching myself and having to keep myself from skipping everywhere instead of walking.  The long and short of what he said is this: you can’t live in France because you have to come back over here so I can marry you.  This is what he had decided during his internet silence.

I said, “Awesome!  And, self?  I am not listening to you anymore.  You are obviously a bit slow.”  He called my dad (AT WORK) and talked to him.  He drove from Virginia to Oklahoma one week-end to meet my mother and talk about everything, get their approval and all that.  We started having actual conversations on Skype (which was great for a while, but now it’s broken.  So a half-hearted hooray! for Skype).

The whole point of that long story (which is extremely interesting to me, but might not be so much to you) is that last night, Alexander Garden asked me to marry him and I said yes.  I said “yes”, because there wasn’t a way to fit all of my affirmative answers into our conversation.  We would probably still be talking, it would take so long to say them all.

We’re getting married in June, in Oklahoma.  I hope you’ll all come and cheer and clap and sing and eat and drink and dance with us, and witness our vows to each other and to God.

I have never before wished for confetti as much as I do right now.

The past couple of days I have been craving starchy things.  We don’t have any bread, and the wind is convincing me not to try to walk to the bakery, so this morning I made gnocchi.  Gnocchi is great fun to make.  I got the recipe from my friend Becky and her cousin Heather, who took some great pictures of their end result.  Here’s the recipe in short:

2 large potatoes, cooked and fluffed

1 egg, lightly beaten

1 cup of flour

Egg the potatoes, and sprinkle on 1/2 to 3/4 cup of the flour.  Mix gently with your hands until it makes a dough.  Roll into snakes and cut into pieces.  Put in boiling water.  The gnocchi will rise to the top when cooked.

Tasty, tasty.

Is the point of a party to see people, or to feed them?

There isn’t a right or wrong answer here, of course.  I’m just interested to hear what you all think.  Maybe you think the point is something entirely different?

I’m fulfilling obligations today, to myself and to others.  That means doing my homework, taking a walk in the sunshine and brisk air, tidying my room, and writing a blog post.  And since I’m having such a hard time coming up with something to write about, you’ll get to hear about my French homework!  (The nerds among you are cheering, I can hear it all the way over here.)

I have three classes, and frankly, two of them are not very interesting.  One is on the history and culture of Provence (my region of France), and it’s not bad, but it’s not terribly exciting either.  The other is my regular class, which covers grammar, writing, reading, and speaking- basic French.  We occasionally get good assignments.  For instance, on Monday we have to turn in our resumés with cover letters attached- all in French, of course.  I don’t have any intention of applying for a job here or anywhere else, so under “desired position”, my resumé says “housewife”.  I have had a lot of fun working on that.

My good class is the phonetics one, with the crazy professor who uses big gestures, talks quickly, and moves his mouth in ways that we students cannot imitate.  Yet.  He’s got curly hair that does whatever it wants, and I would not be surprised to see him wearing the same corduroy pants every day.  He’s just that kind of person, and he is a really fun teacher.

This week’s assignment is just a sheet of paper with a bunch of French words and phrases on it.  When he handed us that paper, I got so excited that I scared the girl sitting next to me.  “What’s wrong with you?!”  “It’s transcription!” I said.  We had to rewrite these words in the International Phonetic Alphabet- one of the funnest exercises ever.  It’s terribly difficult sometimes, and I love it.

And now you know that I’m a nerd just like you.