a drumroll for the rain, s'il vous plaît

I'd like to dedicate a post to Bordeaux's climate. For the most part, it's on the mark with what I expected from it. Temperate, sandy soil, windy--the sorts of things one expected from the Atlantic coast.

But Bordeaux's weather is a tricky, two-faced little monster. It rains an average of five or six times per day, I'd say. And it rarely rains unless it's [drumroll] sunny. That's ride. The old two-for-one sun and rain routine. At least it's not too cold.

Ah, that's right. It IS freaking cold sometimes. Mornings and evenings are brutal. I came a bit under-prepared for this chilliness with only an ultra-thin North Face fleece and a faux leather bomber jacket. Today I bought a really great wintery-yet-not-too heavy coat from H&M. Because I found it in the kids' department, it was trés cheap, too.

Colin is out of town this weekend visiting a French woman who was once an exchange student in Akron and lived with his family. Stephanie and I were invited out by three new friends of ours (Vince, his fraternal twin, and another kid whose name we're not sure was ever given to us), but Stephanie thinks [insert French name here] got my phone number wrong and we have yet to hear from them. I guess it's not too late yet because last night we met them as they were on their way out around 23:00. It could end up being a sleepy night in.

Ethan called me today to tell me that he and Monique (his host mother) will pick me up from my dorm at noon tomorrow to go dine at their house. I'm very excited to meet their family, but also disappointed that I may not make it to the market on the quay. It starts early, so if tonight ends up being one without plans, it's straight to bed for me.

Classes start Monday and I finally have my schedule set nearly in stone. Let's call it wet concrete. I have an 8:30 class Monday through Thursday, but I have most afternoons completely free. Somehow I ended up with a night class on Tuesdays. It focuses on literature written in the French language but not originating in France, so we're studying a lot of authors from the Maghreb (French-colonized north Africa), etc. The professor of that class, and of many of my other classes, is Mme. Abdelkader. She's this drop-dead gorgeous woman of Arab decent who gave me my interview during placement testing. I really liked her immediately, and she also highly complimented my speaking abilities. Not only that, but as I was leaving her office, I noticed several boxes of my favorite perfume, Lolita Lempicka, sitting on a shelf. Did I mention that in a previous post? Obviously we're a match made in heaven.