quiet-ish weekend

Things I am Currently Out of:
-weed
-Bisquick pancake mix
-Money
-coping skills


All things considered, it's been an alright weekend anyway. Friday found me at my lovely German's house, making galettes on their fancy new crepe making thingy. Delish. Matt and I realized we had not set foot in a Morlaix bar since early December, so took it upon ourselves to get our drink on, which was a nice change of pace from...mysteriously not really drinking.

Yesterday, the Morlaix gang (me, Matt, Marie, Carsten and Elias) went to spend the day at the librarian's house, where we were invited for lunch, a long walk around St. Pol de Leon and dinner. The hosting ability necessary for such an event had my hat off long before we rolled into the librarian's house. Though the day was not un-atypically icky with rain for most of the afternoon and big angry clouds all fawking day, the walk was beautiful. My hair is getting longer and longer, and feeling the savage Atlantic wind rip through it reminds me that I am still young and crazy, even though I am beginning to feel as if I were just old and boring. All in all, we spent 10 hours in St Pol, between lunch, walking and the requisite late-night, semi-endless French dinner. It was lovely, but I felt a little disconnected.

Thinking about going home, seeing my people again and spending one last perfect summer in Missoula is occupying a lot of my time. Obviously, this kind of build-up and idealization is going to be hell on my ability to actually enjoy the summer, instead of measuring it against my expectations all the damn time. But, at the same time, I feel like anything will feel remarkable and fun and perfect after this weird shadow-year that I seem to be languishing in.

I've been thinking a lot about this experience, ever since I decided to blatantly rip off the 'I love/ I hate' thing from the marvelous Fulminous. I'm probably going to post those babies throughout next week, for those of you who are not doubt waiting with baited breath.

Since I am only teaching four days a week and we have one random day off in March, I have approximately 39 school days left. It doesn't really seem to make sense, especially since I will not be returning to the US for another three months and change. However, the shrinking number of remaining days will serve to get me out of bed, since my new and popular manifestation of depression is sleeping inhuman amounts (between ten and thirteen hours almost every night).

Anyway, next vacation is just around the corner, and while I will not be making any dreams come true, I will be having a little tour of Brittany and playing it cheap. Which is really the best thing. Apparently, we've been invited to someone's parents' HUGE vacation house in the Gulf de Mourbion (not even bothering with fact checking for the proper spelling). That's all for now, me luvies.