good times, ever rolling

Life has been really fucking good for the last week.

Example: one of my friends from Brest passed through Morlaix on Wednesday with a carload of American friends, en route to Rennes. I invited myself along, had a nice little soiree in Rennes and passed the day of St. Patty's there. However, I have proved myself a sub-par Irish American in the following categories:

1.) I didn't wear green, because I went to Rennes at the last minute and just wore the clothes I was wearing for two days.
2.) I didn't go out for the mad fete of St. Patty's that eve because I had to haul ass back to Morlaix so I could wake up ungodly early to start my long Friday morning of teaching.
3.) I bought a pair of shoes with the British flag on them...on St. Patty's day! For shame!

Thursday during the day in Rennes was awesome. I ended up meeting a college mate of my friend Matt who is ALSO from Northern California. She was incredibly cool, and we just spent the day shopping around, drinking cafés, looking at people, comparing notes on weird franco-experiences. I smoked joints madly and publicly, she was unable to partake (some crazy promise she made to her dad...some people are so unlucky to be so principled!).

Then it was off to Brest again Friday afternoon. I spent a good share of the afternoon soaking up the sun and chatting with my Irish lovah Elaine, mother of my future children (Pubshag and Penumbra) and generally chilling out quite pleasantly. I was still tired from walking around all day, but Imani, Elaine and I ended up at some crazy French hippy party waaaaaaaay outside town. I managed to catch a second wind and stay up til what I considered a very respectable hour (3 am), but we anglophones were the first to crash. The fete was illuminating because we met real French people with actual herb instead of fawking hashish, which was cool/inspiring. Also, there was a whole crazy pack of cute French boys so we were rather enjoying ourselves, myself and the recently-cut-loose ladies.

We didn't get back into Brest until Saturday afternoon, but we still managed a respectable sortie that evening. I caught up with my Welsh roomie, Matt, who had been kidnapped by the filles anglaises (though only ONE of them is actually English, they are commonly known as the filles anglaises). As they seem want to do, they spent the entire day drinking and watching rugby. Truly, to see kids with the wherewithall to drink like bastards for TWELVE HOURS is fucking inspiring. I myself coveted their drunkenness, tried to fall in with their example with six pints in two hours, got a little too wasted and had to sleep at hottie Espagnole Magui's boyfriend's house. Whoops!

Sunday was quite chill, had a visit to the plage, but it was the murkiest of the three days of gorgeous. But still a beautiful day for Bretagne in general.

SO EXCITED about the next two weekends: this weekend it is Quimper, then Nantes for the hotness of the Le Tigre/Gravy Train show on Saturday, then possibly to La Rochelle on Sunday, since we have a long weekend due to Easter (we get 'Good Monday' off). Then the first weekend in April I'm going to Rennes again, staying with some cool, random American woman I know through more than a few degrees of seperation. But most of my peeps are going to be in Rennes as well, so it'll still be very sortie-ish.

And I am done for today and tomorrow is my fave work day of the week (even though I have to be in class at 8! such is my love of teaching!).

Oh shit! Bloggybabes, I forgot I didn't yet drop this bomb on ye! There is a tiny sliver of a chance that I will come back to France next year. I'm applying to be an English assistant prof dealio in Rennes for the next school year. Significant raise, significantly cooler city, and I would get to do a lot of the travelling that I didn't get around to this time. We'll see how it all goes - I'm trying not to be overly optimistic. But the good thing is, even if it doesn't work out, I'm going back to the US and that's what I want, too!

Okay, this concludes today's crazy ole entry.