I've made passing references before to how similar I think America and France really are. How this is the real reason why our countries have a more-than-passing distaste for each other, overall, etc.
Today, Anna and I went futon shopping. Because, you know, if we're going to be the hostal, we need the bedding. Fortunately for us, aforementioned shopping is being split-financed by various family members who are going to be visiting in the future sometime. The whole thing works out because they pay less than for a hotel, and we get to have a futon. Of course, nobody gets to have any sex at the house while people are staying here, but no plan is perfect. I don't think Anna's mom and grandmom will mind.
But I digress. To get this futon, we have a couple of options. We can go to Futon Boutique in town, or The Universe of Slumber, etc., also in town, or we can go to the larger, more corporate stores out of town. The suburbs, as it were. So like good anti-corporate world-crusaders, we checked the local, private businesses first. Because they're close, and if it works here, why go somewhere else? Well, that didn't work. Beds are exceptionally expensive in those places, and our sense of community only goes so far. So we went out into the suburbs.
This is what blows my mind: it was exactly like suburban United States of America. In Lattes, Montpellier. I felt like I was in Woodbury (Minnesota) again. There were malls. Everything in English. Huge huge huge department stores, that sell everything. I shit you not, there was a department store (called Carrefour) that is even bigger than Home Depot. Home Depot! The warehouse super-monster to beat all space-wasters, and there are stores in France that are even bigger! I realized that the French are importing our culture, but I never thought Europeans would be putting up a fight on the "who takes up more space" front. I thought that battle was over.
So basically, I'm disillusioned about this. I thought that, of all things that Europeans might be wiser than Americans about, space-consciousness would be right there at the top of the list, and keeping money local would be, like, second-top. To be fair, the French government mandates that big department stores be closed on Sunday, to give the little guys a chance. That's a step in the right direction. The next step would be to not follow Sam Walden's example. But hey, we bought our futon there. Torn between our morals and our bank accounts. Our sense of community goes that far, apparently.

Some towns, you meet them, you fall in love, you never want to leave, you're enchanted. All the rest of your life after you've met, you're happy when you're there, and when you're not, you always harbor a (perhaps secret) desire to go back, to be with the city you love. Other cities, you meet them and you think "Well, she's pretty cool." You feel perhaps indifferent at first, but after you've been together for a few months, you start to realize a change. You're smiling more when you're together with your city. You're signing letters to the city "Love, Donald" instead of "Sincerely, Donald." You have secret places that you share, and fond memories together. You realize that a bond has developed, and maybe someday you'll leave, but you'll always look back happily, and you'll never regret the time that you spent together.
Sometimes, you'd see a town like Montpellier and think, "How could you meet this town and not fall in love?" I'll tell you one way. You get here, and you've got other towns on your mind. Towns where you know people and places. You think, "I've been in so many towns that I love, how could this one really take me and hold me?" And, for a while, this blinds you to the truth of your surroundings. That this town really is all the things you wish for from a town. Even though other towns have fit the bill in the past, this one's here, now, and it works too. After a while, you develop that slow bond, but your preoccupation and hesitation at the beginning has kept you from falling flat out in love. Perhaps that's for the best. Falling flat out in love can be detrimental; it's easy to burn out, to forget what you ever saw at the beginning after the passing of time. Platonic love, friendship love, seems to last longer.

Bonjour tout le monde,
It's been a while since I wrote. No real reason for that. I suppose there are lots of things to say, but last time I sat down to write stuff, it ended up being a preachy sermon about not creating social heirarchies and I deleted the whole thing.
Here's some news: my digital camera works again! I took it apart with a mini screwdriver, and put it back together again, and now it turns on! There is some magic involved in not knowing what you're doing and making something work again just by fiddling with it. Same thing "works" with my computer. Maybe it's the same thing with my entire life. Anyway, Anna and I went to Avignon, and took some
PICTURES
there. It's kind of ironic that the first set of pictures from Montpellier, France, actually come from some other town. But just wait, some more will be on the way.
I hacked my first wireless network yesterday. When I upload this post, it will most likely be from the beautiful Parc Rimbaud, just down the street from my house. This beats, for example, sitting in the street twenty minutes from my house in the middle of downtown, with lots of people around, (and, coincidentally, just across the street from an internet café) just to steal wireless. I think we all agree that parks are better than crowded streets with pooping pigeons overhead for stealing internet. And, of course, the park certainly beats paying for internet. Gasp! Why the hell would I ever do that? When my time is worth so little, and I'm so poor? But don't worry, if any one of my free wireless links goes down, I know of five others that I can use at any point in time. It pays to be wireless savvy. Specifically, it pays about 1.50€ an hour. Which, coincidentally, is about what you make playing in the street, depending on the day of the week and weather.
More later, I'm going to go steal some internet.
-D

We've been eating strange things here in France. This is not because the French are strange, or because we particularly want to try super-different cuisine. It's motivated entirely by price-consciousness. The things that are the absolute cheapest to buy, to eat, to wear, etc., are those things that are used most regularly by the denizens of the area where you happen to want to be buying/eating/wearing/etc. something. In America, eating crackers with brie and Nutella for breakfast, eating salami and roqefort sandwiches and drinking wine for lunch is not the kind of thing one normally does particularly on the cheap. But that's the kind of thing we're eating here, because brie is the cheapest cheese that there is here. And wine, litre for litre, ranges from about as cheap as water (for what would cost about $8 a liter in the States) to about as expensive as soda at a restaurant (what would be a $20-$30 bottle). Of course, there's really expensive wine and cheese and other things, but, as always, they might as well be on Mars, because I'm not about to pay for them.
But try to find a burrito in France, and if you have any success at all, it's probably going to taste strange, and it's definitely going to be expensive. This makes sense, but the net effect is strange. Hey, at least we're eating, which is a big step up from poor people everywhere else. I think I already ranted about how rich the French are, at least here in Montpellier, compared to the Americans with whom I come into contact (most of whom are definitely rich by world and sometimes American standards). So I'll spare y'all.

My gadgets have been a real pain in the ass lately. I don't mean to complain; it seems like that's largely what I've been doing since I got here, but let me just summarize: My camera stopped working. I dunno. It just doesn't turn on. Of the two phones I brought to Europe to use, one doesn't get any signal (I think it's an America-only phone, contrary to what I believed), and the other is blocked by a Canadian phone company, and unblocking phones is illegal in France. Fortunately, my dad's been kind enough to take on the task of trying to get his phone company to unblock the phone there in Canada, thus allowing me to have a (really nice) cell phone in France without having to buy a new one.
My computer is a riot. For one, it won't turn on reliably. I take that back. It turns on semi-reliably, but not when you simply push the power button. No, you have to (get this) unscrew several of the back screws, then turn the power on, then hope that the screen turns on, then screw the screws back in. It doesn't go to sleep anymore, either. So every time you want to take it somewhere, this process gets repeated. Also, either the European power system doesn't sit well with this computer, or all my unscrewing has de-grounded it, but I get mild shocks from the exposed metal parts of the case where the paint has worn away. Ah, the joys of old laptops. I'm going to retire this one when I get back to the states. But hey, free wireless internet is a blessing, and just as close as any internet café. Ironically, there's one internet café with a free wireless hotspot just across the street.
Oh well, I'm still surviving, which goes to show how non-essential to life those items really are. However, I hope nobody was holding their breath on pictures, because between Anna's camera being stolen a couple of months ago, and mine ceasing to function, and our budget not exactly accomodating a new camera, it might be a while (Christmas, family members?) until any visual account of our voyage will take place.
Keep us in your hearts, though.
peace out.
-Donald