This time of the year again…

Last year, I had to participate in a little Thanksgiving game. I’ve decided to redo it this year, except that instead of one letter, I did it with the whole alphabet.
So, here we go. What I’m thankful for, by alphabetical order.

Atheism. I’m thankful for not needing a God to feel happy, thankful and positive.
Boyfriend. Cheesy I know. But still. I have an awesome boyfriend.
Choice. Obviously. I’m thankful for having the choice to have, or not, a baby.
Education. REALLY thankful for not having to go in deep debts to pay for it.
Feminism: I’m thankful for thinking that women and men are equal.
Gay rights. Or at least, I’m thankful for the people who fight for them. Oh, and GATEAU!
Humor. Please, stop taking yourself seriously all the time.
Imagination. I’m thankful for being able to use mine. It’s precious.
KC of course!
Languages. They allowed me to earn money for the last few years. And yeah, I actually majored in English so it might be one of my interests.
Marriage. Wait. Notbeingmarried. Not being married for the wrong reasons.
Nephews. Cuteness world cup winners.
Olivia. Even though she never received my letter (written never sent!). She’s the best.
Parents. I’m thankful for having the best parents on Earth. And they gave me the best siblings.
QT’s beef and cheese stick. Please-dont-judge.
Roommates. Mine have (almost) always been awesome.
Sarcasm. Yep yep yep! Oh, and Science. And Sonic screwdrivers, but that’s another story…
Turtles. I already used M, but by turtles, I really meant Monkeys. They’re awesome.
UMKC. I’m thankful for all the good time I had there, all the great people I met, all the amazing people I worked with.
Vagina. And no, Michigan Reps, this is not a bad word.
Water. Walls around me. Being warm. All the things that I consider normal when they’re not.
X. Y. Z. I seriously think that so far in the alphabet, people were just bored of inventing words…

Et voilà ! So, what’s on YOUR list?

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It’s time for scares It’s time for screams It’s Halloween!

Halloween is an all-USA-party. I never liked it – except for the chocolate part.
Then, I moved to the US and OH LOVE! I just wished I had known some things before going there…

I wished I had known I shouldn’t have…
– told my roommate “no sweetie, you don’t get it, those aren’t Halloween costumes, they’re obviously sexual costumes”. She was right…
– dressed up as a zombie. Not that it isn’t cool (indeed) Just that people don’t care about all the “it’s Halloween I want to dress as something bloody and scary!” thing.
– trick or treated without kids. That was creepy. Still, I got candies.
– arrived at a party at 11pm when they said it was supposed to start at 9pm. Not the French way. Everybody had left already.
– tried a smartish costume. 99% of the people didn’t get the 1% joke.

However, I wished I had known I should have…
– showed my boobs. Or my legs. Or both (wait, both x2) Basically, review your style: you can’t be a regular zombie. You have to be a sexy / slutty zombie. You should be a slutty 1%. Or a slutty Red Riding Hood. You can be anything, as long as it’s slutty. Even Sesame Street, yes (thanks Shay for this one)
– trick or treated WITH kids (but without the slutty costume, obviously) It’s the cutest /  most authentic thing you’ll live. Plus, you’ll get candies.
– arrived at the party at 9pm. It’s Halloween but we have class tomorrow. Or, gotten new friends.

For my USAmerican fellows, if you have a foreigner friend around, or even if you don’t, please, do the followings:
– go to a corn maze. Get lost on purpose.
– jump on haystacks.
– choose your pumpkin wisely. “It has to talk to you“.
– carve a pumpkin.
– carve two pumpkins.
carve as many pumpkins as you like.
– drink apple cider.
– dress up. Don’t slutty dress up. “Be authentic”
– still, don’t be pc. It’s boring.
– watch the Gremlins. Well, you don’t have to do that one, but still, you should do it…
just for once, don’t be a hecking hipster. Just be a kid again.

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Rules for dramatic girls

My friend Ana and I love to complain about one special thing: GIRLS! Not only girls though: we like to complain about cliché American girls acting their lives.

My question: Girls, why do you need to be so dramatic?

Girls, here are some things I’ve been dying to tell you:

  • There is no need to talk about who would play your character if your life was a series: your life is and won’t be a series.
  • There is no need to laugh so loudly. It won’t make things funnier. It won’t make people love you more. It might make you uglier. People will look at you, yes. Not for the reasons you imagine. If a loud laugh is your real laugh, that’s cool. Just don’t pretend, when you laugh for real, nobody understand what’s happening.
  • Please, do not scream for every occasion. Yeah, you got a letter. Yeah, you are allowed to take an audition. Oops, you’ve been refused, too late, you screamed / facebooked it to the whole world. Yeah, you see your friend that you haven’t seen in like, two days! Please. No need to scream.
  • Talking about friends… no, you don’t have to jump / scream / hug every time you see your friends. Or your roommate. Seriously. This is really annoying.
  • When you have a bad day, know that it’s always “the worst day of your life”. Yeah, I understand, you broke your nail AND he didn’t answer your text. We can talk about it. Not for two straight hours. Your next worst day is in three days, you’ll get over it.
  • When you have a good day, know that it’s always “the best day of your life”. Yeah, you got a A-, he looked at you and your hair is so beautiful today. You don’t need to throw a party to celebrate: tomorrow will be the worst day of your life.
  • Don’t cry in front of people you don’t know because you’re having the worst day of your life. It’s really embarrassing and makes the person in front of you feel really ill-at-ease. Especially if (s)he has an appointment and wants to leave. Or just, wants to leave. Or just, doesn’t care.


Oh, and if you could also avoid saying OHGOSH ten times a day… thanks!

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Tip, I hate you.

I went back to France for a while and it was wonderful. Everything was wonderful, of course, it was home. I got to eat food without cinnamon, take the bus, be strong and not use the bathroom for a whole day… “Bref”, I was back home!

And then, I realized that something gets me really mad in the US: tips.

When I go out, I don’t want to be thinking about the fact that the person serving me might not be able to pay his / her rent if I leave a poor tip. Which actually makes me a good tipper. I’d always go with 20 percent, it’s safe and easy to calculate.

But because of this tip-thing, waiters have an attitude that I really dislike: I feel like I’m a brat on her sweet sixteen’s. They’ll come to you thinking that you’ll be the one paying them, so they’ll answer all your desires, though they’re thinking how much they hate you. There’s something wrong about that. Clients get to think that they can do anything and behave badly. Don’t say thanks. Don’t be nice. Be direct and expect to be served right away.

When I’m back home, I know exactly what the waiters are thinking about me, they don’t pretend. So if I get a smile, I know they mean it. Because anyway, they can be rude, they’ll still be paid. I’m sorry, but I love rude waiters. I love knowing that we are on the same level. When I’m in the US, I feel like I should act like I’m better than the waiters. That they are worthless. I don’t, but I see a lot of people acting like that. Just because you tip doesn’t give you the right to be a bastard. At the same time, I also wish I could tell the American waiters “wait, I’ll tip you, stop behaving like that!” and maybe I should – as a lot of people – start to have my own list and grade the waiters /20, every mistake making you lose one percent of your tip. Ready?

If you:

  • smile too much: -3
  • laugh too loud: -3
  • ask me how my food is before I even started: -4
  • ask me how my food is more than twice (if it was good two minutes ago believe me, it’s still good): -4
  • ask me how I’m doing when it’s NOT your concern: -3
  • ask me about my accent: -3
  • tell me it’s a cute accent: -19

Well, I might end up being paid for eating out!

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They don’t do dreadlocks

Sometimes, you go to the hairdresser and you tell me “do what you want, I trust you Joe” (because he’s called Joe) Sometimes it’s nice, you’re glad. Some other times, you just hate Joe, you could killed him simply with the amount of hair he cut. Well, you know what? Relax! We’re talking about a haircut here. Taking risks can be fun, for you and, pretty often, even more for your friends (except dreadlocks. dreadlocks are forbidden)

But by taking risks, I mean, when you can fix them.

As soon as I arrived here I saw some irreparable horrible mistakes on almost everyone I met: tattoos.

For almost all the people I met before coming here, a tattoo means a decision thought for maybe several years.

After moving to one of the most-tattooed city in the US, I realized that a tattoo could also be a “I’m bored” decision. When they get bored, some people go to the gym (oh yes!), others cook, read, paint etc. Some go get a tattoo. If it’s the reflection of their day, I cannot even imagine…

Anyway. I’ve met several people who could not tell me how many tattoo they had. I’ve met people who told me they would never ever have a tattoo and got one a few months after.

I’ve always been scared of getting a tattoo. I don’t want to ink my skin now and realize in a few years that I grew up and don’t like it anymore. Plus, I might faint. But after being here, I realize that some people don’t give a damn and think they won’t grow up anymore (and for some of them, let’s face it, I basically agree)

These people are my favorite people in the world.

I love being in class and seeing two dolphins jumping in front of a sunset. I love walking and seeing skins inked with the Chiefs logo (seriously, the Chiefs?). I love seeing people trying to write things in French “because it’s romantic” and read what they actually wrote. Yes, I love these people.

They don’t do dreadlocks, but they do tattoos…

(found the image on google)

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