Au soleil, sous la pluie...

Love is who we are...

This year, I hosted my first Thanksgiving dinner at my apartment. 

There were only five of us - which is good, because more than five people would probably create some sort of fire marshal situation in my junior one bedroom - and I was nervous about it all week. I really needn't have worried; it was marvelous.

I give my mom most of the credit; she put together most of the menu and served as consulting chef. We had enough food for twenty people and a bottle of wine (French, of course) for each person attending. We Ferares know how to do Thanksgiving dinner. 

The day, from start to finish, really encapsulates everything I love and am grateful for about my life.

When my mom arrived at 10 a.m., she carried a 20 lb. turkey up the stairs like a trophy and asked, "How do we want to cook this?" A whirlwind of Iron Chef antics ensued, punctuated by quiet moments of joking and catching up with a glass of Riesling (to inspire our art, of course). 

When my papa knocked on the door three hours later, he brought with him a bounty of wine and hugs and kisses. Predictably, after making his deliveries he went straight for the couch and commandeered the TV remote control, forcing us to watch the Miami Dolphins throw away another perfectly good game. 

The long-suffering and deeply-loved boyfriend was there by this time. He'd originally been commissioned to make some cranberry dish or other; however, when my dad got there he decided that the NFL is significantly more interesting and less likely to burn the apartment to the ground. So we were short on cranberries, but also my apartment is still intact; we'll call it even.

Also in attendance was baby sister Arianne, home from her first quarter at university. I'll never tell her this to her face, since she decided to attend that school across the Bay which shall remain unnamed, but I'm really proud of her. Seeing who she grows up to be in the next four years is going to be wonderful and exciting - just like it's been with my middle sister, who graduates UCLA in the spring - but for now, just enjoying her company when she comes home is enough.

By the time most of the wine and not nearly enough of the food was gone, despite the heaps of dishes and yards of kitchen counter to clean, I felt more joyful contentment than I have in a long time. There's something about all the love and warmth (and tryptophan?) in the post-Thanksgiving-dinner atmosphere that just wraps around you like a blanket. I was even too wrapped up in it to remember to take a picture for my Thanksgiving blog post.

But, picture or no, this was one of my happiest Thanksgivings in recent memory. There's always something bittersweet about holidays. They mark the passage of time, always prompting me to realize things are changing and that we're all growing up. Something about today - my mom cooking in my kitchen, not the other way around - just felt special. In those quiet moments, I felt like I caught glimpses of Thanksgivings-yet-to-come. They will be in different places and there will be new faces, but the love will always be a constant. 

This next few months may be the last my parents spend in the house I grew up in. My middle sister may be living in Japan by this time next year. Arianne has big ideas and plans and goals for her future, and who knows where Dave and I will end up. Sometimes it's scary to think about how far apart we might be scattered, and how relatively soon.

But the beauty of it is that no matter where we go and what we do and are and become, I'll always have the tableau of my "first" Thanksgiving tucked away in my memory to remind me of some the things that will never change. And for those things - those precious constants in my life - I am thankful.

:: Magali

People sure act funny.

So, this weekend I'm attending my (fifth? eighth?) umpteenth FanimeCon in San Jose. I'm really excited to go, because I haven't seen many of my friends on karaoke staff in months, but you wouldn't know it by talking to me because for the most part I've kept completely silent about it. You'd think I'd feel less embarrassed talking about it as time goes on and anime becomes more of a mainstream thing that's considered bourgie-cool. Hell, I even wrote my Stanford admissions essay about being an otaku and how I relished the 'otherness' of such a (at the time) weird fandom.

But every time someone asks me what my Memorial Day weekend plans are I usually get hedgy and say "I'll be doing karaoke with friends." And since I've been 'doing karaoke' at Fanime, in one way or another (performing, competing, staffing, judging) since 2002 or 2003 it's not strictly a lie. Still, the "being different is cool" part of me that has been mostly dormant since high school wonders, when did I become ashamed to admit that I'm going to be staffing an anime convention?

I'm unsure. But I think it was about the time I flipped to the staff side of things. Some of the antics people get up to when they are attending a convention make it clear that many of them treat convention weekends like an escape from reality, and as a result, from the world of consequences and caring what people think of them.

This isn't necessarily a bad thing - after all, when you feel like you're escaping the "real world," you might be more inclined to perform a song at karaoke when normally you are too shy or you'd worry what your friends would think and say. On the flip side, however, you might also be more inclined to rush the stage when a 12-year-old girl is trying to sing and start thrusting your pelvis into the air and gyrating around with your shirt off. I have seen both things happen.

One of the parts of conventions I loved as an attendee, but have mixed feelings about as staff, is that there's a warm and welcoming community of strangers at these conventions willing to instantly like you just because you share a love for a certain show or character. Some part of anime fandom going "mainstream" has meant that these otaku come out to conventions in larger numbers, and when they reach critical mass, shenanigans start to happen. I don't really mean the attention-seeking nutjobs who use fandom as their excuse (see: ManFaye - but don't actually 'see,' or you might scar your retinas), I mean the people who decide to throw all personal responsibility and respect for authority out the window in an attempt to be 'cool' at a convention that really started because liking anime was kind of uncool. By definition, the resulting behavior usually falls on the 'uncool' side of the spectrum to the outside world.

I suspect I really only started to notice this when I became part of "The Man" responsible for enforcing rules and codes of conduct within the karaoke room as a staff member. As an attendee, I could avoid any people I felt might annoy me and focus on programming and meet-ups with friends. As staff, you have to take people as they come and handle every situation in a friendly way  (even if they are behaving badly).

As such, I'm not at all embarrassed to be a part of the volunteer effort of the Karaoke Kaizoku-Dan (the Karaoke Pirates) who bring joy and music to thousands of attendees up and down the West Coast convention circuit year after year. I just worry that people will hear "I'm working karaoke at FanimeCon" as "I'm going to wear a 'bondage kitty lolita' costume,  talk about how cool I think rape is but only if x character is doing it to y character, refuse to shower for three days and shout out insults to random passersby because I'm 'in character' all weekend. How about you?"

:: Magali

PS: To prove I wasn't always a killjoy, have a picture of me in an anime costume circa 2005.

Jump start my kaleidoscope heart...

In the past six months or so, I've learned that it is actually pretty awesome and simple to live a healthier lifestyle, no matter who you are.

(Eating your Omega-3 acids is cool, kids!)

One of the perks of employment at Stanford is that they pay you to treat yourself better. They have a program here called "BeWell@Stanford" which pays out up to $300 per year for completing a number of healthy activities (attending fitness classes, etc.) and getting your cholesterol, blood sugar and body fat percentages checked. It was started by the Provost, who lost a lot of weight and improved his general health and well-being, and was inspired to provide incentives for University employees to do the same.

I originally thought I would take advantage of the program for the quick cash benefits. Not a lot of time or effort for an extra $300 - which could really come in handy for paying down some of my student loan debt. I took a free one-hour healthy eating seminar, got my finger pricked for various lab tests, and went to my annual physical exam with my doctor. I was halfway there!

As I looked for ways to fulfill the second half of the requirements, I was overwhelmed by the variety of activities available. And everywhere I turned were resources devoted to helping me make healthier choices. I enrolled in a walking program (the pedometer was free, and there is an online resource group providing ideas about how to get your step count up each week). I attended a session with a personal trainer where we discussed easy ways for me to incorporate a bit more physical activity into my every day routine.

It was all free, and managable. It didn't feel difficult. There were no huge hurdles to get over. There were simply people saying...

"Hey - increasing the steps you take each day can add years to your life."
"Hey - if you eat more of the right things, you don't have to eat less."
"Hey - you can save money on groceries if you shop this way."
"Hey - even little changes can make a huge difference."
"Hey - have you thought about walking on your treadmill while watching Netflix?"

Hey, you can do this. Hey, it doesn't have to be hard.

Hey, it's okay if you don't have washboard abs as long as you're taking care of your heart and nourishing your muscles.

Hey. You don't have to be super-fit (or Superman) to take your health and well-being into your own hands.

I feel like I've been watching all these myths I've built up over the years about why I can't eat better or exercise more dry up and blow away. I do not change easily, or quickly. But it's not about "you have to do this" or "you can't eat that," which is how I had always framed my independent attempts at better living.

Instead, they've seen my aversion to big-picture change and helped me focus on little things. Easy things - from the way I shop to the way I set goals to the way I watch TV - and they are starting to add up.

I'm learning to sleep and eat and do things when my body wants me to, and I am starting to feel better inside and out. More attuned to my physiological changes and needs. A bit less lethargic, a bit less munchy.

And that is what has truly impressed me about this program. Even if I never lose a single pound from the small changes I've made, my insides are healthier than they ever have. And it has not felt hard. When you're surrounded with resources encouraging and rewarding healthy behavior changes, the hurdles are significantly lowered and it doesn't feel like a struggle anymore.

I wish the world in general approached healthy living the same way. I came for the free money, but I'm staying for the long-term benefits because I have finally, finally, finally been told that it doesn't have to be unpleasant and it doesn't have to be hard to be healthy.

So cheers to you, BeWell. You and your bribery are making me a better, healthier person.

:: Magali

If I owned this city, I'd make it behave...

I think the reason that I post so rarely nowadays is because I often feel like my life here isn't as interesting or worth reading about as it is when I'm traveling. (This is probably true.) The mundane seems even more so when I have the daunting task of following up two quarters of life in Paris with my adventures in learning to function like an adult.

Still, I've had the itch to write lately. And if I'm not allowed to engage in gross self-indulgence on my own blog, then where on earth can I?

Today was the six month anniversary of my first day at work, prompting me to pat myself on the back for faking adulthood so well up until now. I count myself as extremely fortunate: I make enough to pay my rent and go on trips (though, as I mentioned the other day, I should probably curb that...) and I work with wonderful people and excellent bosses. Still, some days I feel intimidated since I'm the youngest person in an organization that tends to skew older. I feel the need to prove myself all the time, lest they think I'm immature or just too young.

I'm sure some day I will look back and lament my lost youth (I already do, to some degree, when I watch the current undergrads frolic around in the sun out my boss's window), but right now I feel like I'm in an awful hurry to grow up and be taken seriously. Not that anyone has ever made me feel bad about my age at work, but there have been a few instances with customers where I've felt I have to push harder or dress extra-sharp or speak more eloquently to combat what they might think of me by looking at me and guesstimating my age.

Making a case for my maturity and experience is often made difficult by the fact that I manage to say the most ridiculous things to every person in a leadership role that I encounter. It's like that moment in every romantic comedy when the woman meets the man (or vice versa) and his or her brain overheats and melts into a puddle from the desperate need to impress, resulting in such eloquent outbursts as "I want to go to there."

(For those of you, if you are out there, who also suffer from this unfortunate tic, is it just me or does the ridiculousness of the statement always seem to be directly correlated with how high above you the person in question is? God forbid I ever actually spend more than 30 seconds in a room with our president.)

Does anyone know of a way to keep the mental filter working functionally at critical moments? I'd be ever so grateful to learn that skill.

Still. Little milestones - six months at the job, one week of not embarrassing myself in front of my boss's boss, two big projects done on my own in the past few months - are important. And performance anxiety or no, I'll continue to celebrate them, and continue to enjoy what I've got (including my youth)!

Cheers.

:: Magali

The way I'm running has sure got me down...

I've been using Mint.com to track my finances, goals, budgets and expenditures over the past six months or so, and I have found some interesting trends.

1. I have good months and bad months, but I have netted a negative income because I have pulled a lot out of savings to pay down high-interest student loan debt.
2. My net worth has remained positive over time, despite student loan debt; I expect this is largely due to making timely payments and paying my credit card off in full each month.
3. Over the past six months, 50% of my income has been spent on traveling and paying rent. All other expenditure categories fit into the other 50%.
4. Interestingly, while I am about on par with the national average for my travel expenditures, I'm $2,000 to $3,000 over the national average for expenditures on "house & home" (this includes rent, furnishings, etc.)
5. I have spent almost exactly the same amount on student loan repayment and travel between September 2010 and March 2011.

It's really helpful to be able to visualize what I'm spending and where it's going, and I'm grateful that I live in a time when this is easily accessible. While none of this necessarily surprises me (the Bay Area is one of the most expensive places to live in the United States), it does make me feel significantly more guilty for my wanderlust and increasingly frequent weekend jaunts to interesting places.

I'm not going into debt in any real sense of the term; I don't owe anyone money except the banks who loaned me money for school (and that should be paid off by late 2012 if I can keep to my goals). I just have been irresponsibly pulling cash out of savings, or just ignoring my monthly savings goals, to front things like a last-minute trip to the Orange Bowl or a birthday trip for my boyfriend to a very expensive location. Though my situation isn't nearly as apocalyptic as crushing credit card debt or an underwater mortgage, I do think I'm finally beginning to understand how easy it is to allow oneself instant gratification in lieu of setting up long-term financial stability.

Sure, some things (like the Orange Bowl for me this year) are once-in-a-lifetime opportunities that are worth some short-term compromises and splurging. But all too often I fall into the trap of thinking that I need things like new work clothes, kitchenware, movie tickets or expensive dinners out. The art of self-sacrifice is somewhat foreign to me, and the daily emails from Groupon, LivingSocial, RueLaLa, ModCloth and other vendors I frequent often encourage me that I deserve a spa day, or a new dress, or some fancy shoes -- and after all, they're on sale! I feel simultaneously guilty and defiant every time I make an 'unscheduled' or unbudgeted purchase, which at this point is at least a few times per month.

Part of this probably comes from a skewed financial worldview. My boyfriend makes easily double what I do as a result of side projects and hard work, and can afford to put a substantial sum away each month in addition to making numerous 'just because' purchases. I see my parents every month or so, and often they pay for dinner when we go out. I have set up an unrealistic expectation that I, too, can pay for things that I feel like buying just whenever I feel like it. This has to change or I'm going to deplete my savings and continue to spend anyway (or worse, start charging up my credit card instead of pulling out of a savings account). I'd like to avoid that.

Like with diet and exercise, I function best when I have a handful of rules that are extremely simple and relatively convenient to follow. What are some of the best hacks or rules to help yourself save money and live within your means?

::Magali

I could try to forget what you do... but then you do it over again.

You know, I really tried my hardest to be understanding and philosophical about this delayed baggage situation. (I think my last two blog posts can attest to that.) I told representatives at Delta's toll-free number and their NCE baggage office to just forward the bag to my parents' and I would deal with delayed baggage reimbursement later.

Well, there are mistakes, and then there is sloppiness and unprofessional behavior. And Delta has  crossed the line over the past 13 (yes, it's still delayed, and officially slipped into 'possibly lost' territory tonight) days. During that time, the bag has been sent to Nice no two or possibly three times, against my explicit instructions. And this last time, it appears to have gone missing; no one has heard a peep from it since December 25.

Here is an abridged list of the mistakes that have been made on Delta's part during this two-week ordeal (if I listed them all, this page would be ten miles long):

• Checking my bag through to an international destination when I asked for a gate-check for one leg of the flight
• Delaying it in the first place on 12/19 - 12/20 during my flights
• Forwarding my bag to NCE after 12/21, after receiving instruction to send it to an address in California near SFO
• Closing my file and claiming they gave my bag to a delivery company when it returned to SFO on 12/23 (they did not)
• Forwarding my bag back to Nice (expedited!) from SFO on 12/25, the day before my arrival back in the US and four days after I'd left Nice
• Re-closing my file after the bag was expedited, making it unlikely that further updates would show up - so now it is considered a 'lost' bag, because it has been silent for more than 5 days

Here is a complete list of the mistakes I have made during this two-week ordeal:

• Trusting my bag and my business to Delta airlines in the first place

I have made at least a dozen phone calls to Delta SFO, Delta's Baggage Care line, and Delta JFK over the past five days since I've been back in the US with frequent cell phone access. While the employees have been courteous, they have not been in the least bit helpful. I have received different information from all three nearly every time I make contact with a human being. I have heard the words, 'We can't do that' or 'There's nothing I can do for you right now' more times than I care to count.

They would not call the JFK baggage office and refused to give a reason why not; they gave me the number to call instead (I did - they said they don't show the bag flying back there so they won't check their inventory). They will not call the NCE baggage office because it's an expensive international call; they send email messages instead, which is a nice gesture, but all these emails have been ignored thus far.

As far as I can tell, the implication here is that it's my responsibility to make said expensive international call if I want to find out if my bag is in NCE or if they had it recently. In fact, instead of making that call and providing what, in my place of employment, would be considered basic customer service, the people I've spoken to have instead 'helped me' by letting me know that Delta policy states that they will not reimburse for lost electronics if my bag doesn't show up, though I'm 'welcome to fill out a claim form with it listed.' I had an HD video camera and DSLR in there. Apparently this is because of people claiming electronics they may not have owned.

The bag was not missing until they made the same mistake multiple times after multiple requests not to do so. In other words, Delta policy is that I eat the cost of replacing two very expensive electronic devices (one of which belonged to my mother) because multiple people at Delta Airlines failed to do their job, and they also think I might be a liar. 

This is nothing short of insulting.

I've never felt so angry and frustrated at a company in my life. It seems as though not a single employee at Delta Airlines knows the words 'I can,' or 'I will.'

Given that my family have gone above and beyond as Delta customers over the years, this is incredibly disappointing and makes me envy my friends who chose to fly any other airline on the planet this holiday period, and returned with their bags intact.

And more than anything else, I'm upset that a beautiful and almost-perfect vacation has been completely overshadowed by this week from Hell.

:: Magali

Update: I called Nice this morning, and they showed no record on my file of the bag being expedited there on December 25, and they said that it's impossible that they should have it. They said if the bag was sent on a KLM or Air France flight, as SFO and the baggage care hotline said it was, the bag is likely with one of those airlines. The woman said she would try to contact them and call me back... not holding my breath on that one.

Update 2: Delta called and has scheduled delivery of my bag to my home address at 5:45 p.m. It is now 18 days after the initial loss and the bag has been back and forth to Nice FOUR TIMES. The tags had apparently fallen off the bag and they only figured out it was mine through repeated calls by myself and my dad (a Diamond Medallion flier). Persistence pays off, theoretically. Fingers crossed for no more major-league screw-ups.

Update 3: My bag arrived with everything inside intact. The outside is completely thrashed (well, it WAS a carry-on bag and was only intended to make one leg under the plane), but at least everything inside still works. Small blessings.

Update 4: Delta mailed me a reimbursement check for my expenses the first few days in Paris for the full amount I requested. I now consider the issue closed (until next time, anyway).

And since we've no place to go... let it snow, let it snow, let it snow.

This trip seems to be an exercise in Murphy's Law (I knew there was a downside to dating a Murphy). It does seem as though the Universe is trying to get me down.

But honestly, no matter what, I still can't complain. No matter what crazy things have and can continue to go wrong... I'm in Paris. And there's enough money in my pocket that I won't starve. (Though with baguettes costing 90 eurocent, there wasn't much risk of that to begin with.)

Last night, the clouds hung so low over the tour Eiffel that the top was obscured, and the Christmas lights playing off the fog gave everything the most surreal and lovely quality, like I was in a fairy land. I have seen dozens and dozens of Christmas trees and Christmas music is everywhere. I had pancakes at Breakfast in America and said 'hello' to Saint-Etienne-du-Mont and the Pantheon. And this morning, still jetlagged, I woke up early enough to watch the city wake up around me. It's like I never left.

Continuing the trend of 'finding silver linings,' in the next ten minutes that I have before I relinquish the comfort and warmth of the Internet for the remainder of my trip, I thought I'd share a few of the many small calamities that have occurred on this trip and the things that have been surprising and positive about them.

1) My bag is not going to make it to France, at all. But because I called them to ask about said bag before they had put it on a plane to Nice, I was able to give them my parents' address in the US to mail it to instead since otherwise there was a significant chance of it being permanently lost.

2) Since my camera isn't going to make it, I've paid extra attention to my surroundings and made a significant improvement in my "sense" of Parisian geography. And I've been forming some astounding mental pictures that should last just as long as my Flickr account, if not longer.

3) The complete lack of clothing in my suitcase beyond two outfits made me feel as though shopping was forgiveable, so I went to Pimkie and picked up several things that I actually love and will wear many times... including the first skinny jeans I've ever found that actually fit me. I don't know that I'd ever have found them without this excuse.

4) The absolutely gorgeous pair of leather boots that I bought as my Christmas present to myself gave my feet the worst blisters I've ever had in my life. (They felt broken-in when I put them on, and I thought they fit my feet like a glove, but turns out I was wrong.) But the old pair that I wedged as a last-minute afterthought into the bag that did make it happen to fit my feet in such a way that they miss all the blistered areas. And I can walk for hours in them.

6) The unblocked phone that I borrowed before leaving apparently was not unblocked, and I learned this too late (so I had to drop 20 additional Euro on a second SIM card, because they wouldn't sell me a cheap-o phone without the SIM card attached to it). However, the second number is significantly easier to remember and I plan to use the balance of credits left on the first SIM to make a short call home on Christmas.

5) Lack of Internet (and more importantly, the need to update my friends and family as to the fact that I am alive and well) made me try the ISEP building, home to the Stanford in Paris center, despite every indication that no one would be there. And happily, happily, happily for me, Roberto was working. He let me use the computer, which I'm doing now, but more importantly it is simply wonderful to see him. And hopefully Elizabeth and Fabienne soon, too.

Tomorrow I plan to hit up Montmartre, the Champs-Élysées (they have a fantastic Christmas market up this time of year), Trocadero, the Madeleine and hopefully some friends. Friday afternoon I go to Deauville to spend Christmas Eve with my alumni mentor and her family, and Saturday I soak up as much Christmas as possible before I head back to California on Sunday.

In other words, I'm safe and happy. Mildly inconvenienced? Perhaps, but there are worse things to be at Christmastime. Like not in Paris, for example.

:: Magali

Des perles de pluie venues de pays où il ne pleut pas...

You could almost set a clock by it. If I'm itching to grow wings and fly off to Paris, it must be the fall. 

This makes sense when you take into account that I've spent the past two falls in Paris, and winter break 2006 as well. But this year, I was working 9-5 and with no convenient excuse to drop everything and spend a few months there.

So when my dad asked if I'd want to go at Christmas, you bet I jumped on it.

Fast-forward three months and here I am, off the plane for 7 hours and so jet-lagged it hurts to move my eyeballs. Still ecstatic to be here, though.

Not-so-ecstatic about the fact that Delta inconveniently left one of my bags in JFK airport yesterday, though. It won't be in Antibes until tomorrow, and at that time I'm leaving for Paris by train, so chances of it catching up with me til Wednesday (weather permitting, which is questionable) or Thursday aren't good. 

I suppose I'm pretty lucky, all things considered... my bag with my toiletries and all of my underwear made it here. The bag that didn't had my camera, video camera, chargers, plug adapters, warm coat and two of my comfiest pairs of boots in it, though.

Truly, there are worse things that could happen to a person - I now get to travel significantly lighter on the train tomorrow, for example. (But I also was fully intending to spend my train ride watching movies on my computer, which will not happen.) And in the scheme of things, I missed all the bad weather, my flights were all on time, and the sky in Antibes today was so clear you could see the Alps in the distance and the Isle Ste. Marguerite. Not a cloud to be seen. 

This is the point in the blog post where I'd ordinarily post a picture. But because I didn't have a camera, I spent the time I would have spent composing the perfect shot paying even closer attention to create a mental picture of my Pepe framed against the beach, picking up driftwood, with the towers of the old city behind him and the snow-capped mountains going on forever in the distance. 

A silver lining in every cloud, indeed.

:: Magali

PS: I still wish I had my bag, though.

If Heaven and Hell decide that they both are satisfied...

The absolute neatest thing just happened to me. I was working in the library (waiting for my books to arrive magically from the basement) when a man stopped and asked, "S'il vous plait, mademoiselle, je suis désolé de vous perturber, mais..."

Now, ordinarily, this means nothing except that some Frenchman or other is trying to put the moves on while I'm eating/drinking/studying/doing something on my own. But he ended his sentence with, "est-ce le tympan du Jugement dernier à Sainte-Foy de Conques?" Or, for you English-speakers, "isn't that a picture of the Last Judgment tympanum at Saint-Foy de Conques?"

This question was less random than it seems, and more awesome. It pertained to my desktop background, which was in fact a picture of the tympanum (or a replica at any rate) that I'd taken a month ago in preparation for writing a paper about it for my "The Age of Cathedrals" course. I just wrapped up the paper today, and was feeling really good about it, so I was willing to engage in conversation.

Turns out, the man was Dominique Alibert, who has written about Conques fairly extensively, and whom my professors encouraged me to read before writing my paper. Turns out he's also a researcher at the Institut Catholique. So I had a five minute chat with one of my paper souces.

Equally awesome, 20 minutes later a girl came in and plopped down next to me holding a book written by Jean-Paul Deremble and his wife Collette... who happen to be my professors for the aforementioned Cathedrals class.

Amazing, right? I feel like today is going to be a good day. I promise to update again soon with the events of the past week; some fun things happened and I'd like to talk about them.

:: Magali

P.S. This day keeps getting better-the girls sitting next to/across from me are reading The House on Mango Street, bringing back (not-so-)fond memories of 9th grade English class with Mr. Rooth. Obviously I have good library karma today.

Send me the miles, and I'll be happy to follow you...

I am thankful because...

Once again, it is (belatedly) that time of year to give thanks to everything and everyone to whom I am grateful this year. Since, according to my mother, last year's Thanksgiving post was the best thing I've ever written in the history of ever (apparently it beat out my 'What I Did Over My Summer Break' masterpiece from the first grade), I'm going to have to up my game. Or not, since I'm still totally wiped out from a week of paper-writing, video-editing, form-filling-out, and just all around working hard.

But I am still extremely thankful for many, many things and people that made this year what it was.

Christmas with the Davises

First and foremost, I owe a thousand thank-yous to these people, and others not pictured. My family has kept me sane since Day 1 (when they aren't making me question that sanity of course). So thank you, family.

Mama and Papa, thank you especially, not only for that fabulous gift of life, but also for allowing me to enjoy it this long by not strangling me thoughout my lactose-intolerant infancy, then not pushing me off a cliff during my early childhood which I spent doing such lovely things as locking my friends in the attic because they weren't being nice to me, or spoiling Alyson's fourth birthday by telling everyone how the magician did all his tricks.

Thanks, Grandma and Grandpa, for not letting my mom pass out when she thought Dave was proposing to me last Christmas. 

Merci à Pepe et Nenette, qui me raconte toujours des histoires de mon enfance qui et me corrige quand je fais des erreurs en français.

To my sisters, both of whom are way too grown up now, thanks for not turning out terribly despite me.

Uncle Dave, thanks for feeding me tons and tons of sushi for the thousandth time. Don't worry; I found an affordable all-you-can-eat place so you won't have to mortgage the home just to sate my appetite. Say hi to Wendy for me, and feel free to visit soon, since we live right in Mountain View now.

Cousin Tonja, thanks for always being there on Facebook since you're so far away. I'm so glad I've gotten to know you and Marcel as an actual adult (well, or something close), and I can't wait until we get to spend time together again, hopefully under much happier circumstances. Please give Dawn all my love.

And of course, thank you a hundred thousand times to my Mémé, my Uncle Steve and my beloved Pepper for giving me a lifetime of memories and happy times to look back on even when you're gone. I'll never forget you, and I love you all.

Hat Party!

Dave will probably hate me for picking this picture, but oh well. Regardless, this boy has been the other stable element in a life otherwise full of crazy goings-on for about two years now. For the second consecutive year he came to visit me 5,500 miles away in Paris just because. He wears stupid hats that say "PARIS" on them that I buy him, and he and his cat make me smile when all I want to do is curl up into a ball and collapse under the weight of papers, reading, extracurriculars and work. He's basically part of the family at this point (case in point: he went to my parents' at Thanksgiving this year).

Not to mention he always cleans up the kitchen after I cook. So here's to us. Thanks, Dave.

AlessiCake!

I'm also thankful for Steph, our third roommate. She lets us do things like decorate the house with posters saying "WELCOME HOME ALESSI" and buy her a chocolate cake, and she watches Shark Tank and Say Yes to the Dress and goodness knows what other trashy TV shows with me when my brain needs a break from thinking. I am really thankful for our living arrangement, our apartment, and how well everything seems to fit in that respect.

Notre-Dame from Saint Julien le Pauvre

Paris. I am, again and again, grateful for Paris; for the city itself, for the opportunity to be here, for the opportunity to meet people here and for the possibility of maybe living here for real someday. For the Stanford family here, and the program staff who hooked me up with the chance to be in a debate tournament, to become minorly involved with the Stanford Club of France, to spend Thanksgiving weekend with a loving Stanford family. For my friends here in the Fondation, my Stanford friends at home, everything. This experience has been even better than last time, and I'm so thankful.

Fountain-Hoppers Anonymous

And of course, I am thankful for Stanford. My four years here have really helped me grow up and grow into the person and the mind that I am today. I could not have gotten this education, or had this kind of academic and college experience, anywhere else on earth.

Of course this is not an exhaustive list of things, but those are the big ones, and I have to go get ready for my date at Breakfast in America with Helen and a few other Stanford kids.

I hope your Thanksgivings were rewarding, family-filled and happy affairs.

:: Magali

PS: Oh, wait, I forgot one. I am thankful for Toby Gerhart.