Whist and mumNantes, Fall 2012

I’m whispering.  Hello from Minnesota!  That’s “hello” with a long O at the end, more like “hellow.”  The Scandinavian and Norwegian accents linger up here.

I meant to begin this blog post with a detailed introduction of myself, but it struck me as a little ironic.  You see, at the beginning of the summer I vowed I wasn’t going to tell anyone that I was going abroad in the fall, the better to avoid streams of unwanted advice based on friends’ cousins’ roommates’ study abroad semesters in Peru in 2006.  Nor was I going to be that girl who only talks about what’s going on in HER life — even if it’s a lot more interesting than “What’s growing in your garden?” or the other conversation starters that are passed around, like the common cold, in these not-so-suburban parts. . .

In spite of my resolves, I fessed up pretty soon.  No longer whispering.

The Niagara Falls of advice and rambling memories has not descended.  My grandparents sent me a planner for my birthday and a note that said “Can’t wait to hear about your European adventure!” — without a reminder to watch for pickpockets.  My hairstylist asked me what day I was flying out, then moved on to more important topics (the State Fair).  The neighbors forgot and asked me twice what I was doing this fall.

And I’ve been the one posing desperate questions to my older sister (a seasoned European traveler as of winter 2011) and my good friend who hails from Bordeaux, questions about plane flights and the TGV and overseas phone plans and customs agents and how to FIT everything in my suitcase (I could crawl into it myself, but I’ll swear that the moment I put a single pencil inside, it starts shrinking) and, most importantly, whether you can wear boots in Nantes in September.  The friend from Bordeaux wasn’t quite sure about that last, so I’m planning just to start a trend when I get there.  Saves room in the suitcase.

So I’ll come clean to all of cyberspace: I’m going to France this fall.  And I’m not coming back until May.  Except for a few days at Christmas.  ‘Nuff said.  If you want to know any more about me, read my bio at the top of this blog.  Or keep an eye out for me in the French news — I’ll be the girl with the Norwegian accent, wearing boots out of season.

Now, to go find out about my State Fair ticket.  Some things are just more important than others.


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