Do you know how much it costs to send a freaking letter to the United States urgently?! FIFTY EURO. Umm, here's a letter:

Dear France,
ARE YOU SHITTING ME?
Love,
Molly

Luckily, my fax worked and they received my voter registration and absentee ballot request already. Which is good because when the post office lady told me it would be 50eur to send it quickly, I said "Uhh, NON MERCI" and instead paid 80 cents to send it regular. I know my vote counts, but not for that much money.

ANYWAY, apparently all this time I've been talking about buying a pumpkin, Valerie has been thinking that I want to COOK the pumpkin. Today I finally explained to her that no, I do not want to cook it, I want to cut a hole in it, scoop out its insides, and carve a face on it. Which sounds even dumber in French than it does in English. Now she thinks that I am insane for sure. But as long as she keeps buying me pate and avocados, I'm fine with that.

Tonight we're having chicken curry and noodles which I am SO EXCITED ABOUT. I might die of food related happiness. And then tomorrow the group leaves (WAY too early) for the Loire valley. We're all going to die of chateau overload, but that's okay. I'm rooming with Linnaea, which is fun because we'll probably spend a huge amount of time looking for trees to hug and grass to lay in since there's not enough of that kind of thing in Paris.

I wish the woman from the blind peoples club would get back to me so I could possibly start a pottery class. She is taking freaking forever to figure it out, and honestly, I just want to MAKE SOME FREAKING POTS. Also, I want to teach some blind kids English (because I have no patience for brats who can see), but I have to wait to talk to Valerie's friend who apparently knows all about blind things in Paris.

I also need some new shoes. And a scarf. And that hair thing I saw the other day. I think tuesday is going to be shopping day, because I won't have phonetics and I can convince some kiddos to come with me. Hmm.

Lastly, I need to visit Broceliande and the village of Paimpont in Bretagne, because there are waterfalls and rock formations (like Stonehenge!) and you can ride horses through the woods and there are obviously fairies and talking animals and MAGICAL THINGS. And they make lace, and have a crazy language, and it is eighty seven different kinds of fabulous. I wonder if I'll get an Emerson Grant next summer if I put that in my proposal about why I want to go there and write some crazy stories. PROBABLY NOT. But whatevs.

I get to see my Norwegian later this month, and then Allie Gardiner who is apparently in Denmark, and then possibly Sarah Hirsch. And everyone else should come visit me too. Get a pass from my mom, hop a plane, and come sleep on my floor. That is a serious invitation, actually. You know you want to.