Day 15 - La famille

So, funny story. I thought that after my shower (which I still have not mastered, because well, just look!)That's the shower! A bathtub with a hose! Wtf? I still haven't figured out how to successfully master it without a.) spilling gallons..no.. pardon litres of water onto the floor, b.) freeze to death or c.) not get all the shampoo out of my hair. I'll probably have it down around September. I need walls in my shower, call me old fashioned. A shower head wouldn't be bad either. Goodness, I've run off topic! Back to the picture at the top! I'm such an idiot. I'm not sure if I missed the memo and French power outlets are way more powerful than American ones or not, but it did something akin to supercharging my curling iron. That, mixed with leftover hairspray on the barrel was a deadly combination. I'm curling my hair, cute, la la la.. then I smell something icky.. and my hair was smoking! I yanked the curling iron out, which was pretty easy since it singed, no straight up burned, half of that chunk of hair off! It's a good thing my hair is layered so it blended in! The rest of the day I kept smelling burnt hair. Ew. How embarrassing, huh? C'est la vie.

Good thing everybody was downstairs. I opened my window all the way.

I wasn't in the best mood after that, especially since my allergies decided it was a good day to be a bother. I love randomly breaking out in hives as much as the next person (for those who don't know me the dr. diagnosed me as allergic to myself. Go figure.).. I really don't like taking my allergy meds since they make me extremely drowsy, give me a headache and a stomach ache all at once. They really make me the life of the party, so I avoid them. Sometimes, though, they are better than hives, so I lounged most of day. Screw looking cute. Nobody in France does their hair anyways.

When Nathalie came home we traveled to La Baule where her older sister lives. All of her brothers and sisters got together to go through old pictures of one of the cousins for his birthday. The French make a party out of EVERYTHING. It's pretty tight since booze is always involved. Naturally nobody spoke English and forgot after 5 minutes to speak slowly so I could understand, so I just sat quietly at the table, drinking some delicious mango booze (strong!) and doodling on a scrap piece of paper. Nathalie's younger sister and her husband invited me to their house to spend a few days ( I think..) and I didn't understand the rest of what they rambled on about. I did catch that her husband is a pastry chef or something, he owns a crêperie. I also caught that they are moving to north of Paris soon because they like to change pace every once and a while and switch life up. I think that they asked about what it would be like to own a restaurant in Seattle, and I just laughed because they expected me to answer in French. As usual, they busted out the encyclopedia/atlas to see where on Earth Seattle was located, and once more all I had to say were the magic words: Grey's Anatomy. "Ahh, yes, Seattle!" God bless the American Sitcom. Dinner was delicious, quiche then some tasty desserts.

At like 11:30, oh wait I mean 23:30 (stupid 24 hour clock) we finally left, and I had be designated artist for the cover of the book of pictures they were making for the birthday cousin. They saw my doodles. I heard somebody say something about having American writing on the cover, but I'm pretty sure since it's in French that it no longer constitutes being American.. Silly French.

Busy Day.