What if these two ‘hobbies’ were much more similar than I thought?

Yes one is physical, the other one is more intellectual.

One gets you active, while the other lets you sit on a chair for hours… But:

9- Most times, it’s painful . . . → Read More: 9 Reasons Why Blogging is Like Running]]>

Recently I managed to find again a bit of a groove — both in blogging and running.

What if these two ‘hobbies’ were much more similar than I thought?

Yes one is physical, the other one is more intellectual.

One gets you active, while the other lets you sit on a chair for hours… But:

9- Most times, it’s painful to get started, but the end results will almost always give you a feeling of satisfaction and accomplishment.

8- It’s a lot more fun if you don’t do it alone — friends are the best reward on this journey! (Heck, why don’t you pay a visit to Jessica or Maureen!?)

7- Only VERY few make money at it — no matter how much the sweat.

6- Those around you who don’t share the same hobby simply don’t get it!

5- It does not take much money to get started but it can help transform you deep, deep inside.

4- A little bit once in a while is always better than nothing.

3- The barrier of entry is virtually non-existent but it takes hard work, strong will and commitment to stick with it. Oh yeah, and a great deal of motivation (see friends statement at number 8 above).

2- You try to stick with a routine but it does not mean it’s easy.

1- It takes a lot of time!

To the fashion police out there: yes, I’m in my workout clothes! So what? Thanks to my good friend Cat, rode over 20 miles. So there is my excuse.

To my potential future employer if s/he’s watching: everyone has a silly side, I swear I don’t wear . . . → Read More: A little more like me: another vlog!]]>

One shot, no edits, pure fun. This is me, unretouched!

To the fashion police out there: yes, I’m in my workout clothes! So what? Thanks to my good friend Cat, rode over 20 miles. So there is my excuse.

To my potential future employer if s/he’s watching: everyone has a silly side, I swear I don’t wear biking shorts to work. And I am not a violent person.

PS: by the end of the night, I WILL GET IT!

I write about the taken-for-granted things that I got accustomed to in the US, but are not the norm or even known where I’m from. It’s good for me to remember them — of course, I’ve already . . . → Read More: Before I came to America… (Part 3)]]>

A few months back I started a series that my readers seemed to like, so I came back with more.

I write about the taken-for-granted things that I got accustomed to in the US, but are not the norm or even known where I’m from. It’s good for me to remember them — of course, I’ve already lost some of my frenchness, but maybe there is hope; what if I could boost my memory!?

If you’ve missed the previous episodes, go here, or here.

So… when I lived in France, and before I came to America…

1) I was able to vote. I have been in the US for nearly 8 years and… I am barely a resident. Not a vote-worthy citizen yet. But I pay all my taxes and everything. Being a legal alien is hard work!!

photo credit: wine me up

2) I thought my business school was expensive… Looking back, even though I ended up paying back most of it at the worst of the Euro/Dollar exchange rate, I still got a bargain vs. US schools. OK, so the prestige is not exactly the same. But guess what, I am managing just fine! (And now student-loan free!)

3) I never really celebrated the 14th of July – what people in the US call Bastille Day – and most French don’t beside watching some fireworks. It’s nothing like the 4th of July in the US! We do not have patriotic cakes, flags and Old Navy shirts with the French flags on them for the whole fam’! [For the record: don't look for the Bastille if you set foot in Paris. It happens to be the most famous monument that actually no longer exists!]

photo credit: Scallop Holden

4) I had never heard of Dave Matthews Band or Sarah Maclachlan. No lies. And that probably many more hot artists, I don’t remember that I did not know them, I take them for granted now!

5) Oh and I did not know that country music had dedicated TV channels and music awards (yep, not just one, but 2 country music awards… WTF?)

photo credit: monagrrl

6) Oh, one more on the music theme: Christian music? Had never heard of that — outside the religious hymns inside a church. No, in the US Christian music is a genre that resembles pop music only celebrating Jesus’ love, etc. But the best albums are sold through infomercial as far as I can tell! (If you don’t know what an infomercial is… I will write a post about that, leave a comment!)

7) I had never eaten warm corn. In France we only eat it cold, usually in salads. And most French have never had corn on the cob — I did a long time ago, but that’s only because I was raised on a farm!

photo credit: stevendepolo

8 ) I had never tailgated, but you probably knew that since I’ve said it before.

9) I did not know “standard” paper size (as in, what you feed your printer for example) is NOT the same standard in the US as it is in Europe. US calls their paper “Letter” (8-1/2 x 11 inches); Europe (and possibly the rest of the world actually?) uses A4, also fondly called 21 x 29.7 (in cm)

photo credit: wokka

OK, that’s all I have for tonight. Surely there is more, look for part 4 soon!

But only if you enjoyed this one!?

Without further ado, here are the top 5 American figures hated outside the U.S. and particularly in France:

1) George W. Bush (where to start? The guy can’t even speak; the yet-to-be-found of weapons of mass distraction destruction, the war in Irak, …)

photo credit: memorycardfull

2) . . . → Read More: 5 Americans the World Hates with a Passion]]>

This is the least scientific rating but probably the most accurate nonetheless.

Without further ado, here are the top 5 American figures hated outside the U.S. and particularly in France:

1) George W. Bush (where to start? The guy can’t even speak; the yet-to-be-found of weapons of mass distraction destruction, the war in Irak, …)

photo credit: memorycardfull

2) Lance Armstrong (did he dope or did he dope not? I know this debate gets very heated. At the end of the day, I think most of France don’t buy “it”. Personally, I’m on the fence. But I hope he’s legit cause that makes him a hero, and he inspired a lot of people.)

photo credit: Patrick Storm Photography

3) Bernie Madoff (one word: guilty)

photo credit: Network Osaka

4) Angelina Jolie (by the way, when you aren’t jolie, you should not be wearing the name! So, yes, she might be a sex bomb, but tell me: where is her genuine beauty? And don’t come and tell me a peanut allergy did that to her mouth)

photo credit: cliff1066™

5) Ronald McDonald (ultimate symbol of healthy habits and enjoyable moments; who cares if obesity and mal-bouffe are the #1 killer in America!?)

photo credit: usuallyjusta

BONUS: Michael Jackson (it does not matter if you’re Black or White, but if you attempt to put children in your bed, we’ll Scream. RIP, Michael, and wherever you are, Heal the World)

photo credit: guidosportaal

If you’re American, did you see it coming?

If you’re from abroad, who else should have made the list?

Now what? To vlog or not to . . . → Read More: How we became significant to each other: a vlog]]>

This is the story of how a Frenchie settles down in America.

Now what? To vlog or not to vlog again?

As I was researching my topic of choice in more depth (on YouTube, where else!?), I stumbled upon this mind-blowing clip; worth a watch, believe me.

(Note of Warning, the sound is not of great quality and seems higher than the norm! Adjust your settings accordingly!)

I could NOT get myself to log on to TweetDeck; not once, not ever (OK, once or twice but only by accident; come on, I have a computer-fanatic 2 year old).

Too scared.

Did not want to fall back “into it” too soon. The fear.

Did not want to . . . → Read More: I’m a Twitter drop out]]>

During my detox from blogging I became a Twitter drop out.

I could NOT get myself to log on to TweetDeck; not once, not ever (OK, once or twice but only by accident; come on, I have a computer-fanatic 2 year old).

Too scared.

Did not want to fall back “into it” too soon. The fear.

Did not want to get into conversations with peers whose blog I now barely visited. The guilt.

Did not want to face my failure as a blogger; or my success as the most-sporadic-blogger-ever. Ya. That’s me!

As time went on, the anxiety only grew stronger. Because I kept thinking about my dormant blog — which I compared to a gold mine not that long ago, foolish me! — and how it may reveal itself a ginormous waste of time and sweat. What if it wouldn’t go any further? What if I did not renew my domain registration?

Then I realized the more I waited the worse it got… made me react finally, and one day I wrote another blog post. My 101th to be exact.

Because I felt like it. And now that’s what I am going to do, blog when I feel like it!

As the blog slowly resurrected from the dead, I returned to my TweetDeck dashboard… to realize that so many faces had changed!

I had to read the names again to associate each avatar with the correct tweep. So much goes on in the space of a few months!

And the drop out all the sudden felt like having a make-over!

To see my new face, find me on Twitter!

1) The French don’t have proms or yearbooks. So sad.

2) The French don’t shop at Target nor Walmart. They don’t even have Target or Walmart, how is that even remotely possible?

3) The French don’t say hello to . . . → Read More: 9 Things the French don’t do]]>

I hurried to find 9 things the French don’t do, just for fun and in less than 5 minutes… GOOOooo!

1) The French don’t have proms or yearbooks. So sad.

2) The French don’t shop at Target nor Walmart. They don’t even have Target or Walmart, how is that even remotely possible?

3) The French don’t say hello to strangers in the street. That’s one of the reasons why I like my life in Maryland.

4) The French don’t save in a 401(k). They still believe they will hit a jackpot called Social Security. I think the US government makes it far more obvious that it just ain’t gonna happen, baby!

5) The French don’t have cable boxes that can record their shows — also fondly referred to as DVRs over here. Now, that’s silly. Surely, that can’t be right. If it’s changed since last time I checked, I’m sure someone will tell me. Raise a hand!

6) The French don’t have “personal days”. They have enough vacation and RTTs… If you don’t know what a RTT is then, you’re missing out on the secret: The French only work 35 hours per week. If they happen to work over time, they get comp days called RTT.

7) The French don’t pick up after their dogs. Nope.

The French don’t buy fresh milk, only the brick kind (Parmalat style)

9) The French don’t play Lacrosse. Bet you they don’t know what it is. Though it sounds French, right? Don’t get fooled. Not French.

10) The French don’t rely much on credit card debt. Good for them.

It took me an extra 3 minutes. Oh wait, I found 10 things, that must be why I went overtime!!!

How did I do?

Tell me you learned something new about the French!

I hate what you’ve done to us. You want us to believe that we’re closer than we’ve ever been, more engaged than we thought our busy schedules could allow it, and that our freedom has reached yet another level.

Am afraid it’s all the contrary, you see.

Facebook, you’ve confined me to my desktop screen, mobiles devices . . . → Read More: Facebook breakup]]>

Dear Facebook,

I hate what you’ve done to us. You want us to believe that we’re closer than we’ve ever been, more engaged than we thought our busy schedules could allow it, and that our freedom has reached yet another level.

Am afraid it’s all the contrary, you see.

Facebook, you’ve confined me to my desktop screen, mobiles devices and other sources of insanities, to catch up on the latest feeds of updates covering a virtual wall – if only for 1 minute or so, cause 97 of my other closest friends are about to say something — where was I?

Oh yes, the wall.

But do you hear yourself talk, Facebook? Since when do you put a wall between friends?

And is it how you tell friends how much you care, with as many clicks as you can between a load of laundry and a run to the grocery store, Like this, Like that.

Things have changed, I now find that mere acquaintances (remote coworkers, even!) want to be my friends (how awkward, now, come on!); I don’t want to hurt their feelings nor do I want to share my first baby’s pictures with them. I thought that’s what I was supposed to do all along, create my own community, exchange with my close ones, keep in touch. Not let everybody in on my close circle because they “found” me.

More than awkward, is darn right outrageous. You, Facebook, have the audacity to suggest new friends to me? What’s wrong with my current friends? Why are you making me run in a popularity contest?

You know what else?

I can’t do it because I’m not funny enough; the conversation I’m seeking is just not there (hence my blog, ehehe); how lonely do you think that makes me feel, Facebook?

Look, I’m sorry but it’s not going to work between us. Considering our current status, it’s obvious we can’t just be friends.

I took down my picture several weeks ago, to show that I’m subtracting myself from that non-sense. Not from my true friends. But of course, they will recognize themselves when I say I’ve decided my time is better invested with them. When I can see them, talk to them, sometimes touch them. Having my family across the ocean is not always easy, but we manage just fine with the phone, and the occasional video chat.

Most times, pen on paper can achieve true miracles, you should try it!

At the end of the day, I know you don’t need to know what I do, where I go and who with — Facebook, I just hope you’ll never use what you already know against me. Hopefully you’ll find there are many other fish in the sea…

So this is it.

I hope some day you’ll understand.

I also have to admit something. I can’t blog about decluttering because I am struggling with . . . → Read More: Lately]]>

I thought blogging was like an online journal, but I can’t write what I don’t want to share. So it would be more accurate to call blogging an open journal. For all who care to look for it WILL find it.

I also have to admit something. I can’t blog about decluttering because I am struggling with that. I am no hoarder, just a regular Jane who’s got a hard time purging her life of the unnecessary crap Target, Macy’s, Staples and Bed Bad and Beyond thing you MUST own. Not even talking about old correspondence I can’t part from, it’s just too hard. Including bank statements that are over 3 years old. Ya know, just in case! Still making progress, but nothing that deserves front and center stage here, on Franco-American Dream.

All this time, I’ve been thinking. And I finally admitted something. Some topics are off-limits because, well, there is no privacy in this world and the last thing I want to do is hurt myself or anyone else by accident. It’s nothing new, but it’s something I needed to write down for myself. Note for later: It’s okay to be selective, it’s my blog.

Most of the things I’ve been thinking about lately are related to cultural habits and perceptions; how different things are, yet how well one can adapt and forget the way “things used to be”. I find this aspect of life across different countries so fascinating!

And of course the shaping of a new life is forever intriguing. I am thinking about my son, whom I’m raising bilingual with my husband (me, in French; him, in English). Great writing materials!!

A note of warning that may disappoint my loyal 25 subscribers: I must switch the email delivery of my posts from Aweber to a free alternative; since it has not been used very much (one post every… 3 months now??), I can’t justify the $19 per month. Just wanted to warn you before it stops.

And once I figure out what’s wrong with my feed, there will be another way, promise! Though, it’s certainly presumptuous on my part to think you may still be interested in reading me considering I’ve left you down for so long.

On the upside, I’ve worked on so many topics inside my head, I will make it up to you.

Proof of my newly found enthusiasm?

It’s past 2am, and my brain was bursting at the seams, I could not sleep! So I came down to post an update and make peace with the growing silence that was haunting me.

Turns out, I’ve been missing you lately.