Karma's a b*tch, part II

So when I left off yesterday, it was time to head over to the farm house to visit his dear, sweet dad. He was pretty much the only person in Brittany who welcomed me with open arms, and who was oh, so patient with me as I was learning French. He always had time to sit and talk with me, to offer me a cup of coffee and a palet breton.  I was nervous about seeing him - Fab had mentioned that he only recognized people that he had really liked, and it left me feeling nervous, and wondering if the sentiments I had for him were one-sided.

But when I walked through the door, he light up like a light bulb, with this beautiful, huge smile, and it was honestly one of the most emotional moments I'd had all year.  To see that man, who was so strong and who had worked so hard his entire life lose nearly everything just as he was retiring - was heartbreaking.  And then of course right beside him sat my ex-MIL, who's about as mean as a hornet and who barely worked a day in her life, in perfect health.  Sometimes life really isn't fair.

Since he couldn't talk, I sat there talking about what I'd been up to for nearly the past ten years. One of Fab's aunt's was also there, which was a bit awkward, but we made do.  And his handicapped step-brother was also present, and provided for some much need levity by interrupting me and asking very loudly "Why you wearin' a ring?  You married?"

Up to that point, I had been kind of circling around the topic of C, saying "nous", but making no specific references to him.  But I couldn't really avoid it after that, so I gave him the glowing description he so wholly deserves, and they all said they were happy for me. I couldn't really be sure if they were sincere or not since the alcohol had been flowing quite freely, although not for me since I still had some driving ahead of me.

Not long after, the night nurse came to take care of his besoins and put him to bed, so I had to say my goodbyes.  The evil ex-MIL asked him to try to say my name, and my initial thought was "Man, you are cruel" as we'd just been talking about how unsuccessful his speech therapy had been, but then to everyone's surprise, he said my name!  Everyone else then went around the table trying to get him to say their names, but he wasn't having it.  So I leaned down to give him the bise goodbye, and I whispered in his ear that I had thought about him often over the years, that I was extremely grateful for everything he had done for me during my early days in France, and that I was hopeful for him.  He couldn't say anything but Oui back in response, but he put his hand on mine and we both had a little mist in our eyes as I said my final goodbye.

As I drove away, I felt both sadness at seeing him like that and the closure that I needed from seeing Fab.  I don't wish him any ill will, but even if I'm so much better off now, I wouldn't be human if I didn't admit I got some satisfaction from seeing the end of the relationship that broke up our own.

2017 + some gossip

Well, the New Year has come and gone. After thinking we wouldn't really have any plans, we ended up throwing together a last-minute NYE party for nearly 20 people.  It was a great time, even if I was slightly cranky that all of the smog was blocking our view of the Eiffel Tower at midnight.

I've been thinking about it these past few days, and I don't really have any solid resolutions for 2017.  With the exception of the US political situation, 2016 was a pretty good year for us, and I will be perfectly satisfied if 2017 continues along the same path.

And in today's episode of karma is a b*tch, before I left for the US, I made a short trip to Bretagne for work.  Fab, my ex - as longtime readers will remember - had contacted me after the US elections results were announced to basically ask WTF.  We started chatting a bit, and I asked if he was going to get in trouble for talking to me, and he was quiet for a second before very sheepishly admitting that he had gotten divorced this past summer.  My first thought was "Ha, serves you right!", and my second though, which I voiced, was "That is sad for your daughter".

In even sadder news, he also mentioned that his father, a dear man with whom I was very close, had had a stroke. He is unfortunately mostly handicapped now, and needs a nurse to come three times a day to take of his daily needs. He also can't speak really say anything besides Oui or Non.  So I'd had him on my mind for quite some time when this Bretagne trip came up, and I decided to ask if I could stop by the farm to see him.

It was pretty surreal to be driving through the winding country roads that used to be my home.  When I pulled up to the farm, Fab came out to great me, and brought me to his 'house', aka a very sad-looking trailer behind the main farmhouse.  My face must have shown my surprise because he said "Alright, you get five minutes of laughter and then you have to move on".  It was pretty obvious that he too was aware of the irony of the situation.

He explained that was living there because he had lost a lot of money in the divorce due to the fact that he had brought his wife into the family business, something myself and everyone else in his family had strongly advised him against, and so he had no choice but to live there.  He also lost his organic certification after an inspector discovered they had been trying to cheat by using non-organic feed (as a side note, this is one of the reasons I don't often buy organic in France - in my experience, most of the farmers are doing it purely for the extra money it brings in, not because of their convictions - which means they cut corners and make substitutes wherever they can). 

I felt pretty gratified actually that he was able to acknowledge that I had been his moral compass, and he admitted that there is some truth to the saying that behind every great man is a great woman, and that he had unfortunately been too weak to push back on all of her suggestions. We had a long chat, and he apologized very sincerely for what he had done, and said it had weighed on him every day for the past nine years. 

I was also surprised with how much he remembered of our life together.  He asked very specific questions about several of my family members and co-workers, not to mention names of places we had been, etc, many of which I had long forgotten about. Although I guess I have a horrible memory in general, and can barely remember what I blogged about last year, so I shouldn't use myself for comparison lol.  It was very obvious though that he missed speaking English, contact with other foreigners and our regular trips to the US.

But this is getting a bit long, and I haven't even gotten to the best part yet, so I think I'll continue on with the rest tomorrow!

Happy New Year

Bonne année et meilleurs voeux to all my lovely blog readers.  2012 was a good year for the Ksam household and I have high hopes for 2013 as well!  We rung in the New Year chez nous with good company and an abundance of cheesy raclette goodness.  The only thing marring the night was a surprise text message from Fab's wife, sent from his phone, telling me to "occupe-toi de ton cul et laisse-nous tranquil salope".  It's a nasty little message full of spelling mistakes, saying "Take care of your own ass and leave us alone b*tch". 

Classy, huh?

I tweeted her text because it was bothering me yet it didn't really seem like an appropriate dinner topic, and my twitter friends were just as mystified as myself.  And it's still throwing me for a loop even a few days later.  I guess it just brings back some bad memories of the crazy MIL, who was constantly doing evil things behind my FIL's back.

But mainly, I just don't get it.  We have never had any kind of contact before, so why randomly text me on NYE?  The whole break-up occurred coming up on five years ago now, and it's not like Fab and I are in contact on a regular basis.  He sent me a text after the US elections saying "Looks like Once you go black, you never go back" and I wrote back saying I was glad to see he hadn't lost his sense of humor, but that was it.  So how does that merit an insulting SMS almost two months later?

I didn't reply to her, but I am somewhat tempted to email Fab and say "Do you realize your wife is a crazy biyatch?"  But I haven't yet, because 1) He probably does realize that (and it serves him right) and 2) If she's reading his texts, she is probably reading his emails too, so it wouldn't serve any purpose.

All of this has made me even more grateful that I am in Paris in a loving and drama-free relationship, and no longer isolated and lonely in Bretagne.  Another confirmation for me that everything happens for a reason, and I am definitely looking forward to the fun and new opportunities that 2013 will bring.

All Shook Up

And not in a good way.

C woke up yesterday feeling a little under the weather, and as the day went on, his symptoms worsened. Our hotel room has a gigantic bathtub, so he took bath and felt a little bit better.  The yucky feeling came back later on though, and so we decided to go sit in the hotel's hot tub.  After a few minutes, he mentioned he wasn't feeling well and so we got out.

As we were exiting the pool area, he sort of stumbled and caught himself on the door. I asked him if everything was alright and he wouldn't answer.  I kept insisting and then he said "I can't see anything" in French.  And then he passed out and fell on the floor.  Have you ever seen a 6'4" man go down?  It's pretty frickin' scary.

Luckily a bunch of military personnel had just arrived at the hotel and an EMT came racing over straight away. He was out cold and we both sat there doing our best to wake him up. I heard someone shout out "Call 9-1-1!"

Those few seconds? Minutes? that C wasn't responding - It was like a lifetime passing before my eyes. I imagined the most horrible of things, and felt my heart starting to break all over again. But then he finally came around. I started to feel hopeful, but he had a really glassy look and couldn't speak for a few seconds and I got even more scared. You could see he was looking at us and was very confused and disorientated.

But then all of a sudden he was back and awake and able to sit up, which was when the paramedics arrived, racing in with a stretcher. C tried to refuse their assistance (as he refused my suggestion of getting travel insurance), but they said they were required by law to check him out.  So out came the oxygen and the heart monitors.

After running several different tests, he was deemed okay, though he did have slightly low oxygen levels and slightly high blood sugar. The paramedics got the okay from the doctor they worked with and went on their merry way. Funnily enough, one of them was the husband of The Company's vet - which means that everyone and their dog will be au courant by the time I go into work on Monday.  But oh well, that's small town Minnesota for ya.

We went back to our room, and I just sat there, on the couch, with so much adrenalin running through my veins. So relieved he was okay.  But also scared. Scared of loving someone that much and scared at the thought something could ever happen to him. Scared at the idea of having to live without him. Scared of another broken heart.

I think that for a long time, I sort of kept C at arm's length because I was worried about getting hurt again.  And now I have let him in, and it's suddenly hit me that this means it could happen all over again. Not on purpose, but a freak accident, a disease, whatever.  Of course it's highly possible that we could both live happily ever after until the ripe old age of 90.  But thinking about the idea of "What If" scares the frickin' bejeezus out of me....

The last chapter

In what may be the ultimate sign that I have moved on, I completely forgot that Fab and Katell got married this past Saturday. Though if I'm honest, it does get my goat a little bit that they chose to get married exactly one week before C & I. I mean, what are the odds?? It's like they had to get one last little dig in. I have absolutely no clue what they were planning on doing for the wedding since communications have broken down to a fight over taxes (money gets ya every time), but I suppose I wish them well? If only because there is now a child involved...

Because everyone loves some good gossip....

So I got some big news this week. I was talking to Fab the other day and we were totally judging a friend's child-rearing techniques. After which, I laughed and said "Well, I suppose it's easy for us to say, we're not parents". And then Fab was suddenly silent on the other end. And I was like "Wait a minute, is there something you're not telling me?" And he said "Actually....Kathell/Cattle is pregnant, so I guess I'm going to be a father."

Whoa.

Let me just say it again - Whoa.

Now I knew it would happen sometime, but I guess I just wasn't expecting right now. (And apparently neither was he!)

But he seems to be at peace with the whole idea now, and honestly, so am I. Even though I didn't really want kids, Fab was the first one I actually talked about it with. We talked about what our kids would look like, what our hopes were for them, potential names, etc. At that point, I still saw him as the future father of my kids. So it's weird to think about him now having a child with someone else. But as I sit here typing this, ironically almost five years to the day that I started blogging AND just a few kilometers from where my French adventure began, I find that I'm mostly happy for him.

Time may not heal all wounds, but this one is at least getting smaller.

After shocks

One of the things I've tried really hard to do these past few months is not let what happened with Fab tarnish my relationship with C. I haven't taken the line of thinking that "All men are jerks", nor have I become all crazy jealous or suspicious or overly needy. At least on the conscious level. But my subconscious unfortunately sometimes decides otherwise.

C had to get up early yesterday AM to go to work, and I fell back asleep after he left. To a dream which involved him deciding to leave me and go back to his ex-girlfriend. Who, thanks to C's mom, now has a face in my dreams.

I'm pretty sure all of this was triggered by a comment that C's English host dad said this week. See, this past summer, C used his month of summer vacation to go volunteer on an organic farm in England (which I think is totally awesome, btw). And the family he stayed with just happened to be in Paris this past week, so we met up with them for dinner - despite their dislike of Americans. And the dad said something about how it was really nice to see C happy and dating someone new, because when he was in England, he was right in the middle of his "mourning period" for his ex-girlfriend. Which struck a chord with me because that wasn't very long before we started dating, and I guess I'd always been under the impression that he was completely over her by that point.

It also rears up when C's work organizes a pot and he stays after work to have a few drinks with his colleagues (many of them whom include fairly attractive females). Because Katell was Fab's co-worker, it immediately brings up uncomfortable memories. Luckily I am able to not freak out, and remind myself that it's two separate men, and two separate situations, but it frustrates me to no end that these feelings keep popping up.

And I think part of the reason I keep struggling with this is that Fab was such a nice, normal guy. All of his family and friends were so surprised when it happened, no one ever thought he'd cheat - let alone on me. So it's hard for me to be with another nice, normal guy and to really, truly, 100% believe him when he says I'm the only one for him.

Because I've heard that before too.

In many ways, it makes me sad to think about how despite my best efforts, it still has affected my relationship with C. I think about how because I was scared to let go, I missed out on those first few months of the relationship, where everything is fabulous and wonderful and it feels like you're flying. All unicorns and butterflies and all that jazz. Instead, I was practical and took it slow and didn't get too involved. But I'm watching a few friends go through that phase now, and it's so, so sweet. And I didn't let myself have that with C because I was worried about falling too fast and the possibility of getting hurt.

Sigh. I guess it's all part of the process though, non?

I'm traveling again for work this week, and have had about 2 hours of driving to do each night - which means I've spent a lot of time listening to the radio. I normally enjoy it - in fact, FYI - I'm usually the crazy person you see singing along with the music at the stoplight.

But these days, it seems like instead of playing music, the latest radio fad is to have the host call up your spouse/partner and pretend to be someone else to find out if they're cheating. On some stations, they'll pretend to get the wrong number and then flirt with the person and ask them out to see if they accept. On others, they'll pretend to be a flower shop and ask who they'd like to send the free flowers to. Most of the callers are women suspicious of their boyfriends/husbands, and I'm sorry to say that pretty much 9 times out 10, the guy is cheating. I guess the moral of the story is trust your gut ladies - if something seems off, it probably is.

If you want to listen to an example, click here, then scroll down to the bottom of the page and click on "Défi téléphonique - Les roses". Today's episode involved a woman finding out that her boyfriend of over a year was leading a double-life and had secretly been dating another woman for the past 8-9 months (the other woman was also being fooled) - Though I don't think it will be posted until tomorrow.

I don't know, I find it all so depressing. Here I am, in a still-fairly-new relationship, and it's really disheartening to realize just how many "normal" people out there are cheating. I don't think it's something that's specific to France, but I definitely do think it's more accepted here.

Up until now, I think I've done a pretty good job of not projecting my Fab-related trust issues on C, but man, when ya hear stuff like this day after day, it really makes it hard for a girl to think about getting seriously involved with someone again. And add to that a few recent break-up stories from friends + us being separated a lot due to my job and you've got one jumpy Ksam. Who should maybe be using her trigger-finger to change the radio station instead.

Thanks to those of you who have asked how I'm doing - still sick as a dog, but it's an evolving beast, this illness. What first seemed like the flu turned into a sinus infection and now I have lost my voice. The upside is that I'm feeling a lot better than I felt a few days ago, but the downside is that I've been meeting up with 2 or 3 friends a day, leaving me with just a wisp of a voice.

But it's just a small blip on an otherwise fabulous trip - I've gotten to see so many friends already and I've been able to spend a lot more time with my extended family than I normally do. I've been in Minneapolis this past week and it's been so much fun - I really love the Twin Cities and on so many occasions, I've just had spontaneous bouts of joy run through me. It's just the simple things - meeting up with friends at old hangouts, eating at my favorite restaurants, sitting on campus and chatting (or in my case, listening) under the bright sunshine. Realizing that I can still find my way around here no problem even after six years away. I've been to the Mall of America three times now - though the funny thing is, I haven't actually set a foot in any of the stores there. Of course all of this combined with late nights is probably just prolonging my illness, but what's a girl to do? I've only got this week to see everyone and I can't help but profite of all that comes way.

I had to laugh though when I met with my financial adviser. She was going over my paperwork and asked if I still wanted my mother and Fabrice listed as beneficiaries on my accounts and in my will. I decided to change it - not that Fab would ever go looking for any of that stuff if something ever did happen to me, but I just wanted to make it less of a hassle for my mother. She handed me a pen to sign the paperwork and as she did, I did a double-take - the pen that I was about to use to take Fab's name off my accounts was a pen that he had frickin' made.

A lot of you probably don't know this (I didn't), but Bic is a French company and Fab worked for them for several years in V-town. (It's also where he met the *ahem* lovely Katell). Anyone who ever visited us there knows that we had pens up the wazoo - including about a thousand copies of the Bic velocity pen sitting at that moment on my financial advisor's desk. Each model is produced at a certain site, and I was pretty sure that particular model was only made in France, at the V-town factory, but I flipped it over just to be sure - and there it was - the little "Made in France" logo. I had to laugh at the irony of the whole situation - in many ways, it was like it was all coming full circle.

And then I spent the night with an old friend, drinking Champagne and Côtes du Rhône at a ritzy bar in downtown Minneapolis. So yeah - no complaints from my end.

I woke up this morning and took my time getting up, enjoying the feeling of sleeping in my own bed for more than a few nights at a time. As I lay there, I started thinking about all the good things planned for this summer. And then it hit me - today marks one full year that I've been in Paris.

On May 28, 2008, I arrived at the Gare de Montparnasse, trying to figure out how the hell I was going to get to my new (and supposedly temporary) lodgings. The mom had talked about taking a bus - but what did I know about taking a bus in Paris? Little did I know that the trajet would soon become so familiar that I would be able to do it blindfolded and walking backwards.

But up until that point, I'd just been going and going and going. Trying to keep moving so that I wouldn't break down. But once I finally got here and was able to breath and set my bags down for more than a day, I was suddenly hit with panic. I thought to myself "What are you doing here? You've never lived on your own before. You don't know really anyone in Paris besides Kendra - everyone else is just from the internet. And besides, you don't even like France". I felt so alone, thinking about how my whole life had done a 180 in just a matter of a few weeks. Still not believing that I'd gone from living in a lovely stone gîte with all my nice stuff to a tiny chambre de bonne with practically nothing. And I cried myself to sleep that night, fearful that I'd made the wrong decision.

But the next morning, I woke up, opened the curtains and saw this:
And I said to myself "Suck it up, there are worse places in the world to pick up the pieces and mend a broken heart." Sure there were a few rough times, namely in January when I wasn't working much and the weather was terrible. But I have to say that Paris has been good to me. I feel like myself again, and am no longer the shell of a person that I was in Bretagne. I've made a life for myself here. And I'm oh-so-very happy I stuck it out and that I've been able to get to know another side of France. On my own terms.

Tonight is girls' night out, so I will toast to that - and to all the lovely ladies I've met in the past year!

Bitter much?

Fab called me the other day, just to see how I was doing, and it left me with a really bad taste in my mouth. For the first time, I felt angry with him - how is it fair that he gets to be happy? He screwed me over, and he's the one who's happy. I've always said I wanted him to be happy, but I sure wasn't feeling it then. Shame on me for wanting him to know what it's like to be hurt so badly. But hey, we've all got our weak moments. And at least I'm comforted in knowing that he always feels like crap after talking to me too. I don't know why that makes me feel better, but it does - like I'm not completely alone in my suffering.

He did share two pieces of news with me though, one good and one bad. The nice ex-SIL is pregnant, which is funny, because I had a dream last time I talked to her that she had a bun in the oven, so I asked her and she said no, we're not even trying. So congrats to them, she will make a wonderful mother (the verdict is still out on Fab's step-brother though, lol). The bad news is that the Père Chesnas died this weekend - he's the crazy (but lovable) old priest I've written about a few times before on my old blog. RIP Père.

PS. Père, if you're looking down on us from up there, please feel free to play a little trick on Fabrice - you know, escaped cows, a flat tractor tire - something along those lines. I promise I won't tell anyone and we both know he deserves it!! :)

Yesterday I did something I've been avoiding for several months now. I visited the customer that Fab and I visited together the day we broke up. I put it off for as long as possible because I just didn't want to go back there and be reminded of that day, but it was becoming inevitable and I finally decided to suck it up and get it over with. It was pretty much as bad as I was expecting, but then again, I'm tired, getting a cold and the ragnanas will be visiting soon, so I was already on shaky ground to start with.

I don't think my customer noticed anything, but man, I held back tears so many times yesterday. The worst was driving past the place where my life changed forever (dramatic much, Samantha?). Where I forced Fab to tell me what was wrong and he started crying and said "I can't do this anymore". And where my mind started reeling with a billion questions. What do you mean you can do this anymore?? What the f*ck are you talking about? Why the hell did you let me buy all this frickin' furniture? Because ah yes, I am practical even in the face of heartbreak. But that part of the highway is forever burned in my mind - how unfortunate that I will be forced to drive by there several times a year for as long as I work for The Company.

And then there are the nightmares I have for the few days after I have any kind of interaction with Fab. Why do our brains torture ourselves like that? Why do I have to constantly relive the humiliation of that day? The worst thing is, it's not even emotional, it's egotistical. I feel really bad admitting this, but it's like my ego still can't believe HE would dump ME. I was a step-up for him, he was a step-down for me. So how did I end up being the one with the short end of the stick? Why would he chose an uneducated, unemployed boyish-looking country chick over me? Why is he so ready to buy a home, get married, have kids with her after only a few months of being together? That is what I can't understand, what I can't let go of. And it haunts me in my dreams.

For the first time in a long time, I felt like going to a church yesterday. I just felt the need to sit in silence and pray. To ask someone, anyone, for peace. Or at least respite. Of course, this being France, every church in every single town I drove through was locked up tight. So instead, I went back to the hotel and had some wine and watched America's Next Top Model. What else was a girl to do?

You know, 95% of the time, I'm okay with what's happened. It can't be changed and I don't miss farm life a bit. I've got a pretty good thing going in Paris, great friends and I know I'm better off in the long run, blah blah blah. But the other 5% of the time, I still wonder how the hell I ended up this way? Alone, living in a shitty apartment where I'll be able to stay for who knows how long. How did this happen to me? I've worked so hard to get where I am in life, and this is all I've got to show for it? It's just not where I pictured myself at this age.

So basically, I just want to know when this all gets easier. When coming to see my clients in this area will no longer make my heart clench involuntarily. When seeing places we've visited together will no longer affect me. When the mere mention of Bretagne will not make me shake my fist in the air in its general direction (you all know you've seen me do it). When this part of the process will be over with. When the thought of meeting someone new will not automatically make me run in the other direction for fear of another broken heart.

When.

When?

When!

Alright, here's the deal with the whole Creepy Jesus thing for you newbies out there. My saying this is Creepy Jesus country mean the Pays de la Loire is full of religious zealots. What I mean is that there are scary Jesus-on-the-cross statues on the corner of pretty much every country road you pass by here. I wrote a posts about it here and here on my old blog.

It's not the easiest thing in the world to be here - this area is so linked to my old life as well, and if I'm not paying attention, I could easily turn left on the freeway out of habit and start going back to Bretagne at the end of the day, instead of going right towards Angers. The particular customer I visited today was the one Fab and I had visited the day we broke up. I was a little nervous about going there, but it actually ended up being just fine. Thinking about what happened on that drive home though still gives me little pincement au coeur - how ignorant I was to have looked forward to that day for so long, to not have realized why Fab was trying to get out of coming with me on my visit. I thought he was just worried about being away from the farm for a whole day. But I guess hindsight is 20/20, right?

And on that note, I would like to wish a very happy birthday to Miss Yuri - I wish I could be there to celebrate with you!

It's just one of those days...

Do you guys ever have days where you wake up feeling ugly and like no one will ever love you again?

Or is it just me?

(And yes, I realize that tomorrow will be a new day)

Alright, now on to the good stuff. I met up with the nice (ex)SIL the other night. She told me all kinds of interesting gossip, most of which made me feel even worse for Katell. How f**ked up is that? I'm feeling bad for the girl who stole my boyfriend. (Okay, well, to be fair, she didn't steal him - she just put herself out there and he took the offer. She was cheating on her own bf though).

Apparently though the night of their crémaillère/house-warming party, all the "kids" had a huge blow-up about me, and suprisingly enough, it was started by Fab's younger sister. No other than celle qui m'a envoyé chier after we broke up. And then his other sister and the nice SIL started in on him about how he was a huge coward, how what he did sucked and how he was moving too fast with this girl - apparently he even cried, and the SILs did too. Fab's stepbrother tried to distract poor Katell during this time, but obviously she could still hear what was going on. How's that for a "welcome to the home we're trying to build together" party?

On top of that, it's been about five months now and he is still saying "nous" and "on" in reference to me, even in front of Katell. He does it pretty much every time they have a family get-together. They all went to Brest this past Saturday to celebrate his older sister's birthday, and he did it again there, in front of the whole family. Katell elbowed him in the ribs and they all just kind of froze, not knowing what to do. Granted, I still talk a lot about Fab too when comparing experiences, but I don't have a new bf.

She also said his older sister & her husband don't like Katell, and are still pissed that Fab didn't tell them we'd broken up. They found out when they showed up for Fab's dad's retirement party over a month later, and saw Fab there with someone who was not me. Can you imagine? How awkward would that be?

It was really nice to see her again and to catch up on what's been going on with the family. For as crazy as they were, they were the only family I had in France. And is it bad that all of this makes me feel better? Like I haven't been forgotten? I mean, sept ans, ça s'oublient pas comme ça, right??

What to say?

These past ten days have been full of so many ups & downs. I don't even want to know what my blood pressure is right now. The fact that I'm writing right now from V-town isn't helping either. I don't even know what to write. There are so many emotions turning around inside me that I just feel exhausted.

V-town is chez moi, and it's so odd to be back here. Walking around, it's almost like these past five months never happened and that nothing has changed. My stores are still there, my restaurants as well. I still run into people I know. I can still rattle off directions to tourists looking for X street or Y magasin. It's like this was all just a bad dream and I could walk right back to our apartment and see Fab waiting for me. (Note: this is not what I want, it's just how I feel).

But I guess I've always been like that - with the exception of this last trip, every time I've gone home, I've fallen back into the rhythm of things so easily and it's like France never existed. And now it's happening here as well. It doesn't make it any less painful to be here though. In Paris, it's easy to pretend that I've always been there, that my time in Bretagne didn't happen. But now that I'm here, it's pretty much right up in my face and I can't ignore it. My shoulders feel heavy and my mind clouded.

I'm doing such a bad job of describing this, aren't I? The one thing that's clear is that I cannot wait until Friday night when I can get out of here. I'm tired of my clients asking me why I don't live in V-town any more. I'm tired of trying to figure out what I think about the apartment scam. Speaking of which, I've been touch with the girl several times now - she tried to go porter plainte, but the police told her it was a civil affair (same as they told us). Today, she tried to go file a report at the Tribunal de Grands Instance, but they deemed that she had not been scammed, and told her that I had to do it instead. She believes that we are victims of the scam that Pauline referenced in her comment, and I'm starting to believe her. But for my mental health, I think I just need to let it go. I can't wait to get back to Paris and get my whole housing situation sorted out. I hate having all of this hanging over me. I want a home, I need stability.

Sigh. Can someone please bring back the carefree days of summer?

One of the things I've been pondering today is when a relationship breaks up because of cheating, what happens in the mind of the cheater? I mean, here you have all of these rituals and habitudes built up with one person - how do you just immediately move on to someone else? I've never been in that situation, so I'm curious as to what happens.

Before anyone gets on my case and tells me (yet again) to "move on", I'd like to say this is not something I'm dwelling on - it's something that crossed my mind as Kendra and I were in McDonald's earlier. As a side note, I'd just like to say that I'm really anti-McDonald's, but my throat was hurting and their 95 centime strawberry milkshake (and free toilet) was just too much for me to resist.

Anyways. Back to Macdo. Fab loves to eat at McDonalds, but knowing I'm against it, the only way he knew he could eat there was by offering to buy me a McFlurry, ie. the closest thing to a Blizzard a girl can find in France. It became our Sunday ritual - he would go buy a McFlurry and we would eat them on the couch while watching American TV. Of course, he always secretly got himself a Big Mac and ate in the car on the way home...but it was never really that secret because he always forgot to throw away the wrapper and I'm the one who always cleaned the car. Incidentally, it's also part of the reason I thought he'd never cheat on me - his attention to detail is just not the best, lol.

But back to me and Kendra. As we were waiting in line, the person in front of us ordered a McFlurry and it got me wondering if Fab had continued the Sunday McFlurry trend with Cattle. I can't imagine doing that, I haven't even thought about ordering one since - it was always our thing. But maybe it's different if you're the cheater? Which started me thinking about our other things - our Saturday nights watching "Lost" in the summer and then laughing about the creepy little "Bad Robot" at the end. Sunday nights with "Capital". And on and on. I mean, seven years is a long time to build up rituals. So I'm curious - what happens when you suddenly find yourself in a relationship with a new person, when you're fresh out of an old one? Is it weird? Do you form new rituals? Do you try to go on with the old ones? I guess these are all rhetorical questions - though I'm sure if I asked Fab the next time he called, he'd answer them for me. I do hope that I'm never in the place to answer this question personally, I'd like to think I have higher standards than that, but I guess you just never know.

Ugh, I feel all jumbly. Fab just called me out of the blue and we talked for over half an hour (on his dime, which is a huge surprise). It's so strange to talk to him because every time I do, we just slip back into our old banter, and I have to fight myself not to do it, not to let him off the hook so easy. I guess that's maybe normal after you've spent so much time with someone? Or because things didn't end in a huge screaming match?

He was calling to make sure I'd gotten his text message re:my birthday, and to say that he was sorry he missed it and that he'd thought about it on the 25th but that it was the 27th before he realized it. He kept asking where I was, but I just didn't feel like telling him. I don't want him to know yet that things are going well for me, nor that I'm still in France.

He said that he still thinks about me a lot and that he feels really bad that things happened the way they did. And that I am still the best person he's ever met - to which I replied "I don't think Katell would be happy if she heard you say that". He said he's mostly happy with her though, but that they barely see each other because he's working so much. That things are really hectic at the farm and that he's getting really backed up on paperwork since I'm not there to remind him anymore to do it. That he's flat broke, but that I already knew. And that I'll see, one day I will look back on this and thank him because I deserve so much better than the life I had. And that he'll still be there on the farm, flat-broke, balding & fat. Good lord I hope so.

He said that his dad still asks about me, but that everyone else is just pretending like I never existed - no surprise there. The good news is that the MIL got over her little outburst really quickly, so that just confirmed to Fab & his dad that she was lying. Hopefully that bodes well for me too for this fall.

I finally ended the call because it was just getting a little bit too familiar, too many inside jokes. And then the "mon lapin" started coming out again - that's where I draw the line. I do appreciate that he called though, that he wants to make sure I'm doing okay - considering how much he hates confrontation and how guilty he feels about this whole thing, I know it couldn't have been easy for him to do. But hell, it wasn't easy for me either.

Soooooo, the answer is...........Wait a minute. First of all, I would like to say only 73 people voted. So what's the excuse of the other 250 of you out there who read that post? Come on people, I'm trying to make it interactive here, lol.

Okay, getting back on topic - looks like 60.3% of you were right. I didn't get a text from Fab, but there's no surprise there, the man never knows what day it is and would lose his head if it wasn't attached. Considering that he's been texting me on a fairly regularly basis, I'm sure I'll get one eventually saying "Oops, sorry, I missed your b-day (again)." I would also like to shake my finger at the 13.7% of you who chose the third option - y'all are such poor sports!!

In other news, I have been happily fighting the crowds to check out the summer soldes. Most of you know that Fab worked for BIC for a long time. Well, every Christmas, they give their employees a gift card, usually for around 120€. I was really excited this year because I'd been planning on using them to buy furniture for our new house. But come Feb/March, I couldn't find them anywhere. I practically turned the gîte upside down looking for them, and no luck! I was really bummed (though it turned out to be a blessing in disguise because that way I didn't end up spending them).

They were still on my mind when I moved out, even though I still couldn't find them. Luckily though while unpacking my stuff in MN, I found them stuck in the hidden pocket of one of my purses. So I when I found out the soldes started a day before my birthday, I decided that 120€ was going to be my birthday present to myself. But in an attempt to continue with my wish of not buying things just because they are cheap, I've tried to restrain myself to buying things that would be really useful. So instead of just going crazy because I had money to burn, I've tried to be thoughtful about my purchases. I've bought two scarves, two pairs of shoes (check out my new ballerines!!), a dress and a light sweater. And on the housing end, I finally found the damn shower shelf I've been looking for for almost a month now, plus the supplies I needed to finally organize my jewelry again. I've still got 40€ left to use up before June 30, and I'm actually having trouble spending it because I don't want to just buy crap. Maybe a trip to Sephora is in order, to replace some of the stuff I threw out when I thought I was moving back to the US....
PS. For those of you wondering, I had a great birthday yesterday, and I would like to give a special shout-out to Kyliemac for coming over at the last minute to share a bottle of birthday rosé with me. It was the perfect ending to a great day (and yay for sparkly Eiffel Towers!)

So, one of the things I've been wondering while drinking my morning tea is if Fab will send me a "Happy Birthday" text message today or not. I'm leaning towards no, because 1) he's forgotten my birthday ever year for the past seven years and 2) he's really cheap and never has any credit on his phone.

A friend of mine though is leaning towards yes though, saying he'll remember this year out of guilt. And because I don't have time to write a decent post today, I'm putting up a poll (in the side bar). So vote away, and I'll let you know the answer tomorrow!