We meet again, and this time, I'm employed. In France.

Thanks to the speed of Guadeloupe, I've all but entirely abandoned my post as blogger girl. We've moved - finally (insert under the breath compilation of curse words meant to drive home the essence of finally) to a new house in Guadeloupe. In fact we've been there for over a month, and my dreams of clacking away on my laptop on the sunny terrace have been pushed into the corner with the boxes we still have not unpacked. Apparently there are some necessary steps for getting internet at a new address in Guadeloupe, involving one where we wait for a letter from the internet company to arrive from Martinique so that we can then send it back, so that they can approve moving our internet service from the old house to the new. Really? Really. I may possibly have mentioned before the (lack of any) sense of urgency in Guadeloupe. Et, voila.
And so we wait.
It's been a good exercise really, because if we want to really use the net for an extended length of time, to research travel information for example, we need more than an iphone moving at the speed of Orange Caraibe. Generally speaking though, it's surprising what we don't miss once it's gone. I did however miss hurling my thoughts into the blog from time to time. I went old school and did some writing with a pen and paper. That was fun.

So we've got a new home, I got myself a car, and in a rather unceremonious sequence of events, I also got myself a job. I'm thrilled to have the job, and won't knock it for a second, but I will say that I was warned ahead of time about French administration, and boy were they right to warn me. I'll just say it's a bit like everything else in Guadeloupe - put on your patient hat. I'm able to write today because I've landed in Toulouse for some job training. Between Paris, where I changed planes, and Toulouse, I've already encountered two strangers who told me that I was the first American they've ever met who spoke French. I find this to be in contrast with the number of American people I know who speak French. Anyway, what still shocks me is that I get by with relative ease with the limited French I have, and I think that's pretty cool. A year ago I would have been hurting for communication in France.
It's nice to get this small blog blurb out of my system and onto the keyboard. But I really need to figure out what time it is, and where I should eat lunch. You know, the important things. Food and timing. Since I'm in the land of foie gras and other assorted duck products, I'm going to enjoy the local flavor and eat me some duck this week, preferably in or alongside some sort of red wine. Followed by something sinful and sweet which will not help with the size of my ass but I really could not care less this week. I'm in France! As my mother would say, "EAT SOMETHING!' I'll make you proud mom, really I will.