...

Back to school in a week.

Weird.

Wonder what it'll be like to hit campus again? 

Christmas

Can't honestly believe its come and gone.

But, it is truly one of the most special days of the year.  There's nothing I love more than opening presents with my family, and then spending hours watching the new movies or tv shows we got.  Or sitting at the dinner table, reading the Christmas story ((even though we all act annoyed)).  Or visiting family.  Or, as we do on every Christmas night, watching The Muppet Christmas Carol.

Days such as this make me thankful.

dream

I had an incredibly, incredibly strange dream last night.  While I only remember a few distinct parts, the one that was on my mind this morning when I woke up is this.

In the dream, I was walking up some stairs carrying a bag of buttery, greasy popcorn and a giant bag of cookies.  My sister was at the bottom of the stairs and said, "Carolyn, you need to stop eating.  You're so fat."

off for a run at Bur Mil.

SNOW

around the yard...first snow of the season!

Home

I honestly had no faith that coming home would be a positive experience.  I honestly expected to kind of be a grouch about being home.

But, being home has actually been refreshingly good.  Sleeping in my own bed, seeing my grandparents, eating breakfast at my kitchen table, having my cat sleep at my feet, seeing my friends and family...even driving my car!

These small comforts have made my transition easier.  I still don't think that its completely hit me that I'm home yet, and I know that there are several encounters awaiting me in the next week or so that I am not really ready for yet, but in the long run I am very thankful that I have been happy to be home.

As I continue to transition and apply all that I learned in France about life, myself, and my relationship with Christ, to my life here at home, I just cannot stop thinking about the idea that every small moment, change, event in my life is another part of my path, one of many stepping stones that are leading me forward.

I've decided that while I might not know exactly what stone I'm standing on now, I do know, I think really and truly for the first time, who I am.

Just don't want to believe it...

Final weekend:
final kebab.
final french movie.
final patisserie.
final soiree with my friends.
final sequana moment.
final (4 hour) lunch with my host family.
final train to Paris.

Is it already time for me to leave?

I just spent the past 10 minutes walking around the house, looking at everything I could, trying to just grasp the fact I'm leaving.

What I have to keep in mind--what I am doing my best to keep in mind--is that these "final" things are opening the door to another phase of my life.

fellowship

Because I love reading, literature, movies...and have a horrible tendency to quote movies and books almost more than I say original thoughts...I have of course been comparing my life to epic stories like Lord of the Rings.

Yes, this post might as well be a great flashing sign telling you that I'm a nerd, but I am completely ok with that.

Us nine Wake Forest students here in Dijon this semester decided that we were like the Fellowship of the Ring, and therefore we gave everyone a LOTR character. (I would like to underline that this was totally a group idea...so I'm not the only crazy one.)

Peter, semi-frat star but ever sweet and personable, was dubbed Aragorn.


Lauren, loving, super smart, and always organized...naturally, Gandalf.


MaryKate, red-headed sweetheart with an affinity for complaining; thats Gimli.


Me, always the trouble maker and continual goofball, got the role of Pippin.


Jenn, quiet but hilarious, is Merry.


Kara, so sweet and loyal, definitely gets to be Sam.


Wright, just because he's awkward and we didn't know who he should be, is Frodo.


Carleigh, always a little bit out there but always graceful...without question, Legolas.


Miles, because he's always willing to do what no one will, is Boromir.


We also decided that Madame Barbour gets to be Bilbo, and our favorite chauffeur Patrick is Treebeard.
All of this crazy, awkward, nerdy comparing to the Lord of the Rings (besides the fact that its pretty funny) is just indicative of the bond that our group has formed.

We don't always get along. Some of us are closer than others. Some of us are ready to leave France, some of us aren't. But the point is, this unique group of individuals made this semester more than memorable for me.

I have found, in this group, 8 new amazing friends...and even if we aren't as close when we get back to Wake as we are right now, I know for sure that the friendships will, in some form or fashion, continue.

"And the fellowship of the ring... though eternally bound by friendship and love...was ended."


I am beginning to feel a bit more peace about going home. I've spent much of the last few days praying and journaling, trying to rationalize the crazy swirl of emotions.

"How do you pick up the threads of an old life?"


I've decided that one of the biggest emotions that is getting me is the overwhelming sensation that time passed so quickly. I honestly and completely do not believe that its December and that I am flying to the States in less than two days.

What I am realizing, though, is that this experience is not ending when I leave French soil. I have been completely and irrevocably changed by this experience. I have grown up more than I ever though possible. I've overcome a culture shock and a language barrier. I've learned independence but dependence on the Lord. I've traveled to different countries and all over France. In one single moment, God told me, reassured me, that His purpose for my career is special education. I've laughed, cried, been frustrated, been homesick, been so content, made stupid decisions, learned from them, made good decisions, learned from them...and the list goes on and on.

So yes, while the next few days, and probably the next week or two, are going to be really hard for me, I know that I'll be fine. Because there are so many things back home that I have missed, so many people who love me and who could not be more excited for my return...and that'll make all the difference in the world.

" ...you cannot always be torn in two. You will have to be one and whole for many years. You have so much to enjoy and to be and to do. Your part in the story will go on."

The List

I'm taking a break from studying for my final.

I might regret this in the morning at 8am when the test is placed in front of me, but I am so mentally zonked right now, I just do not care.

Today I had my last class with one of my favorite professors, Stephane. He talked for a few minutes with Lauren, Peter, Miles, and me and told us to make The List.

The List is just that...a list of things that we are going to do, people we are going to see, foods we are going to eat, when we get back to the United States. Why make a list?

"Tu fais Le Liste pour que la porte de l'avion soit deja ouverte quand tu arrives aux Etats Unis...pour que tu saches deja ou tu es."

"you make the list so that the plane door is already open when you land in the States...so that you know already where you are."

Stephane also made the entire class be silent, and told the us Wake Forest kids to put our heads down and close our eyes.

Silence.

"Dijon."

What came to my mind? My host family and the house. Next my classes. And finally, my walk every day to the bus.

It was all I could do not to cry in class as Stephane told us that these were the images that, from now on when something made us think of France, would surge to the front of our minds.

A very wise man told me yesterday that my experience in France is my latest stepping stone, but just one piece of the entire journey, and that I cannot be frustrated because the next stone seems different.

Three and half months ago, I never would have imagined that going home would be hard. But, I'm 4 days away from my flight to the States and I feel like this might be the hardest thing I have ever had to do.

So while I'm unhappy in this moment now, I know that I will not always feel this way.

I am going to make The List.

What will I do when I get home?

PRAY.
Visit my best friends.
See my family.
Hug my girl Brooks and her sweet brother John.
Hold my kitty Indigo.
Eat Cook-Out BBQ and milkshakes.
Drive my car.
Go to Target.
Watch movies with Laura.
Run at Bur-Mil.
Shop for Christmas presents.
See New Moon in english.
Read for fun.
See my church family.
Sing Christmas songs.

...speak in French whenever I possibly can.


I know that I have changed this semester, and I thank God for blessing me with such a rich experience. I've grown up, discovered my purpose in life, learned independence...

And as dear Pops reminded me, yes, my next stepping stone seems different.

But this just my next challenge.

Decision

I'm going to be selfishly unhappy to go home.

I don't want to leave France.

Not one bit.

And honestly, I couldn't really give you a reason.

I just know.

I don't want to go.

Simply, Completely, Truly...

Blessed.

I don't know how else to say it.

Tonight, I had dinner with my host family and my real family.

The two worlds that have defined me the most, meeting together in one place.

First of all, it was a rather hilarious dinner. My host parents speak very little English (in fact, my host dad doesn't speak it at all) and my real family speaks very little French. My professor, Madame Barbour, came along to help translate. But regardless, it was amusing to be caught in between the two languages (there were a lot of mismatched sentences for me, half in English and French when I was trying to talk in just one or the other). It was also hilarious to hear my mother and father try to speak French. And watch my brother drink wine and champagne. And to watch my host dad pull a bird he'd killed on his last hunt out of the freezer, all feathers still attached, to show my family.

All amusement aside, I can honestly say that this was the most unique experience of my life. To be able to share each of my families with each other; to show each family what the other family is like...never again will I have that.

We were 8 people, of different languages and backgrounds, brought together just because I happened to be the common link. And now, after 3 hours together, we know and understand each other a little bit more.

When I sit here thinking about it, I can't help but be moved.

I'll be home in less than two weeks. Which distresses me and excites me all at the same time. But, I can say now that tonight's dinner made my time here in France more complete.

To be able to share this experience with my family is a treasure that I will never forget.

Just this afternoon, I received two letters from two of the brightest stars in my life. One, from a rambunctious little girl named Brooks who teaches me how to be a more loving person every single second of every single day, and the other from her sweet brother John, who teaches me how to laugh more every single second of every single day.

Those letters, when added to the incredible experience I had at dinner, just make for a completely outstanding day.

I am simply, completely, and truly blessed. I do not think I will ever comprehend why the Lord has given me the life I have. I deserve far less...but thats the beauty of the Lord, isn't? His blessings have nothing to do with my shortcomings or my merit...they are based completely on His grace.

Blessed.

Caught

Honestly, I cannot fathom being anywhere but here.

Right here, at my little french desk in my little french room in my little french town.

What does it mean when an experience that was so unreal becomes your reality?

What does it mean when everything you once held as "normal" --the things you fought to hold on to because you hated, hated change--have passed into some far away land that just does not seem a part of your life anymore?

not liking this feeling.

I think the next few weeks are going to be a bit rough. I'm caught.

Caught in a place where I don't know how to feel. Do I be selfishy unhappy to be going back home in two weeks, knowing full well how many people miss me and how it honestly will be incredible to see them, laugh with them, and hug them again...or do I just appreciate this experience I've had, and head home without a regretful glance behind me?

The solution seems to be simple...rest in the middle. Accept both feelings and take it one day at a time.

But I hate not knowing.

Not knowing which is certain, which is going to prove to be the stronger emotion. I don't think I would be happy with either of these emotions proving to be the stronger, but I am not content to rest in the middle.

Finally Dublin

On Thursday night, our plane landed in Dublin around 10pm. After going through customs (yay new stamp on the passport) and figuring out the bus to the hostel, Lauren, Jenn, and I headed to the hostel and Kara headed to meet her friend since she was staying at her friend's apartment. Our hostel proved to be quite nice, especially for the price. We had some inconsiderate roommates the first night, but thats the way it goes sometimes.

Friday morning, we got up bright and early to hit the city. Lauren's friend Elliot is studying in Dublin and graciously agreed to be our tour guide/plan our days for us. Talk about awesome! Our first stop was Trinity College where we saw the Book of Kells.

The Book of Kells is an ancient illuminated book of the Gospels and it was fascinating. Next up was Christ Church Cathedral, Dublin's oldest church. It was smaller than a lot of the cathedrals I've visited, but the inside was beautiful. The tiles on the floors were incredible.

After delicious foccacia bread at a little Italian place called Panem, we walked around the outside of Dublin Castle and then went to Queen of Tarts. Reccommended by Jenn's host family, this little dessertery was outstanding.

It just so happened to be a dreary Ireland day. Now imagine a fresh warm apple crumble served with warm cream. Divine.

After the Queen of Tarts, we met up with Kara and some of Jenn's Wake friends and headed to the Guinness Storehouse. There, we learned how beer is made and had lots of fun taking pictures of it all, as well as tasting some beer. At the end of the tour, you could either redeem your ticket for a beer in the cafe up at the very top, which gives a 360 degree view of the city, or learn to pull your own pint. My friends and I chose to pull our own pints!

Here's a few photos from the storehouse:

my friend Jenn and me.

the group! (sans Kara and moi)

Barley!

pulling my pint!

"It comes in pints? I'm getting one!"

I'm certified...

After the storehouse, we headed back to the hostel to chill for about 45 minutes and then headed to dinner.

Now, I am not one to exaggerate...often. But I have to say that the authentic Irish dinner that I had at a Pub called O'Neill's (where lots of locals like to hang out) was probably the best meal I have ever eaten. I ordered beef and Guinness stew with sides of carrots and mashed potatoes. And of course, Bulmer's ale to wash it down.

After dinner, we listened to a bit of local music but decided to head back to the hostel early since we were all exhausted.Saturday, Kara, Jenn, and I went on a day trip outside of the city. It rained on and off the entire day, but I thoroughly enjoyed the trip. Our bus rolled through beautiful countryside and passed the Blessington Lakes (HUGE) and then stopped at Glendalough, an ancient monastery founded by St. Kevin, the man who gave the world the celtic cross.

After the tour around the ruins, we had about an hour to walk some of the surrounding trails. Kara and I headed to Upper Lake and Lower Lake, and now begins the plethora of pictures that document our adventure.

After Glendalough, we headed to a small town called Avoca where the oldest hand mill in Ireland still exists today. After eating a late lunch and shopping for lots of things I couldn't afford, the tour headed back to Dublin. On the way back, I was lucky to witness the brightest, biggest double-arched rainbow I have ever seen. I took about 200 pictures, but lets face it, this post is already about 3 miles long. Here's my favorite:

(and one to show the double arches).

Saturday night, we went on a musical pub crawl. I could go on for hourssss about this. Condensed version: tour of three Irish pubs led by two authentic Irish musicians who played Irish music for us and taught us songs. It was the highlight of my time in Dublin.

Joe the guitarist.

Andy the violinist (swoon!)

Sunday morning, Jenn and I grabbed fresh scones (raspberry and apple!) from the Queen of Tarts and enjoyed them in the little park outside St. Patrick's Cathedral.

We then rendez-vous-ed with the rest of the group for a second breakfast at a place called Gruel, which served an absolutely delicious full Irish breakfast.

After that, it was back to the airport and back to France.

I am one darn lucky lady...

...or should I say lassie?

Dommage

Why is it that EVERY time I interact with one of my insanely attractive host brothers, I am awkward? Tonight's possible answers include:

A) I haven't showered in almost two days.
B) I'm running on 3 hours of sleep.
C) He was sick and therefore, while I sat next to him at dinner, I shifted away from him every time he so much as looked like he was going to sniff, cough, or sneeze.
D) Perhaps I'm just awkward.

Christophe's 25th birthday was October 27, but tonight was the first opportunity he had to come home to celebrate. I had no idea he was here until I walked into the dining room and saw him at the table.

Thank goodness for birthday champagne that is oh-so-good at relaxing those who drink it.

Regardless, it would be nice to have just one interaction with him where I looked/smelled decent. At least tonight when I spoke I didn't make a fool of myself like I had in times past. Sign of progress.

I catch the 6:30am train tomorrow morning to the airport so I can head to Prague until Sunday. I am SO excited.

Just two more essays that stand in my way.

and that's two too many.

Dublin updates soon, it was an AMAZING weekend.

FINALLY

Thursday is here and I am about to head to Dublin!

I am SO crazy excited. I've wanted to go to Ireland all my life, and I finally have the chance to do so! I am unbelievably blessed to have this opportunity.

Until Sunday!

(that is, if I ever come back from the great, green land where the history is overflowing, the music is more than spectacular, and men talk with an accent that makes me weak in the knees.)

Standing in My Way...

Two Papers.

Two Tests.

Two Days.

ready to go to Dublin....

Needle & Thread

When the world welcomes us in,
We're closer to Heaven than we'll ever know
They say this place has changed,
But strip away all of the technology
And you will see
That we all are hunters,
Hunting for something
That will make us okay.

Here we lay alone
In hospital beds tracing life in our heads
But all that is left
Is that this was our entrance and now it's our exit,
As we find our way home.

And all the blood and all the sweat
That we invested to be loved
Follows us into our end,
Where we begin to understand.

We are made of love,
And all the beauty stemming from it.
We are made of love,
And every fracture caused by the lack of it.

"You were a million years of work,"
Said God and His angels, with needle and thread.
They kissed your head and said,"You're a good kid, and you make us proud.
So just give your best and the rest will come,
And we'll see you soon."

And all the blood and all the sweat
That we invested to be loved,
Follows us into our end
We begin to understand.

Maybe Hollywood was right:
When the credits have rolled and the tears have dried,
And the answers that we have been dying to find
Are all pieced together and, somehow,
Made perfectly mine, mine, mine
Made perfectly mine

We are made of love,
And all the beauty stemming from it.
We are made of love,
And every fracture caused by the lack of love.
Caused by the lack of love...

--Sleeping at Last

WEEEEEEEE

My family is coming to visit me!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Dear France,

Please be ready for my entire family, but mostly my mother. She's been listening to "Learn French" cds. It'll be quite a sight to behold when she finally lands on le sol francais.

Respectfully yours,
Carolyn

All that being said, I could not be more thrilled that she (and of course my entire family) are coming.

My dad chose to inform me of their final decision to come visit by sending me the confirmation email for the plane tickets. I was checking my email and one of them had the subject header of "Your US Airways Flight Info." Confused, and thinking perhaps it was something to do with my flights to Dublin or Prague, I clicked open the email to read:

Passenger Name:
Stephen St Cyr
Sarah St Cyr
Laura St Cyr
Stephen M St Cyr

Trip Details:
Depart: Charlotte, NC --> Paris, France

I started laughing hysterically and crying at the same time.

Laughing because its awesome they're coming and because that is SOOO my Dad, not telling anyone he'd decided they would go and just booking the tickets early one Saturday morning and telling me by sending me the confirmation email.

Crying because I was so happy and just so darn lucky to have a family that has the means to come visit.

They'll be here in month! So excited.

Florence

You know you're extremely lucky and kind of ungrateful when...

...you hate leaving Italy to go back to France.

After a two hour wait in the train station on Thursday night (thank you delayed trains), Kara and Carleigh and I finally boarded the night train bound for Italy. We made the occupants of beds 61-66, Car 85 rather angry, as we knocked on their door mulitple times confused as to why they wouldn't let us in, only to realize that we should have been bothering the occupants of beds 61-66 in Car 86 instead. Finding the right compartment, we settled in for the night. The three people who were already there had rather rudely taken our blankets and pillows. So, I passed a rather sleepless night (thank you, IPod) using my Northface and a sweater as blankets and my back pack as a pillow.

We arrived in Florence around 10:30 the next morning. Famished, we found a little hole in the wall pizza place and with lots of hand signals and laughing ordered pizzas and scarfed them down. We also left our mark on the restaurant.

After lunch, we headed to Il Duomo. Only the most recognizable symbol of Florence, this amazing church that had me dancing around in joy because I was finally seeing it with my own eyes. I took an early Italian Renaissance Art course my freshman year, and we talked about Florence almost more than we talked about paintings.



After seeing the Duomo and the museum right beside it (housing Michaelangelo's Pieta and Donatello's Mary Magdelene), we met up with Tyler, a friend from Wake who is studying in Florence. He took us to get our first gelato and see Santa Maria Novella, another famous church in Florence.

The gelato was oustanding. And after consuming the calories, we decided to climb the Duomo...all 463 stairs! It was quite the hike, but the view of the city was unbelievably worth the climb and the 8 euro price tag.

After meeting up with more kids from Wake, we ate dinner at an authentic Italian restaurant. I had two courses...first, "pasta with sauce like your grandmother would make" was the translation, and then roasted chicken. We went and got gelato again...and it was even better than the first gelato we ate.

Saturday morning, Kara, Carleigh, and I strolled through the streets of Florence on our way to meet Tyler. We cross the famed Ponte Vecchio, which couldn't have been more beautiful in the morning.

We then climbed up one of the hillsides to visit San Miniato al Monte, a church and monastery. The monks chant every morning at 4:30, but we defintely did not get up that early. We did sit in on part of a mass though, and I don't think I will ever ceased to be amazed by the power and might of attending worship in a centuries old church and just appreciating the magnitude that is God.

After lunch and more gelato, we went to see Michaelangelo's David. Sadly photos were forbidden, but this was my reaction:

KJAHOISUFOIEUF:L":ANFLKUSADHANM:L""?>">AJA:LDK}P!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

It looked that that perfectly scuplted marble man was breathing. Truly and completely and totally amazing.

We also went to the Uffizi that afternoon, where we saw Botticelli's Birth of Venus, along with other famous works by classic Renaissance artists. It was particularly nice for me to see works Giotto and Lippi as well.

After a nap at the hostel, we headed off to meet our friends Matt and Thomas for dinner at the best pizza place in the world. Legitimately. The pizza I ate was the Campione del Monde 2002 (Champion of the World).

Three different kinds of pizza on one: tomatoes and basil; mushrooms, truffle oil, and gorgonzola cheese; and cabbage and something else delicious. Sounds odd, but legit was the best pizza I've ever had. That dinner was one of the highlights; not only did we get to spend time with Matt and Thomas, but they brought two of their friends Natalie and Anna, who were so much fun and it was great to get to know them.

On Sunday morning, we had a delicious breakfast of real Italian cappucino and pastries and then spent more money than we should have at the morning markets. I bought a sweater and cameo earrings, which according to the couple who sold them to me, are real cameos. Even if they aren't, they're still gorgeous.

The Bargello, famous museum with famous sculptures, was sadly closed because it was the third Sunday of the month. Random? Since we missed out on that, we decided to stroll through the Boboli Gardens at the Palazzo Pitti, which were gorgeous.

That afternoon, after gelato #4, we visited Santa Croce, where greats like Michaelangelo, Dante, and Machiavelli are buried. Sadly, so much restoration was being done inside that we didn't get to see everything we wanted. It was still gorgeous though.

After walking around a bit more and grabbing a dinner of BigMacs and beer at McDonald's, we finally boarded the train to head back to Dijon.

I'm sitting here in my room after week number two of classes and realizing that I have less than 7 weeks left in France. I can't hardly believe it. It literally astounds me. Where has my time gone? I remember being nervous about coming here, thinking how long 3 and half months sounded, which I think rounded out around 15 weeks. I thought 15 weeks sounded so long then...but here I am now thinking how short 7 weeks sounds.

My first 8 weeks here have been an unbelievable blessing, and if I learn even half as much about myself, life, and the Lord in the rest of my time here as I have already, I can only hope to imagine the kind of young woman I'll be when I return home.