It's Me, Sara Louise

It’s Me, Sara Louise

Hi! You might know me as C’est Moi, Sara Louise. Before that I was Sara in Le Petit Village. Now, It’s Me, Sara Louise. Hello again.

  • Behind the Photos XVI

    This edition of Behind the Photos could pretty much be called, Fifty: Behind the Photos. For some bizarre reason, just about every photo I took in the early months of 2011 featured Fifty. I guess that’s all that was happening in Le Petit Village at the time… F I F T Y. (What can I say, winters in The LPV were notoriously boring.)

    One of Fifty’s favorite things is to be picked up and cuddled like a baby and luckily for him, Gregory likes to indulge him. Fifty has no concept of his size, in his mind, he’s just a rough and tumble Chihuahua. 
    One can start to go a bit stir crazy when living on top of a small, snow covered mountain in the middle of nowhere and that stir craziness can result in some pretty ridiculous behavior, like making your dog wear socks, you know, for giggles. This was not one of Fifty’s favorites. 
    Another fun way to pass the time when there is NOTHING happening… pillow fights with your dog. Fifty may be feisty but due to his lack of opposable thumbs, I usually win. This particular pillow fight was in our bedroom in the second house we lived in in The LPV. The room was basically the size of a queen bed, that’s it. There was like a foot of space on the left hand side of the bed, while the other side was pushed up against the wall. When I got into bed at night, I would just throw myself on top of it and  in the mornings, wiggle out of it. It was pretty ridiculous for a room, but for things like pillow fights, it was awesome, because it was kind of like a wrestling ring since the room was all mattress. God I was happy to move out of that place. 

    Aw, Vicky, a face only a mother could love… Fifty’s friend, Vicky, used to come over everyday (may she rest in peace, sweet, sweet girl) for a treat or to play. She’d just show up at the front door and they’d stare at each other through the glass. If I didn’t open the door fast enough, Vicky would try and open it herself. As long as it was unlocked, she could, and either she’d come in, or Fifty would run out. But if it was locked, Fifty would give me the saddest puppy dog eyes until I opened it. Like I could ever say no to that face.
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  • Sara Louise v. Pizza

    Have you ever seen Man v. Food? It’s like a travel-food show where this guy eats his way across the U.S. He’s a little nutty, but very entertaining. He ate a 42 inch pizza once. That’s right, 42 inches, and he ate it right here in San Antonio (I say ‘right here’ because I’m just a hop, skip and a jump away from San Antonio).

    Naturally, Gregory, whose number one hobby is eating, wasn’t going to live down the road from a pizza so large it was on Man v. Food without seeing it (RE: EATING IT) for himself, so when the Irish boys were with us, we took a trip to the eastside of town for dinner. Actually, we took two trips… the first time we went was on a Sunday night, and there was a two hour wait for a table. Clearly, everyone wants to eat the biggest pizza in Texas but I don’t wait for two hours for anything (patience is not one of my virtues) so we arrived early the following Wednesday and got seated right away.

    Not wanting to be total gluttons, we opted for the 37 inch instead of the 42, which was still plenty even though Gregory did manage to eat a whole seven slices of the jumbo pie. Me, I managed a paltry two. (Note To Self: next time skip the salad and go straight for the pie.) 


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  • Full Circle {review + giveaway}

    It’s summertime! Unless you’re in the southern hemisphere of course, in that case, it’s wintertime! Either way, it’s always a good time for a good book and do I have one for you! 
    Julie Tulba has written a fantastically fun book of short stories full of traveling tales entitled, Full Circle. Each story is a swift and enjoyable read with a different character, in a different, exotic location. In Full Circle, Julie takes you around the world to places like Paris, Buenos Aires, London, and Lisbon. 
    Reading Full Circle is like an all around the world vacation, minus the credit card debt and I hope you’re ready to take the trip because Julie is giving away a copy of her book to one of you lucky ducks! So if you’re ready to cozy up on your couch for a virtual journey, then enter to win below… passport not required. Bon voyage!  
    a Rafflecopter giveaway

  • yippie-ki-yay

    // Gregory and I saw Honey Jr and Honey’s Honey’s doppelgangers walking down the street in my small, Texas town; same hairstyles, same clothing style, and the same petite size… we almost asked them to join us for an apéro, but that would have been weird.

    // I don’t think I told y’all about Gregory and the baby fox… At the end of last summer, we were returning from dinner and a light show in Avignon. It was after midnight as we drove into the forest outside Le Petit Village, when suddenly, Gregory slammed on the breaks. There was a baby fox in the middle of the road in danger of becoming a snake’s dinner. Gregory promptly hopped out of the car and shooed the fox off to the side of the road. He then got back into the car and proceeded to drive over the snake; back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, until we assured him that the baby fox was safe from the flattened snake. Gregory then got back out of the car and started cooing at the fox that was still sitting on the side of the road. He would have taken that thing home with him if he could’ve but then he could have ended up like this guy.

    // My mother and Gregory have taken to playing cards together every afternoon, sometimes it’s cute, sometimes it sounds like there is going to be a domestic. She’s going to miss him when he’s gone.

    // There’s only seventeen days and counting until Gregory has to go back to France… so that blows.

    // When I moved back to the States from France, jet lag got hold of me something fierce, and for a few weeks, me and sleep were BFFs. I’d go to bed by 8PM just about every night, and on one Saturday, at 6:30PM, I stretched and yawned and declared that it was time for me to call it a night. My mother told me that I couldn’t possibly go to bed because it wasn’t even seven o’clock yet. But then I said that it was DST later that night, so technically it was 7:30, so off to bed I went. I’m such a party animal.

    // Gregory and I watched Freaks & Geeks a couple of weeks ago (his first time, my bazillionth). I will be eternally bummed that there wasn’t a second season or even a tenth for that matter. But thanks to the glorious internet, I can relive the glory that is Freaks & Geeks whenever the mood strikes me… like now. Enjoy.

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  • 7 0 0

    Say what now?! Seven hundred posts as of this one right here! I can hardly believe it. When I started this blog a week after moving to France, I didn’t know what to expect and I had zero idea how long I would be typing away for. It turns out the answer to that is four and a half years and seven hundred posts and counting. Whew!

    So in honor of the seven hundred posts that I tip-tapped away, here’s a round-up of some of my favorite posts from the past for your perusing pleasure. I hope you enjoy them.

    A big, huge, gargantuan thank you to all of you! 
    Thank you for your kindness, your support, and your friendship. 
    Without you I would be here typing away to myself, 
    which is kind of like talking to yourself, but a little less crazy like.  

  • my miraculous moving miracle

    Gather around children as I tell you the story of a miraculous thing; a miraculous thing that happened just when I needed it most…

    It was the morning of Tuesday,  the fourth of March, and I was flying out of Paris and leaving my life in France behind. I was tired and stressed and sad, so very sad. I had said goodbye to Gregory the day before and it had already been four days since I had seen Fifty. While I knew I’d see them in a month’s time, I didn’t know when I’d see The Londons, Honey Jr, Honey’s Honey, Child Bride or La Petite again.

    I was feeling mighty down and the unknown was waiting for me a couple of long flights away. I was nervous, and exhausted, because come on, we all know how sucky moving is, let alone an international one. I hadn’t slept properly for weeks and all I desperately wanted was to get the flights over with, and get to my mother’s house in Texas (to be completely honest, all I really wanted at that point was to go back in time to decide not to move back to the U.S. and blink and be back in Le Petit Village like none of the whole moving malarky had ever even happened).

    So yeah, Sara Louise was not a happy bunny, and most definitely not looking forward to being sad on a long journey. And that’s when it happened; when the most wonderful thing that could happen, happened… I got upgraded.  Sure I’d still be sad, but at least I’d be comfy and sad (comfiness makes all the difference really).

    This may not be the best picture, but it’s leg room, sweet, glorious leg room, the most valuable commodity at 35,000 feet. I was quite comfortable and very happy… sadness forgotten! All I had to do was sit there and relax while nice ladies brought me wine and food. I watched a Downton Abby marathon and made my own sundae. There was no packing, no important decisions to make or forms to fill out, no somber goodbyes or sadness.

    It was pure bliss and I didn’t want it to end. I was on the verge of having my address forwarded to Sara Louise, seat 4c, somewhere over the Atlantic, because as far as I was concerned, I had found my new home. So naturally I was less than pleased when we landed in Washington D.C… time to move again.

    I trudged across Dulles, pouty and sullen, dreading the four hour flight to San Antonio on the tiny express jet. Sad, Sara Louise had returned. And that’s when the second miracle occurred. I didn’t make my flight (this was during all of that horrible cold weather stuff that messed up the East Coast airports). That’s right, I didn’t make my flight and I was happy about it!

    Normally getting stuck someplace while traveling is a nightmare of epic proportions but on that evening, I looked at it as a blessing, because being stuck in D.C. meant a hotel room, a shower, a bed, and room service. And of course, some more time off of the moving grid. Reality wasn’t real as long as I stayed somewhere between my start and end points.. no pesky and stressful decisions to be made.

    I checked into the Marriot, put on my jammies, ordered the most American food I could think of (buffalo tenders and a BLT) and watched The CW. The Originals was on and I wanted to see what that rascal Klaus had been up to. And for the first time in weeks and weeks, I slept. No to-do lists or packing worries running through my brain, just pure sleep. Hallelujah.

    And the next day I arrived at the airport bright as a button, hopped on my plane, and made it to San Antonio just in time for lunch. Hello tacos. The end.

  • pretend this is a vlog

    I have failed you my friends, failed you, failed you, failed you.

    I am having some technical problems over here with both my imovie and my iphone and I’m unable to give you the vlog I promised. In my meek attempt to make it up to you, please accept the following answers to your questions from Gregory. They’re not vlogged, but they are verbatim (and if you wanted, you could watch his last vlog so you know what he would sound like if this was indeed a vlog).

    Maria: Will Gregory work in Boston? Which language do you guys use to communicate?
    Gregory: Yes, when I can work, I will work. We speak in English because it is the most natural for us because we met in English. 

    NotesFromAbroad: How long did it take for you to think you might want to stay in the US, Or did you decide you might want to go back to France?
    Gregory: One month, that’s it. No, I don’t want to go back to France, but I miss my friends. I think it’s normal. 

    Donna Baker: What is your favorite American food?
    Gregory: Fried catfish or oysters, fried oysters.    

    Wine and Cork: J’ai toujours été très curieuse de savoir ce que Gregory faisait dans la vie en Provence, et ce qu’il espère pouvoir faire une fois installé dans le Massachusett. 
    Gregory: Je travaillais en securité sur Monaco et Cannes la plupart du temps pour differentes personnes ou des festivals.
    Et pour le Massachusett je suis entrain de passer mon diplome de coach sportif.

    Laoch of Chicago: What does he think of American Pizza?
    Gregory: Uh, is good but I prefer the French one if you ask me to choose between the two. 

    Holly Nelson: How are you enjoying the States? How can I get my boyfriend to return to my home country with me?!?!
    Gregory: Oh, I love America, but it’s weird because I miss my friends. The food is good, the music, the people the car. Tell him if he likes drinking, partying and rugby, then he’ll like England, and he’ll be close to France and the rest of Europe for travel. 


    Shannon: What are his thoughts on le football americain?
    Gregory: I don’t like it. It‘s too slow, too many breaks. 

    Miss B: I’m curious about what Gregory thinks about American food. Does he miss all those amazing French cheeses and the inexpensive wine?
    Gregory: Yeah, I miss the cheeses, I’m not a big wine drinker, but cheeses definitely. American food is good actually, it’s not just burgers.
    Sara Louise: I miss the inexpensive wine. I miss it so much it hurts. 

    Tricia: Does it worry you thinking about the amount of poisonous snakes they have in Texas & having to really watch where you walk in the countryside? Also, how are you finding the portion sizes in the restaurants.  What DID Gregory do at The Penthouse Club? Don’t hold back – tell us all. 
    Gregory: Yeah I’m freaked out. All the time I walk on the grass I look. And I’m really scared for the dog. The portion sizes are big but I love it because I eat a lot and for the price it’s really good stuff. I worked at security before at the Penthouse Club, but before it was called the Hustler Club. 

    Megan Nicole: How does he feel speaking/hearing English all the time now? Even though my husband speaks English very well also, it was a bit of sensory overload for him at first. How does Gregory feel about it?
    Gregory: I think it’s fine. When I hear French for me, it’s weird now, because I get used to English.

    Enna-Ojs: What surprises him the most about Americans? What does he like the most about living in the U.S.? What does he find the most annoying?
    Gregory: How people are friendly and really helpful. Oh, the convenience of things, like customer service and how easy it is like when you go to the bank and stuff. Politics are the most annoying, like the bad political ads on TV and stuff. 

    Amanda: What do you think about American sports – football, baseball and of course…hockey? And have you become addicted to fast food yet? If so, which one?
    Gregory: Hockey, I love it, but football I don’t. Baseball I don’t understand the rule. Hockey I love because it’s fast and the contact. I always be addicted to fast food even before in France. Last year in England with Bumder we do three different fast food for midday, Taco Bell, Burger King and KFC. My favorite in America is Burger King and Sonic.  


    Kaley: As an American with a foreign husband myself, I want to know how he’s adjusting to the American lifestyle and what he misses. How he deals with missing home. If he ever thought he’d be so far from home. 
    Gregory: No I never think I be so far from home. I’m adjusting pretty good I think. What’s a big change for me is the work ethic and I don’t know, I miss my friends, but otherwise I’m OK. 

    Fat Dormouse: Do you think that Gregory will make a better or worse ex-pat than you? And does Gregory think he will make a better/worse one? And why..?! And what does he think he’ll miss most about his homeland?
    Gregory: I’m better because I talk to everybody.

    Sara Louise: It’s hard to say, but I think that it might be easier for Gregory because where we live in the US is not nearly as isolated as Le Petit Village was, and he had already met some of my American friends before coming over. But we’ll see… P.S Gregory talks to everybody because he doesn’t believe in ‘stranger danger’. 

    Puppyfur: How did Gregory find leaving Fifty to board separately at the airport? Does he have a plan for work in MA? How is he adjusting to the sheer size of Texas, never mind the US, so far? Finally, what is his biggest “must-do” in the US?
    Gregory: Oh, I was really stressed. I even asked the Captain of the plane to see if he was on board and stuff. 
    Yes, in Massachusetts, I will be a personal trainer.
    I would like to explore the US; Manhattan, Statue of Liberty, Gold State Bridge and the place with the four face of president.  

    Mademoisella Coquine and Betsy: How does it feel reversing roles with Sara Louise being the native and now you the expatriate? I’d love to know!
    Gregory: It make me understand lot of thing and lot of situation before. I understand more now what it was like. 
    Sara Louise: Hmmm… interesting. 

    Sara: What did he do in LPV besides eat and bbq? Did he have a job or did he save all his rugby money so he’d never have to work again? What are his plans for the US? Is he going to learn to cook and be a househusband?
    Gregory: Drink. No, I joke. I traveled a lot for security work. I’m training to be a personal trainer.  

    Fit With Flash: Will he be accompanying you on our blate at the end of June when I come to Texas?!
    Gregory:  Of course! 

    Den Nation: How did Gregory ever manage to tear himself away from his Bumder and move so far away? Is there a US Bumder on the horizon?
    Gregory:I don’t manage it actually. There is a hole in my heart that can never be filled. In a joking way, but no, I miss him. Nope, no US Bumder. Bumder is Bumder. 

    Well that’s that. I hope you enjoyed this not-a-vlog. If anyone needs me, I’ll be flailing myself in penance.

  • dimanche

    Before moving to the States, I promised an anxious Gregory that there would be Sundays, French Sundays. French Sundays are wonderful things, especially in Provence. In Provence, French Sundays are greeted with the brightest of blue skies and a shining sun. Apéro is had before settling in for a long lunch and a lazy afternoon.
    Gregory would miss French Sundays. Of course he would, I would too, anyone would. So I promised Gregory that even in America, we would still have French Sundays. Apéro might not kick off at exactly midday, and there may not always be Rosé and Ricard, but I’d do my best to make it happen. 
    For the past few Sundays, I’ve managed to keep the homesickness at bay with a bit of French tradition in Texas. At times it’s a bit haphazard, but it’s been getting the job done.  
    A taste of the Mediterranean in a bowl and some chips and salsa because hello… we’re in Texas y’all. The Rosé was replaced by white (I’m crying on the inside) which paired perfectly with the Schnitzel à la Holstein I made (which I thought was appropriate living in a German-American town like I do).  
    {chasing squirrels is exhausting}
    In typical Provençal fashion, lunch was followed by a sieste, which afterwards we were awoken from in typical Fifty fashion… with kisses! And I was having such a wonderful time relaxing on my French Sunday that you’re now reading this post instead of watching a vlog of Gregory that I should have recorded. Forgive me please, but a whole day spent doing this, was just too good to pass up. A thousand pardons.  
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  • on the bright side

    Hi everyone! (Saying ‘bonjour tout le monde’ doesn’t seem right anymore since I’m not in France… but you know what, scr*w it, I like saying it. Let’s start over.)

    Bonjour tout le monde! Here we are, another Friday, another month almost gone. It’s frightening how fast it goes by, isn’t it? Yesterday marked the two month mark since Gregory’s arrival (and my three month will be next week…eek!), which means we only have one month left until Gregory’s three month visa is up. Yep, at the end of June, Gregory will be returning to France. But have no fear, he won’t be there too long as the Green Card process is swimming right along. Plus, he’ll be reunited with Mr. London, his faithful Bumder, so we won’t be too sad for him.

    I had planned on posting Gregory’s vlog today, answering all of your questions, but we had some technical difficulties so that’s on hold for a couple of days, but on the bright side, if you thought of anything else you’d like to ask Gregory, you still have a chance.

    Let’s see… what else is happening… after a couple of weeks of really meek weather here (like grey skies, thunderstorms and rain), the sun has finally returned. Well, it’s returned for the time being anyway, it’s supposed to rain again over the weekend. That’s fine, heaven knows Texas needs it. And rain means going to the cinema and being lazy on the couch. Bonus of being lazy on the couch, I get to curl up with my current read, Galway Bay. It’s a goody.

    So let me ask you my friends, what do you have planned for this fine weekend, and what are you reading? I’m feeling nosy, indulge me please. MUAH!

  • it was pretty much the happiest of days

    On that happy day (last Saturday the 24th), I donned my Toulon rugby jersey. Normally, I don’t wear sports jerseys, but this was a special day… Mr. London was competing in his second Heineken Cup Final and since I couldn’t be there like last year, I wanted to lend my support, even if I was 4900 miles away.

    I had found a bar out in the sticks that would show the match for us. They ordered the channel and gave us our own little cabin to watch it in (which I was informed is in the process of being turned into a wine bar/room/cabin/whatever… obviously I’ll be back) and my friend, Amy, and her South African husband joined us. Since half of the Toulon team happens to be South African, and South Africans happen to like rugby, I thought he’d like to watch. Of course he did, and he even brought their son, who came in a mini Springbok t-shirt (a rugby t-shirt, shorts, and cowboy boots is a freaking adorable look).

    We settled in, ordered some beers and cheered on Mr. London. He must have heard us, because they won. And then if that was a happy enough occasion, he was named Man of the Match. I thought Gregory was going to break down and cry right there, it was the sweetest thing, but he held himself together and we carried on with our happy day moving on to The Farm.

    The Farm is Amy’s family’s place; acres upon acres of Texas Hill Country treasure, hidden deep in the outskirts of our town. It’s where we’ve always gone to escape, recharge, get into trouble… it’s magic, one of those places where you can just breathe. 
    In anticipation of Mr. London’s victory, I had bought a bottle of Rosé from the Var, right around Toulon way (sipping it made me feel closer to Mrs. London). So now I had three things to be happy about; Mr. London kicking Saracen booty resulting in Gregory being as chipper as a unicorn riding a rainbow, I was at The Farm, AND I was sipping delicious Rosé. BAM-BAM-BOOM. (Just typing this trifecta of delight gives me the feel goods).

    We took the jeep out for a spin to see what critters we could find (and so Gregory could do donuts and attempt to fling me from the vehicle… payback has been swift and ferocious) and we came across this handsome fellow…

    Because sipping Rosé and hanging out with longhorns can work up quite the appetite, we set off back to the bar where we had watched the match because they had food trucks… FOOD TRUCKS. Sure Le Petit Village has a pizza truck, but it doesn’t have trucks, as in more than one, and they certainly don’t have a Tex-Mex food truck which is the one I moseyed up to (three months back in Texas and I still can’t get enough tacos).

    Fueled by bottle upon bottle of Rosé, the happy good times at the happy farm just kept on coming (including a canoe ride that made me feel just like Huckleberry Finn), and I was having so much fun being happy, that I stayed up until 3AM because clearly, I think I’m some kind of young whippersnapper. NEWSFLASH: I’m not.

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