Why I Cut My Hair Super Short

In November, I went from “normal,” almost boob-length blonde hair to a pixie cut. About a month later, I dyed that pixie cut brown. Then I had it cut shorter. Then I cut it again, this time leaving the bangs a little longer. Then I dyed it even darker. Most recently I had it cut really short, mainly just to extend the time before I have to drop a bunch of money getting it cut again. I even was feeling adventurous enough to throw some highlights in it this time. The end result is this:

Despite all of the minor changes I have made to my hair in the past few months though, most people only make one observation: it’s short. It’s really short.

When people see my short hair, they almost always find a way to ask me what possessed me to make such a drastic change. The question doesn’t bother me – I used to do the same, back in the days when I was fantasizing about cutting it all off and would meet girls who had already done so. But my answer to the question always throws people off a little bit. I didn’t do it because I was trying to defy gender roles. I didn’t do it because I wanted to look like a certain actress, or fit a certain mold. I cut my hair for really only one reason: because I felt like it.

I’d always thought short hair looked beautiful on women, but convinced myself that I could never pull it off with an athletic figure like mine. I had thought short hair was something designated for only really petite girls (think Emma Watson or Carrie Mulligan). I also almost always had boyfriends telling me not to. Though my rather flat, straight long hair wasn’t anything spectacular, and I never had anyone complimenting me on it, the thought of me cutting it off was apparently horrifying to most guys. My boyfriend told me he would feel like he was kissing a boy. Guy friends agreed that girls with short hair just “aren’t hot” or that even if they are, they’d look even better with long hair. All of these anti-short hair attitudes combined with the many men’s magazines and websites out there fighting for women to keep their hair long made a very strong case against cutting it short. I’m not entirely proud to say so, but I let my worries about what other people would think dictate what I did. Thus, though I had had the urge to cut it short since I was about sixteen, I kept it relatively long. After I finished high school, I cut off twelve inches, leaving me with a cute little bob. It was alright, but a lot of work, and I eventually grew it back. I dyed it a million different colours, tried different types of bangs, curled it, and braided it. But I never had the guts to actually take the plunge and cut it all off. The thought of being repulsive to guys was too scary. There were also plenty of girls who encouraged me not to do it, saying that I would look like “a mom” or less feminine. And, most importantly, I feared that I would hate my own reflection.

But then I moved to Europe, and all of my fears were thrown out the window. I’m not going to pretend it was European fashion that inspired me to do this – in fact, short hair is probably just as common here as it is in Canada. The change came not from my change of scenery, but from a change in me. For the first time in years, I was not in a serious relationship. I was not surrounded by people who had known me for years and only with long hair who would try and convince me not to do it. I decided I wanted my year abroad to be a year of learning about myself, and therefore decided that picking up guys and pleasing people from home would not be my priority. Instead, my priority would be doing what I wanted. And what I wanted to do was cut my hair.

It was quite incredible, but for probably one of the first times in my life I realized I literally did not care about what anyone else thought. I called up one of my least judgemental friends here in France who I knew would never try and change my mind and headed to the hairdresser with a picture in hand. When I showed it to the stylist, she seemed hesitant. She asked me several times if I was sure, and before making the first cut held the scissors inches from my hair and said, “I’m going to start, this is your last chance.” I told her to just get it over with. I felt zero emotional attachment to my hair, and watching it fall to the ground in 12 inch pieces did not faze me at all. When I walked out with about three inches of hair I felt incredible. It took a little bit of time to adjust to the weight difference, and of course I had to shower and style it myself before I was totally satisfied with it, just like any other time I had gotten my hair cut. But all in all I was happy. Not once did I look in the mirror and think, “Oh no, what have I done!” In fact, I would wake up and forget I’d done it, then feel the small amount left on my head and feel nothing but contentedness. It is something I have not regretted in the least.

I suppose part of my love for it could be due to the extreme flattery I received from almost every person in my life after I cut it. All of my girlfriends loved it, some of them even saying I had inspired them to cut their own hair shorter. My mother and sister agreed, despite the fact that my sister had told me it was a bad idea. Two of my closest childhood friends told me separately that even though they had only known me with long hair, they can now not imagine me with my hair any other way than it is now. When I posted a picture of it on Facebook I got a ton of feedback. Most of my guy friends just “liked” the photo, while all the girls commented saying how great it looked, and how glad they were that I finally went through with it.

But one may wonder, how did the males in my life really react to it? This is interesting, as if you run a simple Google search on “Short hair vs. Long hair on girls” you will be presented with pages and pages of articles explaining that men cannot stand short hair on a woman. And after all, though I didn’t cut my hair to repel guys, I cut it knowing that it may make me less attractive to some. However, I must say I was pleasantly surprised with the results. For the most part, I have gotten only positive feedback from the men in my life. I’m sure a few of them hate it, but they have respectfully kept these thoughts to themselves. Though my dad jokingly calls me a little boy, plenty of boys have told me that it looks just as good as my long hair. There are even a few males, including my often painfully honest roommate, who have told me I even look better with my hair cropped. My most recent ex told me he loved it, despite the fact that I had long hair when he met me. And the ex who was so against it, who had said he would feel like he was kissing a boy, saw a photo and in the least charming way possible told me he still finds me attractive. Not one person has tried to discreetly convince me to grow it out again. Not one person has questioned my gender because of it. I still take just as long to get ready, and cannot say I look any less feminine when I’m finally ready to go.

Though I cut it for a very simple reason, I am keeping it this way for some of the unexpected benefits that came with it. Not only do I feel more comfortable than ever in my own skin, but it makes me stand out from the crowd a little bit. When I had “normal” length hair, I was always frustrated by the fact that people I met would never remember me the second time I saw them. When I’d have to re-introduce myself to someone I’d feel like I was so boring and plain I couldn’t even be considered memorable. Now, everyone remembers me. I have been told that every time I’m brought up in a conversation with people that don’t know me very well, they still remember me enough to say, “Julia, the one with the short hair, right?” Though I don’t intend to be defined by my hair, it is nice to run into someone a second time and not have to re-introduce myself. I also find that a lot of people think that I’m older than I am, thus I am treated slightly differently. It’s not as if middle-aged women are bonding with me, but I have noticed that older people address me more respectfully than they once did. My short hair allows me to be more creative with the colour as well – I can get away with reds or dark browns that would have been way too harsh when I had long hair. And best of all, I save a ton of money on shampoo!

I will re-iterate once again that I cut my hair for myself, and not for boys. However, one of the last major benefits of cutting my hair short is how it has changed my interactions with the male species. It seems to me that since I cut my hair, I have gotten a lot more attention from guys. This could have something to do with the fact that before, I was usually in a relationship. Or maybe it’s just that European men are way more open-minded. But to be honest, I think it has more to do with the way I carry myself. Now, I feel like people notice me when I walk into a room. I make more of an effort to smile, mainly because I feel happy with the way I look. When I enter a party or bar, it seems there is always one guy who sees me right away and comes over to talk to me. I have two hypotheses about this phenomenon. The first is that guys assume that because I have short hair, I don’t get chatted up very often, thus they have a better chance. The second is that there is a select group of men out there who prefer really short hair, and since it is less common, they make a beeline for any woman they see with it before it’s too late. Both of these theories are probably wrong though. I’m beginning to realize that the guys who talk to me talk to me for the same reason they talk to any other girl – they find me attractive overall, not just because of my hair. Though I cannot deny, the length of my hair must send a certain message.When I was in Spain over winter holidays, a great American guy came over and started a deep, refreshingly stimulating conversation with me. He later told me that he came and talked to me because of my hair – he said that to him, my short hair screamed confidence, which suggested I would be a good conversationalist. I know it’s wrong to judge people based on their appearance…but in this case, I’ll take the compliment!

Basically, I’d like to conclude that short hair does not equal the end of the world. In fact, it can open up a whole new world of cool people, fun hair colours, and easy conversation starters. But when it really comes down to it, it doesn’t really make that much of a difference. It’s not like I lost or gained any friends because of it. My teachers suddenly aren’t handing me better or worse grades based on the length of my hair. I’m not getting bullied or harassed because of it. Really, nothing much changed except for the few benefits mentioned above. And funny enough, the guy I’m seeing now has never once mentioned it. When he asked me for my number, I can’t imagine it was because he thought I had such a great personality, he was willing to “get past” my hair – the night we met we danced together and chatted a bit, but in a noisy club a riveting conversation wasn’t really possible. I think I can safely say he asked me out because he was attracted to me…not just because of my supreme mastery of the French language and my undeniable charm (for those of you who do not know me well, I am kidding about these things).But now that we have been dating for a few months, I can guarantee that my hair is of very little importance to him. In fact, he has never mentioned it at all. I asked him once if he preferred short hair, and he said he really doesn’t have a preference – he just thinks I look great. And when it comes down to it, he’s right. It’s not about your haircut; it’s about how you feel. And as you can probably gather, I feel great.

The Pleasures of Getting Beat Up

I've never even seen this movie...but with my gloves on, I felt like a less jacked version of Hilary Swank.

As I mentioned in my last post, I’ve been having some knee issues again. I wish I could say that a month later the situation has improved, but unfortunately that is not the case. I have cut down on my running a little bit – instead of 45 minutes every day, I am doing 45 minutes just once a week, with about 30 minute runs every other day. I’m doing a lot of walking, and trying to avoid eating crap that will make me feel like I need to go run it off. But having bad knees does not mean my desire to push myself physically has just disappeared. Though I would love to do something else, I have kind of been stuck with running since indoor gyms are not really an option in France (they are rare, and the ones that do exist are way too expensive for a student) and it’s way too late to sign up for any organized sports. It is for this reason that when my crazy French boyfriend asked if I wanted to work out with him, I enthusiastically agreed. I wasn’t exactly sure what he had in mind, but since he said it was possible to do in bare feet and in his apartment, I assumed it had to be better than running.

First we started with skipping intervals: five minutes of jumping, two minutes rest then another five minutes. I forgot how tiring jumping rope can be, and was reminded after of my lack of coordination after nearly falling on my face three times. I ended up just passing on the skipping rope to him while I settled for jumping on the spot. After I was well warmed up and demanding he crack a window before I passed out, he had me on the floor doing push-ups. I pumped out a measly ten, which he seemed very impressed by. I was proud of myself too, until he dropped and did about thirty, with perfect form. This embarrassing defeat was followed by some anchored sit-ups (this means face-to-face with our ankles locked together) which he of course could do twice as fast as me. He finished off his death regime with a set of chin ups as he hung off the mezzanine in his apartment, while I flopped around on the floor attempting more push-ups. Overall, his warm-up left me sore and feeling like I had no physical strengths outside of my ability to long-distance run. And not only was he kicking my ass at everything, but he was doing it all with his perfectly sculpted arms, abs, and pecs…the things that on me are all hidden under a layer of womanly curves. Needless to say, I was feeling slightly resentful towards him.

This resentment ended up being extremely useful for the final activity however. From the closet he took out a bag of equipment for a sport I have never had the opportunity to try: kickboxing! After I had closed up the Velcro on my gloves, he taught me the basics: the proper stance, how to hold my hands, and where to keep my eyes. We agreed on no kicking since it was my first time, and I was assuming that he would go easy on me. However, after about a minute of fakes and little taps, out of nowhere he threw a blow straight to my nose. I was totally not expecting it. I had been under the impression that kickboxing was like dodgeball – generally, anything above the shoulders is out of bounds. I quickly discovered this was not the case though, and the next minute he got me in the side of the head. At this point I was fuming – not only was he a show off, but he just punched me in the head! All of a sudden I went nuts. I cannot say I was doing it completely correct, but I definitely got in a few good hits – including three or four to his noggin. I even slipped in some surprise hits to his sides that he was not prepared for. His encouraging phrase of “Bien!” every time I succeeded to hit him only made me want to do it more, so I did. I thoroughly enjoyed myself, though after about fifteen minutes I was done. I had no idea how tiring beating the crap out of someone could be, but I definitely think it is something that will require practice. Two days later, I am still sore from the workout that in total only lasted about 45 minutes. But it’s the good kind of sore…and personally, I feel it was a wonderful bonding experience. I would recommend (safely) boxing with your partner to anyone!

Just a Casual Saturday

Lately, my knees have really been bugging me. I could probably write a whole post detailing why I believe this is the case, and what I plan to do to make it better. However, I will save that for another day. I only bring this up to explain why instead of joining some friends for a five hour hike in the mountains yesterday, I instead chose to stay home and take it easy. Of course, sitting alone all day is not my favourite activity, so I decided to invite some of my other girlfriends over to mine for an afternoon of baking. And bake we did. The oven was on from 11:30 in the morning until 5 in the evening…not exactly environmentally friendly, but I can assure you there was something in there at all times. After we cooked some incredible Spanish omelettes for “brunch,” we moved on to cookies, cupcakes, and chocolate covered strawberries. The cupcakes and chocolate covered strawberries were our own inventions – we combined our knowledge and experience together to make the most delicious things possible. As for the chocolate chip cookies, I stuck to what has recently been my favourite recipe that you can check out here. Sugar overdose, anyone?

Beginning of the end (of my healthy diet, that is).

Chocolate chip cookies.

Maddy's gluten-free banana cupcakes, complete with homemade strawberry frosting.

My lovely lady friends...baking extraordinaires!

Lisa wasn't sure what to bring to the barbecue we were going to that evening...luckily we had bought a kilo of strawberries that morning, which inspired this!

Sorry, I’ve Been Too Busy Working Out…

Just a casual workout in the mountains...

I would like to apologize for my recent lack of posts. As soon as school started picking up again and the weather got a little nicer, I found myself having less of an excuse to sit in front of the computer when there are a million other things I could be doing. 

What are these “million other things,” you ask? Well, most of them are exercise/food related, as you can imagine. Like the beginning of my first semester in France, the first official month of second semester was filled with an unhealthy amount of late nights and bottles of wine. This time around though, I made sure to try and balance out all my partying with healthy lifestyle choices during the day. Though my new class schedule does not permit me to sleep as much as I should, I have been really focusing on eating fresh, non-processed, home-cooked food. I discovered a French cookbook my roommate left behind after he moved out, and have been relishing in the hundreds of incredible recipes it contains. This coming week, I plan to try out a few traditional French recipes, as well as give making my own pasta a shot – I’ll let you know how it goes! 

As well as keeping up my status as wannabe chef-extraordinaire, I’ve really made an effort with exercising. I told myself at the beginning of the year that by the end of my stay here, I would be able to run all the way to the top of La Bastille – a hiking path that goes up the side of a mountain to an old fort overlooking the city. At the beginning of the year, I could barely walk up to the top. However, recently I have been completing the hike between three and four times a week, and the other day I even half ran it! Unfortunately on my way down I rolled my ankle a bit, so I will have to wait a while before I give it another shot. But the fact that I made it up there without passing out, even on a super hot day (it’s been 20 degrees almost every day this week!) was extremely satisfying. 

I feel I could share many more stories of exercise success in the past few months, but I simply cannot resist the sunshine coming through my window right now – I must get out there and run.  But do not fret, my limited readership…I have big plans for baking and cooking this week, so in typical foodie fashion I will be sure to take lots of pictures to share with you! 

Advice for my 18-Year-Old Sister

Dear Jessica,

After we talked on Skype the other day and you mentioned how sometimes you just wish I was around to talk you through some tough times recently, I got to thinking about how much I wish the same thing. Though the convenience of Skype allows us to trick ourselves into thinking we keep in touch, listening to each other through a computer screen actually makes me feel completely out of touch. It’s so hard to focus on each other when our voices are cutting out, and we have other Internet pages open, and people texting us, and roommates making noise in the background. Sometimes, after I end a call with you, I find myself struggling to remember what we even talked about. I get so frustrated thinking that you need me and my advice, yet I can’t offer my best since we’re not having a face-to-face conversation.

That said, I also realize that our current relationship is reality. Over the next few years (at least) it’s not probable that we’ll be living in close proximity. We are too much alike to stick around the same place for long – we both wanted to go off to school and study our passions, and our affinity for travelling will probably keep us even farther apart in the future. We will both be off living our lives as we’ve always dreamed them, and I can’t wait. But that doesn’t mean I don’t miss the days when you were just down the hall and I could come and talk to you face-to-face whenever I wanted. When I have good news, or bad news, or just any news at all, you’re still always the first one I want to tell. And when I hear you are in a tough situation, I want more than anything to feel like I can tell you something that will make you feel better. Over the past month I have been travelling all over Europe, and have had a lot of time on trains and planes and automobiles to think about you. I have thought about all of the lessons I have learned in the past few years, and how much I want to teach you from my own experience. I know I am only 20 years old, and don’t know the half of it. I’ll be quite honest in saying I really don’t have much more figured out now than I did when I was 18. However, living abroad has made me look at things quite differently, and I think I can now offer a little bit of advice. So here it is, little sis: a list of all of the things I want you to keep in mind as you go out and explore this crazy, beautiful thing we call life.

1. Forgive. If I have learned anything from moving away from the town we grew up in, it’s that in a few years no one remembers all of the bullshit that went down in high school. You grow up, you move on, and people who hold grudges about things that happened ages ago end up looking really immature.
2. Study hard. It might seem redundant and overused, but I really, really mean it. Don’t see school as a stressful, useless, pain in the ass. Not only is education a privilege that we too often take for granted, but it is the key to everything you will ever dream of. Working hard in school will open so many doors for you.
3. Do NOT sweat the small stuff. This advice may seem bizarre coming from someone like me, who spent the first twenty years of my life having mental breakdowns over bad grades and angry bosses. But when it comes down to it, all of those deadlines and empty bank accounts will be forgotten in the future. Always tell yourself that in two weeks time, it won’t be a problem, and console yourself with this idea. Even if it might still be an issue in two weeks time, at least you haven’t wasted those two weeks of your life worried about it.
4. Laugh often. There is nothing worse than having a good, hard, real laugh that makes your cheeks and stomach hurt and thinking, “Wow, I haven’t laughed like that in ages.” Laugh like that every day. Fear peeing your pants from laughter at least once a week. If you feel like you can’t in your current surroundings, find people who make you laugh. Find websites that make you laugh. Watch television that makes you laugh. When you wake yourself up from laughing in your sleep, know you have reached where you need to be.
5. Don’t “feel fat.” Don’t “feel skinny” either. Feel healthy. Be healthy. Drink water, become addicted to it. Exercise at least three times a week – even if it’s just going for a 45 minute walk. Give your body a break from alcohol and crappy food. When you feel healthy, it shows.
6. Get as much sunshine as possible. If it’s freezing cold outside and the sun is shining, bundle up and get out there. Attempt to have those fantastic freckles of yours year-round. It’s incredible what the sun can do for your well-being.
7. Remember that your body is YOURS, and it is the only place you have to live. Treat it well. Respect yourself, do not do things to your body that you do not want to do.
8. Surround yourself with positive people. Sometimes it is very hard to cut negativity out of our lives, especially when it comes in the form of people. However, stick to your guns. Sometimes, they need to help themselves and there is nothing you can do but avoid them until they figure themselves out. In the meantime, find people who you want to spend time with. You should not spend too much of your life with those whose company you do not enjoy.
9. Love. Love fully and truly. Do not be afraid to put your whole heart into someone. Love is scary, and I know you may have reason to question its authenticity. But I promise you this Jess – it is so real. And it is amazing. It will change your life and change you as a person, but falling in love with someone who deserves your heart will change you for the better.
10. Hug people. When you greet them, when you say goodbye, or whenever you have the urge. I used to avoid hugs, as I thought they were slightly awkward and unnecessary. But a hug shows someone you care, brings you close to someone. Hug everyone you care about, because you never know when you may not have the chance to hug them again.
11. Sleep. Nine hours a night is not a luxury, it’s a necessity. If you are not a morning person, schedule your classes so you can stay up all night and sleep until noon. If you have to be up at the crack of dawn, do not stay up until 4 in the morning dicking around on the Internet like I always do.
12. Take pictures. And lots of them. With all the amazing things you are going to see in your life, sometimes memories won’t be enough.
13. Go dancing. I know you’re not technically of age in Canada yet (and you would NEVER use the I.D. of someone who looked a lot like you to get into bars before you were legal) but try to get out at least once a month with your girlfriends to get buckwild. You don’t even have to get drunk – as I’ve discovered, that’s really optional. Just get dolled up, find a place with great music, and wear high enough heels that you can kick away any guys who try and interrupt your girl’s night.
14. Do what you love. If you’re flunking your classes because you don’t enjoy what you’re learning, take different classes, or even a different degree. Changing your mind about what you want to do with the rest of your life might seem like it would be too much work right now, but in the long run it pays off to make sure you are putting everything into what you are doing.
15. Don’t worry about money too much. As a wise Scottish girl once told me – you can always make money later, but you can’t always make the memories you can make right now. Be young and do what you want – we’re all in debt anyway.
16. Travel. This one goes without saying, but before you can settle down and figure out a future, it helps to see the world so you can figure out yourself a little bit.
17. Cry. Not all the time. But when you need to, feel free. If no one’s home, throw a few dramatic sobs in there too. Sometimes we get so focused on trying to be strong we forget that part of getting through things is allowing ourselves to be weak. Allow yourself to be sad sometimes, then master the art of pulling yourself back together. You’ll feel better for it in the end.
18.  Be kind. You have always followed this, but as we grow older and have more opportunities to bitch at people who have seemingly wronged us, it gets easier to bring someone else down. Never forget how you felt when assholes yelled at you while you were working your crappy minimum-wage first job. Try and bring a smile to the face of everyone you pass, because you have NO idea what they might be dealing with.

And there you have it, 18 tidbits of advice for the 18 years I have known you. A lot of them are ones you’ve probably heard before, and as I read this over I realize that some of it is a little cliché. But I want you to know that it was life that inspired me to write this, not a Lululemon bag. I know that you will only go on to do great things, and I can’t wait to hear about them in the future – even if it has to be over Skype. You are an incredible person, and I am so proud of you. If ever you need a pick-me-up, see yourself through my eyes – a smart, beautiful, hilarious, and compassionate young woman who is the best friend I could ever ask for.

Dinner for One

The past four weeks have been a bit of a blur – after my Dad left France, I went to Barcelona for New Years, followed by a four-day break back in Grenoble before I spent two weeks travelling to Paris, Dublin, Galway, Edinburgh, and Glasgow. A major observation I made while travelling is this: it’s next to impossible to keep up a healthy routine when you’re jet-setting around Europe. Although I did tons of walking everywhere I went, I feel like my running muscles have forgotten how to work. However, I realized early enough in the game there is no use stressing about it. You’re only young once, and the opportunity to travel like this may not come again for a while. So instead of forcing myself to avoid junk food and wake up for a morning jog after late nights of partying, I found other ways to be healthy.

Spending time with my friends was practically enough in my opinion – I know that the amount of laughing and dancing we did together had to be good for my body. Seeing so many beautiful things was also good for the soul. I feel so relaxed and ready to take on a new semester now. I may have not been doing my body any favours while I stayed out too late and drank too much coffee the next day, but a January vacation did wonders for my mental health. One of the best things I did for myself during my travels was something I’d always wanted to do, but never found the opportunity for. A friend of mine back in Canada regularly goes out by herself to eat, but I’d always been too scared to go to a restaurant for dinner alone. What if someone I knew saw me? Wouldn’t I get bored? I always feel so bad for people I see eating alone, and I didn’t want to become that sad person. However, on my last day in Spain, I decided it was time to take the plunge.

Part one of my meal. I have no other description for all of these things beyond "deep-fried potatoey goodness."

Part two of the meal - bread with goat cheese and some kind of fish spread. I know, I lose foodie points for not actually figuring out what it was I was eating.

Part three. Sausage, chicken wings, artichokes, and cheese.

Success.

A much-deserved dessert. Custard.

Since my friends had all already left, I had the day to myself to explore Barcelona as I wanted to. Not only did I have a great time doing a very liberal, self-guided tour, but I told myself I would have dinner on my own and I looked forward to it all day. After my feet were sore from walking, I found a place that looked good which served tapas, a traditional Spanish meal. I went in there, asked for a table for one, and had a three course meal all by myself! It was absolutely excellent. I wasn’t bored at all. In fact, I could have stayed there all evening! I enjoyed that meal so much more than when I usually go out to eat, as I could just focus on what was in front of me. I nabbed a table beside the window as well so I could spend the time people-watching. I left the restaurant feeling full, and surprisingly very happy. Who would have known I could be such great company!

Christmas 2K11

So, Christmas was weird this year. Though my Dad came to France to visit me and we had a really nice time, it really wasn’t the same as being home. I spent a lot of time on Facebook getting irritated by everyone’s statuses about spending time with their families. Let’s hope next year I will be so busy seeing everyone I love I won’t even have time to check Facebook.

Breakfast on Christmas morning. Delicious, but indicative of the slightly unhealthy choices I made all week...

That said though, it really wasn’t terrible. Since the thought of anything other than a typical Christmas dinner totally depressed me, I decided I would take on the responsibility of cooking a full-out turkey meal for my Dad and I. It turns out they don’t do turkey in France, but instead cook up capons (dictionary definition: a castrated cock). We picked up one of these, some other necessary veggies and ingredients, and a Christmas log-cake for dessert. I then kind of haphazardly searched recipes on the Internet for each thing I wanted to make, and went to work.

The "chapon" (capon) covered in butter spread and stuffed with onion and lemons. You can see the recipe I used here.

Me in the kitchen...preparations started early in the afternoon!

My apartment's kitchen literally has zero counter space. I had to improvise with the top of the microwave.

Fresh broccoli...looked so healthy, until I covered it in eggs, cream and cheese!

My meal progressing. Front burner = garlic and cheese mashed potatoes, back burner = beginning of homemade cranberry sauce recipe. The covered pot is my roommate's cabbage rolls she made.

Capon a success! Super proud of myself.

I am extremely proud to say that everything turned out great. The capon was actually fantastic, cooked to the perfect temperature. I was kind of worried some things would get dried or burned since my oven here is really unpredictable and I was cooking smaller portions than most of the recipes were designed for, but my cook’s intuition told me what to do to avoid this. In fact, the only problem I had with the dinner is that I now have all the leftovers in my fridge, and cannot stop eating them!

Finished product! Capon, stuffing, homemade cranberry sauce, garlic and cheese mashed potatoes, broccoli and cheese casserole and a bottle of Merlot. Doesn't get much better, a mon avis!

Kiss the chef!

Buche de Noel. Delicious and adorable!

Luckily I was given the gift of running inspiration this year. My Dad spoiled me a little by letting me pick out a fancy new pair of running shoes. They are kind of obscenely bright, but so comfortable, and I cannot wait to get out running in them.

I'm obsessed.

How I Spent Day One of Lonely Holidays

Today was my first day in Grenoble without any of my friends, and only one of my three roommates remaining. I wrote a long, sad post when I woke up this morning, which you can check out here. Since that post however I have made some great progress and thought I would share what I consider to have been a rather successful day.

My super-trendy Kleenex box purchased after I realized my illness this morning. May also be necessary after romance marathon.

Unfortunately, I am sick AGAIN. I have had a cold once a month since I’ve been here. I know it’s from lack of sleep and too much wine, but it’s still very frustrating, especially when, except for a few weekends (which occur about once a month), I have been taking very good care of myself. This means that I haven’t been able to run for the past few days, which is a bit of a bummer. However, in lieu of exercising I have made sure to eat as healthy as possible in hopes I will be better in time for my dad’s arrival on Tuesday. I therefore started the day with a big glass of orange juice along with a healthy breakfast of kroast, The Laughing Cow cheese, tomatoes, and cucumber.

Healthy, simple, and delicious. A pretty typical breakfast for me.

Since I knew I needed to take it easy today, I decided to stick around the apartment. My other roommate and I had exams all last week and the kitchen had kind of become a shared study space (read: disgusting mess) that was more or less totally unmanageable. To make things worse, me and two friends cooked a HUGE stir-fry last night to celebrate being finished exams, which I hadn’t really gotten around to cleaning up before I went to bed last night. Needless to say, I spent this morning scrubbing, mopping, and doing laundry. I’m ashamed to say it was almost too much physical activity for me in my stuffy-nosed state, but I can breathe a lot easier knowing I can now cook without having to face a stinking stack of dishes or a table covered in crumbs.

We got a little out-of-control with the stir-fry portions.

I rewarded my cleaning with what I consider to be a typical French lunch that I find myself eating at least a couple times a week. The stereotypes are true – baguettes are the national symbol, so I feel the need to eat them regularly.  Today I had about a quarter of a baguette, a few slices of comté cheese, and a couple of baby pickles. I also ate the baguette with some chicken and duck pâté (that’s what’s in the little can on the side in the picture). I learned this combination from my French roommate, who can be found eating pâté and pickles for lunch all the time.

Mmm....Frenchness.

Lunch was followed by a long conversation with my only female roommate who I hardly ever see due to our different schedules. I forgot what it was like living with just a girl…without the guys here we could sit and talk about boyfriends, and makeup, and how sad we are to be missing Christmas with our families. It was really quite enjoyable, and when she discovered that I will have nothing to do for the next few days she asked if I wanted to look at “a few” French movies she has. Little did I know she has about a hundred DVDs stacked in her room. I sorted through them all, and without realizing it, chose all the corny romance movies she owns. Though my original plan had been to watch a Christmas movie while attempting to start an essay I have due in January, I think that my plans for tonight just changed. Nothing better than my favourite French chocolate (crème brulée flavour, literally nothing better), French Cosmo, and Gone With the Wind en Français.

How my day went from essay-ing to sappy romance/Cosmo-ing.

Life

This song kind of summarizes how I’m feeling about life right now. I know it doesn’t have any words, but anyone who has heard it probably gets the idea. I cannot wait to get out and run to it this afternoon.

WORK IT OUT

Good morning world!

I happened to wake up at noon again today, which means my “productive” day is now in shambles. I have got to stop staying up until all hours of the night talking to my friends back in Canada. Either way, after I finish my “breakfast” I hope to salvage the day by at least getting out for a run, even if it’s in the rain. I think part of my dedication to working out this past month has come from the amazing playlists I’ve been creating for myself with the help of 8tracks. Today, this song is my inspiration. I feel like it’s been out for a little while, and maybe you all have listened to it so many times it won’t motivate you. I however find that this remix and the increasing speed of the song really pumps me up. Happy running!