St. Nicolas and Happiness

It has been quite a while since I last posted.  Time has flown by so quickly!  It's hard to believe that I've been here almost four months, but, then again, when I look at my journal and re-read my entries, I am always so supprised. "That happened only last week?  That was yesterday?" I say to myself.  My entire concept of time is so askew that if I didn't get out of school early Wednesdays, I doubt I would be able to figure out the day of the week.

I absoltely love my exchange.  I feel deeply sorry for anyone who didn't get lucky enough to go to Belgium.  It's the best country in the world, probably.  I love its green-ness, the bluffs in the south, the way the churches look in front of a grey sky.  It's December and there isn't snow, but that isn't a problem, because I have to walk to school.  I love that I can get on a train and litterally go anywhere in Europe (not saying I've done that).  I just love this place a lot.

Also, in Belgium, there is St. Nicolas Day, which is basically like an extra Christmas on the 6th of December.  Best holiday ever, and only a tiny bit racist (St. Nic has a black-face partner who definatly wouldn't be allowed in the USA.)  Basically, for the holiday, people just give you candy for the week leading up to it.  Not gonna lie, I'm going to miss it.

My French is getting better.  I hope, at least.  I understand nearly everything if I pay attention, and this morning, I woke up and realized that my dream had been entirely in French.  Granted, when I speak, I still make lots of erreurs, but it's getting better.  It's no longer difficult to talk and write.  Okay, that's a lie.  Talking and writing are still hard, but I no longer feel like curling up in a ball and crying when I have to do it. 

And I have friends.  I have friends who love me, and friends that I love more than I ever thought I could platonically love somebody.  Sure, I'm not best buddies with everyone, not even all the exchange students, but the friends I do have will be my friends for life, or I will cry buckets of salty, beer scented tears and go broke from calling their international numbers all the time. 

Recieved my first package from home.  It was from my Oma, who's cool.  I couldn't wait until Christmas to open it.  Thanks, Oma!

So, exchange may be going fabulously, and things are getting easier, but I still have an unerring tendancy to make embarassing mistakes in front of cute boys.  For exaple, today I managed to go to the wrong final.  Case and point.  Good thing I don't have to worry about grades this year.

If you love me and/or are related to me, please send money.  I am broke. 

Bisous!

Greta ;)