No, no...I'm Not Bitter

I feel like one of those people that quit 10 credits before they get their degree.

Yes, I am back in Seattle and not working remotely. The work that I am slated to do can't be done remotely and, frankly, I agree with them. They have a right. They thought that my position could be remote. They were wrong.

Without going into specifics, I need to manage new people, projects, conduct training(they want me to be PMI Trainer) and marketing events. The newness of these do not allow me to be remote. I tried. So I have to make a decision.

Do I stay at the job that allows me to have and remodel a house in France but not be able to be in France for, say, 9-10 months or do I quit and hope that they allow me to do something else? I can, however, try to go on my own but with half my paycheck(or less). The rational side is conflicting with years of goals made with the heart.

It's been weird, difficult and odd. I would like to get a job paid to me in Euro or Pounds, but it's difficult. Of course, I am young(ish) and France will always be there. Of course, my experience at my current position/company is great so leaving would be career suicide. And of course, my house in France can always wait.

It's times like these that I have to make a fork-in-the-road decision. One choice isn't more correct than the other. I know I can succeed at both, but which decision will afford me the most happiness? Which path will allow me to flourish my talents? Which path can help with me remodeling my house, allow me to live in France and work?

The upside of coming back was that my office was covered in tin foil - picture will follow soon.

(c) Photo copyright Function of Time: Paris France Luxembourg Gardens

A Fish Out of Water

I wish I could say I was busking in the walled city of Carcasonne.

I wish that I were bumming for change on the beaches of Narbonne.

Instead I was trapped under something heavy and it was made of stone.

It's been a few days since I've been able to click my fingers on a keyboard. Being without an internet connection isn't easy. Of course, I was able to get online briefly at my wonderful blogging friend's place Chez Loulou (She absolutely wonderful, btw. Loulou can-can, Loulou can-can cook), but having a high-speed connection at the place I was renting was needed. It didn't work at first, but finally I was able to work around the different variables. Et voila!

There are times that I forget I'm in France. For example, driving from Pezenas to my village I listened to the radio and found myself rocking to Queen. As I am singing Bohemian Rhapsody ("(Galileo) Galileo (Galileo) Galileo, Galileo figaro...I'm just a poor boy and nobody loves me. He's just a poor boy from a poor family...."), I shook myself back into reality as I passed the line of trees on either side of the road. "Whoa! You are in France," I said to myself.

It's hard to imagine. Coming here happened so fast. When I was on the plane, I didn't want to come. Perhaps I knew what was ahead or the strong emotion that I felt on the plane was just a memory of the last time I flew and what I had just lost. Perhaps all of these mixed emotions are normal and I am just an average person. Though I like to think myself as a person with a strong will and heart, I have been stripped away of that persona. It's in there, but put away.

I almost feel childlike. When I was a temporary traveler, it felt different. There was more fun; more good times and definitely not questions like where do put my house debris? (That answer is: la décheterrie) Now, I ask questions that sound so dumb.

It's not a lost cause. The long term traveler and expat can find support with the people around them and local organizations. For me, I know that someday I will be able to pay-it-forward and assist others coming to France. At least I'll have my personality back by that time.

Put it in Reverse, Dummy

It was an uneventful flight. I was bored, didn't sleep and wasn't hungry. The movie selection was less than stellar and I couldn't entertain myself with video games. This bored feeling was going to change, but not much.

After landing, I picked up my baggage, found the car rental counter and picked up my car. I could tell I was nervous; didn't want to get lost....no wait, it wasn't that. I had maps and a cell phone so I was good there. What was bothering me?! Oh yes, that's the ticket! I wasn't able to get the frickin' car in reverse.

OK, here we go:
1) Push in clutch with left foot. Check.
2) Look at gear shift stick with two eyes. Check.
3) Note the location of reverse with said eyes. Ditto.
4) Tell brain to move right arm, grab the stick shift. HHmmm.
5) Move stick to reverse....Uh, nothing.

Crap.

The Volkswagen Golf was new so this was definitely user error. What the bloody hell?! Thankfully, I didn't need to go backwards...yet. Off I go! Turn left. Turn Right. I consistently was looking at the road signs and back at my directions. (FYI: Google map directions from the airport to my destination was spot on!)

Not much to see from the freeway as far as "views". The exception was a construction zone. I almost ran into oncoming traffic because the man waving the flag to slow down was a dummy. Not a dummy in the way people lack intelligence cells, but it was a mannequin with an automated arm which moved up and down. He had the requisite orange vest and construction clothes too. In fact, at first glance I thought it was a human. I slowed down and started laughing. France 1, Colleen 0.

There was still this little matter of reversing the car. When I got to my destination I had to back up. What was wrong? I had more brain cells than the automated orange-clad construction worker, right?! I told my friend that I couldn't get the car in reverse. I forced and cursed at it to no avail.

"Push the stick shift down first, Colleen," she said.

...

France 2, Colleen 0.

(c) Photo copyright Function of Time. Friend's car, taken in Montanel, France.

Are Vacations Worth the Price?

For me to take a vacation requires planning skills not known to the normal human. Months in advance I have to look at my schedule to gauge when I'm going to inconvenience the flow of my projects and the people I work with. It is an uncomfortable situation.

There have been times when I could work around the clock. With teams of people working for me in all of the major times zones, my work life can be tricky. My job as a Program Manager is to keep my clients happy and my vendors finishing their work on time. This cycle of work flow filters through me and brings in stress and more emails than I can handle. More often times than not, vacations are more of an inconvenience than a welcomed break.

With time set aside and the proper people notified, it is time to prepare for a vacation - more hours are added to my long day. Even with proper planning, I have been known to check email whilst on "vacation". Not that I want to work when I'm scheduled for a break, but because returning from a holiday is so uncomfortable( hundreds of emails to go through)I try to ease the blow.

I'm not alone. Many of my fellow Americans either don't take vacation for years or are working during the time they are supposed to be on holiday. According to a survey done in 2007 by Expedia.com, "35% of employed U.S. adults report they don't use their vacation days." And with about 51% of American adults working more than 40 hours per week, we are definitely vacation deprived.

Tory Johnson from ABC News thinks says there are two reasons we don't take vacations: job security and stress. "Sixty-five percent of workers say they have trouble coping with stress before, during and after vacation. The fear of returning to a slew of messages and a massive to-do list is enough to keep some people from never leaving their offices. Others worry about job security. They fear if they're out of sight, they're also out of mind."

The stress, for me, has been a big factor for not taking a long holiday break, but not this time. I owe it to myself to slow down and reflect on what I'm about to do - remodel a 16th century house. I owe it to myself to reflect on my career and to find a passion inside that nurtures and reflects my talents. So I resolve NOT to work during my vacation, NOT to think about work and to consider deleting all emails when I return...maybe.

Just One of Those Days

(A break from the the Traveling Francophile...hhhmmm, not a bad nickname.)

We all have one of those kind of days when everything irritates - even the minutest of things.

Take, for example, words and phrases people use:

• "We was..." For heavens sake, when writing or talking please try to get singular and plural straight.


• "Warshington." Depending on where you are from, you will pronounce this differently. Nevertheless, there will never be a "R" in WAshington.


• "Musings or Rantings." I can't tell you how these two words famous in the blogosphere elicit such a negative reaction. Every time I read them, an angel dies.


• "Basically." When this word is used in front of a sentence, I tune out the rest. Basically, you shouldn't be traveling this time of year to such-and-such island because there was a hurricane.


• "The Daily Life of..." Another famous blog phrase. If I read one more 'the daily life' of something, I will...freak...out. If I come across 'the daily rants of a...blah blah,' well them's fightin' words and we'll have to step outside.

That's it (or enough) for now. Do you have a trigger word or phrase?

On to happy fun times....

Travel Bug, French Bug...Now I am Sick

The morning routine:

• Lay in fluffy bed for 30 minutes after radio alarm goes off at 06h30.


• Moan and stretch out over entire bed.


• Alone now, listening to dog snore. Start cursing.


• Get up, open curtains, get dressed, brush teeth, wake up dog, make coffee, turn on laptop, and curse some more.

My home office is still dark except for the glow of my dual monitors beckoning me to start working. At least I make the effort by opening my email. "Crap, 50 of them!" After sighing and sitting back in my chair wishing I could procrastinate one more day, I warm my hands with my coffee mug and start typing.

Do I start working? Nope. Do I go through my calendar for the day? Nada. Do I check my voicemail? Jamais! Instead, I look at airfare.

Woe is the person with the travel bug; someone with a propensity for wanderlust. It isn't just France I dream about; the world is a big place and I want to see it all.

The bad news is that the travel bug doesn't seem to wane over time. Sure France will become my home, but the world is a big place and the Internet doesn't make it easy for those who want to experience it first hand. In fact, the Internet fuels my desire and helps it grow.

First, I stop at AirFareWatchDog, enter my city name and look at the cheap international deals. Looks like a flight to Tokyo is $741 round trip. I've seen them cheaper. Next I go to Kayak to do a meta search. Should I buy tickets to various places now, later or hold off? This site isn't just a clever name, it shows you fare trends and when to buy tickets to certain places.

Though the previous two sites search the big names like Orbitz, Hotwire, and Expedia, I still go to each and tweak my searches to find special deals. I used to have a deep link to Orbitz(I could search international fares for the entire month and see the differences), but I can't seem to find this anymore. Wankers.

Next I check my free email account that is dedicated to travel related material. Per usual, I see many emails from the charlatans at Escape Artist and International Living. However, I still open my email from them and read a few articles from expats abroad trying to make a living writing for pennies.

My inbox is a virtual shrine for the person who needs to travel. There are newsletters and airfare deals from Expatica, AngloInfo, Rick Steves, Seattle Times Travel, Travel Deals, Mind My House, Budget Travel Magazine and Twiku to name a few.

Needlesstosay, this doesn't help my travel bug. By the time I finish my routine, it is time for another coffee, toast and real work. I have 80 emails now and the dog is snoring again.

The resolution after each virtual wanderlust session is that I want freedom even just for a short while. Freedom to travel, do, read, help or whatever. To live each moment as my desires move, to fluctuate with the flow of the land, the seasons. Freedom.

Just to be, reflect and capture a moment whether it be on paper, photo or in my mind if only for a moment.

My phone rings. It's my client. Must. Start. Work.

Picture from Eve Marks http://www.pivotalgalleries.com/eve_marks_pictures.htm

Train Travel: I Love You and I Hate You

Some people are clumsy-they spill their drinks and trip over carpets, others have a knack for stepping in dog poo, but I have bad luck taking trains while in Europe.

It started on my first vacation to France at the Gare de Lyon. I bought a TGV ticket to a city in the South of France. Listening carefully to the ticket agent, I took the stairs to the top level and found the large schedule board. My French at the time was borderline novice and I was by myself. I asked the center information booth if I was in the right area. I was, but somehow managed to get on the slow train instead of the TGV. What should have taken 3.5 hours took me 8 or 9.

While in the Netherlands, I wanted to take the train from Amsterdam to Maastrict. Unfortunately, I had to transfer. Yup, missed my connection - I forget why.

The train from major airports to nearest cities have been a catastrophe. I was tired, they were in a different language. I got on, went to a wrong area, got off, found my way back and did it right. Seems like I would pay attention the first time.

I don't know how this has befallen upon me. Did I wrong a train steward when I was 16? Does transporting make me crazy? Do I suffer from a fear of trains? Am I directionally challenged? Frankly, I can navigate a map like there is no tomorrow and my keen spacial ability can get me out of a directional snafu but train travel thwarted me for a long time.

That is until recently...

Knowing I have this deficiency with train travel, I plan this aspect of my travels thoroughly. The last trip to France I didn't have time to get lost so I bought train tickets online and had them sent to me via post. With ticket in hand, I could plan my every step through the Gare de Lyon, time my arrival and know where to get off. I purposefully chose a direct train to avoid any hastles. Et voila! No mess ups, no fusses, no issues. It was awesome.

Having made every mistake in the book I can boast about my new status. You have a question about train travel in Europe, I have your answer because I am the Train Know-it-all.

Over the years, the following has served me well. Mostly, of course, in France.

• Though more expensive, you can buy your ticket ahead of time and have it sent to you. Advance ticket sales: http://www.raileurope.com/us/index.htm


• Pay for you ticket at a kiosk, however have coins or a bankcard with a chip. http://www.transilien.com/web/site/accueil/guide-du-voyageur/info-pratiques/titre-de-transport/lang/en


• Taking the metro in Paris and want to know what the tickets look like?http://www.transilien.com/web/site/accueil/guide-du-voyageur/billets-abonnements/lang/en


• Schedules? For the whole of Europe, I've found a German website the best information for schedules. http://bahn.hafas.de/bin/query.exe/en


• Time? Don't forget to brush up on the 24-hour time system.


• Are you a first class traveler? Don't bother buying a first class ticket because both classes travel at the same speed.


• Don't assume the whole train goes to the same place. Look for your city on your train car and ask if you are confused.


• And finally the mother of all train travel sites: http://www.sncf.com/index.php?LANG=en_EN. This site has access point to all of the majors: TGV, RailEurope, TGVLyira, InterRail, Eurostar, TER, SeaFrance and Thalys to name a few.

Now taking the train is a lot more relaxing. I think I have risen above the train curse and can ride the rails in relative peace.

Oh Bloody Hell, Not Again

It never fails - every time I fly to France there is a strike. This time will be no different.

According to the Associated Press the strike will not affect Charles de Gaulle airport which is good news however, I get nervous because my trip is so short. I mean, I don't want to be stuck in France.

Wait...who said that?

----------------------------------------------------

PARIS — Paris air traffic controllers began a five-day strike on Monday,
causing flight delays and cancellations.

About half of flights at Orly airport were canceled, France's civil
aviation authority said, adding that only domestic flights were called off
entirely. International flights and trips to France's overseas territories went
ahead, albeit with delays of about one hour.

Travelers at Charles de Gaulle, the larger of the two Paris airports,
faced delays but no cancellations. Air France has a daily flight from Seattle to
the Charles de Gaulle airport in Paris.
The civil aviation authority asked
travelers to contact their airlines directly for flight information.

The CGT union, which plans to continue the strike through Friday, is
protesting a reorganization plan that would bring all of Paris' air traffic
controllers to work at a single site.

I Forgot to Mention the L.L. Bean Catalog

One of the drawbacks to being well read is that you never get to express yourself directly. Whatever you are feeling, you know somebody else has already said it better than you could. For example; every time I prepare for bed I try to relax my brain and let my mind wander. Usually I land on a subject that is profound enough to turn on the laptop and write.

After writing a few sentences to a page, I try to read and develop my thoughts into a blog entry, personal journal or a short story. “It’s all crap!” This is my first thought which leads me to my stalemate…the bedtime book and magazine.

It’s terrible how many I have positioned just so on the side of my bed, floor and extra bookcase. The list alone can conjure feeling of adventure, history and a bit-o smarty pants.

I am in the middle of all of them:

Bill Bryson, In a Sunburned Country
Alex Kasman, Reality Conditions – Short Mathematical Fiction
Saveur Magazine
Alistaire Horne, La Belle France A Short History
André Franquin, Marsupilami—L’or de Boavista
Bust Magazine
Bryan Peterson, Understanding Exposure
Travel Magazine
Wanderlust Magaine

Sometimes I look forward to reading something specific, other times I close my eyes and grab. Each one is an escape from my chaotic life. Saveur Magazine brings me closer to the food world whilst Bust Magazine entertains with ads, jokes and articles you’d never see in a fashion mag. Any Bill Bryson (He’s my HERO! Do you hear me Bill? Teach me your funny, I’ve lost mine!) book is the best before bed read and pick any travel magazine for short well written articles with colour pictures.

Although I have more serious reads to tackle before an unrestful sleep, these usually spark more debate and thought. This doesn’t bode well for an insomniac.

“Did you sleep well?” he always asks the next morning. “Well, I think so. I only woke once and it was for 30 min! “

One of these days I’ll say that I slept through the entire night without waking. Maybe it’s time to change the evening reading/writing routine and opt for music and a Xanax.

Moving to France: Chapter 1, Lesson 1, the Beginning

Why do I consider this day the beginning?

For the past several years—5 to be exact, I’ve considered moving to France. Though reading books and magazines, watching travel shows and hating Rick Steves was my favourite bedtime routine, it was only the prologue to what now marks a paradigm shift.

Today I transferred money to my lawyer in Paris.

When I called my bank to inquire about a wire transfer, I was under the impression that it would complete uneventfully. Alas, I was sadly mistaken.

It was as if the Red-Tape Goddess was welcoming me with open arms. She is going to be a busy wench, but I have my warrior ready and waiting to thwart thee.

So it all began with a phone call.

“I’d like to make a wire transfer to a bank in Paris please.” The operator asked me the usual identity questions, verified the transfer information and informed me of the wire fee. All I had to do was sign the fax. Crap. I didn’t have a personal fax number set up.

I inquired, “Can you please email me the document so I can sign it and fax it back to you?” Nope. There were privacy issues. My next suggestion was to have them fax it to the closest branch which was a small satellite office located in a grocery store. “Ok Colleen, your fax should be ready for you to sign in 45 minutes.” This seemed like a long time to prepare a fax.

I arrived 50 minutes later at the grocery store. “Can I see your ID?” But of course you can see my ID but make it snappy, my coffee and english muffin were getting cold in the car. “Do you have the transfer bank information you gave to the operator?”

As he asked me for information I already provided—and didn’t have with me, I sat down. “All I have with me is the account and BIC number. The other information I gave to the woman over the phone. She said my fax would be ready by this time.” He searched his computer for signs of my fax and asked me a plethora of questions I answered graciously.

After 15 minutes, my patience was waning. “Why isn’t it here, it’s just a fax?” I tried to be nice. “Well, ma’am I am sorry, but I cannot find any record of you calling or anything about a fax. Can I have a fax number and I’ll get this sent to you as soon as it shows up,” he smiled.

Though I loath being called ma’am, I almost got up and walked away. It was as if I was taking one for the team, I would be the nice patient customer. The Parisian lawyer would have to wait for the funds. C’est normal.

But wait, why would I do this? My fax and bank information had to be somewhere. He apologized again and said there was nothing he could do. I couldn’t ring the call center again because they see the same information. I was out of luck according to his plan.

“Well Bob,” I looked him in the eye, “I am going to sit here until I get and sign my fricking fax!” At this moment, I didn’t care I had work to do. I didn’t care about my coffee and english muffin. He sighed and made a phone call which, I swear, lasted 20 minutes. By this time, I had retrieved my coffee and english muffin out of the car and started my laptop to check work emails. VOILA! They found my fax. It was sent to another store I didn’t know existed.

They printed it. I signed it. It was done. That process took a little less than 2 minutes.

In the scope of life, this wasn’t a big deal. However, this beginning feels a little surreal. Each event steps me closer to a goal which has been in planning stage for too long. Like an actor who has studied and practiced their script and is ready for their final performance—I can say this…

“I’m ready for my close-up, Mr. De Mille.”

(c)Copyright Photos Function of Time

Because More Cowbell is Always a Good Idea

No time to post because I am here:

No time to comment, I'm as tired as a dog.

No time to read your wonderful blogs. I wish, I wish September 2008 were here!

(c) Pictures Copyright Colleen and Function of Time.

Hate and Envy

Thirty minutes later, I ached. I have never loathed one man so much before in my life. The disdain, nay hatred, runs deep and I curse under my breath every time I finish one of his shows. I watch them regularly.

I’ve seen the Dolomite's, Greek islands, Hadrian’s Wall and the beautiful Swiss city of Lucerne through his eyes. There’s also been mention of art history, tips, traveling back door secrets and tools to better improve your short American vacation. Oh, the abhorrence.

He’s a travel writer, a tour guide operator and guide book guru who has a TV show on all things European. Through my mortal antipathy, I somehow muster the strength to go to his free travel classes and buy his guide books. His headquarters are in a suburb of Seattle.

The staff in his office are unforgivingly knowledgeable. “What is the best time of year to go to Lyon?” I inquire. “How often does the TGV run from Paris to Beziers?” They are consistent with their answers and happy to dole out free information. I should try to trick them, but I suspect their response would come with a wink and a smile.

Leaving his store rooted in antipathy, I felt full - albeit a bit nauseated. There I can watch past travel shows on any European country he filmed, read from his big library of travel guides, talk to travel experts and buy a gallimaufry of travel items. The animosity fuels.

Then again, there is a fine line between hate and envy. Could I have just exited my Mecca?

Knowing full well that the moment after I closed the door to Rick Steves’ shop “Europe Through the Back Door” I knew that I would be back…many times. A difficult week might spur me to make the pilgrimage to the shop on Saturdays. It’s a religious experience for a person with wanderlust.

Of course a little dream scenario sparks in my head as I pull open the shop door. “COLLEEN! What will you be reading today? Can I get it for you?” They would yell as I entered and walked briskly toward the book section.

“I’m a gambling woman Mr. Steves. I’ll take whatever is in that library.”

"Looks like it’s a book on France, Colleen.” I push my lips together making the nodding motion.

“It’s my lucky day.”

I love Cheers flashbacks.

(c) Top Picture Copyright Colleen and Function of Time. Next picture: Lucerne, Switzerland freefoto.com

Moving to France: Let’s Move, So Now What?

“Deciding to go is half the battle.”

I hear this statement all the time. Clearly, the people who have said this haven’t gone through the ruby red tape called French bureaucracy, but neither have I—although I look fabulous in red.

How do I know about the perils that await us? There wasn't a course on “How an American can move to France” or “How to make a living abroad” nor was there sufficient information that pertains to me online or in any travel essays. I know, I’ve looked…for years!

Most of the information about moving to France is targeted for the British, those just out of college, or people who have married a French citizen. They don’t focus on American’s who are in their 30’s or 40’s, have a house, pets, student loans, stable though unwanted career, credit cards and vehicles. Where is information for me?! Obviously, I cannot be the only person in this situation who wants to fulfill a dream?

There are books such as “Living and Working in France” and "How to Work Your Way Around the World" which I bought and read. The information in the books were priceless, but not how to get a visa or a job. These books were for the British citizen who does not need a visa. Now they collect dust on my bookshelf. Bugger me.

Travel essays were a way for me to feed my wanderlust and gain information on how other American’s made the move to France. A few notables are “Paris to the Moon”, “Chasing Matisse”, “On Rue Tatin” and “Entre Nous”. All of these authors made the leap, but they didn’t tell me HOW. How did they get to stay in France for 5 or more years? American’s cannot just decide to live legally in France. Why isn’t there information out there?!

Perhaps I am not being fair. I have read websites that tell me exactly how to move to France. They cover the usual suspects which are not bad ideas, but I don’t want to mother someone else’s child, or teach horny French business men the latest corporate speak. Maybe they would be right for someone else so I will not discount them.

• Sign up for a teaching assistantship.
• Au Pair

Of course that isn’t the entire list of ways American’s can live in France. Here is an exhaustive list:

• Get a job with a French company who can get you a visa, but you cannot get the said job at the fabulous French company without a visa. It’s one of them catch-22’s or the nexus of the universe, your pick. Of course, you will not get the job at the fabulous French company unless they can prove that an EU citizen cannot fill it.
• Open a business. No thanks, I don’t need any more red tape or debt. I’m good.
• Marry an EU citizen. I can just see it, “Honey, I’m sorry I can’t marry you. You have the wrong passport.”
• Go there anyway without the job and hope for the best. Uh, I’m not 22.
• Go to back school. Yes, interesting. I like this one.
• Pick berries, grapes and be a bum. I’ve thought about this, but again..I’m not 22 nor do I have a trust fund.

Besides going back to school, the other options are undesirable.

Dwelling on this for years hasn’t helped, but I’ve found a common denominator! Most of the authors of the articles, books, websites, blogs have careers that are transportable. Looking at the four book samples above, they are journalists, artists, and food writers (the other one married a French man although she is a writer).

In my opinion, the best option for an American to go overseas (who needs to keep their job because of bills, etc.) is to try to convince your employer if you can remote work for a period of time. If you have a job that would not allow this and you must, like me, fulfill your dream of living in France, consider the above options or transition yourself to a career that can be remote.

As for me, I have a sneaking suspicion that I will not be able to convince my employer that remote working is a good idea which is no bother really. I have a cunning plan.

(c)Copyright Photos of Colleen and Function of Time

U.F.O.: UnFrenchy Friday Observed

(This is definitely not French and not cool.)

"I am going on a holiday vacation in April probably for two weeks."

"Oh really, where?"

"We were thinking about South America. Peru, maybe." I happily replied.

After a short pause she said, "Will you have an Internet connection there?"

This statement took me aback. It could mean two things. Does she wonder if the Internet(s) reach all the way to Peru or is she inquiring if I'll be working on my holiday? Giving her the benefit of doubt, I choose to believe she meant the latter and decided to investigate further.

"Yes, Peru does have the Internet. Why?" I didn't think fast enough otherwise I would have mentioned my deepest desire to live with the Peruvian tribes women weaving baskets and rugs or maybe run with the wolves.

"Because you should be checking in every other day in case we need you."

*Groan*

Moving to France (Part Un): The Career Plan

“The force to move to France is powerful with this one.”

I wish Yoda were here now.

Reflection is a big buzz kill. Once one starts the process, the rabbit hole gets steeper and dirtier. With reflection comes realization to decision then the awareness that your normal life is about to be up heaved.

Moving forward, as we all shall do, I must transition from a comfy life to a comfy French life. The transition doesn’t involve just me, but a host of players: Me, an old dog, a motorcycle and stuff—along with a list of issues we shall call bills.

But why is this high on my list of to-do’s? Since I was in my 20’s, I’ve wanted to live in a different country. Not because my life is bad here and not because I want to run away but, rather, I want the experience, the challenge. Maybe the move isn’t permanent but for a period of 2 to 5 years. Not a bad or inconceivable goal in my opinion.

I’ve done the pre-requisites: Studied French, visited many cities in France, and lived there for a short amount of time. Check.

To take this one step at a time, I need to figure out—first and foremost—how to make a living whilst there. So with this part un of the “moving to France” plan, here are my career (or not so much career) options:

1. In January, discuss with my manager if I can work remotely starting September 2008.
a. If yes, YIPPEE.
b. If no, go to option 2.

2. Do I really like my job/career? Not really. I abhor sitting in front of a monitor ALL day. Would I be OK long-term if they let me work located in France?
a. If yes, go back to option one and whine to boss.
b. If no, go to option 3.

3. So I’m not OK with my career, but it pays very well with great benefits, future. Can I live with it a few more years?

a. General whining. Go to option 4.

4. Change career to something I like. What do I like doing?

a. Writer: Food and travel.
i. No good at writing and haven’t had much practice. Go to “b”.

b. Cooking: Go to cooking school?
i. No, I don’t want to be a slave

c. Go back to University in France: I’ve dreamt about getting a PhD in philosophy of math and science. *insert nerd snort here*
i. To do the above, my language skill would need to be better

d. Study to be a translator

e. OR a combination of the above?

In reality, I honestly believe that I will not be able to work remotely. Changing my career and steady paycheck is freaky when EVERYONE tells you not too.

“Don’t quit this job. A company like this doesn’t come by very often.”

“Your career is going so well. You are paid well, can work from home occasionally, you work with great people. It would be dumb to quit. ”

Granted, those are true statements, but my heart isn’t into it. I feel so selfish to want to leave a great job.

Yoda?

There’s a Moral in Here Somewhere

I woke to Sammy barking like a madman at 8AM. Shot up, ran into the living room to find him sprawled on the wood floor.

“Crap! I have to get ready for work. It looks like ‘V’ already left.” It is unusual that I did not hear him leave. No matter. I continued with my usual morning routine.

“Wait a moment, it’s Saturday! Oh bloody hell!” Bugger me. (Note: British colloquialisms and expletives fly off my tongue like a Brit bloke at un match le foot.)

No bother, I was up. J’ai besion d’un café avec crème. The milk smelled a little funky, but I can’t have coffee without it and the store was so far away. I had to make do.

Maybe I could steam out the interesting aftertaste.

A few curse words and a trip to the grocery store for fresh milk proved to be the magic combo. Latte to the rescue!

I was in a pillow of warm yumminess (I love to make up words) thinking of how I will force convince my boss to allow me to work in France for 5 years, which city I will move (not Paris), how to get my dog there, etc when I saw this Newsweek article online.

The health section of Newsweek has a gallimaufry of obesity related articles. They reported on childhood obesity, a fat frame is the new normal frame and body image distortion rooted in our genes.

In this time of epidemic, why does it infuriate me so. With “2/3 of American women falling into the overweight or obese category” why can’t the media, center for disease control or whoever, advertise “REAL FOOD”. Though the French are getting fatter, they had it right for a time. It’s simple and yet so difficult.

Whew. Breathe 2, 3, 4…

It was time to go outside and take pictures. I was done with my (non-funky smelling) latte.

What's the moral for today? Don’t steam bad milk; it’ll ruin the Saturday feng shui.

LIVING IN THE PRESENT

(England - Derbyshire Peak District)

There are times when I say to myself, "I'm just tired"-- not physically but mentally. I'm tired of always moving forward, thinking of the future whilst negating the present. For years, I've been dreaming. Do all people do this?

It is another Sunday and I am doing research on travel and tourism. Though it is very exciting looking at graphs and learning about trends ( U.S. tourists travelling to the EU is up 4.5 percent this year over 2006 and France had 79 million visits last year), I am distracted from my research by pondering why I love to travel.

Why is it that traveling feeds me? When I am in a different country, I live in the present. It is by the moment that I take in life--nothing matters from earlier in the day. There is no mention of any problems, finances, worries, commuting, work or health(or lack of). Unless I am trying to decide on restaurant A or B, I am worry-free.

There are few times in my life when I have been contented with the "right now" aspect. But when I am travelling my angst is silenced. I feel beautiful, relaxed, happy and reflective when I am on the road.

(Tal, Gemma and Colleen Zip Lining in Costa Rica)

I want to learn and teach. I want to know how other people live and cook wonderful local dishes. Maybe I am stepping in a direction that suits me. A possible career that can show others my passion for traveling, history, life, food and the beauty of the world. Everyday(every moment) that I research, plan and read is time well spent--time that I live in the present.

My side thought:

We have lives that are filled with deadlines, meetings, promotions, traffic, bills, and a myriad of other day-to-day worries. Take a vacation, if you can, because it is worth the money to live in the present and forget--though maybe for only a week or two--the hundred's of emails that are waiting in your inbox when you return.

DISCOMFORT and BRAINSTORMING:

If you know me well, you know that I dislike my career(hate is probably more of a 'correct' term). Specifically, I dislike corporate culture and the elements of corporate America.

The good news is that I like my career area, Localization/Translation, but I need to tweak my job description. At the moment, I manage the localization projects and am working with people in the U.S., Europe, Japan and China. It sounds more glamorous than it is.

On a weekly basis, I dream. I went into this industry because of the international opportunities, but have found only empty promises. "Be patient," "It is a possibility in the future," and, upon my resignation from a previous Management position, "We were about to send you to Poland."

It's time to take things into my own hands. I need a plan.

But first, I need to decide my career fate by figuring out how to change my current situation--turning something bad to my advantage. How can I stay in this industry but still fulfill my career and life dreams? Let's figure this out logically (my logical brain is gets in the way a lot these days):

What are my current career goals?

• Freedom of location.
• Not sitting in front of a PC ALL day. (Some days I barely move anything but my mouse-click finger)
• Don't want to spend my life going to meetings everyday.
• Doing something I care and am passionate about.

What are my current dreams? Rather, what do I want to accomplish?

• Live in France for a period of 2-5 years, at least.
• Speak French at an advanced (native) level.
• Write a book.
• Specialize in something.
• Have a life I am proud of.

OK, easy enough. What are my career options to help me achieve my career and life goals? Let's see:

• Translation, writing, teaching, traveling, freelancing, etc.

Well, that's fine and dandy but I should look at specifics. The above are things I'd like to do, but I should refine this more. If I want the freedom, I should look into opening my own business--Maybe as a tour guide specializing in a certain part of France. HHmmm...

After a few days of brainstorming, here is a doable goal:

• Keep current career, but convince employer to let me work remotely. (I might have to become an Independent Contractor with less pay, but it would be worth it.)
• Keep practising French daily.
• Do research for opening up my own business as a tour guide based in Seattle but specializing in, say, the Rhone Alps region. (I can base a business in the U.S. but live in France. This would allow me to "work" for my own US company and live in a different country. By doing this, I would be able to get a long-stay visa for France or so says my immigration lawyer in Paris.)
• After getting the proper business licences, advertising will be the key.
• Study, study, study, study. To be a good Tour Guide, one has to be knowledgeable about their area.

I think I have a good plan. Now to manifest the 'idea' into a reality. Can I do it? I certainly will try. At least, it will be fun.

THE DOWNSIDE OF THE AUTOMATIC FLUSH TOILET

At my office, we have automatic flush toilets. They are wonderful if, say, you forget to flush on the way out. However, I suspect they are automatic for sanitary reasons--even though most of us use our foot to flush. (I've always prided myself on being able to go to a public toilet without touching anything, but this takes years of practise and a bit of talent.)

But I digress, the auto flush feature...

Now, I will always, always be leary of this feature. Will it forget to flush? Will the sensor not know when I walk away? Heaven forbid I walk out of the stall and it doesn't flush so the next person will...*gasp*...see.

The toilets I frequent during the day seem to have a late flush...sometimes. I will finish, buckle my pants, unlock the door and start walking out. Then, when I'm half-way to the sink, it flushes. In my opinion, way to late. To remedy this "problem", I've been manually flushing the toilet before exiting the stall. Problem solved? Nope.

It flushed a second time. *sigh* So much for saving water.

Another annoying thing about these "handy" (pardon the pun) toilets are when they flush prematurely. How can they do the same function at times which are so different? Besides the flush always happens whilst sitting.

With people inventing a gallimaufry of toilet features, please, I beg you, fix the sensor to go off at the same time for each sitting.

Maybe that's why building management includes a blow dryer in the bathroom.