Vive la France!

It’s official, I LOVE France. Absolutely love it. I’ve only been here for two weeks and I’ve already decided that I never want to go home. In my short time here, my expectations and hopes for my European adventure have already been surpassed. I came expecting to be uncomfortable and feel like the outsider for at least the first couple of months. And while this worried me a little bit (ok fine, it terrified me. I would have panic attacks if I saw a baguette at the grocery store and would literally lay in bed at night and cry at the thought of leaving my comfort zone), I still decided that the experiences that I would have, the people I would meet and the places I would get to see would make the feelings of being the “new kid at school” and not having any friends worth it. But my fears were completely in vain! From the moment I stepped off the plane, I have felt more welcome and wanted than I ever have before. And yes, I realize that I probably sound ridiculous and corny right now but it’s so true! I’ve been in France for 14 days and I can’t imagine ever leaving. Perhaps I’m still in the honeymoon phase and reality hasn’t set completely in yet, but for once in my life I’m going to see the glass as being half full instead of half empty. I’m going to be optimistic and say that even if reality hasn’t hit me yet, when it finally does things will only get better. I’m confident that this unpractical yet wonderful 7 month long vacation will change me for the better.

For those of you who have no idea what I’m talking about and are wondering why I’ve put my life on hold for 7 months to come a live in a country I know next to nothing about, I’ll rewind a bit and explain. Eight months ago I was between a rock and a hard place. Due to budget cuts and the university having to restrict admissions of transfer students, I was denied acceptance from Sacramento State. Not only was this extremely humiliating because I got rejected by what I thought was a safety school, it was also the only school I applied to. So here I was, 20 years old with 3 semesters of college left to complete, but with no college to attend. I don’t handle rejection very well, especially when it comes to my education. Now I’m not a genius or anything like that but I am smart. I’ve always been good at school. It was easy for me and I got by without trying too hard. School was the one thing I had going for me. I’m not one who’s lucky enough to be able to get by on her looks alone, I don’t have any amazing talents and while I often say that I’d be content with just marrying a rich old man and living off of his successes, I’m too shallow to marry someone ugly and old (Although I’d make an exception for the old part if George Clooney came along and got down on one knee). So basically, I needed school. I needed to finish my degree and begin my career. It’s what I wanted, or at least what I thought I wanted. That rejection letter sent me into a minor emotional tailspin. What was I supposed to do with myself for a whole year until I could apply to more schools? Get a full time job? Yeah that would be great except for the fact that there aren’t any jobs to be had because of our lovely economic situation. And then there was the little problem of trying to explain to my extremely motivated and career driven parents that their daughter was rejected from an average school and like a moron, didn’t apply to any others. I had to come up with a solution and I had to do it quickly because good ol’ mom and dad weren’t going to believe that “Sac State just takes longer than other schools to send out acceptance letters” forever.

So one night as I sat in my room trying to control my feelings of failure and depression, I decided to take a long and hard look at my life and who I was as a person. And when I did this, I hated what I saw. I realized that I was working so hard to be the person that my parents wanted me to be that I wasn’t being who I wanted to be. I was trying so hard to please everyone else around me, (the people at church, my friends, my family, etc.) that my life wasn’t at all what I always told myself it would be. Yes, I was going to school and yes, that is something that I’ve always wanted and known that I needed but I wasn’t majoring in something I was passionate about. I was majoring in what my parents told me would always be stable and pay a lot. But as lovely as a big pay check and always having a job sounds, if it means that I have to work with little kids with speech impediments for the rest of my life well, no thank you. Quite frankly the only kids I ever want to have to deal with that have speech impediments, are my own kids and my cousin Quinn. I want to teach high school English! I want to work with inner city teenagers and help them to lean to love learning. And if that means that I won’t always have a job and won’t be driving a BMW, well so be it. And because of the fact that I wasn’t in love with what I was studying, my love of school and my desire to learn was gone. I was bored. My grades weren’t as good as they could be. I was just doing what I needed to to get by. I had become ok with being average. On top of the school situation, I was handling the rest of my life in the same half- assed manner. I had been struggling with my religious beliefs for quite some time but had continued to go through all the motions of going to church every Sunday and completing my callings because it’s what I was “supposed to do”. It’s what my parents expected and I always did what my parents expected. I had stopped putting an effort into my appearance. My closet full of nice clothes was left untouched and replaced by a daily uniform of a hooded sweatshirt, jeans and UGGS. Putting on a little bit of mascara and putting my hair into a ponytail was as good as it got. I wasn’t exercising and as a result had gained 10 lovely pounds (maybe that’s why I liked the sweatshirts so much?) and I spent more time in front of the TV living vicariously through the Kardashian sisters than being social with my own friends. Growing up I always wanted to see the world and have adventures. I wanted to see the way other cultures work and how other people live. My idea of experiencing new cultures had somehow become ordering Thai food for dinner. Somewhere along the road I had become extremely pessimistic and judgmental of others. I had lost all my sense of adventure and was living an extremely boring life. Everything had to have a purpose and be practical. I saw no reason to leave my comfort zone. I realize now that I was depressed and had been for quite some time but because I am a Bond, it’s in my genes to put on a happy front.

I was disgusted by who I was. I wasn’t proud of myself and I was devastated to discover that the person I used to be was nowhere to be found. So I decided right then and there that I was going to change. I was going to do something to bring back the old Brooke, the person that loved her life and wanted to make every day count. To make an already terribly long and I’m sure painfully boring story short, it suddenly dawned on me that being rejected from Sac State was just the wake-up call that I needed. It was forcing me to do something different and start a new chapter. And I figured that if I had to find something to do it might as well be something big. So I sent an e-mail to my friend Yassine who lives in France and asked if I could come stay with him for a while. He sent me a reply a few hours and later and the rest is history.

That brings us to the present. Like I said, I’m here and I am in love with everything that “here” has presented me with so far. I love life again. I love myself again. I love other people again.

Due to the fact that I am extremely long winded and I’m sure that if you actually made it this far you surely don’t want to continue reading, I’ll save the details about where I am living and all the things I have done so far for another day :)

Au revoir!

Something to think about...

"Real love doesn’t konk you on the head like a chunk of loose plaster. Love must take root and grow - one day at a time. Love is friendship that has caught fire. It is quite understanding, solid confidence, sharing and forgiving. It is loyalty through good times and bad. It survives dark moods and makes allowances for human frailties. It settles for less than perfection. Love is a mirror of life. It is real - not a bed of roses or a a paradise in fairyland. Love, like life, can be challenging and even heartbreaking. But the person who can face both life and love with confidence and courage - and give of himself for the sheer joy of giving - is sure to find joy and contentment. For LOVING IS LIVING."

I don't know who wrote this or where it came from but I was so impressed with it that I had to share. Maybe try to apply it to your life? Just a thought.

That's all for now folks.

Babysitter Anyone?

Valentines Day is in 11 days and this hunk right here still hasn't called and asked me out:

Rude.

So for all you moms out there, unless the gods come together and decide to help a sister out, I will be available to babysit on the day created by Satan.

Reunited and It Feels So Good.

Well hello again! After a long hiatus, I've decided to give this whole blogging thing another try. The blogging world-well, the four members of it that actually read this-could use a little bit more Brooke right? Well, maybe not, but I'm back to rant and rave and share my ridiculous opinions regardless.

A lot has happened in my world since my last post (a long and angry address towards the male sex and their selfish ways) and I think I'll take a few moments to share it all with you :)

After school got out in early May I jumped right in to my job as the Aquatics Manager for Arden Manor Recreation and Park District. For those of you who don't know where that is, well, it's in the ghetto. My mom tells me I should refer to the surrounding neighborhood as "lower income" or "a bit run down." That Tami Bond, always the optimist. I myself, see it like it is. It's in the ghetto. Every day while walking through the park to get to the pool I would hear "ohhh hey girlll, how you doin?" or "dammmmn girl, you lookin good in dat swimsuit" or "you wanna come save my life? I'm down with dat mouth to mouth." And then there's my all time favorite "AYYYYY MA! you come back to my house and be my personal lifeguard and I'll pay you double what you make a dat pool. You feelin' me?" Ayy ma? Really? What does that even mean? Needless to say, I got really good at ignoring large groups of rude and crude street vermin. Don't get me wrong, I LOVED my job and spent more hours than I care to admit at that pool where I was word-raped everyday. By August I had mastered the "stink eye" and could literally stop a kid from running on the pool deck with one look. My staff was fantastic and despite the fact that several of them admitted towards the end of the season that I scared them to death at the beginning, we all became extremely close by the end. The pool was only invaded by the "Brown Trout", otherwise known as poop, three times this summer. Considering the fact that last summer it happened at least eight times, we were incredibly happy with the improvement. Just in case you were wondering, getting poop out of a 10-foot deep pool is not an easy or enjoyable task. Not only does it involve having to handle someone else's fecal matter, but whoever is "lucky" enough to have to get it gets the nickname "Poo Diver" for at least 2 weeks after the ordeal. Poor soul.

On top of working at the pool 40+ hours a week I was lucky enough to watch my cousins Lilly and Quinn a few days a week while their mom was at work. Call me a loser, but spending time with them is probably one of my favorite things to do. The fact that I get paid to do it is the icing on the cake. I still can't believe how big they have gotten. I remember the day Lilly was born and now she's almost 10! I see so much of my self in little miss Lilly. She is a budding fashionista with an absolutely wicked sense of humor and a strong personality that is all her own, which could not make me any happier. Quinn is the nicest and most loving kid EVER and the fact that he still snuggles with me thrills me to death. He is hysterical and outgoing and wonderful. They are the loves of my life and my days with them are always fantastic.

My social life over the past few months has been nonexistent. I'm really not exaggerating. You know those girls that always say "Oh my gosh I am such a LOSER. I never go out, I never get asked on dates and I don't have any friends!" but who actually just want attention and actually do go out and be social? Well, I am not one of those girls. I literally spend my evenings at home, alone, in my room watching Nick at Night while eating ice cream out of the carton. My own mother asked me not too long ago if I have any friends. Yes, I do have friends. We all just happen to be ridiculously busy and when we're not we are all just too tired to do anything. I have learned to look at the situation as a chance to learn more about myself and reflect on who I am becoming as a person. In reality, I've just gained 5 pounds from eating ice cream and have seen every episode of Roseanne ever made.

I also turned 20 this summer. Madness. I'm still not sure how I feel about this transition out of the teens and into real adult life. Part of me loves the fact that I am getting to the point in my life where I will meet my future husband and start a career and actually do something with my life. But another part of me is absolutely terrified by the whole thing. I mean, there is a chance that I will never find someone to share the rest of my life with and that my life will not turn out exactly like it is written in my "life plan" (yes, I actually have one of those and yes, I realize that having a specific plan for my life written in extreme detail, including but not limited to: dates, places, the color of my bridesmaids dresses and my husbands salary down to the penny is extremely OCD and and a recipe for disappointment). I suppose all I can do is go about living my life as best as I know how and just hope for the best.

I started school at American River College again a few weeks ago and just when I though good ol' ARC couldn't get any better, it does. Not only could I not get all the classes I wanted due to the freaking budget cuts, there are at least 15 more students in every one of my classes than there were last semester. Great. I am now surrounded by even more people who don't even take the time to shower or change out of their pajamas before they come to class. I really don't understand how people can go out in public knowing full well that they look like crap. Yes, I realize how shallow and judgmental that sounds, but come on! Take 5 minutes to brush your hair and to find a shirt that actually matches your pants. It's not hard. Oh, and if one more person blows smoke in my face while I'm walking through campus I will lose it. GAHHH! On top of a campus full of students that closely resemble the creatures you would find at Wal Mart after 10 o'clock PM, one of my teachers speaks very broken English and another is 75 years old and in a wheel chair and talks about how much he hates Obama every. single. day. The cherry on the sundae is the conversation I heard while I was eavesdropping in the quad last wednesday. It went something like: "When I get stressed I do Meth. You should try it." "I don't know man, meth messes you up. Coke is way safer." Golly, it's a good thing I learned that!

And that my friends, brings us up to date. If you actually read all of that, I applaud you. Despite any pessimistic tones you may have picked up while reading The Biography of Brooke, I am actually very happy and content with how things are looking for me at this moment in time. Like I said earlier, I am just living my life as best as I know how and doing my best to stay positive no matter how big of a train wreck my life seems to be at times.

Oh, and just in case you were wondering, I'm still a man hater, but am becoming less and less bitter everyday.

One last thing, if you are reading this and go to ARC, please don't be offended. Obviously not everyone who goes to school there looks like they live under a bridge and/or comes out of a swamp after the sun goes down. I just tend to take the negative extremes and run with them. It's just part of my sparkling personality that makes me such a hit with people :)

Swine flu doesn't come from pigs- it comes from men. It's easy to mix the two up.

Warning: If you want to read a fun, lighthearted blog entry and/or you are a male that is easily offended by criticism, skip this blog and come back tomorrow.

I'm going to be quite blunt and cut right to the chase. Lately I have witnessed and experienced many things that have left me extremely disgusted and disappointed with the male sex. Now before you roll your eyes and think "Oh geeze Brooke get over yourself and your petty reasons for hating men" at least hear me out- I'm working on being less judgmental so I expect the same of you, especially since this is my blog and as far I'm concerned my word is law as long as you are reading this.

I am lucky enough to know some truly amazing and beautiful women, who as far as I am concerned deserve nothing but the best and should be treated with the utmost respect. I am extremely picky about who I will be friends with- I have lots of acquaintances and very few friends- so the people I do consider to be my friends have in my eyes proven themselves to be good and worthwhile individuals who just also happen to be beautiful on the outside as well. Once you've made it into my friend club (and yes, it is as cool as it sounds... we have a secret handshake and everything) I will do anything for you. I am fiercely protective of my friends and when people screw my friends over I don't respond kindly to it.

This leads me back to my topic of the day. Lately the people who have been doing the hurting and consequently pissing me off are, drum-roll please, MEN. Notice how I use the word "men" and not "boys"- the males I am referring to are all over the age of 18 and therefore are adults who should be expected to handle situations in a mature and responsible manner. This however is not at all the case. Since when did it become acceptable to just stop talking and ignore someone completely when you are "over it" and move on without even a simple "this isn't working for me"? If you're thinking "oh that doesn't happen" I can assure you that it does. And any girl that has ever had this happen to them will tell you that it's probably one of the worst feelings in the world. Or even worse, when did lying become acceptable? Or when did it suddenly become okay to use people to fill up a boring time in your life and then simply toss them aside when something better comes along? That reminds me of something a certain someone said not to long ago, and I quote "It's nice to have someone around when life is boring. But when things get exciting again I'm not going to keep them around." Wow. Real classy. I know guys like to make-out/do other intimate things that I won't mention, but seriously you're willing to potentially really hurt someone just to get some action? In the "Book of Brooke"- yes it exists- that is NEVER ok, and yet I've seen it happen time and time again. And if you're reading this and happen to be a man and are thinking none of the things I just mentioned are acceptable then please explain to my why you insist on doing them. Please. I would LOVE to hear your thoughts on the subject.

The thing that really blows my mind is that the specific individuals that I am referring to are not at the type that one would expect to do this sort of thing. They are all intelligent, successful and seemingly nice guys who come from good families and have strong morals. They are the type of guy that every girl dreams of marrying... or at least they appear to be. So why then do they feel the need to act in such a disrespectful and immature manner? Why do they think it's okay to be hurtful and disregard the feelings of other? Do they not realize that their actions effect other people, or do they just not care? Or maybe they really don't mean to be hurtful and just don't know how to deal with potentially awkward/emotional situations. Either way I find the whole thing to be discouraging and nauseating.

So in case you haven't already guessed I am not a big fan of men at this point in my life... unless his name happens to be Ed Westwick or Adam Lambert. Call me crazy, but I'm just not that fond of getting shafted and left with nothing but a hurt heart and a sour taste in my mouth.

Oh, and I know that this whole entry has been a major generalization so I apologize if you are a good guy who has never done anything to deserve being put in my "mean man" group. I speak for girls everywhere when I say that I love you and wish there were more of you and beg you to keep on being nice.

And that's all I have to say about that.

Blogging withdrawals

My life is boring and I have nothing to blog about these days. Sad :( Someone please come spice up my life.

On a more positive note, Bryanne will be home in something like 20 days. Woot Woot!

And this is why I love community college

I'd like to take a moment to share with you two conversations that I had today.

So today I got to my history class 5 or so minutes early, sat down in my usual seat and pulled out my notes to review for the quiz that we were going to be taking later in the class period. I was just sitting there minding my own business, looking at my notes when all of a sudden this kid sits down next to me and taps me on the shoulder. I turn to face him and this is the conversation that followed:

Me: "Can I help you?"

Random Boy: "Hi, yeah, I was just wondering if you knew where I could get some weed?"

Me: "Excuse me?"

R.B: "You know, pot. Where do you get yours?"

Me: "I have no idea where you got the idea that I smoke weed, but I don't. You'll have to ask someone else."

R.B: "For reals? I'm sorry... this is really awkward... you just look like someone who would know where to get it."

Me: "Umm... no, I don't"

R.B: "Ok well thanks anyways."

Me: "Yeah, uh huh... no problem..."

After class was over I went to the counseling center to meet with a counselor about transfering to BYU next year. I walked up to the desk, signed in and then sat down to wait for my name to be called. The next thing I know another random kid sits down next to me and after a few minutes he turns to face me and this is the conversation that followed:

Random Boy #2: "Hi, I'm Mark. What's your name?"

Me: "Hi, I'm Brooke."

R.B.2: "What are you here for?"

Me: "I just need to make sure I have everything I need to transfer next year."

R.B.2: "Oh, cool, where are you planning on transfering to?"

Me: "BYU"

R.B.2: "Isn't that a Mormon school?"

Me: "Yeah..."

R.B.2: "You're not Mormon are you?"

Me: "Yeah..."

R.B.2: "Hmm... weird. You don't seem friendly enough to be a Mormon. All the Mormons I know are like bursting at the seams with friendliness... and you're not. No offense or anything."

Me: "Oh. I don't really know what to say to that. I can assure you that I am Mormon.. sorry to disappoint you with my non-friendliness. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go."

R.B.2: "Alright, well it was nice chatting with you Brooke. Good luck with BYU!"

Me: "Yeah, thanks."

So in the span of 2 hours I learned that I look like a stoner and that I'm not nice enough to be Mormon- from two complete strangers nonetheless. Wonderful. I'd just like to make it clear that I am NOT a burn-out and that I actually am a fairly nice individual (I just have a tendency to look mean when I'm thinking- I got it from my mom)- just in case you had any doubts :)