You Can’t Outrun the Uncertain Future

You Can’t Outrun the Uncertain Future

by Rasmenia Comment Closed
A few months ago, life was normal. The future was uncertain, but I slept better than I do now. My husband Olivier and I were enjoying our first year of living in England. After ten years in France, it was a welcome and exciting change. We often had conversations about what the next big leap might be. Maybe back home to the States, depending on the election. Or, maybe elsewhere in the U.K., depending on how the whole Brexit thing goes. The threat of Brexit cast a shadow over everything, but it didn't feel menacing. Hell, it probably wouldn't actually happen. That'd be crazy.Then came the morning that we woke up and found ourselves living in fucking crazytown.My husband, a European working in England, had to go to work immediately afterward, all the while wondering if everyone he looked at had just voted for him to leave. Luckily, working in an office with a colorful international mix softened the blow....
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London, Paris, New York… and Longmont

London, Paris, New York… and Longmont

by Rasmenia Comment Closed
It all started with laughter and a longing to be somewhere else.I don't miss my hometown. I moved out of Longmont, Colorado in 1994, and never wanted to move back. For me, crossing that town line is like stepping into a dark parallel universe of bad memories. It's a time machine that only goes back to traumatic events; to people who only knew me as the juvenile delinquent offspring of a narcissistic, alcoholic mother. People who said I'd end up as nothing, popping out kids, smoking crack and ending up dead in a ditch. It's the town where a loser who nearly killed me is still frequently seen walking around on the street.I still have some very awesome friends living in Longmont, and while I almost envy their loving view of the place, I simply do not share it.My home life was not as bad or as good as it could have been, but it was difficult. It had a...
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Fluent in Fromage

Fluent in Fromage

by Rasmenia Comment Closed
After exchanging emails, letters and phone calls for 8 months with a French guy I'd met online, it was time to go to Paris to meet him face-to-face; time to look one another in the eye and discover if our long-distance chemistry would hold up in the flesh. I'd been in Paris one other time, 7 years before, but this time was different. This time, I wasn't a tourist.This time, I was on a crazy, international, first-date adventure that would last for 2 weeks.Olivier picked me up at Charles de Gaule airport. We went to his apartment in Montmartre and listened to April in Paris. Because funny enough - it really was April and we were in Paris.httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JCJRoG6W8yQHe told me he'd planned a road trip for us and that he wanted to introduce me to some of his friends. After talking every day for almost a year, I knew quite a bit about most of his friends already, so I...
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Boobs Are Cool. Bras Are Dumb.

Boobs Are Cool. Bras Are Dumb.

by Rasmenia Comment Closed
Earlier this year, a French doctor announced that women are better off without bras. Now, I know some women are quite fond of their bras, or feel the need for a bra. Cool. Keep on rockin' the harness, ladies.However, I read the article and said, "Well, no shit. Bras are stupid."I have always hated bras. I feel stiff and restrained. Tied down. Strapped. Saddled. Shackled. I scratch and claw, twisting and reaching, trying to bite at it - much like my cat when someone is foolish enough to put a collar around her neck.That said, I'm going to tell you that there is one benefit to binding your boobs.When you move to France, there's a whole laundry list of things that a person must do in order to obtain their carte de séjour (their residency card). One of those things is to get a chest x-ray to make sure you don't have tuberculosis. So, back in 2006 when I was...
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Expatriate, Not Ex-Patriot

Expatriate, Not Ex-Patriot

by Rasmenia Comment Closed
When my dog was a tiny puppy, she was cute, but hyperactive. She barked a lot and played with her poop. She peed every time she met someone new. She was loveable, but a handful. An adorable, stinky handful. She wasn't stupid, she just needed some teaching and new experiences.We worked on teaching her new words and how to do things. We took her to new places where she could sniff unfamiliar butts and discover the wonderment of poop that wasn't her own.The more she learns, the more she ventures out of her own yard, the happier she is. She's also calmer and smarter for it.Humans will never be able to live and love as well as dogs, but in one regard, we're not so different: the more we learn and venture out of our own yard, the better we will be.Traveling is good for you. It doesn't matter if it's a trip to another region in your own country,...
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Awkward Adventures in the Socialized Healthcare of France

Awkward Adventures in the Socialized Healthcare of France

by Rasmenia Comment Closed
Before I even get started, let me warn you that if you get squeamish when it comes to chatter about doctors poking around in lady bits, then this post will not interest, amuse or inform you in any way. You'll likely be too preoccupied with all of your squeamishing to to focus on reading, so... off you go while the rest of us talk.Like a great many people, I've never cared much for going to the doctor. Any doctor. For anything. I'm not afraid of doctors, but in the past, I usually had to feel as though I were at risk of coughing up my aorta, or maybe shitting out a spleen or several yards of intestines. Even when I had broken bones, I was reluctant. I didn't mind carrying my broken wrist with my good arm if the alternative was sitting in the emergency room. A busted eye socket... well, I didn't even go to the hospital. Luckily, I...
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