A story by Mallory and Menno.

So one night last week when Menno and I were really bored, we decided to write a story. It's pretty lame, but holds some good memories of my time in Angers...raccoons, strawberry cookies, Narnia, Estonia, hallucinations, you get the picture :).

Once, once, far away in a country where they wrote in bad English there was a raccoon that was called Ruth. This raccoon took great pleasure in stalking foreign exchange students in his land. For instance, there was an incident with a foreign exchange student from Estonia.

One day, while scurrying along a path, Ruth had the misfortune of being struck in the head by a gross strawberry jelly cookie. The cookie, which was a bit stale, hit her in the head and caused a concussion which caused her to lose her memory. Along with losing her memory, Ruth lost her mind, and believed that she was indeed a LION!The lion is the king of the animal kingdom, but Ruth instead thought that she was the queen of the human world. She proceeded to storm up to the room from which the airborne cookie flew, and attempted to growl and get the unfortunate student to open up his door...unfortunately, all that came out was a little whimper. Ruth stormed into the room and found an Estonian exchange student who was at the moment in the middle of an Estonian ritual dance. This ritual Estonian dance of course involved the use of the Estonian ritual beating stick. The fact that Ruth came in to the room of the Estonian exchange student during the ritual made the student fiercely mad and therefore the Estonian hit her on the head with the Estonian ritual beating stick which caused her to land in a magical kingdom....the kingdom of NARNIA!

crunching some numbers

Number of...
...days I'm in Europe in 2006: 125
...days I'm in classes in France: 39
...vacation days: 86

That's pretty pathetic, if I was actually paying for my education, it might be enough to make me cry.

finding menno

It has been brought to my attention by a certain Dutchman who will remain nameless (although his name does resemble that of a little fish...), that I have been neglecting to explain fully to all my blog faithfuls who this mysterious and intriguing fellow named Menno really is. You may have noticed his name here and there in my posts, but I have yet to put into words exactly how this tall lad earned himself the honor of being called my friend. So this is the story of a boy named Menno...

It all started one day when I was leaving my residence hall to go to the library for an internet date with Megan. I was booking it at my normal furious walking pace, because I wanted to make sure that I made it there on time to catch my lovely roommate before she went off to class! Just as I was about to turn the corner to take my normal shortcut, I see before me a tall, handsome guy that I had never seen before. Thinking he looked too nice to be French, I brushed it off and continued on my way to the library. Then to my surprise, this imposing figure turns to me and asks, "Excusez-moi mademoiselle, est-ce que vous connaissez où se trouve le bureau de CROUS?" Not knowing exactly what he meant by the CROUS office, which is the governing body for the student residence halls, I was somewhat confused, until a girl that was with him, Annemiek, asked if I spoke English, I replied that I did, and they proceeded to explain that they needed to get their rooms quickly before the office closed for the day. I finally realized they need to go to the secretariat, and showed them the way. Little did I know, this would be the beginning of a wonderful friendship between three Dutch kids and myself.

A few days later, I was with Stephanie and saw Menno again with his other Dutch friends at the bus stop, and we got to know each other a little better waiting for the bus to arrive. Then, he made a wonderful second impression by getting on the bus, and promptly smacking his head on the television monitor mounted on the ceiling of the bus. One of the things that makes Menno so special is his height...he measures no less than 2 meters tall, which for us Americans is the equivalent to 6'6". Shortly thereafter, Menno and his two compatriots, Jan-Willem and Annemiek, came by the kitchen while we were finishing up dinner one Saturday night. Somehow the topic of conversation turned to geography, and Menno was able to coolly name half of the U.S. states, and upon discovering our lack of knowledge concerning Dutch provinces, he in turn began instructing us in the geography of the Netherlands. That same evening we uncovered another interesting fact, Menno is crazy about Gilmore Girls! Not like he just watches the show, he's a real fan, and could probably tell you the storyline of every single episode that's ever aired in the Netherlands. The following day we visited the castle with him, and not knowing much about him, our interactions with him usually were sarcastic remarks about his height...but he took them all very well and never crushed us little people standing at his feet.

The next major event of our friendship that I can remember involves crepe night in Brian's kitchen. We were all standing around eating lots and lots of crepes, and I think I said something really sarcastic to Menno about being a giant or something, and he turns to me and says, "Bitch!" I was shocked, and the whole room suddenly got silent. He looked thoroughly confused, and then realized that for Americans, calling someone a female dog is a pretty strong statement, whereas for him it's more like calling someone a jerk. But nonetheless, it was a slip-up that insures that I will always remember Menno, the first person to ever call me that name.

From then on, we kind of had a drought of Menno's presence. He decided that we weren't very cool and starting hanging out with other people, we in turn would gather every night to talk about him and make cruel acronyms for his name. But then the strikes here in France saved our friendship. Because of the strikes we had to take the bus to some of our classes that had been moved to another campus across town, and with the assistance of a little wonder called an iPod, and we began to bond like molecules of sodium and chloride (quick author's note: being able to make that chemistry analogy brought a smile to my face). We'd ride to class and listen to his music, with him painstakingly translating every Dutch song that came up. Music is one of the devices that brought us together, bonding over such songs as "I Try" by Macy Gray, "All I Want for Christmas is You" by Mariah Carey, "Unwritten" by Natasha Bedingfield, anything by Joss Stone, and some Dutch song that talks about flying over land and sea. Then during class we'd sit next to each other and talk about how much we detest Mme. Maillard, and instead of paying attention in class we'd solve Sudoku puzzles.

Sometime in the midst of all of this iPod bonding, we found out Menno's last name...Captein. But for some reason, everytime I saw it I thought "el capitan!", so I decided that that was how I would refer to him. Also, he divulged to us his real name, Menno is just a nickname, his real name is really Dutch and really cool, but due to a vow of silence that I took I can't tell you what it is...or he'll beat me with an Estonian ritual beating stick. Also, one of the most impressive things about Menno...he was able to learn perfectly all the 50 states AND their capitals in less than a week! Seriously, if you ever meet this kid, give him a state, and he'll astound you with his speed in responding. \par\parHowever, one of the greatest surprises that has come with being Menno's friend is discovering his hidden talent for storytelling. One night on a whim, I asked him to read a little from The Chronicles of Narnia, since his English has a slight British accent I thought it would be more authentic to hear him read it. Little did I know, this little taste of Narnia would enchant Menno, and his presence became integral for our storytimes. He developed the best voices for Bree and Shasta in The Horse and his Boy, and is just amazing. So much so that, if I have kids in the future, I may have to call up Menno and spend fortunes on long-distance phone calls so my children can experience his great story-telling.

Now, Menno and us three American girls are tighter than that little screw on my outlet cover (if I haven't ever told you that story, that sucker was TIGHT!) He plays Hot Seat with us, we let him eat our cookies and fruit snacks without making him pay centimes for each one he devours, and we've gotten over the fact that we were his third choice for friends in Angers. But all in all, Menno Captein (CAPITAN!) is my favorite Dutchman, probably even my favorite European. And that is the end...hopefully Menno will stop crying now about me not mentioning him enough on my blog.

After crucifying a chicken, all the children of the world are happy.  

food sweet food

So during my 5 weeks of no classes, I did something productive. I sat down and made a list of all the things I really want to eat once I'm back in the U.S. So if you happen to be craving any of the same foods, leave me a comment and you can be the first person I eat them with once I'm back home! What an honor that would be, huh?

• CHEESECAKE
• GRILLED HOT DOGS
• CHOCOLATE CHIP COOKIES
• OATMEAL CREME PIES
• CHIPS AND SALSA--Megan Mathews
• TACO BELL
• PIZZA HUT
• TEXAS ROADHOUSE--Mr. Cotter, you will love Texas in Iowa
• COLD STONE--Emma Sue, this one's all yours
• MILKSHAKE FROM STEAK AND SHAKE
• OLIVE GARDEN SOUP AND BREADSTICKS
• FROSTY FROM WENDY'S
• MY MOM'S STRAWBERRY PIE
• MIKE'S APPLE PIE W/ICE CREAM
• CORN ON THE COB (I KNOW, ME CRAVING A VEGETABLE...SCARY)

Going to the temple...

...and we're gonna get some Jesus! The past few Sundays I've been ditching the Baptist church here in Angers in favor of going to another Protestant church closer to the downtown area, near the castle and the Musee des Beaux-Arts. The church holds its services in an old temple that was constructed sometime during the 12th century...which is really cool aside from the obvious drawbacks of not having heat. (Haha, very cool indeed...wow, puns are worse than ever these days). Anyway, last Sunday I met a nice couple named Jacques and Fabienne, and they invited some of my friends and me over for dinner on Wednesday night. We took them up on their offer because, let's face it, free food is always welcome, even if it involves trusting strangers not to poison you.

So we went to their house (we includes Sarah, Stephanie, Menno, Jan-Willem, Kees, and myself), and they fed us very very well, we even got strawberry cream pie for dessert! They are a really sweet couple with an amazing house, and it was an all around good time getting to spend time with real French people, talking about their perceptions of the U.S., ours of France, etc. And I found out that they don't eat the skin on potatoes. Weird, that's where all the nutrients are, right? Or is that just some lie that's been fed to me since birth?

wowzers...

A few nights ago I was reaching down to unplug my laptop from the outlet, which, for those of you who aren't accustomed to the set-up of my jail cell, is currently located under my bed. Anyway, I was reaching down, my arm resting on the metal frame of my bed and BAM! An electric current shoots through my arm, burning me where my arm was resting on the frame of my bed. It was pretty shocking (bad pun, I know, but I had to do it) because it's the first time I've been really electrocuted! And of course having the luck that I do, I had to wait to do it until I was in France, where the voltage is 240 volts instead of 120 like in the U.S....because my motto is...go big or go home. Speaking of going home...less than six weeks until that happens!

crack attack

(This post is going to serve as more of a public service announcement.)

Keep your kids off crack. And by crack, I mean a little Tetris-like game called Crack Attack. You may think it seems harmless and non-habit-forming at first, but then it starts to show its true nature, calling you away from your regular social engagements because you just need to play "one more game". You start dreaming about new ways to get 5 blocks cleared at a time, the enticing colors of violet, green, yellow, blue, and grey swirl around endlessly in your mind. Whoever this Aluminum Angel is (and that is a-loo-mi-num, not a-loo-min-e-um), he is probably loved by procrastinators and hated by bosses and teachers around the globe. So please, don't get sucked in, I know I'm breaking the habit right now.

well, after just one more game...

oh spoon

...the like foreboding stirreth in my heart also.

aww...i miss my family 

ready to go Dutch?

I can name all 12 Dutch provinces...and here I go.

Friesland
Flevoland
Drenthe
Gelderland
Overijssel
Nord Holland
Zuid Holland
Zeeland
Groningen
Utrecht
Limburg
Nord Brabant

I'm glad I'm learning something over here.

I also learned how to say I love you in Polish. co ham cha is what it sounds like, don't even ask me to spell it.

your daily news report straight from Angers

Breaking news from the Université d'Angers...the strike has been prolonged until at least March 29. Which means that of the 31 days in the month of March, students in Angers will have actually been in class for no more than 6 days.

Elsewhere in Angers, or rather, everywhere in Angers, the sun has also declared a strike, in refusing to show us its beautiful face for three days now. We'll see how long it can hold out, hopefully it's not quite as stubborn as French college students.

In sports, Mallory Piehl was once again victorious in Scrabble contests, yet held winless in poker battles against James Killick and Stephanie Bunch.

As for the economy, we've witnessed the return of amazingly low prices on the Multi-Vitamin juice at the Super U, stock up kids, it'll only last for so long, and you've got another boring week ahead of you. Also, Milka chocolate is being sold at season-low prices, go for the multi-pack, you'll inhale that Belgian goodness.

And in entertainment....haha, good luck. Finding entertainment in Angers is like finding a word that rhymes with orange. Equally impossible and fruitless endeavors.

three strikes and you're out!

Never before has that phrase been more true! The student assembly at my university voted to strike for the third time yesterday...extending my extra spring break until noon on Wednesday. Which basically means that in a period of roughly 25 days, I will have had only 4 days of class. The news reports say that 50 of the 84 universities in France are on strike, and some have been in this state for 5 weeks already. So it could be quite awhile until I'm back in school if the French government continues to be stubborn.

Oh, and last night I had a dream that I was going to be performing with the Dixie Chicks at a big concert, only I lost my voice a few hours before I was supposed to go on. Luckily I knew how to play the violin in my dream, so I didn't miss out on my time in the spotlight.

a question i've been asking for years...finally answered

that question being...

What does Piehl mean?

The answer: It's German, and it's used as a nickname for a tall, thin man. So when you people call me Piehl, you're calling me a man. If only I knew how to feminize nouns in German, I could do that to Piehl and create a new last name for myself. I'll work on it, I've got some German connections here in France.

my pizza hut dream

It's storytime from Mallory's dreamland!

Last night I had a dream that I had been hired as a waitress at Pizza Hut. When I showed up for my first day of what I assumed to be training, they slapped a pad of paper and a pen in my hand and told me to get to work because I had customers waiting. So I set off to take some orders, which is when I discovered that I was in France, or at least I was speaking in French to my customers and they were paying with euros. I was the only waitress working, and suddenly people came pouring into the restaurant...my family was there, some of my friends were there, and even Brad Pitt and Jennifer Aniston were able to reconcile their differences to make a trip to Pizza Hut. I was doing well waiting on about 50 people, until someone ordered iced tea to drink, and I panicked...I don't know how to make iced tea! But I was able to find a customer who did, so all was well. Then as I was going into the kitchen to pick up a pizza, I see Paul Golke, sporting a mullet, in true Paul Golke fashion, picking pepperonis off of the pizza I was about to serve. I ask him what he's doing, and he says he came to tell me that I'd been hired back at camp, and that the camp board could tell that I was a real Lutheran. So then I had to make a decision...Pizza Hut or camp? And that's when I woke up.

a weekend in paris...coming up!

So I just have to say it...how cool is it that I can randomly decide to spend a weekend in Paris without any advance planning...and that I can do it for 35 euros? To explain, the family Shannon is staying with in Paris wants to meet me, so I'm going to spend the weekend with Shannon and them, stay at their house and enjoy some great food! And rumor has it that all the visitors to their house get these cool beaded slippers from Turkey (they're Turkish), that alone is enough to make me come! AND they have a 6 year old daughter, so I'll get to play with a kid!

the kebab...so much more than i bargained for

While I was in Nice, I had the extreme fortune of tasting my first kebab sandwich. Due to a fire on my train, Brian, Sarah, and I didn't get back into town until about 9:00 and by the time the boys got themselves all prettied up, it was 11, and we still had not eaten...leaving us with only two options...McDonalds or kebabs. Being the daring and adventure seeking individuals that we are, we opted for the kebab! So what is a kebab? Well if you ever find yourself in Europe, you will probably walk around the downtown of any major city and notice in the windows of some fast food restaurants one big huge cylinder of meat rotating on a big stick (reminiscent of the shish kabob concept familiar to Americans, but it's so much more!). That my friends, is the source of kebab splendor. I'm not sure what kind of meat it is, if I had to guess I would venture pork, but it's good stuff...as long as you don't look too closely at what you're eating. The kebab connoisseurs take a knife and shave off parts of this huge hunk of meat into a tortilla wrap, throw some fries, lettuce, tomato, and whatever other sauce you desire in it, and you've got a super filling and satisfying meal to go. The kebab is most popular among drunk students, but I can confirm that it's delicious to those of us to swear by sobreity as well. So come visit me in France, I'll take you out for a kebab and fries!

Pope Pius IX...what a pushover!

For a total of about 10 hours today and yesterday I've been working on a history paper about Pope Pius IX's controversial writing, The Syllabus of Errors, in which he condemns 80 propositions of contemporary thought. The fact that he did this is not in and of itself completely appalling, it seems reasonable that he would want to defend the institution that he is leading, but what IS crazy is that the publishing of this document completely contradicts his previous stances regarding the liberal movement in Italy. When the previous pope died, Pius IX was one of the liberal candidates for the papacy, and once he was elected, he set in motion what was thought to be the process of modernization of the states under the power of the pope. The Italians loved him, and even dreamed of creating an Italian federation presided over by him. But then we have 1848, Mazzini, a revolution, and war being declared with Austria, which was being lead by an extremely devout Catholic dynasty...so the Pope stayed true to his doctrine and denonced the war, fled Rome, and came back two years later a staunch conservative, ready to condemn all aspects of liberalism, enlightenment, etc. in order to gain the admiration of the intransigents of the Catholic church.

Anyway, long story short, Pius IX had no real backbone, and I hope the Catholic church never decides to make him a saint.

students on strike!

Yesterday I experienced another first in my life...my first time being a part of a strike! Students at universities across France are currently striking in protest of a new law that the French government is close to passing called the First Job Contract, in which any new hiree under the age of 26 can be fired without reason within the first two years of working for a company. Thursday afternoon there was a large assembly during which the student body government voted to declare a strike from Friday morning until Monday at noon. I was unsure what this meant until I came to campus yesterday morning to work on a paper and found all the entrances to the building where I have classes barricaded with desks and chairs! There was also a manifestation outside my dorm with lots of angry "revolutionary" types protesting this law...always something exciting happening in Angers!

mamma mia!

So while I was in Milan, Italy last week, one morning Sarah and I went to an Italian bakery. We walk in and wait patiently in line to order our pastries, and when it's my turn, I order, and this little old Italian lady behind me starts commending me in Italian for making such a great choice. She grabs my arm and starts spewing off Italian...the only words i caught were "mamma mia!" and "bellisima!" Then an older man came in the shop, and there's Italian flying everywhere, which is understandable, but then again...not understandable because I don't speak Italian! The lady working at the bakery and these two other people just kept going on and on saying "bella" all the time and talking about Sarah and me, it made me feel like I was really a part of an Italian family (if only i had dark hair and skin...).