what's in a name?

So I wasn't always called Kelly. Until about the age of 11 I had a Vietnamese name that sounds nothing like, but was pronounced "Two Train". I remember when this happened. It was during my first day of kindergarten and during roll call the teacher pronounced my name best she could. In her defense she did ask me if this was correct and I did nod. I didn't speak English at the time.

Did it bother me that people were mispronouncing my name? No. Why? Because I realized quickly there's something worse than having people mispronounce your name and that is trying to correct it. It goes something like this (shortened version):

Them: Two Train?
Me: [correct way]
Them: TWO Train?
Me: [correct way]
Them: Two TRAIN?
Me: [correct way]
Them: TWO TRAIN??? [hopeful and expectant look]
Me: Good! [I am lying]

I think it is very sweet when people try to pronounce my name correctly but I also think people need to accept that it's another language and not pronouncing it correctly is ok (kind of how I have accepted I will never pronounce the the french letter "U" correctly - it's ok!!!!). Let it go and let me move on with my life.

Anywho,when I became a U.S. citizen my mother decided that we would all change our names (I suspect it had something to do with the fact that it was free with the citizenship change). I was 11 at the time and my favorite show was Saved by the Bell so... well, it could have been worse. I almost called myself Adora.

So I was officially Kelly and tucked Train to my middle name and everything was hunky dory. Until I moved to France (of course).

For some reason (which I still regret to this day) I put my middle name on my CV and my company decided to take my middle name and hyphenate it with my last name. I'm not sure why they did this but it's annoying because now at work, to find me in lotus notes or to call me, you have to look under 'T' and now I have to have this conversation over and over:

Them: I can't find your email address/phone number.
Me: Try under T.
Them: But I thought your last name starts with a P.
Me: It does.
Them: So why is it listed under T?
Me: [BECAUSE FRENCH PEOPLE CAN'T HANDLE MIDDLE NAMES!!!!!] Dunno.

And it's not just in my work life. The French social security system decided to use the name on my birth certificate (Two Train) while issuing me a french identity card with the name on my passport (Kelly). What's worse is that the name on my birth certificate has my Vietnamese middle name (Thi) first followed by first name which lead to this conversation:

Bf: I thought your Vietnamese name is Two Train
Me: It is.
Bf: Card says Thi Two Train
Me: I don't want to talk about it.

So the other day, I finally received my supplemental insurance card which is sponsored by my company BUT works also in collaboration with social security so I was curious, which name would they use?

Why all of them!!!! I'm not kidding, the name on the card is:

Thi Two Train Kelly

I just hope they never ask for ID.

carbonara

So I don't really cook. In university my roommate always came back to the apartment with smoke coming out from under the door (this is not an exaggeration). One time I mixed up whipped cream for whipping cream thinking they were the same thing (they are not). In Japan, whenever we had group dinners my contribution was always corn (boiled).

So yesterday I was feeling ambitious (and hungry) so I looked in my fridge and thought I recognized the ingredients for carbonara. Since I have never actually made carbonara before I looked up the recipe online. It all looked fine until I read the warning that, if the raw egg bit was not done properly, you could end up with a lumpy sauce. In all my eating experience I have never had a lumpy carbonara and it didn't sound appealing. I looked the cooking level for the recipe. Medium. I started to think I was in over my head.

I went on gchat for guidance. One of my friends was very encouraging and believed in me: "You can do it! (Followed by: It's so easy!). One gave me a recipe (with step by step picture instructions).

So I guess I owe them an update and here it is: The carabonara turned out great (The bf made it).

bretagne

So I've decided that the sky can be gray for 4 days if it wants to, as long as I still have a view.

czech it

So in the Halloween spirit, this past weekend I pretended to be someone I'm not by putting on fancy clothes and going to the opera. In Prague.



And no it wasn't my idea. It was the bf's - a surprise for my birthday. Three days in Prague. I was thrilled.


What really struck me about Prague are the colors. The the hazel green eyes of its citizens, the red rooftops accented by the fall foliage of yellows, oranges, reds, and browns.



It was a lovely way to get away from the 'Metro, boulot, dodo' routine I had slipped into since starting to work full time in Paris. To sit on the balcony of the hotel drinking coffee, taking in the view, and being reminded of how lucky I am.

la banque

So my atm card expired and my bank sent me a new card only they sent it to my old address in Rouen (as you may or may not recall I have not had a proper address for about a year). Seeing as how I am now legitimate and all I went to my bank in Paris to get it sorted out.

Only turns out the only bank that is "my" bank is the branch in Rouen where I opened my account. Nevermind that the branch in Paris has exactly the same name and looks exactly the same. No, they couldn't do anything to help me. Could the bank in Rouen do something? Yes, but if they ordered a new card for me it would be sent to Rouen. Could the bank in Rouen order it and have it send to the bank in Paris? No, of course not you silly foreigner! Rouen is YOUR bank and all your dealings will be with them and them only.

Uh, could somebody please tell me why this bank has branches all over the country? What is the point of that if only to frustrate and annoy me and make me think my bank is accessible everywhere when clearly, it is not.

But ok, this is the way it works in France (I asked around, this "national" but NOT bank thing is very common) and I choose to live in France so ok, tell me what I have to do to get my card without having to travel one and a half hours by train.

Them: You can transfer your account to the branch in Paris.
Me: Ok.
Them: But it will take three days before the bank in Paris will have to power to order your card.
Me: Ok.
Them: And it will take another week to receive the card.
Me: But in Paris right?
Them: Yes.
Me: Ok.

One week and three days later I go to the bank in Paris to pick my card only... wait for it...

It's in Rouen. What??? How did that happen???? Did I or did I not just jump through all your hoops so the card would not go to Rouen.

Them: Well yes.
Me: So?
Them: The card is in Rouen m'am.
Me: Yes, I know. But WHY???
Them: I don't know why m'am but the card in is in Rouen.
Me: But... WHY???
Them: I don't know why m'am but the card in is in Rouen.

Continues on like this this for a while.

Me: [different tactic] What can you do for me?
Them: We can have it sent here from Rouen. It will take one week.
Me: Do you realize I've already been without a bank card for a week and a half? And I'm going to London this weekend.
Them: The card is in Rouen m'am.
Me: Yes I get that. Can you send it faster?
Them: Let's see, it's already the afternoon so it would have to be tomorrow (Friday) at the earliest that the card can be sent. You are not here this weekend. We're closed on Mondays. Tuesday there's a strike....

I know when I'm beat.

Them: You know m'am you can always get cash out.
Me: Good idea could you give me some cash?
Them: No, sorry we don't have cash here. But we can call the one a 10 minute walk away to tell them you are coming and to give you cash.

It was at this point that I turned around and walked away.

cours de francias

Professeur: Mlle, c'est quoi un aperitif?
Moi: Beh, une petite verre de quelque chose a boire avant manger?
Professeur: [Big smile] Mlle je pense que vous avez beaucoup des amies en France, n'est pas?

Translation:

Teacher: Ms. what is an aperitif?
Me: Uh, a small (alcoholic) drink one has before eating?
Teacher: [Big smile] I'm guessing you must have a lot of friends in France isn't that right?

Turns out he said 'impératif' (imperative) and not 'un aperitif' which you know, makes sense in a French course.

I am dum.

luton i hate you

So the bf and I went to London this past weekend for a friend's 30 birthday celebration. Because tickets on the Euro star leaving Saturday and coming back Sunday are ridiculously expensive I went with easyjet and thought myself lucky when I found roundtrip tickets for 50 euros.

It was only when I arrived at Luton airport when I realized, hey, wait a minute, I've been here before and the last time I was here, I swore to never fly into Luton again.

Why?

Calling Luton Airport a "London" airport is like calling BWI a "D.C." airport. Shit is far. I guess if you have a nice long leisurely stay in London it's not a big deal but when I've gotten up at 5:30am that morning and have to leave the next day it's kind of painful.

But of course things could always be worse which I realized the next day when not only was I dead tired and having to go to this stupid airport but I was also hungover which ill-ed prepared me for (or was the cause?) of the epic journey back t Paris the next day:

1. We get to the bus 10 minutes early so the bf goes into the convenience store to buy something to eat. Bus arrives right when he goes into the store. I am screaming and waving like a mad woman trying to get his attention because I can't run across the busy street because I have all the bags. In the end I have no choice and run across the busy street with all the bags. Meanwhile bf is trying to choose between muffins or apple tart.

2. We fall asleep on the bus and almost miss the stop.

3. We sit around waiting for our gate to appear on the screen only to find out 20 minutes before our gate closes that we don't find out our gate number until AFTER going through security.

4. We stand in the long security line and I notice a sign that says "Give yourself 40 minutes to get to the gate" (we have 15 minutes left) when I hear someone yell "Has anyone lost a passport?" and realized, it's me who has lost her passport.

5. Bf forgets water in his bag and is delayed at security

6. We finally get through and I quickly check our gate which was gate 2 and we run like madmen down the labyrinth of gates that for some reason go from the highest number to the lowest.

7. I am outrun by bf whose legs are twice as long as mine. While catching my breath I check again the gate number and realize our gate is actually 17 (which we ran past 5 minutes ago) and not 2. I go running down the labyrinth screaming bf's name like a madwoman the second time that day to no avail and have to go to gate 2 to retrieve him least I leave him behind (I seriously considered it).

But alas we made it on to the flight and back in Paris. I was in bed by 9:30 that night.

Never. Again.