Being Willy Wonka

As most of you know, my family has a candy company. During the year (January thru Thanksgiving)... its pretty slow around here. Like I've said before - I do arts and crafts, go through the mailing list name by name, and other tasks (like go to every Hobby Lobby in the Harris/Fort Bend county area).

But Christmas is a little different.

CHRISTMAS in my family means starting the Monday after Thanksgiving, my mom, grandmother and I basically move into the factory. We eat breakfast, lunch, dinner and 2am snack here. We go home to sleep and to shower and then are back bright and early for more paperwork fun. This lasts for about 3 weeks... and then it suddenly become eerily quiet. All the candy is gone. The customers leave. The printers slow. And our slightly interesting version of Christmas is done for another year. Christmas DAY itself is spent sleeping and generally vegging - something we were unable to do during the rest of the holiday season. For a long time, no one got presents from Gran and Papa until AFTER Christmas (since they never had time to shop... but then they figured out how to order gifts online).

Some of my favorite memories have been from Christmas though.

When I was little, I remember spending the night here MANY nights. Curling up on a pallet either in my "office" or under a table while my mom and grandmother made baskets, printed orders, and hand wrote every single greeting card. I would wake up in the middle of the night to them slightly delirious from sleep deprivation and hysterically laughing at something... like Gran pronouncing "Hanukkah", "Cha-NU-kah."  

One Christmas I invented a game I liked to refer to as "Moving Christmas Tree." Basically I found some material with Christmas trees on it, and I put it over my head and would move around and they would have to catch me moving. Like my own personal version of Red Light/Green Light. 

I would play with the shrink wrap machine and make myself shoes out of plastic (feel free to start mocking me anytime now). Everything was done by them and by hand. I think this was also around the time that I learned how to sleep anywhere (a skill that I believe will take me far in life).

But Christmas was always special... as we would make the trek back home every night around midnight or later, my mom and I would sing every Christmas carol we could think of and just laugh.

I guess it wasn't till I was much older that I realized that my Christmas was somehow different from the standard gingerbread cookies, relaxing in front of the fire, reading The Night Before Christmas scene from movies.  And now, I wouldn't have it any other way.  I may not have a white Christmas, but its still a time spent with family, enjoying each other's company, eating together (even if its fast food), and laughing about anything and everything.  We exchange hot chocolate for coffee, and chocolate covered pecans (or in my case, chocolate covered pretzels) for cookies.  But Christmas is truly, the most wonderful time of the year.

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I've Got a Golden Ticket

I finally bought my ONE WAY ticket to Paris.

Talk about scary.

I know that it won't really sink in until I'm on the plane. (I'm not above having a minor breakdown in the middle of an airport.) As I was driving to the airport last summer, my mind was reeling, and I ended up getting a nose bleed. Maybe because I knew that it would be the end of my long-term relationship. Or because I knew it would be the beginning of something incredible. Who says you can't have a physiological reaction to a psychological epiphany?

But at the same time, I knew I was going to return. I had an end date. I had a future plan. Now? Who knows? If anything, I've learned that future plans are just smoke. Ephemeral. Its good to look to the future but to never count on anything.

For a long time, I've had a certain rule in dating: No planning into the future more than the amount of time you've been dating. If you've been dating 1 week, you can plan as far as the next weekend. 1 month, etc. It seems to work fairly well. I wonder if there's a way to apply the same principle to my life?

I guess on one hand, that should make me really really nervous - my lack of plan. Being the extreme organizer that I am. (Many of you can vouch for my obsession with Google Calendars.) But all I can feel is excitement! In my new found freedom from all plans, I have the ability to take advantage of any and every opportunity that comes my way.

Here's to hoping it works out. :-P

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An Exercise in Estrangement

I have now been phone-less for almost 6 days.

Rather than detailing the events leading up to this loss of what some may consider a part of myself or an extension of my arm, I would rather wax eloquent on the overall effects of this situation.

25 years ago, cells phones were merely a figment of the imagination.

Then Zack Morris starts carrying around his brick.

Now... I cannot function without a cell phone. I dance with it, sleep with it, and have occasionally showered with it. If its not in my hand, its in my pocket or on the table. We have a special (if not very unhealthy) relationship. Especially since I've come back from Europe and realized that I can text/call anyone I want, and I don't have to worry about ever running out of minutes.

So being without it has been... interesting. Not that this is the first time that my phone has been inexplicably separated from me (someone stepped on it once.) But... it is still tramatic none the less.

For one thing, I don't really feel safe without it. Ever since my car broke down in the middle of a semi-abandonned freeway and my cell phone was dead, I feel vulnerable if its not in perfect working order. So that's excuse #1 for always having it with me.

But on the up side - not having a phone allows you to kinda "check out" of the real world for a while. Maybe get your priorities straight. (And you have a legitimate excuse to ignore all phone calls.)

I've used my cell to walk unimpeded through the MSC during campaign week. Or to find my way out of Montparnasse in the middle of the night. What better reason to always have it with you? So although this week has been a chance for me to reevaluate my attachment to my cell phone, I don't plan on trying it again any time soon.

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My 5 Month Vacation

So its been a long time since I've posted... in the next few days I'm going to try to post more pics from this summer, plus a recap of my last few weeks in Paris... but until then, let me catch you up on what I'm up to.

First of all, I am considering this time in Houston as a vacation. Or exile. Or both - at the same time... depending on my mood. At first it was nice to relax, then it was tedious... now its nothing short of maddening. I am not the kind of person that can take sitting still for long periods of time with relatively little to do without going mildly insane.

The nice thing is that I have realized that I have a lot of friends from college here, and that Houston is not quite the boring place that I once thought it was. So although technically I am living with my parents (for the longest period of time since I graduated high school), I have acually moved into some friends' apartment in West U.  Thank you Liz and Bekah for the key and allowing me to crash on your couch for the majority of the week.

The candy factory (www.sweettasteoftexas.com) is slow. I've watched a lot of movies while doing arts and crafts and waiting for the Christmas season rush. But mostly its just arts and crafts... last week I was playing with glitter. Glitter is the herpes of craft supplies.  It gets on everything and spreads and doesn't come off.  Ever.

But mostly my life is spent waiting. Waiting for... something. An email. A phone call. Time to pass. Its like watching an egg boil... it won't happen if you're conscious of the time passing, because it always goes more slowly when you're aware of it. I'm trying to amuse myself the best I can... reading, movies, friends, and my various other hobbies. But mostly, I feel like I'm just treading water. I can't really start a life here in Houston because I'm not really here. I'm just passing through... on my way to somewhere else. Yet, I am here; and I believe that you need to BE where you are and not looking for or wishing you were someplace else.  It's incredibly frustrating.

So that's my life at the moment.

In regards to my plans, I'm not sure if backpacking before I start work is going to happen. Mostly because of the money thing... but I'm sure that I'll be traveling more than I did last summer. But I will be in Paris from February to November.

Sometimes when I think of that time period I get this giddy excited feeling... and then again, sometime I feel panicked and trapped. I remember the francophone bubble. I remember the emotional breakdown of my last week. I remember the feelings of claustrophobia. But then again, I remember the sunsets and the exploring... the cool air, the breathtaking views.  The ADVENTURE of it all.  So although I'm terrified, I feel like I need to do this.  For me.

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Deep Thoughts

So... as I'm sitting here contemplating my time here in Paris, I've come up with a few jewels of wisdom that I'd like to pass on to posterity:

1) Water-resistant is not the same as waterproof. 

• Date learned:  the day after I got to Paris and realized that although my jacket kept me from getting wet IMMEDIATELY... it did not stop me from getting wet EVENTUALLY.
  

2) When in doubt, say it with confidence.

• The tour guide's motto...  and no one ever doubts a tour guide :-P

3) Skip the line, take the stairs.

• Date learned:  The day I picked the shortest line to get up the Eiffel Tower and realized that it was the stairs. Ouch.
• Also courtesy of: Mike Franz

4) There's no such thing as too much ice cream (bread, gelato, cheese.)

• This can also be translated to: I count the day wasted if I have not had gelato.

5) PB&J and a bottle of water do not a picnic make

• Date learned:  The day Liz and I went to Versailles and bought enough food for a small army.

6) Look good. Don't die.

• Courtesy of:  A really cool high school boy from one of my Segway tours.  He ended this phrase with, "And if you have to die, look good doing it."  Very apropos for the ridiculousness that happens on the streets of Paris.

7) Here's to the brie.  It's better than cheddar.

• Substitute "cheddar" with Borsin, Roquefort, Camembert, Gouda au Cumin, Comte du Fruit, Chevre... aka... I've become a cheese snob.

8) Motto on fixing bikes:  Sometimes it works - sometimes you break it more and end up running

• If you were to ask Devin, his motto would be, "Kassie, stay away!"

9) Take time for yourself.

• I think this is going to be an important lesson for me in the coming year.  I have a tendency to be a workaholic - but I need to take some downtime.  Maybe even a few vacations... what a novel idea?!

Anyway... so that's what I have taken away from this summer.  I'd love to hear anyone else's personal words of wisdom too.  And I also just want to say thank you to everyone who has supported me through this entire summer - I can't tell you how much your words of encouragement have helped me.  I love you all.

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Portrait of a Fat Tire Employee

I've heard it said that people come into our lives for a reason brining something we must learn. And we are led to those who help us most to grow if we let them, and we help them in return. Well I don't know if I believe that's true, but I know I'm who I am today because I knew you... Because I knew you, I have been changed for good. - Wicked

So not only have I learned an incredible amount this summer, I found a new Parisian family. It started with the spring guides who gave me words of wisdom that I have only now begun to understand. Then continued with my training class (FTBT-TC208) who laughed with me, drank with me (when we could afford it), and supported me through an unbelievably challenging summer. Finally, it ended with the new fall class - they have so much to look forward to, and they will change more than they ever can possibly realize.

But when I think about all of us, I wonder if there is a common thread. Among the guides? Among the office staff? So here is my conclusion: We are outgoing, intelligent, sophisticated adventurers. We are tall (or short), boy (girl), strong (out of shape), loud (quiet?), Texans (Californians, Mississippi-ites, Alabamians?), Aggies (Longhorns, Red Raiders... Auburn, Ole Miss, UNC, Stanford), and Francophiles (franco-what?). We read too much, talk too loud, and party too late. We are sleep-deprived caffeine addicts. We miss home, but home is with each other. We make French history jokes. We wear DOW-JONES rally caps. We are unequivocally green. We are liberal (or conservative). We smoke hookah, get in fights, drink wine at 2pm, and stuff ourselves with cheese. We argue with each other. (We secretly hate all Australians.) We laugh, cry, and ride bicycles. We are animated... dry... nerdy... sarcastic... and over-the-top.

In short, there is no stereotype, there is no perfect tour guide. We have the southern gentlemen and the caustic New Yorker. We fix bikes (or break them). But we are all in it together. Everyday is a new day in Paris. Everyday is the best day of my life.

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The Triples Challenge (aka Kassie's Breakdown)

Overall, I would have to say that I have worked harder this summer than I ever have in my entire life.  This job is stressful, the hours are long, and its virtually impossible to have a normal life.   Yet I would not change one second of it. Now... that being said, right before Franz left for Austin to train the fall class of guides for another season, he decided that it would be interesting to count just how many triples each of us had worked.  And what do you know... I was winning.  But not far behind me were Kregg, John P., Leach, and Chris.

So, add in the fact that we were incredibly understaffed those last 2 weeks, Franz decides to make things a little more interesting.  Whoever works the most triples by the time he gets back (in 1 week) is going to get a prize.  Sounds good right?  And then lets stop and think about this... we're burnt out... every single one of us.  BUT propose a competition between a bunch of type A personalities and suddenly everyone is willing to work twice as hard again just to WIN!!! Subtle.

But... unfortunately for everyone else, I was so far ahead by this point that even with the boys working on their days off, they still couldn't catch up... so it wasn't much of a competition.  18 triples in 3 months.  I was told that I may be the runner up for the Fat Tire record... Blakely (the guy with the most) has a bike named after him.  Maybe someday I'll earn that honor.

So my prize?  Not quite 100 euros... but almost as good.  Franz brought me a real life Freebirds burrito - basically he froze it and let it thaw in his suitcase on the flight over.  My first Mexican food in 3 months... I could have died right then.  Best meal ever.

Now fast-forward to the next day - I woke up feeling... claustrophobic.  And unusually tired.  But I had another triple that day, so what could I do?  I had my morning Coca-Light and a cafe creme as lunch; but when I was done with my first walking tour, I was still exhausted.  Usually that much caffeine will KINDA wake me up.  I tried to take a 15 minute nap between tours, but I was so tired I couldn't sleep.  What a miserable feeling... and that claustrophobic feeling was only getting worse.  

But I was 3pm bike #1 - and as I was walking out the door, Leach (3pm #2) asked if I was doing ok and if I wanted him to go to the Tower for me  (I must have looked pretty bad.)  I said no, but I wasn't sure if I could do another triple that day.  So I left the shop and started walking... by the time I got to the courtyard behind the shop, I was in a full out nervous breakdown... sobbing, hyperventilating... the whole nine-yards.  There was no way I could go - so I called him up, and he ran to meet me and calmed me down.  

So I made it through tour #2 with the help of Leach, another Coca-Light, and a cafe creme.  And then there was night bike... I think I got back from my 3pm tour and I had to immediately turn around and run to the Tower.  As I walked out the door to grab a bike, I started to cry again.  Devin (our bike mechanic) looked at me and asked if I was ok... I think my response between tears and clenched teeth was, "No... but there's nothing I can do about it."  When I got back to the shop again, I was still crying... Lisa had to yell at me to snap me out of it.  Another Coca-Light later (as you can tell, I cannot survive without caffeine), and I had made it through night bike.  Not only that, but Heather was at the shop waiting for me when I rolled in at 12:30am with my favorite bottle of rose.  I have never needed a glass of wine so badly.

So although I won the triples challenge, I think my mental stability suffered a huge blow.  19 triples.  Lisa later told me that she was sorry she had to yell at me to shape up (I understood the reason why), but that I had accomplished what most boys couldn't... what most people couldn't.  And from her, I took that as a huge compliment.  I may not be working as many tours now (I think Franz is trying to keep me sane), but I now know my breaking point, and this kinda scares me.  I didn't think I had one.

I can't deny it... I'm scared about working here for another year.  I'm scared about not being able to go on... to have another day like that one.  That was by far the worst day in Paris.  Looking back now, I realize how strong I've been this summer... but I need a break.  I need to forget about that day and just remember the good times and the fun I've had.  Because that's what makes doing this worthwhile.  That's what makes it fun to get up and be excited day after day.

How can I sit in a cubicle after a summer like this? My bike is my desk, and Paris is my office.

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