You can take the girl of Iowa...

Before we begin, let's all give a birthday shout-out to Miss Madison Jerde! Happy 20th, girlie!


I remember the first time I went to a state fair. (Dream sequence music as I sigh nostalgically...)

'Twas only a few summers ago. My family and I had just moved to Nebraska from Washington D.C. Wanting to get the real "Mid-West" experience, my parents decided that our summer vacation would be to Iowa for the state fair. Turns out, state fairs suck. It was hot and humid, which contributed to the not-so-pleasant smell of bovine fecal matter. My mom kept insisting we see some cow made of butter, I got sick after a bite of a deep-fried Twinkie, and I ran out of money before I could ride the camel.

However, after living and going to school in Iowa for a year and a half, I have grown to appreciate the beauty of the state fair. Heck, this year I even willingly attended! It's hot and humid, but that just means you don't have to shower before you go, and no one will notice over the smell of the cows. Butter cows are awesome, especially if they're accompanied by Harry Potter (don't believe me?). Deep-fried Twinkies are DELICIOUS, but you have to pace yourself, especially if you want to ride a camel at the end of the day.

Iowa culture is a bit different than France's, to say the least. However, if there's one thing I've learned about the universality of human nature since coming to France it's this: Everyone loves a good fair. Even the French.

You heard right, ladies and gentlemen, there is such thing as a state fair in France! Now, it's not actually called that, but it's the same idea. The Salon international de l'argriculture was one of my favorite parts of France thus far!

Even wore my Iowa State t-shirt. Fit right in.

It has all the perks of a normal state fair, like petting zoos, food, and fun shops, BUT it's inside. AND there's free food. AND it's really good. Like, really good. Gelato, anyone? Yeah, really good.

Katie, Jasmine and I walked around, petting animals and practicing our French. The gelato man was really nice, and asked where we from. He hadn't heard of Iowa, but it was pretty easy to describe given our current location...

Also, animals in France are HUGE. I looked like such a tourist, taking pictures of every animal I saw, but I figured that my t-shirt gave me away already.

And FOOD.

Also, some people on stilts tried to chase us and eat our food. I love France.

À Bietôt, tout le monde!

Les Pooches of Paris

I don’t know where 101 Dalmatians was set, but if it’s not Paris, it should be. I’ve only seen 1 Dalmatian thus far, but in the week I’ve been here, I’m certain I’ve seen at least 100 other dogs. On the street, in the métro, even in some posh shops, Parisians don’t seem to have any restrictions on where dogs are allowed to roam.

And in true Evie style, I have pictures to prove it! A note to the wise: the French don’t seem to take well to strangers taking pictures of their hounds.

Exhibit A:

One time I had to ask a lady who brought her dog into Target with her to leave. This was not only a little awkward, but completely heart breaking since it was a little miniature dachshund! If there were Targets in Paris, they would simply ignore this bullet in the guidebook. I saw this woman entering ZARA in the Champs-Élysées the other day. The Champs-Élysées is one of the most posh parts of Paris. I had never seen a Catier, or Louis Vuiton store in person before, but the Champs-Élysées of course had both. I was nervous to touch, or even breath on any of the expensive merchandise, when in walks a lady with her adorable little terrier. I had to snap a picture, which elicited me a glare, but it was worth it. What a cutie!

Exhibit B:

I met this sweet little guy on our way back from Versailles on the RER, (the railway that takes you in and out of Paris). I learned from previous experience to ask before taking a picture. His owner seemed to think it a little odd, but helped him pose none-the-less. The French don’t seem to mind dogs on the train, but be warned: Feet on the seats will earn you a 45 € fine!

Exhibit C:

The one exception: Cafés! Parisians don’t seem to like to have animals in the same places they eat, which I suppose is understandable.

Violà! There you go. In the first week, I have realized just how incredible Paris is! I love everything about this city, from the architecture, to the people, even the public transit. The fact that dogs are allowed almost everywhere just tells me that this is the perfect city for me... and that I should have snuck Bosco on to my flight.

À Bietôt!

Good bye? Good cry! (Ba-da chh!)

Sitting in Chicago's O'Hare International Airport, watching a full-length live-action version of Toy Story on YouTube. 

You can read every study abroad handbook, all your orientation materials, and even witty blogs online, but nothing prepares you for saying goodbye, (but witty blogs with clever rhyming titles are hilarious and fun, so keep reading them…). It’s the last thing on everyone’s mind: you think about taking pictures under the Eiffel Tower, having wine by the Seine, and kis-… talking to cute French boys, but you don’t think about saying goodbye. Of course I knew my parents weren’t coming to France, but actually realizing I’d have to make my own breakfast and start using a real alarm clock again was tough. Oh yeah, and I’ll like… miss them and stuff…

After the customary farewell photo, hugs and kisses commenced. I thought I was fine, until mid-hug, my mom took in a dramatic, shaky breath… and then, through no fault of my own, I started crying… perfusely. Thanks a lot, mom.

To combat future embarrassing public displays of what I like to refer to as, “Au revoir Ailments,” I propose these useful tips:

 1. Buy your parents a human-sized Kennel.

I didn’t even say goodbye to my dogs. This is a big deal for me—especially since I get separation anxiety when they go to the groomer. I put them away an hour before I left, and went on my merry way, distracting myself with the latest episode of Kourtney and Kim take Miami. I gave them a bone, and ignored the puddles of precious that stared up at me for an hour… If only I could forego saying goodbye to my parents and substitute it with quality entertainment! Plus, they can’t get into any trouble while I’m gone if they’re locked up in cages. Problem. Solved.

      2. Don’t look back!

After saying goodbye and making the long walk down to security, I had finally composed myself. And, needless to say, after being groped, poked and prodded, my tear ducts were as likely to produce tears as Janet Jackson performing the halftime show at the SuperBowl tonight. That changed, however, when I turned to give my parents one last wave. Again, I blame my mother. I always cry when I see someone crying. At this point, my make up was resembling the Joker at the end of the second Batman movie. That being said…

3    3.  Wear waterproof mascara!

Use your imagination.

Exhibit A

4    4.  Think about how you’re on your way to Paris, and about to have buckets of foreign fun!

      Definitely the best medicine: Distraction! Well, that and running to the bathroom to fix the monstrocity that is now your face and pretending that no one saw you cry.

Crushed it.

À Bientôt!