A worm died in that apple

I'm not going to spend very long on this because I told myself that I'm not going to spend a long time in front of the computer tonight. The past couple of days I've stayed up at least until one talking to people. Talking is great, but now I'm tired! Plus, tomorrow there is a Fest Noz on campus, and I kinda need to be awake for it.

"Fest noz" in Breton means "night party". It's super traditional for the Bretons. What you do is get everyone in the entire village together under one roof (or just in any area, I guess). A lot of times the best opportunity for this was during a house raising. The reason that was the best opportunity was because the goal of the party was to get everyone to dance the ground flat. They didn't have any bulldozers or fancy stuff to pack the earth down, so the villagers would pull on their huge wooden shoes, designate the band members, and dance the night away.

Our fest noz is tomorrow night from 20h00 to 12h00, which means that when it's over we're going to have to take the 2 line home, and then walk the last twenty minutes home. Well, for me it's 20 minutes. For Jessica and Sophia it'll be at least 35, if not a couple more. But there are a ton of people going, and Jess and Johanna and I are all dressing up (just watch for once the French won't dress up and they'll all be in jeans, haha). So yeah. Cultural experience #452!

Today Johanna found the remnants of a worm hole in her apple. I had just thrown mine out (cause I was done) and as I looked at her apple I felt this inexplicable joy overflow my stomach. My apple did not have wormy residue. It was just a normal, boring reddish thingie. No surprises except for the bruise on the side that felt like a sponge.

I used the apple occurence at dinner tonight to open a conversation about buying naturel foods in their seasons and how finding tiny beasts in fruit proves that it was good for you. Haha...apparently I was shocked by it, and only because I'm American and expect my fruit to be perfect. I tried to explain that I like perfect fruit as in, without bruises. French people don't get that. They were positive that I was still talking about finding the traces of living things in my fruits and veggies. What's funny is that a few seconds afterwards I put a forkfull of salad in my mouth and I could have sworn that I ate dirt along with it.

The rest of the dinner went wonderfully. There was none of the tension that I half expected to experience since everything that happened yesterday. The conversation didn't feel forced at all. Of course, that could be because I spent the better portion of today telling myself that I was going to talk a lot at dinner and tell stories. It felt like I was syking myself up to run 5 miles before breakfast. But no matter. I'm going to turn things around and not care even more.

I wonder how many times I'm going to have to do this? Haha...