Last week it snowed in Montpellier.  School was canceled at the Junior High School.  Yay!

I didn’t have to go to the high school because the students are STILL on strike.  They have been striking since about a week before the holidays.  Apparently nobody wants to return.  Actually, every high school in my town is back in session, except for mine.  I guess future auto and boat mechanics of France really enjoy sleeping in.  Maybe school will be canceled for the rest of the year??  Here’s hoping.

It’s been a while since I’ve written….again.  I haven’t made any New Year’s Resolutions but maybe “updating my blog more regularly” can be one of them.  :p

The holidays passed very eventfully (good events, of course!).  Scott came to see me for three whole weeks!!

In Frankfurt we went to the Christmas Market, fell in love with mulled wine (or gluewein as the Germans say), took a lot of pictures, found one of the last remaining Woolworth’s (and took a picture of it), met up with my German Assistant friend and her boyfriend, ate a lot of sausage, watched a little German television, lost my chapstick in the hotel (my strawberry one, dangit!) and shared a chocolate covered pretzel the size of a dinner plate.

For Christmas Eve and Christmas we stayed in Montpellier and went ice skating and shopping, visited some touristy sites, found a short cut from the tram to the center of town, discovered a fabulous neo-classical quarter just behind the mall, took a picture of a policeman’s dog who had paws like horse hooves, opened presents, relaxed with coffee at a cafe, cooked a HUGE Christmas dinner of chicken, mashed potatoes, broccoli cheese rice casserole, green bean casserole, pasta salad, stuffing, gravy and appetizers of gouda and dried chorizo and bread with olive oil and vinegar, watched a terrible Christmas movie, played plenty of Ploppy, and perfected our own mulled wine.  Yum!

At New Year’s Scott and I went to Barcelona where we partied with some cool Brazilians, bought champagne off the street for 5 euros, made fun of people and got made fun of, ate six grapes at midnight, danced at the Apollo, forgot my coat inside the club and waited 30 minutes in line for it (total shit), avoided the heaps of  smashed bottles in Las Ramblas, saw the majesty of Sagrada Familia, visited Scott’s old house in El Masnou, ate expensive tapas, drank the water and got sick, sipped absinthe at the bar where Hemingway and Picasso hung out, took a million and one pictures and slept on the train ride home.

The holidays were a blast but I suppose all things must come to an end.  Scott went home on Tuesday and I went back to work…another day another euro.