Hair, Voltaire

They say the more you change your hair, the more issues you have. Another way of putting it, which I learned through my mother who read it online, is that people who change their hair a lot do so because they feel it is one of the only things they can control in their lives. I have changed my hair about 16 times, only including hair color switches and one major cut. Oops.

I don’t know if these theories are true, but I do know that I love changing my hair. If I could I’d get extensions and then switch to a bob the week after. I’ve had red, blue, purple, pink, and bleached ends before. I’ve had red, purple, blonde, brown, and now dark burgundy colored hair. I didn’t do anything with my hair last summer so I spent around $200 to get purple hair in the fall…which turned into fried white blonde. So at this point my hair has about 1/3 recovered and my mother is about 50% less mad.

But can I say, “Hair, Voltaire? I’d rather discuss Voltaire” (hello Princess Diaries!). I change my hair for me, for fun, for la joie de vivre! It’s cool if you don’t like my hair – sometimes don’t like my hair. And that’s life yall. Sometimes my hair reflects a change in my life, sometimes it means I’m bored, sometimes it means absolutely nothing. So yeah, last week I cut my own bangs that I don’t even wear today. C’est la vie!

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A German on The Jersey Turnpike

In 2014 I spent the summer working at a camp in New York with staff from all over the world. The camp was about two hours from NYC and was structured so that all staff got a week off in the middle of the summer. Basically they forced us off camp for a week with nowhere to go, so we made the best of it and chose to live it up during our week without evil children. I had made a few really great friends, so a few of us made random last minute plans for the week, starting with a few days in NYC. I planned the week trip with my best friend from Germany, let’s call her Elsa. Our other friend, let’s call her Candy, planned to be with us for the first half of the trip.

So Candy drove us from camp to the city where we had booked a hotel on the edge of Brooklyn (with free parking!) just a few hours ago. We’re great planners. Anyways, we had fun being tourists in the city and hanging on our roof at night looking at Manhattan. We left after two nights for Philadelphia, with our friend Oliver joining this leg of the trip. We were going to drive Candy’s car to the house of someone I connected with on Couchsurfing. However, Candy was a bit under the weather and really needed to sleep in the car. I didn’t have a license, and Oliver only had a NY limited permit. That left Elsa, who had a German license but had never driven in America before. Elsa was very hesitant, as she had only been in the US for a month and was a bit frazzled from being with demon children during that time. But after a bit of convincing, Elsa agreed because Candy was already falling asleep.

So Candy took a nap in the front seat while Oliver and I squeezed into the back among all of the luggage, promising Elsa we’d help her navigate. She was nervous but we promised she’d only have to drive on this one road – The Jersey Turnpike. I mean, we were a bit nervous as well, but we knew the worst outcome would end with us not returning to camp, and in our hearts we accepted that and left it up to fate. Somewhere in Jersey the GPS voice lulled me to sleep, and I was only vaguely conscious when we stopped at a toll. I woke up and Candy soon followed. However, we had unknowingly lied to Elsa, as we made her navigate the way into Philly so we could eat lunch. The lunch was meh. Candy took over driving in Philly and to DC later on. Elsa may or may not have been permanently scarred by this event.

We all lived through this experience and “Elsa” and I are planning to meet up this summer. But no worries, she’ll be taking the train, not driving.

All or Nothing


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With me, it’s all or nothing. Oklahoma anyone? But truly, I’m an all or nothing kind of gal. If I do something, I go all in. I’m pretty sure that if I accidentally stole an orange I’d turn into a full on kleptomaniac. Joking aside, my all or nothing attitude has been both a blessing and a curse (okay, curse is a little dramatic).

In my relationships, I either want to hang out with you all the time, or never. If I don’t see or hear from you for a long time, I’ll forget about you. I don’t say this because I’m callous, but because I’m honestly forgetful; at the same time, I want to give more to the relationships that I can give to. Basically I’d rather hang out with someone who can hang with me everyday over someone who can only hang once every two weeks.

This makes it difficult for me to date, because if I feel “meh” about you on the first date I’ll probably just forget you exist. On the other hand, if I really like you I might come across as clingy…or maybe even a tiny bit creepy. I don’t mean it, I just like to show the people I like that I like them…a lot.

With school, this means I’ll either spend one hour or one week on a project; there’s no in between. I either hate a class or love it. Every professor is my favorite or my least favorite. I’ll either read the whole textbook or none of it.

If I decide I want to do something, I’ll do it or go crazy trying to do so. I’ve wasted hours and hours on study abroad programs, scholarships, schools to transfer into, trips to take, jobs to apply for, projects to audition for, and many more things that never happened. I become obsessed with my next big thing, whether it be a birthday trip to NYC (didn’t happen) or studying abroad in London (also didn’t happen).

But my all or nothing attitude has also served me well. I got my first ever movie “role” (as an extra, not anything fancy guys) through really weird circumstances. I found an article in our paper about the movie filming nearby and decided that I, little freshman in high school Celina, was going to be in this movie. Long story short, I emailed the director and convinced my whole family to drive to the mountains and be extras in a random indie film.

My all or nothing attitude also got me my first paid writing gig, out of school for two weeks my senior year of high school to film, and living in Manhattan last summer. And now my all or nothing-ness has landed me a job right after graduation exactly where I wanted – Paris! So even though my all or nothing life is a bit crazy, crazy can be good. Crazy can be PARIS yall!

So follow your crazy! Feel free to comment below with what that is so we can cheer each other on…and make sure we aren’t too crazy 😉

Some [Crazy] Goals for Paris

Although I am a bit scared for my move to France, I am also extremely excited. I want to make the most of my time abroad (which will be at least one year, but could be extended for who knows how long). So I’ve compiled a list of things (some a bit crazy) to do in Paris!

  • Have someone mistake me as a Parisian and ask me for directions
  • Sneak into the secret parts of the catacombs without dying
  • Go to a wine bar and act snooty
  • Somehow get into crazy exclusive parties/events/clubs
  • Get mistaken for a celebrity
  • Meet some famous people who I don’t know are famous but we become best friends
  • Act in a French movie that gets crazy popular
  • Find a cafe to write in that becomes “my cafe”
  • Dream in French
  • Adopt a cat and name him or her “Bisou”
  • Throw a party
  • Travel around Europe
  • Fall in love – with Paris, a guy, baguettes, who knows?
  • Make amazing friends from all over the world
  • Teach my au pair child Taylor Swift songs
  • Buy and wear a beret
  • Become an actual celebrity in France for something weird, like my new cat Bisou can talk.
  • Sit in a fancy hotel lobby and pretend to wait for someone.
  • Have my family visit me
  • Climb the first half of the Eiffel but also take the elevator to the top
  • Convince my au pair family to name their next child “Talullah”
  • Have a cheese picnic. Just cheese.
  • Go viral for something France-related. Like me falling in the Seine on or something else normal.
  • Become an actual Parisian
  • Stay in Paris forever?

Do you have any other suggestions? Au revoir!

My Roommate Is Not What You Decide She Is

If you’re in college or are a millennial adult, you’ve probably heard of Yik Yak, an anonymous social media app. You can post anything about anything…or anyone. There are very few ways to use it in a way that spreads positive vibes. It’s basically a free for all for cyber bullying and name calling.

Yesterday my roommate was alerted by a friend that someone had called her out on Yik Yak. She was sent a screenshot of an anonymous person insulting her. Luckily it was rather quickly downvoted, leading to its removal. But sadly, this was not an isolated event. Last year a different friend and I were both mentioned in a list of people who were all classified as “thirsty.” For people who don’t know, most people define people who are thirsty as people who are desperate for a relationship/hook up/etc. My friend who was on that list with me is one of the nicest people I know, and she did not deserve this.

It is sad that I now feel the need to defend myself and my friend. I should not have to prove to anyone that I am not something they say I am, or that my friends are humans who deserve respect. My roommate should not have to remind herself that she is beautiful; she should not have to see someone publicly shame her for no reason. My friend on the list with me should not have to wonder who thought she seemed to fit the bill of that attribute. I should not have to get angry about someone insulting my best friends, the most kind and beautiful people I know.

No one should have to stare at a screen wondering why an anonymous person thought they had the right to make someone feel bad about themselves. I shouldn’t have to ask friends if they put me on the list as a joke (because at least if that were true I could have laughed). I want so badly to find the person who wrote these things, to tell them that their words did not go unheard, oh no, they sunk into our skins. They seeped into our brains, into our thought process. Their words made us question our bodies, our clothes, our words.

So to you, anonymous person: I would love to hit you, to yell at you, to trip you in the hallway. But I won’t. Because I’m not like you; I hope I never am. So I hope that your life starts to look up so you don’t have to hide behind a screen and hurt people anymore. I hope you realize the impact of your words and find it in you to feel bad about them. Because my roommate is not what you decide she is.

My Awkward Freshman Kind-of-Stalker

At the beginning of freshman year I had an almost kind of stalker. Let’s call him Randy. Randy and I met during orientation week. We were both mingling around our department table, which was history at the time because I started as an international studies major (funny, I know). So Randy approached me and extended his dead fish hand, which I shook politely. His eyes also reminded me of a dead fish. I’m not even being mean, he was just an all around dead fish guy. He said he was a transfer and blah blah I don’t remember what else. I said bye and peaced out, not thinking about him again. Until we had a class together.

I decided to sit in the back of class and he saw me and came over to join me. We didn’t really talk that much, we just sat next to each other in the back row. He was EXTREMELY awkward, almost painfully so, so I never made plans to hang out with him outside of class. But he kept hinting at me eating lunch with him. Somehow we ended up seeing each other at the club fair during one of the first weeks of school. He came over and kind of followed me while I tried to avoid him. When I was leaving he followed me and my roommate and invited me to eat lunch with him at the school cafe. I said something lame like, “Oh darn, I have to eat my mac n cheese.” He then said something like “You probably don’t, but do you want my number?” and obviously I couldn’t say no without looking like a jerk.

You’re probably thinking, “Celina, just don’t text him.” But I thought I was being nice to the awkward transfer student. So I made the mistake of texting him “hey it’s Celina.” He proceeded to text me non stop with 3 paragraph long texts. He told me about boxing and his brother and I reply with “that’s cool.” But let’s get real, there was no way he was actually boxing. Anyways, he kept inviting me to things and was consistent in the non-stop texts. The text that finally made me take action was one that mentioned our school’s Christmas ball. RED FLAG! He was trying to ask me to the CHRISTMAS Ball in AUGUST.

So the logical thing to do was ignore him all weekend while I was at home and work on a plan. This was literally the third weekend of school, I had known him for less than a month and he wanted to date me (or maybe just follow me?). On Monday I had a plan – a fake boyfriend! So when he texted on Monday I simply replied, “Sorry, can’t talk right now I’m Skyping my boyfriend in California.” And it worked! We didn’t say one word to each other after that and I began to sit next to a new friend in class.

So if you have a freshmen kind of stalker just tell him you have to Skype your fake boyfriend. Mine is named Jean-Luc and currently lives in Montreal. Moral of the story: get a fake boyfriend and don’t let dead fish guys follow you.

I Forgot How To Adult

In the past two days I have forgotten about two jobs, causing me to be 45 minutes late to one and absent for another. I have never, ever forgotten to show up for a job. Ever. After I forgot the first, I apologized and figured it was a fluke. I felt awful about it but knew that the only thing to do about spilled milk is to clean it up and move on. However, the next day I completely forgot and slept through a gig that I do every month – my head was not in the game yall.

So where does this leave me? Well after everything I sobbed for a bit yesterday and ate some ice cream. It might not seem like a big thing, but forgetting not one, but two jobs where people depended on me really tore me up. I hate letting people down, especially when it’s 100% my fault.

So let me admit it: I messed up. I forgot how to adult for a few days. But that’s okay. I have apologized to the involved parties and moved on. I took responsibility for my actions and forgiven myself. I am determined to put everything in my planner and be a bit more organized (I’m not going to be delusional and pretend I’ll be 100% organized now). I am moving on and letting go of my two mess up days.

So next time you mess up, clean it up and move on. Let’s promise each other we’ll forgive ourselves and work to do better in the future.

My 5th Grade Almost Boyfriend

My fifth grade almost boyfriend sat next to me in the special nerd classes we went to twice a week. He was a whiz kid at math and science, I was slightly above average at language arts and history. He was sporty and I was dramatic. We played basketball in gym class one day and I traveled with the ball, which I thought made us Troy and Gabriella.

One time on a day that we had nerd class, he leaned over to talk to me and sort of put his arm on my chair, which set my fifth grade heart aflutter. After class, his friend told me he liked me. In my mind I was elated – my crush of four years finally notices me! So logically I told his friend that I didn’t like him and that he was gross. I passed him on the track outside later. I don’t really remember our friendship much after that.

Later on he dated a girl from the grade below us and then moved away. I asked if we could be pen pals and wrote him a note confessing my crush, but he never replied. I even messaged him on Facebook quite a few years ago on Facebook. Yes, I know that’s creepy.

I remember clearly that when my fifth grade almost boyfriend’s friend told me he liked me I was scared it was a trick. How could someone who I’d dreamed about for years finally be real, be interested? I don’t think I wanted reality. I just wanted a boy to pine after. I wanted to be able to imagine fantastical situations instead of actually experiencing a possibly disappointing reality.

Even now I often prefer fantasy to reality – who needs practicality? But I’m not in fifth grade anymore, and imaginations aren’t enough. I’m going to live life, no matter how boring or scary it gets. So here goes nothing:

Dear Fifth Grade Almost Boyfriend,

I like you.

Sincerely,

Fifth Grade Celina (who had really bad bangs and Harry Potter glasses)

 

How To Find an Au Pair Position in Paris

I don’t usually do “how to” posts, but I have seen a definite lack of useful how to posts regarding au pairing (specifically in Paris). Obviously I don’t know everything, but hopefully this will help make your search easier. Here’s what I’ve learned since starting my search a few days after Christmas to saying yes to my family on January 10th.

  • Either pick an agency of your choice or join aupairworld.com. You don’t need any other sites. I wasted my time joining probably 6 other sites, none of which were necessary or led to any results other than spam emails. I didn’t use an agency, but Au Pair Paris seems to have good reviews if you’re looking to go with an agency, which I think is unnecessary unless you really want to use an agency. Aupairworld.com is free (to the au pair) and amazing.
  • Put ALL of your experience on your profile; babysitting. retail jobs, language skills, hobbies/talents, education, certifications, etc. Make it easily accessible to the family.
  • Add good quality photos. No selfies. Use a school photo or headshot. Add pictures of you with the children you have babysat. Add photos of you and your family.
  • Be specific with location. If you want to work in Paris, put that on your profile. The suburbs can be nice, but the Paris metro closes at night, and if you end up living an hour subway trip away, that could mean you leaving the city at 10pm on your night off.
  • Don’t be afraid to reach out to families first. Make a basic first message and personalize it a bit for each family.
  • Know your profile weaknesses. If you’re under 21, not from the EU, and can’t drive, your options may be slightly more limited (from my experience). Play up your strengths. Also utilize the search option under the “for au pairs” tab – it allows you to search by country without limiting families by driving requirement, age requirement, and date/length of stay. If you are about to turn 20, use this search to find people looking for a 20 year old, as they currently can’t see your profile.
  • Don’t get discouraged. I got a lot of rejections and few positive messages. It all depends on when you’re searching, when you’re available, etc.
  • DO NOT GIVE UP. I am a very impatient person and was quick to get  discouraged after a few days without responses. Just be patient, I promise someone will message you!
  • After messaging with families, SKYPE! This is how you make sure they are, in fact, real people. You can also see how you click with the parents and children. Treat this like a job interview; fix your hair, wear a nice shirt, make sure your room is clean, wear pearls. That last one is optional, but I actually wore pearls when Skyping with my family, and I think they appreciated that I took care with my appearance. Families in Paris want to make sure their au pair is not only classy, but that they will be able to fit in in Paris.
  • Continue messaging families no matter how your Skype conversation went. Keep your options open and get your mind off the perfect (or maybe not-so-perfect) family you Skyped with. Skype with some other families if you so desire.
  • Send the family(familes) with whom you Skype your references. It’ll show that you have chutzpah.
  • Skype again. Yep, Skype again before/when you say yes.
  • Skype while you work out contract details. Make sure you read the entire contract and both parties are aware of everything.
  • Get to work on your visa! I might write another post about the visa process, so let me know if you’d be interested in that!

Hopefully this helps you with your search! If you find an au pair position in Paris, let me know so we can meet up! Also feel free to ask questions in the comments, au revoir!

Laundry Day

Today is laundry day, which means I ran out of underwear. Today I’ve thought about all the places I’ve done laundry.

Whenever I’m home with my family I get to do laundry inside, at my house, without having to drive or walk to the washer and dryer, which is honestly a super big privilege.

My first years at college I did laundry in our dorms. During freshmen year I overloaded a washer and housekeeping left me a mean note. Last year my roommate and I would move guys’ laundry after it sat in the washers for hours.

Two summers ago I did laundry with my friends from all over the world at a rinky dink laundromat near the camp we were working at in upstate NY. We all crammed into the staff van and rode down the hill to the town below that included a Walmart and our hangout diner.

Last summer I did laundry a block down from my apartment in the West Village in Manhattan. I would walk with my students, or with my coworkers/friends, or by myself. It was a beautiful one minute walk, and I miss it.

This year I walk for a couple of minutes from my apartment to a huge community laundry room that I rarely have to wait around in.

Perhaps during my year in Paris I’ll find another laundromat to call home. The washers probably won’t bang around like my washer at home. I’m sure it won’t be free like it has been for me here at school. It won’t be full of middle school ballerinas or camp counselors. But it will be a constant in my new world, a little piece of home away from home.