Ready to Wear

Today I went shopping for warm winter clothes in downtown Tours (Thanks, Meghan!).  I bought a pair of boots with fur lining, some (fabulous) bright green fingerless wool gloves with mitten flaps, and navy blue low top Asics (not especially warm, but will *for sure* help me go undetected as a foreigner in far more social situations - that is - until I open my big American mouth to talk or laugh abnormally loudly).  Haha!

Since today was the first day of real winter weather (ie in the negative numbers, fyi -1°C = 30°F, ex see breath, check, frost doesn't melt, check, need visible confirmation that fingertips still exist, check), this cash gift from my beloved sister arrived just in the nick of time.  And guess what?!?  I only paid...  drum roll please..........................................................  75 euros!  Ah yes, because today I was welcomed into French hand-me-down heaven.  Here they call it Prêt à Porter (Ready to Wear).  One step inside this particular thrift shop and I knew immediately that I had struck second hand store gold.  In fifteen minutes flat I found three completely unique (basically new) items that fit like a charm.  The price was right, but - being the huge cheapskate that I am - that didn't stop me from haggling anyway and getting everything marked down another 15 euros.  Sold!  I wore the boots and the gloves out of the store and a huge dumb smile on my face for the rest of the day.

I'm so warm! ...and, I tell ya, it's getting harder and harder for peeps to pin me as 'not from around here'!  Double score!

Disney Was Right... It's A Small World!

Yesterday, I was walking down the wrong aisle in the grocery store looking for bar soap and some people passed by casually speaking English.  I stopped dead in my tracks and turned around as quickly as I could and just shouted at them "Are you American?!?" like any sane, but slightly lonely and desperate person might.  The couple was Canadian.  Oops?  They were collecting a lost-luggage-esque assortment of items along with an American woman who lives here in Tours.  When I told her I was here playing volleyball, she told me that she met Kelli Smith (THE marathon winning, ass-kicking wife of TVB star middle blocker David Smith) at this very same supermarket under the exact same circumstances (ie totally randomly).  It's a small world after all  ...and it was about to get even smaller.  After chatting for barely five minutes we discovered that we were both invited to the same Thanksgiving dinner.  What?!?  After we picked up the parts of our exploded heads, we said our goodbyes and I found the bar soap at the end of the aerosol deodorant aisle.

I hope you are all looking forward to Thanksgiving.  I know I am!  :)