Well, today’s my birthday. This weekend, I did a little celebrating.

Not that I can do much, knowing so few people here. Saturday, after the feeling of misery reduced me to tears for almost the whole day, I took to writing to understand why I was so miserable.

My unhappiness has nothing to do with France or being in another culture. I love when I am with Margaret or Marie Lucie, conversing while eating a huge variety of cheeses with whatever wine they have opened for the day. I love the area where I live, and I think Paris is a wonderful city. However, whenever I return to the house after these treasured activites, the cloud descends.

Not only is Geraldine, the mom, very condescending, but she is hyper-focused on the little mistakes that I make (which most would not even classify as mistakes). Not once has she thanked me for my extensive work. She considers me to be far beneath her. She leaves her messes from the weekend, expecting me to clean up after her. She never asks me how I’m doing after a long day. She is cold,

Living in a place where you are not recognized or loved is a very difficult thing. I’ve done it once before, and it made me very fragile. I also am a very hard worker, who tries her best in everything, and to be scrutinized of one little thing I did wrong over the extra work I did diminishes my spirit immensely.

Although I have grown attached to the kids, their behavior is still stunning sometimes. They punch and beat each other, curse frequently, and scream and fake-punch furiously at me if I don’t allow them something. They don’t listen to a single instruction, they throw food, and expect me to clean everything. During the sweet moments when they laugh, play, and so clearly demonstrate their need for love an approval in their lives (they don’t get any from parents, except for good grades) I feel a sadness for them. These kids are so vibrant. It makes me sad to see them deteriorating like this.

On Saturday, I felt trapped in my room. The parents were in the house, and would be scrutinizing my moves if I left. I was not really welcome in this place. After breaking down into tears yet again, I realized that it was time to leave. If they are making this experience so horrible for me, there is nothing holding me back from leaving. Yes, financially it will be tight, but emotionally I can’t take it any more.

I discussed this with my parents, and we booked a flight for Thursday to go home.

I feel like a quitter, and believe me, that’s a bad feeling. I am not a person who quits something. I am strong and I push through challenges. But how can I challenge the aura of a house? How can I challenge the ideas and mind frame of a woman who clearly has not gotten the picture when the other 3 au pairs have resigned? It is time to be selfish and honor my self-dignity and my right to happiness.

Apparently, after the other 3 expressed desire to leave, she kicked them out immediately. The Chinese Anne was thrown out on the road at 9pm at night. No cell phone, no bus route, no assistance. Since the family leaves Wednesday night, I have decided to tell her Tuesday and leave Tuesday night. I will offer to stay and work Wednesday. However, then the kids would see me go, and she hates when they cry for a low class servant. The others were kicked out at night, while the kids were asleep.

Sunday, I took my last trip to Paris. I saw the remaining wonders I needed to see: Versailles, the Louvre, and Notre Dame. Unfortunately, my camera ran out of battery at the Louvre. I have no pictures to remember the stunning Notre Dame… unless you count the millions of pictures that surface in a simple google image search.

It was absolutely gorgeous weather, sunny with a little chill. Versailles was enormous, and beautifully impressive. I learned about the porcelain specialty of Sevres (nearby town), the three Louis that lived in the castle, the treaty with Austria that brought Marie Antoinette into our history, her little play village, the majestic gardens, and so much more. I didn’t have time to enter the Louvre, but I did see the enormous pyramids in front. Notre Dame was amazing, but much different than expected. I shopped for souvenirs for an hour, walking away with only two things. I refuse to invest in Eiffel tower gold plated key chains, plastic thimbles depicting bread and a smiling French woman, or condoms stamped “I Love Paris.”

All the other stores were closed on Sunday, a real pity for the vendors. I was planning of spending some cash at Mango, my favorite store!

I got back to the station around 6. While merging onto highways and navigating home, I realized how comfortable I am here. I really do like France. However, I can’t stay a minute longer. It is truly a pity that I was paired with this family. These moments of contentment and happiness always disappear within 24 hours, and always occur when I am out of the house. They are not enough to over shadow the bad moments. I think that it could have been a fantastic experience, rather than a bad one.

So, today’s my birthday. My mom sent me a package: one of the best birthday gifts I’ve ever gotten. Spandex (I LOVE ‘em for running!), cross stick projects (fun time consuming project!), Vogue (which I read while wearing spandex), a book by one of my favorite authors, minty lip gloss, and more. I cried when I opened the card to find old pictures of our family. I had such a great childhood, and owe my parents a lot! 22 years later, and they're still there for me as much as before.

The kids ran into the room today, singing happy birthday and giving me birthday kisses. I almost cried because I felt bad for thier situation. Again, I'm very fragile (normally I don't cry very often!) The mom assigned me ironing, but did scribble “Joyeux Anniversaire" in the list. And for myself? I’m going to start packing, take pictures of the kids and the house, iron and clean, and know that this is a learning experience: one that will be over in a few days.

Your Daily Dose of Cultural Enhancement:

Souvenir: the French verb meaning “to remember”
Café: every afternoon, they have an espresso with little sugar, and every night as well. They like the natural taste of coffee.
Bisous: even people they just met get kisses on the cheek.
Hot Dog: If you buy one of these in Paris, be prepared to eat a footlong wrapped competely in bread.