My life as a first grader.

We (mostly I) have been functioning as a six year old for the past several months.  Some would say that's how I function in all areas of my life, but I think it's mostly just the following:

Address - It took me two months to learn our address.  Sometimes I still get mixed up on our 'post code' (zip code), but I got it down now!  They write addresses differently over here.  For example, if I wanted to send a letter to Big Bird:

Monsieur Big Bird

Rue de Sesame 12

3456 Creepy Town

Street # and zip code are in different places from US style.  You don't put what floor he's on nor do you put the country.  Unless he moves to China.  

Phone Number - I was just recently able to give my phone number to someone without looking at it in my contacts (last week).  This is a huge accomplishment!  Usually I have to ask Adam what it is, but after one too many 'looks' and sighs of disapproval from him, I thought it would be best if I learned it.  Swiss do phone numbers this way:

(+41) 12 345 67 89  (+41 is Switzerland's country code)

It also took us seven hours to figure out how to dial a +

or

012 345 67 89 (if you call from a Swiss phone)

This is Rocco and I practicing on a plastic phone Adam bought for me:

Just kidding.  I would never wear head-to-toe baby pink.

Money - I am now proficient at using the various bills and coins.  Having seven different coins to mentally and physically manage is difficult.  However, I can now go through the grocery line and use coins rather than just hand the lady a 100chf bill (which used to happen each time).  When I first tried using coins, I got death stares because it took me soooo looonnnng to count it out.  Pretty detrimental to confidence.  I'm awesome at it now.  

 

Time - We use 24 hour time (Army time) over here.  It's horrible.  Seriously.  When we arrived, I made a vet appointment for the boys and showed up three hours early because I got times confused.  When someone says "See you at vingt hour" (20:00) I have to mentally subtract 12.  Sometimes I even catch myself using my fingers.  At first I think 20:00?!  That's too late for dinner!  Then I realize it's only 8:00.  I can't tell you how many times I have been asked the time by strangers.  I ALWAYS freeze up too.  Not because I don't know what time it it, but I just don't know how to communicate it.  It's so weird.  I am hoping to master the time skills by the time we move back.  Probably won't happen.

Temperature - Celsius.  It sucks.  I seriously loathe (stronger than hate) using Celsius.  I just poke my head out of the window to get the weather forecast. 20 degrees Celsius means nothing to me.  I know that 24-ish is really nice, 30 is hot, and Phoenix is somewhere around 83.  I don't think I'll ever get the hang of it.

  

Thanks Anders Celsius.  

P.S. Your hair is ugly.

Conversions - Ahh the metric conversions.  I remember learning something in school about them and thought "Pfft, we don't use the metric system here so who cares?"  Funny how that worked out.  Metric is easy in and of itself.  However, going from cups/miles/feet/pounds/etc. (empirical system) to anything metric requires technical assistance and critical thinking skills.  I have an app on my phone (Well, did.  I recently washed it doing laundry... another story.) and I frequently refer to my Better Homes cookbook index for conversions.  Celsius fits in again here.  If someone said, "Hey Ashley, I need 4 deciliters of peanut butter.",  I would have no clue what that looks like.  Is that close to a cup?  A barrel?  A teaspoon?  Equivalent to a swimming pool?  Who knows.   I try to not do any conversions.  Or I just guess.  Hopefully no one will ever ask me for 4 deciliters of peanut butter.

Look at this witty comic I found.  Someone spent way too much time drawing out a cheesy joke.

French - Oh my gosh.  I feel like a toddler trapped in an adult's body.  I am learning French, but I have a very limited range of vocabulary and applicable phrases... equivalent to our 2.5 year old nephew's language skills.  That's actually if I can get the words out of my mouth.  Usually a French conversation induces heart palpitations and extreme palm sweat.  I know how to say random things like "It's snowing out. I am American.  Do you have any apples?  My dogs are both male.  Where is the bank?"  Honestly, though I can't just walk up to people and say "Hello!  It is snowing.  Do you have apples?"

I was 'talking' to a lady one day about the fur kids and she said "Ohh!  Voila! (vwah-la) and quickly stormed off.  It was awkward.  Really awkward.  I mentally retraced the conversation trying to figure out what went awry.  I said my French phrases again and figured it out.  I was trying to tell her they were male and kind of bad, but I wound up saying they were bad and very sick.  Oops.  Also, I may have misdirected an elderly woman asking for directions to the bus stop one morning.  I hope she didn't have anywhere important to be.  Like a life saving doctor's appointment.

I can only wish that one day I will be able to communicate as good as a French-speaking first grader.  I think Adam's given up learning French.  I don't blame him.

              

Au revoir!

Up a river... with paddles.

I can't believe I still haven't finished blogging about our US trip.  :[  

We were in Kentucky for a couple of weeks after Phoenix.  My mom wanted to do something adventurous and crazy, so she booked us on a wild canoe trip.  It was anything but wild.  It took us about twenty-one hours to paddle 6 miles.  The river was barely moving and we had to paddle. A lot.  Actually, it was more paddling than I had anticipated.  I like to be lazy in a boat or any sort of watercraft... hence my love for the 'lazy river.'  Here's a recap:

Ready for some rapids!  Life jackets?  Check.

'A' still felt the need to wear her life jacket.

Our motor. 

Mom & Dad...  I don't think Mom even picked up an oar that day.

Haha.. just kidding Mom.

Hanging on tight.  The rapids were intense.

A & B

Some beautiful and creepy (cave) scenery.

A friend.  This thing hung out next to me (and on me) ALL day.  Luckily he didn't bite.

Future brother-in-law bonding.  

 This picture makes it seem like we were nice all day.  There was a lot of bumper boating, racing, and heckling going on.

Mom trying to take pictures.  She forgot to delete them from my camera.  Guess she'll learn for next time.

                                   

Certain people made fun of my 'lack of rowing', but here is a prime example of my hard work. 

I think we were floating backwards at this point.  This may or may not have been when we realized we had only gone a mile and it had been three hours.  5 more to go.  

Next time we're bringing a sail, a boombox, and a margarita machine.

B entertained us by falling in at one point.  ALso, A looks naked, but she's not.

 Relaxing.  It was exhausting rowing, tanning (you can see I got a great tan), and eating snacks.

Snack break #27.  Those are shorts B is wearing... not a pencil skirt.

Mom & Dad.  

Overall, a great day of sun, mosquitoes, snacks, and hanging out making fun of each other.  :)  Love and miss you guys!  

Au revoir!

We're back!

After our three week excursion to the US, we're back in Geneva.  That also means I need to get back into blog mode.  I went ahead and took another week off.  Some of you mentioned that you didn't know what to do with your life while I was on blog hiatus.  That was good to hear.  It's nice knowing I'm writing for an audience larger than eight.  

I have a lot of 'material' for the next couple of weeks, but first I'll give you a run-down of our adventure back to Geneva.

Monday night:
We took an extra suitcase back to the US with us because we had a list of 'stuff' to get and bring back (I'll post on that soon).  I packed us up the night before we left... 3 large suitcases, 2 carry-ons, 2 'purses'.  Then Adam walked in...

Adam: "Do you really think we need the 3rd large suitcase?"
Me: "Are you serious?  Why did we bring it?"
Adam: "I think we can fit everything into 2.  Don't you?"
Me: "We're going to be overweight, which means like $200.  I thought we were going to pay $70 for the 3rd?"
Adam: [looking through the stuff and plotting] "Nah, we can consolidate."
Me: [under my breath]  "I'm going to kill you."
Adam: [unpacking, shoving, wrinkling] "We can totally get this down to two bags and avoid paying baggage fees."
Me:  "Sure, go for it.  I'm telling you we're going to be overweight.  Next time you can pack."
Adam:  "Awww, don't be upset.  I like how you organize everything.  I just think we don't need the third bag."
Me:  "ZZzzzzz...."  [I went to sleep]

Tuesday morning:  
I awoke to four extremely obese suitcases.  Our carry-ons weighted at least 40 lbs. each.  Adam had successfully stuffed nineteen pairs of my shoes into one of them (bought lots of new flats).  I could barely lift the big ones.  Definitely overweight.
Adam:  "Hey I think we should take this third suitcase.  Just in case we're overweight."
Me: [shot him a nasty look] "Are you kidding me?"
Adam:  "My dad's meeting us at the airport, so if we don't need it, he can take it with him."
Me:  [angry eyes]

We said our goodbyes and off to the airport we went... with the extra empty suitcase.

We arrived at the airport, lugged our ginormous luggage inside and weighed it:  51 lbs. and 59 lbs.  That's 10 pounds overweight for those of you who haven't flown in a while.  I started frantically pulling stuff to put into the third suitcase, when the nice gentleman at the Continental counter asked how much we were over... Adam says "just a few pounds."

LIAR!!! 

Edit by Adam: "I demand a retraction in the next column, as the above statement has been taken out of context.  I may also pursue legal action for defamation of character."

The guy whispered "Well that'll be just fine.  Let me have them.  Just so you know, there's a $200 fine next time.  Just don't tell anybody."


Wow.  Such a nice guy.

Adam:  "Well, I don't know if all that frustration and near-divorce was worth it. We probably should have just paid the $70."
Me: [holding back a swift smack to the back of his head] "yeah."

We made it to our gate after having one last American breakfast (biscuits & gravy, bacon, eggs, coffee, OJ) with Adam's dad.

"Uh, ladies and Gentlemen, we just got word that this flight will be operating on a two hour delay.  There are storms in Chicago."

OMG.

20 minutes later:  "Well, folks looks like we will be taking off shortly.  Once we locate the pilots we can begin boarding."

10 minutes later:  Pilots show up.  Flight went well.  Made it to Chicago.

Chicago to Newark was a great flight with the exception of one announcement:  "Good afternoon ladies and gentlemen.  We have reached a comfortable cruising altitude, so sit back, relax, and enjoy the two hour flight to Newark.  Also, I do have some breaking news.  There has been a large earthquake in Washington.  We are expecting air delays all along the east coast, but we'll let you know upon approach.  As always, we appreciate your business and thank you for flying Continental."

Really?  You just announced that?  What does 'large' mean?  Which Washington?  State or DC?!  Why would you announce that at 30,000 ft!?  No more information?!  What is wrong with you!?  What are we supposed to do?  We're gonna die!!!  AAAHHHHH!!!

Give us more Ginger Ale at least!!!

You know you drink this on flights.

Made it to Newark.  Despite everyone's expectations, the east coast was still attached to the continental US and was not engulfed with flames.

What everyone on the plane was imagining.

Closer to reality.

Newark to Geneva:  still on time.
Flying time:  approximately 8 hours
Seats: 41 K&L (a pair with a window)
Luxuries: blankets & pillows included, all the free Ginger Ale one could desire, and 2 airplane meals
Entertainment: in-flight movies, iPad, books, and the option of making out under the blanket (just kidding)

 Goodbye US.... until December.  

Got a great view of NY.  Such a pretty day.  

Departure was perfect.  We were towards the back of the plane and there was only one screaming baby within earshot.  Usually there are several.  Adam did mention that he never wants to travel with a baby.  I agree.  It seems horrible... for the baby and accompanying adults.  The kids next to us were a little chatty, but no big deal.  They'd for sure be out after dinner.  Here's how the rest of the flight panned out...

Please excuse the pictures.  I can draw really well when I want, but I think the quality of the stick figures below makes this more entertaining.  

Going great.  Smooth take-off and we could sense iPad jealousy from the kid next to us.  That IS why we bought it.  By the way, I was not wearing teal shoes.  Just a color I picked.  I like teal. 

Getting some quality zzzzz's.  I usually sleep the entire time.  The orange thing is an airplane pillow... and my shoulders don't actually move like that.  

Que the smelly foot that appeared between our seats.  Really?!  I shoved our armrest back on it and it disappeared quickly.  FOOD!!!  Ginger Ale time!  Our neighbor started (loudly) playing the complimentary video games.  No biggie.

Trying to sleep.  Screaming neighbor kid is starting to get a little rowdy.  Go to sleep please!  It's 3 am in Geneva.  

Tickle Fest 2011.  Big sister was tickling and screaming too.

Story Fest 2011.  Let's try some soothing classical music.  

Nope.  I can still hear storytime.

Not even Ginger Ale time helped.  I wanted to strangle the kid.  If only TSA knew what I was thinking...

Of course.  

Hello Geneva.

7 am and I had an hour of sleep under my belt.  Getting acclimated to the time change was awesome.  I'm still having issues of not being tired at 12am.  

I always feel so dirty after flying.  Not to mention out of control hair, sleeping leg, contact problems, and severe back pain.  I could take ten showers before getting on a plane and would still feel the immediate need for a shower after de-boarding.  

We made it back safe and sound.

When we walked in the apartment door Rocco pee'd everywhere and Jackson wagged his whole body.  So excited.

Au revoir!

Organizational mastermind.

One of the things we've had to get used to over here is the lack of closet space.  Well, Adam wouldn't say it's been a struggle.  I, on the other hand, have two minor problems...


Problem 1:
One of these problems is the amount of clothing I have accumulated.  Shopping (for deals) is a habit that my mother has ingrained in me... as well as all of the other females in my family.  We like to shop.  However, I can confidently say that you won't see me on 'Hoarders' or 'True Life: I Mortgaged My House for a Purse.' I've actually gotten better since moving here because everything is SO expensive.  I'm talking ridiculously expensive and I'm not one of those gals.  I'd much rather go to H&M and buy a cheesy car.  Adam should consider himself lucky.  I can easily turn and make things very bad for the Hughes household... but I won't.  I can rock some Target flats and we can still afford to eat and pay our mortgage... and pay off our credit card each month.  Rackin' up those Continental points!!!

Rue de Rhone is one of the most popular shopping strips in the world and I can literally walk there in about ten minutes.  However, this street is filled with luxury shops.  You can find me on a sunny day window shopping at Chanel, Hermes, Christian Louboutin, Louis Vuitton, Rolex, Celine, etc.  More than likely it's because it's on the way to the Movenpick ice cream stand.  The parallel street, Rue de Marche, is my stomping grounds.  I am not a fashionsita.  Just look at my pictures on Facebook.  Some are shameful.  I once stood in front of the Christian Louboutin store gazing at the pretty shoes... wondering if flip flops were allowed inside.  I immediately looked at my horrific feet and decided that they wouldn't appreciate me sticking my callused, blistered (see Venice blog), stanky foot inside of one of their shoes.  They'd have to burn it.  I sadly walked home... with my ice cream in hand.  By the way, I could have had about four pairs of these bad boys for what we paid for the Wildcat Mobile.

Just the visual above makes me happy I don't have an extreme addiction.  

Although my loyalty will always be with Target, TJMaxx, and Gap, my favorite shopping locale for the past few years has been H&M.  I discovered it when we were in Orange County a few years ago and then one opened in Scottsdale.  Now, it's rare if I don't come across one daily.  There are four within about 10 minutes of us.  Four.  Ridiculous.  It's a fairly cheap store with cute clothes.  They also have frequent sales.   I try to stay away, but when I 'need' something or am in the mood to browse... that's where I start.  

Since this post is beginning to get off track and I don't have the editorial zeal to transition here, I'll just reiterate my first problem:  I have too many clothes from my years of deal hunting.  I gave a bunch away before we left, but still... I have an absurd amount.  By the way, The Boys & Girls Club will come to your house with a truck and haul donations away if you can't fit it into your car.  Pretty awesome.  

Problem 2:

Moving from Phoenix, we left two glorious walk-in closets... the smaller one is the size of our bathroom here.  We remodeled the one in our master bedroom and installed Rubbermaid shelving to the ceiling. We considered putting a hot tub in there, but the logistics of getting it up the stairs just didn't pan out.  It was awesome and I always took people on tours of the closet.  Wierd, but I was a proud mother.  I'm so jealous of our tenant.  

Our apartment here has some organizational drawbacks, but I have to keep telling myself that out of all the apartments we looked at this one was the nicest, cleanest, biggest, had the most storage space, and I wasn't going to have to work in the Red Light District so we could afford it.  Side note:  I know I sound like a spoiled-rotten brat writing about the lack of closet space.  I thank the Lord everyday for allowing us to be here in good health, have a place to live, clothes on our back, and food in our bellies... among several other things.  It's just been an interesting adjustment and people have said they like seeing pictures and hearing about what life is like here... and this is part of it.    Anyway, we have four closets and a 'cave' (pronounced like kahv).  Four you say!?  Yes four, but please see the pictures below for visual assistance.  I bet you have something totally different in your mind.  This problem haunted me for about thee months.  We basically lived out of suitcases for February and March.  April was all about settling into our new apartment and figuring out where to put all of our crap.  'European walk-in closet' is an oxymoron.  I've never seen one.  If one does exist it's because they converted a bedroom.  If someone tells me they have a walk-in closet here I put them on a 'watch list.'  I don't know if I can immediately trust what they say.   

{Adam's closet... in the hallway.  Everything fits.  How nice.}

{My closet in the living room.  Yes, living room.  I don't want to get into how much I dislike folding.}     

{My shelves next to the bed.  Yuck.}

{My shoe space behind the door.  Takin' it back to college days.}

{My closet with shoes, purses, and belts.  Don't be fooled.  It's smaller than it looks.}

{Another eyesore in the master bedroom.  Dresses, coats, jackets, etc.  PS, hangers cost an arm and a leg and I don't like colored ones.  I know.  I'm a wierdo.  I refused to buy anything but white at home.}

Check out my creativity and ingenuity....

{plastic tubs}

{Old wooden doors?  nails!}

{I'm now a master folder.  Gap would hire me in an instant}

{I have to place my shoes ever so carefully in a 'nesting' pattern so they won't fall out.}

"Excuse me Ashley, but instead of migrating between six different locations to get ready, why don't you guys buy one of these?"

Because we would have to buy it, transport it, haul it up to the fourth floor, and assemble it.  That's actually the easy part.  Mainly, it's because we're thinking about the future.  If we couldn't find someone who wanted the apartment with one of these in it already (yes, those people exist), then we would be responsible for having the massive beast removed.  We'd probably just break it into pieces and throw it over the balcony.  Or start a small fire.  If you want to schedule a trip to Geneva that will coincide with moving one of these out, then let us know.

Here's our creepy 'cave.'  It's where we keep Christmas decorations, Winter clothes, skis, the bike, and sometimes Rocco when he's bad.*  Sorry if this gives you nightmares.  

         

Au revoir!     

*Just clarifying for any animal activists who might possibly read this and are planning an intervention... we don't actually store our dog in this 'jail cell'.

Try saying 'jail cell' ten times fast.   It's frustrating.