I don't know what day it is

This morning Rocío and I headed to the train station at 5:30am to catch the train to Limoges. We had our mandatory immigrants' doctor's appointment today, and since the only train that could get us to Limoges on time left at 6:24am, we had to get up really early. We took a taxi to the clinic because I'm super lazy and prefer to have a nice man drive us there in a warm heated car with leather seats than figure out which bus takes us the closest and then walk. So we get to the clinic and who walks in the waiting room but Courtney!! My buddy from DC! How happy was I to see her. Ah I really like her. She's smart and funny and cute. Ah. Anyways. My appointment was first, and the first order of business was a chest x-ray. For this I had to take everything on top off, including my bra. I was prepared for this, but Rocío had been freaking out for a week about having to be anywhere near unclothed. I asked the doctor afterward why they do it and apparently it's tuberculosis screening. I was weighed (62kg, or 136lbs so not bad) and measured (172cm? does that sound right?) and he checked my heart or my pulse, can't remember because I was trying too hard to relax (it always happens), checked my vaccination records against a chart (thanks Dad! that really helped), and asked me if was on any medications (my prescription wasn't that big of a deal apparently, and I had even brought a copy of it in case) and if I had ever had any serious illnesses. And that was it! I was given a certificate of the visit to bring to the Sous-Préfecture and my chest x-ray. I really should find a way to post it online, it's fascinating. You can see the outline of my boobs and my scoliosis, which looks a lot worse in x-ray form. What a great souvenir. The doctor was really nice and patient.

Rocío and I found the bus stop across the street from the clinic (stop, I like taxis) and headed back downtown. Then since I had a good 2.5 hours to kill before the next train to Ussel, I dragged poor Rocío to the Tourism Office in Limoges to see if they had any information about the places I'm going to visit for the upcoming vacation. The lady handed me one brochure. Not so helpful. I miss the girls at the Tourisme Office in La Rochelle - they had everything and never hesitated when I asked for information. :-( Sad. Anyways. I chilled in the train station with a really crappy sandwich, reading my liberry book and waiting for the train. And then I fell asleep in the train. I have got to stop that, it's really not good! I could be reading, or writing postcards, or doing Sudoku puzzles...

So I dropped off a copy of my medical visit certificate at the Sous-Préfecture and discovered that yes, I do in fact have my récepissé! This document is temporary (it expires January 14, 2008) but is in fact proof that I have applied for and am in the process of receiving a real residency card! This is fantabulous news. They still want to see my original birth certificate, which bothers me. French administration doesn't realize that if I give them my original American birth certificate, getting a new one is not an easy thing. It's not something you give up so easily for anything. Copies, always. But I'll bring the original and the original translation and refuse to surrender either. I need those suckers. If the French postal service wasn't so iffy about mail security I'd mail home my original so Dad could put it back in the safety deposit box, but as it is, I feel more secure knowing its whereabouts at all times. Which is in my official purple folder.

So Ben came back from classes and we unsuccessfully tried to hook him up to the Livebox. He has a Mac, so we're trying to translate my PC's settings to his Mac's settings. And neither of us are particularly well-versed in technology so it was difficult. That conversation was in English.

Tonight, I'm going to dinner at the cantine, Andy and I are going to Skype, I'm going to make sure I'm ready for my lessons for at least Tuesday, and Ben is going to frog around on the Toshiba because we've also disabled his access to the crappy school network. Whoopsies.

Love you all!!