Introduction to France

This blog is probably mainly to be dedicated to the fact that I am currently in France at the moment, and I would like to assure various people that I am not in fact dead or being eaten alive by French alligators. I don't think they even have alligators in France.
To start off, let me describe my French family. I'm going to use initials, because GOSSIP GIRL. No, I just don't want to, you know, violate their privacy or whatever.
I have E, my french father, who is a professor/lecturer (in all honesty, I'm not entirely sure) for science or physics or some equivalent. G is my french mother who works as a lawyers' secretary. Cl, who doesn't live at home and has some sort of work on the other side of the country. C, a university student who lives at home, and finally A, who is the same age as me and I go to school with her.
Speaking of school, I go to an "Hotellerie" school. It's a bit like TAFE, I guess. Basically, I'm learning how to do things in restaurants and hotels, like checking people in and things like that. It's all very strange because it kind of feels like I'm going to a themed school. I mean, everything's about restaurants or hotels. In English, they get excerpts from Wikipedia on the history of apple pie or custard. Once, the teacher asked me to summarise a text about crackers. Crackers.
To me, summarise means "take the most important bits of information out and word it simply". THERE IS NO IMPORTANT INFORMATION ABOUT CRACKERS. I'm pretty sure I just sat there for about five minutes trying to figure out how to reword "A cracker is a hand-sized sack made from water, flour and salt blah blah blah."
I live in a small town L outside a big town N. It's all very small and cute. Which is weird for me, because I'm used to big cities. I like big cities. Here, for example, I found out that the buses stop at 8 at night. Because that's not illogical or anything. Nope, the french know how to make things run right. Also, there is no taxi service either. I tried to communicate to A how flawed this system was but she, being french, thought that it made perfect sense. And if you're ever stuck in the middle of nowhere, pissed out of your mind, you'd just call someone to pick you up. But what if you don't know anyone? Well, outdoor camping without a tent is just as fun.
It's winter here, and actually cold, another foreign concept for me. To them though, this is a warm winter. Warm is defined by not being 0 degrees or below. I have to wear so many layers to keep my teeth from chattering. Just the other day, it was so foggy you could barely see your hand in front of your face. I've never seen anything like it.
That's about it for descriptions, I guess. I think it seems a bit like I'm complaining, but I'm actually having great fun here. I don't really want to justify that statement. It's not really a specific thing that's occuring, but just being in France, learning the language and being freaked out by their strange ways is enough.
Now, to figure out how exactly I publish this.