I've Just Seen a Face...

Yesterday, Molly and I walked past a GORGEOUS guy in our foyer. We both turned to each other as soon as we turned the corner said "damn" at the same time.

When I was doing laundry this morning, he was in the kitchen by himself, cooking food that smelled really good (I think the guys in our foyer cook better than the girls; except me, the cooking goddess). Of course, I didn't want to be impolite and just ignore the beautiful man, so I began talking to him. He offered me food straight away, so I can already tell we're going to be friends.

He's Italian, speaks English, is very nice, and is going to be a lawyer. Basically, he's going to be featured in one of my romance novels. Except he'll be a count and when he meets the heroine his shirt will be off.

I invited him to come with me and some friends to Père Lachaise on Sunday. What's Père Lachaise you ask? It's a cemetary. I know, I'm such a romantic. I mean, it's a cemetary where a lot of famous people are buried (like Oscar Wilde and Bob Dylan), but still.

Tomorrow I'm going to Disneyland!!!!!!!! My excitement cannot be contained. Molly asked me if it was ok if we left at 8:30 so that we could be there when the gates opened and I said, "We are going from the time it opens until the time it closes. I accept nothing else. Bring food if eating's important to you."

12 hours of pure happiness await! I'm bringing my camera and pictures of me are being taken with the Disney princesses and furry woodland creatures. I hope you're all ready for them.

I've Already Failed at Lent

Giving up English for Lent has been a bad idea. Apparently, I don't know enough French. I'll just put this on my list entitled "Things I've Given Up for Lent That Have Only Lasted for 3 Hours."

At least I went to church to get ashes today. I've forgotten to mention it before, but Jesus tastes better in France. (Can I go to Hell for saying that?) Not many people in my program are Catholic, so they had very strong reactions to seeing the ashes on my forehead. Most of them thought it was a massive bruise. My favorite was "Oh my God, Meghan! What happened to you?!" I told her I'd gotten into a fight on the metro, but added, "You should see the other guy."

I should probably give up lying for Lent, but where's the fun in that?

None of us were sure where to go this weekend. Prague, Barcelona, and Italy were too expensive, but then Molly and I found something for 29 euro: Disneyland Paris. That's right, I'm chillaxin with Mickey this weekend! I can't wait. I figure I'm not really Parisian until I've been to their Disneyland. I mean, isn't that how you're supposed to judge a country? It's not by the character of its people, or how good its food is, or how pretty it is, or by its economy. No, it's by how awesome their Disney theme park is. And if they don't have a Disney themepark they don't even count as a country. As only 4 countries have Disney resorts, pretty much the entire world is screwed.

Although technically the Paris resort is a Euro Disney resort, so I guess all of Europe is covered.

I bought Twilight in French! I only know what they're saying because I've read it six million times in English, but my program director told me this was a good thing. I suppose I'm learning more words this way. I think I've hit a French roadblock, though. I'm way better at pronouncing things now, but I think my mind got tired of learning words and is now like "Screw this. You know how to order food. What more do you want from me?!"

I have homework, so I should probably go do that. I wrote a short story this afternoon in English instead of doing anything productive in French. I'm going to do homework then force Mimi to talk to me only in French. Though, I lent her Twilight while I was writing my story so I doubt she'll want to speak to any human beings until she finishes it. Such is the power of Edward Cullen.

Carnival: Fesitval of Wonderfulness

This weekend I did indeed go to Monacco. I gambled away an entire fortune of 10 euros. At one point, I was up by 40 cents, but I wiped out my earnings in one sweep. I know I have a problem. I've already begun to seek help.

Three of us went to the Casino Monte-Carlo (the site of my huge montary loss), which is the big casino. Right outside was an array of Ferraris, Porsches, BMWs, and Mercedes. I'm pretty sure they have a montary value rule for the cars that are sitatuted directly outside the casino. If your car is under 50,000 euro, it just doesn't make the cut.

I've decided that Monacco is the perfect place to find a rich husband, and have decided that's where I'll look for my first husband. I'll only marry him if he has a yacht. Judging by the cars outside the casino, he shouldn't be hard to find.

Both Nice and Monacco were gorgeous! The weather was about 55-60 degrees (I'm completely guessing on that, but it sounds right), so I didn't need a heavy winter jacket. You should all be jealous. Though it wasn't really warm enough to be without a light jacket, I still saw a topless man on the beach. At least, I thought it was a man until he sat up and I realized that he had unusually large breasts for a man of his size. It wasn't the first time I'd seen a topless person on a beach, but it did confirm my belief that the people who go topless and wear thong bathingsuits (yes, they exist) are the people who should generally cover up the most. Not to judge their God-given beauty or anything.

Speaking of beauty, I asked a beautiful man for directions today. Though I didn't think of it at the time, I probably should have said, "I think I'm confused. Can you lead me there and then I can show you my gratitude by giving you my number?" I'm remembering that for the next gorgeous direction-giver I approach.

Nice's Carnival is cra-zay-zay. The parade lasted for 2 hours and there were little kids dressed up like it was Halloween. One thing I'm not sure I enjoyed was the silly string. There's a ton of vendors everywhere selling cans of it and at first I was like, "Ha! I don't need one of those. I'm far too old and mature for that."

Then some stupid idiot sprayed Silly String all over my hair, which had been looking particularly lovely that day. So I bought a can.

The others in the group bought cans too, but they weren't as smart about using them. They would just randomly spray them at people, but I waited until some evil person used their can on me. They then got a bunch of silly string in their face courtesy of yours truly. Of course, I still had a ton left after everyone else ran out of theirs. It's all military strategy. Nothing like a good, old fashioned eye-for-an-eye theory.

It's a good thing I had a lot left, because this ten-year-old boy decided that I was a good target and proceeded to follow me around the rest of the night. He completely destroyed my beautiful hair, so I bought three more cans of silly string. Don't worry: he got his.

French Progress and Fear of a Possible Gambling Addiction

My intensive language class is finished! While it was fun while it lasted, I'll be glad to not have 30 hours of French a week. Although, my vocabulary has expanded. I'll give examples.

Pre-Bootcamp: I like dogs. (J'aime les chiens.)
Post-Bootcamp: I think dogs are great, but I'm going to kill the next dog that poops on the street. (Je pense que les chiens sont très bien, mais je vais touer le prochain chien qu'il merde dans la rue.)

Pre-Bootcamp: I'm wearing a yellow shirt. (Je porte une chemise jeune.)
Post-Bootcamp: I just spilled nutella all over my shirt. Now I'm going to have to clean it, but I hate the washing machines. They're too expensive. Should I just buy a new shirt? (J'ai renversé nutella sur ma chemise. Maintenant, je vais avoir à le nettoyer, mais je déteste les machines à laver. Ils sont trop chers. Devrais-je acheter une nouvelle chemise?)

Pre-Bootcamp: I like this movie. (J'aime ce film.)
Post-Bootcamp: I like this movie because the actor in it is really hot. I'd like to be his girlfriend. Do you know his phone number? (J'aime ce film parce que le acteur est très beau. Je voudrais être sa petite amie. Est-ce que vous connaissez son numéro de téléphone?)

Pre-Bootcamp: I can't work with him. (Je ne peux pas travailler avec lui.)
Post-Bootcamp: This guys is an idiot. Can I please have a new partner? Preferably one with a brain. (Ce mec est bête. Puis-je avoir un nouveau partenaire? Je préfère quelqu'un avec un cerveau.)

When I thanked my teacher after class today, she told me I had improved a lot. She also said I no longer turn bright red and stutter when I speak, and that I should be proud of this. I hope to learn even more in the coming months. I've learned a lot of swear words, too, but I've already stated that I'm going to keep this PG. But really, you don't truly know a language until you can swear at someone on the train. Not that I've done that.

I'm going to be MIA this weekend. I'm going to Nice and I'm not taking my computer. I'm hoping it stays safe. My roommate is the nicest person ever, so I doubt she'll steal it and sell it on the black market. But then again, you never know. It's the nice ones you've got to watch out for.

I have to be gone by six tomorrow, so I'm off to sleep now. I'll tell you all on Monday of my grand Carnival adventures. I think a few of us might stop by Monaco, so there's a chance I'll be asking for cash donations for the "Save Meghan From Absolute Poverty Due to Her Gambling Problems" fund. Though the only time I've ever really gambled, I had to stop after 75 cents because I felt like I was spending too much (but I won a dollar, so that was a plus). I think I should be ok.

I've Run Out of Ideas For Titles

I got a 14 on the test!!!!!!!!!!!! I just looked at my handy dandy guide and found out that's a B! (An 11 is a C... I'm pretty sure it's an F minus in America.) I did better than some of the girls who have been studying French for 8 years, so I'm good. I also got a "great progress" on my test. For all who worried, my mother informed me that she would love me even if I got a zero, which is good because if I got a zero I wouldn't love me.

Last night we watched Sex and the City in French, which was strange but I was able to follow along pretty well. Sexy is the exact same word in French, in case anyone was wondering. We've begun watching movies every night. Now that my final exam has been completed, we no longer have homework. It's quite fabulous.

We've also begun having "family dinners" where Molly, Mimi (the Morrocan girl in my foyer) and I all eat together. I found out that I apparently have a talent for making omelettes (I think I'm spelling that in French instead of English. Are they the same?! I can't remember words anymore). I can't flip them in the pan to save my life, but they always taste good. Actually, the vegan (or Steven, as some call him) is really good at flipping omelettes. He claims he worked at a breakfast place, but I think he eats eggs when no one's looking.

I love the food here. I would eat all day everyday if I could. If I come back fat, you'll all know why. I know the pronouncation of all the French pasteries by now. I never get to buy them, really, but occasionally I splurge. I don't know what the French do to their food, but things taste better here. Ok, that's a lie. I do know what they do to the food. It's all natural and whatnot (Steven likes to talk about this and about how American food is corrupt and how the dairy industry is evil... I kind of stop listening after the first sentence).

This Friday I go to Nice for Carnival! Carnival is the French equivalent of Mardi Gras (except theirs lasts for more than just a day because the French know how to have a good time), so there will be lots of partying. I've already decided that for Lent I'm giving up English. Well, not on this blog or in emails, but when I talk to people here. All the American students have been informed and will have to suffer through my bad French for the next few weeks. I'm pretty much going to be giving up speaking for Lent, so I think God should give me some extra points. I think you get time off on Sundays, so those will be my days of not shutting up.

Another Entry With Large Paragraphs

Christine and I were reunited for the weekend. She brought Kelsey and Steve with her (all three of them are studying in Ireland through Loras), both of whom she fondly refers to as the "tourist Nazis." I thought it was a joke until I spent the weekend with them. By the time I met up with them on Friday at 6 pm, they had already been through 3 art museums and 2 or 3 national monuments. Considering that this had all been accomplished since 8 AM that morning, it was very impressive. And terrifying.

Molly and I took them on a crash course through the Louvre. We spent only an hour there, but we hit up all the good stuff like the Mona Lisa (overrated) and all the statues that are famous because they're missing limbs. Considering there are about 300 billion pieces of art in the Louvre, our 1 hour was impressive. I think they were all tired by then, though. I mean, it was a long day. Of course my "Ok, well that's really it unless you want to see some really weird, modern Dutch stuff" probably didn't make them want to stay in the museum.

They wanted French food (which is actually harder to find in Paris than you'd think. I could show you some good Italian, Chinese, and Mexican restaurants, though), so we took them to a crepe place. I don't think they got many tourists there because they guys gave us a free pitcher of wine and shots with ice cream and suckers along with our crepes.

Saturday, we went to the Eiffel Tower and the Statue of Liberty and mass at Notre Dame, finishing our night off with wine and the Arch de Triomphe. Well, at least that's all Christine and I did. We let Kelsey and Steve go off and be uber-tourists by themselves for four hours and then met them for mass. It seemed like the intelligent, less masochistic thing to do. I can't remember everything the two of them ended up doing, but just multiply our list by 7, and I'm sure it's somewhere near that.

Today, we went to Versailles. We all got the audio guides, but decided we didn't like them that much. They were helpful sometimes, like on the rare occasion when they told you the historical significance of the room, but it wasn't very interesting when they said things like "and that cabinet over there was made by some cabinetmaker you've never heard of before. He came from a family of cabinetmakers." The audio guide person always said that last line as if it was shocking and you should have expected the cabinetmaker to come from a long line of unicorn-breeders instead.

I was sad to see the three of them leave, but I'm going to see them all again for St. Patrick's Day. I'm flying to Ireland the weekend before. I actually booked tickets.

Oh, I had another test on Friday. I was all zen about it until she handed it to us and I read the words "Final Exam" on the front (we have another week of class. I'm not sure whether or not this test is giving me permission to not pay attention for the rest of them). I actually did way better on the listening portion this time, though it's quite possible I failed the rest of the test. I'm pretty sure I invented some new tenses, but that's what they get for expecting me to learn 6 tenses in two weeks. I'm hoping that either a) my responses were magically correct or b) my teacher gets really confused and becomes convinced that she doesn't understand what I've written because I know French words/tenses that she doesn't.

I'm not really concerned about my grade because I did try. Even if I get an 11 (out of 20), I'm still going to be proud of myself. I asked my mother, and she never responded as to whether or not she'd still love me if I got an 11. I'm just going to assume it was a bad internet connection.

It's a Good Day

So today rocked for the following reasons. I'll put them in order from exciting to excitingest (yes, I made up that word, but I'm an English major. I'm allowed to make up words and pretend they're real. seriously, what else is the major good for?*)

1. We talked about relationships in class today. As relationships are my forte as a future trashy romance novelist, I understood everything that was being said. I was actually able to talk about things. Which led to...


2. I talked in class so much today that my teacher (who formerly used me as the example for "timid") said, "Look at Meghan! She's speaking so much today! It's like she's a different person!" Only she said it in French because I'm taking a French class.


3. I met my roommate! I think I already mentioned she was from Spain. She doesn't really speak much English, but between French and Spanish we communicated really well. I was nice to have someone understand my mixture of French and Spanish. (I seriously can't help it if the Spanish words slip in. French and Spanish are like the same language only the French don't pronounce any of the letters. It's like "Let me take this long Spanish word that should be seven syllables and make it two.") She sympathized with my problem, saying that learning French had made her forget a lot of the English words she knows. She's from Madrid. She said there hasn't really been anyone in my room before because the other girl that was here left after three weeks last semester. I'm lasting longer than that.


4. I bought laundry stuff for my clothes. So now I can wash my clothes again! (Side note to all the horrified people thinking I haven't washed my clothes since I left a month ago: they were cleaned right before I left Tours two weeks ago.)


5. We're going to the Opera tomorrow, and I plan on fulfilling my dream of being kidnapped by the Phantom of the Opera who conveniently resembles Gerard Bulter:


6. This MADE my day: Christine, my bestest friend in the whole wide world (bestest is also totally a word), is coming to visit me this weekend! I get to see her on Friday!!!!!!!!!!! Yay life!

*Disclaimer: English majors are good for many jobs because they help you write better and many companies like when their employees can communicate well. English majors should not be considered burdens to society or be referred to as "the future unemployed people of America."

In Which Meghan Gives a Lesson in French

I think I'm doing better at French. I still suck, but I don't suck as much. It's a very important distinction. My teacher told me I was getting way better, but that I'm much better at writing than speaking. I'm thinking that I should probably just carry around a notebook and write whatever it is I want to say. I can pretend I'm a mute or something. There are a lot of strange people in Paris, I would only be slightly odd.

Mimi helped me with my French homework last night. I had to write a letter from a man whose wife had asked him for a divorce. I wrote it and had her read it over. She basically had to rewrite it, but at least I tried. We've been learning the words for relationship things, so I gave the guy a mistress.

Interesting side note: the word for mistress is maîtresse, the same as the word for teacher in French. A commentary on French culture? Perhaps.

I have also learned the word for drag queen which is un drageur. Sadly, I didn't learn that one until today. Otherwise, the man would have been a drag queen as well.

My teacher thinks that I'm going to be so overwhelmed in my French cinema class that I'll go crazy, so I think I'm going to have to drop it. They offer it at a lower level but it's on Fridays until 5 PM. I love movies, but not that much. If it was a class where we ate chocolate the whole time, I might reconsider. But 5 PM on a Friday? I don't think so. All the cheap planes leave on Friday morning, so it would be automatically more money to go somewhere.

I've decided to take a theatre class instead. We memorize things in French and practice saying them with the proper amount of emotion. I can totally do that. And plus, there will be elementary level kids in my class (I'm intermediate 1), so I'll automatically be the kid who's way more intelligent than everyone else and who everyone wishes they were as cool as.

Mimi has invited me to her school party on Friday. It's apparently at a hip club with free drinks and free lollipops. (I'm not sure why they have free lollipops. I'm too scared to ask.) Molly and I are going with her and getting dressed fabulously. Mimi has a lot of clubbing clothes that she's willing to share. I haven't seen them, but they've been mentioned so many times that I'm convinced they're legendary. I'll tell you if the collection lives up to its reputation.

Being a Tourist

I wrote this yesterday night, but the internet died as I was posting it:

Last night, Molly, Steven and I went to this really amazing place for dessert. Molly and I shared three desserts and Steven had none because he's a vegan and they aren't allowed to eat good food. The desserts were fabulous.

We also bought Canadian maple syrup for the pancakes we made this morning. Nothing in France is really open on Sunday unless it's in a tourist area, so things have to be bought on Saturday. Or you can just go hungry, but I actually like food. It's a law that you have to remain closed on Sunday. Sounds like a great way to boost the economy.

Molly and I were tourists today and walked around everywhere. First, we ventured to Sacre Coeur. One of the artists tried to convince us that we should let him draw us for free because Molly's French was so good. (I'm guessing he would draw us for free and then demand money from us if we wanted the actual picture.) He then saw my ring and went "Oh no! Are you engaged?" and when I replied in the negative he said, "Good, because I love you." I suppose this is the point where I should have said, "I'm not engaged; I'm married," but I chose to walk away instead. It worked and no further declarations of love were made to me throughout the day.

We also traveled to the Louvre, Notre Dame, and the Eiffel Tower. My monthly metro pass has come in handy. Pictures shall eventually be posted on facebook. When we came back, Molly's Moroccan friend, Mimi, needed help with her English project. She's studying advertising and the topic was Victoria's Secret. I don't believe I've ever heard the word "sexy" used so much in a project for school before. That must be one interesting class.

I'm pretty sure I didn't do that fabulously on the test. And by pretty sure, I mean I didn't do well on the test. Ah well, it's just a test, right?

For one part she gave vocab and we had to explain the vocab. I got most of the words, but one was "cancre" and I had no idea what that was. I vaguely remember it being mentioned in class, but I did the math and I'm already attempting to learn at least 40 words a day. Some words are bound to slip through the cracks (or, in my case, most of the words). It looked like the word "cancer" so I just wrote that someone who was a cancre was born in July and that cancre was their star sign.


Yeah, so cancre means a dunce. That should be interesting.

I think I got most of the other words. The only section I completely bombed was the listening portion, so I might actually be ok. I mean, that was only 1/4 of the test. And maybe my teacher gives points for effort.


I went out with a small group and we went dancing. I danced with a guy from Columbia, but every time I tried to speak to him in Spanish it came out in French. (No, I wasn't drunk. That would have at least been an excuse.) I found this ironic because everytime I try to speak during class in French in comes out in Spanish. I thought it might work if I tried to speak in French so that it would come out Spanish, so I attempted that but it didn't work. *Sigh*

We went to a concert on Thursday. It was at a really hip cafe. I could tell this because there was a tree sticking out of the middle of our table. I can only assume this is the epitome of hipness. There was also a stop-motion claymation projection going on behind them while the music was playing, which also is the epitome of hipness.

I'm taking today as a day of rest. I've been going all over the place and I just needed a day off. It's been very nice, and now maybe my brain will be able to speak in French.

Meghan Can Now Legally Drink Without Her Parents in the US of A

I know what you’re all thinking: Meghan missed a day of blogging because she got shwasted on her birthday.

Sadly, it’s not true. I didn’t get shwasted. I actually remember my 21st birthday, so I probably didn't do it properly. I did have two glasses of wine, though!

OH! I forgot to mention this: I found trashy romance novels!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! The good kind with people in compromising positions on the covers! I actually found them when I was looking for shampoo. I turned and BAM! there was an ENTIRE WALL of pure happiness. Now that I've learned the past tense (I learned three tenses in two days. I'm powering through the French language), I can actually understand them kind of! I haven't bought one yet, but I will.

Today I actually wrote a story in French. We had to write about a painting, and mine was an old woman. The painting was entitled "Grand-mère," which is grandmother in French. We had to write about their personality, so I'm going to translate it into English for you right now. (I assume my French version had a lot of grammatical errors anyway.)

Her name was Grandmother. She had another name, but it got lost in 1839. Everyone just called her Grandmother. She looks kind and sympathetic in the picture. She's not. It's a facade.

Before she died, she wasn't speaking to any of her children because she thought they were stupid. She was cold and impatient. She hated children, dogs, cats, doctors, policemen, the sun, candy, and happy people.

She was intelligent and had a sense of humor. One of her sons hated vegetables, so when she died she gave him her vegetable garden. The son who loved vegetables got nothing. I think she was a horrible human being. The whole world was happy when she died. I believe she was probably lazy as well.

Wow, I'm a morbid person. I'm not entirely sure I filled out the assignment correctly, but that's what my teacher gets. I think it's decent for someone who could only say "hi!" and "The dog is brown" three weeks ago. Although, for the word "facade" I was just like, "Hm, it sounds French so I'm just going to put an 'une' in front of it and hope it's right."

I have a test tomorrow, so cross your fingers that it goes well!

The Last Day of the Twentieth Year of Meghan

My brain is too exhausted for actual English paragraphs, so I’m writing in list form today. Parts are just me ranting, so bare with me.


1. Bootcamp does not equal a French party. It was named properly.

2. 6 hours of French a day is... a lot of French.

3. Bootcamp will be 3 weeks, not 2. Shelley lied. Bad Shelley.

4. That’s 90 hours of French in 3 weeks.

5. Merde.

6. I understood everything up until hour 5 when everyone started talking about the French school system and then my brain shut down of its own accord. Thing I learned: the French go to school.

7. In French there are three million exceptions to every rule. It gets to the point where you’re like “Ok guys, if it only applies to three things it’s not really a rule, it’s a coincidence.”

8. I’ve already found grammar errors in this entry that I’m not going to fix. I know, I’m such a rebel.

9. I bought a frying pan and a plate, and both made it to the foyer unharmed.

10. I cooked food.

11. I’m kind of jealous of the kid who doesn’t speak French because when asked what he did today in class the response was, “I had so much fun! We played games and went on a tour and I learned the French word for monster!” which he then proceeded to pronounce incorrectly. I feel like he’s going to preschool and I’m going to big kid school. Everyone knows preschool is more fun. You get naptime.

12. Naps. We need to bring those back.


Well, I’m off to do homework and then crash. Sleep how I love thee…

A Room With A View Of Another Building

I got shampoo! I ran out of my travel sizes so I had to buy a new bottle. It’s the original Herbal Essences, not that new Herbal Essences. It’s the biodegradable kind that’s no longer available in the USA because we hate the environment. That kind where you open the bottle and all the sexy men come out and wash your hair while singing “She’s got the urge to herbal!” (http://fr.youtube.com/watch?v=8gg8xfxRSUs&feature=related) I think I scared Steve (the other kid from Central College in my foyer) in my excitement. He’s a boy. He doesn’t understand.

I went to my school for the first time today. It's very large and impressive looking. As this is my top priority in whatever school I go to, I'm very pleased. We got tested for our French levels again. I've already surpassed my elementary level and am now in Intermediate 1. Clearly, I rock.

Ok, so picture time:

This is my bedroom. Note the expansive white walls. This should not be seen as a reflection of my boring personality, but rather as the product of having no tape to put up things and no things to put up. I suppose I will have to work harder on my goal of finding a Frenchman who wants to win my affection through painting and convince him to paint a mural on the wall. Although, we're not allowed to have guests upstairs in the foyer so this might be a problem. I also think they'd count the mural as a damage and make me pay to repaint the wall.

Ok, no mural. I'll accept paintings instead.

Here's my room from the other side. Note the extremely starving artist-esque window. It's entirely possible that the shutters date all the way back to the 18th century. They have enough rust. I'm pleased that my room looks like something out of La Bohème with the exception of the laptop on the desk. And the Coke bottle.

I made a foyer friend!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! His name is Jonathan, pronounced Jon-o-ton... I think. Well, it's the French version of Jonathan so just make it sound French and it's probably right. He's from Africa. I'm not sure exactly where because I still can't really understand spoken French (thank God I'm taking classes entirely in French for letter grades that get factored into my GPA). We spoke in Frenglish (French and English mixed together), but I think I did pretty well French-wise. I was able to get that he's an accountant and he wants to stay here to work after he graduates.

As soon as I told him I was from Illinois he goes, "OBAMA!" which is pretty much the response of the world whenever Illinois is mentioned. Although, he did take it a step further and say, "Blagovich! Governor!" So we get to be known for corruption too. Yay us.

Tomorrow classes start. I plan on taking my Frenglish to the next level.

A Commentary on French Showering Habits

Thank you everyone for the comments! I love getting them!

My foyer turned out to be better than I thought it would be. First, the room isn’t a double. I have a single, which is quite lovely. Second (and most important), I have internet!!!!!!!!!!! It was a joyous day when the woman showing me around pointed to a box in the hallway outside my room and said, “Wi-Fi” (which in French is pronounced wee fee). Of course, the Wi-Fi isn’t the greatest and has already cut off three webcam calls with my parents, but you can’t have everything.

I also get my own section of fridge. It’s like a mini locker. Now I just have to buy food to put in it! And also pots to cook that food. And silverware and dishes to eat the food.

True story about French people: they like conserving energy. All lights are on timers. They go off after a certain amount of time. This is disturbing when you’re in the bathroom and not expecting it. The French conserving tendency also applies to showers. The water only stays on for a certain amount of time before it just shuts off of its own accord. Now I wasn’t wearing a watch or anything, but if I had to guess I would say this time period is roughly 5 milliseconds. Normally you can just lean on the button the whole time and the water doesn’t stop, but the French are sneaky. They place the button far from the showerhead so that short people have to continually work to press it. I would also have to guess that this is why French people never shower. After taking one shower they probably say, “Well, the hell with that. I can shower next month.”

And that, my friends, is why the French smell.