I LOVE DISNEYLAND PARIS! If I could live there, I would. At the end of the day, Molly and I were trying to think of places we could hide for the night so that no one would be able to kick us out. Though we had a few promising sleeping places, we did actually end up leaving.
We went on almost every single ride, except "It's A Small World" because I have a great fear of getting stuck on the ride and being forced to listen to that stupid song for hours on end, after which I will go crazy and jump off the boat, smashing in all the heads of those singing dolls.
It's a very detailed fear.
There really aren't words to describe my day, so I'll make one up: funnificent. Yes, it was a very funnificent day. We ran around all through the park and were probably more excited than all the small children when we saw Sleeping Beauty and Prince Phillip. Of course, they'd only take pictures with the small children (it's prejudice, I tell you), but I still saw them!
We were exhausted but incredibly happy by the time we got back.
This morning I found a note from the Italian I met in the kitchen asking if I wanted to do something. We ended up going to a free museum with Molly, Musée du quai Branly. It was mostly African, Native American, and Indonesian art. Though it had no French stuff, it was still pretty cool. The national museums in Paris are always free the first Sunday of the month. It's quite lovely.
The Italian's name is Giovanni, which is so Italian that it's equal to meeting someone named Pierre in France. I've convinced him to be our guide through Italy for Spring Break. Myriem (Mimi, the Moroccan girl from our foyer) is going to be our guide through Morocco, and we're still attempting to find a Grecian to show us through Greece but Mimi and Molly have a Greek friend here so it shouldn't be too hard.
I think I should be their guide through Disneyland. It's only fair.
Sunday, March 1, 2009
Friday, February 27, 2009
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.
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.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
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.
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.
Sunday, February 22, 2009
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.
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.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
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.
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.
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
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.
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.
Sunday, February 15, 2009
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.
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.
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