September 28th

Friday, YES! This week could not have ended sooner. Fortunately I have only one class on Friday which is also relatively familiar. Remember those stories about King Arthur? Well apparently that's what all medieval literature is, at least according to my teacher. We're reading the tale of Lancelot, which I've read twice before, so notes are very simple. I actually felt fine after class was let out, no bullet to the brain. I think that my comprehension is improving, which would be nice, but my speaking is still lacking in skill. Hopefully I'll be able to practice more conversational French soon, I am slowly but surely socializing with French students. But honest, it's not 100% my fault, 43% of the problem lies with French college students. They are just, well, often non-approachable. This has nothing to do with their attitudes, they seem to enjoy Anglo-Saxon foreigners, but instead has to do with their hygiene. Sorry France, but soap was invented a long time ago it's time you used it, same with toothpaste. I have never seen so many pairs of yellow teeth in my life, and I worked at a gas station that had plenty of chew customers. These kids just don't care. I am aware that Americans tend to be "hyperclean" but come on! Just brush twice a day with some crest, it will make a serious difference. I have found a few French students that smell pleasant and have decent teeth on campus, they are my target peer group. I have started to chat with a few of them, but progress is very slow right now. Anyhow, after class I called my family and talked to them for about forty minutes. It was relaxing for my mind to hear my accent used flawlessly. Though Paula is American, she comes from a private catholic school in Kanas City; we sound very different. My accent is more difficult for the French to understand due to my laid back form of slang. After all I slur, mumble, and use urban jargon all the time. It shocks the other students when I use my "speech/interview" voice for then my English is acute, absent of contractions, and formal. Thus speaking with family, who can understand my verbal style, was like a shot of morphine. Afterwards my friends and I went out for Guinness day. Technically it was yesterday, but we decided it would be better to celebrate it on a Friday rather than a Thursday. My Irish friend Fergus joined us this time, he tends to be a loner, which was funny since we went to an imitation Irish pub. He actually walked away with two glasses of Guinness, Paula and I kept the glasses, on our way to a dorm party. There everyone had fun switching between French and English while clinking drinks. Funny enough I was mistaken for a Romanian. A French boy asked Paula and me what we were doing after the party. I told him that we were staying in because we were tired. He then asked what nationality I was to which I replied "je suis americaine." He laughed and said that I couldn't be since I had a Romanian accent. I personally didn't take too kindly to that comment and he received a Chicago accented phrase that went along the lines of, "I'm fucking Chicagoan." The look on the boy's face was priceless. Soon after we all crashed in our beds happy that no purses were stolen and that everything had turned out right.