I graduated to a higher level in my Oral class last week. The new teacher can’t spell (a smidgy bit of a problem for us french “learners”) and she is about 12 years old. I miss Katherine (say: Kat-er-EEN), my first teacher who could speak 5 languages and was amazing. I saw her in the bathroom today at school, brushing her teeth. I wanted to beg to come back to her class but it didn’t seem right. If it had been the cafeteria, I might have gone there.
Joan’s been sick for two days. She missed school today which was the day of the big test. So, I guess she won’t be getting that diploma after all. The test was hard. Maybe because I didn’t sleep well the night before or maybe because I’M STUPID. But it was hard. I will get my results next week.
Valentine’s Day. I’m in the City of Love without my love. My 12 year old teacher, Miss Daphne, decided to use the occasion to go over different ways in French to express love. It was a fun experience until–Quelle horreur!— I discovered in the essay portion of my French test earlier, I had written a letter home in which I asked my mom to give my dad a kiss on the mouth for me!? Come on! There should be only one word for kiss “Baiser” and the verb “Embrasser” should absolutely mean “to hug”. I could not be more wrong. Here’s a rundown:
Baiser – to kiss
Embrasser -to kiss or hug
Baiser – NEVER EVER USE ALONE! Vulgar way to describe sex.
Embrasser – kiss on the mouth
Donner un baiser – give a kiss
Faire un calin – give a hug (this one is double-underlined in my notes)
February 21, 2013
My high school friend, Janet, and her daughter, Abby, arrived on the 15th. Abby was on crutches–broken bone in her foot. To enjoy Paris it is necessary to walk. Poor Abby! Despite this, we went to see the Eiffel Tower on Friday night and its twinkling lights that occur at the top of the hour. Then we went to retrieve Joan’s diamond ring that she had lost at Verjus the week before (thank goodness Laura, the co-owner is a honest person). We ate dinner at a nearby brasserie. The food was not good but we had a lot of fun with the waiter–not kidding, his name was Pierre– who fell in love with Abby. We went to see Victor Hugo’s house near the Place de Vosges on Saturday.Sunday we visited the castle at Versailles. With Abby on crutches it was impossible to go see Marie Antoinette’s hamlet which is my favorite part of Versailles but everything there is fascinating. The history. The gardens. Its massiveness. Monday night we went to the Moulin Rouge. Those poor dancers–and by dancers I mean the skinny topless women who can do the splits–are entirely emaciated. The show was Janet’s treat to us for letting her and Abby sleep on our couch. I am really glad we went. My favorite part was watching a heavy set, 60 something British women just go crazy with applause after every act.
Joan and I got up and went to school Monday morning. Strictly interpreted, that is to say that I went to school and Joan kept on going to the Luxembourg Gardens. Suffice to say that Joan has quit school. I have gone all week and have just tomorrow left. Then I’m on to a new chapter of my Paris life.