In an effort to use the French that I have been studying on and off for almost a year, I decided to book a train to Montreal with my French boyfriend. I figured if I got into serious conversational trouble, he could bail me out.
What follows is an account of the trip. You will feel many sensations while reading this account. One, hatred. You may begin to hate me. You may think I am self-indulgent and narcissistic. This is totally acceptable. Two, love. You may actually fall in love with me. Notice how I have not included my address as to avoid love letters. Just know that I like you as a friend. Yes, I have friend zoned you. Three, admiration. You may feel a swelling sensation, like, “Wow, this woman is incredible! So daring! She barely knows this language yet is already making plans to go to French speaking countries.” Four, pity. You may feel kind of bad for me, like, wow, what a mess of a person. She doesn’t seem that smart. Rest assured, I got a 3.72 in college. I am incredibly smart. Do not fear. Five, gentle adoration. You may realize that I am a human, probably much like yourself (if you are a dog or other animal, then, disregard that last part). You may feel a sense of camaraderie. Perhaps you have tried to learn a language or remember your awkward days in high school speaking to a class full of jerks, I mean, other students. You may recall how much you hated language classes. You may begin to sympathize with me and write me encouraging things. This would be helpful. I encourage sensation number five.
Okay, make yourself a coffee and start the adventure avec moi!