Now, before we talk about your pending open heart surgery, let’s instead talk about my French classes. Oui. Oui.
Okay, first. Let’s start by me saying that after the first class last night, another student commented that I was the “star of the class.” It is unimportant whether or not this student was my mom. What was important is that these classes are really bringing out my real lingua, my natural French tongue. I love pronouncing le mots, the words! C’est magnifique!
Last night we got assigned textbooks. Textbooks which we will have to read many interesting ideas out of–for example, how to say certain types of clothing we are wearing. I will easily breeze through this because my style is amazing. I wonder if there is an expression to say something like, “Doesn’t this bird dress make my legs look more muscular?” I hope there is because I will use that one often–especially on subways.
When I first got to the class, after running across the campus in my most French inspired run–this includes wearing a dress, high heels and holding a baguette in my bag–I wanted to say “Bon soir, Madame. Enchante” when I arrived. However, le professeur immediately started speaking to me in English in a beautiful French accent. I responded by also speaking in a beautiful French accent, but then I realized that I could just speak English in an American accent, so then I subtly changed to that.
The lessons were amazing. The class is fantastic. Also, as a note to all of my readers looking for love–take a French class! Two seemingly single and handsome men are in my class and although I have no need for these 50 and older Americans, one of you, lovely readers, might. France is the language of love. You could ask them out for a simple squid dinner after the class. I don’t know. It’s just a suggestion.
I quickly became the star student by speed reading all of the French words. This was neither annoying, not show offy nor really unnecessary. It was profound. The fellow students exclaimed “Tres Bien!” afterwards and I responded with a demure, “Merci.” I should learn how to say “Thank you my little peasant.” I think this would come across well and I’m sure to make a lot of friends this way.
One important moment of the night is when we were learning accent aigu and accent grave and my professeur put the name, “Hélène” on the board. I laughed at first quietly, but then rather loudly to myself, thinking of my very sophisticated French friend who has the same name. I have spent many half hours before meeting her for coffee with Vincent practicing her name. It is kind of like “A-len” because as our professeur said, never pronounce the “h.”
Anyway, seeing my sophisticated friend’s name on the board reminded me of a recent French club where this sophisticated friend taught me proper scarf attire (please see photos to the left). I am just steps away from emulating her style. I think in these photos I come off with a little bit too much of an attitude–like I am from a different decade wearing a scarf; the way my sophisticated friend styled them was different. She had a certain je ne sais quoi demeanor. It was simple and lovely. I have a lot of work to do. However, I am getting there. Oh yes I am. If all else fails, I will just become a historical actor for France.
Anyway, the French class was a complete success. I hope to attend some of the French conversation hours. Oh wait, what’s that? Lucille is on the phone? I’m sorry I have to take this. She’s my attorney for a small case I’m involved in which involves a stolen peacock. I really can’t say anymore than that.