Merde!

Salut! I’m sitting in the ice country, in Terre Adélie (Antarctic land owned by France) hunched over my ice laptop churning this message to the world out.  You mentioned that we should “meet up sometime” so I thought you meant now, like here near the Great Southern Ocean.  Was that not correct?  Did I get the time wrong?   I wore a dress made out of snowflakes and braided my hair with ice.  I wanted to look nice, but j’ai peu froid! Wait, my cell phone made out of icebergs is melting so I can’t quite hear you!

How’s French class going? you ask.  Oh you didn’t ask that?  I thought you did.  Actually, I have no idea what you just said because you’re speaking really quietly and I feel like you might be reading an article on your computer or something while you are talking to me, but, if you did ask that, then let me tell you.

It’s going super well.

One, I have realized that I do not need to be the number one student in French class.  I am really happy being in the “mid-range.”  I feel that my intense interest in France makes up for any real “skill” I may possess.  

Two, we are learning about “travail.”  Work.  We read a lot about it in our French text book.  There’s this woman, Dominique.  Personally, I don’t really like her.  She’s always talking to this really annoying guy (I forgot his name but just think of a really annoying French name) and he’s like, “Es-tu celibaire?  As-tu enfants?” And she’s like, “Je voudrais une fenetre dans mon bureau!”  And I’m like, oh mon dieu, if I ever work in France do I just have to like be hit on by this dicey guy and why can’t she just have a window in her office or just realize that maybe she doesn’t want to work at this company.  Maybe this isn’t the best fit for her.  She sort of seems like a more “work from home” type of person.  And then like everyone who we meet in the book is an “infomaticienne.”  I’m not even exactly sure what an informaticienne is.  A computer scientist?  Like an IT person?  Or like a programmer?  This summer when I go to France, I really hope most people I meet are “informaticiennes.”  If not, I’m in big trouble.  I think I’ll just ask them if they have a window in their office and leave it at that.

I have made even more French friends than last time we spoke.  There is this new French friend and we do cool stuff together like go running and talk about our cats.  She is tres intelligent au sujet de chats.  She is also really just very smart in general.  I like that about her.  I also like that she teaches me secret things about French culture.  Like, for instance, she told me that before a French actor goes on stage, instead of saying what Americans say “break a leg,” you say, “Merde!” (shit!)  I really hope I become friends with a French actor.  I can follow them to their plays and be like “Merde!  Beaucoup Merde!  Merde it up mon ami!”  Then they’ll be like, “Wow, Americans are so knowledgeable about France and that’s more luck than I’ve ever gotten in my life.  This performance is going to be amazing.”

Wait, what?  You aren’t coming at all?  Oh.  Okay.  I’ll just go drink an ice water by myself at the ice bar.  Maybe we could meet up closer to you next time?  Just text me the details.  If I haven’t frozen through, I’ll reply.

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10 Replies to “Merde!”

  1. So, you don’t know me at all, but I do love reading your blog. And, now that I have begun Rosetta Stone French, I chuckle every time I read the title. Love your style. Keep writing! And I’ll keep chipping away at the stone, but let’s face it, I just want to make Julia Child’s roast chicken recipe.

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