Three years in a foreign country can change a person. Not me! I'm stubborn past the point of reason! So, two years after the first, I've made another list of things that I'll never find it in me to adapt to.
- Anytime someone dictates their phone number to me in French, I come to the pathetic realization that I still have difficulty counting above 70. Four-twenty-ten-eight, what kind of sadistic fool decided that this was the best approach to 98?? Elementary school-aged children will know where I'm coming from on this one (holla!).
- The subjunctive continues to be the wretched and persistent thorn in my ability to speak properly.
- Every time someone talks to me about a distance, I have to get out my phone to convert into feet or miles.
- Same goes for kilos and pounds.
- Conversely, celsius makes far more sense now than fahrenheit. Just deal with it.
- I refuse to buy into the French notion of "salad." Apparently you can have a tomato salad here -- just tomatoes, nothing else. Where I'm from, that's a garnish.
- I'm not sure I'll ever get used to having to bisou people that I've just met and will probably never see again.
- I love cheese, but I've given up on ever coming around to fondue or raclette. It smells like feet!
- This one should be really easy in principle, but saying bon appetit just before starting to eat with someone is something I can't do. Saying it makes me feel like a douchebag server at a restaurant and those days are behind me!
- Accepting the French national sport of cutting in line. I can't even with this one.
To finish, here's a picture of the world's cutest dog:
you're welcome.
