1. I mentioned before about being extremely nosy and this includes eavesdropping on people's text messages whenever possible, the intention being to see what text-speak is like in french. "k tu fais? pas bcp. c cool. ct aprm? mdr. atte ^^" (translation: what are you doing? Not a lot. That's cool. This afternoon? Haha. See you later :) ). The best place to do it is the metro which is kind of funny as it's obviously underground... Or when I'm standing behind someone texting on the escalator down to the metro. I think text-speak, while annoying in English (but funny when spoken...), is more interesting and exotic in another language. The new private students I have send me "textos", often in French, and it usually takes me a few minutes to decode what it is they're trying to tell me. Which I kind of dig. And while we're on this subject, I introduced one of my classes to common text speak in English (e.g., omg, brb, btw, lol, even wtf) and one of the older men burst out, "I know the LOL! Lots of laughs!" He was so excited, I almost didn't want to correct him.
2. A couple weeks ago, I had to take a bus across the city to Blagnac, past where the airport is to meet a potential student. During the very crowded ride, I was standing next to perhaps the douchiest looking french teenager I've ever seen. If I had to give you all some kind of idea of what he looked like, he had a sort of Cristiano Ronaldo look about him and I mean this in an obviously negative way -- Cristiano Ronaldo looks like the kind of guy you look at and want to punch. Real hard. This dood had hair sopping with product, the huge cubic zirconia earrings, TIGHT white pants and was listing to his ipod, standing far too close for my comfort. I furtively took out one of my earbuds to see what he was listening to -- it was CRAIG DAVID'S "Seven Days" and I couldn't hold back the lullz when I realized this. He was like the epitome of a french guido. Oh man, such a douche. I needed to share.
3. I have discovered some fun parts of being a foreigner and non-native speaker to the language, one of which I will share... It is knowingly making grammatical mistakes and then blaming it on being an anglophone, like I don't know any better. For example, in French, most of the time you can feminize words that need to agree with it's subject, like "paresseux" turns into "paresseuse." Merde alors, je suis tellement paresseuse. Certain words, however, have no feminine agreement, like professor or engineer or architect -- "un professeur" should become une professeuse, but it doesn't. And I have a problem with that. Why is a professor only a masculine profession?! Although I am not technically an English professor as it were, I am according to the French language. And I do what I want. I tell people, "oui, je donne les cours en anglais. Je suis professeuse d'anglais." And just as they're about to correct me (cause they always do), I cut them off and continue babbling and therefore consider myself having got away with the grammar faux pas. And I have absolute faith that this will catch on eventually (ha.... ha. ha).
4. What is up with French people and their coats? It's almost 65 degrees outside, sunny and beautiful. You don't need those boots, ridiculous scarf and oversized wooly coat. A sweater will suffice. Especially on the metro. You smelly, sweaty people.
5. So, I'm doing more private lessons after advertising myself on leboncoin (which is basically like the french Craig's List). But I'm quickly finding that while it's great to get tax-free cash in hand at the end of the lesson, people are extremely unreliable. Maybe I should modify that statement. French people are the most unreliable. Unless I'm literally standing in front of the person I'm meeting with, there is always the chance that they'll cancel on me and this past week has been a disaster. I got about six responses from people wanting private lessons, all of whom I was able to arrange meetings with downtown where we shared a cafe and discussed what they wanted. I liked everyone I met (no weirdos) and I was glad to finally be able to make some extra money. Until, Monday morning AND evening lesson, cancelled (even after I walked thirty minutes to meet her). Tuesday afternoon, rescheduled. Thursday evening, can't make it anymore. I was ready with my lessons plans, ready to be busy and make money... AUGH. How frustrating.
just watchin' the moon rise over town.
Aie. La france, je t'aime, même quand je te déteste. I'm going to Paris this weekend which I'm super stoked for. We'll have to see how another adventure with the SNCF goes. Please be good to me; I want to like you, I really do.
xoxo
