I have taken seven years of French. I can order a crepe and a glass of red wine. Additionally, I have ordered a Jesus steak, but we will get to that later.
At any rate, my French is super crap, seriously mediocre. Regardless, I have ventured to France with poor friend A in tow, in order to eat many crepes and drink many glasses of red wine. I was a bit afraid to enter the nation of macaroons and bald soccer (futball) players, not to mention that weird skunk guy on Les Loony Tunes, but I went ahead, bravely going where many tres stupide American etudiantes have gone before.
1. Crepes are awesome.
2. Wine is better.
3. Let me tell you our tale.
This past week, my boyfriend visited me during Cornell’s spring break, and so I celebrated as if it were mine, too (SPRING BREAK 2009!).
Maybe it wasn’t as buckwild as Cancún would have been, but we did do a lot of touristy things, as one might expect. The most shocking and disappointing realization to come of these was that the Louvre kind of sucks. Like, really.
Last Tuesday in Paris, I was at last psyched and actually kind of proud to be an American. After spending nearly two weeks trying hard to cloak my accent and telling all the lecherous dudes that I was vacationing from South Africa because I wanted to experience the cold (and no, I’m really not interested in grabbing a cup of coffee with you), January 20th might have been the only day during my whole abroad experience that I am allowed — and almost encouraged — to speak in full-blown American English (i.e. pronouncing all of my R’s).