Yesterday was insanity at its best. I didn't want to be alive at all yesterday, so instead of immediately getting ready for class, I got on facebook and answered some messages. I also had about five emails from Mom about my upcoming Barcelona vacation that I needed to answer. I finally dragged myself away from my computer at 7:37 and started to get dressed. I made a cup of extra sugary coffee and got to work. I finished my makeup by 7:52. I made a nutella sandwich and got dressed in my fleece tights, black pants (which now only fit if I have the fleece tights underneath them; I didn't know that pants could sag in the knees), black long-sleeved shirt, and striped sweater. The long sleeved shirt was a little longer than the sweater but I didn't care. I didn't want to be dressed anyway.
I left the apartment at 8:12 because I had to print my French composition. I got to school and printed my composition. It came out on red paper. Who leaves colored paper in the printer?!!!! I know a thing or two about copy machines so I just opened the draw that my page had come out of. I then asked Kate if there was white paper. She was seemed really mad and razzled that I would even think to open the door. She was especially made that I closed the drawer with my foot...it wasn't a hard kick. I never bend over to do things if I don't have to. She explained that she had seen my paper come out red and had added more white paper. I said okay and went back to print my composition. It didn't print. I printed it again. I saw nothing. I then waited a second and both sheets appeared. I hate that printer.
I went upstairs to drop off my stuff and then went back downstairs for a second. I went back upstairs and still had to wait for class to start. Our professor didn't come to class until 8:45. Why do I show up for class on time every morning and our professor is always late?! Class finally started and we started to learn about the conditional. I was super confused. The book states that the conditional is just the imparfait endings added to the entire verb instead of the root. She was explaining it like it was the future which it totally isn't. She sometimes doesn't explain things very well at all. It's so much easier to learn out of the book before I even go to class. Next up was an exercise about the conditional that said "si j'étais...(une chanson), je serai..." She asked me what movie I'd be, and I said that I'd be Girl, Interrupted (I was thinking that I'd be that movie because I'm a fairly normal, yet crazy girl living in an even crazier house. I literally live in the mad house.). Of course she hadn't heard of it so I said that it was an indie film which she mistakenly heard as "Indian." She went on a tangent about it and then Julian had to explain that I meant "indépendant" and not "Indian."
Next up some of us (including me, very reluctantly) read our compositions. I hate reading in front of the class. My accent is terrible and I just want to hide. After the torture we took a break for a solid half hour. I was downstairs reading peacefully, but then the other classes went back inside. I just couldn't sit downstairs any longer when my gut said that we should be in class. I went back upstairs to an empty room. I wish that we could have stayed on break forever. Things were going to get way worse.
Our professor passed out the practice exam for our final. I was expecting to see things from chapters 9-14 which I've been studying. It turns out that the exam is going to be over chapters 6-14; literally material that we covered in August (okay fine, September) during the practicum (which is technically a separate course than this French class!). I wouldn't hide my stress and anguish. I started to work on the exam which started off with a nice review of the passé composé which I've basically forgotten how to do since I always cheat on my compositions and other work. I couldn't keep it inside anymore. The girls next to me where talking about getting food and things that have nothing to do with French and I just couldn't take it anymore. I couldn't concentrate and the stress finally got to me. I began to cry in class. I knew that I shouldn't be crying so only a few tears rolled down my face and I started sniffing heavily. I started to cry even more when we started to go over portions of the exam. I couldn't believe this was happening to me. I felt so overwhelmed and stressed out. I just couldn't take it anymore. Let's just say that I did not give our professor good reviews when the class evaluations were passed out before class ended.
I couldn't believe it. I walked home, very slowly, in a daze. I was completely numb. I just didn't know what to do. I finally got upstairs and started to cry before even locking the door. I checked facebook and saw a message from Lauren containing two cute pictures of dogs. I then started a crying fit that lasted for about 20 minutes. I finally got myself together enough to go to my desk and outline one of my histories essays. I was only going to outline, but I just started composing an essay by accident. It just kinda happened. There were lots of parenthesis and arrows, but it was an essay. I felt so much better after that. I always feel better about life when I'm writing. I was so distraught that I actually forgot to have lunch; I guess the nutella that I stress ate counts as lunch. I got dressed, this time wearing my rainbow t-shirt and no tights under my pants (which I regretted because my pants wouldn't stay up), and grabbed my pop paper. In my list few moments of freedom I listened to "It's all Right." It's one of my favorite songs to play on my record player. It actually made me slightly happier.
I walked to class and handed in my paper. I saw Victor at the stapler and he asked how my paper was doing. I retorted that it was better than his. His comeback was that it probably was, but that six points wasn't worth it. I might hate him. We went to class and Victor sat in my row! I let him have it the entire class. I jokingly wanted him gone, but in actuality his presence was driving me insane. I still managed to get some really valuable material out of the review session. We talked about the format of the final (6 song IDs [including 2 songs that we've never heard and at least one song from the midterm], 5 multiple choice, and and essay). The essay is going to compare chanson, rap, and EDM and how it relates to the question of music and identity. Easy peasy. We did the review and then did the class evaluations.
I ran to Hema to pick up some Christmas cards for the few people on my list who have yet to get cards from Paris from me and then went to the post office to go get stamps. I figured that I'd write them this weekend and then just slip them in the post when I was done without worrying about when the post office was open. After that I went home to study. Since I was meeting Jordan and the other students at seven (thus had to get dressed and out the door by 6:30) and it was already past 2:30 I knew that I couldn't stress out about my studying too much. Just a cursory review would have to do. I'm glad that I had a reason to skip studying. After my meltdown earlier in the day I really needed some time to relax.
I started off by writing my second histories essay. Everything went fine with that. I then turned to working on the French practice exam. I only gave it about an hour and fifteen minutes. I had to goole a lot of things because my professor doesn't state on the exam exactly how she wants you to answer the question. She will pose the question in the format that she wants you to answer it (ask it in imparfait if she wants an imparfait answer) which is immediately confusing for me. I did my best to wade through everything and the exam started to become clearer for me. I'm aiming to get an 80% on the exam. The rest of my grades in the class are high As so I don't need to score that high to get an A in the class overall. I'm still freaking out.
After studying for French I took a shower and did my makeup. My earlier crying session had really done a number on my face. I fixed it the best I could and then applied red lipstick to distract from everything else. I put on a black dress and my sweater for the leopard face on it and then started to review songs for pop. Mindy had said that any of the songs that she had sent us were up for grabs even if she hadn't talked about them in class. I thought that I'd just look through her emails and see which songs I was missing. I had totally forgotten that she had sent us these links with like 20 rap songs to listen to. I ended up listening to almost all of those and then going through the tutorial links she had sent us (orchestral sounds, how to make a hip hop beat, etc). By that time I had to get dressed and out the door. I only had time to look up a few of the links for the older songs. Oh well. I had had enough for one day.
I got dressed and started to walk to the bar. The second I got outside I felt a rain drop; within minutes it was sprinkling heavily. I just hopped that it wouldn't poor as I walked over. I took my well known route: rue de lyon, cross the bridge, turn right on Sully, left on Henri IV, continue onto Pont Sully, past the Monde du Arabe. Then I had to figure out which one of the four off shoot streets was Saint Germain. It wasn't too hard to find. It's the street that isn't right next to the Seine. I started walking and then saw one of the streets that was on the directions. I had written down the walking directions and the ones for the metro just in case I got lost. I figured that I'd just turn on this street and hopefully find where I was going. I turn and then kept walking, I then found the next street I was supposed to be on and turned again. I got a bit lost but finally found Montagne de Sainte Geneviève. I walked up the hill and almost missed the bar. It was a hole in the wall in the center of the block. I looked inside and now one was there yet; the bar was entirely empty. I was only three minutes late so I thought that I'd waste time until the others arrived. I went and sat on a divider in front of Sainte Geneviève and watched people pass by. I thought that if some of my friends had taken the same route that I did then I would spot them on their way to the bar. I waited until 7:15 and didn't see anyone. I thought that I'd just go to the bar and get a drink while waiting for them.
I got to the door and saw Jordan and his long hair standing in the back of the bar. Remy and Alex were already there and so was a girl that Jordan introduced to me as a fellow Parisian who had taught at UCSB. It was a little weird at first but once we started drinking we all got along like old friends. I ordered a light beer that was on tap. It was only four euros since it was happy hour and it came with a lemon wedge. One of Jordan's friends Charles also came to meet us. We would drink for a bit and then the professor I didn't know and Charles would put on their coats and go somewhere. It turns out that they were outside smoking. Parisians. We talked about Kelly for a long while. It turns out that Kelly was in Jordan's French class and had been failed out of his class and the girl professor's class. Jordan said that she would go to his office hours for the entire time and just talk to him about her life. Remy said that she was stalking Matt from our program and was really sketchy about it. Jordan said that no one would do exercises with Kelly in class so she would do them alone. out loud. performing both parts. That girl is so strange. We talked a lot about the French classes and Jordan teaching.
After awhile everyone decided to get up and go smoke. I stopped smoking years ago so I stayed seated. Charles asked me if I was going to stay inside alone and seemed really worried about it. It turns out that the French don't leave people alone because it's like they don't want them. I put on my coat and went outside. Charles and I talked about tanning and margaritas and we all talked about French culture and American culture. Inside we talked about racism, racial identity, and other super intellectual topics. I had so much fun talking with them. I must admit that I'm not a big fan of Jorge, but I really liked getting to know Alex. We all talked about things we miss from California. Jordan misses his red, convertible PT cruiser. We all miss In n Out. Jordan misses Mr. Pib. Jordan told us that a lot of products from the US are banned in France. There's no Crest in France because it has too much fluoride. He told us that in France a brand of gum called "Hollywood gum" is really popular and he was surprised that they don't sell it in the US; he always thought that it was American. He says that he misses Chili's. We talked about his boyfriend. I had no idea that Jordan had been chosen for the semi finals of America's Next Top Model but was then declined because he was in the states on a work visa. He said that he was willing to give up teaching in a heartbeat to be a model on TV. We also talked about how everyone in France is fit. The Parisians walk so much it's hard to be overweight. He said that there are a lot of French men who are skinnier than he is; he's tiny! I had never thought about it before, but you can't even fit through the metro gate if you're a larger size. You literally can't fit in France if you're overweight.
After awhile at the bar the girl professor (whose name I should look up) asked if we were hungry. We decided to go out in search of food. Outside Jordan said that his boyfriend sometimes looks really ugly in pictures because he furrows his brow. As we were walking we were talking about Jordan's students and how to say it doesn't exist in French. I then worked up the courage to ask Jordan that question I've been dying to know---how old is he. He was really coy about it and didn't want to tell me. He made me guess how old he is. I guessed 24 to be safe. He's actually 22!!!!! On top of that I'm a month older than he is! He said that he never said his age in class because he had a lot of students who were older than him. He looks so much older than I do! I would have never guessed that's younger than me. He's so mature.
We got to Rue Mouffetard and started to look around for something to eat. One of the restaurants that was suggested by the professor and Charles was closed. We then got crepes at the place I had passed last week. The gelato place I was going to last week was still closed. Hmmm. We wanted to find somewhere where we could all sit down and eat. The crepe restaurant is mostly a walk up window with a few seats at a bar downstairs. There is an upstairs loft area that the owner said would be ready by the time we order. The owner had the professor write down all of our orders and then we tramped upstairs. The space was super tiny and we were smooshed next to a family at a four top. The owner came to get the cups and bottles from the patrons that sat at the table and Jordan told him thank you; oh the language interference. We ate our crepes (I got nutella as usual) and talked about food and other things while staring at the walls. They were absolutely covered in tiny and large pictures clipped from really old (like 1960s and 70s) magazines. It was a little creepy but cool at the same time. I've never eaten in an attic before. After we all finished we paid the check and left. We then went outside to smoke and talk about drugs.
Alex and I were going to walk home but Remy persuaded us to take the metro instead because she had to pee. We got into the station and some people bought tickets. Jordan made sure that we all have tickets; he's still taking care of us like he's our professor...even if he's younger than I am. We figured that we were all going in opposite directions. We said our goodbyes and told Jordan to look us up when he got to California; we're going to take him to do the loop. We waved to him from the platform as he rode off on the metro. It was a sad moment. Since it was late the metro had a long wait. We took the 10 to Austerlitz then the five to Bastille and then the one to Gare de Lyon.
By the time we got home it was one minute until midnight. No time to write to you. It's 3:10 on Friday and I've just now finished telling you of all of my adventures. I had a great night.
No comments:
Post a Comment