My family RULES. Somehow I got a perfect fit. They speak French almost exclusively, they like a fine glass of champagne once in a while and last night for dinner they made salad with shrimp, apples, carrots, avocado and vinaigrette. The night before we had crepes with béchamel sauce. Deeelish. I get to come and go as I please, and everyone’s really nice.
Oh but I forgot to mention I’m the lamest host daughter ever. As far as these people are concerned, I have absolutely no personality. I couldn’t figure out what was wrong with me until I realized I’m just REALLY BAD at French. Every language has a different personality – I get to be Bubbles McSarcasm in English and Silly Von Sassmouth in Spanish, but the French person living inside me just happens to be quiet, shy, unimaginative oh yeah and doesn’t know their own language.
“Good Morning! How’s it going? Yes, it’s going. Okay, have a nice day!”
So I smile all through dinner, give a brief description of my day using the words “nice,” “beautiful” and “good,” take a cold bath in a bucket, and go to bed. Thank god for little kids, though. We can connect on our meager conversational levels.
Thing is, though, I’m getting a roommate today. That’s lame. Whoever she is, she’s going to mess up my groove.
I don't wanna share!
by the way, personal space doesn't exist here. they paged through my diary.. good thing they dont speak english..
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