Observations, Week One:

Tomorrow marks one my week anniversary of arrival in France! Since it's been nearly one week, I thought it would be a good idea to do a special, one week recap of my observations thus far. Here it goes:

• People can tell you over and over and over again that you speak well and have no accent, but there are days when you STILL feel entirely incompetent. I can't stress that one enough! It's been a bit of (admittedly) an ego boost to have the French tell me that a) I speak very well, so well in fact, that they don't believe this is my first time in France and b) I have no accent. An elderly man took me for a local the other day and asked where the post office was, and when I responded he busted into English and said "You don't have an accent. I can tell you're not from here by the way you speak, but I can't figure out where you're from!" But today my French did not want to work. GAH. It's getting better, but language Queen King over here is impatient.
  

• The French LOVE wearing Converse sneakers. They are EVERYWHERE. Hightops, lowtops, kids, dads, SOCCER Moms. PARIS even! This is why I did the right thing...and brought mine :)

• The national word of France must be "truc," or is it "truque" or ?? Whatever it is, it's used all the time, and it can mean "a thing, a trick, a knack, etc. etc." And it is EVERYWHERE. Just like the sneakers.
  

• French five year olds quickly like to take up residence in your lap and want you to play Justin Bieber, Jay Sean, and Hannah Montana on YouTube for them. Oh, and sing it for them while they are in the bathtub.

• I'm not homesick, just "people-sick." I don't think I've been culture shocked, and nothing's been really surprising, probably because France is (obviously) a very Western civilization, but if I miss anything above all, it's people. I miss my friends and family and oh lord, do I miss texting friends to tell them RANDOM as hell things only they could appreciate (you know who you are, and I love you for it). I've met people here, but haven't really had a chance to get to know them well (yet) which should change, but yes. I miss you fools. Venez nombreux me rendre visite!
  

• FRENCH BOYS ARE PRETTY. DROOL. Oh, so pretty. And they totally pull off that metro look with out a stitch of gay-dar. As I was discussing earlier with a friend who agrees with me that Eros, the Greek God of Love, likes to make a comedic soap-opera complete with lighting, baroque costumes, and the fat lady out of my (lack thereof a) love life, Berkeley was not particularly kind in terms of the dating scene. However, if (of all places ON EARTH) he decides to curse me in PARIS, I will take that as a grand sign that I'm eternally cursed and meant to hole up permanently in the Ivory Tower, also known as the Grand Cloister for the Intellectually Promising and Socially Inept. Get thee to a nunnery.
  

• My new favorite acronym is PFF. Yes, that's right, shout-out to my new favorite acronym/adjective hybrid: Pretty Fucking French. Excuse my French. So many times I've wanted to use this!

• Apparently some of you are taking bets on whether or not I will ever return. This is hilarious, because Stef (host mom) had some friends over for a bit earlier last week. Izzy, her friend since freshman year of high school (4th year at lycee), went and worked as an au pair in California when she was my age, married an American named Dave from Fresno, and never returned! She's been in the states for 19 years and they live in Hawaii now. When I explained that I promised my parent's I'd return, Jean-Luc asked if I had a boyfriend. I said no. He replied "Then you can't make any promises!" But if I had to bet on it: sorry folks, I'm 90% sure I'lllllll be back. I'm too stubborn to let you all win ;)

I'm sure I'll have more to say later....Au revoir!

--L.