Not as weird as french music.

I have the problem of being unable to reply when asked what I want for Christmas.

The only things I can think of are socks (I ALWAYS need socks) and peanut butter. But I still have half a jar, which has lasted since October 1st.

Sad day.

HOWEVER, the holiday of Thanksgiving (or as the french say, "Sanksgeevin") is upon us. And the spirit of thanksgiving is giving thanks, not giving gifts. For those of you who don't obsessively read the NYTimes, there is a wonderful article about gratitude

http://www.nytimes.com/2011/11/22/science/a-serving-of-gratitude-brings-healthy-dividends.html?_r=1&nl=todaysheadlines&emc=tha210

Regularly feeling gratitude helps you sleep better, makes you a calmer, more optimistic person and a more moral, kinder person. Instead of wishing for those things, perhaps say thank you for what you already have.

I am very grateful to have not one but MANY families I can call my own, around the globe, whom I adore. I am grateful for six amazing grandparents, two wonderful brothers, two awe-striking parents, a Ruthie-parent, two cats (even if one drools), a sister of the soul, my thousands of friends and acquaintances I miss and meet everyday and for my current life. I am truly blessed to have the people and places around me that I do.

I wish I didn't sleepwalk, or lose my temper when my breakfast is insulted. But maybe gratitude will fix those things.

But enough with gooshiness.

Have lately been battling to the death with the subjunctif. I want to throttle this tense alive. I will conquer it, but there will be some major damage done on both sides. Curses.

Quoi de neuf? (what's new?) Watched a weird movie about Vincent Van Gogh (they say his last name "Gogg"), who was a pretty weird guy anyways.

Today we danced Le Rock in dance class (it's super fun, particularly when we play Michael Jackson or Fine Young Cannibals) and Cha-Cha.

I was a child who was raised on Collective Soul, Fine Young Cannibals, Spin Doctors and Shania Twain. And an inordinate amount of ABBA. This diverse collection of tunes has probably done really weird things to my brain. BUT NOT AS WEIRD AS FRENCH MUSIC!

Going to go back to Kato Lomb. Ciao! (bon nuit) (buenos noches)

My Socks Too?

Sometimes (just sometimes) in a world where you don't understand the language, you make people laugh until they cry with the silly misunderstandings you make.

Context: I've written out my home address for my host brother's wife so she can write a letter to my parents.

Host Sister (points to the ground): You can leave the paper on the ground.
Me: What? Is there something wrong with my shoes? I'll go take them off. (I take off my shoes).
Host Sister: Non non non, leave it on the ground.
Me: My socks too?

I got the message after that.

I swear I'm getting better, I correct myself all the time and speeeaaaak sloooowly to diminish my whomping accent (I think it's getting worse).

Currently reading a Chair de Poule novel (GOOSEBUMPS! IT STILL EXISTS) in french. I have an easily awakened imagination, and have to be careful when I read and watch scary things. Being a somnambule (sleep walker) and vivid dreamer, I often reenact scenes. For the sanity of my host family, I only read it over breakfast.

Phrase of the day: Calme-toi.

Calm yourself.