I tried to scan my exam onto the blog but to no avail. You’ll just have to take my word for it. French is kicking my butt. It isn’t so much frustrating as embarrassing. On my right sits H. who looks, and I’m not exaggerating, like that slow dinosaur from the Land Before Time. On my left sits D. who may or may not be competing in next years Miss Mexico pageant.
It is odd to have my 23rd birthday only a week away and to be completely tied up in noun conjugation and placement of adjectives. And I don’t get it. I always leave out an e or a u or both. I am not really worrying that much about accents and my speaking accent leaves a lot to be desired.
But I did finally brave the scary kitchen guy and set up a time for him to stop by. I turned on the garbage disposal while a spoon was in it. I DIDN”T KNOW and cannot get it out. He was so nice, charming even. I can never tell what his mood will be. I flashed him a nipple once and things have never been the same with us (the same thing happened with Daniel Wallace oddly enough).
So I’m off to bed before a busy day of Thanksgiving planning. I’m thinking a lot of Turkey, Wild Turkey that is, and maybe a little stuffing.
