This week marks the end of the summer and the beginning of the French school year, and, had things gone as planned, our own return to the alliance francaise to continue our respective courses. As it currently stands, the Purrito is currently in class, while I am at home in our flat. When last we …
After more than a year in Paris (though our official expatriation anniversary is coming up on Tuesday), I have a certificate that says that I know fuck-all about the French language. (EU language competency levels are located here, for those not in the know) I’d have a celebratory beer (or even better, champagne), but I …
The Purrito and I are heading off to the Alliance française to begin phase 2 of our formal French education. While we’re still irritated at the system glitches that prevented us from being in the same course, I think that we’re both hoping that attending the evening classes at the same building, at the same …
Some 40 hours of one-on-one instruction (broken into 1.5 hour chunks) later, I find myself at the end of my company-allotted French lessons. I am now feeling strangely adrift, and it took more effort than I expected to stop myself from simply sulking through the day. She was nominally “just” a French tutor (whom the …
French has officially infiltrated my stress nightmares. Despite the fact that college will be nine years in the past as of May, I still periodically have the oh-shit-missed-an-exam/failed-an-exam/haven’t-attended-this-class-at-all-and-it’s-the-last-day-of-the-semester dream. Last night, however, brought an interesting variation: my high school German teacher was proctoring a French exam. I completed most of the exam, came to a …
Fezzik In Paris 