Barbs' b-day celebration

Guess what the theme is?

Native Americans, because of course.

This is not real life.

The sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me

All too polite and just a little too friendly

While in the UK, I was constantly made fun of by a certain Mr. Sam Doyle for thanking everyone "sooo much" for the most meaningless of tasks, i.e. someone scanning my boarding pass or handing me a napkin and a receipt with my croissant. According to him, a simple "thank you" normally suffices.

Before Sam ever-so-subtely pointed it out to me *sarcasm*, I had never noticed how (ob)noxious my over-politeness actually is. From that week on, I have tried - to the best of my abilities - to save "sooo much" for special occasions.

This has changed how I interact with folks, especially when it comes to French. Avoiding "so much" has spared me the embarrassment of accidentally hitting on everyone I know. "Thank you so much"  translates into "merci beaucoup" in French. Merci is easy enough to say; however, beaucoup is a little bit of a disaster when pronounced with an American accent. "How?" you might ask. Funny story. Broken  down, "beau" means handsome or beautiful, and "cul," which is how we tend to pronounce "coup," means ass. Put that all together and...

"Give me a 'beau'!"
"BEAU!"
"Give me a 'cul'!"
"CUL!"
"What does that spell?!"

Thank you, you sexy ass, you!

Wise words from Miss Piggy

"Beauty is in the eye of the beholder and it may be necessary from time to time to give a stupid or misinformed beholder a black eye."

Can't eat salsa, so I guess I'ma have to dance it instead.

Took my second Salsa class. I was so embarrassed about my performance the first time around that I waited a couple months before forcing myself to return. Unfortunately, neither my professor nor my classmates had forgotten about me, which accounted for the knowing winks and smiles made in my direction.

One of my partners tried to help me out by translating (interesting, seeing as he doesn't speak English) - little does he know that my problems with Salsa have nothing to do with the language barrier. It's more of a mind-body barrier. As in, I might see what you're doing, but I can't follow on account of my spaghetti limbs having a mind of their own.

As bad as I am, however, I am improving. This last time, I only messed up half of the time as opposed to three quarters. My classic fail is turning the wrong way. Also, I tend to dance with a grimace, because I am in a constant state of confusion and/or terror. But then again, my dance faces have never been... well... attractive. Can't wait to go back next Thursday and gradually suck less.

Some quick notes (seeing as I am incapable of that whole thing called "being consistent"):

Over break, I...

• Visited Copenhagen, England (Bexhill, Leicester and London) and Edinburgh. 
• Lost my voice, because my grandmother never allowed me to stop talking.
• Stopped being able to breathe, because I am allergic to cats and spent a week with 4 of them.
• Ate a lot of chocolate and sat on the couch - I couldn't fit in my pants by the time I got to London, where I used a drier on my jeans for the first time in four months - holy christ, harsh but really funny reality!
• Had a good giggle or two with friends and family (the Schofields in Copenhagen, my dad's fam in Bexhill and Leicester, and Sam Doyle, who wins the award for best travel partner, in London and Ediburgh).
• Danced with everybody and their brother on New Years in London after watching the fireworks display at Big Ben and the London Eye (immediately afterwards, I joined a congo line, disappeared into the crowd, partook in at least 5 different dance-offs and received kisses from two hoards of Indian men.)

Since I have been back, I...

• Have learned to take a more relaxed approach to school, a.k.a. if a class starts at 8:30 a.m., and I'm not receiving credit for it, I think I'll just come after the break, thank you!
• Have done a little self-pampering - spas and saunas are my jam.
• Have taken a theatre class - if anyone wants to hear about the time(s) that I lost what was left of my dignity, just ask me about this course. Improvisation in french... all I am saying.
• Have forgotten how to speak French. I tried to tell my host mom about that one time Elizabeth accidentally dyed all of her clothes blue by putting her her black jeans in with her whites; however, I confused the words "laundry machine" and "dishwasher", so I ended up saying that she put her pants into the latter. Barbs just looked at me, cocked her head and asked, "Why would she do that?"
• Have bought a garter belt - the last time I wore tights, I started muttering angrily to myself in public (they kept falling down), so I figured something had to give. I've resigned to buying myself lots of lingerie as opposed to actual clothing. By the time I return, everything I own will have disintegrated, but at least I will be nudeing about in style.

Soon I will be:

• Taking Contemporary Philosophy, Spanish, Comparative Literature (the theme is robots - yes, yes, yes!), Drawing and Salsa. 
• Teaching an English course to French high school students.
• A salsa master.

I feel like like that's a pretty good summary of what is/has been been going on in my life more recently. If I think of something else - there are always more embarrassing stories to share - then I will let you know.

Oh, and I'm knitting again!

Coloring your feelings is probably better than eating them.

The other day, I received 4 giant-ass coloring books by Taro Gomi in the mail. What a dream! Shout out to Carlisle, who recognizes that coloring is the way to my sanity. You know someone 1. cares 2. is looking out for you, when you receive a bunch of self-help and children's books shipped all the way from the US of A.

Par contre, Amazon.com get yo act together! A month is not expedited shipping. Hooligans... Now, who wants to send me some crayons?

I'll teach you mine if you teach me yours: language lessons

Study abroad is about making exchanges, right?

Well then, it seems I have done my duty as a foreign exchange student. Patrice, my host pops, is currently in the other room screaming "SHIT" over and over again at the top of his lungs. Why? Because he can't seem to do right by the house's wiring. What do I mean by that? That I am writing this post in the dark.

Oh, how I love DIY construction and LMFAO's "Sexy and I Know It" for playing in the background of Patrice's fury.

Giggling.