This Week

It appears that my updating-every-moment stint is over, as was inevitable.

GOD this was the longest week of my life. I suppose counting down the days until I leave for Clovis's house didn't help, but still! Lordy.

Oh, and it turned out to be 79€ ... not 77. That's 2€ more fun I want to experience ...

Anyhow, this weekend was quite orhegerqngvud, which, in Exasperated-Typing-on-the keyboardrd language means it was rather blah. That is ... until Friday.

I was innocently leaving the foyer at school (it's a room where bored students hang out during free hours and récréation) when a girl in my class named Janique told me that there was someone who wanted to see me. She pointed to a point behind me and I turned ... there was a table with fifteen, twenty people surrounding it, regarding me with an uncanny eagerness in their eyes ... can't wait to interrogate the American!!

And interrogate, they did. I was asked about everything under the sun: where do I come from? What's my favorite music? Do I prefer France or America? Do I like George Bush (hah!)? Do I have a boyfriend? Have I ever been to California? Have I ever been to New York? Have I head or 50 Cent/Eminem/whomever--usually a rap artist? Are American boys (as they put) "more beautiful" than French boys? Who has the best accent when speaking English? What do I want to do after school? When am I leaving? Will I ever come back? etc, etc, etc ...

At some point, the questioning was taken over by a girl and some guy with her (her boyfriend, I presume), who said it was their "dream to live in America!" ... Although, she said New York City and he said Los Angeles. She was patiently asking me questions for a while, with his backup and all of a sudden, I looked around and ... there must have been fifty people surrounding the table listening to what we were saying. It was absolutely crazy. Even though it was mostly those two (I remember no one's name, seeing as I met so many people!) asking me direct questions, other question were in a constant flow from all directions around me.

Eventually, though, the hour ended and most of those people had class. One boy dragged me off to his English class where the teacher spent most of the class time asking me questiaboutabot why I was in France. She ended up concluding that she was very flattered I had taken such an interest in French and she said I was welcome in that class anytime.

After that hour I still had one more before my last class (Fridays are so stupid when I have to go to French aid) so I went to the salle de permanance, where people work ... or "work." I really had nothing to do so I opened my journal and started an entry. It hadn't been two minutes before Nasser, a boy in my class (in France they have the same people in virtually every class) came in and started talking to me. After then, whenever someone entered the room he would say to them, "Hey, this is Leah. She's American," and soon there was a small group of people surrounding me again.

That was broken up shortly by The One Guy Who Always Is In A Bad Mood Or Something when he came into the room and informed us that it is a room for work and we weren't working ... so he kicked most of them out.

It didn't last long, though. Soon, people came back including one guy who spent some time in England for something ... don't remember why. And another guy who I had seen before and he stuck out in my memory for some reason.

I found out during this time that a lot of French people my age prefer American accents (ie: my accent) to the Oxford British ones of the professors. That's right, they like the horrid nasally vowels! Go figure.

That's all for now. I have several projects to do this weekend (Project: Clean My Bedroom Including the Bathroom, Project: Organize All My School Junk, and Operation: Plan What Clothes to Bring to Clovis's House So I Know What to Wash).

As you can see, I am frightfully busy.

Love always,
Leah
(Léa)