So here I am, blogging from an internet café in Grenoble.  My French improves in fits and starts, but it’s still early days.  One of the problems I have is that I’m not quite thinking in French, but I’m not quite thinking in English.  English words escape me, and my French vocabulary, while not bad, has a lot of strange holes in it.  I mean, comment dit-on doorknob?  Or self-tanner.  I had to look up the word for dental floss (fil dentaire, if I can only remember to buy it).  Sure, I can (and have) discuss Rousseau, or politics, or the theatre.  But the word for can (as in canned food)?  Beyond me.  Still I soldier on, occasionally using le when I should be using la, using the wrong verb morphemes (even though I know better, but my speaking is desperately trying to keep up with my thinking).  My host and her friends have complimented me on my French, saying that my accent is not too pronounced, and that I have a good grasp and I understand a lot.  Sometimes I am confident, but others I think to myself, “there is no way I am ever going to be accepted to nationally-ranked graduate French program.  On verra

Still, I’m having a good time.  Although, I’m still steamed that I let an aggressive French panhandler take 10 Euros off me.  I think I’m more angry because I knew what was going on the entire time, but I lacked the fortitude to stop it.  Mostly because I’m used to panhandlers who take no for an answer.  An expensive lesson to learn, but learn it I have.

I must fly, however.  I don’t want to use up my internet time all in one fell swoop.

A tout!

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