No speaka French

My future landlady left two contact numbers with the Housing Department at L'Université Catholique de l'Ouest, so in order to get in contact with her I had to call her and speak in French. I wrote out everything I needed to say ahead of time, but when I got her voice mail, the instructions for which were given in French, I got flustered and so my message went something like this:

"Uh, hello, I am Laurel Ryan, uh, American student, rent room. I come September 4 at 5:50, uh, uh, I take taxi at train station, uh, uhÂ…you can me email." And then I gave her the wrong email address because I didn't remember how to say "hyphen" in French. "So, uh, thanks. Bye."

It's gonna be a long while until I stop sounding like I've been concussed. Oh, French.

Three Day Countdown

Well, ladies and gents, the only reason I am posting at this particular time is to ensure that my blog is working. I'm not going to lie, I'm not at all a fan of blogging; in my mind I picture angst-filled tweens breaking up with their boyfriends of one week while dreaming of becoming Sailor Moon. However, I figure that if I'm going to be updating everyone and posting Frenchy pictures at the same time, blogging is the best way to do it. Right now I should be cleaning up my room (yes, sorry Mom and Dad, I'm suffering from an incredible lack of motivation), but hey, this is also very necessary to my survival come France time. So here we go, folks. Here we go.