Comment vous dites “chow?”

Today was a pretty successful day, which is good because my last day in the US should be a day of productivity, I guess. I’m 96% packed and can manage to eat the inside of bread, so I’m safe when it comes to les baguettes a Paris. Fewf! But the butterflies in my stomach are going crazy now. I wasn’t nervous when I left for college – it felt like it had been such a long time coming that I was ready to go as soon as they let me – so I’m not really sure if what I’m feeling is nerves or excitement. It’s probably both, although I’m finding it hard to find the excitement which is mixed in so well among the anxiety, questions and jitters that I’m experiencing.

I guess my main fear is communicating. Strange because anyone who knows me knows that I’m a compulsive networker who could talk to a wall (I try not to do this too often). But diagnosing the problem is step one to fixing it, right? My French is, to say the least, rusty after an entire summer off. I’ve heard of the magic of “once you’re there, it’ll all come back to you” so I’m hoping that I can wave my magic wand (of course, I have one) and create some space in my brain for a new language. Either way, I’ve got a crash course in francais coming at me straight away. First word I’ve got to look up: chow. Then I can at least tell my former NBC co-workers that lunchtime is the same in Aix as it is at NBC.

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