The Interpreter

I don't really have anything interesting to write but I feel like my faithful readers might be missing me. Anyway, I am in Bordeaux right now committing emotional suicide (direct any questions about that to my personal e-mail address). I am going to start French lessons and am really pumped about it. I have never studied French other than reading a couple chapters of one of those "Learn French in 7 Days" books or whatever. I know much more than I thought.

I was just in Geneva visiting my Japanese homie and I swear I felt like Jason Bourne. First off because I opened a bank account which I have to access with my palm print and retina. I hope those 10 Euros come in handy someday.

Second off, I was speaking in some serious tongues. In a blatant attempt at showing off, I insisted on speaking only Japanese when we were on the tram. She speaks flawless English. It was just a shameless example of me having the locals try to guess what the hell round-eyes was speaking. And guessing they were, I reckon.

And my French? Let's just say it's the beeznus. I was tossing around "C'est combien"s (How much does it cost?) like it was going out of style. When they answered did I understand? No. Once? No. Not even like one little time...like mqybe kinda sorta understand? No. But Rome was not built in a day. I did however successfully buy a phone card, get change for the tram, and have the guy at the shoe store fetch me a shoe from the back to complete the pair on display I wanted to try on....all in French. Like I said, the beeznus. More on my progress later, mes amis. A bientot....