The deed is done. I will be studying abroad in Grenoble this fall.
I have submitted the registration documents. I have called via calling card to paid via credit card. I have received my acceptance letter.
Funny story… (isn’t there always?)
Me: MOM. WHAT IF I CALL AND THEY ONLY SPEAK FRENCH? I HAVEN’T PRACTICED IN LIKE 2 YEARS. WHAT DO I DO?
Mom: that’s why you’re calling and not me!
Me: I MEAN, WE’VE BEEN EMAILING IN ENGLISH. THAT SHOULD MEAN THAT SOMEONE SPEAKS ENGLISH RIGHT? WHAT IF THEY REJECT ME BECAUSE I SUCK AT FRENCH WHILE TRYING TO PAY FOR FRENCH LESSONS?
Me: AND YOU KNOW HOW BAD MY HEARING IS.
I know, it’s very American of me to freak out like this. But I was prepared to speak broken (crumbled, shattered) French. Even if I just started spouting my credit card information.
On the phone…
phone: you have 7 minutes
Me: IT WILL TAKE ME 10 MINUTES JUST TO ASK IF ANYONE SPEAKS ENGLISH
me: UH. UH. EST-KUH UH VOO PARLAY ANGLAY?
5 minutes into the conversation, my grandpa ears struggling,
It’s a pretty good feeling to finally make plans into a reality. And it was a slow process, actually.
Here are some pictures:
Sorry if I don’t make sense. It’s finals week(s)—thank you Michigan, for always staggering finals to encompass a weekend (do you hear the English nerd in me?)—and I don’t have anything until the 28/30. During this time, I need to carefully study 5 Shakespeare plays and create this drawing that symbolizes my experience in PCAP.
I’m getting fat, oy.