Nothing Says Romance Like Google Translate


And the awards for best and worst parts of the week go to (being an award presenter is on my bucket list, don’t hate):


  • The Chipucabra Of Frenchmen.*Finally the thing that everybody wants to hear about — or more likely just that I want to write about — boys! Now, I have to be honest, I have met a couple VERY cute ones here, and I have always had a weird thing for accents. Although, doesn’t everybody really? I mean, sure Gisele Bundchen (seriously, does anyone know how to spell her name) has perfect features and a bangin’ body, but if she didn’t have that accent from wherever she came from, Leonardo Di’Caprio would have been all “Catch Me If You Can” running away from her from the get-go.** So yeah, where was I? Oh, cute boys. Well, I won’t say too much because I haven’t yet deciphered if their English is fluent enough to read this blog, but I will say that I like to attribute my romantic success in this country to the fact that I can’t talk as much…guys seem to like that!


    This is me on my way to a night out in Lille! Little known fact: French people drink exclusively out of coffee cups, and always while they are by bathroom sinks. Just kidding, I’m just weird.

  • Is It Too Creepy To Ask If I Can Take Pictures Of Their Children? Meeting the French family that I am going to be tutoring for was definitely the highlight of my week, and the free wine didn’t hurt much either. As I devoted my previous post to this, I won’t say too much more, except that it was nice to be around a family again. It’s very easy, and fun I might add, to get caught up in the craziness that is Europe. So, I really loved being in a more PG atmosphere, even if only for a night. Plus, I am excited to indoctrinate their little boy to like AMERICAN football, not this soccer nonsense. I will also be ensuring that the little girls take the proper side in the Britney/Christina rivalry (I’ll give you a hint: cheetos and shaved heads).
  • FINALLY A Sport Here I Can Play – WHILE Drinking. Our dorm got a ping pong table! So, in short, it’s about to get real. Thanks to our neighbors at home having a ping pong table, and my brothers’ and my lack of shame in asking to use it, I got skills (that was weird, sorry guys, for a second I thought I was in Stomp The Yard). The only problem I have now is learning the appropriate amount of shit-talking when I am playing French residents. The best I know how to say so far is “your face is bad”….any suggestions would be appreciated.


    This is for all my non-American friends who looked at me like I was Charlie Sheen when I said I missed pumpkin spice lattes. Every white girl in America goes crazy over this splendid creation, myself included.


  • The Fork Thief. So we have a common kitchen in our dorm, and someone is stealing EVERYTHING – pots, pans, plates, cheese (ok, I stole a piece of cheese from one person I will admit, but it was past 3 am, therefore I am not responsible for my actions). I am actually pretty annoyed, because there are supposed to be common kitchen utensils that everyone shares, but now I am going to have to go buy a bunch of stuff for myself, that I will subsequently have to throw away before I leave. One person is just ruining it for everybody! It’s like when you have a class and the teacher forgets to ask for the homework which a bunch of people, including you, didn’t do. You get to the end of the class and you think you’ve made it home free, and then there’s always that ONE person who has to ask, “What about our homework?”.*** I want to know why presidential candidates aren’t discussing the issue of getting rid of these terrible creatures…let’s focus on the important stuff guys.
  • When Your Classmates Are Eligible For Senior Citizens Discounts. So Marquette being Catholic, and going to a Catholic university here, I decided to take a theology class. Theology classes are on a different schedule than the others, so it just started last week. I walk into the class, all excited to learn about God and all that, when I learn that literally every person in my class is over the age of 60. Umm….say what? The class was two hours, meaning I had 120 minutes to figure out why I was the only person who can’t use handicapped parking. Alas….I still have absolutely no clue. One of the ladies invited me to lunch afterwards though, so, really, who cares?
  • David and Goliath (Stairs Edition). That analogy actually doesn’t make much sense, but I was in a Biblical mood after the last thing, so just go with it. I am convinced that the stairs in this building serve no other purpose than being a death trap.**** They are Goliath, and I am David, and I WILL conquer them. I would have just left them alone, had it not been for last Thursday. I had just gotten home from a night out, innocently microwaved myself a cordon bleu, and was trying to get to my room for a little Law and Order before passing out, when BAM! Complete and utter wipeout. Bruised/scraped elbow and a cordon bleu casualty. Huge devil stairs: 1. Me: 0.

The staircase of death. Doesn’t it just look menacing?

This next week should be very exciting as I am heading to Budapest! The flights only cost 2 euros there and 2 euros back, so there is a 5% chance we sold ourselves into sex slavery. But hey, studying abroad is all about new experiences right?

Kidding, totally kidding. Probably an ill-timed joke considering Taken 2 is coming out this week…sorry Mom.



*Met a French guy who DOESN’T smoke! Take a second to let that sink in…..

**Are they still together? I want to say no, but I’ve reached my quota of “things I do that make me hate myself” for this week, so I can’t bring myself to Google it.

***I apologize for the rant, but I feel very passionately about this issue.

***In addition to acting as, you know, stairs.


2 responses

  1. I fell down the stairs more times than I would like to count. Luckily your room is on the first floor. Mine was on the third. That’s four flights of death.

    1. I have so much respect for you right now.

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