a la française

It's hard for me to really remember how much I hated French when I took it in school. I was always failing french which is also probably why I hated it. A whole lot of tutoring going on there...but when I was in Turkey one summer after I graduated I finally got that I could be a spy and that maybe my education had paid off. I was able to translate a conversation from Turkish to French to English and actually help somebody make the right bus. Isn't that what's all about? Helping people. This was not philosophy or anything highbrow but it was useful. That was a great feeling and so now I actually enjoy speaking French. I of course feel chic-er than everybody who doesn't speak french unless they are speaking Italian in which case I have instant Italian envy....This year with a reduced work load and 3 days of leisure, so called, I finally signed up for French lessons. But not at the granddaddy of all french teaching institutions in New York, the Alliance Francaise which I had understood was populated by young French matrons. No, I decided to take French at the Idlewild Travel Book store where mon prof teaches bain dessine which is comic books. Incredible fun.  We read Tintin en Tibet which i didn't really like -- it is a true period piece -- but the professor is great...young with a sense of humor and appreciation of the ridiculous...In fact I think I will take another course from him. To Kate's amusement I am always late doing my homework and end up sitting like a tailor on the bed with a dictionary in one hand and 3x5 cards in the other writing furious as I intone the words slowly and clearly.

Way chic