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NaBloPoMo 2012– November 26th: Je parle un peu de français.

Today’s prompt reads

Monday, November 26, 2012
Do you speak more than one language?  How did you learn the additional languages?

Once upon a time, about 12 (!!!) years ago, I wanted to be exotic, sophisticated, and cool. I signed up to take French for all 3 years of middle school, and I ended up parle-ing français my way through middle school, high school, and even my freshman year of college, for a grande totale of 8 years. By some sick joke, I ended up as an officer in my high school’s chapter of the Société Honoraire de Français. (L’homme qui sait deux langues en vaut deux!!!!!)

My French speaking skills are a joke.

I can read and understand a lot of French, but, as they (whoever “they” may be) say, if you don’t use it you lose it. Eight years of French have basically gone to waste, although I have been known to incorporate French phrases, words, and titles into my poetry when I don’t want anyone to know what I’m actually saying. (Or, on the contrary, if I want to make something really simple and lame seem exotic.) I really miss la langue de français, and I really hope to be able to speak it more in the future. I think I’m going to resurrect my French textbooks and even my French book of poetry…. I need some more French in my life.

Oh, and because ya’ll deserve this:

God help me, this is how I celebrated Mercredi Gras in high school. We could only stay after school on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays so we arranged to have the annual French Club/ French Society celebration of Mardi Gras on Mercredi (Wednesday.)

Do you speak a second language?

NaBloPoMo 2012– November 25: Sappy Seasons Greetings

November is always a family-filled month for me. Between November 19th and November 29th, there are 4 birthdays, Thanksgiving, and at least one family birthday party. This year, Thanksgiving fell on my Grandma’s birthday. Two days later, we gathered to celebrate my cousin’s birthday. I love my family dearly, but something caused me to do a lot of reflecting this year during Thanksgiving Break.

For reasons I cannot explain, despite the fact that I was excited to spend time with my family and have a few days off from school, I found the idea of Thanksgiving to be very depressing. It probably has something to do with the fact that I’m two months away from turning 23, but I found myself spending a lot of Thanksgiving break thinking about my future.

I’ve been yearning for a place of my own lately that isn’t a part of University Housing. I want a house with a porch, a bit of a yard, and space for me to leisurely stroll around, garden, or even walk a dog. With dreams of a small house of my own (which, if I save enough money, I may actually be able to afford in the next few years!) came dreams of sharing my house with someone else. As one of my favorite fictional characters, Liz Lemon, has said, “I just wish I could start a relationship about twelve years in, when you really don’t have to try anymore, and you can just sit around together and goof on TV shows, and then go to bed without anybody trying any funny business.” I yearn for a committed, loving relationship with a sense of permanency. I know I’m young (see? I can read your minds, readers-o-mine!), but I’m an old soul. I’m ready to settle down with the lady of my dreams and start a life together. I just have to meet her first.

In the weird way that my mind works (and has been working), I have had baby fever for a few months now. I had been able to control it by babysitting for my friends, but even that hasn’t subdued my motherly urges lately. While I’m nowhere near ready to welcome a child into my life, I know that I’d be able to handle the responsibility of taking care of someone else. I should really look into getting a pet rock. Instead, as I attended family gathering after family gathering and took care of my youngest cousin, who is approximately 22 years and 3 months younger than me, I actually found myself thinking about how surreal it is that I’m at a point in my life where, if I were to become a modern day Mary Magdalene and have some immaculate conception happen in my life I’d actually be able to step up to the plate and be a responsible young mother. In less than a year I’ll be a paid member of the teaching profession, perhaps living on my own, and actually being a real adult. This realization caused my mind to drift and reflect on my future, and I started wondering what my life will hold in the next 5, 10 years: Will I be married? Will I have children? Will I adopt children? Will I be a foster parent? Will I have a dog? Sometimes the most terrifying thing about the future is its uncertainty.

It’s like ButchesandBabies, except I’m a femme. And I disguised the lil squish for the protection of the criminally adorable. Happy Thanksgiving?

As I drove back to school tonight, I was listening to the Christmas songs on the radio and I was suddenly overwhelmed with sadness. I loveloveLOVE Christmas music so this was incredibly shocking to me. I actually got teary eyed as I thought about how so many of my younger cousins (I’m the oldest of 12) have significant others, and how sad the idea of being alone on Christmas makes me this year. I know I won’t be alone, as I have a wonderfully large, loving family, but there’s something inside of me that’s telling me I need to settle down, have matching stockings to hang with someone, and start a future. Hell, I just want someone to hold me as I stare at my beautifully lit Christmas tree, listening to Christmas songs, and enjoying the warmth of the holiday season.

I’m not sure what has gotten into me lately, and I know I have a long way to go before I can obtain any of these dreams. i just wish I could look into a crystal ball sometimes and know that everything’s going to turn out alright.

What sorts of thoughts do the holiday season bring to your head?

NaBloPoMo 2012– November 24th: Mistakes

Do you tend to cover up your failings or admit your mistakes?

I’m extremely stubborn. I don’t like admitting I’m wrong because, most likely, I’m right to some degree. Somewhere, somehow, I’m right. There are loopholes to everything, and I like to find them. If I’m in an argument with someone, I can fight until I’m blue in the face, and then I’ll just employ my favorite evil tactic: killing people with kindness. I sugar coat everything, am incredibly sweet, and will treat you with the kindness I treat puppies. (People can’t be mad at you when you’re so incredibly sweet, and it’s really awesome to make people squirm.) I’ve had multiple people (and exes) say to me, “You seem so sweet and kind…but you’re such an asshole.” That’s a new level of winning.

I’m a big fan of killing people with kindness.

Obviously I’ve digressed.

When I make mistakes, although I’ll feel guilty and bad about the initial mistake, I won’t cover them up. (Unless, of course, the mistakes are minuscule and don’t matter. Then ‘fessing up isn’t important.) Admitting I’ve made a mistake is one of the toughest things for me to do, but it’s an important action for me to take. As a student teacher, I’ve definitely had my fair share of mistakes. When I misquote something or tell my students the wrong facts (because, as I tell them, I am *terrible* with dates!), once I realize I’ve messed up I admit I was wrong to the class and set them on the right path. Admitting I’m human makes the mistake seem less severe, and I suspect it helps my students respect me a bit more.

What do you think– is it more important to admit you’re wrong, or more important to cover up your mistakes?