First and foremost, I should probably be studying for French. Like, really.
But as I sit at this little plastic table located on this small patio just outside my bedroom, I find I just… can’t. I’m too busy doing something that a good friend told me to do: “Take a deep, deep breathe–breathe in the infinite possibilities–and really let it all sink in. Live in the moment and only in the moment, because (and believe me!) it WILL pass you by if you’re not careful.”
And look who we go here… Big Girl Katrina, tryna be all careful and infinite and shit. But jokes aside, it’s amazing advice. Because the beautiful overgrown greenery of the Barry’s garden is just over the top of this laptop screen as I type. With the soft sky laying such a calm 10:53 a.m upon my four hours of sleep, I can’t help but feel that cheesy tranquility that movies try to replicate, and it’s the most surreal feeling: allowing yourself to truly sink and sit into the peace that is your life. It’s just so funny to me (as I glance quickly at the view over my laptop) that my backyard is something a couple months ago I would have gazed at longingly on tumblr under #frenchgarden #green and probably made my screensaver for a week. It’s cool as fuck. You know what, I’m gonna take a picture of the patio I’m on right now–
Fun fact: once you let cheesy in, it just keeps sounding. Like literally, a clock tower just deeply tolled eleven. It sort of felt like a call—my call. France is telling me I should break out in song and run for the hills and tell them how alive they are with the sound of cinematic potential.
But again, capturing this moment is too important to me right now to leave. Also I don’t have much time because I’m going on a boat trip with Anna and Lisa (my beautiful french sisters, do you not know this already? Hey, I have two beautiful French host sisters. Their names are Anna and Lisa) at noon.
So I have one quick hour to disregard my French studies (oh-la-la, et c’est mal aussi!) and jot down that…
…This story all about how,
My life got flipped-turned upside down!
And I’d like to take a minute,
Just sit right there,
I’ll tell you the Frenchies for whom now I care…
….IIIIIIIN west philide—
Okay, let’s just no. But actually, utilizing Fresh Prince isn’t a bad start. Because after Lisa and I pulled up to last night’s house party about 9 or 10 (me holding 2 bottles of rosé, practicing—when Lisa isn’t looking, of course—different ways to hold the bottles so I don’t look like a American. Which is very difficult by the way because I don’t know if there even is an American or non-American way to carry bottles, I don’t handle alcohol enough to know these things. So yeah I’m kind of just walking and juggling bottles of rosé like a weirdo)–
I looked at the party,
I was finally there,
To talk french with all strangers and pretend not to be scared.
It worked. After quite a bit (quite a bit) of rosé I was speaking French like it was nobody’s business.
Likewise I returned to english with a newfound french accent, saying things like “Oui! Yes! I call you, non? I call you later. We hang out, oui? Bon! Parfait! I like meeting you. Very happy.”
Because what is that. You’re a literature major, Katrina. Form real sentences.
We also, my dear audience/grandma, have a problem:
I need to jot down the people I met. These French characters that did turn my life upside-down. After years of hearing about French culture–
But wait I hear they’re prissy bourgeouis all that,
Is this the type of place that they just sent this cool Kat?
–I’ve found that French people aren’t snobby…
They’re just better. Excuse the generalization, but their life IS like Belle-Air. They’re good people, and they don’t want to come off as better…it’s just that,well, they do.
But yeah, ten minutes to noon.
Fuck, I really need to study.