Yeah, I totally downloaded the Frozen soundtrack in French. It's AWESOME.
By the way, here's one of my favorite videos of all time: "Let It Go" in 25 languages. So great.
It's funny because my teacher told me to "let it go" today. We were talking about Hamlet, and I was moaning about how Laertes is a fucking idiot for getting killed even when he had a poisoned sword. So he didn't even really give Hamlet a fatal stab wound; it was only because Claudius was thinking ahead that Hamlet died.
It's hard to let that go!
You know what's even harder to let go, though? People talking about you.
Admittedly, I've said that French men are creepers--flippants--while not mentioning that American men can be just as creepy. The difference is that these French men are very forward. I remember someone told me the difference between Italian men and French men is that French men are actually charming while Italian men are just aggressive. Well, I don't know about that--they both seem pretty aggressive to me.
And no, before you all start worrying, not aggressive in a bad way. Just in a hilarious way. It seems the one stereotype I've encountered here is the lecherous French man. Like I was just trying to buy some grapefruit and these men were trying to talk to me like "grapefruit" was a dirty word. Too much innuendo that it didn't even make sense.
When I walked away from those dudes, they said something along the French/classier way of saying, "You're so fine." Hahahaha. And I was just thinking, Don't they realize I can hear them?
Same logic here. I returned to the Musée Rodin after class today, as my Art History paper is due in only two weeks. :| Anyway, I was sitting off to the side, recording my description of the Gate of Hell--La Porte de l'Enfer. But I had to take some pictures for my assignment and so I could look at them from the comfort of my apartment. So I got in front and took some detailed, closeup shots.
Now, if you've been reading me every day--and I commend you if you have been--you'll know that I absolutely hate people who get right up in there. So it was only me justifying that I had a report to write that made me stomach my terrible behavior. I tried to be quick.
Also, when people do this, I never say anything to them. Because there's no better way to get something to not do something than by telling them to do it. I mean, yeah, I can't help the frustrated sigh now and again, but I would never ask someone to move like, say, the _____ lady at Notre Dame yesterday. And trust me, this happens in America too: I was trying to take a picture of my friend's name on the Nike Women's Half-Marathon board, and a girl actually came up to me and asked me to move out of the way.
WTF. I wasn't just standing there aimlessly. I was looking for my friend's name! Even if I was standing there aimlessly, it certainly wasn't long enough for someone to come up and ask me to move. That's what always gets me: sometimes I've waited a good 10 minutes for someone to move so I can get a good picture. And I don't try to blame them--I am being the pedantic one, after all, for wanting a perfect picture. But yeah.
So these French students were saying "chinoise" over and over and pointedly looking at me. As in, "God, those Chinese people, they just can't move out of the way?" Argh. I really need to learn how to say, "I CAN UNDERSTAND YOU, ASSHOLES" in French. (We did learn some dirty words in class, actually.) Because all I can currently do is glower at them, which they seem to take as just my general facial expression than any sign of annoyance.
How do I know this? Because they continue saying it even as I'm looking pointedly at them! We've all commented on that weird person next to us on the Metro, yes, but we don't SHOUT it. And we don't assume that they can't speak our language. Which everyone does with me here! Because apparently no Chinese person is smart enough to learn some French before coming here. Because we're Chinese and we just don't care! (I wish I had a way of saying "Chinese" like how some people say "'Murica." So you'd know that I'm kidding. Because even though I'm explicitly stating that I am joking, someone is bound to walk away thinking that I am a bigot.)
Trust me, I've just learned to accept my flaws when I listened to "Everyone's a Little Bit Racist." Wait, but even this video is truncated because it was on TV! Here's the real, good, offensive version of "Everyone's a Little Bit Racist."
So yeah. Just accept it, people.
But yeah... Sorry I had to put you guys through another round of ranting. I guess I should stop complaining because this shit is always going to happen to me. That's why I have my Modernism class, so I can talk about it there in a refined, academic setting.
Except we totally talk about how Joyce has placed an inside joke by having his character Leopold Bloom wipe his ass with a short story in a magazine--one with the same title that Joyce had written years ago. Man, Joyce is terrific at letting things go. I should learn from him.
Oh, wait, I can't let another thing go yet: the other day, I was explaining to my friend Leo (is it okay for me to call him that? I'd feel bad if he someday reads this and is like, "Ugh, I was never her friend") that the Rodin Museum is currently closed, although the gardens are open, where the delightful Gate of Hell and the infamous Thinker can be seen.
Then, the same girl who has always interrupted me with inane "corrections" swoops in. You know, to give you guys a visual, imagine her as Bryce Dallas Howard playing Hilly Holbrook in the wonderful film-from-a-novel The Help.
I think this might help. (Haha, get it? I know, it's terrible humor, but it never gets old for me.)
So she swoops in and says, "Um, the Rodin Museum was supposed to reopen in March, so it should definitely be accessible."
Not wanting to get into a brawl minutes before Shakespeare in Context class, I demurred and sent her a tight-lipped smile, even though I was 99% positive that the Museum Rodin was not only not open this month but wouldn't be until we were long gone from AUP (us visiting students, at least).
And yes, today, the house was blocked off, just as I had known before. In fact, half the gardens were also blocked off, so all you could really see was the Gate of Hell, the Three Shades, and the Thinker. And Balzac and the War Veterans, I suppose. But yeah, much fewer options than when I went about two months ago.
Why do people "correct" when they don't know the right answers?
I know one of my former friend's pet peeves was me constantly cutting in. But I just have so much to say--it's like my mind is a newsreel in Times Square. And I get excited from sharing information just because it's cool and weird and fascinating--not from any pretentious, schadenfreude intentions. I mean, I loved when my students would correct me during one of my examples of a math problem--it saves me all the trouble of getting to the end and realizing I'd wasted all of our time. And real teachers appreciate corrections--something all the teachers I've liked have in common. And if someone shares a new fact that I didn't know with me, I practically bounce up and down like Tigger.
*
Well, I totally failed at letting it go. I'm very, very sorry. You guys want to hear about Paris, not me! I mean, today I don't have much: just pictures of statues that I've already posted and talked about in excruciating detail.
I want to share some of the thoughts of my fellow Modernism students, but I'll save that for another day when I don't even have something to complain about--surprisingly, yes, there are certain days like that.
TTFN!
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