And the lightbulb comes on

So I have been sitting in my room thinking, mainly because I have nothing else to do, when the lightbulb finally came on. No not literally, although it would be nice to have some light in this room. I finally realized, I don't have to speak French here. I know that may sound stupid, but being a French major ingrained into my head that I must speak and only speak French over here. When I was studying here in undergrad it made sense to learn the language and all. But I am not here to learn the language right now; I am here to learn the law or law related items. Thus if a professor wants to make a fool out of himself by speaking broken jabberwockey English to me, so be it. I will laugh inside my head and think what an idiot, which is what they probably do when I speak French.

On a completely different note....I nearly got into a fight. This is the second time in my life I have nearly been in a fight and oddly enough they were at the same place, the foot of the hill of the Sacre Couer at Montmatre. Standing like vultures at the staircase leading up to the cathedral are vendors of stolen or cheap tourist crap. Normally I can walk right by these people without a problem, but not here. No, no they won't let you. This is how it went down....

Man approaches me and says: Hey big boss (big boss usually means the big honcho in a working place but on the street it means hey you American with lots of money)

Me: (ignore him)

Man: (approaches) Hey big boss why no say hello

Me: (ignore him)

Man: (puts hand on my shoulder to stop me) Hey big boss I say hello what your problem?

Me: (note this is translated if you want the original French version please send a self addressed envelope to...) I can speak f***ing french, I am not a stupid idiot. Get your f***ing hand off of me.

Man: (switches to French) You have a problem with me? What language do you speak? What is your f***ing problem?

Me: (still in French) My f***ing problem is you are f***ing touching me, now let go before something happens... (he lets go finally) (I then say) Tais-toi, pute (there is no real good English translation, but it is basically the worse thing you can say to someone in French think of it as transalted as such, "Shut your s**t eating a**hole you motherf***ing c**t." But it is so succint and demeaning in French, I love it.)

So I walk away while he swears at me. The other time was when I was guiding my parents around Paris and at the same place one of the same type of people grabs my mom to try and sell her something. I swiftly twisted his arm and cursed at him in French. He got the point.

And Arbusto (since I am pretty sure you are the only one reading this) here is my football prediction for this weekend:

Bears 31 Vikes 6