Sam: Everyone you see here is either smoking or making out. I'm waiting to see a couple making out with their cigarettes dangling out of their mouths.
Sorry I have not updated recently. I have been pretty exhausted all week. I am not used to getting up so early, so with 8h30 class every morning, I've been kind of zonked.
My classes have been going really well. I like them all. I will talk more about them soon, I promise.
Right now I want to talk about dinner. Christine wasn't here because she had her line dancing class (she came in later wearing uber-cute cowboy boots and a plaid shirt. Even like this she looked so chic.) and so it was just the three of us. Claude served us the main dish, but he didn't know what it was. There was rice and cheese and some mystery vegetable that was leafy, brownish and soggy. After taking a bite or two, Claude said, "I think I know what this is! I think it's seaweed!"
"Yes!" I exclaimed "That's what I thought it was!"
So we1 continued eating our lovely seafood dish , which actually tasted really good, but the texture freaked me out. We chatted about seafood and seaweed and the ocean and sharks because we were all thinking, wow we're eating seaweed2. Claude told us that it was good to try new things and eat different things because you get sick of the same old thing all the time. It was pretty obvious that he had never eaten seaweed either.
After we had finished cleaning up, Christine got back and she came into the kitchen to get herself some food. "We didn't like the seafood tonight," Claude teased.
Christine looked puzzled. "The seafood?"
"Oui, the seaweed!" he said.
"The seaweed?!" she asked. Then she uncovered the pot and looked in. Then she started laughing. "That's not seaweed! Those are Chinese mushrooms."
I was laughing pretty hard at this point. Sam was not, on account of feeling a little nauseous. But then Claude said, "Well, Jillian said they were intéressant and Sam didn't say anything, which means she really didn't like them."
After this debacle, we came upstairs and I finished my essay, which I then brought downstairs, as Claude had said that he would look over it. He helped me fix a bunch of sections, which was really great. And he seemed really impressed with my written language, I guess because he's so used to me resorting to wild hand gestures when I forget some vocab or fumbling over my conjugations at the dinner table. It was just really nice of him to help me out.
But now I am v. v. tired and am going to go to sleep. Goodnight!
1 Claude and I. Sam kind of pushed it around her plate. But I mean, she ate that whole fish thing last week, so I guess we're even now, in terms of not eating the gross food.
2 Except Sam, obviously. She was NOT eating seaweed. At all.
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3 comments:
Wow. Line dancing and Chinese mushrooms... you really are in a foreign country. What's donking about, anyway?
Finally signed myself up. yay. now on to more important things - she lines dances?! that's crazy cool haha, the cowboots & all. and chinese mushrooms appaaarently look like seaweed. good to know : )
Oh, and I, too, am curious as to the meaning of donking...
Oh man, so many questions about "donking about"! I don't even really know what it means, but here is the deal:
Yesterday (the day I wrote this entry), we were sitting in the BU office downtown talking to our academic advisor, Patrice. He is leaving for Boston this weekend, where he will be talking to students who are interested in coming here next semester. So at this meeting, Patrice passed around a piece of paper so that we could write our favorite places in Boston: restaurants, stores, etc.
Sam and I started arguing about where the best place to shop is (I say Downtown Crossing and Sam says Newbury Street and the Pru) and so finally, I turned to the BU kid sitting next to me and said, "Alright, Andrew. Where do you like to shop?"
"I don't shop," he said.
"You don't shop?! At all?!"
"No, why would I need to?"
"Well what if you tore a shirt or something?"
"That's why I own more than one," he said. Then he continued, "and if I really need something, I find a store, I go in, I come out. I don't waste my time donking around in there."
So that is the story of "donking about". When I started cracking up, he explained that apparently they say it all the time at his on-campus job. Very exciting.
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