Wednesday, January 14, 2004

I've decided to apply to Concordia University to specialize in Communication & Journalism. Last year, only 12 people registered. I'm scared. I'm fearful of my future. I don't need to speak French to get in, but it is required of me by the end of my undergraduate studies. I mean, right now, I can fluently ask for a map of Paris ("carte de Paris") and buy a set of 10 subway tickets ("un carnet de billets"). I can ask for directions, know my left from my right, and successfully ask for choice cuts at the butchers ("boucherie"). Yet, I seemed to have said "Mon francais n'est pas bon. Pourriez vous parlez doucement s'il vous plait" more than I asked "Ou sont les toilettes?" while in France.

I'm sweating blood just thinking about it. University? Bah. Just gon' marry me an oil tycoon from the bin Laden family and I'll be set for life ... oppressed and degraded. Meh. Good trade, it's still good.

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