Prudence!

It is somehow already Friday, and technically the last real day of break. It is also somehow past the middle of April, which means I'm half way done with the BEDA thing. And just 12 more days of April, May, June, and a tad of July and I can blow this joint.

Speaking of this joint, I've confirmed the many stereotypes and expectations and exclamations made about French food. And that confirmation is basically that they are right, and that it is holy-crap-good food. I mean, yeah I am lucky. My friends said they'd eat lots of French food if they were here, and I think I might take that idea. Not literally, because it's not like I had been oblivious or ignorant or defying of that idea before. Seriously.

But today, when we walked away from that new French restaurant downtown, I had one of those realization things I guess. Well no, it was more when I was actually eating the food. And despite the language embarrassment factor and the fact that we were probably very obvious, noticeable foreigners in the place, that food was friggin' good. I mean, the steak was tender and soft and they cut off the fat parts and it had this weird gooby sauce that was sort of like a weird blob but that was awesome and then there were french fries and these awesome cooked leeks/artichoke hearts that I even liked. And they had spray olive oil in a plastic bottle that looked like shampoo. The restaurant seemed quite modern; cool, abstract paintings and a mixture of music styles. I thought I heard an English song playing, and there was one quite like George Harrison would play, except the slight synthesizer in the back and drumming would suggest a different era.

The waitress of course started out in French, but told us she could speak a little bit of English, which she went ahead and did, but then my mom asked for French. I guess I did alright on the communication standpoint, considering I didn't actually even say that much. The chef (maybe he wasn't the chef, but he seemed like the one) also talked in English nicely, and the whole thing just made me feel like I was in Ratatouille. The guy had a big nose (not wide but like tall) and a slight five o'clock shadow. My mom misunderstood what he said about the credit card thing, so she just had to walk up and say with a laugh, "excusez-moi, je suis.. idiote" to which they said several "no"s and then he said "don't verry" (worry).


Zach left early out of embarrassment, but I stayed and got to give my mom a mini French lesson. The waitress had also reminded my mom that it was "d'eau" not "de l'eau" (referring to water). The chef guy told my mom at the end you say "Mes compliments au chef" with the "au" sounding like "oh" almost. They gave us an IKEA container with little lichorish-flavored pill-like objects and we said au revoir and merci.

My mom and I also took this walk/hike around Vescancy and got several pictures of cows. It was almost creepy the way they followed me with their eyes. But considering the fact that I had been pointing a black object and shooting at their faces for a few minutes and staring, maybe it wasn't that bad. But cows are nice. They really are. I won't go into details about the rest of the hike, because really it's probably boring but we did have a laugh after one failure at the end.

Tomorrow we're going to Gruyere and this nearby town in Switzerland with a chocolate factory, as I have mentioned. Should be cool.... I still need to study for some tests at school and do some stuff. Algebra? Nope. Blues scales today? I wish.

Sev7enty-Se7ven