Eek! How did I ever let a month (close enough) go by without posting anything?
Bad, bad kitty.
Truth is, I have still been writing constantly, albeit mainly doing lines over and over again, in French.
I’ve always loved languages – writing it, reading it, hearing it – so keeping myself motivated wasn’t hard at all.
As it happens, it is only too easy for me to get over-motivated and started banging away on French everything like a language-learning Nazi really. I have my beloved secondary school to thank for that – Diligence is one of the school values widely extolled. Where did the fascist attitude come from? Well… we were chased from spot to spot by someone blowing on a police whistle; our hair lengths were scrutinised frequently (nothing below our cold, trembling earlobes). Read: Discipline (and Nazi-ish nitpicking). Can I just say though, I honestly LOVED that school. But that’s another story altogether.
Anyway… Not contented with just taking my tutor’s word when it comes to the prickly subject of ‘en’, ‘à’, ‘de’ and the million other split personalities these annoying lil’ buggers come in, I *had* to go research on what it means when the same word morphs and mutates into partitives, pronouns, prepositions and monsters.
Sometimes I made progress and I feel like the champion of the world. As if my legs had grown two-inches longer.
Other times… many times (Though not most times, thankfully.)… La tête just goes… vide.
Like when I figured out preposition à is for ‘going to’ and preposition de is for ‘coming from’ and then I turn a page and the article de that roughly translates to ‘some’ and ‘any’ swings by to say ‘Hi’ while swiftly being chased down by en, which can be both a preposition and also a pronoun.
And I can’t let it go.
I. Can’t. Let. It. Go.
My school motto demands that I get to the bottom of things. And to the bottom of things I got to.
Yes. I applied a filter to make it look nicer. Hurhurhur.
So what did I discover at the bottom of the pile?
Me. Lying rather lifeless. With a very firm and fit writing arm all sinewy and Michelle Obama-y from all the copying and writing and rewriting I was doing.
Not too bad, I’d have to say. (I’m shallow. You mean you didn’t know?)
Just last night I’ve started dreaming in French… though I can’t be sure if it was actual accurate French, at least I can say that without a doubt, my subconscious recognised it as awesomely fluent French.
So now the conscious me just has to catch up with my subconscious half.
Tonight, we conquer French Gender.
Ninja! Peace out.