Saturday, January 2, 2010

You little phoquer!

So I just learned that if you finish a bottle of wine (or champagne) on New Year's you're supposed to be married by the end of the year. Well, if that's true then I should have been married at 16. Just sayin'.

Yar, so we're eating dinner tonight at the dinner table, watching tv and chatting as usual. Well, everyone else is chatting, I'm happily absorbed in shoveling in pasta and green beans as quickly as I can into my black hole (also read: stomach). And then I hear Madame say, "ooh, fuck!" and I choke and nearly spew bits of half-mashed veggies into Benjamin's water glass across the table. Madame looks at me, all innocent-eyed confusion, and I was like "QUOI?! COMMENT?!" And she points to the tv, where all I see are a bunch of seals and icebergs and furry-hatted humans. I start giggling, b/c I am immature, and Benjamin (who speaks really good English) is like, "haha, no, it's 'fuck!'" like that's supposed to help me, so I swallow the last bits of the mouthful I managed to not let fly and start laughing again, b/c by this point I knew it had to be a French word I was lost-in-translate-ing. Sure enough, they both spell out p-h-o-q-u-e, and point again to the tv (which by this point has a close-up of one of the seals) and keep saying "fuck, fuck, fuck!" And I seriously can not stop laughing. Even now, like 5 hours later.


Off to the library to return some books...I never even made it out of my jams yesterday, much less the apartment, so I figure it's about time to get some fresh air, even if only for about 20 minutes!


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