I knew there would come times when my confidence to practice my French would be at their all time highs and their all time lows. But my goodness did I get the rug swept under me. Friday, I had to take my Sorbonne placement test. I felt the little confidence that I attained quickly flutter out the window the second I walked-up to its beautifully ornate doors. I thought that my oral went more smoothly than the written, but I wont find out my results until Thursday (le jeudi). I would like to be in at least beginner intermediate. Not debutant (beginner). At least I wasn't the only examiner who had a minor heart-attack while filling out their name and personal information on the freshly pressed forms. Everyone left joking that the French government was going to send us all back home due to our ignorance in their language. We quickly left suggesting a drink after such a demeaning experience. So what do we do? Hit up "Happy Hour" in two fabulous gay-bars in the Latin Quarter.
C'est la vie!
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