I went to Italian last night; it was brutal. Actually yesterday wasn't such a good day all the way around but class was definitely the kicker. I learned that I am much smarter in the morning than in the afternoon. And considerably more so than in the evening, which is when my lessons happen. I'm going to have to start work at 4 am to get a full day effort out of my little brain.
Last night we realized, in front of the cute Spanish guy, the 2 high school teachers, the woman married to an Italian, and of course, my own Italian professor, that I do no know how to use pronouns. It was awful. We were reading sentences aloud and everytime it was my turn the room was filled with resounding silences and 'umm...'. I am definitely the slow antelope in the herd. At the break Spanish Boy told me that it was really difficult and not to feel badly, which didn't' help matters at all. Then Then Mr. Teacher Man asked if my cold was affecting me and I had to admit that no, I was just that dumb.
The thing is, I've spent the last 10 years of my life endeavoring to be the best, the smartest, the quickest, the most deserving... Trying to claw my way thru architecture school and then proving my utter competence in the corporate world. It's incredibly frustrating to know that I am no good at languages. Throw in that I come from 2 perfectionist parents and it's sort of a Molotov cocktail. And I want to speak Italian very, very much. I was very good at English in high school. I loved the vocabulary, the diagramming of sentences, ok spelling wasn't my strong suit but I did exceptionally well in my classes. Now it would seem, grammar is my kryptonite. It's like my algebra years all over again. My god, do you suppose they both use the same part of the brain?! And that particular part of the brain was injured in the Great Oreo Accident of 1972?!?! I never put that together before... It all makes perfect sense now.
Ok, stepping back from my won conspiracy theory now, I'm off work for the next 5 days, which shouldn't affect the blog in the slightest, since I don't post daily. It really more affects my email habit at work, which probably needs to be curtailed anyway. So, it's Paddy's Day and MegaRon's coming to visit!! I'm very excited about it. No, no green beer will be drunk; plenty will be consumed, none of it green. We'll be touring the Dublin area and playing with Oliver, my new digital camera that he's bringing me. He's actually bringing me a lot of things. Having lived in a foreign country before, he understands the need to have people bring stupid things over when visiting. I, however, am paralyzed by the blank sheet of "What do you want?", so my list went like this: Ron, camera, Fines Herbs, Ron, toothpaste, package from sister, Ron, chips-salsa-shiner boc, coffee from Texas, and Ron. Whee. It seems I'm not good at lists either.
So, happy Paddy's Day to you all. I shall return to our irregularly scheduled posting next week after I wring out my liver. But hey, I'll have photos!
2 comments:
What is the Great Oreo Accident of '72??? I'm curious to find out. That would make for a great blog story. Beth, little children all over Italy are learning Italian. I think you'll get the hang of it. You have to be smarter than those little Italian kids. And good luck to all on St. Paddy's Day.
Keep up the hard work! I learned sign language, which is harder than you might think, but I was the slow kid in the class for a lot longer than I expected to be.
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