Je m'appelle Colle!

Glue! My name is glue! Literally! The French word for glue is “colle” and is pronounced like “Cole”. The verb for to glue is coller (cole-ay). This summer at Baylor Line Camp there was a group of students singing “Cole-ay! Cole-ay! Cole-ay! Cole-ay!”. If they only knew what they were singing! “To glue! To glue! To glue! To glue!” I discovered this the other night when a friend of mine from church came up to me, put his arm around me and said, “hey, je suis collé à Cole!” (I’m glued to Cole!). Thanks Mom! It’s a wonderful name that goes very well with Casper …in the United States! Can you imagine a foreigner coming to the United States with the name Glue? It’s no wonder the French never have trouble pronouncing my name when I tell them for the first time! It is French! It’s glue! Hi, my name is Glue!

Today I had five hours of very boring classes! It was tough to stay awake! I had one class that has around 100 students and a professor that stands at the front of the room and talks about pronouns! GAG ME WITH A SPOON! Today on my way out of class I told my friend Marie that this had better be the last grammar class I ever take in my life! I have not only had to put up with French grammar since high school; I’ve also taken two upper level French grammar classes at Baylor and now this one that lasts for an hour every week and comes with a supplementary two hour class on Fridays! By the time the weekend is here I’m spent! I also had to give a presentation in my Sociology of Language class on the differences between the French second person pleural and second person singular. This is the difference between you and ya’ll; except in France they use ya’ll to speak to someone formally. I wrote about this subject when I first started the blog and told you how Hélène said that I could use you instead of ya’ll when talking with her.

After class I went to the gym and had a conversation with a mumbler. He told me that I should use the sauna when I’m done working out because it calms the nerves. We’ll see about that one. On my way home from the gym I was confronted by a bum wanting a cigarette. When he started to talk I said, “Excuse me?” in English so that he wouldn’t bother me for much longer. Just when I did that, a friend of mine from church drove up and rolled the window down to say hi. I was caught! I tried to pretend I couldn’t speak French, but now I was obliged to speak it fluently. I therefore lied to a bum! For once I wanted to be the dumb American, but was caught red-headed! C’est la vie!

You know the feeling you get when you’ve eaten the last piece of candy out of the Pez™ dispenser? It hurts! Thanks mom for the Valentine box full of goodies and BEEF jerky! Even in France she still provides for me when she hears that I’m not eating enough meat! I wonder if I could get away with telling her that I’m not meeting enough French girls. You think she’d mail on to me? I guess I’m in the best location to find and mail one of those. Maybe I’ll mail myself one back to Texas!