American Animal

Proof that I am an American animal.

I was sitting at the kitchen table drinking a bottle of Orangina (one of the small glass bottles, just to let you know) and my host mother walks by and asks, "Tu n'utilise pas de verre?" (You're not using a glass?)

Crap. I turn red, try and figure out what to say. "Euh, euh...j'ai cru que, cette facon, il va etre moins des verres a laver." Which is, in very, very bad French, "Um, uh...I thought, this way, there would be less glasses to wash."

She gives me a small smile. "Tu es tres gentille. Mais prends une verre." (You're very nice. But take a glass.)


More proof that I am an American animal.

(a.k.a. when even boxed frozen food is more cultured than you are)

I have three dinners a week with my host mother, and my first dinner by myself was the other day. Rather than trying to find a recipe, buy the incredients I wanted, and cook something, I decided to buy something premade at the Casino. (For those of you who are slightly concerned at this point, Casino is a chain of French grocery store. I am not gambling, Mom, I swear!)

I bought this box of frozen quiche Lorraine for a couple euros, and took it home. I then discovered that this is the type of frozen food that you're not supposed to put in the microwave. French frozen food is more cultured then I am, point one.

(Actually, let's make that point two. The fact that it's frozen quiche Lorraine and not taquitos should be point one.)

While my quiche are cooking-- in the oven no less-- I take a look at the box, to discover that there are recommendations for a balanced meal on the back, with an apple, salad, yogurt, everything a good, multicourse meal would need. A multicourse meal made from frozen quiche Lorraine-- point three.



I, being an American college student with the habits of the aforementioned group, just cooked and ate the entire box.

Hey, at least I used a knife and fork?