Je m’appelle la FroggerGirl (La Grenouille Fille)

So, the FroggerGirl is getting her booty in gear on her MA degree and getting back into an organized French class. Yes, FG is a for real student again…and that’s weird to me right now. I’m excited, it should be interesting…and most of all I NEED to do this. No more stalemate of life. Onward and Upward, or whatever cliché goes best.

This whole going back to French class started arandom discussion and laugh moment. Sitting at dinner with Madam Blonde (sorry, it’s the best blogger name I can think of) in a ne pas tres cher (not too expensive) French restaurant, my random attempts at High School language flooded back to me. We both remembered the silly names we had to pick for foreign language class. Oh, you know the names if you took language classes in US high schools. The names were supposed to help you feel more connected to the language studied and cultures that spoke that language. Remember? When I first attempted French to resounding failure in the 8th grade, my French name was Yvette. Chosen from the random handout of names, and my love of the movie Clue. Mind you that Yvette totally bought the farm via a rope…

On my longer, and more painful, journey attempting to learn Spanish from 9-12th grade, I was known by the Spanish alias Chela (short for Marcela) and that name did not improve my Spanish. In fact, when I was on a wing and a prayer to get out of my senior year of Spanish with a C, I was contemplating a name change. Maybe the name was good luck in some sick way, because though my freaky good placement test I passed into 5th semester Spanish…and got a pass on my language requirement in College. Way to go Chela! Oh wait, no…BAD Chela, that freaky great test made me totally lazy on any kind of language study or attempt there of in College. Thus I was totally screwed me in Grad School requirements, well at least that’s the lie I tell myself. FroggerGirl, Chela, Yvette…whoever the hell I am, I get to go back to school. Je parle francais! Un peu (a little)