Home > April in Paris > Archives > 2008 > October > 23 > Entry
Better to Speak the Language, Part 2
(Continued from part 1)
I didn’t know what else to do but turn on the bathtub and totally submerge my head under the water. In America, this would have been a grand idea, but, in France, the water pressure is similar to that of a water gun (and not near as fun). I couldn’t get the soap out of my hair fast enough as I envisioned being platinum blonde—or perhaps, blonde like the little tow-headed babies everyone adores. I did not look in the mirror, I just twisted my hair into a towel on top of my head and decided to relax in a hot bath, to let my feelings pass. Well, whatever the verdict, it’s me now. I’ll just put on my makeup and smile a lot (which is typically what I do, when I find myself in a fix). As I toweled off and put on my pajamas, I checked the color of my hair in the mirror with somewhat relief. It definitely stripped my last dye job, but, a few highlights never hurt anyone, right?
Trying to forget the whole hair and soap situation, I decided to tidy up the kitchen before turning in for the night. As I strolled down the hallway to put my clean dishes away, I saw what looked like water pooling around the corner. My mouth dropped in disbelief.
The dishwasher had bubbled over. Bubbles were happily nestled around the legs of my French table and chairs—like freshly fallen snow in a holiday window display at Neiman Marcus. Meanwhile, water was creeping towards the door. Panicked, I could see myself unloading water out the stairwell window with buckets. Corralling the bubbles, I couldn’t get Disney’s Fantasia “The Sorcerer’s Apprentice” out of my mind, hundreds of steps and pouring water—except I don’t have those broom people to help!
Snapping back into reality, I turned off the dishwasher. “How much water goes through one of these regular cycles anyway?” I thought accusingly, as I crumpled my nose at the machine. I grabbed the soap bottle that I had used in the dishwasher feeling bitterly betrayed. With my lack of French language skills, for the second time in one night, I zeroed in on yet another French label with words I did not understand.
“The soap was thick and creamy and white with little specks in it. The label had pictures of dishes on it. It looked just like the kind of soap I use back in the U.S. I had NO DOUBT this was the right kind of soap!” I whined, as if filibustering congress.
Excuses, excuses…
I recounted a saying, “The only thing worse than a stupid person is a stupid person with confidence.”
With NO DOUBT, I mopped up the bubbles and water from the living room floor.
It is definitely better to speak the language.
Comments
By BillR
October 24, 2008 9:44 AM | Link to this
Oui, it is better to speak the language… Too funny!
HA… The French (and most or Europe) are decades ahead of us (USA) on all things “green”… didn’t expect the soap th be ultra-high concentrate (to reduce shipping weight, shopping frequency, packaging meterial… aka. “green”), did you?
April, what ever will happen to you next? Can’t wait to hear!
XOO
By Rachele Hawkins
October 24, 2008 10:01 AM | Link to this
I am enjoying reading about your adventures in Paris. You write so well I feel like I’m there. We miss you and your wonderful bakery. Looking forward to your next entry!
By cheryl
October 24, 2008 10:48 AM | Link to this
Hello April: Just wanted to say I enjoyed reading your blog, wish I was there. You have inspired me to want to travel. Sincerely, Cheryl
By Charlotte Nairac
October 24, 2008 1:59 PM | Link to this
APRIL!!! You’re only on week one!!! I can’t imagine the reactions of your family and friends in Texas when you start talking about your 2 weeks with us… I’m imagining the hilarity already. I’ll translate it for Didier… Looking forward to dinner sometime next week with Perrine! Charlottexxx
By J'Nai
October 29, 2008 5:01 PM | Link to this
Yea! Fantasia! I love you Ape. Life throws a few lemons at you, and you make lemon curd tarts! (Fresh raspberries on mine please!) I’m slobbering again, got to go!