chez Fronsh

I moved in with my host family this last week and it's been pretty close to perfect.

Basically, Madame Sonya and her daughter Kristel love me. In part because my crappy French is better than other exchange students living in the house, two Japanese girls with French/English speech. Also, the American girl who lived chez elle last semester was "cold". So compared to everyone else, I'm a friendly genius who massages and crochets for the family. I WIN!

Madame Sonya is pretty hilarious. She is a painter and returns home in paint spattered clothing and complains that her backs hurts because her boobs are too big. Ocassionally she try out her English with me. She is ridicous and delightful, phrases like, "I were pregnant and my teeth hurt very much" or "I am you France mama" are frequent occurences each evening.

Plus, she is feeding me more than she has too, which means I save money on foooooood. She has allowed me to invite guests over, and if anybody wants to stay for a few nights, it's perfectly fine.

Kristel is super awesome. We chat a bunch and it's okay that my French is bad. She came out last Friday to a few bars with 12 other Americans. She's a trooper and plays guitar in a garage band. How French.

The only this missing is gorment food for dinner every night. But for now I'll settle for pizza with eggs on top and a view of the Effiel Tower from the dining room table. Cliche? Of course, but I'm diggin' it.