Every time I encounter a French word, I tend to just shut up and nosebleed silently on my own rather than to read the word aloud for fear of embarrassment by mispronunciation. That’s why I was ecstatic when I finally got enlisted to a French class this semester! Whoopee!
It’s just a basic French course. While I don’t expect that I'd be able to construct a beautifully made multi-paged essay in full French by the end of the sem (although that’s a lovely idea to be reckoned with if I would), at least I have my hopes up that I’d finally be proficient enough to read the hemorrhage-inducing words correctly and somehow know the essentials of the language.
I’m thrilled! It’s the subject that I’m most looking forward to attend to on Tuesday which is our first day back at the uni. I still haven’t got a clue who would be my professor. But I’m keeping my fingers crossed that (s)he would be equally funny and clever. I said funny because I don’t particularly like the profs falling under the ‘terror category’. I don’t find such profs’ acerbic disposition challenging or charming because instead of putting me at ease to learn the craft, they rather give me the creeps, making me conscious-bad. Being strict I don’t mind, but being evil mean is a completely different story.
Regardless. Excellent mood puts me in a similarly optimist spirit. So tonight, I have nothing but positivity that on Tuesday, the professor to grace our classroom would be the funniest and the cleverest thing ever :)
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