Monday, October 5, 2009

Derriere!! Derriere!!

So today I had a practice for soccer. The coach told me it was at 12h30. So I show up at 12:25 thinking I'm gonna be late. Why was I thinking this? I really don't know. I must have forgotten that I LIVE IN FRANCE. Everyone is perpetually late...but it is on time. Right? Yes. Wha???

So the COACH doesn't even show up until quarter to. Nice. Then we start a little later, whatever, I've lost track at this point. But we pass, we volley, we dribble. Yadda yadda yadda, not exciting. We start to scrimmage and this is where it gets fun. I am a communicator on the field. I think it stems from volleyball where communication is so necessary in so many ways. But picture this:

I mess up "shit! NO! I mean merde, crap...NO MERDE".
I was trying to be french a \nd play soccer all at once. About half way through the scrimmage I cursed "Putains!" and then proceeded to do a happy dance about my french cursing becoming subconscious....Yes I was excited about subconsciously cursing. In addition, I would be making plays and yelling "drop! derriere. Derriere? Est-ce que je peux dire derriere? and everyone was cracking up. I'm running around screaming broken english and french phrases then cursing in english and then cursing more because it was in english. Then cursing in french and getting happy. It was really fun. But soooohot. 80 degrees...yeah good idea to practice at noon...seriously?

Ben and I have been trying to get football matches on the computer. Too bad the internet is complete shite and doesn't allow us anything except for (as ben so eloquently put it) Darth Vader noises and occasional bloody glimpses of the score. But Ben had his thon and glaze on toast, so don't consider him to be that unhappy. Exhibit A.

Well I have my first big soccer game tonight. I get my uniform everything. But I think I have to buy new shoes. Bummer. But wish me luck and I'll keep you updated!

c'est moi,
Song "Be good to them always" The Books


  1. Ben is a good looking specimen of a man, and you ought to tell him so, for I cannot whilst dying slowly in Salt Lake suck-my-balls City, Utah.


  2. P.S. I posted a vid on my blog for your listening enjoyment - it's me singing with Patrick.

    I know you know. And I know you know I know you know. So. Go. You know?