found direction, i think

hmm...I was recently filled with an unwelcome reaccurance of teenage angst. ugh. I can't wait to be 21, because I imagine it to be the end of juvenille mood swings, parental-directed abhorrance, and general angst-filled writings. I'm not even (nor ever was) the angsty/arty type. much too happy/sunshine-y for that. talk about self-fulfilling prophecy: I decided freshman year of HS to start being nice to people, even if they were stupid or immature and sure enough, later that year got voted 'most likely to brighten your day'...I've lived with that ever since, and if you know me for even a minute I'll try to make your day better, or brighter, or something involving smiling.

Which is what brought on that recent written-diarrea of moping: my mom believes the French are rude and unfriendly. Thus, she believes I'll hate it there. So I did some research. and come to find out: The French are unfriendly, this is due in part to the fact that they don't have a word for friendly. They find smiling at strangers odd and uncomfortable. They prefer for their smiles to mean something, to indicate some kind of shared pleasure. So smile-y Americans find them rude and they find the smilers a little creepy and 'mal-élèvé' (of bad breeding, which lets face it-is probably true)

So there! I'm applying for the job to teach Enlish in France, for nine months, through the embassy, not in rebellion to my mom or even to get away, but because this is where God's been leading me, this is what one does with a French major.

this is what it feels like to have direction.

- on 2003-05-05 at 1:33 p.m.

wilted - blooming