Une année de l'amour

A year ago today I went on a walk with five dogs and a tall, over-talkative, handsome boy/man named Andrew.  We met at noon at the top of my street and compared notes on school, work, and dogs coupled with a few awkward silences, all ending with an exciting exchange of phone numbers.  365 jours plus tard (jwers ploo tahrd: days later), and Andrew and I have engaged in countless conversations, fights, kisses, and one année de l'amour (ahn-ay duh l-moor: year of love).

It's never easy being in a relationship, especially a long distance one.  I swore to myself, in fact, that I wouldn't let myself be in a relationship when I went to la belle France (lah bell Frah-ns: beautiful France) because I thought the pain of having part of my heart in the States while I was trying to live a life 6,000 miles away would be too hard to handle.  Besides, I've always prided myself on being independent, and there's nothing more threatening to a girl who likes to be on her own than a man by her side.  But I fell hopelessly in love with this vegetarian boy who so innocently cheered on baseball teams, never forgot the importance of a goodnight phone call, and always let me win an argument.  So when the time came to say bon voyage (bon voy-aj: farewell) Andrew and I made a pact to make our relationship work, day-by-day.

Five months of our relationship have been spent à la distance (ah lah dees-tahns: long distance), and we've weathered our fair share of emotionally taxing relationship hurricanes, but Andrew has also been my constant companion on the phone, through emails, letters, and random surprise visits to help me through all the tough points this year that I couldn't have gone through alone.  Mon copin (moan ko-pan: my boyfriend) has taught me in the span of 12 short months how difficult but wonderfully freeing it can be to let someone into my life in a very real, honest way.  

Andrew has seen me at my best (when I was trying to impress him into second and third dates) and at my worst (too many times to count), and vice versa.  And tu sais quoi (too say qwa: you know what)?  Every time I see Andrew as his less-than-perfect self, I fall a little more in love with him.  So thank you Andrew for being you, for falling in love with a girl like me, and for sharing this year with me.  I can't wait to see what the next year has in store for us!

La Langue de l'amour

Having just seen another fête de Saint Valentin (fet duh sahn val-en-ton: Saint Valentine's Day) come and go, and having been in France for this particular Valentine's Day and having my very own Valentin to celebrate with, I decided to dedicate this post to educating you in a few of the more important phrases in French,  la langue de l'amour (lah lahn-guh duh luh moor: the language of love):

Joyeuse Saint Valentin (joy-oos san vahlen-ton): "Happy Valentine's Day".  And everyone in France is indeed joyeuse (joyous) by the looks of it, because they all seem to be wrapped arm-in-arm every time I step out of the door.  Where's Andrew when I need him?

Je t'aime (juh t-em): "I like/love you".  Oddly enough, the verb aimer works as both "to like" and "to love".  I wonder if that gets people out of a lot of arguments in the ever-so-awkward "do you love me or just like me" stage of the relationship...

Copain/copine (ko-pan/ko-peen): "Boyfriend/girlfriend".  If you have one of these, then you're probably not dreading Valentine's Day and boycotting Hallmark like I used to as a single girl.

Petit ami/petite amie (puh-teet am-ee/peh-teet ahm-ee): "Little friend".  If you're young (high school or early college) and have a boyfriend/girlfriend, everyone's probably calling them your "little friend" in French with a wink and a nudge, because everyone knows you're incapable of being in a serious relationship with a full-blown "copain" until you're old enough to start paying taxes and dreading your job.

Je t'aime...moi non plus (juh t-em, mwa noh pl-ew): "I love you...me neither".  There was a song written about this sentiment of sex without love by Serge Gainsbourg.  It's now a national mating cry.

Tu me manques (to may mahn-k): "I miss you".  If you know any French at all, or even a little about Latin-based languages, tu me manques seems to more closely resemble "you miss me" than it does "I miss you".  But "to miss (manquer)" in French is a reflexive verb, which means that saying something like "me manque" means "missing myself"...so confusing, and kind of takes the romance out of the sentiment for me, to be honest.

Mon chou (mohn shew):  "My darling".  Well, really it means "my cabbage", which for some reason French women led themselves to believe was a term of endearment...I don't want to delve into that one too much or I might have nightmares.  Personally, I think it's cute when you use it on infants, but if you're actually calling full-grown women vegetables, you're probably also middle-aged, single, and more closely resemble a wilted white vegetable yourself...

Mon puce (mohn poo-s):  "My flea".  Supposed to mean "sweetie" as well, but if anyone ever used this with me I'd slap him.  The French say it's funny, but I think it's just a cop-out.  I'm trying to find the humor behind calling women and children blood-sucking parasites, but why couldn't the French liken those they love to something with a little more cuddle factor, like "my duck" or "my hamster".  Hell, even "my rat" is a step-up from "flea".    

Je t'adore (juh tuh door): "I adore you".  If you don't want to be cliché or boring by saying something as institutionalized as "I love you", why not use the fresher "I adore you" instead? 

Con (con): "Bloody idiot/stupid jerk".  Good word to use on your boyfriend when he forgets Valentine's Day.

Tu es très jolie (to ay tray joe-le): "You're very pretty".  Nice words to use on your girlfriend.  Everyday.  Unless you want to be called a con for the rest of your life.

Nana (na-na): "Pretty girl/chick/hot chick/slut".  Yes, it's slang, and you won't find many guys over the age of 25 using it unless they're losers, virgins, or probably both.  Still a good one to know anyway.

Mec (mek): "Guy".  Slang too, but not quite like nana. 

L'amour (luh moor): "Love".  As in love is in the air, love is all around, love is all we need.

Je te déteste (juh tuh day-test): "I hate you".  For when your mec (or--less likely, but still possible--nana) really screws-up.

Je suis désolé, pardonne-moi, je t'en suplie! (juh swee deh-so-lay, par-don mwa, juh ten soup-lee): "I'm sorry, I'm begging you to forgive me!".  This is crucial to know in case you're that guy (or--less likely, but still possible--girl) who screwed-up, if you know what's good for you!

Joyeuse Saint Valentin everyone, with an extra-special toast and well-wishes for extraordinary love on every other ordinary day of the year!