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rue-madame's Diaryland Diary

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And you will know me by my trail of vainglorious Frenchisms

I prematurely conducted my coffee experiment this afternoon.

I had a cappuccino and felt fine for oh, about half an hour before the pain kicked in and my esophagus was on fire and searing with pain. Even at this late hour, I am still feeling little waves of burning.

Itís safe to say I cannot drink caffeinated coffee anymore. This is a modern day tragedy, people. How can I possibly claim to be French? I donít smoke, I donít drink coffee, I donít own an adorable little dog, I donít have a hot young lover... which blatant signifiers are left for me to claim as my own?

Maybe I should permanently graft a beret to my head?

Thank god Iím only kidding.

While Iím on the subject of things superficially French, allow me to rail against something I despise (an activity which naturally underscores my Frenchitude): the horrible, clichťd book known as Le Divorce.

My god! How I loathed it! It was facile and pretentious, and it reinforced antiquated stereotypes about French and American cultural differences. On top of that, there were untranslated French phrases sprinkled throughout the book to, Iím sure, lend an air of authenticity but all that did was annoy me because I knew what the phrases meant, but most readers wouldnít because they donít speak or read French! Duh! And there was no glossary! The affectation served only to underscore just how conceited the author is (ďLook at me and how well I understand French! Arenít I special? I can expertly drop any old Gallic colloquialism into an English sentence and seem so worldly!Ē)

I canít stand that shit. Yet another movie I wonít be seeing. And you know, Iím a big Thierry Lhermitte fan. Usually I see anything that heís in because that man has the most incredible green eyes, and is very, very foxy. Tant pis. I will now be free to focus more of my adoration towards Mathieu Kassovitz.

Gros bisous mon amour,

rue-madame

10:16 p.m. - 2003-08-25

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