Mr. President?

Tell me, is or is not the current President of the United States of America visiting Centenary's campus (First time in 435 years! Oldest Liberal Arts School West of the Mississippi!)? I can't decide why I'm upset but I am. Am I missing it? Is there anything to miss? Would I have the nerve to walk around campus in my "NOT MY PRESIDENT" t-shirt? Would he have to have an interpreter so that intelligent, well-educated people could understand him? Would there be the customary Centenary reception, with cookies? Why does this computer lab smell like onions?

Good news: My friend Abbey is venturing to Paris with me (hello, seven a.m.) so that I don't have to find my way through Charles DeGaulle airport alone. For those who have not experienced CDG, it came into being when M.C. Escher and Salvador Dali got really drunk together and decided they hated the French and would thwart all attempts to enter or exit the country by building an "airport."

I'm already slipping into a depression of cheeselessness. I can't win.

But in case you thought I was crazy, or lying about nothing France working, here is a transcript of this afternoon's conversation in my french class.

Yanick: (the teacher, heretofore known as "Y"): Quand quelque-chose ne marche plus, en française, on dit "il est en panne." Un example? (When something no longer works, in french we say it's "en panne." An example?)

Polish guy: Rien ne marche plus en France. L'internet, les téléphones... (Nothing works in France. Etc.)

Y: Rien? Non, non, non. Tout les choses en France sont en gréve. Ils participent à un manifestation, c'est le sport national Français. (Nothing? No, no, no... everything in France is on strike. Things take part in demonstrations, it's the national sport of France.)

Fin.

It's oddly comforting to know that the fact that nothing works is a big national joke. In fact, it clarifies a lot of things. Perhaps I'll miss the confusion and decay over the nexy week. My only hope is that my friends, who are going to the Valley of the Somme and then to Hamster-dam, will pick me up a postcard and not get arrested upon re-entering France while I'm gone.

And Josh is throwing me a going-away party, which is cute because I will only be gone for approximately ten days.

Also, our illustrious Dominican/ Puerto Rican, Gisel, wants me to mention her so I will only say that her turret's syndrome is making it hard for me to get anything done. And that people who go to Barcalona to spend the weekend with their boyfriend in a five-star hotel are lucky I let them eat my cookies.

Something I forgot to mention: the zoo in Lille has a prairie-dog (les chiens du prairie) exibit. Nothing but prairie-dogs cuddling under a heat-lamp. This was directly next to the guiney-pig exibit. Dad, this place is for you. You wanna see it?

This time tomorrow I'll be in the States. Call me.