The Beginning

ORIGINALLY POSTED APRIL 6th

This story starts a few weeks ago on a trip to Paris. But I actually think it starts in 6th grade. We were required to take a language class that introduced us to the 4 possible languages we could study in 7th and 8th grade; Spanish, French, German and Japanese. After the intro class, we ranked our choices for study and while all of my friends ranked Spanish numero uno, (I think this is how it is spelled…case in point, I did not study Spanish) I ranked French. There was something about the language that I just loved.
So 7th grade rolled around and there I was, the eager little one in the front row, ready to learn a foreign language. French and I clicked. I was always the one who knew how to conjugate the verbs, I knew how to pronounce words with accents and most importantly, I learned a little about French culture. From this first year, I knew that I wanted to keep studying French, so I studied it in 8th grade, and then in high school up until my junior year.
Senior year I was put in the position of choosing between studying French and participating in choir, because the classes met at the same time. I chose choir, because while I loved studying French, I knew that in college I would have the opportunity to come back to it, but showchoir? Maybe never again.
So the year came and went and it was time for college. In college we were required to take 1 year of foreign language so everyone was required to take a language placement test. After having not spoken French for a full calendar year and then some, I tested into 300 level French in college. I was the only freshman in my class and I was intimidated as all get out.
I was 8 credits short of a minor when I stepped foot into my first french class in college, I studied French for 2 more years until Spring semester of my Sophomore year, my teacher gave me a poor grade for attendance reasons. (2 absences and a half a letter grade for each additional absence…of course I got extremely sick and blew well through this allowance) I completely understand the teachers reasons for doing so, seeing as that it was Conversational French and I couldn’t very well participate in the conversations from my house.
From that class, I never got back into another class. I remain, to this day, one credit short of a French Minor and I kick myself constantly.
Fast-forward to graduating from college and one of my sorority sisters gets a job as an au pair and moves to Paris. I’m instantly, obviously, jealous. But I could never do that! At this point I had yet to find a job in my chosen career field because my chosen path requires attending grad school, and after my student loans started to fill in, I couldn’t dream of affording grad school, so I resumed my summer jobs and thought I’d go from there.
In the spring, I decided to visit my friend in Paris. Hey, a free safe place to stay and a friend to show me the ropes? Of course. So off I went with my friend to visit. I fell in love the second I stepped off the plane and navigated my way through the crowded and confusing Charles de Gaulle airport, through the metro, where we exited at the wrong time, had to stumble through trying to buy another metro ticket, enter again, find our friend (AKA use our non-international phones to make a very expensive phone call to find out we were just down the hall from where we needed to be) and out into the city. I loved every minute.
I spent the week doing every touristy thing I could think of with my friends and as the week drew to a close, I dreaded going home. My Au Pair friend said, you should be an au pair and come back! Of course, my response was, oh my gosh that would be so fun of course I should! Within a few minutes, she looked at me and said, no seriously. one of my friends has to leave her host family and they are desperate for a replacement. Do you want to start in April-ish?
um….yes?