I learn French, you learn French

This past week I've been frantically trying to actually learn French. In part because its about fricking time, but mostly because I'm getting taken to see Harry Potter in French tonight I want to be able to understand the words not just see the pictures. I'm a bit of a Harry Potter sad case thanks to a bout of toncilitus many moons ago so this is a big deal for me, you could even go so far as to say it is vitally important for my continued well being. Perhaps a tad over dramatic (and a lie) but its what got my boyfriend to agree to take me. And since he's going to the trouble to drive me to another town to see it we shall all ignore my equally fanatical sister's email declaring the new one to be "fucking shite".

Aside from this vitally important reason, I've also noticed people are starting to get a bit impatient with my inabiltiy to "get it" - as my kind sympathetic friend pointed out this week - I've had 5 years rather than 3 days to try. At least once a day I find myself scrabbling for excuse to why my french is crap that doesn't include me being stupid and lazy. Everyone that passes my vicinty has a story about someone they know who is can speak fluently "With. Out. An. Accent" (French people like to talk staccato to make life more dramatic.) within a year of living in France. To which I must reply, red faced and in my thick Scottish accent while fighting the urge to seek out said amazing person and smack them in the face with a baguette for showing me up. It would appear that I'm not - as I previously believed - going to just pick it up. I won't wake up fluent one day or have a miraculous moment where everything just clicks into place. The books must come out and some effort must be made.

So this week the books did come out and I quickly remembered why they had stayed in for so long. Its because its really fucking boring. My most often used excuse not to study is that I'd rather be drawing instead, so I've begun turning my excercise book into a sketch book, and turning my learning into drawings. I've also been been writing bitchy remarks about how shite French is in my notes which cheers me up greatly but that's by the by.

I think I'll share my progress with the world (all 3 of you) once a week to motivate me, seeing as I don't take well to public humiliation and that worked so well with the quitting of smoking.

First up..

Three Irregular Verbs That Do My Fucking Head In.








By the way, should you actually learn anything from this (not likely) you can show your appreciation by sending Greggs Stake Bakes to me at Carolyn Alexander, The Mountain What Where I Live, 73210, Franceland.

Similarly, if you should find your knowledge of French actually decrease (more likely) because of this, feel free to send hate mail to imsosorry@carolynalexander.co.uk

Attempt number 23, 701 at some Threadless action. If you care to do me a solid and make a wee votey here I'll be eternally grateful for at least 10 minutes. Forehead kisses, shoulder squeezes and free holidays to France all round! Hurrah!

clickity click

60+ Years

My board for Zara Arshad's ace 60+ Years project - which aims to creatively commemorate the 60th anniversary of UDHR (Universal Declaration of Human Rights): the first global expression of rights to which all human beings are inherently entitled. See more fabbity contributers on her flickr over here.

moneys

This old news for all you hip dwellers of Britain but for a dweller of mountains this is happiness level factor 10. I found all the pieces of the fabbity new coins (designed by mr Dent) on my last visit to Scotland. They are so pretty it makes the loser inside me weep.

You lucky bastard Britons don't know how good you've got it. Euro's are pish.

été

palette cleanser

Here you go, wash you mouth out with these bad boys to rid yourself of that nasty celebrity taste in your mouth left over form yesterday.

Feel better? Good.

3 reasons why Megan Fox is good

1. She looks a bit like my cousin.
And I like my cousin.

2. She's got good eyebrows.
And eyebrows are hard, just ask this number.

3. She just taught me 15 new french words.
Not personally - but that's not to say she couldn't. I actually learned 15 new French words from a two page article on Megan Fox in Public - a sort of French version of Heat Magazine, and my new best friend. Finally I can embrace my shameful lust for celebrity gossip because its teaching me things! Thank you Public! (And Megan Fox)

ps. Yes I do realise I just wasted some of my precious life force drawing a drawing of Megan Fox that doesn't even really look like Megan Fox, but after learning 15 new French words my brain is pretty much on shut down for the rest of the day.

pps. In case you were wondering:
carriére
caractère bien trempé
incendiaire
oscarisée
réussissait
écartée
limite vulgaire
moulantes
l'entrejambre
planétaire
Shia LaBeouf

ho bitch, thats my chair.

Scram.

six people who are extremely disappointed with you

goodhats

I have the impression the villagers on the mountain what where I live don't really get the shit I wear. I could be wrong.

ladies who love tennis

shop shop

Craploads (and by craploads I mean nine) of new prints for sale now on my etsy shop today. All proceeds go towards the "carolyn alexander is learning to drive in a week" fund, which is not so much of a good cause as it is a cause for concern if you live in my mountains.

Anyways, I'm also trawling through my mountain of original drawings that I have thus far not been able to let go of because I'm a sentimental son of a bitch, so they'll be up by the end of the week too. BUY! BUY! BUY! (please thankyou please)

clickityclick

I quit you, bitch

I'm quitting the mountains to go visit Lyon tomorrow. Not sure why we're actually going or what we're meant to be doing there as I know enough French to ask the question ("pour quoi?") but not enough to understand the answer ("gibberish"). What I do know though is that Lyon is a real city that has everything real cities have and mountains don't like real PAVEMENTS.

I'm so excited I could pee my pants. But I shant.

the amazing adventures of beak boy

nine smug bitches that could do with a slap

she's a wee bit simple, yeah?

It would seem the more French I learn, the more I come across like a big dafty. I had become used to (and rather enjoyed) being a a bit of a deaf mute at social gatherings - laughing along at jokes I didn't get while plotting the violent deaths of everyone involved. But now, thanks to a season working up the ski resort I've been ripped from this lovely little world of pleasant daydreams and shoved roughly into the horror that is small talk. I've picked up enough bits and pieces now so that it would be rude not to try and make conversation with what ever poor bastard unknowingly starts one with me. I still have a touch of the "answering with something completely unrelated to the question" disease which is a tad mortifying, but they leave you alone after that.

Worse is when I understand enough questions in a row to add up to a real conversation which results in the following scenario with varying degrees of red face each time. It begins with me getting so excited and flustered that I fling sentence structure and grammar out the window and begin to speak in tongues. The aforementioned poor bastard's smile fades and their eyes narrow as they try to jigsaw together what the fuck I'm talking about. This gets me all the more flustered as I desperately try to dig my self out of my gibberish pit, until - both of us exhausted - we smile and nod and pretend to have come to some kind of conclusion and get as far away from each other as possible.

Then Raph hands me another martini and I return to the joys of being a deaf mute, where folk look on in smiling pity thinking "oh it must be hard living in a foreign country" as opposed to "what the fuck is she talking about can I GO now?"

get yer hands off my vogue yo

A few ropey doodles from the other day whilst sunbathing. Too much heat makes me put tails on faces. Je ne sais pas pourquoi.

nouveau or nouvelle or whatever

Lots of new work up on m'site in the illustration section. Now go feast yer hungry eyes. Go.

holidays

Well thats me back from my 'sunny' holiday in Glasgow. Theres nothing like two long weeks of pissing rain to make you appreciate France and its huge beasties.

I jest. There were actually about three days of sun and they were fucking MAGICAL. Honestly.