A third of the way into my immersion experience, I'm taking a moment to blog before I lose all of my English (without gaining any French, I suspect). What's up? Avec moi, I mean. Well, I've been living with a fantastic family and I've got a great roommate. The first week, the biggest problem was that Lisette (ma dame-hotesse) is an absolutely incredible cook (as apparently are all of the women here - I think it's a small-town thing) who serves gigantic portions and I didn't (and still don't) know enough French to say, "No thanks, I'm full" or "Do you think I could have a smaller helping?" or "Actually, I think I'll skip dessert today" without sounding very rude. Let's just say that it's a good thing I'm walking and biking everywhere. The first week was great because we were permitted to use as much English as we needed/wanted and there were only 20 students. Then the real immersion began. Suddenly on Friday night the town was overwhelmed with 280 anglophones over the age of 18, all forbidden to speak English (or, for that matter, Latin - no loophole there even if I remembered enough to take advantage of it). The mad rush for rental bikes began (I'm so glad I got mine last week), the flirting began (what's with the summer romance thing? It doesn't appeal to me) and the Virus de Trois-Pistoles set in. I'm actually pretty sure that we've got our very own virus here. I had it on the weekend, my roommate has it now, and students, professors, animateurs and host families are down with it. It's like bronchitis with vertigo. To be honest, I may be the source of this bizarre mutation - it appears to be a combination of the pseudo-mono I had in February with the inner-ear infection from final exams. It may have been incubating in me all along, just testing itself out every once in a while, and only with this new crowd of people has it really reared its ugly head. So if a strange new flu epidemic comes along, I apologize to the world and I lay full blame on the stress of law school.

When not battling the Plague, I've been undergoing a love-hate relationship with school. It's like returning to kindergarten... fantastic in many ways, but also a little difficult. It's nice that they plan activities for us morning, noon, and night (and no, that's not an exaggeration), but it's a little unsettling to realize that the activities and classes and so forth are actually mandatory. I mean, they take attendance and count demerits if we're late. It's a bizarre shift from law school, where they assume that we're old enough to take responsibility for our own education and that we can deal with the consequences on our own without their help. I'm chafing a bit under the presence requirements - I missed a day because I was sick and it counts as an absence and with three absences I don't get a certificate... you get the idea. Oh well, that's life and it's good for me to have to follow inane rules for a while, I guess. The funny thing is, I would be on time, attend class, and go to the activvities anyways and do it with a much better will if it wasn't all mandatory. I guess it's human nature to hate doing what you've got to do.

Speaking of which, I need to go take part in - get this - a mandatory soiree. Like, a mandatory party. At the school, granted, but really... mandatory? A party? If you can't make a party fun enough that people come of their own accord, maybe you should consider doing something else with your time.

I'll write again after my mandatory party.