human dependant

I now know that if you announce you're going to be learning a new language, that people will immediately start speaking to you in that language. The very language that you've just pinpointed as one that you do not understand in the slightest.

I've also noticed that the kind of persons that delight in engaging my blankest of expressions always have a big smile on their faces when they start jabbering in french. So I figure I'm at least making these people happy through my, admittedly charming, ignorance. But hear me now, french aficionados: it is important to note that I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT YOU'RE SAYING, so if you told me where the fire exits were during that little performance, know that I will be relying solely on my survival instincts.



On the subject of smiling, this project prompted a pretty big one today. I came across tweenbots via the Frankie blog- these splendid little creatures are a testament to human-robot relations.

what would Barbarella do?

I've been thinking recently that if something scares you, it means you should probably be doing it. I've been considering what it is that I am actually scared of these days. To clarify, not things I have a physical allergy to and simply try to steer clear of (kiwi fruit, cats) or consciously avoid due to a panic attack inducing irrational phobia (footbridges, keira knightley).

As childish as it is, I'm still afraid of trying things I'm not naturally talented at. The first few years of being free and easy and out in the world on my own have allowed me to create a beautiful supportive microcosm to play and create in. But the risk of being surrounded by beauty is forgetting the thrill of danger.

So, as a result, things I'm rubbish at that will be addressed in the coming months:

1. French. Not the entire race; I don't fear you, frenchies. But I can't understand you, either. I'm not that bad at learning new languages, but I hate sounding dopey when I'm learning, which is pretty vain and a ridiculous reason to avoid learning. So when Ky cajoled last night about signing up with her for a ten week Alliance Francaise course I said yes. Classes are on a Saturday morning at 9am, so there's two things I'm petrified of being knocked over in one go. Languages and weekend mornings.

2. Gyms. I'm genuinely untalented at anything athletic. I used to run my sports uniform under a tap at high school so that my PE teacher couldn't make me run in a wet t shirt. The only time I've ever even stepped into a gym was during uni when i needed to capture some atmos sound. But lately I've been thinking that maybe I'm getting too old to avoid all of this exertion stuff that everyone else seems to get off on. So by the end of the next month I'm going to at least go and check out the gyms around newtown and pretend that I don't feel physically ill at the thought of jumping around in front of other people. If any other inner westie fatties want to join me on this, it'd be nice to have some company.

I'm comforting myself with the hope that both learning french and looking skinnier/being able to lift heavier objects can only be beneficial to my otherwise hedonistic lifestyle. Worked for Fonda.