N'importe quoi!

Hello blog world. Today I feel like sharing a word with you. Whatever. Simply that, whatever. What do I mean by that, you ask? It's funny...I don't really know. Am I expressing doubt? Disgust? Disinterest? Am I criticizing the attitude of someone else or does it reflect my own? You never really know, and this is the beauty of the world "whatever".



The nearest French equivalant that I've found is "n'importe quoi". However, I don't think there are as many vague meanings with this expression like there are in English. I tend to say it in response to the actions of someone else. Like, "They'll do whatever!" which means this person is basically ridiculous or mentally unsound. I really like this expression and I say it quite often, even when it perhaps doesn't really fit the context. Small example of a conversation where I mis-use this phrase:



Person (in French): ...and then she went to the grocery store, with her kids.

Me: N'importe quoi!



And then the person gives me a weird look. Because I can say this French phrase relatively well, but have no idea how to use it. Oops.

Whatever.

A River Ran Through It

The ancient building of this school has finally betrayed us. But more Natalie than me.

When we first arrived we wondered why our sinks made such ridiculous noises. Gurgling and glugging. Everytime someone used the sink in one room to wash our faces or our underwear (okay, that was only me, and only because I couldn't be bothered to walk all the way to the laudrymat and spend 3.20euros) there would be an awful stench bubbling up from someone else's sink. Not pleasant, but also not life threatening. And recently, for about the last month, anytime we've used our sinks it's taken a bit longer than normal for the water to flow out. Also a pain, but nothing we couldn't deal with for a few more weeks. Natalie's sink was the worst, with dirty water hanging around for a good twenty minutes after she brushed her teeth. But she's leaving at the end of March to begin school again back in Cologne. So she thought she could leave it until she was gone.

But then the water refused to go anywhere. Period. Just sat in her sink, a swirling puddle of toothpaste and soap. So she talked with our friend Dominique. Dominique is in charge of the "internat" (boarding school) and has before told us that he has all the keys to everyone's room. He says this with a wicked look in his eye, like he's going to come and spy on us in the showers. But really we know he can't be bothered to leave his office and climb all eight flights of stairs to get to our rooms, so we had to go find him in order to solve this little problem. He sent a funny little repair man, who putzed around in Natalie's room all afternoon and finally came to the conclusion that everything was blocked. Quite content with this discovery, he went home. And left the foul-smelling pipe open. Natalie had instructions to clean out her closet because they'd have to take the whole thing apart the next day.

This was already unpleasant enough, when she noticed her carpet kept getting wetter, and wetter. And the horrible, noxious smell got worse and worse. We began dissembling her carpet squares and carrying them into the hallway. It was then that we made the discovery that anytime anyone in our section of the school used their water, it ALL flowed into Natalie's room. In toxic puddles. We communicated to everyone in our 5-year-old French that they could not, under ANY circumstances, use their water. Still, we had our hands full when first me, then Pedro forgot and used their sinks anyway. I had to literally put tape over my sink so I wouldn't use it.

After washing all her carpet squares in the showers and propping them up to dry, Natalie moved her mattress into my room. The girl was quite a trooper and to end the day well we watched Madagascar and ate chocolate. In fact, we ate the chocolate I bought to send to a certain boyfriend. My dear roommate was in need and it was sacrificed for a good cause. (Plus she even bought you some more, Ben, so no worries:)

Today the funny French repairmen came back and worked their magic. They tore apart Natalie's room, but then they put it back together again and she was able to re-install her carpet that thankfully does not smell like an outhouse anymore. All the sinks work and I even still have the key to the secret, special bathroom they let us use!! (basically where they keep the vacuum). Nothing smells bad and another day in France ends with chocolate.

PS: Also, HAPPY BIRTHDAY to my Dad!!! Aren't you glad you didn't have major plumbing problems to deal with today?