Public Republic

AnnMarie Rudin

Lille, 02-février. 12

I slept in. Overslept is most likely the more precise word to use, for I unintentionally slept too long, unconsciously ignoring the alarms that rang under my pillow. Oops.

Therefore, I missed my first class of the day, which was French to German translation. The class is underwhelmingly simple, so I do not have a guilty conscious. I promised myself to try not to do this again.

I readied myself without rush until my afternoon class, which is, to the contrary, overwhelmingly simple. It pains me to waste the two hours sitting in that course. I try to think about anything and everything other than what my docent is saying.

Frankly, she is not a competent teacher. I would recommend a refresher methodology course, because her lessons are dull: Having us complete a listening activity, only to grade it and return it the following week is not going to improve my listening comprehension.

No; all it will prove is what my current listening comprehension is. My goal is to improve myself by learning. It seems fruitless to me to assess myself by an impromptu exercise.

The last 30 minutes of class, Randi and I discussed what we wanted to do after the lesson. As a reward, we wanted to buy ourselves a piece of pain au chocolat.

In the evening, I met up with a group of friends. We passed the evening at the apartment of one, and we ate and drank and danced and socialized. We took pictures with each other. Always laughing. Always smiling. That’s the way life should be.

I complained that I could not stay out too late, for I had class early the next morning and furthermore the assignments for which I had not yet completed. One of my friends grabbed me by my shoulders to hug me. She told me to live and dance and stay out late. The morning will come, and I will go to class, but I should enjoy the night, as well.

I ended up going to bed at 3 in the morning.

Her advice though is something that I should always put into consideration. When we left the apartment, skipping down the streets and shouting as loud as we could, I wondered if I should stay with them to go to a bar, or if I should head back to my own room. Truthfully, I spent another hour with them at least at a bar, before I kissed my friends goodnight and took my leave.

Walking back to my building, I felt very mature and even attractive. It was a brisk night, which seemed to rejuvenate my skin and my spirit. Facing the wind, I felt the breeze through my hair and on my face and neck as I rushed home.

I didn’t even bother to look at my homework. Instead, I put on an episode of How I Met Your Mother to fall asleep to. That shows brings back many memories from the past year alone, and I started to miss a friend of mine.

He and I were very close, but sometimes, things don’t work out between a man and a woman. It’s a shame. I started to regret decisions I had made, but then I remembered that I mustn’t do that. I will not write to him to apologize. I will remain courteous, and if he wants to nourish our friendship, I will help him as much as I can.