Tuesday, April 12, 2011

I have been stressing out about speaking French in Paris for like twenty years. I like to get a jump on worrying and so in my twenties I started imagining a fantasy man who would take me away for a romantic weekend. He never came. Until now. And he claims we have an eleven year old daughter together. Anyway, I haven't slept for many a night due to my scary cough.  So there is no way I can learn enough French to not feel horrible about myself in the next ten days.  But wait! F bought a new ipod touch that has an app (application) called Jibbigo in which you can speak English and out comes the phrase you want in French. Poor Ipod touch. My drag queen/Kathleen Turner after two pints of whiskey voice was too much for it.

K: I am an American.
Ipad: I am napkin rings.
K: I am an American (cough, cough) but I live in Italy.
Ipad: I'll have him napkin rings in Kigali.
K: I am an American?
F: Let me have a turn, let me have a turn.
K: Wait a sec.
Ipad: How can American high his neighbors?
F: My turn! (laughing)
K: C'mon. I am an American.
Ipad: I have it in your room.
K: Ooh la la,  monsieur ipod . . . I am an American.
Ipad: I have been hurting.
K: It knows my pain.
F: (laughing hysterically)
K: However I live in Italy.
Ipad: However I was in a hurry.
F: I am an American but I live in Italy.
Ipad: Je suis Americain mais je suis aux italie.
F: See that. It loves me. Listen to this: I caught the ball.

Ipad: I have balls.

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