Où est-ce que je vais aller d'ici?

Where am I going to go from here?

Last night was one of the most eye-opening nights of my life. For a few moments, I caught a glimpse into my not so distant future, and I was terrified and excited. Let me recount...

Last night, I went to a little birthday get-together by Le Club Francophone's president, E.. She said to meet her at her office--I was getting a ride from her. So, I went and met her friends, S. and R.. Both women. S. went ahead to reserve a table at the restaurant. I should probably explain a little more about them just so that they're more than the names I give them...

E. just turned 41, which is amazing because I would have guessed that she was 10 years younger. She has a French background--her Mom is French. I don't know how old R. is, but I'm guessing in her early 30s. She is of Arabic origin and teaches Arabic. S. is a grad student for French and is in her early 30s.

As we were walking to E.'s car, R. turns to me and says, "You are cute! You have such a nice face." I was a bit taken aback by this compliment--especially to have it come from someone I just met.* It was also nice because she speaks with an Arabic accent. I'll never forget that moment and how good it made me feel. It was spontaneous and unexpected and it will probably never happen again. I mean, when will a woman of Arabic descent ever tell me that I have a nice face? I'm still glowing from it. Also, E. talked a bit about her birthday history...she said that she used to be really depressed around her birthday and not do anything because her family was so far away, and her husband had left her...I had no idea. I just never would have thought that would be her history. She's such a nice, funny woman. It was just shocking. She went on saying that she got over it and that she should go out and be with people on her birthday because it only comes once a year and that there's no use in being depressed on your birthday.

As she spoke of these things, I saw myself in her, like a reflection of myself in her eyes as she spoke of being alone on her birthday. Because I'm like that too. I get pretty depressed around my birthday and just want to be alone.

We arrived at the restaurant. Everyone ordered alcoholic drinks except me of course. It was funny because E. got carded! When she showed the waitress her license, S. was all, "You're carding her, and look how old she is! It's her birthday!" We teased E. a bit, but she didn't mind it. I was the youngest person at the table. It was awkward, but pretty cool. So this is what adult women do. They order extremely large margaritas and appetizers and talk about their problems, politics, and women's stuff. It was very interesting.

Afterwards, E. drove me home. She put the car in park right outside Humanities and started giving me this pep talk. She started off saying that we need a new President for the club and how my name came up. She said that though I may not see it now, I have a lot of leadership qualities. I thought, "Uh...I earned the nickname Prufrock back home. Are you kidding?" I laughed out loud when she had said it, and she replied, "No, I'm serious, Elaine. I believe that if you had to do something, you would get out there and do it." She told me how my TA and French professors think that I'm a great French student and how she believes that I can really keep the club from dying.

In hindsight, I really wonder if she means these things or if she's just pushing me to be president next fall. I told her last night, "I'm scared. But I would do it to save the club." She was thrilled. But I said would. I'd hate to see the club in shambles just because we couldn't find someone to be a president. And I like being a part of the club.

She then rambled on and on about her French graduate work and all the stuff she's going through. I was exhausted, I had to pee, and I couldn't breathe in her car--we were still parked with the engine running and no air. I noticed that the windows in the back were fogging up. But she wouldn't stop talking, and I didn't have the heart to stop her. She told me that I should get my Masters in French and blah, blah, blah. She then let me go--we were in the car for an hour and a half--and apologized for keeping me out so late, but I said that it was okay.

Wow. That was too much. I feel like French is becoming more and more of my career, more than film. Will it be possible to pursue both? At the same time? I don't want to have to let go of either of them. These questions plagued my mind on the walk home. What's going to become of me?

This little weekend getaway I'm going on came at the right time. I have a lot to think about. Have a great rest of the week all, and I'll post next week. Check out the sugary confection on "cinematic".

*Now, if only a boy would say that to me. Sigh...