s'est passe

When you learn a foreign language, you [un]knowingly sign up for regular embarrassment. Because when you're learning a language, all pride goes out the door. You'll be speaking broken, mismatched, strangled words to someone who is fluent, and you'll just have to swallow that embarrassment and do it the next day.

That's been the epitome of my classroom experience since day one of French 101.

And it was no exception when I went up to my French teacher today during our final and asked about what exactly we were supposed to be writing about with our essay. Apparently I can't read French.

He read what I had written so far. Laughed. Told me, "I probably shouldn't tell you this..." and then explained what I was supposed to be writing.

I sat back down. Re-read the prompt. It clicked. (The phrase I got stuck on before was like one of those words on the tip of your tongue; I could almost taste the understanding, but not quite.)

I walked out of the final, glad to be finished and mortified that I didn't know what s'est passe meant.

Good thing I had a Cadbury Creme Egg waiting for me at home. And a text saying, "Im sure you rocked it cause lets be honest youre pretty awesome."







All in all;
good day.