Why I am still so F%#@*ng French after all these years...

The other day, Reb posted a blog entry titled "10 reasons I know I'm still American." For the record, this blogger has been living in France (she now lives near Lille, actually!) for a good number of years, close to ten, I believe.

This led me to think about the fact that, although I consider myself probably more American than French, there's still a little French dudette lurking inside of me and, at this point, it's a lost cause to think that she will ever leave. Let us, then, discover together what impact her presence has on me and my idiosyncracies.

1. I still count, and do all computations only in French - This may be due to the fact that I memorized my multiplication tables and was forced to practice mental arithmetic (which was sheer torture) to no end while in primary school. By the way, when my daughter learned subtractions and divisions in school, I had a tough time helping her, because I had learned to set them up differently when I was an elementary school kid in France.

2. I never, or very seldom snack - A dictum in my household, when I was growing up, was on ne mange pas entre les repas (one does not eat between meals), and I still abide by that rule.

3. I prefer French films to the typical Hollywood fare - Which is interesting, because Reb mentioned that, as an American, she still "didn't get" French films. However, I did not get at all, and found the French comedy Le Père Noël est une ordure to be an outrageously crude piece of trash. I did mention the other day that one of my very favorite French films is Un Air de Famille by Cédric Klapisch, a film that, perhaps, most Americans wouldn't like because it's heavy on dialogues and very thin on action. But it does capture the dynamics of a highly dysfunctional family amazingly well. My favorite American film is probably Christopher Guest's Waiting for Guffman - I know it's no masterpiece, but it's a great comedy!

4. I hate peanut butter and ketchup - I cannot stand peanut butter (although I do like peanuts!), and never found that peanut butter and jelly sandwiches were good. I also would never ever think of putting ketchup on French fries (although I pretty much never eat French fries nowadays), and found it shocking when I realized that my own daughter loved peanut butter, and put ketchup on her fries (as you can see on this picture, Claire really does love ketchup - she drinks it from the bottle!). I always kid my boyfriend because he puts ketchup on omelets. I find that truly disgusting! For the record, I put ketchup and mayonnaise (sort of my own "special sauce") on hamburgers - but I don't eat those very often. I do not put ketchup on any other food. I also find it extremely disgusting to put ketchup on hot dogs (I personally prefer chili! And, believe it or not, in spite of the fact that they are a disgusting food, I do love hot dogs. But I eat them extremely rarely.)

5. I prefer eating my salad after, rather than before my main course - Probably because that's when salad is eaten in France. I truly do not like eating my salad before my main course, although I do it whenever I am invited somewhere to eat, or if I eat in a restaurant where the salad is served first.

6. I miss French bread, immensely - My parents always commented that they had never been able to understand why a country such as the United States could not produce decent bread, and made do with the "Wonder" variety. Same here, really. Even what passes as French baguette at Whole Foods is a far cry from its very worst French equivalent.

7. I sometimes speak to myself in French, and occasionally swear in French - I have written before here that I find it fairly inconsequential to use profanities in English, probably because they are less emotionally charged for me in that language, because it's not my native tongue. As a result, I swear more typically in English than in French. But, once in a while a nicely nailed putain de merde or bordel proves more effective and cathartic than damn or fuck. Oh, and people constantly ask me if I dream in French. I pretty much never do, but the weirdest dream I ever had, decades ago, was one in which some of my cousins, who do not really speak English, were speaking this language flawlessly. I remember thinking, for the entire duration of this dream, that it was somewhat surreal.

8. Even after having lived here for 33 years, I still do not understand America's "patriotism," which, to me, is nothing short of jingoism - I could never ever utter the following words: "I am proud to be an American," even though I have been an American citizen since 1993, and I could never display an American flag in front of my house. I do, however, treasure the small American flag that I was given on the day I was sworn in as an American citizen, and I also own a small pair of French and American flags. But I display them for sentimental reason, not out of patriotism.

9. I gather that I still have a bit of a French accent - Even though I never really think much about it, some people occasionally make me aware of this fact - for example when they ask me, "where are you from?" I usually respond that I am from a little town in Western Pennsylvania, but I know that they're asking this question because, upon hearing me speak, they detect that I have some sort of a foreign/European accent. I absolutely hate it when it is the first thing that people notice about me.

10. There is still a part of me that even my closest American friends will never understand - I have discussed this before on this blog. That entire part of me that is French is very opaque to my American friends, and only a French expat who has lived in the U.S. as long as I have can understand it.