December 18, 1988: One week before Christmas. I should have bought tickets for Theatre de la Ville yesterday, but oh well. I was thinking today about what I should have written for my AP English exam. The theme of the essay was 'the more things change, the more they stay the same.' I should have written: 'I knew this kid once. I couldn't stand him when I was little. He was such a jerk. We used to play on the same hockey team, so when I saw him yesterday -- fifteen years later -- I knew his name. Hey John, I said, how are you? He told me he was now working in a downtown law firm and he still played hockey on the weekends for fun. How he had changed! I still didn't like him. THE END.' That's what I should have written but I didn't.
I'm starting to speak rather well in French, if I do say so myself. I went to Laura's tonight and we played games but then I met her French sister and boyfriend-in-law, and I understood just about everything they said. They said I spoke very well, but with a strong American accent, which is not necessarily a bad thing.
Dec. 21, 1988: Tomorrow is the beginning of the end. I can't say that I'm overwhelmed with feelings one way or the other. I have a cold right now, which always makes me want to be at home, but I suppose the next best thing will be to have Ma and Dad in Paris. I hope they a good time, I'm serious. By the way, I successfully bought tickets for the Theatre de la Ville. It should be fun. Tomorrow night is the Opera. Orphee aux Enfers. I hope it's good. Paris Paris Paris.
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