Thursday, May 30, 2013

Mon cauchemar

Salut, tout le monde ! C'est Sabine, et j'ai eu le pire cauchemar. Je me suis levée à 2h30, et j'ai crié. Sandrine a été fâchée parce que j'ai interrompu son sommeil. Alors, Sandrine aime aussi la fille qui était la « star » de mon cauchemar.

I'm just warning you, this nightmare that I had actually happened in real life before. Je sais, j'ai toute de la chance. 

So, here is how my nightmare began. I was talking to Julien, so I thought it was going to be a a very good dream. I don't remember what Julien and I were talking about in the dream, but that isn't the main focus of the dream. Sadly. I wish it were!

Chrissa then made an appearance. She was wearing her favorite outfit. She wore it when I saw her last summer, and she called it her "French" outfit. It made me want to gag. Anyway, that was what Chrissa was wearing in my nightmare. She came up behind me and said, "Hey, Sabs and Julien! You two are French, so I need your opinion. Don't I just look so French? I think I do! I mean, everybody knows that all French girls wear striped shirts, boots, miniskirts, and berets!" 

The worst part of this nightmare was that Chrissa had told me the exact same thing in real life. So yeah, in my dream, I was practically reliving my time spent with Chrissa. That is something that I don't want to do. After she said that in my nightmare, I immediately covered her mouth and told her that I was having a conversation that didn't concern here. Therefore, I don't want her dumb interruptions. In real life when this happened, I was talking to Lilly. Lilly basically shouted a profanity-laced "go away" at Chrissa, but Chrissa didn't get it. She just stood there and kept trying to talk to me. 

My nightmare was pretty true to reality because Chrissa kept talking. I then grabbed her and yelled at her (which I wish I had the guts to do in real-life sometimes, not going to lie). "Listen, Chrissa," I said firmly, "First off, don't call me 'Sabs'. Second off, no, I'm pretty sure only people who have a stereotypical view of French culture--'people' includes you--believe that French people dress like that. Thirdly, I'm French, you've seen me, and I don't dress like that. Before you embarrass yourself further, just stop talking about things you aren't familiar with. Tu comprends?!?!"

Chrissa nodded, smiled, and said that she would love to stay and chat, but she was going to watch Le fabuleux destin d'Amelie Poulain with her friends, and she didn't want to miss it. Of course it was that movie. That's like the stereotypical French movie. 

After she left, I banged my head against the wall, which I seemed to be doing a lot of lately. Julien stroked my hair while I whispered to nobody in particular, "Je veux la tuer.

Then, I woke up and screamed. I knew that something similar would happen when I did the summer program in the US that I usually go to. I know Chrissa will be there unless by some miracle she has a dance intensive during one of the three weeks. Sadly, I'm not that lucky. Miracles like that never happen to me.

As you can tell, Chrissa really bothers me sometimes.


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