Ever forget words in English when your head becomes a mess of French/English/Puppy language?

I keep telling myself to write down all the crazy stuff that's been happening here so when I'm an old lady I won't forget... I feel like I've been here much longer than the 2 months or so and FINALLY my french is improving leaps and bounds. I can understand almost everything people are saying, but still have this mortal fear of talking. It's getting better, slowly.

Backing it up a bit. First, a few weeks ago, I got sicker than I've been in a really long time. The first day that I woke up and realized how bad it was, I was worried. Especially worried, because my phone and internet went down during a storm the night before and I still don't have a cell phone. I made it into work since people would think I was dead if I disappeared. There's a nurse at work, like I had in elementary school. Anyways, I made it to about 10 AM and realized that it was very likely I was dying. I trudged into her office where she was giving a bare chested man a heart scan thing. Just out in the open, very French style (which I know for fact based on my recent chest xray for my work visa- just strip off the shirt and bra...) I sat down and waited, and when I told the nurse that I couldn't move, felt like a bus had run over my face, was about to throw up, and oh yeah, my fever feels like it's peaked 105 or so. She goes through a littany of tests (which include 3 different stomach relievers/applesauce/6 sucre en morceaux). The best part. She made me tea and offered a mint flavored liquor accompaniment. Basically, we spent an hour chit chatting (her) and approaching death (me). Ultimately, her diagnosis was that my failure to eat breakfast (too much yacking) made my blood sugar drop to dangerous levels causing my symptoms.

I made it home that day and didn't leave bed for 3 days. True story. I survived off of frosted flakes and a combination of sleeping pills and antibiotics. Turns out it was strep throat. Which was a little exacerbated by the whole being alone in France, no food, modern medicine thing that occurred.

C'est la vie. I lived. Other fun stuff that's happened. Fete du lac. Something like that. My memories from that entire night are a large blur. I know I was on a boat. I know that I was at a bbq with many, many bottles of wine and an unfortunate memory of several shots of absinthe or something. I remember getting into some political debates. About it. I think the fireworks were beautiful though. There was also an unfortunate incident that night that involved a patch of nettles, my hands, a camera, and my bare ass.

I went to a "tubberware" party. There was a 4 year old in attendance because the universal name of "tubberware party" was lost on the mom. It will be great inspiration for her to remember next year when she writes her letter to Santa. In her dreams, her gifts will all be pink, phalic shaped, rotating, and totally awesome.

I went to Font D'Urle and saw a wild boar. This alone gave me night terrors.

Work work work. There's a lot of that.

I got a puppy. He is a Yorkie named Don Juan. He is a terror and 9 weeks old. I love him most of the time except when he wakes up barking at 4 am. And when he humps any leg he can get around, which is totally giving credence to his name.

I'm a regular Martha Stuart now. I cook all the time.

France is still awesome. I like it a lot and don't want to leave. Even though I'll have to eventually, especially because I cracked a filling, need a root canal and miss my dentist from home. Anyone know any good cosmetic dentists in this part of the globe?