trib·ute (tr
b
y
t)n.
1. A gift, payment, declaration, or other acknowledgment of gratitude, respect, or admiration: put up a plaque as a tribute to his generosity.
2. Evidence attesting to some praiseworthy quality or characteristic: Winning the scholarship was a tribute to her hard work.
3. a. A payment in money or other valuables made by one ruler or nation to another in acknowledgment of submission or as the price of protection or security.
b. A tax imposed for such payment.
4. Any payment exacted for protection.
5. a. A payment or tax given by a feudal vassal to an overlord.
b. The obligation to make such a payment.
I was paid tribute in the best of ways this past weekend, by a family whose greatest skill used to be to instill fear and anxiety in my deepest of depths. Les Fourre's truly wanted to understand my culture and upbringing... highlighted during their visit to San Diego, two great days of tour-guiding, laughter, and joy that I almost lost touch with... without their three children, I would never have become who I am today, nor understood empathy, self-love, and efficacy as I do now.
Highlights:
* Pierre (the eldest son) falling asleep in his beloved, crisp white Converse after a trip to a mall near my high school.
* Iris scrambling to dig and cover a hole with bare hands and slimy seaweed... for the first time in her 8 years.
* Paul shooting invisible Allemands from a toy aircraft in Miramar in 105 degree heat.
* Trying to keep myself from laughing at Paul yelling out "CRETIN IMBECILE" at Pierre in the middle of the San Diego Zoo.
* My au pair mother and I laughing more than we had in the 10 months we had lived together.
* Not seeing my au pair father Jean-Marc in any of his speedos.
* Eating authentic French meals two nights in a row from Trader Joe's in a bungalow on Crystal Pier.
* Drinking wine in the sand with my best friend Jon, while midnight fog rolled in, accompanied by the drunk nudity of two clumsy strangers.
I wish I could think about anything else... ie finals that are actually more captivating than insinuating, a summer without any concrete plans (boy, living in La Brea for 800 a month or earn the trust of my boyfriend's folks in Greenwich, CT... coin toss?), or how creepy Facebook's instant messaging system is.
I miss my French soulmates, and hopefully "a la prochaine" won't be another three years away.
Oh yeah, Joyeux National Day of Prayer... what a beautiful, pays ridicule we live in.
I was paid tribute in the best of ways this past weekend, by a family whose greatest skill used to be to instill fear and anxiety in my deepest of depths. Les Fourre's truly wanted to understand my culture and upbringing... highlighted during their visit to San Diego, two great days of tour-guiding, laughter, and joy that I almost lost touch with... without their three children, I would never have become who I am today, nor understood empathy, self-love, and efficacy as I do now.
Highlights:
* Pierre (the eldest son) falling asleep in his beloved, crisp white Converse after a trip to a mall near my high school.
* Iris scrambling to dig and cover a hole with bare hands and slimy seaweed... for the first time in her 8 years.
* Paul shooting invisible Allemands from a toy aircraft in Miramar in 105 degree heat.
* Trying to keep myself from laughing at Paul yelling out "CRETIN IMBECILE" at Pierre in the middle of the San Diego Zoo.
* My au pair mother and I laughing more than we had in the 10 months we had lived together.
* Not seeing my au pair father Jean-Marc in any of his speedos.
* Eating authentic French meals two nights in a row from Trader Joe's in a bungalow on Crystal Pier.
* Drinking wine in the sand with my best friend Jon, while midnight fog rolled in, accompanied by the drunk nudity of two clumsy strangers.
I wish I could think about anything else... ie finals that are actually more captivating than insinuating, a summer without any concrete plans (boy, living in La Brea for 800 a month or earn the trust of my boyfriend's folks in Greenwich, CT... coin toss?), or how creepy Facebook's instant messaging system is.
I miss my French soulmates, and hopefully "a la prochaine" won't be another three years away.
Oh yeah, Joyeux National Day of Prayer... what a beautiful, pays ridicule we live in.
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