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Talking

I have a taped interview my neighbor did with me when I was thirteen. In it she asks about my hobbies, and I respond with a scripted sounding list of activities that included writing music and playing with my brother and sister.

She then asks me, "What about talking on the phone."

Apparently, I've been a talker for a long time.

I went to South American Soccer Night this week and caught up with my favorite Brazilian after the game. He told me how much his sister liked me, and I laughed as I pointed out that I held my own in Portuguese as we talked about my family and living in Orlando and about our jobs as teachers.

"I know," he said. "She told me that you two would have talked all night if my mom had not interrupted."

I laughed, remembering her poking her head out the door and telling us that we needed to stop talking and go to sleep because I had to go to work in the morning. Like any obedient children, we followed her orders.

Yeah...we would have talked all night in my horrible blend of Portuguese and Spanish.

I'm having fun with these languages and learning to navigate my way through foreign communication. My desperate need to communicate is coming in handy. My goal is to be "fluent" in four languages by the end of the year: English, Spanish, Portuguese, and Catalan.

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