Those first three months in Austin were off to a sweet start: I had an awesome place to stay courtesy of University Towers (24th Street and Rio Grande); the weather was great (compared to the Midwest); the job was relatively easy (yet not very challenging); and I took a French refresher through UT’s casual night classes (no credit). The missing element from this new equation were new friends. Doc and I was already friends since Marquette but our situation was evolving into the boss-employee dynamic. There were also signs of things souring between us (it’s OK, this was patched up in a year). Regardless, Doc had his own life in Austin with Eiko and UT classes. My arrival wasn’t an automatic license to monopolize his time so I needed to find other people to share my specific interests.
If I had gotten my long-term plan figured out when I graduated from Marquette instead of making up my life as I went, I probably would’ve never moved to Austin. Too late though. Over three years had passed and I still had no real direction. There was the brief golden age in Milwaukee with kinko’s but I stupidly threw it all away for GDW. Despite the great friends I made through GDW, it was a disastrous career move I clung to for 15 months with a chaser of 10 weeks on unemployment. Had I been a braver, stronger person, I would’ve bailed as soon as the ink dried on the Mythus-Gygax swindle. Heck, wiser options were in the ashes of my firing from GDW: go to ISU full time (odds favored Grandma footing the bill, she was an alumnus) or pack up my junk, pound the pavement in Milwaukee. I took the cowardly route: temporary work in Pontiac and the full-time dead end in Peoria with DG; meeting Christina and knowing Rad more was the silver lining.
When Austin came along, I formulated one of the dumbest plans to work toward a more interesting career.
- Work long enough to earn my residency so I could enroll at the University of Texas.
- Earn my BA in French was the point of UT. It’s what I was taking part-time at Illinois Stat and while I took French 1, I had an A going until GDW made me quit. Christina, (A Suivre) and movies encouraged me to try again in the near future.
- With my second degree and fluency in French, I could then land a better gig in Chicago. Never mind how much I hated the Winter weather.
Only the Underpants Gnomes were more capable of concocting a more flawed scheme because “the job” lacked any description, never mind the lack of money to cover UT.
So…
Having official resident status in Texas was months away yet the mini-class I took with Khier (an amazing Algerian matchmaking polyglot educated at the Sorbonne) whetted my appetite for French. Gambling on their lax investigative skills, I enrolled in French 1 at Austin Community College’s Rio Grande campus. Good thing I got the Texas ID when Doc made me, it was all the proof that its administration wanted.
For the next six weeks of Summer, I had to be in class at 8 AM every weekday until 1030-11 AM. Getting to complete what GDW deprived me of compensated for the lack of sleep I would suffer from. The teacher who taught the class was a prize too! Marc Prevost. An actual French person but he’s a story for another day, especially when I contact him.
I will confess to my other motivation on returning to school. It was a strategy for meeting women. In those pre-Facebook, Match.com, Craigslist days, the same tactics people used for the past few decades were the only decent means. I figured there would be common interests to break the ice. It was a more effective strategy than the overrated party-bar scene and less embarrassing than ballroom dancing.
On the first day of class, I met an attractive lady to my left. Her name was Sonia and we hit it off pretty well because she shared my desire to learn the language. Most people are present to achieve the three to five hours with a passing grade. Obviously, I guessed Sonia was Mexican due to her complexion and surname. Wrong! Salvadoran. She was cool with it. Thinking she was Mexican was a common assumption in Texas she heard all her life.
After Mr. Prevost dismissed the class, Sonia and I hitched the bus back North to carry on a conversation we started earlier. I remember how she just lit up while talking to me, especially with the F bomb about her recent past. Any romantic aspirations I had for Sonia evaporated on the trip and I didn’t mind. (Not like I was on the prowl every waking minute.) She made me happy in many ways: I met a person who would take French 1 seriously; she shared my passion for the language; she was closer to my age than the average ACC student, thus some things I mentioned weren’t alien or ancient history; and she proved that making new friends in Austin was easier than the Midwest. Turned out Sonia was relatively new to Austin too; her boyfriend Charles recently convinced her to leave Houston, earn her diploma and live with him.
The Summer of 1994 was off to a great start! We both earned A’s from Mr. Prevost and occasionally hung out at Sixth Street, Les Amis Cafe or the apartment. When Fall came, Sonia and I were classmates again in Mr. Prevost’s French 2 in addition to all our future social gatherings.
Then she got accepted to UT. I envied her, in a good way. The university decided my degree from Marquette was enough so I’ve never bothered again. Matters with Apple went in my favor by mid-1995 anyway. As for Sonia, she carried on and achieved at least one degree in Latin American Studies. Don’t pin me to it! I need to ask her for the specifics. I know she pursued more French so she has at least a minor in it and she became fluent long before she married Philippe, a French guy.
The Austin years went on and I feel we became very good friends. We helped each other out in numerous ways. I think she’s done way more for me though, especially when she had this Quixotic goal to help me get married in five years. Oddly, I don’t recall asking for any further advice beyond landing the first date. Somara is grateful Sonia had no success too. I always appreciated the intention.
To me, Sonia became and is the younger, fashion savvy, wiser sister I wish I had growing up; like Anna Paquin in She’s All That or probably what Miranda Cosgrove was typecast in before iCarly. Hence, it’s why I call her ma petite soeur. From 1994-97, she was more often the voice of reason, optimism and bravery during my first tour in Austin. Good thing she also knew how to drive stick. I almost returned my VW if it weren’t for her refresher course on a Saturday morning in Hyde Park. Sonia was always a face of Austin I made sure my visiting friends met during their stays: Jose, Kami and Cindy said she rocked.
I could go on and on over how I consider Sonia a part of my family. But this entry is pushing well over 1000 words. There’s just no way I can be succinct about her. Sonia is an amazing person and I won the lottery the day I met her 15 years ago in a French class. I hope to continue being her loyal, awkward grand frere for another 1500 years.
Sonia does have a home page via Mobile Me (aka .Mac), I’ll see if she gives me permission to have a link to it from the Friends of the Picayune section.