Must. Work. On. Spanish

So, once upon a time, there was a girl (we'll call her Becca...and her spanish name became "Beca"...pronounced "bey-kah") who entered college, terrified of the foreign language requirement. Despite taking 2 years of spanish in high school, traveling to Guatemala, and growing up in Texas, she still viewed the foreign language requirement (that each student must reach the "literature level") as a very daunting and scary task.

She took the Wake Forest placement test and ended up in a level that would require three semesters of study. Three very difficult, class-every-day, semesters.

Semester 1 was interesting. Professor Jesus Pico-Argel was a very sweet, enthusiastic little man, who could barely contain himself when talking about his homeland of Columbia. And he tried his hardest to make class fun. Hard...but fun. Becca drew the line though when he requested that his students sing Shakira songs in front of whole class. So embarassing, and definitely not easy.

Semester 2 was nice. Professor Carlos Valencia (pronounced Carlos ValenTHia) was the opposite of Professor Pico. He was tall and dreamy. And yes, dreamy is the appropriate word. Every girl at Wake Forest knew of his existence and every girl who took spanish wanted in his class. There is a legend (scratch that - it is a true story) that goes something like this: An intelligent female junior got drunk one night, went home to her apartment mad at her boyfriend, and in her drunken stupor...emailed dreamy Carlos...to tell him how dreamy he was. She realized it the next morning and spent the rest of the semester going to class with a beet red face and a complete inability to look at him. (No - this was not Becca. It was Becca's class partner, whom she felt terribly sorry for!)

Semester 3 was tough but short because it was in the summer. Luckily, Becca felt as though she was in familiar territory because the class was taught by Pico again! She suffered through every day and at the end of the class was able to speak, read, and write fluently enough to get an A and fulfill the entirety of the foreign language requirement.

That was before her sophomore year in college.

Seven years later, she has not spoken, read, or written a darn thing in spanish and doesn't remember much more than the absolute basics. Unfortunately, this is not good since she is about to move to a city where it is very helpful to know spanish! Gasp! What would Carlos think?!? The horror!

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Alright, I'm done speaking about myself in the third person. Seriously, I have GOT to re-learn spanish.