Well, it’s official.  I’m French.  Even the French government thinks so. emoticon 

Yes, today my "carte d’identité" arrived in the mail. This is the final step in my ascendancy to Froghood. Now I can eat snails and chocolate bread without feeling even a twinge of guilt. It’s my national food. Pretty soon I’ll be speaking Frog and everything.  I’m on my way, baby!

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Cara, on the other hand.. isn’t so lucky. We’ve been twice now to the local Préfecture (the only place where all "government bureaucracy" is allowed to be done) so she can start the paperwork for her Carte de séjour (residence permit), but each time they were closed.  Why?  Ah.. good question.  See my next post. You’re going to love it. Picture a union strike — Corsican style.