I once was a writer...

Dear Santa, I hate being a housewife. I do. I really, really do. And I realize how unorthodox it is to begin a "Dear Santa" letter with a statement of hatred, but I just need for you to understand how important my first world problems  are, and thus help me by sending me a maid for Christmas . If you're going to send THIS maid, make sure you let me know so that I can send Honey  far, far away from home during her working hours! Santa, I hate being a housewife. I love Honey, though he has not yet made me his wife, so maybe I am not technically a house wife - perhaps next year I will ask for a big rock on my ring finger. But look, Santa, look at how pressing this maid issue is: I need a maid more than I need to be legally married! Santa, God blessed -and simultaneously cursed- me with great attention to detail. Which means that a task (like washing dishes or folding laundry) that would take the average housewife 15 to 20 minutes, takes me 30 to 40 minutes. Becau...

There are so many things wrong with that phrase. The first one being, I am not a jelly-filled doughnut, although I do eat so many of them so often, I might as well be. Also, I am more than three hours away from Berlin, so if I were to be some sort of German I would be a Kieler, not a Berliner. And no, "Kieler" is not funny, and no, it does not sound like "Killer". Long and short vowels are there for a reason. In addition to the previously stated, I would never say "Ick", like the famous person said it, nor would I say "Ish", like the foreigners say it. I would use a perfect "Ich", thus actually reinforcing my point: I am a German. I found this out as I was trying to make a point in two different classes last week. In the first class, American 20th Century Short Fiction , I was supporting my claim that there is a European-settler-vs-Indigenous-People trend in Hemingway's "Indian Camp". I mentioned how the doctor, Nick...

On my way back home one day last week, my mom told me a very sad story: a friend of hers from highschool, one of her very best friends, was going to go through her second chemotherapy session on that very moment - breast cancer. Terrible news, and scary, too, because it could have been my mom. Or me. So I informed Honey that I would not be going home for lunch, and changed my plans and my schedule - something that the very German me does not do easily. I decided I would help her. Instead of going home, I went to the hairdresser and cut 27 cm (a little over 10 in) of hair. That was my hair. I had let it grow out for a little over a year. I cut off 27 cm! That's a little over 10 inches in American. A friend of mine had recently told me about Locks of Love , a non-profit organization that helps people with hair-situations due to chemo. I looked into a similar possibility in Germany and upon finding none, decided I would mail my hair to the LOL people. I was going to ma...

A few days ago, we were in class discussing issues of culture and cultural studies (just as a side note, I am so German now, that I can't help but automatically type Kultur - großgeschrieben und alles!). You need to understand that I find myself in Germany, surrounded by 12 other Germans (girls in this case, plus the male teacher), and of course the most obvious examples in trying to define and explain culture come from German culture. And wouldn't you know it: Even the Germans consider their punctuality a German characteristic of their German culture! I like German honesty. I mean, I would never describe me and my people as "unpunctual", although we most definitely are. So there we were, talking about how the Germans are punctual and how that defines them because the Germans are punctual and punctuality is important and that important characteristic defines them and their culture because punctuality is a trait that shapes a cultural habit which in turn also makes ...