Da, dadada, Da, dadada

There's some sort of tribal African techno happening outside my window on the street below. Oh, Saturday nights. I'm pretty sure this song has more cowbell, which almost makes it acceptable. At 1:44 am, though, it's going to take a little bit more to convince me.

Artsy Fartsy

I think in order to succeed at my job, I am going too have find my inner weirdo. It's going to take some digging, I think, since I'm been suppressing her for so long.

Come to think of it, I kind of miss her.

Say what?

There are some words in German that are just to similar to use comfortably. For instance, I never say "brush" because it is so similar to "breast" that my American mouth can't find a practical difference. The words for "six" and "sex" are also too close for comfort; however, one simply cannot avoid saying "six" in everyday life. Today my waitress was shocked at what I requested back when I paid my bill for tea. Oh, cross-cultural living.

In other news, I think I am only now beginning to realize the endless possibilities that exist for me in a land where crazy-looking clothes are completely socially acceptable.