Jello shots in a foreign land
The jello shots were a hit, and only one of the lime-gin ones just about knocked me out. Note to self: make the day before - it mellows out the stark alcohol taste. Second note to self: use restraint in consumption.
I keep looking for foreign experiences while still here, pretending I've already embarked while still allowed the comfort of quiet, privacy, and my own bed without insects.
First party yesterday was at Lynda's with many of her husband's family and very yummy food. He has 8 siblings, all married with kids, and they all seem very nice. His mother, also in attendance, is originally from Holland - so there's my foreignness. Didn't have a chance to talk to her, but she sounds like such an interesting person. And that she was willing to try a jello shot - I think she's around 80 - speaks highly of her.
Second party, at Sabine's, with Eva's parents visiting from Germany. Their English is fine, but we often lapsed into German (even though two at the table didn't speak German - but they were good sports). Yes, I think just a week or so in Germany, if I had opportunity to be immersed in German, would be sufficient for recapturing my former fluency. Good to know. I thought it was buried deeper or lost.
After we walked out to see the fireworks (we had two displays at 90 degrees from each other) and returned, I was beat for no good reason. "Warum bin ich so muede?" I asked to the walls. Eva's father was startled, asking who had said that, saying it was "perfekt." We laughed at how he underestimated me and my German. There was a time that people did not know I was not German/Swiss (there's a faint French accent to my German, as well as a little Hungarian from a former boyfriend's mother), but that was many years ago. I always go with the easiest language - I'm happy to use German or Spanish, etc., but I won't assume others wish to speak them. I miss many practice opportunities, but I don't want to be like the Chilean woman I met in Mexico City. Her stubborn desire to practice her incomprehensible, tortured English became extremely annoying rather quickly. She sounded like an internet translation all the damn time and would get frustrated when nobody understood her. We were in Mexico, Spanish was a common language to us all, and yet she insisted on Babelfish English. I do not ever want to be like that.
Speaking of buried/lost languages, I've been thinking in Russian lately which has me a little concerned. I always swore that nothing would take me back to that god-forsaken country of backstabbing thieves and institutionalized dehumanized corruption, but it is still the land of Chekhov. If MEEWT does take me to Europe, I may be lured back there again. My many months there in 1992 nearly killed my liver, so I'd need to hang out with teetotaler Russians (hard to find, and then usually tedious at best).
I keep looking for foreign experiences while still here, pretending I've already embarked while still allowed the comfort of quiet, privacy, and my own bed without insects.
First party yesterday was at Lynda's with many of her husband's family and very yummy food. He has 8 siblings, all married with kids, and they all seem very nice. His mother, also in attendance, is originally from Holland - so there's my foreignness. Didn't have a chance to talk to her, but she sounds like such an interesting person. And that she was willing to try a jello shot - I think she's around 80 - speaks highly of her.
Second party, at Sabine's, with Eva's parents visiting from Germany. Their English is fine, but we often lapsed into German (even though two at the table didn't speak German - but they were good sports). Yes, I think just a week or so in Germany, if I had opportunity to be immersed in German, would be sufficient for recapturing my former fluency. Good to know. I thought it was buried deeper or lost.
After we walked out to see the fireworks (we had two displays at 90 degrees from each other) and returned, I was beat for no good reason. "Warum bin ich so muede?" I asked to the walls. Eva's father was startled, asking who had said that, saying it was "perfekt." We laughed at how he underestimated me and my German. There was a time that people did not know I was not German/Swiss (there's a faint French accent to my German, as well as a little Hungarian from a former boyfriend's mother), but that was many years ago. I always go with the easiest language - I'm happy to use German or Spanish, etc., but I won't assume others wish to speak them. I miss many practice opportunities, but I don't want to be like the Chilean woman I met in Mexico City. Her stubborn desire to practice her incomprehensible, tortured English became extremely annoying rather quickly. She sounded like an internet translation all the damn time and would get frustrated when nobody understood her. We were in Mexico, Spanish was a common language to us all, and yet she insisted on Babelfish English. I do not ever want to be like that.
Speaking of buried/lost languages, I've been thinking in Russian lately which has me a little concerned. I always swore that nothing would take me back to that god-forsaken country of backstabbing thieves and institutionalized dehumanized corruption, but it is still the land of Chekhov. If MEEWT does take me to Europe, I may be lured back there again. My many months there in 1992 nearly killed my liver, so I'd need to hang out with teetotaler Russians (hard to find, and then usually tedious at best).
posted by NOLA at 9:19 AM
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