The Cosmic Connection

I was in Notting Hill today, hoping to find a Bill Bryson book for under £1, when a man asked me for the time. After a struggle with my jacket, I looked at my watch and said, "It's 1:45." The man smiled and thanked me. I started walking and he followed. "It's such a horrible day today," he chimed. With the freezing wind blowing in my face and the ominous clouds above me, I concurred.

Then, the weird started. He looked at me with his eyes bulging out. "Your aura is green. You have a lot of uncertainty in your life right now." Suddenly, he grabbed my left hand and began to touch my fingers. A bit shocked, I just stood there.
"You are a very sensitive person. Did you play the piano when you were younger?" "Hmm... yes."
"You like to travel, don't you?"
With an eyebrow raised, I responded with a head nod for yes.
"Are you a writer? You should be a writer and write about your travels. Or you should write a play." At this moment, I was debating if I should be running, screaming or staying to hear more. I chose the latter.
"And in your previous life, you were a ballerina." I let out a chuckle here. Then, I took back possession of my hand.
I looked at him and he looked at me. "Things happen for a reason. We were suppose to meet today," he said.
Being the quick-minded person that I am (haha), I gave the "oh crap I'm late" look, then quickly got out of there.

The whole experience was a bit trippy. All he did was touch my fingertips and got all that information about me. I can't decide if he's my new stalker or if he should open his own "psychic friends network."

Slovenia, Slovenia, Slovenia, Slovenia

Just returned from: Ljubljana, Slovenia
This is me interviewing me. (I couldn't get anyone else to do the job. I wonder why?)

What made you decide to go to Slovenia?
I opened up easyJet's list in the back of the magazine one day and saw Ljubljana. I couldn't for the life of me figure out how to say it. So, what better way than to learn than to go to the city itself. And for your information, it's lub-ble-ya-na.

Any interesting stories while over there?
For a while, I didn't think I was going to make it to Slovenia. While boarding my flight, I (and the rest of the plane) committed a federal crime by interacting with passengers from a diverted plane from Amsterdam. To make a long story short, we boarded the plane, then was told we had to get off the plane, went back inside the terminal and was re-screened by security because we could've met one of the Amsterdam people and exchange "something." Two hours after the scheduled departure, the plane finally took off. I ended up sitting next to 4 blokes on their stag (bachelor) weekend and they bought me and 2 other girls drinks. Needless to say, that was one of the quickest 2 hour flights I've ever had. (But I think I need to thank the 2 cranberry vodkas for that one.)

I see. So you're an alcoholic again. [Nodding the head in disappointment.] Nothing new. Anything else?
[While shooting the evil eye.] Hey! I take offense to that comment.
Hmm... I accidentally took the wrong bus and ended up waiting in some small village for an hour. With nothing better to do, I decided to roam around, taking pictures of trees. One local guy saw what I was doing, walked up to me and asked in Japanese 写真を撮りますか。 (take a picture?) Naturally, I responded with いいえ。大丈夫。(No, it's ok.) In a nutshell, I had a conversation with a Slovenian man in some remote village in Slovenia in Japanese and we ended up talking about East Los Angeles. He knew street names and locations of places that only locals would know. It was a bit scary.

Weird...
I KNOW! [As the voice goes one octave up.]

Did you pick up the language?
The only thing I can say in Slovenian is hvala ti (thank you) and I probably butchered the pronunciation. Oops... I do know how to say goodbye in Slovenian. It's ciao which sounds an awful lot like Italian. When in Slovenia, right? I just like saying Slovenia. Slovenia. Slovenia. Slovenia. Ok, I'm done.

[An eyeroll.] Hmmm... sure. If you say so. Where did you stay?
I stayed in a jail cell. Very comfortable. But my cell mate had really stinky feet. [Overtly excited.]

I won't ask. [Another eyeroll.] Final thoughts?
Slovenia. Slovenia. Slovenia. Slovenia. Did I mention I like saying Slovenia? It's not as fun as Ljubljana. Ljubljana. Ljubljana. Ljubljana. It just doesn't have the same effect.

Yeah, you need help. [More head shaking in disappointment.]
Hvala ti. [With a smile.]

The Token American

I stumbled upon BBC’s News Styleguide at work today. In this so-called "Styleguide", there’s a section for Americanisms which I found particularly enlightening. Here’s an excerpt:

“American speech patterns on the BBC drive some people to distraction. Adding unnecessary prepositions to verbs is guaranteed to cause apoplexy in some households. Problems which were once faced are now faced up to. In North America, people meet with other people. Everywhere else they meet them. British people keep a promise rather than deliver on it.”

I never knew American English can cause fits of anger and rage. But wait… it gets better:

“Many American words and expressions have impact and vigour, but use them with discrimination or your audience may become a tad irritated.”

Basically, the BBC is telling me that my English makes people irate and annoyed. No wonder why all the Aussies and Brits pick on me.

As a compromise, I will now put aside my beloved “David Hasselhoff saved my life” t-shirt and will replace it with a shirt that says either “Don’t talk to me. I’m American and my English will piss you off!” or "I speak American English so piss off!"

I can't really decide.

Lessons From Deutschland

Just returned from: Hamburg, Germany

Here's three things I've learned about Germany:

• It is perfectly acceptable to have a pint of beer at 9am on a Sunday morning. It is also perfectly acceptable for men to dress up like women while enjoying their pints of beer at 9am on a Sunday morning.

• "Es ist mir Wurst" or "It's sausage to me." Bratwursts, currywursts, frankfurters... I'm all wurst-out. My heart thanks me for it. (And no, the only hamburgers you can find in Hamburg is at McDonalds.)

• Long live the Hoff! Where else in the world can David Hasselhoff of Knight Rider fame be a singer and a national hero but in Germany?