If my childhood teddy bear, Garry, owned a passport, it would boast stamps from five continents and over a dozen countries. It would also verify that his name is indeed spelled with two R’s, as I quite enjoyed double consonants in my youth and decided to include that particular quirk Read More…
It’s pouring rain. I’m dressed in green army-themed “fancy dress” (that’s British for costume, go figure) and military face paint is streaking down my face. I’m trudging up a hill through muddy puddles that my California-girl sandals are clearly not designed for. I have three companions. One is wearing a Read More…
Believe it or not, this Francophile has the blues, or as the French would say, “J’ai le cafard” which literally translates to “I have the cockroach.” Yup, I’m finally in France and I’m feeling a little down. Although there are several contributing factors, such as the broken headphones and the Read More…
Anyone who lives in Berkeley knows well the kind of tolerance for hills you need if you’re a runner there. Actually you need a decent tolerance for them just to go to football games, or classes, if you’re an engineer. I spent most of my freshman year on the phone Read More…
The murder was announced early Monday and took place Thursday evening shortly after 8 o’clock. This being a widely anticipated event, the Green Room of the theater was packed to bursting. It was difficult to move an elbow, let alone shake a fist. Most people resorted to the incessant nodding Read More…
Being legal to drink about a year early has certainly changed the focus of my trips to the grocery store. But after about a week here in Edinburgh, the excitement wore off and the jet lag was lingering, thanks to a few nights of alcohol-diluted sleep. I ventured to the Read More…
I’ll admit it, I’m a total Francophile. I’m sure you all have at least one friend or acquaintance like me. Once I chose French as the language I wanted to (try to) learn, I totally dorked out on French culture. By French II, not only had I decided France Read More…
I had been in Europe a week before the homesickness struck. It was swift and sudden, like a jab to the gut or maybe like a punch to the heart. I was sitting on a bench in St. Stephen’s Green, a beautifully landscaped park in the middle of Dublin center. Read More…
“That’s so weird!” I mused, observing my surroundings on Princes Street, a popular tourist destination in Edinburgh, Scotland’s capital city. Exactly what I thought was weird, I can’t recall through my still-jet-lagged haze. Perhaps it was the statue of a lion covered in pennies (or pence as they’re called here), or Read More…
“Do you speak English like them, like the Americans?” my grandmother asked, puzzled, as though she had never contemplated the prospect before. “Yes, Grandma, I speak English like them, I actually study language. I write, too,” I responded, watching as the expression of bewilderment on her face grew into a Read More…