The beach: sunburn and sand in my food, spats with my sister and endless tv programs that numbed every mind around me and made it impossible for me to read in peace, and enough chocolate to kill a small zebra. Well, I guess it wasn't SO bad.

I wrote an essay sometime in February about the place I most wanted to be: on the front porch of the beach house that my family rents every year in Cherry Grove.

We are heading to the beach on Sunday.

The owners have remodeled. The front porch is no more.

Bitches and hoes.

Sunburn and cold coffee, tornado warnings and periodic coughing fits.

Welcome to my life.

Went job-hunting. Will probably be a waitress at local bar-b-q restaurant. Still shuddering at the terrible spelling and abrupt, utter American-ness of that word ( Read more... )

I now officially sound like a phone-sex hotline transsexual. Thank you, nasty head cold for your fabulous side effects ( Read more... )

hmm. America is definitely different from Germany.

Tomorrow. At officially 15:15 Eastern I will be on American soil.

Scary thought.

Woohoo, Whirlwind Europe tour was a success. Aside from the mass quantities of money I spent that I shouldn't have...
Few more days, I'm on the road again. Or rather, on the road on the other side of the Atlantic again.
Mer.

I am in Venice and a-loving it. Nowhere else I would rather be.

Paris, Venice, Pisa and Rome, here I come!