I have been trying very hard to work on my German before my trip. The unfortunate side effect of this is that my German isn’t getting any better, but my English is getting so much weirder. Twice today I literally used German syntax in English (“I want that shirt to buy”. Seriously. I actually said that) and just now I Germanized my verb and said “broughten” instead of “brought”. Now I sound stupid in TWO languages.
Category Archives: Personal Journal
Personal Journal: You Must Pay the Rent…
Sigh.
Herr Funke: Have you filled out your paperwork yet?
Me: We need to discuss how I am paying you.
Herr Funke: I really need the signed lease form so I can hold the apartment. I need your paperwork.
Me: I just want to know how I am getting the money to you. The paperwork means nothing if I can’t actually pay you.
German Guy: SHOW ME YOUR PAPERS!!! I MUST HAVE YOUR PAPERS!!! NOTHING HAPPENS UNLESS YOU HAVE THE RIGHT PAPERS!!!
American Girl: BUT WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT THE MONEY!!! IF I THROW MONEY AT YOU I CAN GET WHAT I WANT!!! I HAVE THE MONEY!!!
Personal Journal: Mietvertrag
Oh look. It’s my rental contract for the Berlin apartment. In German. A legally binding contract. In German. Written by Germans. Who invented bureaucracy. *slams head on keyboard*
PS, my address will be *********** 10119 Berlin Germany
Note: There is actually a “ventilation” clause in the agreement that states I am contractually obligated to air out the apartment regularly.
Personal Journal: Checkpoint Charlie
My husband is watching MacGyver, who just escaped East Berlin in a coffin that turned into a jet ski… or something. It’s weird for me to think that I will be living in an apartment in what used to be East Berlin, and that for the first 20 years of my life I couldn’t have set foot on that street. If I walk 1.8 Km SW of my apartment, I can walk right past Checkpoint Charlie and go to McDonalds (which I wouldn’t, cuz ew. And how hilariously tacky is it that they built a McDonalds at Checkpoint Charlie?) So much history, and so much of it awkward or sad.
Personal Journal: Funk to Funky
My future German landlord, Herr Funke (we know Major Tom’s a junkie…), just emailed me. He called me Frau Messenger. I don’t know why that made me laugh. but it did.