Summer of my German Exchange Student
Elisabeth doesn't get it, but I think it's pretty hilarious. Then again, amusing myself has always been a particular talent of mine.
Anyway, things are wrapping up here today and I’m actually pretty bummed about it. I wasn’t crazy about the class and I didn’t really like most of the students, but the country is beautiful, I can now speak marginal Finnish but only in the singular, and Elisabeth rules. It was incredibly nice to have a friend over here, especially one who wasn't taking sides in Cold War II: Even Lamer Than Last Time. And I didn't have to go out and drink with people I don't like. She’s not a big partier, either. Well, she used to be, but she gave that up after an incident involving a Baldwin brother. I’ve been sworn to secrecy.
A few more really rich things have happened since then. Not the least of which is, I ‘passed’ my test! Well, I passed it enough, anyway. I’ll get my certificate this afternoon and then I’ll forget that that whole monikko case thing every happened. There are a few things that I will not forget.
There was an awesome thunderstorm last night. Big noise, big lightning. Scared the bejeezus out of some of the Continental pansies. Apparently, the welfare state not only makes you lazy, it makes you shriek like third grade girls. The whole thing made me homesick for Dallas. The storm wasn’t as good, but it was enough to rattle the window panes and make the lights flicker. Plus, there was that whole ozone-meets-fresh-rain-meets-dirt smell and it all reminded me of Texas.
Savonlinna Day was this week! There were some lukewarm festivities, but those are not nearly as important as the World Championship Lörtsy Eating Competition. I didn’t even have to make that up. You compete against time to see who can eat lörtsy the fastest. A lörtsy is a Savonlinna delicacy that’s kind of like a deep-fried mincemeat quesadilla. I’ve tried the apple kind and it’s like if somebody made a pita out of a donut and filled it with apple strudel. It was awesome. And it’s also kind of like speed-eating a brick. Some of our students made it to the finals, so I’ll be sure and scare up some of those pictures.
Also, there was almost a riot in the laundry room tonight. The Western Front had signed up for the time slots before me. The Western Front being, of course, the opposite of the Iron Curtain Cadre, and composed mostly of Really Cool Kids: France, Belgium, Spain, Italy, England, and a rogue Bulgarian. Anyway, this one French chick abused the laundry system, eating into my allotted time. If this were an isolated incident, I would have let it slide. I HAVE let it slide for three weeks. But they pushed me too far. They cut in line in the cafeteria and they smoke nasty cigarettes and they’re rude to me and they make fun of the Chinese kid.
French Chick: Why are you looking at me like that?
Me: Because I have the washer starting twenty minutes ago.
FC: Is not on the schedule.
Me: Really? Wait, no, here it is. My name, my room number. You’re not even on the paper.
FC: Genevieve say-
Me: I don’t care. I do not care. I just want to get my laundry done.
FC: Fine. I go. I hurry.
Me: The Messiah called. He said he’d be here before you finished this.
FC: I do not understand what-
Me: Just get your stuff out of the washer already. Please.
45 minutes later, and French Chick is officially using up my drier time, too. I waited another five minutes, and then I pulled out all her fancy clothes and piled them on top of the drier in one wrinkly heap of isolationist glory. Five minutes later, enter French chick.
Me: Sorry, your stuff was still in the drier. I had to take it out.
FC: What? Oh my GOD!
(to be fair, if my underwear looked like that, I’d be appalled, too)
Me: There was somebody scheduled after me and I didn’t want to use up any of their time.
FC: Why is this?
Me: I needed the drier.
FC: You can’t just-
Me: Sweetpea, I’m sorry, but it was my turn and you were late.
FC: This is-
Me: It was my turn and you were late. I’m sure you can sign up for a slot tomorrow. You know, on the sheet. I’m sorry I have to hurry. I think it’s rude to keep people waiting for the machines.
Every little moral victory counts.
Up Next: putting the ‘hel’ back in Helsinki! My folks are coming to visit Scandinavia for the first time, even though my Dad’s entire family is from here. I’m going to travel with them for a bit. The pros: my parents are able and willing to pay for things that I usually forego, like breakfast and two-ply toilet paper. The con: my parents are going to be there. Crap.
But, good news, my summer gen fic is in! And on time! And, also, Chapter 6 is almost ready for Beta. It got put on hold while I wrote summer gen, which I am also anxious about because it’s for a specific person and I feel like if I fail to make them happy, I’ve completely blown it anyway. *facepalm*
Anyway, things are wrapping up here today and I’m actually pretty bummed about it. I wasn’t crazy about the class and I didn’t really like most of the students, but the country is beautiful, I can now speak marginal Finnish but only in the singular, and Elisabeth rules. It was incredibly nice to have a friend over here, especially one who wasn't taking sides in Cold War II: Even Lamer Than Last Time. And I didn't have to go out and drink with people I don't like. She’s not a big partier, either. Well, she used to be, but she gave that up after an incident involving a Baldwin brother. I’ve been sworn to secrecy.
A few more really rich things have happened since then. Not the least of which is, I ‘passed’ my test! Well, I passed it enough, anyway. I’ll get my certificate this afternoon and then I’ll forget that that whole monikko case thing every happened. There are a few things that I will not forget.
There was an awesome thunderstorm last night. Big noise, big lightning. Scared the bejeezus out of some of the Continental pansies. Apparently, the welfare state not only makes you lazy, it makes you shriek like third grade girls. The whole thing made me homesick for Dallas. The storm wasn’t as good, but it was enough to rattle the window panes and make the lights flicker. Plus, there was that whole ozone-meets-fresh-rain-meets-dirt smell and it all reminded me of Texas.
Savonlinna Day was this week! There were some lukewarm festivities, but those are not nearly as important as the World Championship Lörtsy Eating Competition. I didn’t even have to make that up. You compete against time to see who can eat lörtsy the fastest. A lörtsy is a Savonlinna delicacy that’s kind of like a deep-fried mincemeat quesadilla. I’ve tried the apple kind and it’s like if somebody made a pita out of a donut and filled it with apple strudel. It was awesome. And it’s also kind of like speed-eating a brick. Some of our students made it to the finals, so I’ll be sure and scare up some of those pictures.
Also, there was almost a riot in the laundry room tonight. The Western Front had signed up for the time slots before me. The Western Front being, of course, the opposite of the Iron Curtain Cadre, and composed mostly of Really Cool Kids: France, Belgium, Spain, Italy, England, and a rogue Bulgarian. Anyway, this one French chick abused the laundry system, eating into my allotted time. If this were an isolated incident, I would have let it slide. I HAVE let it slide for three weeks. But they pushed me too far. They cut in line in the cafeteria and they smoke nasty cigarettes and they’re rude to me and they make fun of the Chinese kid.
French Chick: Why are you looking at me like that?
Me: Because I have the washer starting twenty minutes ago.
FC: Is not on the schedule.
Me: Really? Wait, no, here it is. My name, my room number. You’re not even on the paper.
FC: Genevieve say-
Me: I don’t care. I do not care. I just want to get my laundry done.
FC: Fine. I go. I hurry.
Me: The Messiah called. He said he’d be here before you finished this.
FC: I do not understand what-
Me: Just get your stuff out of the washer already. Please.
45 minutes later, and French Chick is officially using up my drier time, too. I waited another five minutes, and then I pulled out all her fancy clothes and piled them on top of the drier in one wrinkly heap of isolationist glory. Five minutes later, enter French chick.
Me: Sorry, your stuff was still in the drier. I had to take it out.
FC: What? Oh my GOD!
(to be fair, if my underwear looked like that, I’d be appalled, too)
Me: There was somebody scheduled after me and I didn’t want to use up any of their time.
FC: Why is this?
Me: I needed the drier.
FC: You can’t just-
Me: Sweetpea, I’m sorry, but it was my turn and you were late.
FC: This is-
Me: It was my turn and you were late. I’m sure you can sign up for a slot tomorrow. You know, on the sheet. I’m sorry I have to hurry. I think it’s rude to keep people waiting for the machines.
Every little moral victory counts.
Up Next: putting the ‘hel’ back in Helsinki! My folks are coming to visit Scandinavia for the first time, even though my Dad’s entire family is from here. I’m going to travel with them for a bit. The pros: my parents are able and willing to pay for things that I usually forego, like breakfast and two-ply toilet paper. The con: my parents are going to be there. Crap.
But, good news, my summer gen fic is in! And on time! And, also, Chapter 6 is almost ready for Beta. It got put on hold while I wrote summer gen, which I am also anxious about because it’s for a specific person and I feel like if I fail to make them happy, I’ve completely blown it anyway. *facepalm*