the Bum and the Bard

I wrote this last night, and then Blogger waged a war against me. So, here, NOCH EINMAL....

I, having finished my homework before midnight, now have some time to blog about randomness. This is indeed a rare, rare occurance.
My mouse is acting up, I can't figure out how to work my printer, and my lights occasionally flicker. Having no other logical explanation, I am forced to believe that there is a poltergeist living in my room with me. A logical explanation would of course be that I am just jinxing every electronic machine I own, but I refuse to believe that the curse followed me to Europe. Here, I will be able to cook, clean, and operate basic machinery of the 21st century.
The mouse thing is really obnoxious though. I'm resisting the urge to throw it across the room right now.
Anyway, I haven't been blogging much lately because nothing terribly exciting has been going on around here. I've been doing a lot of sleeping, which has led to a lot of exciting dreams but not much else. Sleeping too much is a sign of depression, but I really think I am an exception to this rule. Hell hath no fury like a Becca on little sleep. And by little sleep, I mean less than 10 hours.
The problem is that my mornings are always free, except for Wednesdays I have class at 10 and THAT course hasn't even started yet. Monday I begin at 12, Thursday I begin at 4, and those are the only days I even have class. I have 4 days of the week to be an absolute bum. I am totally not used to this.
Part of this I will attribute to my American-ness. Maryia and I had a talk about how Americans are continually keeping themselves busy and are always working. I believe it, but I never thought that I was of that mindset. I'm a huge fan of procrastination and spending half the day in my pajamas. I've never really considered myself a very driven student and at U of M, I go to the library partially because it's a social opportunity. There. I said what no one else is willing to admit.
But I guess I am. I guess I enjoy being busy. I enjoy being productive. I enjoy holding an end result in my hands, whether it be a paycheck or an essay.
My roommates wake up at the crack of dawn and are off to school, the gym, work, saving the planet and if they're not, they're cleaning. I usually crawl out of my room sometime around 1. They all smile and say good morning, but all I can do is laugh. I bet they think I'm nocturnal, lazy, or both. I'm Becca, the American Bum.
I need a hobby. Or a boyfriend. Or to train for a triathalon. Or a JOB.
Yes. The most logical answer of course.
But...uh...where do you start when you're in a foreign country and are only half-fluent?
I've got the world's weirdest schedule (which includes class until 8 two nights a week...) which isn't helping at all. I don't know what I want to do or what I can do. In the US, I would never have this problem, because I'd be way too picky about it. I'd want one type of job and then I'd go threaten people until I got it. Here, I am totally out of my element. It's stressing me out and I know it's stressing my parents out.
At this point, the money would be nice, but the feeling of self-worth would probably be even more exciting. My first step will be talking to Ulli and other AYFers. So, enough complaining. I am just giving myself premature grey hairs right now.

Things aren't terribly exciting these days. I guess for awhile I got so used to running off to foreign cities that now I'm bored sitting around here.
Choir is wonderous. We have a practice weekend coming up where we rent out two houses in the Schwarzwald for the weekend to practice, eat, practice, eat, party, practice, eat. I happen to be a fan of all three, so I am looking forward to this lil choir retreat.
I had my voice check with the director, where I just went in and sang a bunch of warm-ups. (I did this after inhaling a gigantic dinner, too) Her only concern is about how well I pronounce the German, which I guess is legitimate. I haven't been raised around umlauts. She said the same thing to Ben. Well, lady, I will show YOU how well I can sing "erbarme mich" 75 times in a row.
And I will do it with good posture and dynamics. HA!
Friday night I went to go see Othello in German, which was required for my theater class, but I would have been glad to do on my own. I personally think Othello is highly underrated. I find Iago amazing. Despicable, but amazing and my favorite sociopath in literature.
Oh, contemporary European theater...
There were times that I was very confused, but it was like a puzzle to figure out. Theater is art and art needs motivation. It also was loaded with symbolism, which I found fascinating. I always find symbolism fascinating. I'm a fan of secrets.
I've also had to hear my peers whining and bitching about Shakespeare, which I don't agree with at all. We have a copy with both the original English and German in it and I've heard numerous people say that the German is easier to read, just because the English is so difficult.
I have patience with very few things, but literature is one of them. And Shakespeare deserves my time. Figuring out a line of his is like solving an equation, but one with words is so much more inviting than numbers. Instead of some line up of cold Arabic numerals, you get a smooth line of poetry that contributes to a larger whole. And all in iambic pentameter, no less!
I find it genius. So do millions of people throughout the centuries. So, forgive me if I momentariy zone you out. You can do the same with me when I complain about video games.
After the play we went to Haendelstrasse to some party in Jan's WG, where I spent the majority of the night dancing...in heels.
Jan and I often have dance-offs, which really are a joke because he's far more talented than I am. The salt in the wound came when he put on Footloose and won. A German? Better with Kenny Loggins? Oh, the SHAME.
I think I beat him on Halloween with Backstreet Boys, though. My 13-year-old self resurfaced. The shortness of my skirt may have helped somewhat. (I'm going to skip Halloween because it wasn't anything extraordinary. We just dressed up and went to StuSie bar and showed the Germans how to properly celebrate)
Anyway, at Jan's the dance floor consisted of 2 very funny Spanish girls, 1 Craig (he showed up out of nowhere), 1 Jan, 1 Becca, a handful of drunk American, and sulking soccer players in the corner. It was quite a scene.
I think my dancing abilities (or lack thereof) are because I'm just not scared of what anyone else thinks. I was wearing heel and dress pants but I went out there, messed up my hair and sang along to "Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy". I don't care how ridiculous that song is. It is still a guilty pleasure, and I was overjoyed to hear it being played in Germany.

My Aunt Shirley shipped me a box with 6 bags of Cheetos, SpongeBob Mac & Cheese, and a really cute sweater. I was the envy of all in Theater class. I was ELATED. Oh man.
The only problem is now that's all I want to eat. I am constantly craving orange American food. I made my roommates try mac & cheese, even though they failed to see what all the fuss was about. I told them that every 5-year-old in America would be outraged.
Speaking of roommates...
Hallo Christoph. Alles klar?

I am going to go search for symbolism in my Cheetos as I eat them in bed.