what dreams are made of

I've lived in some diverse places.. Southern California.. Provo, Utah.. and I've learned some cool things.

Fluent German.

Yeah. I was at the Weinerschnitzel one night. Sat down, said, "Heil. Meinen drinksterbergen Fuhrgen Weinershnutz." Out of the blue, like magic, I had this mug of draught beer and all these drunken, incredibly built German men (Germen) in leiderhosen all around dancing, on the.. table.. and .. down the.. flanks (imagine like 5 aisles).

It was a dream, yeah. The fluency came in that dream. Very useful. Although, it was a weird start to the day.

Made me disappointed with reality.

REALITY. Real German speakers at BYU (and I mean the residents at the FLSR German house) wear their jeans a little too high, with striped turtlenecks and white clunky running shoes. Terrible, terrible.

I find it hard to go on formal dates and get to know guys at the same time. It's like a really intimidating and complicated improv game. The whole time you're trying to be funny, but there are limits, because you don't really know the guy, or what will offend him, or what will weird him out, so the rules are very specific and everything must be done tactfully and deliberately. Like you don't talk about yourself in conversations; you talk about what you have in common. You have to walk a little slower so he can get all the doors for you.

Unless you don't really like him, in which case you race for the door every time. Like, "I open doors for myself, on purpose, because I don't need you and, if you're classy, to turn you off."

SPEAKING OF TURN-OFFS-- RUNNING SHOES WORN WITH JEANS

I'm not one to suggest looking the worst you can on just any occasion, but if someone picks you up wearing that combination, the face has got to go. No mascara, no shaving, and NO DEODORANT.