Ich wünschte, ich könnte einfach den Mund halten und glücklich sein

I ditched seminary to go to Janelle's German class. There were so few students and the desks were all scattered about and I laid my eyes upon Mr. Garlick, a tall, slightly intimidating man who constantly spoke very loud German, only stopping to ask if I knew Spanish and my scripture mastery in Spanish.

Despite the absolutely terrifying situation, I adored the class. The people in it, the topics they discussed, the videos they watched filled with umlauts and seemingly random capitalized words, they all filled me with this sense of otherness, that the world exists outside of me and my language and my history. I am so deeply attracted to foreign languages now, even more so than before with my dabbling in ASL and Latin. It's time I learn me some Spanish (and German.)

I stopped by Heather's house today. She opened the door to see me curled up like a lost fetal puppy on Boxing Day (at least, that's how I felt.) We chatted on her stairs, sharing secrets and frustrations and an abundance of awkward stories as we overwhelmed her cat with attention. As she drove me home, her golden Toms sparkling and her wrist brace darkly glowering, I felt as if I had been cheated out of the ability to gain and cherish beautiful best friends. I had three sets of friends in three separate states. How am I supposed to be comfortable enough to go to someone's house, unannounced, with perfect ease. And then, being the intelligent girl I am, I realized I had been able to do just that. It didn't matter that I'd known Heather for less than a year and that our deep chats are far from a common event, she smiled and welcomed my creepy self in.

I really should stop being the definition of creepy.