Memories

Moving into the new house, Andy and I jumping up and down as my mother announces her pregnancy. Meghan being born, going to the hospital and getting a Punky Brewster doll.

Family vacations in Florida, fighting with my siblings, eating Pizza Hut pizza and watching lifetime movies. Reading on the terrace enjoying the breeze. Joking with Meghan about tiddleywinks.

Summers at Nipigon, riding bikes, swimming, playing sega, watching old movies, singing at Mr. Egan's, joking around with the Baisch's, drinking milkshakes from Yeck's, movie nights. Drinking with Katie around the bonfire. Playing that Mickey dice game. Little Meghan picking berries. Fighting with Andy (again). Visiting my grandparents, playing 29 black jack with papa, playing trivia games with grandma, Frank Sinatra in the background.

Taking a trip with my mother to Chicago. Riding the train, walking around such a big city (for a little girl), a boat ride. Reading the Enquirer and laughing over its contents. Eating. "That man has a problem."

That first summer in Germany, using the language for the first time. Eating bakery-made bread, taking long walks, partying with new friends. Taking a train to Stuttgart and getting lost. Finding myself in the process.

Meeting the Hagenloch's. Sitting on the couch across from Anke, listening to her talk about life in Germany. Meeting Jenna, playing a game, trying to get her to speak German with me. Treating Luca like an annoying brother. Ana's birth. Being in the hospital the day after she was born. Holding her. Losing my car in the parking lot.

Meeting those German women at the beach, become friends with one of them, visiting them back in Germany. Watching Til Schweiger films and drinking Fraunbier.

A year abroad in Salzburg, coming into my own, beating my anxiety, become more confident in who I am. Traveling the world, meeting new people. Feeling free. Coming home, seeing my family again after so long, getting used to life back in the US.

Leaving again. Wishing I could take everyone with me.

Switzerland: A Short Story

It's morning, my bags are packed. My mother drives me to the airport. We have lunch. We've say our goodbyes. I'm going on the plane, on my way to Switzerland. My mother tells me I don't have to go. But I must. I get on the plane and wave, thinking about what is to come. As my mother cries in her car I sit and admire the in flight entertainment and contemplate my future like the naive 18-year-old that I am. I watch movies and eat bad plane food. I land in Amsterdam and then take a plane to Milan. The woman next to me clings to her husband and finds it difficult to contemplate that I, as a young woman, am brave enough to travel alone. I'm not brave, I think to myself. I'm a fool. I get to Milan and look around. There is no bus waiting for me. I find a strange looking Italian cab driver that doesn't speak German or Spanish or even English. I get in and fear the worst. Exhausted and frightened, I take advantage of the next stop that the driver makes. I flee as the man screams at me in Italian. Where the hell am I? No one can tell me. Those that claim to speak English cannot, and my low-level of proficiency in Spanish is not getting me very far. I find my way back to the airport. I get on the correct bus and cry. A man hands me his cell phone and I call Franklin College Switzerland. I will be late, I tell them. I cry and wonder what the hell I'm doing here. I get to the station in Switzerland. I am taken to a youth hostel. The beauty of Lugano is lost on my 18-year-old frightened self. I get locked in the youth hostel and scream for help. I start to cry. I am tired, lonely, and scared. I don't want this. I don't want to go to university in a foreign country where I don't speak the language. I don't want to study German in an Italian context. This doesn't make sense. My life doesn't make any sense. What the fuck am I doing here? Someone hears my screams and unlocks the door. I go to the office and ask to use the phone. I call my mother. She books a flight home for me immediately.

I go back to the hostel. Other students arrive and we chat. I brush my teeth and hear my stomach rumble. I haven't eaten more than 100 calories worth of food in the last 48 hours. I am numb. I make polite conversation with the other students and nervously fall asleep. I get up the next morning and take a train to a bus, a bus to plane, a plane to another plane, and arrive in Amsterdam. My next flight is delayed for 8 hours. I buy Anne Frank collectors stamps and sit next to a German family and try to explain to them why our flight is delayed. On the flight back home I contemplate my future. I wonder what I thought I was doing. I wonder what the hell I thought I was trying to prove. The plane lands in Detroit. My parents pick me up. I get home and try to comprehend the situation. I let said situation influence my decisions for years afterword. I fall apart.

California Girls ;-)

Tomorrow a new adventure begins: Molly goes LA. And Molly "be" excited. Wow, my English is getting really good, isn't it? I'm currently packing, making sure that the hot pink bikini, chocolate and cigarettes are dabei. Just the necessities, you know. And naturally a bit of reading material. Austrian authors will be taking up space in my suitcase this time. It's crunch time for master's students right now, and I need to finish reading books about women and family before I write my master's exams. Not complaining at all... I'm definitely a Germanistik geek. It's something I wouldn't have expected just a year ago, back when the language and culture were the only things that interested me. Then I started to see feminism (or lack thereof) In nearly every German or Austrian work I read and suddenly I was loving it! Gender roles in German literature are fascinating.

Time for some iced coffee and packing. Ich freue mich schon so sehr! ;-)

I don't care what people say, Denglisch ist eine Sprache!

Molly-le