Before I jump into my lovely nonsensical post, may I just rant that we had tomorrow ALL SET UP to sign the subleases for our apartment, but the landlord then reminded me that any new applicants have to FILL OUT PAPERWORK (which really isn’t that extensive, but it requires some parent signatures and a fax machine and $25 and a background check and UGH.)  So perhaps it will get signed by the time I return from Germany.  POOOOOP.

Anyway… guess what, dear kiddos– it snowed.  I was pretty oblivious to this, thanks to my new best friend NyQuil.  By 6 pm last night I was sound asleep and didn’t wake up til my alarm this morning at 7.  That’s 13 hours, for those of you counting at home.  A interesting thing about any sort of precipitation is that I am grossly unprepared.  I do not currently have boots, gloves, a hat, or scarf in my possession.  (That loud bang you just heard was my mother shooting me through the Internet.  I imagine there was also some sort of “BRITTNEYMARIE no wonder you’re sick!” followed by a lot of huffing and complaining to my father.)  At some point I had these things, but I’m not certain where they’ve gone.  NPH gave me some gloves at 713, but I forgot them there on Saturday.  Today it doesn’t really matter since I’m generating enough body heat to run a small-engine vehicle for a short distance, even though the thermometer says my temperature is 96 degrees.  Yep.  I am a cold-blooded freak.

The one thing that does peeve me right is my lack of proper footwear.  Apparently snow has not been deemed cool enough for the hipster population of Iowa City to give a shit, so those in charge have decided to just let it sit there, getting all gray and slushy and killing any hopes of a semi-normal walk to class.  I’ve survived two winters here with only tennis shoes and a prayer getting me place to place, but I should think I’d like to get boots before heading thousands of miles east where I presume there will also be snow.  (Note to self; I also need a phrasebook, clock, watch batteries, and a few more thousands of dollars, should I find some just lying about on the sidewalk.)

OH, my German language buddy just e-mailed me.  Her name is Melanie (I will get along with her, I will get along with her.)  She doesn’t write English that well, but asked how long I’ve been studying German.  Uhh, does a few phrases online count as studying?  I am so royally fucked on this not-knowing-the-language-of-the-place-I’m-living-for-four-months thing.  If in any sort of sticky German situation, the phrases I could hope to throw out include, “I miss you” “I love you”, the numbers 1-3, “the child is fat”, “the car is silver”, and “Good-bye” (though I’ll never be able to say it quite like Heidi Klum a la Project Runway.  Drat.)

“When you study abroad, be careful who you hang out with and what you do over there.” –our professor after discussing the Amanda Knox ordeal.  This is the same professor who just had us watch part of the Jerry Springer show to highlight the difference between indecency and obscenity.  The proximity of Germany to Amsterdam was only recently revealed to me, so really there should be no question as to what I’ll be doing there.