So when we work in small groups in German class, I always get assigned to the group with my teacher in it. I hate being in her group because she's intimidating as all get out. I can't stand making errors in front of teachers, and in most classes where I don't really know what I'm doing, I think of that saying attributed to Abraham Lincoln: "Better to remain silent and be thought a fool than to speak out and remove all doubt." But I know errors are part of learning the language. She acknowledges that. But I really don't think she means it.

So we worked on plural and accusative forms. After sitting in front of her for 5 minutes I'd become intimidated enough to lose any knowledge I might have retained from studying all weekend. Make a mistake, like you're bound to do, and she pulls the choke chain. No, it's not a literal one, but it might as well be. Afterward you're left silent and ashamed, yet it'll be your turn to read a sentence using the correct form of Sein very soon.

She also plays favorites. Li'l Pammy Goodykins* read a sentence her perfect pronunciation, after which the teacher announced, "Class, don't you think Li'l Pammy has the best pronunciation? Out of all the students in here, I think she has the most ability to master this language. Don't you agree, class? Don't you agree?" Li'l Pammy is a German major. She'd better master the language.

Sigh. I haven't been in a class like this since middle school.

*Name has been changed to protect the innocent (me) and also entertain (me).

For the record, I am now officially a member of Eta Sigma Phi.

I love the word "skitter" but I sound extremely southern when I say it. Nuts.

We were driving down Central Avenue in Brea the other night when we noticed a trail of paint on the asphalt. The trail of this apparent paint leak continued, and we thought it might get on the 57 freeway, but it continued on the same direction we took. We tracked it for quite a few miles, and when it finally faded away, I have to say we were disappointed. It would have been so cool if the paint leak had lead right to the person's house.

Which leads me to a very good prank. Lead a paint trail from, say, the liquor store or some other place of ill repute (get creative!), right back to your victim's driveway. It might help to sway a bit, too. And here's a tip: wait until the roads have just been paved, so that the fun will last a long time.

We accidentally bought high pulp orange juice. I thought I'd be grossed out, but it's just different. It has the density of a smoothie, but a very different texture. For some reason it feels healthier. Huh.

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Today was eventful. First we attended church, and afterward we swung by Babies R' Us and picked up a gift for the mother whose baby shower we went to next. After that we went to Brandon's mom's house to hang out for a bit. Once we left there, we drove to Brandon's dad's house where we washed the new car until it was squeaky clean. Then we greased the interior down with Armor-all. Gots to protect it from the U-V rays, you know.

And now we're home. Finally. It should be time for Latin and Greek homework for dear Brandon and German and Astronomy homework for me, but... I hear snoring coming from the couch, and it really seems like a lovely idea.

We saw Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow a few hours ago. I was entertained the entire time but never felt like the plot was fashioned for someone with Attention Deficit Disorder. I also liked the way it was filmed as though it took place in the past. But I'm sure some one else can describe the movie and rave about it far better than I can. So I'll just say I thought it was swell.

I like our new apartment. (Well, sort of new. We've been there since May.) I like that there are often bright happy things around it. During the day it's children frolicking off to school, women pushing their babies in strollers...and Cacti—which all mix well. At night we usually have a good view of the stars, a surplus of cute little bunnies all around...and there are skunks—which also mix well.

There is a hill nearby that we call "the nappy hill." It's covered in cacti and bushes, which leaves it with more of a brown hue. Were it not for our nappy hill, we could see the mountain in the distance. It's okay, the nappy hill houses the bunnies and skunks. It also houses coyotes, according to the warnings posted at our mailboxes. They like to eat most of the cute things I've mentioned, plus many more.

Where are my manners? Here I am whining about my German class, while my peeps in the south are getting blown every which-a-way by a stinky hurricane. Well, family and friends, I'm thinking of you. I miss you all. Give the hurricane a mean look for me.

I love earplugs. At night I'd tried running fans, playing a cd of the ocean, it just didn't cut it. Oh but these good housekeeping earplugs - they bring the noise level down 29 decibles. Or something like that. I slept so well. That's all that matters.

I have a big mean German quiz on Thursday and I'm totally dreading it. I want to learn German. I think I like the language. But I'm getting no help out of class. I might as well sit around and read the book and listen to German CD's myself. Why? Well see, my teacher doesn't explain anything she says - she just yammers on in German, which makes me want to pull out my hair. And I don't want to have to get tutoring for this - this is an introductory course, and I think that if I'm doing my part and have a teency bit of intelligence I shouldn't require tutoring. Eh, but this is her first time teaching German. S'pose I'll just have to work harder. Or make a horrible grade and be all resentful. Whatever. ;)

Move over, Snoop Dogg. This pimp-daddy ride has enough gold to make even TBN jealous! It may not be pretty, but if there is one thing them leaders got in Brunei it's a superfluous amount of gold.

A block or two from Brandon's dad's house, there is a neighborhood called "Pleasant Hills." But for as long as Brandon can remember, the L has been missing, which of course improved the street name to "Peasant Hills." A few miles from our apartment is a street called "Pheasant Run," and I can't help thinking that people would appreciate it if the H were removed from the street sign.

I'm quietly listening to Launchcast at work. As you know, if you don't fork out the $3 a month for Launchcast plus, you get to hear commercials every 4th song or so. That is how I encountered this really horrible commercial.

It's a public service announcement sort of commercial. It starts off sounding like you're checking your voicemail and hear this annoyed guy talking. PICK UP! I know you can hear me. Why haven't you called me back? You're so stupid! . . . and on it goes. Then the guy complains to a friend about the way "she" treats him, and realizes, Oh, I'm a jerk. Yeah. So I'm not an abusive boyfriend, and I've never owned one. While I'm totally against abusive men and stuff, that doesn't mean I want people walking by my desk to think I have a psycho on the side. Stupid commercial.

Brandon and I are doing some kitty-sitting this week. I'm actually excited. I love cats, and since it'll be a while before we can get one, I'm happy to be around them any chance I get. It's sort of like the way I should feel about babies. Ah well.

I've got to quit taking long naps during my days off. It gets to be oh, say, past 2 am and I'm still awake. I just get so exhausted during the week that I sort of slip into a coma when I don't have to work. Then Brandon wakes me up for something silly like medicine or dinner, or else I think I'd just blissfully sleep until Sunday morning.