Sunday, March 29, 2009


I used to think I was good at learning languages. I started taking German in the 8th grade. I kept taking it every year until in high school I progressed out of the sequences and they brought in a woman to teach three of us--Pete, Alyssa and me--the 6th year German course. By the end of that year, I thought I knew German pretty well. That year, I went to Germany with my family. From the hotel room, I ordered towels. The housekeeper responded in English. Apparently, either my knowledge or pronunciation could have used a 7th year.
At Reed College, we had to take a third year language course in our English major. I thought, no big deal. I'll test out of that first year.
Not so much. I do think I got an A in first year. And I studied with my boyfriend who grew up with grandparents who spoke German (who is now also strangely living in Arizona. Thanks FB.) and therefore got A's and B's in second year German. Third year German, I read Perfume, The Clown, The Sleepwalkers, and the Magic Mountain--in translation--but read a few pages of each in the original German.
At the U, to graduate, you had to be proficient in one language or competent in two. I took the German test for proficiency. I translated the strangest passage about bees. I have no idea what that had to do with the title of the piece, which was something like "Disorientation in Adorno's Metaphor." Or maybe that wasn't the title at all, for I did not pass that test.
I high-tailed it to Spanish. I could never remember what aufrichten meant in German. I had a hard time with the verbs that cut themselves in the middle and the prefix is tossed to the end of sentences like: Ich richte meine Mutti auf. That could mean I called my mom up, out or bought her a sweater. "Auf," a preposition, can mean at, to, on, or upon. "Auf" can also be an accusative or dative perposition meaning that the articles, die, der or das, changed depending on how auf is used.
Although I may not understand German, I understand German grammar better than English.
Spanish proved easier because I already understood that sometimes verbs are reflexive, like "me gusta" and that adjectives can come after the noun "the cornflower blue." Again, the words didn't stick that well. Egg and I once tried to help a guy move his car. He spoke only Spanish. I kept (in my version of the story, Erik says this, but I really don't know which of us brought out the heavy cannons of translation skill) saying "Parko el caro." I think that means are parrots expensive here.
Now I'm trying to learn Italian. I have a language tape for my iPod. It's 70 minutes long so I listen to one half when I run one day, the second half the next running day. Over and over. There's fancy music in the background. The Italian woman who teaches me is named Philomena. I understand "mi piaci" is "me gusta" in Italian. I get "I would like," is "vorrei" in Italian and "Ich moechte"(the o should have umlauts but Blogger won't let me umlaut. The e suggsts umlaut) in German.
I had to look up how to spell "vorrei" since I only know the sounds of the words from Philomena. I presume, by the time I get to Italy, I will know how to order a towel in Italian. (Vorrei un asciugamano?) I expect that someone will counter with, "You'd like a towel" just to be sure I'm not asking for a wiry ice cream (gelato asciutto). I do think I know how to order a bottle of wine, red(vino rosso) and some bread (del pane), which is, in the end, all I probably need to know.

Saturday, March 21, 2009


My friend Steve has a new blog about poetry--gay men and gay critics specifically but also about the poetry world in general. Steve's writing voice is one of my favorites--both smart and sweet. I don't know how to be that vulnerable with words.

In response to Dr. Write's posting about the end of blogs, I do fear for the blog. People post less frequently, it seems. Facebook is OK but it's not as revealing. To me, it's a good way to remember I have friends but not a good way to actually learn anything more than I didn't already know. So, in honor of Dr. Write's Long Live the Blog, I updated my blog colors. Maybe one day, I'll make my own graphic. Maybe one day, I'll choose a more reasonable blog name. I thought Otterhead would be funny but now I can't remember why. When I updated, I accidentally lost all my links so there's new ones and old ones but if somebody wants me to add theirs, I'm happy to.

And in honor of more than you didn't already know I will tell you that I called some people in the department to invite them to dinner tonight--impetuously! Spontaneously! They, in turn, invited us over to their house instead which means I have a) a lot of food and b) might have to impetuously/spontaneously invite different people over tomorrow. I'm working on the making of real live friends. We'll see how it goes.

And, in Zoe news, she would like you to know that we have three flowering croakersez.

And I'm still revising a research proposal and a book proposal and an essay. I think the essay is nearly done, thanks to Steve. One day, I'll write something new. I think it will be about grilled cheese. Stay posted.

Sunday, March 08, 2009

Saving Daylight

Good morning ye who are wondering where that hour went, thinking man, that sun is pretty low for 9:15. But ye people know that spring has arrived. Or will shortly and you can look forward to warm evenings when the sun sets at 9 or even 10. When we were in Michigan, right near the solstice, the sun wouldn't set until almost 10:30.
But now we are here. Where the Republicans don't like to switch time. Where there's some thinking that in Phoenix, it will be hot for a shorter amount of the day. I suppose one sleeps through an hour of extra sun?
But up here, it's not so great. First of all, I like daylight savings. I think everyone, everywhere should always wake up later and drive home in the light. In the summer, I like sitting outside until midnight. But when the sun goes down, at least up here, in this desert mountain town, so does the temperature. Therefore, inside we go, tamping out the fires in the fire pit and closing up the blinds at 8:30.
Perhaps I will spend the day writing an ode to Daylight Savings.
I look forward to going home next week where home isn't just a place, it's an altered, and therefore perfect, time zone.