|Wall Art at Cinema Paris in Berlin|
So here goes. Five things no one knows about me:
1. I'm sarcastic, and yes, often in the mean way. I hate to admit it, but it's true. The master of the snarky comment and the not-so-gentle-jive, I strive for a friendlier and more forgiving dialogue and yet I negate my own aspirations of positivity daily. I think part of it just comes from the pervasive irony our family employs, the currency of humor that I grew up with. In our clan, nothing and no-one is safe from humorous harm, no topic too taboo and no psyche too vulnerable. Somehow, the laugh always justifies the joke, no matter how underhanded or unnecessary. Its not a character quality I like, and I'm working on it, but there you have it.
|A Quiet Evening: Me reading, Papa napping, Oma with her paper|
3. I go through a whole bar of dark chocolate at day. The big bars.
4. I am always homesick for a different homeland. This is part of being a mixed culture kid. The other language, the other world, far-away tastes and scents and sounds are as much home as all you have right here and now. Missing a home is like missing a loved one; a constant ache where an essential part of you should be. You forget, in the shower and on the bus and in line at the grocery store, that the hole is always there. Then you hear a song about Berlin or see the New York skyline in a deodorant ad across the street and remember, like a punch in the gut, the piece of you that's an ocean away.
5. I am regularly overwhelmed (literally stop-in-your-tracks overwhelmed) with gratitude at the immensity of undeserved blessings I have been given in this life. The opportunities and adventures and pure-dang-good-fortune with with I have been endowed boggle my mind. Sometimes, on a quiet weekend, I'll take a walk in the woods around the corner and whisper to myself like a witchy old crone: "thank-you, thank-you, thank-you, thank-you."
Look up at the Sky!