Now I am an otter named Olive
It is hard to type with my little otter paws, but I make it work. Some of you may know I’m sort of anti-blog, but everyone can use a creative outlet sometimes. The other day I was watching an episode of Queer Eye for the Straight Guy (not by choice, I might add) in which [...]
You speak good American.
At a party this weekend, a French boy said to me (in French), “I don’t understand you and your friend when you talk, because you don’t speak American well.” I have thought about this comment a lot. I have tried to put myself in this boy’s place. If I was in America, and I couldn’t [...]
