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 a chef [...]
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 understand a [...]
