I need to learn another language. So far my husband knows four, and I need to catch up. (For the record, those four are English, Spanish, Greek and Hebrew.) Now he's talking about picking up German ("Want to take a summer class together at the community college?!"), which I should already know because I'm German, but I don't. (Though I'd like to learn, and I would enjoy the summer class.) I started learning Italian last year, but after 2 or 3 phrases, I got busy and stopped my lessons. I also want to learn Russian and Arabic. My little brother is learning Arabic, which he's also planning to study in college.

So like I said, I need to catch up! So maybe I'm already ahead of most Americans, with both English and Spanish in my repertoire, but that isn't enough. I want to be able to eavesdrop on any conversation I happen to hear while walking around in the city. (Just kidding.) But let's just say that I look "American" enough that no one would suspect I'm multilingual. !!!

I'd love to be able to greet the cashier at the Russian market where I shop, or order in the right language in restaurants. Oh, who am I kidding? I just want to be able to say that I speak 10 languages. Ahh, maybe I'll work on it in my spare time.

I've encountered a new kind of menace on the streets: delivery people who are chatting on their cell phones while working. For the last two days, our letter carrier has come into our office while in the middle of a phone conversation, pausing to make his usual greeting.

Then at the end of the day yesterday, I was nearly run over by a UPS worker attempting to pull a cart full of packages up the curb onto the sidewalk--backwards--all while talking into his phone and completely ignoring everything else around him.

The prevalence of hands-free devices is a very good thing--they keep our hands on the wheel while driving and undoubtedly help us avoid accidents. Sure, this has blurred the line between who is sane and who isn't by making it perfectly normal to walk down the street while talking to seemingly no one. But the shock to me is members of service professions who seem perfectly content to have a personal phone call while they are doing their job. It is my personal opinion that the state of "customer service" at many corporations in this country has degraded beyond repair...could they have found a way to make it even worse?

How many conversations should we have at one time? Is there such a thing as too much multitasking? Ahh, the questions that technology forces us to ask.

Oh, hold on. I am in the middle of 3 IM conversations, 2 draft emails, and my 2 phones just started to ring. I'll be back later.

Ode to my apartment

How do I hate thee? Let me count the ways.
Your floors are not level, your walls not square.
Your air is smoky, and very cold in winter.
Your radiators do not work.
The stairs to reach you are steep and dangerous.
Laundry may be free,
but I must go outdoors to get there.
Your water pressure slows to a trickle
when neighbors turn on a faucet.
You keep me waiting for several minutes
before sending hot water to the kitchen.
You allow noise to flow freely between apartments,
and various odors to hang in the air.
The nails in your floor hurt my feet,
Your light fixtures are ugly and work intermittently.
You may be a historic structure,
but the beauty you once had is masked
by years of halfhearted attempts at repair.
Your wallpaper is dirty and torn,
Your walls pitted with the fading memory of renters past.
Though your closets are many,
your kitchen cabinets and counters are few.
Your sinks and tub are old,
Your separate hot and cold faucets leaky and inconvenient.
Your various walls made only of paneling are flimsy,
Your unlocked door to the neighboring unit unnerving.
Your electrical wiring is downright scary,
with the slightest wrong move knocking out the lights.
The lock on your door is difficult to open,
And your entryway is impossibly narrow.
It is not your fault that the neighbors are noisy and inconsiderate,
but you seem to attract them in droves.
You have provided me with shelter for three years,
The first two being pleasant
but the last one being torturous.
You are spacious but inconvenient,
Well-lit but poorly insulated,
Historic but deteriorated.
Please do not resent my abandonment,
as I am moving to a better place.
I will remember you,
if only to tell stories of you to my children one day.
Goodbye, I hope you will find someone
that you can make very happy.

I got hit by a car today.

This is yet another reason for me to be GLAD that we're moving. In two weeks I won't have to cross so many busy streets to get to the train in the morning. Today I was in the crosswalk, halfway across the street, when a guy ran the stop sign. Fortunately I was just deflected off the front bumper and not actually run over. My foot hurts, and I'm pretty shaken up and sore, but I hope nothing more will develop.

There were some really nice people who ran over from the train platform to see if I was ok. One guy yelled at the driver and got the license plate number for me, even though he had a train to catch. I actually did make my train, which was nice, but in hindsight I wish I'd gone back home. Oh, well, at least it gives me something interesting to talk about today.

Whoa, I've got to start contributing to this more often. My three little posts make me look pretty lame. I'll be back soon.

OK, this is ridiculous---it's snowing...in March! That or there was an explosion at a styrofoam packing material factory. Either way, I was NOT in the mood to be hit by white stuff while walking in to work today. I am completely ready for spring to arrive.

Part of my problem, I imagine, is the barrage of ads for spring clothing, spring sales, "install your pool now--summer is just around the corner!" and all the kids and college students currently on "Spring" Break. (The misnaming of this particular vacation from school is somewhat of a pet peeve of mine, but that's another conversation altogether.)

I know, I know, I live in Chicago, where the biting winds can attack at any moment year round. But I am moving in two weeks and I have been secretly hoping that I wouldn't need to wear gloves and a hat to load the moving truck.

Enough whining for now. Time for another 24-ounce cup of hot coffee...mmm....