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August 28, 2009 / ebretzel

Cripes, like I need another reason to be addicted to the internet…

…yet here I am writing a blog. Everyone has a blog these days, and I don’t expect anyone to find mine particularly interesting, but if I can amuse at least one or two of my friends and/or family then that’s good enough for me. I’m not going for the #1 Emily Bretzel spot on google. Try googling “Emily Bretzel” once – just for kicks. Did you mean “Pretzel”?

I not only started a blog for myself, but I started one for my mother’s entire extended family. At our last family gathering (my 3rd 80th birthday of the summer) a few of us got to thinking of better ways to keep in touch. There are just too many of us, and grandma complains that she never gets to see the photos that we all take. A multi-author blog seemed to be the best solution. For the older generation, this means having a one stop shop that is NOT facebook, and hopefully something that will be simple for them to understand how to navigate. For the younger generation, it’s just another blog to add to their RSS feed.

A few days ago, while stopping in for a visit at the ‘rents, my mom dug out some old pre-blog journals of mine. One of them I had written while I was visiting my soon-to-be German exchange student Tina and her family. I was 17 and traveling for the first time by myself, navigating several layovers and arriving 34 hours later in a tiny German airport. Only to find that my luggage did not arrive with me and that no one was there to greet me. (they had the times mixed up) Fortunately, I was able to figure out how to use the phone and phone card to let them know that I was there! I commenced to keep a diligent journal of our daily activities. So, without further ado, here is an excerpt from my 17 year-old brain while on the plane to Germany:

June 29th, 2000. “I am sitting next to a man from Sweden. He didn’t say much about himself, but he asked where I was going. When I told him I was going to Germany, he asked me if I spoke German. I said, “a little.” Then he asked me if I was taking Chinese. Crazy Swede. Me speak Chinese?”



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