take a left at the third 'apple light.'

It took us a good 7 hours to make it to Berlin.  7 hours in a tiny rental car.  Being the only one who knows how to drive stick, I piloted us the whole way - pretty smooth sailing until we got a bit - well, not lost per say, but rather, not exactly en route.  A few stops at gas stations proved ineffective due to my lack of any german language knowledge.  One woman who didn't speak a lick of English recognized my plea for "Zentrum! Berlin!"  She pointed me onward with drastic 90 degree angle arm movements and a kind hearted severity.  So we continue on our merry 3 am exhausted way.  Thank god for humor and Lady GaGa or I think our moods would've been a bit less jovial.

We stopped again where a very nice gas station attendant, who kept apologizing for his "not so good English," which was in reality our saving grace, but he continued to sincerely ask for our forgiveness for the fact that he couldn't speak my language fluently enough to guide me around Berlin.  Honestly, I hate my underdeveloped language skills.  Throughout my time here, I've met so many people who speak 2, 3, 4 or more languages and it's a completely understated ability.

Why of course I speak Norwegian and Arabic and spot on Spanish; I'm a native Dutch speaker, but I'd be more than happy to translate to English for you.  Jesus.  My inadequacy at it's finest, I'm often embarrassed by the fact that I can only speak English and a comically simple vocabulary of French.

But regardless, we made it to Hostel #1, where at 3:30 am the receptionist told us we were too early for breakfast.  Right.  Then we headed up to our room wherein we shared bunk beds with a few men who seemed to find pants superfluous, and a few others who remained clumps of blankets.  Welcome to Berlin.

Berlin was just a cool city.  So much history.  We wandered around, through the Brandenburg gate, went to a few museums, saw Checkpoint Charlie...strange to think what is now a tourist attraction, complete with street vendors boasting flasks with the communist logo, was once a divide in the Berlin wall, separating East and West.  My friend's mom was in Berlin, and at the time of her travels, the wall was still standing.  Crazy to think of - I can't even picture it, or imagine it.  But I suppose it isn't so unimaginable - bombings in Moscow, boats blown up near North Korea...times are different, but I guess a divided city and fast spreading ideologies is not such a wild idea after all.

We next stopped and stayed at a tiny town called St. Goar right on the Rhine river, under a castle.  That's correct, a castle.  The friendly receptionist greeted me with the true spelling of my last name - Löffler, and told us there probably wouldn't be anything open in town for dinner.  We managed to find one place to eat - Asia Kim.  They basically re-opened the place for us, so to reciprocate, we had ordered a few sake bombs, some german beers, and some very, very tasty meals.  Decided to pour hot sauce all over my rice.  Breathed dragon-like fire for a while.  Saw an old castle the next day, wandered around passageways and dark tunnels, and drove back into Belgium.  Another great adventure to talk about.

A resumé, you say?

So I'm attempting to obtain an internship for the fall.  Yes folks, taking the proverbial next step, I am looking to find an entrance into the writing real world.  Good for me!

Everything seems so simple.  There is an internship class offered at my University, I sign up for it, and my professor helps to locate somewhere that will take me.  Great.  Grand.  Wonderful.  Just send me your resumé and we'll get the ball rolling.  Oh...right...okay...

I've never written a resumé.  I've held jobs before of course; however, the application process didn't require one.  So, you know, I sit in front of my computer, google search how the hell one goes about doing this, e-mail my brother who deals with an inordinate amount of them per day, and begin.  Name.  Simple enough, contact info, got that one in the bag.  Objective?  What is my objective?  Well to get an internship...objective...that's a plan.  A plan?  A plan?!?!  I don't have one of those.  I don't know what I'm doing with my life.  I like to write, I like to travel, I like to make people laugh.  Is that an objective?  No, no it's not.  

So I take a break to avoid an existential crisis.  This is just a simple document, after all.  I make a peanut butter and honey sandwich, and sit back down.  Next up?  Education.  This one I have covered.  I list my places of study, and the things I've done during my time at each.  I finish it up, and read through it.  Now I realize; I've done so few things.  So few things.  My education spans 16 years, what in the world was I doing with my time?  I mean I felt like a mildly accomplished member of society until this moment.  Right at this moment, this moment with my peanut butter and honey sandwich and the blinking cursor.  And look at this, from 1997-2007 I was a music student, playing in concert bands, jazz bands, orchestras, I even went on American Music Abroad and played concerts in multiple countries.  I don't play the clarinet or saxophone anymore, they sit lonely in their cases at my house.  Why'd I stop?  I start to miss it, I go to the instrumental music section of my iTunes, and lament, feeling like I left a good friend behind.

Great, so now I'm still on the verge of that objective existential crisis, and I'm sad, and I still have no full resumé.  I have to take a break again so I go make some coffee.  Chat with someone in the kitchen, feel a bit more relaxed, have some energy from the coffee, quell my issues a bit, and sit back down.  Experience.  Alright, so I worked in a grocery store, I worked at a wine store, and I was a caterer.  Now, none of these are the most glamorous of positions, but I feel as though I have actually learned things.  

Firstly.  People get upset if they purchase a watermelon and it tastes bad.  They will be angry with you, the customer service employee, as if you farmed said watermelon, planted the seed in poor soil and didn't water it enough.  They will feel cheated.  You will be confused by their misdirected frustration, and you will have to learn how to make them happy.  I can do this now.  People will try and take advantage of you, try to get money back that they don't deserve.  You will have to learn how to calmly say no, to make sure the company isn't just tossing out bills to any John or Jane who comes in displeased with the texture of their pasta salad.  Basic situations, but good training.  Managers will like you if you are pleasant, and if you do your job and aren't lazy.  If you have the option to stand around, but you clean up instead, or do little odd jobs that would have to be done later, people will notice eventually.  If you have a nice smile when a customer comes with a question, if you direct them to someone who can find them the perfect wine to compliment the chicken marsala they just described to you, they'll like that.  If you add a few extra ribbons to the gift wrapping, everyone wins.  If you're working at a wedding and you make small talk and jokes with your tables, they'll remember your name.  If you carry a tray with 9 meals on it and don't complain, and stay late because silverware needs to be sorted, someone is going to thank you, and you're doing your job.  I think about my jobs, and do I love them?  Do I want to do them forever?  Negative...however, I think I did a good job, I think I worked hard.  So this part pleases me.

Personal statement?  This, this I like.  I can say things, I can try to be more than just a bulleted list.  So I write a little ditty, an abbreviated (WHY is abbreviation such a long word?) bit about who I am.  

So you know, I'm feeling okay.  I have a friend look over it, and she tells me I should get it on one page.  My brother says the same thing.  One page...okay...formatting thing, thats fine, that's fine.

One page?  ONE page?  One page is how I'm to be introduced?  This throws me into a tailspin.  I mean I get it, it makes sense, resumés have to be short.  You can't write up a biography and send it in, expecting that everyone has time to learn your life story to decide if you're right for the part.  But how do I appear on one page?  Can you read one page and know me?  Certainly not, but all of a sudden I feel trapped.  I feel confined in this one page, size 10 font, like the lines that separate the Objective, Education and Experience sections are walls and I'm stuck in them.

But it's just a document, right?