My passion is language. Both native and foreign tongues intrigue me because it opens up doors to other cultures, both within and without my own language. German is my language of choice. Although it was not the first language I learned, it was definately the best. I was forced through French in Kindergarten (that means 'child's garden'; look at me I'm a little translator), I enjoyed doing the Macarena during Spanish in elementary school, and I suffered through boring written translations of Latin in middle school. High school came along and I did what every other child in my family did: take German. I had to take a language anyway (or did I?), so I decided German would be something new and exciting. And it was! I was awesome at it. I played little games in my mind, trying to find the German root of English words. I told people how easy German was, and I would torture them by making them try to figure out what 'handschue' were. Come on, guess. I have since strayed from my adopted mother tongue by taking French in college. BIG mistake. I've never been so miserable in my life. I could sing 'Frere Jacque', but I had no clue how what was being said. 'Fruit' was pronounced 'fruee' or 'fuee', I forget. A good white wine ('un bon vin blanc') was pronounced 'uh buh vah blanh'. Dear God, what does it all mean??? I didn't know. So I left that abusive cow of a language and have returned to my second mother, repenting over and over. I will never, I repeat, NEVER take French again. If I do, cut out my tongue because I have again wronged my mater secunda (us? um? atis? Damn Latin.). German is forever my love and I have focused my life on going to school, becoming fluent and passing on my knowledge to young, unsuspecting children. But don't feel bad, it'll be good for them.