DSH=my bitch

Today I woke up ridiculously early to go into Hannover for the oral part of the DSH test. To say that I was off my game would be an understatement--I was up until one-thirty AM on the phone with my mother, and then laid in bed panicking in the dark until about four thirty, when I may or may not have fallen asleep.  Then, two hours later, it was out the door for me.  So when my train pulled into the station at 8 AM this morning, I was upset, exhausted, completely unfocused, and barely coherent enough to buy a ham and cheese croissant, let alone take major tests.  At 8.30 AM the sun came up over the university (which is in a castle), and under any other circumstances, it probably would have been a sight to behold, but today, I just wanted to stab it in the face.

When they put the chart that I had to talk about in front of me, and set the twenty minute timer, my panic levels hit the red zones, because I didn't understand it--not any of it.  I spent most of my given prep time looking up what the words in the title were in my dictionary.  With three minutes to go, I gave up, closed my dictionary, put my pen down, and more or less bid adieu to the cold, cruel world.

As far as the test itself went, I sat down in front of two ladies, introduced myself, explained the grafik, and prayed to the High Gods of Spoken Word that the test-takers were more interested in me talking than in what I was actually talking about.  To my surprise, they barely asked me about the chart, which wound up having something to do with factors that positively and negatively affect how much money people make, like education, job training, and whether or not you have boobs and/or British soldiers to buy you drinks.  The only thing they asked me after I talked about everything was how would I clarify the difference between a university education and practical job education?  I said, "To be honest, I didn't really understand this part of the chart.  Our educational system in the US is different, and we don't really have the practical job training that is standard in Germany.  But if I had to guess..." and then I made up some bullshit answer, which wound up leading to a discussion on how long bachelors degrees in the US vs Germany take, which lead to a discussion of why I don't speak Portuguese anymore, which lead to a discussion in which I explained my deep burning desire to work in Australia, which I more or less made up on the spot.  Then they kicked me out.

I sat in the hallway with three Palestinians and a Tunisian (no, being American in this situation is not awkward, why do you ask?) as we waited for our results.  When they called me back in, the lady said, "Listen, unfortunately I don't have a lot of time, so I'm going to make this as painless as possible."  I collapsed internally.  So much for kangaroo praising getting me through major exams.  Curse you, Australia.  "Basically, you speak at near-native fluency, your mistakes are so minor they're not even worth mentioning, you express yourself wonderfully, and you'll have no problems studying at a university.  We gave you a 96%, which means you're still a DSH-3, and you in fact did better on this portion than on the written portion.  Apparently, you speak better than you write.  Here's your official record."

I don't really remember what happened after that, but I'm pretty sure I hung out briefly with the Palestinians and the Tunisian, and I may or may not have at some point opened my mouth to do something other than squeak.  And while I think the examiner was far too kind in her assessment of my language skills, I'm not in the habit of looking horses in the mouth, gift or otherwise.  That's what horse dentists are for.

After arriving back in Celle, I decided to celebrate by watching Glee.  I clicked on a link.  Next thing I knew, my computer went black, and then a very official looking page popped up: "Use of your computer has been suspended by the German government due to illegal activity."  Panicked, I shut it down and restarted.  Same thing.  This time I took a closer look at the suspension notice, and realized that in 2011, bleeding heart liberalism and Sarah Palin jokes probably do not count as links to terrorism, even in Germany.  And while I'm no expert on how these things work, I am relatively sure that as a general rule, you can't buy your way out of terrorism-links for the low low price of 100 euros.  Fabulous.  ANOTHER goddamn virus.

I don't think I posted about this on here, but last week I somehow managed to contract a virus that wouldn't let me access the internet, open up anti-virus software, or do anything other than cry.  Zack, in all his amazing magical computer powers, walked me through the idiot-proof steps, then hexed my computer, crushed it under his tech-savvy iron thumb, and avada kedavra-ed the virus DEAD, all the way from America. Because that boy is amazing.

But the German government's offer to buy myself out of this bind was expiring, and it was six AM his time, so I thought maybe I could take myself back through what he had me do last time, and, if not destroy the virus's soul in a flash of dramatic green light, at least tar and feather it.  And it worked!  I killed it dead!  Where would I be if not for Zack's idiot-proof computer genius?  Dead in a ditch, I tell you, with my computer burning merrily next to me.

And that's how I destroyed the DSH exam and a computer virus, all in the same day.

And Australia lived happily ever after.