Enya

Chères soeurs,
I need not be reminded that I am so dreadfully incapable of apprising you regularly on my daily comings and goings. But you see I have become so frightfully listless during my stay in Germany; I fear I can't summon the energy to do much of anything, least of all relate the events of my humdrum existence.
Today I woke up particularly out of sorts, owing much to what I perceived to be a social slight the night before, or at least miscommunication that verged dangerously on a social slight and left me to the mercy of the wolves. I returned to my shabby rooms and, naturally, availed myself of the two bottles of Beaujolais that I had purchased for use in a more social atmosphere. It would thusly be too cruel to judge me too harshly for skipping class today; to begin with, my contributions are hardly of a terribly substantive nature, so it was really to the benefit of all that I absented myself.
I also rejected the idea of eating at the cafeteria, such a dispiriting affair, and thought a little Thai at a nearby restaurant would prove revivifying. If it wasn't such an apt commentary on my most desperate of situations, it would be humorous to relate how, quite like everything else in the country, German Thai is so overwhelmingly insipid. And while not being a stranger to the glaring inadequacies of service at such establishments in the US, I was still quite appalled to find that the staff seemed to stop at nothing to offend my sensibilities.
I really need not narrate the content of my daily excursion to the library; its rather too prosaic, save for the presence of a vicious man who controls the comings and goings of the reading room to which I have found myself so unpleasantly foisted.
More recently, I went in search of late afternoon tea and cheer to fortify me for what is sure to be another gloomy night. Unsurprisingly, you would say, I only discovered a cafe that rather ought to boast its atmosphere of unmitigated oppressiveness.
I decided a savory crêpe would be in order, as a fair approximation of the dinner I shall not treat myself to. Folly on my part assuredly, a crêpe surely made for some lesser life form or a viscious joke played at my expense, seemingly like so many before it. I now only have the thought of my near immanent return to sustain me, while everyday I fear the prospect of another.
This might very well be my last little missive from Europe; and as such, I hope it serves as a cautionary tale to the dangers of idle prattle. How I would like to ring the necks of all who have said that Germany was a country of interest, for I am not certain if ever a more bland, uninspiring and featureless place ever existed. I am writing this of course as someone loudly plays Enya in the background, most certainly to make mockery of my overwrought emotions.
Yours foudly,
Saint-Denis

Total solitude

Chères soeurs,
I find much need in consulting you and much solace in doing so. As you might know by now, Germany has not proven the palliative to an otherwise unfortunate year that it once promised to be. Instead of being embraced for my warmth and love of knowledge, I have been thrown to the wolves, to embarrass myself at will, and without a friend in sight. How can this be?
I have now just returned from my inaugural trip to the beer garden I scouted out just this Saturday, on what was then only my ten thousandth solo stroll around the old city of Heidelberg. I return to my dank room faced with the choice of an early night's rest (it being only 830 or so) or a few more episodes of Brothers and Sisters, which never fail to lighten the soul. Instead I have decided to begin anew my little journal, at a time most dire. Allow me to recount my day's activities.
I woke this morning to the sound of my 805 alarm, signaling the beginning of another, depressing day. But today I can not marshal the strength to get out of bed, so I decide to arrive tardy to my course, after our habitual 1045 break. Alas, I have managed to make no friends in my course, but at least have noticed a shift in my colleagues opinions of me, from unpleasant indifference to more nuanced feeling. For instance, a dear young Jordanian boy, seems to regard me with equal parts amusement and contempt. I tried to rectify this by giving him a cigarette this morning but I am quite sure, he said something nasty about the length of my shorts when I went to give my presentation on the Zeit, a German weekly oriented towards the working woman. Conversely, I have managed to make a lunchtime pal of a young man from the US, which has lessened my daily solitude by at least an hour daily.
Tomorrow is shaping up to be another disaster, as I am being forced to visit the ruins of a castle with my course; having no friends, these excursions always inspire dread in me, as I must navigate the thin line between quiet disdain and openness to any friendship opportunities that should come my way. I am skipping tonight's movie, not to create a sense of mystery, which has hitherto proved an astonishing failure, but to rest for tomorrow's activities and perhaps take in a quiet yet uplifting episode of Brothers and Sisters, as I have mentioned previously.
Oh, how the fates can be cruel! I see no end to my troubles and the beginnings of what can only become an expensive prescription drug addiction. I do hope you keep me in your thoughts, as I only have fond thoughts to sustain me now.
Yours, most fondly,
Saint-Denis