That Moment I Realized Our Differing Sense of Humor

Hey! So sorry for missing yet another Monday post. I spent Sunday working on my novel. I got a lot done and it was very satisfying. Unfortunately that meant I was burnt out from writing a post, even if I knew what I was writing about.

I think that I may have to cut back on Monday posts for a while (at least to allow the energy to work on my novel). So definitely keep expecting Wednesday and Friday posts but don’t be surprised if a Monday post doesn’t appear.

Anyway, we now return you to your regularly scheduled post:

Several days ago, T and I were watching a documentary on Dickmann’s.


Yeah, they’re call Dickmann’s

They are delightful little chocolates filled with Marshmallow-y goodness. In the documentary, the host helped out in various areas of the candy-making process including trying to package them. It was very reminiscent of the infamous I Love Lucy episode in the candy shop:

I said this out loud but received no reaction.

Fast-forward to a few days later where another Lucy reference made itself known in a Simpson’s episode. I laughed but quickly realized that T didn’t because he didn’t get the reference. Also (and now for the bombshell):

He had never see an episode of I Love Lucy.

What kind of existence has this poor man been living up ’til now? Well, thanks to YouTube we quickly remedied that but it reminded me of other times I have cracked jokes that went over not only his head but others.

It’s not their fault. Most of my jokes are obscure movies and shows or cult classics (at least by American standards). A conversation with me is like a cross of Big Bang Theory and Gilmore Girls (and sometimes at that speed, too).

I have had to cut back on things like “name that movie” since moving to Germany (this is when a quote finds its way into a conversation and you stop and say “name that movie!” – it’s hard here because even if they knew the movie it would have been in German).

But sometimes little bits just come out (like turrets).

A while back, I wanted to well-wish some friends. I couldn’t think of any original because I had the following line from “Firefly” stuck in my head:

Inara Serra (to Malcolm Reynolds): I wish you hundreds of fat children.


T didn’t get the reference. He has seen a few episodes but we haven’t gotten to “Our Dear Mrs. Reynolds.” Of course the first thing that came to mind was “well, my friends would think it’s funny.” Then BAM! Homesickness.

I didn’t realize how much I had cocooned myself in such a community that you don’t realize that not everyone memorizes The Princess Bride (proceeding to act out the fight scene between the Man in Black and Inigo Montoya in the street) or breaks out into Showtunes on a bus or go out to dinner with a friend ONLY to discuss the latest theory on George R. R. Martin’s “A Song of Ice and Fire”…….for hours…..


I have done these things. Repeatedly and without shame.

Sometimes I wonder what will happen on the eventual day my zany American friends finally meet my German ones. I think it will be funny as well as a fascinating social experiment. But don’t worry, Germans, if you think we are weird and we manage to embarrass you in public – you’re not alone. We do that to everyone.

But the cool thing about being with a guy like T is that he is always interested in new experiences and loves a good story. Just as much as he tries to immerse me in his culture and his likes – he really tries to get into mine.

Granted, from this side of the pond, I am limited to mostly tv and movies, aside from the occasional trips to the US, but that’s ok. We are definitely enjoying this journey of better understanding.

Have a wonderful week and bis Freitag!!!

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