All about my FLAJ

Alright! Calm down! It’s only been a couple of days. There’s no need for all the emails and text messages asking where the next blog post is! I just moved to a new city. I’m very busy, you know, getting lost and, er, sleeping. (Haha, since I ironically wrote this people have commented on facebook)

Seriously though, I think it’s about time I spoke to you about my FLAJ problem. While I’m sure those of you who know me well are intimately aquainted with it, I thought I should document it for posterity. So when I’m in the throes of senile dementia I can look back on all this and think things like ‘wow, this kid needs to improve her grammar’.

So what’s this FLAJ problem? That’s what you’re wondering. That’s pretty much the first thing you ask everyone, I’m sure.

Well, FLAJ is my acronym. Despite being voted ‘Best Memory: Malvern 2011’ I lack the talent of remembering lists. And, well, ‘problems I am bringing to Berlin’ is quite some list. So I created an acronym to help me deal with it.

F is for friends

I have no friends. I mean, I have you guys, obviously, but none of you live here, you idiots. So because all of my friends rudely opted not to live in the same country as me (except Sophie, but I’ll save that for another post), I am a loner. I mean, obviously, it has it’s upsides. Some things are better with just one person… such as monologues.

Objective one: find people. Meet people. Get coffee with people.

L is for Language

Me: ‘I’m moving to Germany’

Anyone else: ‘So, you speak German, yeah?’

Things which have so far confused me: adverts, street signs, grafitti, packaging, men on the u-bahn platform giving me directions, women in the bank giving me directions, the Germans in my hostel room having a long chat…

Things which have so far confused Germans: me.

Objective two: learn more German.

A is for Apartment

Right now I am looking for somewhere to live. A shared flat in Kreuzberg ideally. I’d prefer to live with people who speak English so that I am not living in a permanent state of confusion, but we’ll see what happens to be honest.

Objective Three: find a flatshare.

J is for JOB

No. Not that kind of job (seriously, someone just offered me one in exchange for a cigarette… actually that should be ‘wanted me to offer him one’). But you know, an actual means of earning money, which doesn't involve sexual activity. That, for me, would be the piece of the puzzle that makes this whole thing make sense.

Anyone else: ‘so! You have a job there! That makes sense’.

You know? No. You don’t know. You never moved somewhere where didn’t know anyone, couldn’t speak the language, didn’t have anywhere to live and didn’t have a job.

Objective four: find a job


As a long-ago-ex slowly asked questions about every aspect of my move, I slowly answered and explained ‘I’m not taking any solutions with me to Berlin, only problems’. And he, knowing me well, responded ‘Ah, like the rest of your life then!’

But I would rather think of it as an American (who didn’t know my name, par for the course with travellers, and called me by my place of origin) put it:

‘You’ve got some balls London. You’ve got some balls.’