Ciao! Hallo! Tschüs! Hi! ^_^

My name's Griselda :) ! I like my name. It means something like "dark fight". It's better than Rosa, anyway. That means "rose", which I think is nice, but suuuuper boring. I don't even particularly like roses. They're pretty, sure, but still...I prefer daisies. Or (chamolime chamlim)chamomile. Rosa was supposed to be my name, but thankfully it's not. It'd be an extra long name Griselda-Rosa Vargas-Beilschmidt. It's long enough now, with only Griselda. So I have a lot of nicknames:

- My friends usually call me Gris, Grissy or Grissie. (They have a lot of accents, so it sounds different from each of them.)

- My Vati sometimes calls me "liebling" or "Kätzchen", because I like cats. I mean, I like animals in general, and both cats and dogs. We have a lot of them - 3 dogs and a cat. Her name's Mitzi and she's mine because I adopted her when I was six. Plus, she likes me the best.

- My friend Fred will sometimes call me a "halfling" in a good manner. That's because I'm half German and half Italian! Fred was actually the one who gave me this pretty notebook (with daisies on the cover!) for Christmas and said "You could write here. I'm sure you have a lot of memorable moments to capture." I like Fred a lot. He's Canadian, and not breaking clichés. He's nice and polite - unless you piss him off. He likes playing hockey, riding a moose (!) and nature. Also I think he's, like, addicted to maple syrup. (Like I'm the one to talk to, honestly. I'm hopelessly addicted to pasta sauce. Everyone's got their thing, no?)

- When I'm in trouble, Papa will use my whole name. The moment he does, I just know. I messed up. Not that it happens that often, but still. 

- From the moment my American friend Ashleigh learned that potato gnocchi (a type of pasta) exist, she wouldn't call me anything else.

So that's about my name. I like it. It's kind of badass. The surname is a bit complicated, however, for in german, you read "v" as "f"(or "ph" in english). But even if people do get that right, most of the not-native-german-speakers have NO CLUE how to read the Beilschmidt. They're just lost. I'm glad at least Fred (the Canadian) can speak german, so he can read it fine. Don't ask me how Fred learned fluent german. When people ask him, he just pulls out his phone and plays the song that goes "baby I was booorn this waay". Fred's lucky. His name is Frederick Williams, so he's fine, even in german.

Who's not so lucky is my cousin. Or- he doesen't say we're cousins, but I (and other people) think it's obvious. His name is -brace yourselves- Gabriel Antonio Fernandez-Carriedo (if he'd admitted we're related, he could've had a "Vargas" in there, too). His dad calls him just "Junior", though. And he hates it :)

Enough about my name, though. I hear Papa putting out ingredients for pasta! Well looks like I'm done for todaaaaaaa-

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Let me know your opinions in the comments! :) 

(Don't worry the shipping will come eventually.)

From the diary of Griselda Vargas-BeilschmidtWhere stories live. Discover now