This all really started in July of 2024. My wife and I were living in Minneapolis, she had recent accepted a position at a university in Germany, and we had been selling 90% of our worldly possessions to make international marginally more affordable. One of the most difficult sales, was that of my PC. I have been building and upgrading my own PC's for 15 years now, and this was the first time in a very very long time that I would not have a PC of any kind. But, shipping it internationally was more likely to damage it, and we didn't know what our living situation was going to be like for a while, so off it went.

(note. I will be using $ instead of € because this is an American laptop. Just know that all prices are actually in Euros.)

Fast forward to November of 2024. We've been in Germany for a month now. Finding apartments in Berlin is EXTREMELY difficult, and I wont be able to work until I find an English-only position, or I reach B1 fluency in German, neither is proving easy. So rather than purchase another PC, I decide to buy a laptop. I already have a shitty old laptop, but it only has 8GB of RAM, and can therefor barely run the bloatware that has become modern software and internet browsers. I spend a week researching, and eventually settle on a Dell G16 laptop. It has good reviews, and Dell's support ranks well. Having never purchased an assembled device before, I figure this is good enough, and place the order. It comes out to just under $1,900 with taxes and a backpack. I also purchase an $80 cooling pad because I need to baby this thing to last as long as possible.

Things are okay at first. But my first indication that something is awry is when my VR stops working 2 weeks later. I lament my bad luck, as I had made serious space and weight sacrifices when packing specifically so I could bring my VR with me, and the laptop I selected was specifically VR-rated. I tried contacting Steam support, but they refused to help because "The Valve Index is not officially supported on laptops." So fuck me. A $1900 laptop with a $1000 digital paper weight. Oh well. Life goes on. Then about 5 months later, I start noticing other issues. It's running slower, crashing often, and degrading to the point where even basic web browsing causes system instability. I start doing some serious investigation to figure out how to fix it. I find my way to the Dell IT website, and the majority of suggestions point out that my specific model had a BIOS issue, and to download a BIOS updater. I'm nervous, because I know how hairy BIOS updates can be, but I provided my devices SN, and this is the BIOS update file it recommends.

In the mean time, I start looking for ways to contact Dell IT. I try calling them, but there is no English option. I try emailing them, and they never respond. I spend literal days trying to contact them, and never succeeding. So I return to the BIOS update, and send it through. That was the last day the laptop was usable to any extent.

The update failed. And when the laptop booted back to the windows log in screen, I had literally no functional access. The keyboard no longer worked, nor did any of the external USB ports. The mousepad worked, but without the ability to type in my password, I was soft locked on the login screen. While I continued to search for ways to contact Dell, I also started looking up consumer protections in Germany. I was delighted to find that Germany may have the strongest consumer protection laws of any country.

Eventually, I found how to contact Dell. Through WhatsApp. Which appears to be literally the only way to contact them. I initiated contact with them, explaining everything that had happened, then politely asked for a refund, as German law supports "Withdrawal from a contract when defects are extensive and repairs are unreasonable." I figured the extent of the issues supported this. Dell disagreed. I spent a week talking to them back and forth. I went to Reddit, where I was summarily told to shut up, be happy with whatever service Dell wanted to provide me, and stop complaining. I continued searching, and was unable to find a single instance of a consumer actually managing to withdraw right from the start. Rather, the typical MO is to repair or replace a device twice, before refunds are offered.

So, I accepted my mistake, and asked Dell for a replacement device. As this is very explicitly stated in German law. When a device has defects within the first 12 months of purchase, it is automatically assumed to be manufacturer error, unless definitively proven otherwise. When a manufacturer error is identified, the consumer may choose replacement or repair. The supplier may only refuse the consumers desired remedy if it would cause unfair or unreasonable cost to the supplier. This is not interpretation, that is very clearly worded.

So, I asked Dell for a replacement. They said no. I asked how they could justify refusing German consumer law. They said their corporate policy aligned with international law, and did not allow replacements of devices as old as mine...

Again, I spent a week arguing back and forth, being ignored, receiving hundreds of empty apologies, until I finally got to talk to a manger. On the phone, he exclaimed that they were only refusing to replace the device because it wasn't obvious that it was, in fact, manufacturer error. I reiterated that it is automatically assumed to be unless otherwise proven, and he asked how it could be proven if I wasn't willing to send it in for repairs. I responded by stating there is a big difference between asking me to send the device for repairs, and inspection. I agreed that I would send the device in for inspection, with the promise that it would not simply be repaired and sent back. He agreed.

2 weeks later, I received the "repaired" device. I was pissed, but was looking forward to the headache to be done with once and for all. I set the repair certificate aside, and turned on the computer, to find that literally nothing had been repaired. It was in the exact same useless state as it had been before. I once again contact Dell, and ask why they lied and repaired the device, and why they didn't actually repair the device. I once again demanded a replacement, since they already showed their total incompetence in an obviously failed repair that was certified functional. Once again, they refused.

They offered another repair, and promised that if the second repair failed, they would replace the device. Without any other directions to take, I accepted. This time, they sent a repair tech to my home. He replaced several parts, showed me that it was functional in the BIOS, then left. Once he was out the door, I booted it to the windows log in, and the issue persisted. No keyboard, no USB. But, at least I could get to the BIOS now. It had been impossible before, as the F10 key was not recognized during start-up. I try to reset the device to factory default, and it fails. The device no longer has wifi access.

I spend a few minutes trying to reset, update, refresh, etc, and eventually discover that the power button itself is now broken. I can only turn the device on by awkwardly smashing and wiggling the power button around. But turning it off, which requires a 5-10 second press, is impossible. Also, it has a built-in battery. Meaning once it turns on, it's literally impossible to turn off until the battery drains.

I contact Dell once again, and explain the astounding lengths of this debacle, and this time dig my heels in. "Under §440 BGB I am legally entitled to withdraw from a contract after 2 failed repair attempts. This constitutes the second fail. And the device is now both an actual safety hazard, due to its inability to be turned off." Dells response? "No."

That was 2 weeks ago. Every other day they tell me "We are working on figuring out how to repair your device." When I ask what that means, and how they can figure out how to repair a device sitting in my living room, the only response is "We're working on it." and "We have all the information we need." So I contacted a lawyer today, and have a primary consultation in 2 weeks. I told Dell again that I had contacted a lawyer and planned on taking legal action. Their response was, once again, "Thank you for your patience, we are working on repairing your device."

A multi-billion dollar company stole my money, gave me a defective chunk of plastic, pretended to repair it, then gave me the silent treatment when I asked for a refund. I tried to get support on r/Dell and was told to shut up and be happy with whatever Dell offered. I sought advice on r/GermanLawAdvice, and only got a response from a single person, that happened to agreed that Dell was legally obligated to replace the device, before the trolls from r/Dell followed me there to bury the post.

TLDR; Purchased a €1,900 laptop from Dell. Laptop broke in 9 months. Dell failed to repair it twice. Now refuses to speak to me after I demanded a refund under German law.

Hello peeps. I’m part of a small DnD 5e group that plays through Roll20 and Discord every Sunday at the mentioned time (8 to 13 GMT). It’s only 4 players and the DM, so quite tight-knit. However, one of our players has begun to attend less frequently due to life doing what life does. So, we’ve decided to try bringing in an additional person.

The person we’re looking for is an adult (our current age range is 34 to 50), that enjoys working as a team. They should enjoy a decent mix of combat and RP, with combat being a little more common than RP. They can give and take good-natured jokes, and don’t have any hard triggers.

While the campaign does not focus on any taboo or uncouth topics (Our DM is a father of 3, often playing with a newborn in his lap) we did genuinely consider slavery as a viable business choice. At the beginning of the campaign, the group found themselves caught by slavers. The rogue managed to free the group, and we quickly took ownership of the vessel. Although we did finally agree to free the captives, played with the idea of becoming slavers ourselves. Recently, we have begun developing a ring of Dwarven smugglers, spies, and thieves. The group is very much morally grey, at best.

The current characters are:

A necromancer Elf, quite dry and academic.

A paladin Half-Orc, the friendly giant of the group, illiterate, heart of gold, rarely understands what’s going on.

An illusionist wizard Human, in his 70’s or 80’s, the character owned by the player that shows up less frequently. We have canonically decided this is because he has become addicted to pixie dust (DND Meth) and wanders off for days at a time before finding his way back.

A rogue Half-Orc, military raised and very curt and direct.

If this sounds like a group you’d like to be a part of then either reply to this post, or shoot me a DM. No experience necessary. All races, creeds, genders, and beliefs welcome. We’re more interested in being able to have a laugh and play some fantasy absurdities. Most official 5e content is available for use, with Artificers being the only hard-banned class.

Hello peeps. I’m part of a small DnD 5e group that plays through Roll20 and Discord every Sunday at the mentioned time (8 to 13 GMT). It’s only 4 players and the DM, so quite tight-knit. However, one of our players has begun to attend less frequently due to life doing what life does. So, we’ve decided to try bringing in an additional person.

The person we’re looking for is an adult (our current age range is 34 to 50), that enjoys working as a team. They should enjoy a decent mix of combat and RP, with combat being a little more common than RP. They can give and take good-natured jokes, and don’t have any hard triggers.

While the campaign does not focus on any taboo or uncouth topics (Our DM is a father of 3, often playing with a newborn in his lap) we did genuinely consider slavery as a viable business choice. At the beginning of the campaign, the group found themselves caught by slavers. The rogue managed to free the group, and we quickly took ownership of the vessel. Although we did finally agree to free the captives, played with the idea of becoming slavers ourselves. Recently, we have begun developing a ring of Dwarven smugglers, spies, and thieves. The group is very much morally grey, at best.

The current characters are:

A necromancer Elf, quite dry and academic.

A paladin Half-Orc, the friendly giant of the group, illiterate, heart of gold, rarely understands what’s going on.

An illusionist wizard Human, in his 70’s or 80’s, the character owned by the player that shows up less frequently. We have canonically decided this is because he has become addicted to pixie dust (DND Meth) and wanders off for days at a time before finding his way back.

A rogue Half-Orc, military raised and very curt and direct.

If this sounds like a group you’d like to be a part of then either reply to this post, or shoot me a DM. No experience necessary. All races, creeds, genders, and beliefs welcome. We’re more interested in being able to have a laugh and play some fantasy absurdities. Most official 5e content is available for use, with Artificers being the only hard-banned class.

Hello peeps. I'm part of a small DnD 5e group that plays through Roll20 and Discord every Sunday at the mentioned time (8 to 13 GMT). It's only 4 players and the DM, so quite tight-knit. However, one of our players has begun to attend less frequently due to life doing what life does. So, we've decided to try bringing in an additional person.

The person we're looking for is an adult (our current age range is 34 to 50), that enjoys working as a team. They should enjoy a decent mix of combat and RP, with combat being a little more common than RP. They can give and take good-natured jokes, and don't have any hard triggers.

While the campaign does not focus on any taboo or uncouth topics (Our DM is a father of 3, often playing with a newborn in his lap) we did genuinely consider slavery as a viable business choice. At the beginning of the campaign, the group found themselves caught by slavers. The rogue managed to free the group, and we quickly took ownership of the vessel. Although we did finally agree to free the captives, played with the idea of becoming slavers ourselves. Recently, we have begun developing a ring of Dwarven smugglers, spies, and thieves. The group is very much morally grey, at best.

The current characters are:

A necromancer Elf, quite dry and academic.

A paladin Half-Orc, the friendly giant of the group, illiterate, heart of gold, rarely understands what's going on.

An illusionist wizard Human, in his 70's or 80's, the character owned by the player that shows up less frequently. We have canonically decided this is because he has become addicted to pixie dust (DND Meth) and wanders off for days at a time before finding his way back.

A rogue Half-Orc, military raised and very curt and direct.

If this sounds like a group you'd like to be a part of then either reply to this post, or shoot me a DM. No experience necessary. All races, creeds, genders, and beliefs welcome. We're more interested in being able to have a laugh and play some fantasy absurdities. Most official 5e content is available for use, with Artificers being the only hard-banned class.

Tuesday.

Carla Evans enjoyed her simple life. After retiring four years ago, she spent most of her time in her little garden or visiting with old friends. She had moved into a quaint cottage only 3 years ago, so naturally had yet to finish unpacking. Today was the day, she was finally going to tackle the last unopened box. She had a spot all prepared for it, a rosewood cabinet with clear glass doors. Perfect to display and organize the letters and postcards she had received over her life. She always liked letters, they were like little birthday presents. Little stories written by those who may otherwise never write. As she got older, she received fewer and fewer letters, which made each one all the more precious.

The box had been placed somewhat awkwardly during the move, as she had made the decision to downsize after moving in. Perhaps not her wisest decision, but she was determined to take life as slow as possible now that she no longer had a schedule to keep. She retrieved her favourite stool, and placed it firmly at the bottom of her dressing room shelves. Bracing herself with both hands on the sturdy wood, she hoisted herself up. Rather pleased with her impressive vigor despite her age, she reached up to collect the box of memories. It was heavier than she expected. She wondered briefly if perhaps they had multiplied, as the alternative explanation, that she had gotten older, was clearly impossible. Still filled with the pride of success, she gingerly stepped off the stool. Her foot met solid ground. Just one more step, and she could start. However, as her trailing foot left the safety of the stool, it collided ever so gently with her other leg. A silly mistake. Someone as agile and healthy as her should have been more careful.

Carla dropped the box as she tipped backwards. “Oh drat, now I’ll have to gather them before I can sort them,” she thought to herself. She did manage to find a step. Unfortunately, the one that followed was not quite fast enough to find its place.

She landed on something soft, albeit a little lumpy. Her heart sank, as the worried realization that she might have just damaged some of her memories dawned on her. Finding her bearings and sitting upright, she pivoted to see the consequences of her choices. To her great surprise, she hadn’t damaged a single letter. Or, more accurately, she had no idea where the letters were. She reached down to take one of the Tuesdays in her hands. It was a strange thing. Small, shriveled, smelling slightly sweet and of forgotten memories. She stole a closer look, and saw a little boy lying in bed. His mother sat beside him, replacing the ice bag on his head. Carla smiled at the little boy’s memory. For surely, this was not a Tuesday his mother would have forgotten.

She delicately placed the Tuesday beside her before absently reaching for another. This one felt quite a bit heavier in her hands. A girl was walking through a school hallway as she overheard some classmates talking about her. The gossip was not kind. Carla gave the little day an empathetic smile, tinged with second-hand melancholy. She hoped the girl was okay and had grown up to be happy. She laid the Tuesday aside, apart from the previous. They were both from children, but they didn't seem similar enough to place together. She reached for another. This one felt familiar. Without looking at it, she was certain she had held this Tuesday before. Somewhere warm. Eyes closed, she brought it up to her nose and breathed deep. The aroma of fresh coffee with a hint of cardamom greeted her like an old friend. Toasted sesame seeds, dried spices, and fresh bread. This was her own forgotten memory. It seemed to shrink in size as she breathed it in. Her eyes weren't necessary to see this one. It had been the fourth day of her trip to Istanbul. She had spent most of it, sipping coffee on the rooftop cafe. Eventually, wandering through a market to browse. A deep sense of satisfaction washed through her. It had been a lovely Tuesday. She was almost surprised that she had forgotten it at all. Although, she supposed that with so many days lived, it was inevitable that some would slip through the gaps. And, seemingly, all the Tuesdays at least, ended up here.

Carla pushed herself to her feet and pulled out the small length of red string she always kept in her pocket. A quick bow to tie up her hair, and she set her determination to organize and catalogue every single one. After all, if her own forgotten date could give her such a deep sense of contentment, surely others might find use for these too.

Pulling up a seat, she began looking at each and every Tuesday laid before her. One by one, she sorted each into piles that grew steadily larger. She started simple. Tuesdays forgotten because they were sad. Tuesdays forgotten even though they were happy. Tuesdays forgotten during sickness. Tuesdays that felt like they were trying to be remembered, but weren't. The piles eventually proved to be insufficient. Temporarily abandoning the unsorted pile, she placed each Tuesday trying to be remembered on the table, spreading them out past the horizon. She tried sorting them alphabetically, but quickly realized the T section may become unwieldy. Finally, she settled on sorting them by importance. She wasn't entirely sure how to rank the importance of each Tuesday, but she was content to try her best and see how it turned out.

At some point, she realized there was a man standing on the other side of the window. Curious, she put down the Tuesday spent shopping and gestured towards him. He responded with a smile, put down his own project, and opened the window. "Hello. Lovely day isn't it?" Carla stopped to think about an answer. She hadn't really considered the weather. But as she looked around, she had to agree. "Why yes, it is actually. Nice to meet you by the way, my name is Carla Evans. Sorry to bother you, but might I ask what you're building in there?" The man beamed, clearly excited to talk about his work. "Oh, it's quite fascinating. I'm building consensus. You see, this one is shaped a little strange, almost like it's incomplete. So it's my job to decide if it's part of a larger structure, or if it needs to be trimmed back to fit. It's quite tricky though! I can't go around trimming parts that are meant to be there!" Carla was immediately intrigued. "That seems quite difficult! What do you do once you decide whether to trim them, or keep them as is?" "Ah, well that's the most challenging part! You see, these come in batches, and they all have to fit together. Occasionally, it looks impossible! But more often than not, I just need to look closely at their shape. What initially seems conflicting, may just be angled strangely." Eventually, both realized they had become so engrossed in their conversation that Simon had forgotten to introduce himself. Carla poured them both tea and laid out some little cakes. They sat for a while, discussing organization techniques, interesting observations, and favourite foods. Carla remarked on the many simple yet interesting days she had watched, while Simon told her about some of the stranger beliefs he had come across. Many of which seemed all but impervious to his attempts at trimming them.

As the conversation quieted, the pair bid each other a warm farewell, both expressing a genuine desire to meet again. Carla turned to face her task, filled with a renewed sense of satisfaction and purpose. She had learned some tricks from Simon that she was eager to try. First off, rather than using a filing cabinet and table, she brought out a large canvas. The Tuesdays worked wonderfully, spreading smooth. They weren't as distinct from each other as she had originally thought. Speaking with Simon had allowed her to see a bigger picture. Slowly, each painting took shape, populated and coloured by innumerable forgotten Tuesdays. Whenever she thought a canvas was full, she would set it aside. Only to find another day whose absence made it incomplete. On and on Carla painted, her home becoming a gallery of life's lost moments.

Finally, Carla sat down for a rest. Her field of view filled with an endless sea of brush strokes and memories. She wiped the sweat from her brow, satisfied with a job well done, and took a deep breath. Just as she was thinking about having a little snack, a knock came from the door. She hadn't been expecting visitors, but certainly wasn't opposed to sharing a meal with another stranger. The woman on the other side, however, was not a stranger.

Carla welcomed her Grandmother into her home, with a heart overflowing. They embraced. A deep familiar warmth filled Carla's bones, touching places she hadn't realized were in need of it. She looked wonderful. Healthy, happy, almost glowing. Carla offered her a seat, and the conversation flowed like wine. Which, in Carla's home, meant generously. They spoke on every subject, the words sprawling and spiraling in every direction, to every topic. They talked about memories, family, friends, loves, fears, desires. Carla couldn't remember when last she felt such a deep, safe, contentment, and hoped it was on a Tuesday.

She eventually showed her Grandmother through her little home gallery. Thousands upon thousands of paintings. Each one a masterpiece. Each one a collection of human nature in all its quirks and strangeties. Even those that displayed pain, or sadness, had their own beautiful dignity. Not to be glorified, or celebrated. Just to be witnessed. Carla believed it was important that even the less pleasant work had its place in her gallery. Excluding them would make it feel unbalanced. She had to admit, she didn't particularly enjoy making them, or even viewing them, but she knew deep down it was important.

Carla and her Grandmother walked unhurriedly through the gallery, stopping at every single painting to talk about it. Until, at last, they had viewed every single piece, spoken at length about every single topic, and finally felt as though they had properly caught up. Before her grandmother bid her farewell, she asked, "Would you like to see my garden?"

Carla was taken aback. They had managed to speak about everything, and yet there was somehow more to talk about. "I would absolutely love that, yes please!" Her grandmother led the way through the front door, just a few steps down the street, to a familiar little home. She walked through a familiar living room, with the smell of roses and perfume calling back several Tuesdays. Out through the back door, lay row upon row of flowers of every colour, shape, and scent. Her grandmother placed a wide brimmed hat on her golden hair, and slipped on a pair of gardening gloves.

"Would you like to help me? It's been a while since I've tended it." Carla beamed. Many of her fondest memories were of helping her grandmother tend her flower garden. Her grandmother, who seemed somewhat taller now, placed an identical hat on Carla's head. They worked through the fields, the sun felt warm against her face, with the gentle breeze keeping her cool. They worked in silence. Having already spoken, there was no space between them needing to be filled. Her grandmother trimmed the fears, doubts, and anxieties off the budding flowers. Carla followed behind, pulling up any lies and deceits that attempted to take root, then collecting all the discards to add to the compost pile. After finishing one row, the pair stood tall and looked back at their work. It was at this point, Carla noticed something. "They're all so young, just starting out."

Her grandmother nodded, carefully removing a withered suspicion from an otherwise healthy bud. "That's right. This soil is wonderful for budding flowers, but many of them don't last long. And once they reach a certain age, I bring them to my neighbor. He makes lovely little vases for them." She pulled a trowel from her gardening apron and gestured towards a flower in an adjacent row. "In fact, I think that one is just about ready. We can deliver it now if you'd like." Carla nodded gleefully, nearly giving herself over to bouncing on her toes. Her grandmother carefully inspected the blooming flower, before gingerly lifting its patch of soil out of the ground. It looked perfect, Carla couldn't see a single blemish or weed. "Would you like to carry it for me?" Carla extended her cupped hands, intensely focused on the extremely important task she had been given. The soil was warm between her fingers, and rather than feeling heavy, it made her lighter than she had felt without it. It smelled lovely, and made her feel giddy and light-headed in the most wonderful way.

Her Grandmother led the way back through her home, and across the street. There was no door, just a curtain of shells and beads. Carla was greeted with the musical sounds of a rain stick as she passed through it. The inside of the home was messy, disorganized, and beautiful. Every wall lined with windows, shelves, and potted flowers. In the center of the room sat a man at a pottery wheel. He looked up to the tinkle of music, and offered a warm smile to the pair. "Hello Eleanor, how are you doing?" Carla's Grandmother responded with a radiant smile that made Carla want to giggle. "I'm quite wonderful Jacob, thank you for asking! I'm here with my Grand Daughter today, and she's been kind enough to help carry this for me." Jacob approached them. He smelled like earth and charcoal. Carla liked him. He reached out to take the flower from her, hands still covered in wet clay. "Oh beautiful! I think this one is going to be especially hearty!" He brought it back to the wet vase still on his pottery wheel, and gently placed it inside the still-soft clay. Carla looked on, somewhat confused, and asked, "Doesn't it have to dry first?"

Jacob gave her a wide grin. "Clever girl! Yes, I imagine that most pottery should be dried, or fired, before being used. But these feel a little different. The vase needs a chance to understand the flower in order to hold it best. It will eventually harden into something that keeps it safe." Carla looked around the studio. She couldn't count how many flowers in pots there were. Many had long since hardened, and shone brilliantly in the sun. Their vases old, weathered, but beautiful. Others seemed to be withering before the clay had started to dry. She approached one flower, it was beginning to wilt, despite the clay having already set. A crack had begun to form in it, and was slowly spreading.

"Can't you fix it?" She desperately wanted to make it whole again. It felt unfair that such a beautiful thing should fail over such a little crack. He comforted her with a wistful smile, and a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Occasionally. Often all it takes is a little bit of extra attention and they can regain their strength. But that doesn’t help the ones planted with weeds in their roots, which eventually spread and form cracks." Carla felt a momentary pang of guilt. "Does that mean, maybe we did a bad job of helping them grow?" "No, I don't think so." He responded with reassuring kindness. "You can't always see problems from the surface. All you can do is your best."

Carla frowned. This was such a little crack, it seemed unfair that such a beautiful thing should break over such a little problem. Surely there was a way to fix it. She stared at the minor flaw, demanding it reveal the solution. And to Carla's delight, she emerged the victor. The realization took her quickly, and without ceremony. She begged their pardon, exclaimed she would be back soon, before turning on her heels and running full speed through the musical beads. She dashed through her front door, and searched her gallery for a specific painting. It only took a moment to find it, familiar as she was with her own work. A large, ornate painting of quiet moments shared. She gently removed it from its hanging, and lifted one of the Tuesdays off the canvas. Cradling it in her arms, she walked back to Jacob's studio. Once inside, she approached the cracked vase, and tenderly applied her precious cargo across the surface and in the cracks. There was no immediate change, although it felt sturdier now. "Do you think that will fix it?" Carla asked Jacob. "I don't know, but it definitely helped."

The three spoke only briefly, before Carla finally decided to return home. She was starting to miss her gallery, and her paintings. And now she could see the usefulness of her task. The trio bade each other farewell, and returned to their respective homes. Carla continued her paintings in her ever expanding gallery. Occasionally visiting her Grandmother, Jacob, or Simon. It didn't take long for her to meet more people from her little community. One of her closest neighbours was a young man named Christopher, who balanced when to speak hard truths against silence. And a red-haired woman who liked to weave cultures and communities. She formed a special bond with the man who braided conversations between old friends, as he was always looking for more forgotten Tuesdays. And as Carla painted, and her community grew, she slowly began seeing some of her old letters appearing in her pile. One after another, finding their way to a canvas, or a vase, or a braid. And although it was a strange sensation painting others memories of herself, it was, after all, the nature of all Tuesdays to eventually be forgotten.

As an English speaker learning German, I face endless confusion and frustration with many of the short question words that are "False Friends"

Such as:

Wer (where) - Actually means who.

Wo (Who) - Actually means where.

Wie (We) - Actually means how.

Was (was) - Actually means what.

Also (also) - Actually means so.

Will (will) - Actually means to want.

And the completely arbitrary gender assignments!

For example.

The year is: Das Jahr, a neuter word.

The month is: Der Monat, a masculine word.

And the week is: Die Woche, a feminine word.

And then there's directly counter-intuitive examples of words that seem like they Should be a gender other than what they are, such as:

The little girl - Das Mädchen (Neuter, not feminine)

Breasts - Der Busen (Masculine! Boobs is masculine!)

Person - Die Person (Feminine! Why isn't this word neuter?!"

I know Anki is the most popular by far, but what else does everyone else use? I'm currently listening to a Mass Effect Legendary playthrough in German. I use https://yourdailygerman.com/ to learn grammar. And I made a custom app to help me learn vocabulary in a way I find a bit easier than Anki.

What does everyone else use?

I moved to Germany about a year ago, so my reasons are pretty obvious. Why are you learning your target language?

Good afternoon everyone. I saw that Lemmy.zip didn't have a language learning community, so I decided to make one to give a home to my little language learning app. I made it for myself, because I struggle with Anki, but realized other people might find it useful too. Anyway, whether it's German, or English, or Punjabi, I hope you'll join us in complaining how difficult it is! Or bragging about how easy it is, if you're one of THOSE people.

Hello all. I noticed there was no language learning community on Lemmy.zip, so I decided to make one. I was recently informed that there is a single one over @sopuli.xyz but I'll keep this one around, unless it it fizzles to nothing. I look forward to meeting people that are trying to learn a language for one reason or another. I made a simple vocabulary app to help focus on the words I struggle the most on, and if there's any request, I'd be happy to modify it to work for any languages.

Hello. I decided to make this community, since I didn't see any that related to learning languages. I currently speak English as a native speaker, and I'm working on A1 German. I made this simple web app to help me practice vocabulary. I find most flashcard apps to lack repetition on weaker words, so I made one that naturally focuses on the words you struggle the most with.