Hammi hararra nar.
08.07.2004 - 4:34 p.m.
Seventeen hours and I'm on a plane home.
My grandfather in Illinois died and the folks want me home for the week.
I don't want to leave. Seeing my now-familiar cast of characters on the way out of the village this morning got me all scared that something super-dumb will happen while I'm state-side and I won't be able to come back. Like I'll break my leg in the dryer or something. Peace Corps policy is if you can't walk, you can't work.
Nervous.
It's been exactly five months. Simultaneous eternity and blink. Five months seems pansy. I kinda wanted to wait a good year or so before I visited. I do need new sandels, though.
Oh crap, and beef. I need beef. And promise you won't tell anyone here, but some pork ribs are going into my stomach. No goat for a week. No goat for a week. No goat for a week.
I miss my goats.
See you soon, fools.
.......
Letzter Funf
In pursuit of brevity. - 20.07.2007
Re: Let's all watch a girl get beaten to death. - 14.07.2007
We're not getting there. - 14.07.2007
Somehow I lost all my Dropkick Murpheys. And this on the eve of my chowder va-ca-tion. - 02.07.2007
I need to write him a letter. - 21.04.2007
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