you can take the girl out of Iowa...

It occurred to me last night when Brad stopped me on my sleepwalk to the kitchen that my dreams are being haunted by my mother's (and her mother's and her mother's mother's) words: "Never invite people over during dinnertime unless you plan to serve dinner." It also occurred to me that these Midwestern teachings shouldn't have to apply in Southern India, on the hottest day of my life. Yet, here I am, slaving away over the stove, stopping only to write this important message: come hungry party people. There will be food.

BASEA

We're 14 days away from our next great adventure! We're winging it this time, so in the days leading up to the trip, where I'd normally be reading, researching, planning and booking, I am now just making cartoons.

We're all set to arrive in Bangkok on the 12th of June and leave August 1st. In between our "plan" is to see Thailand, Laos, Cambodia and Vietnam. Then find a beach.

Instead of my usual arrowed map, I give you this:


Any suggestions?

cyclone

Cyclone Laila struck yesterday, resulting in quite an adventure for yours truly. We woke up without electricity Wednesday morning (or at least I did. Brad already knew the electricity was out because he witnessed the transformer in front of our house blow up in the middle of the night. Somehow I slept through all that). Anyway, we had no way to make coffee and no good way to get to school. With the driver on his day off, we had to buck up and trudge through the rain for a rickshaw. After a wet ride we made it to school and to the coffee shop, where after a few sips we remembered that during heavy rain our roof leaks, and that our TV sits right under the leak.
Despite the numerous power cuts at school I got through my morning classes. Then I stepped into the hallway and got drenched. Around 11 am the storm was in full-swing, ripping up bulletin boards and soaking textbooks left on top of lockers.
It was lunch time, and in that hour I knew what I had to do. I had to rescue the TV.
The rickshaw driver I finally found outside of school had rigged up some leather flaps to protect us from the rain. But they weren't quite sturdy enough in the wind and I ended up getting pelted by a big, wet, dirty piece of something the whole ride home. I battled with it for a while, then gave up. I looked around and thought about the series of decisions that had led up to that point, and decided I had no one to blame but myself. So I sat there and took the abuse.
When we got to the turnoff to our house, we saw it was completely flooded with water and other muck. But by that point I was like, whatever, and told the driver to go for it. While we were vigorously bobbling our heads at each other, another rickshaw came up and went for it. He was going along just fine until suddenly, whoomp, he was up to the elbows.
With the view of just the other rickshaw's roof in the rear view mirror, we turned around to look for an alternate route home. I had a vague idea of how to get there, but got lost after the second turn. We asked three people how to find our street and got three entirely different answers. Just when the driver seemed on the verge of ditching me in the middle of the road, I noticed something familiar, our neighbor's house! So, in a sing-song, I-knew-where-we-were-going-all-along-voice, I said, "Oh look, we're here!" and hopped out.
The house wasn't completely devastated, but it wasn't completely fine either. The TV was sitting in a small pool of water, the rug was soaked and the computer had tiny drops of water all over the lid. The electricity was still out, so there was no way to test for damage to the electronics. I dried off the TV and hoped for the best. I tried not to think about life without it, a future too terrible to even imagine.
The storm is passed now. Our electricity finally came on around 10 last night. The TV is still lying on the bed, tonight will be the big test. If it works, we can watch the series finale of the Sopranos, something we've been working toward for months.
If not, if not....

the end

As an adult, I look forward to an approaching June in almost the exact same way I did as a kid: with a mixture of anxiety and excitement.

Anxiety
Most of the 8th graders are "like, totally over it." Middle school that is. And of course, they should be. But I get this way every year, sending them off to high school, wondering if I did my best. Hoping they'll know enough, worrying that they'll sit, lost and confused through freshman English.

Excitement
After three years of witnessing it, I could calculate it almost to the day: the time when eighth graders, as a rule, grow fond of complaining. It becomes their new favorite hobby, the thing they love most in the world. And soon, very soon I will be free of their constant, nasally, eye-rolling whines. And...yes, this is a complaint. That's the problem, it's catching.

beard=failure

You may have noticed from the poopeye post that Brad has gone and grown a beard.

On a quick side note, I'm a little nervous that right now on the first page of the blog there are the words fart and poop. I mean, what if today is the day Martha Stewart decides to take some time to troll the internet and somehow, by some miracle, she discovers us? What will she think?! I can only hope Martha enjoys a little potty humor. That's all I can do.

Anyway...Brad has a beard. And everyone has an opinion on it. Most especially our driver, Mourli, who, this morning, focused the rearview mirror so it was just on Brad's face and began this conversation:

Mourli: Why are you no shaving? Water problem?
Brad: What?
Mourli: Your face! Your face! Why looking like that?
Brad: I'm growing a beard.
Mourli: OH, oh, oh, oh, oh hahahahahahahaha. OH!
Brad: Hey, watch the road. What's wrong with my face?
Mourli: wipes some tears from his eyes Here in India. The only persons who are having that are people who are having failure.
Brad: What?
Me: He says you look like a failure.
Brad: What?! Mourli? Come on.
lots of giggles all around
Mourli: after a few minutes No joking now. Serious. Looking very bad. Please be shaving it.

Madras Eye

Poor Brad. He's got poop in his eye. Others will tell you it's Madras Eye, and say it's caused by "bacteria" in the air, but it doesn't take long to figure out what that means. The symptoms are similar to pink eye, with a few differences: more swelling and more oozing.