glass on the windows

my teacher training center/school

today, as i waited for my trainees to complete their task of sweeping and dusting the classroom, i was approached by one of my them who has a pretty good handle on english.  though i'm often sad in the moment to put away my khmer studying, i'm always energized by the inevitably interesting conversation that happens as i engage in these short dialogues.

a few minutes in, my trainee and i had to pause our chat when the wind lifted a great deal of dirt into our faces from the pile that was being created by students sweeping the leaves and rubbish from the main thoroughfare in front of the classrooms.

as we covered our mouths from inhaling the dust, my trainee asked me "is it this dirty in america?"

well, trainee, let's consider that.

his question jogged a thought that has been bouncing around my head for the last seven months, a thought about the way that cambodians and americans conduct general life.

in cambodia, life happens outside.  

when you want to visit your friends, you usually do so while sitting outside on a concrete bench, or a low wooden table, or while lounging in a hammock.  in fact, it's customary to spend a good deal of time "sit/playing", or hanging out, with friends and family, generally out of doors.  

i don't always enjoy this aspect- sitting in the sun, under a small bit of shade, praying for a good wind to pick up, while catching up on what khmer food i like and don't like.  but, this hanging out is a crucial part of life here, and it, like most everything, happens outside.

want to visit your aunt who works at the market? you'll be chatting away in the open air market (even if it has a roof.)  grabbing a coffee with a friend? you'll enjoy it in a plastic chair outside or in a restaurant with the door flung wide open.  heading home? your windows and doors will be open to the world for a light breeze and to welcome any of those visitors coming your way.

it used to throw me for a loop when people asked me where my house was (is this safe?!) and if they could come visit.  but given that everything happens for all to see, there is practically an open door policy across the country.  stop on by!

because life in cambodia happens in open air.  eating, chatting, cooking, even showering and "using the bathroom" commonly happens out of doors.  

along with all this life happening outside comes the fact that life is there for all to see. LIFE is there for ALL to see.  cambodians may preciously guard personal opinions or thoughts, but what you ate for dinner last night, or what time you got home, or the fact that you washed ten pairs of underwear this morning is visible to all and open game for questions or discussion.

and in america, the world happens behind the doors.  when we go anywhere, we're sure to shut the door tightly behind us- don't let that air conditioned/heated air escape!  windows? open to the sun, but closed to the air.  important discussions happen at long tables in comfortable, rolling chairs.  what you ate for dinner last night is only shared if it was especially delicious- or horrendous.  and my laundry? you don't even know when if i do it!

because, of course, in america, we have specially designed areas for life outside.  sure, we'll also hang out with friends in the outdoors- on carefully constructed patios or wooden decks, in strategically placed lounging chairs, typically behind a house or a gate.

so, when my trainee asked me about dirt in america, i had to explain how dirt, swirling around us, is not a common occurrence.

i explained the glass over the windows, and the concrete paved everything with the artfully planted grassy knolls.  i didn't get into the other things- that we knock when we want to visit people and that hammocks, well, they're an art lost on the majority of americans.  that the concept of sweeping a dirt road and having to brush off your desk before sitting is an idea completely foreign to modern americans.  

america is less dusty, but also a bit less open.

so, my house is by the market, and sure come on over!  though, hammocks are sorely lacking, so feel free to bring your own.

what's your take on life outdoors versus indoors?

and have you ever written a post, uploaded pictures, labeled it, scheduled it post and view it on your "scheduled posts" page all to have it disappear ten minutes later? because that happened to me with this post and i'm still a bit angry. it's just never as eloquent the second time around, you know? 

happy friday!

and then it was leap day and i was so very excited!

so today was the illustrious leap day of the leap year, which only happens once every four years, and which excites me deep down into my marrow.

there's a lot to do today, as i'm working on a new curriculum/textbook project for the students of cambodia (new, better english learning for all!), have oodles of reservations to make for a trip to vietnam topher and i are planning, and need to pack for a wedding we're traveling to tomorrow morning!

so, please enjoy the remaining pictures from february.

happy leap year day!

and then it was hot again.

the past three days at site have been oppressively warm.  just sitting, in front of fan, for an hour produces a nice sheen of humidity-induced oil on my face.  after i've taken a shower.  it's disgusting.

(a hot shower, because it's so warm that instead of the typical 10 second blast of warm water, it lasts for a good solid two minutes.  the precise opposite of what a sweaty girl needs!)

this past sunday, we were graced with the presence of two fellow volunteers from a northern province, and they even brought with them the ingredients to make...

wait for it...

fettucini alfredo!

i ate a cream sauce! made in my own home!

which of course made me realize, damnit, i could have been buying butter and milk and bringing it with me from phnom penh this whole time? i'm a dolt.

and then! then there was spare butter so topher made cornbread tonight! from mix sent from home! and i ate it with real butter! GOBS OF BUTTER!

i nearly died of happiness.

and then today i spent two solid hours researching the exam i need to take to get an endorsement (read: certified in) early childhood and/or elementary education!  and i took a short practice test and i didn't do too shabbily!  and i'm thinking about being a teacher again!

AND I'M THINKING ABOUT TRYING TO BE A TEACHER AGAIN?!?!

and finally, i've a new, fabulous blog header, made by the incomparable IROCKSOWHAT.  honestly, girl's got so many skills, it makes me hate myself a tiny bit.

you should click over to the site if you're in google reader- you'll get to see me biking from baltimore to cambodia!

and now in other news, i have to go wash the dishes and my face again because it's oily just from writing this blog post.

cheers to your tuesday!

how much does it cost? i'll buy it.

This past weekend was a beautiful one.  It rained, sheets of rain, Friday night, clearing the way for a mostly humid-free weekend.  Now we're spending some days in the capital for training, as well as various other meetings and workshops and general busy times, which usually involves the wearing of professional clothes for at least eleven hours.  We're talking an ankle length skirt with a collared shirt, for the record. 

On Saturday, we'll hit seven months in Cambodia, which feels a bit surreal- even weirder than six months.  I'm finally reaching a place where I feel like all those observations I've jotted down about life in this little country are ready to be put into coherent words and stories and shared.  

One of the first observations I made, and still make nearly daily, are generally some amount of "in Cambodia" versus "in America."

In America, it was a given that my hair would be worn down.  In Cambodia, it's a miracle when I can leave my hair down for more than an hour.

In America, it could be a day tipping the thermometer at triple digits, but there was always the sweet respite of indoors.  Oh temperature control.  In Cambodia, every day throws the thermometer into highs and levels of humidity arrive that seemingly no one could live through day after day, and there is never the sanity of air conditioner or temperature control available.  Relief arrives via a cool breeze drifting through the leaves as you take a moment under the shade of a tree.

In America, safe and cold water is almost always free and available.  In Cambodia, safe can only be bought and cold is never guaranteed.

In America, you can run out of butter, toilet paper, and garlic and purchase all three in a one stop shop.  In Cambodia, you have to buy things at completely separate shops. Hell, in Cambodia, you don't buy toilet paper because you don't use it.  You only buy butter (real butter) in the capital.  Garlic, though, is used in everything.

And then, finally.  In America, the price is the price is the price.  In Cambodia, the price is the inflated number the seller says to see how much or little you understand about culture here.  It's the starting point.

Becuase, here, we bargain.  And it's all charming and fun at first.  And then it's stress inducing. And then it's annoying.  And then frustrating.  And then downright maddening.

Why, oh why, can't the price of my tuk tuk ride just be a fair price? Why do I have to convince you that me paying a dollar is far better than paying a dollar twenty five?  Actually, why do I have to convince you that I'm NOT going to pay five dollars, which was the first number you said?  Why do you have to comment on how far it is, or how much Khmer I know or don't know?  Why do your friends have to crowd around us while we're negotiating and laugh and tease and cajole and tell me that a dollar is not a good price and blah blah blah.

Now I understand, bargaining is what it is.  A fact of life.  It's inevitable and happening every moment, and if I greet it with a smile instead of a frown, it goes much better.

But I still wish there was just one damn price.

happiness is...hilarity is

happiness is:
realizing, for the one hundred and seventieth time, how lucky you are to have a shower.

really, that's it.

also, that maybe you've lived in your site for nearly five months, or one hundred and seventy days, already?

hilarity is:
have such an incredibly sore bum because you fell not once, but twice, in three days while getting out of the shower.

not only, but also suffering the humiliation that is your husband opening the bathroom door to see you sprawled, naked, trying not to cry because you fell really hard on your behind and it's embarrassing, hilarious and painful all in one.

happiness is:
your husband taking your challenge of "use some of these spice packets we got sent to us, yo!" to make three most delicious meal parts, one involved rendered pork fat making the most delicious green beans and carrots you've had these past seven months.

hilarity is:
wondering why you can't seem to get any of that delicious food in your mouth and then realizing that it's really happened:

you've forgotten how to use a fork and will now require a spoon for the rest of your meals forthwith.

happiness is:
planning your upcoming trip to vietnam with your husband and getting excited about train rides on soft sleeping berths and canyoning trips.

hilarity is:
getting irrationally angry at your husband because he asked you to help him plan it, when really you were trying to be all "go with the flow" for this trip and let HIM plan it, only to realize you've been pouting and maybe a bit mean when you actually wrote "plan vietnam trip" in your planner last monday and maybe you need some chocolate because your period is making you a bit crazy?

happiness is:
waking up to a gorgeous, sunny day.

hilarity is:
realizing that what was a gorgeous, sunny day to you was actually an eighty-nine degree with seventy percent humidity day.

and that's how you know that you've either a) adjusted to a new, drastically different climate or b) simply stopped trying to care about how much you sweat.

what's your happiness and hilarity for this week?

a leap year month, half gone

when i move back to america, i should think i'd like to raise a cocker spaniel and a mini pig.  they will be the best of friends and love each other forever and always.  they shall be my spaniel and pig, and i shall call them pig and pup.

here's what i've been up to so far in february, all of which can be found daily at my tumblr.

so as you can gather, this month so far has involved some vomit, baking, delicious indian food (all unrelated, except they happened consecutively), and typical cambodian days involving bikes, monks and dry rice fields ripe for the planting in coming rainy months.

how's your february so far?

pa pa pa pa pa, i want a wife...

...and my thoughts on other khmer music videos.

i'm going to come right out with it. i love khmer music videos.  i love them far more than i love american ones, and those k-pop (korean pop) music videos? don't even compare.

music videos are streaming constantly around me everyday.  on the bus, they play one of the myriad of cds compiled with 20 or so videos. in the cafe where i get pork and rice- playing behind me.  in the quickie mart where i go to drink a coca light and read for forty five minutes- on full view, playing via the surround sound.

in the car of my fellow teacher who drove topher and me to a wedding two weekends ago? playing in his 2003 toyota camry, in the small video screen where the rearview mirror used to be.

(process that one for a second.)

these videos rock because they usually tell a story.  more often than not, that story is quite tragic and ends with the singer dying in the end, but it's a great love story as it unfolds.  my favorite videos are the multi-part ones, where the boy and girl trade back and forth singing the songs as the story unfolds with one "to be continued" after the other.

a particularly awesome one involves a girl and boy falling in love while girls sings about it, then boy getting hurt while girl sings about it, and then boy almost dying but not while girl still thinks he died while boy sings about it, and then girl discovering that he is still alive only as he lays dying in the street as they sing about it.

somewhere in there, the boy dresses up like a clown and hands out free balloons but is a sad clown because the girl thinks he's dead and has found a new love.

it's amazing.

AND THEN! the other day, on the bus, i was treated to a full soap opera drama musical MOVIE!  it was so fantastical, i cannot even describe.  it featured DOPPLEGANGERS and was so fantastic. maybe the best 75 minutes on a bus i've ever experienced.

so, let's discuss my absolute favorite khmer music video.  it took me an hour to find it, and i had to google in anglicized khmer phonetics to find it, so you should watch it and enjoy it.

i think this is my favorite for a series of reasons:
1. it's hilarious and upbeat.  the guy is singing that he wants a wife, and his dad- who sells street food- is saying "with what money?"
2. it tells the story of khmer life!  he meets a girl, falls in love, has to find money, so goes to the fortune teller to find out how, uses magic to get a great huge lexus, enters a cell phone contest and WINS, meets the girls parents to tell them he wants to marry his daughter, all while upgrading via magic to the BEST red shirt i've ever seen.
3. you just need to watch it. it translates across all languages, trust me.

another one of my favorite parts about khmer music videos is how everyday life is the center- as in, this could all be happening down the street to your best friend! or, hey, even to you!  often music videos will take place in a rice field, or in a new cozy cafe in phnom penh, or the rolling hills of the beautiful northern provinces.  i like this one most because it features my favorite glorified gas station TELA MART!

and this last one is thrown in for good measure so you can see my favorite khmer singer who's quite popular- sok sophea- and enjoy the love songs of my new country.

my husband tells me he's going to share his favorite khmer music video on his blog one of these days, and when he does, you'll need to take a look.  it's awesome because it's quite....westernized.

you'll see.

how are music videos going over there in america? 


and hey, did you watch these? reactions?

to topher, on the day for out-loud-love

dear valentine (and all you other lovers who read along),

so today is our eighth valentine's day, and we celebrated by you sending me three hoops-and-yoyo e-cards using my hallmark account that i sneakily used your debit card to pay for months ago, having lunch hot and ready when i got home from teaching, and then taking on the burden of teaching our private class by yourself while i napped this weird stomach sickness away.

so, in sum, it's been great! and i didn't even mention the rose you got me OR the other awesome gifts you brought home from our students that they sent to give to me. 

today, in this public letter, i'm ready to admit to the world something that we used to battle about many moons ago.  

here and now, it shall be known that i, kate marsh, aged twenty six years, hair color brown, eye color hazel, bending towards blind with a visual acuity of 20/400, heretofore shall readily exclaim:

i do not believe you are my soul mate, topher.

for many years now, i've been trying to get you to believe in fate and soul mates and meant-to-be-ness.  but somehow, in letting the discussion lie, and letting life to take its course, i've come to realize that it must be a blue moon because you, dear sir, were right.  

i don't think there is fate. i don't think there is one person, made for me.  i don't think it was kismet that we met, or that we fell in love or that we married.  i don't think there was some stronger force at work causing our paths to cross, alighting our eyes with the recognition of a soul's true other half.

(if it was, we probably would have had that moment way back in september 2003, the two times that we met that i don't remember?)

but i do believe that i am married to the one person who can make me happiest.  i do believe that it was fantastic luck that we both chose (what seemed to me, a girl from idaho) a random college and maybe it was the funniness of life that you happened to become good friends with my good friends and eventually we met.

i do believe that you are my best friend and the person whose personality and interests and general life values align best with mine, and i do believe that when we purposely chose each other, we chose somebody whom we felt we could love, enjoy, and grow with for many years to come.

not to say that we agree on everything, and enjoy each other always.  rather, we match quite nicely because of our witty-to-us repartee and loving cajoling that lends itself to solving disagreements without major emotional damage.  we fit because we both believe that knowledge lends itself to self betterment, and self betterment in your spouse can only lead to self betterment for yourself.  we work because we both know that a marriage, and love between two people, can only flourish if both people choose to foster it with small and large displays of affection every single day.

what i think i like best about us though, and how i know we are not soul mates, is that we have grown and changed immensely in the eight years since our first valentine's day.  our opinions, our interests, our life projections and trajectory have all changed considerably since we were eighteen.

thank god.

but most important, dear non-soul-mate, i want you to know that despite how much i love baking,

i will always love you more.  

xxoo,
kate

thoughts?

of lately, timely items.

yesterday, i rode the bus (for the first time by myself!) to phnom penh.  approximately 77 minutes in, i had rediscovered the joy that is nsync's "it's gonna me be" and also was assaulted with a terrible, sickly sweet smell.

the child in the seat directly in front of me had thrown up.

we still had a good forty minutes to go, so as the stomach-convulsion-invoking scent drifted back toward me, i grabbed my cardigan to cover my face.  as i glanced around i noticed that my fellow khmer bus riders had all reached for their handy face masks they carry with them at all times and were pleasantly enjoying the ride as if nothing had happened.

have i mentioned that face masks- like the surgical ones doctors wear- are all the common rage here? for when you're sick, or afraid of getting sick, or avoiding dust, or, as it turns out, for the random horrible smell you attempt to avoid onboard a bus going to phnom penh.

in other news, the other weekend, i decided it would be easier to climb under a table instead of asking three people to stand up so i could use the restroom?

in the same vein, i am now seventeen again instead of twenty six?

and finally, you should know two incredibly important things came of the last 36 hours in phnom penh (outside of the work completed for a committee i am on, which was the purpose of the visit anyway):

one.  i ate a delicious cheesesteak. except it was on a hamburger roll? but the roll was toasted and squishy and perfect so it was ok.  and i drank a delicious free coca cola with it. yes, yes i did.

two.  i get to bake amazing things on sunday? like in a real kitchen, that is already pre-stocked with "all the necessary items to bake chocolate chip cookies" i am told.  friends, this is hands down amazing!  i have not seen butter in nearly seven months!  the heavens are opening and archangles are descending, singing their glorious heavenly strains! in the name of butter and baking!

results will be shared forthwith, as will the amazing photo i captured of my khmer friends wearing their masks, and me trying to make it work with a cardigan from old navy.

in the mean time, i am off to find macaroni and cheese with bacon. because i can when i'm in the capitol.

cheers to your weekend!

the essence of me, in blog banner form

happy tuesday all!  on this dear tuesday, i have a small quandry for my dear bloggy friends.

i recently took my blogher earnings and directly sent them from my paypal account to an incredibly talented woman's account and will soon be lucky enough to have a blog graced with a banner by the incredibleness that is irocksowhat.

however.  those of you who click through to my page know that i've gone through several (one short of half a dozen) banners in the last month, and nearly a dozen in the eighteen months of blogging.  instead of ridiculing me for such a fact, let's just chalk it up to inherent indecisiveness and a good deal of time on my hands once the sun has set, mmkay?

some past randoms:

but now.  now, we gets to be getting a glorious piece of art from a talented (and hilarious woman- you should honestly add her blog to your reader now) adorning the tops of this blog.

aaaannnndddd, here's the quandry.

i have no clue exactly what i want the banner to look like.

shocker, i know.

i've written some random ideas down, but would love your thoughts, if you'd be so willing to share.

i've thought about continuing the lightning thing.  i like the lightning because my maiden name was watts- like electricity- which was "discovered" via a kite into lightning?  but it has no other meaning than that.

other than harry potter, of course.

i've dallied with the idea of having three distinct images representing LOVE, MARRIAGE, and CAMBODIA- like a heart, flowers and a bicycle- next to a simple title.

or maybe something more visual like the city skyline from baltimore or dc on the left of the screen with a little plane hop, skip, and jumping over to an outline of angkor wat?

le sigh.  or maybe just a giant sun.  because i like suns. they make me happy. like my favorite ben franklin quote "keep in the sunlight."

jdkajflkjeiojdnfoihioqjdpoasopnkln! and now i've referenced ben franklin twice in one post? once directly and once inferencely?

i need your brilliance and ideas.  i can't just send an email back to this amazing artist that says "i have no idea!  have fun!" that's just not fair to a designer.

so.  everyone who reads this knows me either in REALZ life or in BLOGZ life, which really, is inherently the same, yeah? so you can tell me, what is the essence of me/this blog that should be captured in awesome artishness above?

please to be sharing your ideas.  or suggestions.  or anythings.

tia (thanks in advance!)

that's how it goes

Shout out to 2006!

Today, we have some very important things to discuss.

Firstly, why is the movie Batman and Robin so terrible?  Alone, you have three medium-good-in-the-right-niche actors of George Clooney, Alicia Silverstone, and Chris O'Donnell, who are not that horrible in general.  But then you put them together with really horrid dialogue and bad lighting and cheap pyro and you get what may be the worst movie in the entire Batman series franchise.

And you also get the only thing on television. And in a household wherein your husband thinks he's Bruce Wayne, loves Batman and has since his inception in the womb, you get two hours of awkward laughter and groans of lamenting.

It's really just awful, guys.

On that note, have you seen American Psycho?

(Train of thought: Batman-Christian Bale-Newsies-Opposite of Newsies-American Psycho.)

American Psycho is actually a very good movie.  Except that I saw it when I was sixteen and I should have been weirded out by it but I actually liked it?  I watched with a high school girl friend, and we both loved it, but then we also watched Fight Club and she loved it and I hated it.

Still hate it, actually. But American Psycho! Good!

Maybe it boils down to liking Christian Bale far more than I like Brad Pitt OR Edward Norton?  I don't really like Brad Pitt. He's too pretty to be attractive to me. And his eyes are tiny.

Now Harrison Ford. That's an attractive male actor I'll always love.  He's old but hot.

Other important things.

Secondly, I've been meaning to tell you about the two sides to Cambodia.  On the happy side, Cambodians are incredibly generous, giving, and helpful people. They are willing to do many things for the greater happiness of the population.  This was evident the other week when our bus broke down and all the men on the bus got out to push it so it could start again.

And then, two hours later, I was trying to get myself some really terribly almost-delicious cheeseburger and fries, and then it happened.  A body, in front of me, butting in line!  And then another! And then four total people were crushing my bones from both sides! and I remembered:

There is no concept of "line" in the 'bode.

Thirdly, Topher and I disagree about the "name" of this actor:

To le husban' he is Peter from Office Space.  To me, he is and shall always be the cute-but-in-the-end-post-it-dick Berger.

Source here

I mean, he's Berger, right?

And then, fourthly, there's the fact that I'm a an ex-underwear addict.  It's true!  If this were the basement of a church, we'd be sitting in a circle and I'd say my name was Delilah.  And I'm actually an ex-addict.  Because I used to own a ridiculous amount of underwear. I used to be proud of the number but I don't actually want to admit it.  Like, now, instead of being proud of and exclaiming how many raw-cookie-dough-cookies I DIDN'T eat, I have to think of a less embarrassing fake number of raw-cookie-dough-cookies I DID eat.

That made no sense.

But guys. I have lived for six months utilizing thirteen pairs of underwear.  Thirteen!  I'm saving sixteen other pairs. I'm not sure for what? I think I'm just so used to seeing a stockpile of underwear. I'm saving some. Like, for future me.  Because future me, she deserves some super soft never been worn underwear.  Future me should get the luxury of sweating into ultra great nearly America-smelling cotton undies.  HOORAY FOR FUTURE ME! Jealous a bit, I am, yeah.

Somehow, when I began this post I was going to tell you about how jealous I am of Topher's deodorant, his boy stuff, because it absorbs so quickly! and doesn't get stuck to the pits of shirts! and that I sneak wear it all the time!

And finally (sixthly?) I was going to expound on the amazing things that are shelf bras?  Because my boobs are so small that the built in bras in my tank tops that I wear under, well, everything, is all I need?  And I kind of wish everyone could know the joy of a supportive shelf bra?

To round this out, seventhly, Topher would also like it be quite clear that he does NOT like or endorse the movie Batman and Robin.

That's how it goes.

to topher

hey blue eyes,

i do a lot of my thinking about blog post topics while i ride buses, or bikes, or eat rice.  so, as you know, that affords me a great deal of time to brainstorm.

one of the more recent ideas that my brain derived was writing to you.  which seems so silly in actual fact, because don't i spend so much time with you already? isn't this the most time we've ever been around each other? hell, it's a crazy day if we're apart for more than four hours at a time.

thusly, it would seem pretty anti-reality to write you a little something when i could actually just tell you things anytime.  i could right this second, in fact.  tonight we watched (listened to? tolerated? ok, mocked) vanilla sky, and when it was over you couldn't believe that social network was coming up next, as you were hoping we spent the last ninety minutes dealing with tom cruise in hopes of something better.

but secretly i love the movie social network? though i kind of think this isn't a secret and you know it, but you were so kind to choose not to give me crap for it.

its the little things that make me love you.  so thanks.

a lot people might not know it, but you're actually one of my most loyal blog followers.  which i love.  my breath is usually quite bated until you give me your thoughts on my recent writings/rumblings/erklings/verbvom.  so you can imagine how hard it is on my lungs sometimes when you don't say anything until the next day.  but i always know you're going to read this.  and give me an informal rating of sorts.

sometimes you just offer me your opinion on what i wrote.  when this happens, i know you liked it and it made you think or laugh or cringe.

other times you update me on my comments, because you know that sometimes i get down when no one says anything.

my favorite is when you actually read it while i'm around and you chuckle and then i find out that that it was me, my little post, that eeked out that chuckle.

but really, i think i'm writing this (and probably more?) because even when you spend approximately nineteen hours with your husband, there are still just some things you'd like to say.  so here's the space for that.

in the hours we were apart today, you should know that i was still cleaning, like i was when you left. and in the midst, when i realized that somehow you'd caused a big ole mess by trying to make sure we had a full water filter and had to stop my cleaning (ugh!) and sop up a buttload of water from the floor.

you should know that in that moment, i made the decision to actually use both of our towels to clean up the water.  not just yours.

both of ours.

your welcome.

love,
the happiest wife who has to go watch the social network now.

happiness/hilarity is:

happiness is:

.a cold coca light.

.a cold coca regular, for that matter.

.a cold coca anything inside a mason jar.

hilarity is:

.being amazed by things like GLASS JARS.

happiness is:

.the satisfying sound of a mosquito getting electrified to death on my orange and purple mosquito racket.

.impressing ten young children with your khmer writing skills- no matter that you had to look up every single word before you wrote it.

.a long email from a good friend.

.one of your trainees confiding in you between classes.

.mascara.

(.even when everything else is sweaty, mascara is wonderful.)

.going to school with your hair down and coming home two hours later with it STILL down.

.the simplicity and brilliance of mundane tasks like labeling library books.

hilarity is:

.labeling 'see spot run' books "fiction-intermediate" with the volunteer librarian because she doesn't know any english and can't discern the difference and i don't know enough khmer to explain clearly.

happiness is:

.reading three really good books in one week.

hilarity is:

.having time to read three books in one week because classes have been cancelled for (going on) three weeks now. 

happiness is:

.michael c. hall.

hilarity is:

.apologizing to your best friend waitress at a local restaurant when you offer her some fry sauce to try, and making her puke because she hates it, and then being forgiven, though maybe feeling slightly vindicated about hating durian?

.even better, that said restaurant has been dubbed the 'not brothel' by pcvs because it, in fact, is not a brothel.

(but the place next door is.  perhaps.)

have you any happiness or hilarity for hump day?