Monday, July 21, 2008
I know I promised to talk about my husband and Abdulkarem, but I have something more pressing on my mind right now.
Today, I got pulled out of class because there is “an administrative issue” going on. However, due to privacy issues they can’t tell us what exactly is going on. Here’s what I have gathered:
1. It must be somewhat serious since we’re (all the women on the 2nd floor of Hepburn) being interviewed, individually, by someone from Public Safety.
2. I was initially told, in English by a staff member, that there had been an issue between two girls on the second floor and that they wanted to talk to us individually to find out what we know.
3. Two of my suitemates were interviewed today and apparently there was a map of the 2nd floor and they were asked to identify where people lived and where the bathrooms were. Also, they were asked if they had seen any suspicious activity, including a man in the bathroom.
So, I basically have no idea what’s going on, but know my imagination is reeling out lots of really pleasant ideas and questions: is someone being stalked? Was there a sexual assault in the bathroom? Is this “man” from the Arabic school? Should I be concerned for my safety? Or, is some guy just taking a leak in the girls’ bathroom? Is there even a guy? Why did the first staff member tell me there was an issue between to women on the second floor?
THEN, my suitemate Tova said that the only weird thing that she was aware of was that this past Friday when the rest of us had already left for Montreal, someone – no idea who – took a shower in the bathroom of our suite. This is incredibly strange because there is a door between our suite and the main hall. How do people even know what’s behind that exterior door? I have never known of someone talking a shower in our bathroom before. Why did they do this now if most of the school was gone and it is very unlikely that the showers in the main bathroom are full? Was it just one of the girls, or was it some creeper man from who knows where?
Now, I’m kind of paranoid. I waited 30 minutes to go to the bathroom tonight because I didn’t want to go use the other one even though my suitemate was talking a shower. Then, we I went to take a shower, I tried to peer into the bathroom to see if someone was hiding behind the door in the shower. After my shower, I brushed my teeth with the door open and felt kind of stressed the whole time. What if some guy opened the door to our suite to use the freaking shower, and I’m standing there is my towel brushing my teeth?
I never lock my door when I’m in the room, but now I’m too scared to leave it unlocked while I’m asleep tonight. But, I probably won’t be able to sleep tonight now because I’m scared that if I leave the door locked and there is an emergency that I won’t be able to get out of my room.
I don’t need to know names or to understand the details of the situation. I just need to know if there is a freaking stalker creeper character running around the women’s bathrooms on the second floor of Hepburn.
Monday, July 21, 2008
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
PART FOUR: On Grammar: the Ruminations of a Nerd
Hello, everyone!! I'm sorry I haven't written anything since my horribly angsty (thank you, Chris) first note. I've posted three parts tonight. I hope you're all enjoying your summers!! I'm thinking of you and California ;)
Kate
---
July 8, 2008
Okay, this might seem weird, but I’m going to talk more about Arabic grammar. Yes, I did go to Castilleja. And, yes, I was that IHUM kid.
If you want to actually read something less boring, skip to the bottom…
I currently know 13/14 subject pronouns (depending on how you count). Since I last wrote, I learned two more! (Female plural “they”, female plural “you”). Although this means that I have to know more verb conjugations, it does make sense to have these gender differentiations. French operates very similarly with subject pronouns, nouns, adjectives, verbs, etc. And knowing this is somewhat comforting.
The farther I get with Arabic, the more I A) am very grateful for having learned an easier foreign language first (i.e. one that is closer to English), and B) realize how strange English grammar really is.
For example,
- to make a noun plural, you’ll probably add ‘s’ (cars, books, cups). BUT, you might all add ‘es’ (dresses, busses).
- HOWEVER, plural verbs don’t end in ‘s’ (they walk, they jump, we fly, you laugh).
And, C) understand the power of Ramzi’s verb chart.
Most verbs in Arabic are composed of 3 letter roots. For each 3-letter root, there are 10 possible “patterns,” each with a different (but related!) meaning. Form 1: to study, Form 2: to teach; Form 2: to change (something), Form 5: to change (reflexive, intransitive).
Okay, so this is probably really boring. BUT, it is really neat to me. And it makes Arabic a lot easier knowing that things are related to each other, so I don’t feel like I’m reinventing the wheel every single time I learn a new verb.
Totally unrelated, but probably a lot cooler (i.e. not about grammar):
- The words for “Arabic” and “Hebrew” have all the same letters and are spelled exactly the same way, except 2 of the letters are reversed. No comment.
- We beat the Portuguese School 9-1 in soccer and some other school in a speedy 33-minute 3-set volleyball blowout.
- I’ve now had TWO dreams in Arabic. They’ve both been intensely frustrating and strange.
Dream 1: Chris (a guy in my Arabic class) was trying to ask me a question, but I didn’t understand some of the words he was using. (This mimics real life, unfortunately.)
Dream 2: I had put my beach bag too close to the ocean, and waves were now starting to sweep its contents out to sea. I was trying to get Laura (a girl in my class) to help me find my two engagement rings – yes, there were two… - but I didn’t know the words for “bag” or “ring.” So I was just kind of pointing to the ocean and talking about how my marriages were being taken away from me. (I have recently learned the words for ocean, marriage, and “It was taken”. The resulting dream, however, was certainly a strange combination.)
Next time, I will write about 2 colorful characters at the Arabic school: (1) my future “husband” from Qatar – this according to his mother, and (2) Abdulkarem, the teacher who claims to be operating a black market petrol sale out of his room in Hepburn.
Kate
---
July 8, 2008
Okay, this might seem weird, but I’m going to talk more about Arabic grammar. Yes, I did go to Castilleja. And, yes, I was that IHUM kid.
If you want to actually read something less boring, skip to the bottom…
I currently know 13/14 subject pronouns (depending on how you count). Since I last wrote, I learned two more! (Female plural “they”, female plural “you”). Although this means that I have to know more verb conjugations, it does make sense to have these gender differentiations. French operates very similarly with subject pronouns, nouns, adjectives, verbs, etc. And knowing this is somewhat comforting.
The farther I get with Arabic, the more I A) am very grateful for having learned an easier foreign language first (i.e. one that is closer to English), and B) realize how strange English grammar really is.
For example,
- to make a noun plural, you’ll probably add ‘s’ (cars, books, cups). BUT, you might all add ‘es’ (dresses, busses).
- HOWEVER, plural verbs don’t end in ‘s’ (they walk, they jump, we fly, you laugh).
And, C) understand the power of Ramzi’s verb chart.
Most verbs in Arabic are composed of 3 letter roots. For each 3-letter root, there are 10 possible “patterns,” each with a different (but related!) meaning. Form 1: to study, Form 2: to teach; Form 2: to change (something), Form 5: to change (reflexive, intransitive).
Okay, so this is probably really boring. BUT, it is really neat to me. And it makes Arabic a lot easier knowing that things are related to each other, so I don’t feel like I’m reinventing the wheel every single time I learn a new verb.
Totally unrelated, but probably a lot cooler (i.e. not about grammar):
- The words for “Arabic” and “Hebrew” have all the same letters and are spelled exactly the same way, except 2 of the letters are reversed. No comment.
- We beat the Portuguese School 9-1 in soccer and some other school in a speedy 33-minute 3-set volleyball blowout.
- I’ve now had TWO dreams in Arabic. They’ve both been intensely frustrating and strange.
Dream 1: Chris (a guy in my Arabic class) was trying to ask me a question, but I didn’t understand some of the words he was using. (This mimics real life, unfortunately.)
Dream 2: I had put my beach bag too close to the ocean, and waves were now starting to sweep its contents out to sea. I was trying to get Laura (a girl in my class) to help me find my two engagement rings – yes, there were two… - but I didn’t know the words for “bag” or “ring.” So I was just kind of pointing to the ocean and talking about how my marriages were being taken away from me. (I have recently learned the words for ocean, marriage, and “It was taken”. The resulting dream, however, was certainly a strange combination.)
Next time, I will write about 2 colorful characters at the Arabic school: (1) my future “husband” from Qatar – this according to his mother, and (2) Abdulkarem, the teacher who claims to be operating a black market petrol sale out of his room in Hepburn.
PART THREE: Friday Night and Lake Dunmore
July 5, 2008
Today, the Arabic school went to Lake Dunmore which is about 15 minutes (by car) from Middlebury. The weather has been really unpredictable this entire time I’ve been here, so it was such a relief to wake up this morning to SUNSHINE!
After a leisurely breakfast and trip to the gym, Clare and I drove to the lake. It was a really beautiful drive, and it was nice to finally see the surrounding areas in the light of day. It actually looked like people might, in fact, inhabit Vermont.
There were a lot of people from the Arabic school as well as other language schools at Dunmore. Vermontians kept walking through our encampment whispering (not so quietly) about the number of “tour” groups at the lake today. A middle-aged woman stopped to ask Tova about our “tour.” When she explained that we were learning Arabic and that she was standing in the middle of a swarm of Arabic-speakers, she looked kind of taken aback and unsure of how to proceed. The lady finally settled on a short “oh” immediately followed by a mildly discomfited titter.
The water was beautiful. Cool, but not cold. No visible fish. *Gradually* deeper – as in, I wasn’t concerned about plummeting to my doom at any moment and being swept away by the “under toad.” For the most part.
Seth, a 28-year old former Marine, has decided that he must play the part of the “under toad.” In other words, I am standing peacefully enjoying the company of my fellow lake-goers until I become the subject of an underwater attack. I think I spy a trend. I fell victim to a similar crime in Bristol on Wednesday. Same M.O. However, in his defense, he did not pull me all the way underwater either time because he knows that water is not my fav.
About 20 people ended up congregating in the water. The main entertainment, provided by two of the teacher’s kids: chicken fighting. These two boys are about 10 or 11 years old and absolutely love to show off. It was really fun just to stand in the water and watch them play.
[Mom later asked the following question: “So was it like freaking?” – oh, yes. She did go there. “Did everyone make a circle around a few people so that the teachers couldn’t see them speaking English?”
The “freaking/speaking English” comparison is something that only *my* mother is capable of thinking up and then putting into verbal expression, dotted – of course – with her very specific “I-am-so-only-asking-you-this-question-because-I-think-it-is-totally-hiliariouos-that-I-am-asking-you-this-question” voice.]
After a brief sun nap, Clare and I tried to rent a kayak. Unfortunately, everyone wanted to rent a kayak. Instead, we decided to throw a football around with Helen and Maddie. I’ve discovered that as long as the person on the receiving end of my throw is less than, like, 10 feet away, I have a career in the NFL. Despite this pathetic reality, it was still really fun.
Afterwards, we went to dinner at American Flatbread, a special (organic?) Vermont pizza chain. Definitely felt like I was in California. ;) YES!
Last night (Friday), was the 4th of July. No fireworks, but 2 Arabic parties! Clare and I went to the school-sponsored party (read: teachers, no alcohol). At first it was incredibly awkward because there were like 15 teachers and 5 students. But, then more students arrived and everyone started dancing to crazy Arabic music. One of the teachers, Yunus, loves (and I mean LOVES) to dance. He was salsa-ing, rumba-ing, tango-ing all over the dance floor with anyone who was brave enough to join him or happened to be within a 10 foot radius. It was really fun because he would just make his way over to you and then start twirling you around. Kind of awesome!
Around 11:30PM, Clare and I went to Palmer (another Arabic house) where Seth was hosting a party celebrating the 4th and his (at least temporary) retirement from the marines. I got to talk to Zoe for a long time (90% Arabic, 10% English) which was great because I rarely get to spend time with her since we’re not in the same class. She goes to St. Andrews and knows Eneida from Castilleja. Small world.
1AM. I am tired. The teachers are not. I arrive back at Hepburn where the teacher party rages on. Hearing Nancy Ajram reinvigorates me, so it’s time for more dancing.
Julia, one of my suitemates, is going crazy with Yunus. They seem to be engaged in some sort of Arabic-ballroom dance off. There are a bunch of other girls that are on staff or in the highest level (level 4) just being silly and having fun. And there is 1 guy. Ben.
Oh, Ben. I have seen concentration taken to new heights. Background to why this is so endearing:
Ben is 21 (his birthday was at the beginning of the program). He went to college for a year, dropped out, joined the army, went to through basic training, got a contract to go fight in Iraq, traded contracts with a friend and became a translator. Now, he works for the U.S. Army in a windowless office in Augusta, Georgia, listening the Iraqi “communications” (his word). He may also happen to be incredibly attractive.
His preferred method of dancing is to stare, really really really intently, at someone’s feet and try to copy them. CUUUUUUUUUTE. I’m not totally sure he realized that there weren’t really any steps…
Today, the Arabic school went to Lake Dunmore which is about 15 minutes (by car) from Middlebury. The weather has been really unpredictable this entire time I’ve been here, so it was such a relief to wake up this morning to SUNSHINE!
After a leisurely breakfast and trip to the gym, Clare and I drove to the lake. It was a really beautiful drive, and it was nice to finally see the surrounding areas in the light of day. It actually looked like people might, in fact, inhabit Vermont.
There were a lot of people from the Arabic school as well as other language schools at Dunmore. Vermontians kept walking through our encampment whispering (not so quietly) about the number of “tour” groups at the lake today. A middle-aged woman stopped to ask Tova about our “tour.” When she explained that we were learning Arabic and that she was standing in the middle of a swarm of Arabic-speakers, she looked kind of taken aback and unsure of how to proceed. The lady finally settled on a short “oh” immediately followed by a mildly discomfited titter.
The water was beautiful. Cool, but not cold. No visible fish. *Gradually* deeper – as in, I wasn’t concerned about plummeting to my doom at any moment and being swept away by the “under toad.” For the most part.
Seth, a 28-year old former Marine, has decided that he must play the part of the “under toad.” In other words, I am standing peacefully enjoying the company of my fellow lake-goers until I become the subject of an underwater attack. I think I spy a trend. I fell victim to a similar crime in Bristol on Wednesday. Same M.O. However, in his defense, he did not pull me all the way underwater either time because he knows that water is not my fav.
About 20 people ended up congregating in the water. The main entertainment, provided by two of the teacher’s kids: chicken fighting. These two boys are about 10 or 11 years old and absolutely love to show off. It was really fun just to stand in the water and watch them play.
[Mom later asked the following question: “So was it like freaking?” – oh, yes. She did go there. “Did everyone make a circle around a few people so that the teachers couldn’t see them speaking English?”
The “freaking/speaking English” comparison is something that only *my* mother is capable of thinking up and then putting into verbal expression, dotted – of course – with her very specific “I-am-so-only-asking-you-this-question-because-I-think-it-is-totally-hiliariouos-that-I-am-asking-you-this-question” voice.]
After a brief sun nap, Clare and I tried to rent a kayak. Unfortunately, everyone wanted to rent a kayak. Instead, we decided to throw a football around with Helen and Maddie. I’ve discovered that as long as the person on the receiving end of my throw is less than, like, 10 feet away, I have a career in the NFL. Despite this pathetic reality, it was still really fun.
Afterwards, we went to dinner at American Flatbread, a special (organic?) Vermont pizza chain. Definitely felt like I was in California. ;) YES!
Last night (Friday), was the 4th of July. No fireworks, but 2 Arabic parties! Clare and I went to the school-sponsored party (read: teachers, no alcohol). At first it was incredibly awkward because there were like 15 teachers and 5 students. But, then more students arrived and everyone started dancing to crazy Arabic music. One of the teachers, Yunus, loves (and I mean LOVES) to dance. He was salsa-ing, rumba-ing, tango-ing all over the dance floor with anyone who was brave enough to join him or happened to be within a 10 foot radius. It was really fun because he would just make his way over to you and then start twirling you around. Kind of awesome!
Around 11:30PM, Clare and I went to Palmer (another Arabic house) where Seth was hosting a party celebrating the 4th and his (at least temporary) retirement from the marines. I got to talk to Zoe for a long time (90% Arabic, 10% English) which was great because I rarely get to spend time with her since we’re not in the same class. She goes to St. Andrews and knows Eneida from Castilleja. Small world.
1AM. I am tired. The teachers are not. I arrive back at Hepburn where the teacher party rages on. Hearing Nancy Ajram reinvigorates me, so it’s time for more dancing.
Julia, one of my suitemates, is going crazy with Yunus. They seem to be engaged in some sort of Arabic-ballroom dance off. There are a bunch of other girls that are on staff or in the highest level (level 4) just being silly and having fun. And there is 1 guy. Ben.
Oh, Ben. I have seen concentration taken to new heights. Background to why this is so endearing:
Ben is 21 (his birthday was at the beginning of the program). He went to college for a year, dropped out, joined the army, went to through basic training, got a contract to go fight in Iraq, traded contracts with a friend and became a translator. Now, he works for the U.S. Army in a windowless office in Augusta, Georgia, listening the Iraqi “communications” (his word). He may also happen to be incredibly attractive.
His preferred method of dancing is to stare, really really really intently, at someone’s feet and try to copy them. CUUUUUUUUUTE. I’m not totally sure he realized that there weren’t really any steps…
Part Two: Into the Forrest???
June 29, 2008
Yes, it’s been two weeks already. I can’t believe it. I feel like I’ve just gotten here/have been here forever. At this point, I’m not really sure which. I think it just changes by the hour.
Highlights:
1) It hailed. Yes, hailed. I checked my calendar, and it’s definitely June. But, as I’ve been learning, June in Vermontian means Winter in Californian. As in, the rain just doesn’t end.
2) “Medinat Middlebury”: I live 30 feet from a cemetery and 5 blocks from a bar. I think this is slowly bringing me out of my “I wonder what it would have been like to live in a town of 213 people in the middle of nowhere” phase.
3) Speaking in Arabic. Yah, it’s really hard and yah, I’m still pretty bad. BUT, I’m getting better, especially at understanding what people are saying even when they talk really fast.
4) Friends! Clare, Helen, Tova. Friends!
So, Middlebury exists in the dark ages of sketch wireless and apparently an age in which – mysteriously – not every student wears clothes…
This is a story about laundry.
At Stanford, two things are for certain about laundry – regardless of how many time(s) per quarter you so choose to perform the act:
1. Laundry is included in tuition, thus lifting the burden of quarters and other archaen methods of payment.
2. There are laundry machines in all student housing.
Neither of these are true at Middlebury. Instead of quarters, they have a special card that you put money on – but it isn’t, btw, the same card you for photocopying or the same card you use to get into your building. Unfortunately, not all laundry locations have card machines. And furthermore, the card machines are very particular. They advertise taking $5, $10, $20, but in reality they only take $5 bills.
I had it all figured out. I traded my last 5 $1 bills for a $5. I was in the know about the finicky machines, heheheh. After breakfast, I got the card thing done.
Then, I bought laundry detergent from the Tress-X equivalent, Mid-Express, on the way back from the gym. Efficient.
After dinner, I got all my laundry and put it in my suitcase. This is where things started to go turn sour. My suitcase is about the size of a bus. As in, when standing upright, it comes up to my hips. Large.
I knew this was going to be a problem from the start. I deliberated. What to do? Laundry, or no laundry? I had been posing this very question for the last several days. I had gone 2 weeks without doing laundry, and clothing levels were critical. I just had to. It also wasn’t raining, a huge plus.
Took my suitcase in the elevator because the stairs are two narrow (or maybe my suitcase is too wide…) Got out at the first floor. Not the basement. That is because there isn’t a laundry room in my building. But there is a laundry room in Forrest, on the other side of Route 125. Yes, that is the main road that goes through Middlebury. It also bisects the entire state. So the way I see it, I crossed the interstate – on foot with a whale for a laundry basket – to do my laundry. Baller.
Before I left the building, people actually laughed as I went by with the whale. One guy said “good bye” (in Arabic, of course), as if I were leaving the program. So apparently, a gaggle of first years now think that I am either crazy or going home. An explanation of why this bothers me so intensely would probably require some serious psychoanalysis. But the fact is, it does. Probably because it acts out the insecure part of me that thinks I can’t do things like learn Arabic, and because it makes me feel like a total lo-o-o-oser.
My Arabic teacher, Rasha, saw me with the whale and started yammering about how I shouldn’t leave and then – once she was convinced I wasn’t vacating the premises – about how I could clothe a small village for three years. Yes, that’s pretty much what she told me. “It appears that you can dress a small village for three years.” I don’t know the words for laundry, basket, detergent, sheets, haven’t done laundry for two weeks. So now she thinks that I must have a shopping mall in my room.
Got to the room, realized I forgot the card. Re-traversed the interstate, this time sans whale. Got my card. $1.25/ea.
Returned later in hopes of drying everything I own – I am currently wearing a button-down collared shirt and boxer shorts, the last things that aren’t dirty. And yes, I did cross the interstate wearing these. In fact, I went to dinner in them too.
Laundry machine hates me. Eats my money. Get Clare’s card. It eats her money too. A nice girl helps me make it work. I am convinced that it only works because of her presence. Because I did exactly the same thing three times before she showed up. Unfortunately, $0.50 only buys you 23 minutes in 1 dryer, so I guess we’ll see how that works out…
Arabic is getting kind of hard. The grammar is tricky because we’re learning about case endings, which means I actually need to understand grammar and how sentences work. Let’s put it this way, I failed the 7th grade sentence-diagramming test. Problem! (This word is actually really, really fun to say in Arabic – moosh-kii-lah.)
Also, why on earth would you make up all the rules for when you’re talking about two people? Two men, two women, a man and a woman. Why are all the verbs, nouns, and adjectives different?????? I’m really happy with using they and you (plural). I don’t really need 3 more subject pronouns.
Yes, it’s been two weeks already. I can’t believe it. I feel like I’ve just gotten here/have been here forever. At this point, I’m not really sure which. I think it just changes by the hour.
Highlights:
1) It hailed. Yes, hailed. I checked my calendar, and it’s definitely June. But, as I’ve been learning, June in Vermontian means Winter in Californian. As in, the rain just doesn’t end.
2) “Medinat Middlebury”: I live 30 feet from a cemetery and 5 blocks from a bar. I think this is slowly bringing me out of my “I wonder what it would have been like to live in a town of 213 people in the middle of nowhere” phase.
3) Speaking in Arabic. Yah, it’s really hard and yah, I’m still pretty bad. BUT, I’m getting better, especially at understanding what people are saying even when they talk really fast.
4) Friends! Clare, Helen, Tova. Friends!
So, Middlebury exists in the dark ages of sketch wireless and apparently an age in which – mysteriously – not every student wears clothes…
This is a story about laundry.
At Stanford, two things are for certain about laundry – regardless of how many time(s) per quarter you so choose to perform the act:
1. Laundry is included in tuition, thus lifting the burden of quarters and other archaen methods of payment.
2. There are laundry machines in all student housing.
Neither of these are true at Middlebury. Instead of quarters, they have a special card that you put money on – but it isn’t, btw, the same card you for photocopying or the same card you use to get into your building. Unfortunately, not all laundry locations have card machines. And furthermore, the card machines are very particular. They advertise taking $5, $10, $20, but in reality they only take $5 bills.
I had it all figured out. I traded my last 5 $1 bills for a $5. I was in the know about the finicky machines, heheheh. After breakfast, I got the card thing done.
Then, I bought laundry detergent from the Tress-X equivalent, Mid-Express, on the way back from the gym. Efficient.
After dinner, I got all my laundry and put it in my suitcase. This is where things started to go turn sour. My suitcase is about the size of a bus. As in, when standing upright, it comes up to my hips. Large.
I knew this was going to be a problem from the start. I deliberated. What to do? Laundry, or no laundry? I had been posing this very question for the last several days. I had gone 2 weeks without doing laundry, and clothing levels were critical. I just had to. It also wasn’t raining, a huge plus.
Took my suitcase in the elevator because the stairs are two narrow (or maybe my suitcase is too wide…) Got out at the first floor. Not the basement. That is because there isn’t a laundry room in my building. But there is a laundry room in Forrest, on the other side of Route 125. Yes, that is the main road that goes through Middlebury. It also bisects the entire state. So the way I see it, I crossed the interstate – on foot with a whale for a laundry basket – to do my laundry. Baller.
Before I left the building, people actually laughed as I went by with the whale. One guy said “good bye” (in Arabic, of course), as if I were leaving the program. So apparently, a gaggle of first years now think that I am either crazy or going home. An explanation of why this bothers me so intensely would probably require some serious psychoanalysis. But the fact is, it does. Probably because it acts out the insecure part of me that thinks I can’t do things like learn Arabic, and because it makes me feel like a total lo-o-o-oser.
My Arabic teacher, Rasha, saw me with the whale and started yammering about how I shouldn’t leave and then – once she was convinced I wasn’t vacating the premises – about how I could clothe a small village for three years. Yes, that’s pretty much what she told me. “It appears that you can dress a small village for three years.” I don’t know the words for laundry, basket, detergent, sheets, haven’t done laundry for two weeks. So now she thinks that I must have a shopping mall in my room.
Got to the room, realized I forgot the card. Re-traversed the interstate, this time sans whale. Got my card. $1.25/ea.
Returned later in hopes of drying everything I own – I am currently wearing a button-down collared shirt and boxer shorts, the last things that aren’t dirty. And yes, I did cross the interstate wearing these. In fact, I went to dinner in them too.
Laundry machine hates me. Eats my money. Get Clare’s card. It eats her money too. A nice girl helps me make it work. I am convinced that it only works because of her presence. Because I did exactly the same thing three times before she showed up. Unfortunately, $0.50 only buys you 23 minutes in 1 dryer, so I guess we’ll see how that works out…
Arabic is getting kind of hard. The grammar is tricky because we’re learning about case endings, which means I actually need to understand grammar and how sentences work. Let’s put it this way, I failed the 7th grade sentence-diagramming test. Problem! (This word is actually really, really fun to say in Arabic – moosh-kii-lah.)
Also, why on earth would you make up all the rules for when you’re talking about two people? Two men, two women, a man and a woman. Why are all the verbs, nouns, and adjectives different?????? I’m really happy with using they and you (plural). I don’t really need 3 more subject pronouns.
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