My goodness, it's been nearly a month! I feel terrible for luring my reader(s?) into a false sense of security by blogging semi-frequently, then BAM. I pulled that rug right out from under that reader(s?) feet, didn't I? And not in a cool way, like how magicians pull tablecloths really fast and none of the silverware or strategically placed wine glasses even quiver. Oh, no. I pulled that rug away the way a heartless school nurse rips a bandaid off a whiny kid. Residual pain? Yes, please.
By the way, it's okay that that last paragraph makes no sense because I'm fasting. I have an excuse to be crazy AND crabby for a whole month!
For the record, I have reasons for not blogging. I've been quite busy collecting memories to blog about. I traveled through some pretty great beach towns with some really good friends, then spent nine days working a summer camp. Here's some stuff that happened, presented to you in sloppy, half-ass bullet-point form:
*Moroccans can really suck sometimes, and yes, that is my personal opinion and not that of the Peace Corps or the United States government. My friends and I booked a nice bus to get from Point A to Point B, as opposed to the shitty souk buses that can involve all of the following: crazies, chickens, chicken shit, druggies, perverts, and B.O. The perks of this bus, in theory, include departing and arriving on schedule, air conditioning, and reserved seats.
Unfortunately, we live in Morocco. The bus left a bit late and the air conditioning left much to be desired, but these minor inconveniences paled in comparison to the Epic Battle of No Dibsies 2010. When we all boarded the bus, we found that random people were sitting in our seats. No big deal, we asked them to move because we had made reservations to sit together. One of the ladies said something about wanting to sit nearer the front and basically refused to move. This was annoying, but what really set me off was the pudgy bald man in my seat that refused to even RESPOND to me. He just totally tuned me out like I wasn't there. Fucking jackass. I ended up sitting next to a random lady who refused to speak to me in Arabic and insisted on using French, even though I pretty clearly couldn't understand or respond in kind.
I hadn't meant to allocate so much space to that bit because, overall, it was a pretty small blip in an otherwise rockin' few weeks. Awkward. Moving on.
*There is a great beach in Agadir and I got the worst sunburn of my entire life (think about that, parents). My body reacted so violently that I actually had a fever and chills the night after I'd been sitting in the sun, then the next day I was limping because my legs hurt so bad. I'm kind of an idiot.
*Agadir has an English karaoke pub. Whaaaaaaat?! I think I drank 2.5 liters of beer, and my friends and I karaoked "One Way or Another" to a cosmopolitan audience who I don't think had ever heard the song before.
*David is a hilarious person. Two quotes I wrote down from him:
"The rules on Moroccan men wearing pink ladies sandals are pretty laissez-faire..."
"One kid I'm bringing to camp seems too young. He's really small...and he's retarded as shit."
*This turned out to be the month of saying ridiculous things that can only be followed by "that's what she said." I've compiled a list of things that were actually said, most of them unfortunately by me. I decided to just leave them out of context.
"I've been blowing mad d." -me
"You might want to beat it again." -me
"Gahhhh my body can't handle sausage." -me
"I don't know what to do with my hand!" -me
"I'm gonna see what time it's coming inside." -donniell
"I've got a biiiiig package waiting for me." -donniell
"The sun basically comes right in your face." -juan camilo
"Is it cold enough to get hard in site?" -donniell
*
*something about camp I can't express with a clip from Wet Hot American Summer: Ramadan hit right in the middle. It was really weird to be on a packed camp schedule from 8 am to 1 am everyday, then suddenly flip it inside out. Once Ramadan started we didn't start camp activities until 12 pm, ate breakfast at 7:30 pm and did activities well into the night. We started out with about half of the Americans fasting, but the shitty camp food mixed with the shitty hygienic conditions made everyone get sick pretty quickly and by day 3 of Ramadan hardly anyone was fasting anymore. I'm still trying to get back on track.
*Things you can do to take your mind off food:
-draw a series of angry animals to express your angst. How 'bout a Goddamn Gorilla? Or maybe a Caustic Chameleon is more your style.
-take naps, then wake up to find out that some punk-ass kid has accused you of not "really fasting" because you fell asleep in the middle of the day.
-go to the beach (this one isn't really funny)
*There was a kid at camp that everyone called Chocolate Rain for reasons you might be able to guess. I have no idea what his real name is. He won "Star of the Day" once and his certificate read "Chocolate Rain."
*Nice things about Ramadan:
-the guy driving my taxi from Rabat to my town drove me straight to my house after I mentioned I was fasting.
-the fruit seller gave me a crazy discount then told me I should stay in Morocco after my Peace Corps contract runs out because I was fasting.
-in general, people are really nice to you if you are fasting.
Annnnnnnnnd scene.
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