We now interrupt this regularly scheduled programming.

Down to the Wire

It's 15 hours before departure and we're just packing the last of our things. Not so long ago, I could throw together a suitcase in 15 minutes. Destination unknown: Tel-Aviv, Sao Paulo, Paris, Thunder Bay, Saskatoon, it didn't matter. I could be ready to go anywhere with the snap of a finger. No clean underwear? No problem. Just turn them inside out! One year later, I sit here ironing handkerchiefs and t-shirts, placing everything neatly into labeled zip-lock bags. Is my grandmother inhabiting my body? Next thing you know I'll be sewing the days of the week onto the ass of my undies.

Also in preparation for tomorrow's departure, C and I have removed our wedding rings and filed our nails down to the bone. Apparently, there will be no toilet paper available at the camp. We are expected to make do with our left hand, a bucket of water, and a scoop. Constipation never looked so good! At least we've got the squat down from living in Japan. Ah, well. As the old saying goes, when in Rome...

Joking aside, we are jumping up and down with excitement and anticipation. Only one more sleep!! Be back at the end of August! So long, folks!

ps...In Sumatra I can give up a lot of things: TV, the internet, my ipod and even toilet paper. But one thing I will miss is a new episode of Wiretap on CBC radio. If anyone can tape it for me, I'll be their best friend.

August 6/Wiretap: The Promise of Childhood

Jonathan Goldstein describes how it feels when Zuuzuu discovers the Beatles. Gregor does his best to save a precocious child from certain doom - a future of adult mediocrity. Howard tries to convince Goldstein to revisit the glories of childhood with a round of what he claims was the best game ever: No Rules Octopus Rock Tag.

The new episodes now air on Sundays (Monday for us--rats!!!)

These Boots Were Made For

I have a foot fetish. Often I have pondered the nature and origin of my fetish and have come to the conclusion that I just like going places. There are always places to come from, and places to go, and damn it, it's my feet that take me there. In turn, I am kind to my feet. I spoil them with expensive lotions and creams. I trip around in comfy Mary Janes and flip flops, and they have yet to complain of a blister this summer.
Boots have, and will always be the ultimate treat for my feet. Some will recall the girly rainboots I just had to have, or those sexy brown suede knee highs I kicked around in for years. In high school, my social-in was owing to a pair of 10-hole Dock Martens (OK, the ripped fishnets helped too.)
And tonight, shopping for mosquito repellant at the Namba Home Centre, I had to give in to yet another whimsical demand of my feet. Behold, the ninja boot:




They are currently only popular among Japanese construction workers and myself. I will see that they catch on. Everybody needs a pair, I say. They are light and quick-drying with amazing grip. And when you slip them on you feel a little like a super hero...or a marsupial.

I must run now. There are trees to climb. And walls to scale. And balls to bust.

Eavesdrop

on a conversation I had:

-Do you know where I can find a bathing suit to fit me?
-How about a military base.
-Wha?