Par-tay time!

Yes! It's my version of a Friday night since we only get Friday's off.  This is the first time all week I am sadly lamenting my loss that is the bounty of the grape vine.  I miss my old friend, but it's more a reaction to having time to yourself than anything else.  Tomorrow I hope to sleep and explore more of the base - maybe go on a run and try a few of the gyms until I find the one I will ask to marry me.

So here I am - just opened a box that I had mailed to myself last week from Panama City because I ended up with too much stuff.  Even though I knew what was in it, I still thought that I was an incredibly good person for sending myself the lovely care package.  Thank you, me!  I have no TV (yet) or any idea what to do so thankfully I am tired.  I will put in a Pashto learning CD, try to gussy up my holding cell  room, write a few emails and fantasize about future travels - all while petting my pillow and pretending it's my cat.  And, as I have found is becoming the customary occurrence, right when I'm ready to pass out nature will start calling me until I get up and answer - that bitch.  That means a 70 yard or so walk through the mud to deal with a perfunctory need.  The mud is like that wet, slimy clay we used to have to play with in grade school.  It causes you to slip, slide and balance yourself in unusual poses - as long as you keep moving you will make it, but try to slow down and you're going to enjoy something soaking into your pants that you haven't felt since you were a baby.  They may only find your shoe the next morning.

Anyweirdafghanistory, I just found out why we don't work Fridays - it's because the Afghani's don't and we employ quite a few of them.  The interesting part is wwhhhyyyy.  Women don't really count for much to them - maybe some babies and cooking.  What the men of this culture really enjoy is the company of other men - in every respect.  Apparently, Thursday nights are some kind of male, party night - so much so that Friday is out.  Huge walk of shame maybe??? I don't know, but very interesting.  You see them walking around here holding hands, arm in arm and kissing each other on the lips - different culture.  But  now that I have this knowledge, combined with my innate immaturity,  I will not be able to resist making up dialogue between them in my head - especially when they tend to go conversationally nuts after you walk by them.  Is this story true about the Thursday nights??? I don't really know, but you can bet I am going to be on the hunt for any batting of the eyes and flipping of the beards on Saturday.

UPDATE!  Fridays are holy holidays - thank you Lesha!

Drink of the night - non-alcoholic beer accompanied by a sad clown face and quivering chin (should be a nice pinot noir)