one would think that i would be bitter and rightfully so. one would think this. one would be wrong. deader than wrong.

as it just so happens, this afternoon i sat in the back reading “Bad Marie” a really good light hearted comic take on child abduction (the kid goes to paris and puerta vallarta, dont tell me she was sufferin’) and I paused for a moment to inspect my skin and lather on the Bio-Oil (which is worth every cent I might add) and I heard the oddest thing— a bee drinking the sweet nectar of a newly blossomed, spring time flower. It was all, “BZZZZZZZZZZ bbbbbbbhmmmmmm BZZ BZZ bbmmmmhhmmmm” and I could tell this bee was stoked. I could just tell.

Then, I heard the couple from across the way. Not the S. African couple. This other one. Australian and Euro couple. Anyhow, they have been there since my last trip here and I actually give a nice auscultatin’ to them. It was a strangeness because I was not even remotely bitter. Not at all. I was pleasantly surprised at how cute I thought they were.

I can only hear them when they are in the bathroom. He was in the shower, she just got home from work. He got out, she got in. He stayed to talk. She carried on about her day and said, “Oh, it seems you like The Body Shop more than I do, babe.” He said something, then she said, “Where? Oh. OH! You got it for me! Thanks babe!! I love the way this smells. Oh, I didn’t even think to look at this. You got the whole line for me? Oh, babe!”

And now they are doing it.

I’m happy to report that I am happy for them. This is a good sign.

I feel like I’m on the most amazing anthropological self-discovery thing ever and the end is not in sight. Next tuesday is another court hearing date. He and I— well, what do you need to know? Time heals all wounds. This wound has a bit of gravel in it still. I am still standing. The agency seems to really like me and I am obtaining invaluable experience with them. When I can come home, I will.

And I intend to have a mini Christmas tree in my room.