Happy happy?

I don't practice Santeria...but I do own a crystal ball. Okay, so technically it's a magic eight ball, and it's never really worked.

My friend Rhiannon thought it'd be fun to sign up for this free text messaging service online, so we could text back and forth without paying anymore damn money to the phone company. She has, to date, sent me one message. But this fourteen year old from Bangkok likes to send me messages all day. And it ROCKS! Tres cool messages too, like "hope you are happy day" and "Happy Happy." The last one is probably my favorite. I don't even know what the fuck he's saying. At least the first has some level of discernible, underlying English. Happy happy....what's that? The kid's got issues...and evidently, zippo friends. Yup, I score the winners. I think one day I'll send him an elaborately worded email in which I use nothing but two dollar words, slang and American idioms...just to confuse the hell out of him. Keep him busy with a dictionary for a few days.

My phone company sent me a bill for six cents. WTF?! I didn't pay. I hope they don't cut off my phone again. That last time they conveniently forgot to tell me they'd switched it off. It took me two weeks to realize. Yeah, I'm SUPER popular. My parents don't even call Casa de Lauren anymore. NTT says our relationship is riddled with, what they call, miscommunication. I call it, "I don't speak Japanese, but thanks for trying....oh yeah, and you're service blows goats...not to mention other small barnyard animals."

I have the flu. It's cool. I cough on all of my students. I cough on my supervisor. If I'm lucky, I'll have the chance to cough on the principle and call it a day. This is war.

Yeah........so instead of sleeping all weekend, I think I'll go to Hiroshima. I'll let you know how that turns out, unless, in fact, I do die. And wouldn't that be ironic? An American dying in Hiroshima...newsworthy I feel. What the deuce.

Happy happy.