The Blogger, chapter something

August 3                                                         INSERT TITLE                                                             


Hi guys! Gals. Whoever those views are. Tanzania? Didn’t even know where that was till now. Analytics! Didn’t cover it in Geography last year with Mr. Reed who had a baby, well, you know, his wife, and then Mr. Cryer, young and supposedly good looking, I don't know I wasn't paying attention, replaced him during his maternity leave—fraternity? Google says paternity—but I can’t even think of what we did in that class. There was that month of student presentations on an assigned country and we each had to fill a class with a lesson, giving Mr. Cryer a break as he learned our names—Mr. Reed assigned it. I went first. Cambodia. Formerly Kampuchean, which I thought was the same as capuchin—like the monkey from Friends. No one called me on that logical leap because who knew that spelling? Angkor Wat. That was accurate! Tons of war and occupation just in the last century. Tons to talk about. But I really, REALLY sweated taking the whole class. Talk for 40 minutes? Oof! Luckily power point. And a Q&A at the end where no one asked a thing so I showed photos from Google. But being first, I didn’t have precedent. Also I wasn’t going to set precedent. Didn’t quite have that star power to make a school presentation on history memorable to kids who maybe knew my name if they read the opening slide—OSCAR—but a lot were already tuned out at that point. So the next few presentation classes, students took twenty minutes. Ten minutes. Five. Two. Then we had free time. I was reading a book a day back then. Sometimes the book I’d just read the day before because only so much library at home. Only so much allowance. Star Wars mostly. Jacen and Jaina, Yuuzhan Vong, Darth Caedus, Luke’s kid Ben dying and Chewie getting like a moon dropped on him. It was great. I guess we had that really good class discussion on how many continents there were. I didn’t participate but I listened to Sarah and Lindsay, besties (then), hotties (still), ask Mr. Cryer about the continents. Seven, right? Wrong! But Sarah flipped open our textbook to show him and he grabbed her hand before she found the page, spinning her promise ring till it unscrewed, and explained. Not in South America. They just see America as one long continent, probably the biggest, if so. And was Central America in South or North? Didn’t matter if they were one. Wow! What about Europe and Asia? I’d heard that before. Eurasia! (I wanted to cry out.) Was Australia on the same as Indonesia? It maybe was different than New Zealand. Anyway, memorable as those were, that was a month and a half of classes? Where’d the rest go? It was a full two quarters, what in high school we call semesters. Mostly we learned country names I already knew. Also Djibouti! Which is also in Africa—like Tanzania! Which you know because you’re in Tanzania, some of you, most of you, and knowing Djibouti is like knowing Idaho for me. Do you know Idaho? Oh, shit, so this is still the opening address and it’s meant to end in a comma,


I really just got on to update that not much happened this week, didn’t want to miss a post and make you think I was dead though. So aloha?


Anyway, thanks for reading. See you next week? Or talk to you next week, I guess, since we’re not really seeing each other, though I’m sure you’re just gorgeous—man or woman—maybe not, but even if not, that’s not too important, right? You’re surely brilliant. You’re reading my blog after all. You sorted through all the noise to get at what’s special online—ME! That’s what my mom—she’s never said it, like the joke, but she probably thinks it. Right? RIGHT?! Yeah, she does. Oh, but I guess we won’t talk next week either. You’ll just read and I’ll talk at you. Type at you, really. Don’t want to hear this voice. That puberty crack. Um, right. So… thanks for reading. Type at you next week,