So day 15 of the unoffical JB leave Countdown went well. She kept complaining all day about how here arm hurt when she used it. The answer to her problem would NOT USING THE ARM! I was just not symphatic towards her at all and I think that she sensed it.

Kani wrote back to my Mom, he called her "spirited" hee hee, she is but it just sounds a bit funny coming from him. He also worte about how I was a "true daughter of Kurdistan" and that he wished that there were 100 more of me so that one of them could be the next Joan of Arc or (Joan of Arch as he put in the email) call me crazy, she became a saint and all, but she did lose the war and was burned at stake by the English. I don't know if I am ready for that sacrifice. Also, I think that their are plenty of Kurdish marytrs to go around. I would reather be remember for action, not smoke. But Kani still hasn't written to me. Damnit! He said that he would. And I am so curious as to his reaction to my email that it is killing me. Why build me up to my mom? Trust me, she's bias and already knows how great I am. Is he afraid too? Or is it just going to be the huge novel about how I am a total bitch, I would be cool with that, it just has to come that's all.
Driving down to my parents I had this thought, that Kani is the sterotypical melodramatic Kurdish male. He reminds me of that character in the film Marooned in Iraq who gets everything stolen from him. He is hanging out on a snow capped mountain in his undershirt. His friends go by, he tells them his story, they offer him a coat and he turns them down because someone is coming with a mule for him. Then they leave and he continues to wail and rips his shirt off making the whole situation worse. I think that the whole Kurdish question can be wrapped up in that scene. They get offered a coat when they need it but turn in down because they are waiting for the mule.

So today I have been hanging with the little Bro. Hi Jimmy. He won't read my blog because it has too much writing on it and not enough pictures. What a goof, I love him, but he is a goof.