He's got almost as many piercings as I do now, too

Speaking of fugly, I had a nice long email from my brother Bo this morning. If you've met Bo you know he is about as talkative as a house plant, and half as forthcoming. Getting more than three words out of him requires pliers and a strong stomach. If you want those words to have more than one syllable you might as well bring in the Armed Forces and maybe one of those giant off-shore oil drilling things while you're at it. So it was LOVELY as well as surprising to get a (relatively) verbose communique off Chile boy. He's been having girl problems, which is both surprising and not at all surprising. Not surprising because he's a good-looking boy. He takes after his sister in that regard (you know, tall, blonde, tan, long eyelashes. . .). But surprising because, well, Bo has never put enough words together (in my presence) to ask a girl out, much less say anything that might cause drama.

AnyHOO, things sound active and scandalous in Valdivia, Chile. I'm the TEENIEST bit jealous because my life of late has become about as scandalous as an episode of Golden Girls, and yes I totally just stole that reference to Golden Girls from Go Fug Yourself. I work, I eat, I sleep. I bitch and moan about unpronounceable names and expensive laundry services. I conceive wildly ambitious teaching ideas only to have them shot down by more experienced teachers with a not-so-surreptitious rolling of the eyes and snorting of the nose.

Oops, I'm complaining again. Sorry.