Toxic Camel Spit:

Let's see... its been about 3 weeks or more since I last posted. I know I know. Shame has been brought upon my family and I will be stricken down with a lightning bolt. I've already been scolded by a handful of people that "your vacation is over. Time to get back to writing." Funny... I was sure that this place was the exact opposite of a vacation... cough cough HARRY. But alas, she's right. The parents are back from a long weekend away, and it's time to get serious again.

That's right. My dad was gone for about 2 and half weeks... and it really did feel like my parents were away for the weekend and I had the WHOLE house to myself. It's not to say I didn't miss him, but it was nice to savor the sense of freedom that his leave entitled me. It sounds weird, I know.

I can tell you that I loved sleeping in on Sundays, my one day of rest, instead of waking up early to go to church. I lose a lot of sleep during the week and his leave allowed me to sleep in a little on Sunday. Once again, shame on me. But in the battle of early mornings and sleeping in, sleeping in will usually come out triumphant. As I tried to explaining to him upon his return, when I got to church it's like him waking up at 1 in the morning to go to work. To this he responded, "Well, I really appreciate you making that sacrifice. It means a lot to me." What could I say to that?

Needless to say, I did go to church that Sunday morning. And I was extremely exhausted. But I was there. Maybe not bright eyed and smiling, but rather yawning and teary eyed. He gets what he gets.

We did have a nice Sunday though. We ended up going to the new bazaar. I'll have to post some pictures later, I don't have them with me right now. But it's called the Oasis, and I think it lives up to it's name. It's nice to have something new here. As I've said before, it so often feels like groundhog day, and a little mixup is a pleasant surprise.

I think the most exciting thing there was the camels. I have been around Iraq enough to really see a camel, and I was lucky enough to see one up close and personal. Lucky me. I'd like to think as my dad went to snap the picture that the camel was merely offering a friendly greeting...instead, I think that it was it's vicious attempt to target me. It clamped down on my noggin, and as the camel handler laughed and I watched as nobody came to my rescue, I thought... death by camel. That's how I'm going to go? Death by a fricken camel? It finally released my head from the jaws of death, leaving only a trace of toxic camel spit as a reminder of what it is capable of.

And that is about what I've been up to. I told my mom that it is very difficult to come up with interesting material here, making it hard for me to write something. I always say this, and I do mean it, but I'll work on it. Pinkie promise.

<3 Jacki

Exploited for a pretzel, of all things:

As I have said before, women have a lot of power over here. The wink of an eye or a flash of pearly whites can go a very, very long way. I make a habit of consciously not doing the aforementioned things. It’s not fair to toy with these poor boys, especially when they have no idea how to defend themselves. In the wrong hands, the tactics of a female can turn a man of dignity into a malleable substance that will do anything at the beck and call of those wrong hands.

While it is true that I do not engage is this “psychological” war fare against the opposite sex, I can tell you that I have been schooled in the art of working what you got, so to speak. I won’t name names, because I’m not here to present a platform to expose my fellow females. They are good people that have merely been given too much power, and I cannot fault them for that.

So, as the story goes, I was walking out of the internet café, which is a prime location for night life here on COB Basra. In the vicinity of the internet café, there is an Auntie Anne’s pretzel stand and a couple of volleyball courts. Auntie Anne’s happens to have the best pretzels in town, and they are a welcome treat.

My friend, who shall not be named, had already weaseled* the poor pretzel boys out of 2 free pretzels and a drink. After sharing her bounty with the people around her, she got a little greedy and asked for my assistance in acquiring more pretzels. “The trick,” she said with a gleam in her eyes, “Is to ask for the pretzels and when they bring it to the window, pull out your credit card. They will tell you that they only accept eagle cash, and then you say ‘Alright, well, I guess I don’t need a pretzel anyways.’ To this, they will say you can just have the pretzel. This plan is fool proof, Jacki!”

I was doubtful and suspicious, to boot. It seemed so simple and really, so conniving. I begged and pleaded for someone else to go. I just couldn’t take advantage of my feminine qualities. I did a fake out, pretending to walk up there, only to walk back after the appropriate time had passed to tell her “Aww shucks! They weren’t there.”

I thought I was in the clear. Instead, she plopped down in front of the pretzel stand and I plopped down with her. Before I knew it, she was flashing her pearly whites and giggling. A grown women! Giggling, of all things! And from there, those poor pretzel boys never stood a chance. I won’t say that I didn’t enjoy my cinnamon and sugar pretzel with caramel and freshly squeezed strawberry lemonade… because obviously I am ALWAYS a fan of food. But I did feel a little guilty. And now that I know what I am capable of, well. Quite frankly, I’m fearful for the opposite sex. It will probably start off small, something like “Hey there big guy, would you mind carrying this bag for me?” and then escalate to something else. I can’t think of what, maybe picking up my laundry or something… but I have learned a very dangerous trick. Not even a trick. More like a trade.

Hope this e-mail finds you all well!

<3 Jacki