Hi Ho Hi Ho… to the bathroom I will go….

That’s my new theme song these days. To sum it up, I think I am sick. I may have the flu, as well as some kind of intestinal thing. Giardia, amoebic dysentery… or one of those other lovely sounding stomach problems that I am SURE you all want the details about. I like to tell everyone it’s the bird flu, but nobody seems to think I am that funny.

Also, the power has been out recently, and since my house is heated by electricity, well… it has been cold. Having a temperature and then being in a freezing cold house-- not fun. I was either insanely hot, or insanely cold. Now the flu part seems better, but the stomach is worse than ever. I suppose I should call the doctor.

Andrew visited me recently, and pictures should follow showing you some highlights of his visit. He brought me tons of delicious goodies (poptarts, mac and cheese, school supplies, Japanese candy, DVDs, cat toys, and so so so much more). It was all wonderful, and to him and Angela a very very big Thank You.

But, even better than all the good stuff (I know, what COULD be better than poptarts), was just having him visit. I was able to play the tour guide/translator (and Andrew politely pretended to be impressed with my language skills). I had lots of plans for what to do with him, but of course in pure Georgian style, none of them got done. It was such a short visit, and most of what we did was out of obligation to my family and friends here. So Andrew had to be dragged around to meet everyone and barely got to actually see Georgia. Just in case anyone else was thinking about coming to visit, 5 days is most definitely not long enough to actually go and do any of the touristy things. But, overall it was really fun and a great change from my usual daily routine.

It was really hard to see him off at the airport and know he was flying back to a country with all my nighttime television addictions, sushi whenever you want it, the ability to make a phone call without it costing me 50 cents a minute for a crappy connection, WoW (if you don’t know what it is, don’t ask), and everything else that you can’t get in Georgia or just isn’t Georgian. Sometimes you get REALLY sick of not being able to go somewhere (in a marshutka, in a restaurant, to a store, to my own kitchen) without it being filled with cigarette smoke. Or just the thought of being able to go into a clothing store and shop in my language, with sizes that have meaning for me, be given room to breathe, and not feel like buying a sweater is the most torturous experience to go through—sometimes that makes me want to cry. I never though shopping would make me so emotional.

Okay, some of the pictures of his trip should follow (note: some are his pictures and some are mine, any of the pictures that look artistic and/or like only a total tourist would take them, those are Andrew’s). Not all, but more can come later. It takes forever and a day to post these things.