Brother, call home more. Mom and dad miss you.

My brother called home yesterday, much to the joy of our mother, who insists on shouting into the telephone whenever he calls.

Mom, I know he's in Alaska. He can hear you just fine... as can the neighbors.

Brother and I chatted a bit about how cold it is in Artic Circle, AK (-40ish degrees Farenheit; their idea of winter), how warm it is here in Boringsville, MI (40ish degrees Farenheit; a heatwave!), and how cold it will get in High Atlas Mountains, Morocco (40ish degrees Farenheit; their idea of a low). It'll be just like home... except for the lack of indoor heating, personal cars and ability to speak the language.

The most memorable part of the conversation was when I told Brother that I found out that I'd be arriving in Casablanca, shacking up in a hotel in Beni-Mellal and eventually training in the vicinity of Azilal. His reaction was this:

"Oh my God, OH MY GOD! I'm going to Google the shit out of those cities!"

Ah, Brother. I can only hope our Skype conversations will be as colorful.

Speaking of family, I'm officially moved out of my apartment in Fake Ypsi, and am back to living at home with the parentals on The Island. A swift kick to my independence, yes. Death to my social life, yes. I will, however, be showered with our baby's leaving us gifts before I blow this popsicle stand next month. Before that happens, however, I feel the need thank Roommate with a post dedicated to her and her generous offer to take little, homeless, starving me in from the cold. Either that, or a haiku about how pretty she is... whichever will be more embarrassing. :)