Postcard
Abeer dragged me off to the swimming pool in the morning. I really didn't feel like swimming... but then, I never really feel like doing anything. The water was nice and cool. What I love about the pool is the beautiful, deep blue color you can see when you go underwater. It's all fake, of course, because the tiles are blue.. but it's so good to look at.
Arabic class was the usual: translation [first from English to Arabic, then from Arabic to English] and conversation. He also taught me some conjugations. Arabic doesn't have all the complicated binyanim that Hebrew has, but for some reason I find Hebrew much much easier than Arabic.
Before that, when Mr Azam was driving me to the class, he was telling me about how some people in his family died. I know it sounds weird but it was really intense. I felt bad for him, because (a) he said he missed his mother and her love the most and (b) he said he didn't get to see his mother before they buried her :(
Didn't do much at home. mdb_uk sent me a postcard from France. So thoughtful of him. I love him, he's such a bunny on chat. The postcard shows a huge, rocky and icy mountain with scores of cattle feeding on the grass at the foot of the mountain. On the back of the postcard, it says, "Bonjour! Cést un Montagne! (it's a mountain) :·) - Been up one of those, very cold at the top. Hope this finds you well - Marc" The 'Marc' signature has a double underline.
The postcard is addressed to 'Danu Daud', lol. Makes me wanna pinch his cheeks.
I think I'll go iron a shirt and a pair of 'pantaloons' for my interview at St Mary's tomorrow. I really hope my scratchy throat doesn't become the reason for me not getting a seat in this school. What do you do in an interview, anyway? Crack your knuckles?
Arabic class was the usual: translation [first from English to Arabic, then from Arabic to English] and conversation. He also taught me some conjugations. Arabic doesn't have all the complicated binyanim that Hebrew has, but for some reason I find Hebrew much much easier than Arabic.
Before that, when Mr Azam was driving me to the class, he was telling me about how some people in his family died. I know it sounds weird but it was really intense. I felt bad for him, because (a) he said he missed his mother and her love the most and (b) he said he didn't get to see his mother before they buried her :(
Didn't do much at home. mdb_uk sent me a postcard from France. So thoughtful of him. I love him, he's such a bunny on chat. The postcard shows a huge, rocky and icy mountain with scores of cattle feeding on the grass at the foot of the mountain. On the back of the postcard, it says, "Bonjour! Cést un Montagne! (it's a mountain) :·) - Been up one of those, very cold at the top. Hope this finds you well - Marc" The 'Marc' signature has a double underline.
The postcard is addressed to 'Danu Daud', lol. Makes me wanna pinch his cheeks.
I think I'll go iron a shirt and a pair of 'pantaloons' for my interview at St Mary's tomorrow. I really hope my scratchy throat doesn't become the reason for me not getting a seat in this school. What do you do in an interview, anyway? Crack your knuckles?