No More Cats!

We FINALLY got rid of the kittens a few weeks ago. My allergies and cleaning ladies couldn't have been happier.

I think its obvious to even the most casual of readers my utter disdain for any and all things feline, except for this:

But, thankfully, we found homes for all four of Little F*cker's bastard children. Two went with Anael's French colleague for his children, one went with another French teacher, and the runt (the stupid one with the flat head) went to one of the Peace Corps volunteers. Mama F*cker was left to her own devices, because nobody wants a needy, constantly meowing poop machine that does absolutely nothing except get pregnant and expect you to deal with it.

Even the dumb one did better.

Anyway, here are some pictures in remembrance of the mangy rascals that made sleeping in my apartment a living hell for about a month.

Even I have to admit this is cute.

Yuck. Sure they look cute there, but they pooped on that sofa!

They are so dumb.

Everyone wanted the white one. For the record: I wanted NONE OF THEM.

Whoa! Almost forgot...

...that this existed!

Sorry Mom, I'm not dead. It's been a busy two months. I'll have some posts up soon. Until then, here's a few pictures of what's been going on.

Went to Tel Aviv, saw that they have MEAT-ings there. What up laxbros.

Just a herd of sheep crossing where I walk to work everyday.

I exploded our oven...and was rewarded with an impromptu haircut!

My friend Al'a had a surprise birthday party! I just like the photo, really.

Guess where I went again...

The Infestation Continues

Several months ago, a small cat started hanging out near our apartment. Anael, having a soft spot for cats, decided to start letting it in our apartment and feeding it. I was opposed to this on a very basic level. However, the cat (who we affectionately named "Little F*cker") appeared to be an abandoned house cat. She was good around people, clean, and relatively polite. And, kicking her out of the apartment gave me endless pleasure.

Like Mr. Banks kicking out DJ Jazzy Jeff, but with claws.

Our landlord had already forbidden us from having a cat in the apartment, which Anael, in his typically French way, politely ignored at every turn. So, a few weeks ago, we noticed Little F*cker (or LF) began to look kinda fat. I chose to ignore the obvious, hoping that she was just a gluttonous little pig and that she didn't have a progressively larger distended belly every time I saw her...

Jeez, lay off the carbs. Maybe we should have named her Little Porker...

We knew that she was going to pop soon, and like any good animal lovers, we wanted nothing to do with it. We decided to take LF to the rich neighborhood of Amman and leave her there, hoping the food scraps would be enough to provide her new kittens with the gross, garbage sustenance they need.

People gotta eat, even Shame Dog.

Well, God has a way of laughing at your plans, because the night we were going to toss her out on the streets like the Good Lord intended, her water broke all over our floor.

Let's just say that this is what it looked like...

A few hours later, the amount of cats in our apartment had quintupled.

That means four kittens. 4 + 1 = 5

Here is our maternity ward. MORE THAN WHAT SHE DESERVES.

Please, come take one.

Absent, deadbeat dad, living off of handouts, popping out kids everywhere with no plan for the future...what a horrible mother.

"Whatever Greg." Typical F*cker.

DEAD 2 RED MARATHON

The Amman Road Runners, a Jordanian running club, has been hosting a marathon and cycling relay from the Dead Sea to the Red Sea every year for the last 12(?) years. A few weeks ago, I organized two teams of CIEE students to participate in this madness. It's 242 kilometers of mind-numbing, knee-grinding desert beauty. We began at 4:00 PM and ran through the night into the next morning, and I got to run through the desert in the middle of the night.

So. Awesome.

So every runner completed a half-marathon each (roughly). Photos by my good friend Zach Ruchman. Except the last one.

What a great action shot! I'm deceptively athletic!

For Yates. Durr.

Sunset by the Dead Sea. How's home, guys, by the way?

These were our rides. GIT ON THE MAGIC SCHOOL BUS!

This was at about 5:00 AM. Most of us were weighing the benefits of cheating vs. suicide at this point.

Team Cool Runnings: 19 Hours, 15 Minutes. 23rd Place. We earned it.

Some of the highlights included:

It was brutal.

My Jordanian Flat, Round 2

These pictures are long overdue, so I'll do a pictorial breakdown for shiggles. I've been living in a quiet, historically significant neighborhood called Jabal Weibdeh with a French teacher named Anael.

That's "Baby Angel" in Gaelic. Awwww.

I live on a hill just above the busy downtown area of Amman called Wast Al-Balad (Or Downtown Center in Arabic).

Isn't it just darling? The schools are great, and there's hardly any white people!

This is where the Friday Bazaar usually is. That is an experience in and of itself, post pending.

So, I went from this:

Messy.

To this:

What an upgrade!

The amenities are enough to make the Sultan of Brunei jealous.

Exhibit A:

Yes, that is a stereo embedded into OUR COUCH!

Exhibit B:

And a stereo embedded into my roommate's headboard! What kind of kinky harem is this?

Exhibit C:

I mean, are there even words?

Exhibit D:

Guess whose room this is?

There is one negative to this apartment though.

Call the exterminator.

I've been learning to cope.

Through thinly-veiled aggressive hatred, mostly.

And that's my place! Come and visit!