Last night we picked out two movies to watch.
Scarface.
And Rikki Tikki Tavi.



I also found scribbles on a notepad from the last time R came for dinner, and we fell into ridiculousness like we often do, Tom Waits playing, S spouting about the fruit and veggies one might eat in North Africa, and R & I discussing the fine details of camels. I rode a dromedary once; they're very interesting animals.

On the legal pad I found she had scrawled "we fall into ridiculousness" in Spanish and then conjugated the verb because I asked her, in my inebriated state, to teach me some espanol, chica. I know enough Spanish (yes, just wrote "spinach" there, which illustrates my point) to get myself in trouble. R teaches Spanish to native speakers in her adult education classes. She's headed to Spain and Morocco in January and says she may attempt to find a job there if the opportunity arises.

She had brought a few travel books to show us where she's going, and to share some ridiculosidads with us. In her travel book about Morocco there are tips for bird watching, and we found this to be a great source of amusement:

To see birds in Morocco:
Dress like an Arab
Do not make sudden movements
Bring a pair of binoculars

Of course the "dress like an Arab" hint appeared directly across from a painting of an overly decorated sheik, complete with gold chains hanging off every appendage and sword in scabbard and multiple layers of multiple colored cloth. Ridiculez.




Rikki Tikki Tavi, written by Rudyard Kipling and narrated by Orson Welles, kicked the Oliver Stone-written (blah blah blah ad nauseum), Al Pacino-acted ("lemmeshring alladesewuhdsdagedda foldat Cooban ting, meng") Scarface's ass.
No contest.