What Is An Expat?

Dec 7, Saturday: (A date which will live in infamy)

Where are you taking this…thing?

I had a bit of a revelation. Strip bars really aren’t my thing. (That isn’t the revelation.) But before that night I guess I had never really spoken to any strippers in a meaningful sense. “So, you’re like, real people, you just take your clothes off, and people give you money?” They were never really people to me before, just these things that wanted your money. Of course, quite a few of them are only that. I certainly have seen enough cases of that to say it for sure. Some, however, are quite smart and personable, and at the end of the day, real people. Consider the case of the single mom trying to make her way in life, in circumstances beyond her control, but there’s an easy way of making the money necessary to survive. In return, she will get propositioned by the sleaziest manner of individuals and looked down upon by “proper society.” She’ll have to hear the same stupid comments from the same faceless people, all of whom think they just said something witty, creative, and original. I suppose I still don’t care for the stripperthings, but I think I have a newfound respect for that other new class of creature I discovered. Some days the world is just there to give you another lesson in life.

Dec 8, Sunday:
Jordan, Laura, and Maggie come up for a visit from Galveston, which is about an hour and a half away or so. We go wander off for an early dinner somewhere near Rice University, and the meander about the campus for a bit. There I saw some of the bravest squirrels I have ever seen, and the most heroic of the bunch walked right up to Joey, who was reaching his hand down to him, and literally grabbed his hand looking for food. Then he gave him a lil’ friendlybite to show his displeasure at not getting any. At some point, Maggie declared me Uncle Robert. That was very touching, actually, and flattering. She doesn’t know that I am not really a very good uncle type. I am trying though, but don’t always know what to do or how yet. Kids are pretty neat, but being around them I feel both affection, and my own ignorance. For some that knew me further back, that prolly still counts as an improvement. I think to myself that I do want kids now, and people tell me “you’d make a great father” but I guess I am a few years further out now than I had been just over a year ago. When I am done however (whenever that is) I know that I will be in a much better position to provide for them. I just don’t want to be too old to play with them and teach them when the time comes.

Went out and saw strippers again. Grrr, baby!