mystery interviewer: you've made quite a habit of actually soliciting comments in your blogs lately. can this be interpreted as an indication that you like getting these comments and perhaps receive some level of pathetic affirmation from knowing people are actually reading?
m.i.: is this admission a similarly masked invitation for more comments?
j: hm. not sure i want to admit that one, mystery interviewer. let's hear from someone else. anyone?
aaron: how's the milk down there?
j: better than spain's, that's for sure. they have the boxed stuff that doesn't have to be refrigerated like the milk + sawdust combination that nearly had me give up breakfast in sevilla, but they also have real milk, which for some reason is sold in bags. i recently had my first successful opening and poring of one of these bags, wherein i only spilled lots of milk instead of all of it.
timmy: how long is it until the world cup?
j: well, timmy, it is 50 days. i know this because the newspaper puts a countdown to the world cup on the front page every day. which i think is incredibly awesome.
emily: do you guys have manzana sol or manzana lift down there?
j: i really don't know! i've never seen it, but good scientists like you and i know that doesn't conclusively prove it doesn't exist. as far as soft drinks go, say what you want about globalization and whatever evils you believe it brings, i'm glad there's coca cola everywhere in ecuador.
jeremy's mom: are you eating enough while you're there?
j: sorry mom, but probably not. i have moved my belt in to the last notch of my belt already. i haven't stepped on a scale lately, but i'm assuming this is a result in some form of loss of mass.
m.i.: broken hands, birthing babies, drilling holes in bones...do you ever get squeamish with all this amputation and stretching of body parts and blood?
j: i really had no idea when i got here how i'd feel about all of that. i hadn't really wondered, either, but at some point when i was looking at something impressively gross i realized i didn't mind at all and wondered if at some point i'd hit a limit. but on thursday i saw three testicles removed from their owners, and while i definitely felt sad for the rest of the day, i made it through without passing out or, you know, refusing to assist or jumping on the doctor to physically prevent him from continuing. so i think i can handle pretty much anything. although i do plan to observe black thursday annually.
m.i.: wow, that was too much information.
all (but timmy just stares at the floor and coughs): yeah! please shut up.
t: i think you're great, jeremy!
j: thanks, timmy. i think you're great, too. let's do this again sometime!
t: oh, i'd love that!!!
(others grumble. "suck up" and "brown noser" can be heard muttered in the shuffle to the door.)