So my daughter is in faraway European City Where the Prime Minister Sadly Isn't Really Hugh Grant, and I call her to let her know what is going on in my life. The first thing she says is: "So when you going to go the doctor's? All your blog friends think you should get that knee looked at."
Yes, she has figured out how to find free wireless and read her mother's blog.
Beautiful Smart Wonderful Daughter has been living in Big City Where People Have British Accents for a whole week now. I've gotten emails from her, and we've talked by instant messenger, but it was still wonderful to hear her voice. Her flat is not very far from where I lived, 25 years ago, and I can just picture the scenes she described.
She said the streets are filled with little Arab kids, just like the apartment building I lived in. Over the phone, I taught her a few words in Arabic so that she can get to know her neighbors. That is the cool part about big cities: you can learn about all kinds of other cultures without even going to those countries. Perhaps the most amazing part of the semester I spend in London was the time I spent with the women and children in my building, who were all from Saudi Arabia and who lived in London just as they would in Saudi. None of them spoke any English at all, yet they welcomed me into their flats and treated me like a sister. My first exposure to Middle Eastern music and dance happened on lazy afternoons in those flats when I was just hanging out with my Saudi neighbors.
Of course, my daughter is also doing the tourist stuff Americans are absolutely obligated to do when you arrive in a European city, like going to the Famous Square Where People take Photos of Each Other on Statues and Feed the Birds. She's taking classes, of course, and hoping to do an internship as well. So far, she said, nothing has been a challenge, the adjustment has been easy. But then again, that has been the story of her life.
Oh, and the answer to her question? Tomorrow. Unless I wake up and feel miraculously cured, I am calling Orthopedic Guy first thing in the morning.