May 16, 1972
(typed on onion skin)
Dear Hilary,
I decided to write to remind you that I am still alive, though in one of the nether parts of the world, true enough. I like it here, believe it or not, and spend half of my day not speaking English, mainly it’s Spanish or German, but I do work in a little atrocious Persian, which everyone thinks is the cutest thing around. I say something and they go, “nazeeeee,” which sort of means, “awwww, cute!” Cute? Me?
We moved in a new house because the landlord disliked us and tried to cheat us and wouldn’t fix things. I’m not used to the new one yet, but (any) change is welcome. It’s smaller and has practically no yard, but the bus-comrades (spelling?) are very congenial and we can smoke. Big deal.
The new house near Khiabune Zafar (Victory Street) 
The weather has been beautiful--it rains about three times a week--most odd! and I swear that your weather has been warmer lately--I looked it up in the newspaper--than ours--imagine, Iran the desert country with spring-time blizzards and floods! If there are various unexplainable gaps in the above it’s because the commas are off duty today, yesterday the e’s didn’t work, and I had to type a lab report. I like Biology a lot--cutting up frog’s brings out the sadist in me. (Remember Perrrrr-vert? Or whatever it was?)
We’ve been working out our schedules for next year. Because I’m entering the Baccalaureate program I have to take ten courses next year--TEN--count ‘em--History, English, Philosophy (all high) and Math, Biology, Spanish, all sub, which means they are easier than high and on a normal high school level; German, Theory of Knowledge, Common Course (art), and Gym. This brings out the masochist. I’m doing all right, except for my usual indifferent work in Math (or Maths, as our English math teacher calls it), it gives me a pain in the ass that I have to take math for the Bacc., but I suppose if I put my mind to it I can do well enough.
Oh yes, other big news. I’ve got a guy.
5:19:07 AM 
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