What Goes Around

I've been hearing some new names of churches lately.  I don't like any of them.  Why is it that we have to have fancy new names?  Will it make people come?  I won't name them here so as not to offend anyone, but I'm sure you can think of a few yourself.  If I could choose a name for a church, I would simply name it "Church".  Then it would make it easy to answer.  Where do you go to church?  I go to "Church".  But now we have to say silly things like, "I go to Washing Stone." or "I go to River Flowing".  And make sure you have a coffee shop in your church if you really want to be progressive. OK, our church doesn't have a funny or catchy name.  Maybe we should change it.  But for now it is what it is.  We meet in a hotel conference room.  Sometimes the electricity goes out.  Yesterday the powerpoint worked during practice time but almost at the beginning of the service it stopped working.  The poor song l...

Last week there was a horrific gang rape in the city.  Actually, every rape or gang rape is horrific, but this one has caught the attention of the city.  So people are protesting and causing problems.  The men themselves who committed the crime would like to be killed.  The poor girl is fighting for her life in the hospital.  And the city is angry. The girl and a guy friend were not out super late.  I think it was around 9PM.  They boarded a bus which is like a tour bus.  These buses go around the city at night because there are too few city buses.  On the bus were six guys.  They beat the guy friend and took turns raping the girl.  The driver kept driving.  Then they did pure evil which I won't go into.   Finally,  they stripped the pair and through them out of the bus.  The girl has had her lower intestines removed and is fighting infection in her body.  She is 23 years old.  There are rapes...

This year I have been invited to a lot of Christmas parties.  Well, not exactly invited, but I have a lot of parties to go to.  And not like I am crashing the parties that I wasn't invited to either.  These are parties like, the school functions, the home that I work at has a party, and church parties.  But I am only going to a few of the parties that I could go to.  The reason being.... okay, i have a list of reasons. 1.  Potlucks - Many of the parties are the kind that you are suppose to bring a delicious dish to share.  I don't cook.  I don't bake.  I don't make delicious dishes.  So I have this dilemma of going if I'm not going to make something.  If it is a big group, then I don't feel bad not bringing something.  But a small gathering would notice that I didn't bring anything. 2.  Crowds - I am socially awkward most of the time, but trying to get better.  I can only take so much on one day.  So if I ha...

Another area in life where I am not perfect in is in giving.  Giving my offering at church is no problem, but it is giving to others that I have a problem with.  Especially when the person asks. Steve is a kind person.  He is much kinder than I am.  That is one of the things I love about him.  We have a friend who borrowed money a few years ago.  He said he would pay us back in 3 days.  He then said he would pay it back in a month.  Six months later he still promised to pay it back.  He doesn't have an education to enable him to get a good job, so he has had to work hard to make money.  Since he never paid us back, I told myself that I wouldn't loan him money again and if he ever asked, I would let him know that it was because he never paid us back that I was not going to help him. Last week this friend came to us.  We knew he had been trying to find a job for a while.  He is now married and has a child to take care of, ...

I have been found lacking.  Or more accurately, I find myself lacking.  I am lacking in patience.  I guess I have known this for a long time, but even more now that our nephew is staying with us.  He is a wonderful 19 year old who is full of life.  He is very talented in many different ways.  I have tried to learn how to play the drums from him when we had a drum set at the house.  I try to be funny like him.  I try to do tricks like him.  He has taught me many things.  But maybe the hardest lesson I have had to learn is to be patient.  Out of all the Weightmans I know, my nephew may be the slowest at leaving the house.  It really is a close race though.  His grandfather is pretty slow.  I don't know how many times I have been rushed to leave the house by Steve's dad only to end up sitting in the car waiting for him to finally come out.  And every Sunday morning Steve says, "Let's go!" and I end up standing ou...

I convinced myself (with the help of friends) to go to the doctor for my weird body feelings.  I decided to just go see a cardiologist and get rid of the worst fears first.  So Steve and I paid the $12. fee to see a specialist and he listened to my heart and told me to get some tests done.  First stop was an ECG.  They hooked me up and let my heart beat for a few minutes before sending me out to the next stop.  We went down the hall to the x-ray area and I got to change into a cute little outfit for my chest x-ray.  The technician lady fixed my hair for me before she took the x-ray.  So sweet.  And I loved the outfit.  But I had to give it back.  Our next step was to go a bit further down the hall to the ECHO area.  I got to change again, but this time it wasn't cute.  I got hooked up and then had to have a guy doctor do the thing that I can't think of the name of, you know, when they use a sonogram to check my heart. Two ho...

For the last two days we have had loud music coming from a block away.  It is too loud!  I mean, if I can hear it in my house louder then I normally play music, then how loud is it for the people at the event?  That is ridiculous.  On a plus side, they seem to have a great sound system. Today is the day when Hindu women walk into water carrying a jug of water.  Something about praying for your husband.  I wonder if there are any hindu holidays where the men pray for the women?  Not that I have heard of. According to Wikipidia, here is what you do during this festival: The rituals of the festival are rigorous and are observed over a period of four days. They include holy bathing, fasting and abstaining from drinking water (Vratta), standing in water for long periods of time, and offering prashad (prayer offerings) and aragh to the setting and rising sun. So maybe it doesn't have anything to do with the husband, but that is what I heard....

Today I had high hopes of cleaning the house.  The boys are all away today at a tournament and I am home alone (which I love).  I thought I would get caught up on laundry, do the dishes, and then some deep cleaning.  Nope.  Instead I had an attack.  Not sure what kind it was, but I ended up in bed for most of the day. It could be a heart attack that I was able to stop before it hit.  I felt a tightness in my chest and my arms were weak.  Or it could be a panic attack.  I felt all tingly and felt I couldn't get enough oxygen.  Whatever it was, it ruined my plans.  I felt weird all day long.  Every time I got up to go do something (like the dishes) I would feel like my legs were half numb.  I took some Advil since I couldn't find the aspirin, hoping it works the same to ward off a stroke. If you don't hear from me ever again, the aspirin didn't work.

I created a new brochure for the NGO that I work with.  It took several reworkings with the printer to get it set nicely and then we printed 1000 copies of it.  We got it back last night and noticed 3 typos.  At first I was shocked that I would somehow miss that and even my computer wouldn't have caught it.  SO I checked the file we sent to the printer and it WAS NOT MY MISTAKE.  Not sure why the printer made any changes to the typing, but he did.  Our fault is that we did not proof-read it after he sent it back.  We were looking at the layout, not the typing (since it was perfect when we sent it).  It only proves we are in India.  There are so many typos on signs and brochures here that it can become a hobby to collect all the mistakes.  Now there is one more brochure for the collection.

So I went out and tried to buy a drying rack for my clothes yesterday.  I was angry.  I told Steve I was going out to buy something I wanted, but didn't tell him what it was.  He was angry also.  So I angrily walked down the street to shop.  I went into the store with the racks out front but unfortunately I didn't have enough money for the rack.  So I left the store and went and bought some snacks for myself.  This is not what you should do when you are trying to be a good example of emotional eating.  I then walked (sulked) home. Steve left to go skateboarding.  He sent me an SMS that said, "I bought your Christmas present."  I was too far gone emotionally so I wasn't happy.  But I know I should be happy.  But really we were both not happy. Today I am happy.  And I think Steve is over his bad attitude too.  Lesson learned - We can be really lame towards each other and maybe we will learn better one day, but not ...

I have been asking Steve to pick up a new clothes rack.  He, for 3 months now, has not done it and refused to do it.  Why?  In his opinion, we don't need one.  I want one!  It has become almost comical when we discuss the silly clothes rack.  I ask him to get one, he says sometimes that he will when he sees one.  Then he doesn't come home with one.  The road to our house has at least four shops selling clothes racks, but he has not been able to see them for some reason.  I now count the clothes racks as I go down the street. Why don't I just get it myself?  Well, I don't drive and I would have to walk with a stupid clothes rack over my shoulder, looking silly.  But since I am use to looking silly I guess I should just go do it.  So that is my plan for this afternoon.  I will walk down the street and buy myself a clothes rack.  I know if I tell Steve that I am actually going out to buy it that he will do it, but I d...

I am taking a free online personal finance class.  Today was a bit depressing.  I had to figure out how much "Larry" would need to put aside into his retirement account in order to live at or around his life style at retirement age.  Well "Larry" will increase his salary 5% each year and get a couple of promotions and by the time "Larry" retires he will be making almost $400,000. a year.  What I think "Larry" needs to do is forget about ever achieving having enough money in his retirement account and instead get a lesser paying job now.  That way he can get use to living a lifestyle that is more like what he will be able to live at when he retires. Poor "Larry"

Our neighborhood has a Saturday night market.  They set up stalls and sell cheap clothes, make-up and hair supplies, pots and pans, vegetables, and plastic stuff.  I went to buy some sweats for Micah since it is getting down to 70 degrees at night these days.  Which reminds me that the sweater vest season is quickly approaching.  You can not find sweater vests at any local market. The market is only a few blocks from our house, down the horrible, awful, no good road.  My walk there was uneventful, but for some reason the walk back was terrible.  Two motorcycles thought that where my next step was happened to be the perfect parking spot, so twice I had to stop in my tracks to avoid getting my toes ran over.  One guy parked and quickly swung his leg over his bike, almost hitting me for the second time in less than 5 seconds. Next I had two different times where groups of young guys on motorcycles (3 guys on one bike) say "Hi!" to me.  Now I kno...

Google Maps said that the drive to the Bird Sanctuary would be about 3 hours.  That sounded okay, but long.  But 3 hours would be doable.  The first hour was spent on the road just outside our neighborhood as we tried to drive to the "highway" that would take us to our destination.  There was a huge jam, as they call it here.  We moved about a car length every 10 minutes.  People were getting out of buses and walking.  We wished we could too. Once we made it to the "highway" we were set.  Not bad, but it certainly wasn't a 3 hour stretch of road.  Maybe with no other vehicle on the road we would have made it in 3 hours, but it was 5 for us.  The last hour was through villages as we tried to find the hotel.  Google maps gave us directions that didn't work for us.  We ended up down a street into a village that had a water buffalo in the middle of a pond.  Turn around.  Go back and try again. We decided that on the ...

I have been in a bad mood now for 4 days at least.  Not sure what to do about that.  The slightest thing can turn my mood bad.  Like when the rickshaw drivers want me to pay double of what it should be.  Thankfully our friends bought me a Dr. Pepper yesterday that I am saving for a bad mood and I think I should drink it now. I hate being around people when I have a bad mood because I don't want to say mean things or make them think I am mad at them.  I think it is best if I just hide out for a while.  But life doesn't allow that luxury.  So if you know me and you think I have been mean to you this week, please know that it is because of a personality defect on my own part and not you. .

My ears are driving me crazy!!!  At least I can find excuses for being driven crazy.  So right now it is my ears.  For over two months now, my ears have felt clogged and my hearing is diminished.  Some days it really is irritating, and this is one of those days.  If there is noise in two different directions then I can't hear clearly either one.  And I live in a land of noise.  In the office their is a noisy air conditioner and when we sit and have a meeting I can't really hear all that is being said.  And when someone calls to me from another room, I can't hear it.  The worst is that when i am walking on the busy street (that is all the streets here in Delhi) I can't seem to hear what is coming from behind me (a car).  Hearing is very important here. I blame it on my dad.  He has some virus apparently that has attacked his ears with the same problem.  Now I have it.  He probably sneezed to close to me.  Whatever t...

Today I need a "Do Over".  The day has not gone well.  I woke up late.  Then the power was out for most of the day.  Then the work I had to do all day long was fixing mistakes.  And on top of all of that, I had a bad attitude all day long. I guess instead of a do over, I will just go to bed and have a better day tomorrow.

I have Muslim friends!!!!  They really are my friends.  I realize that many Americans are afraid of Muslims and think they are all terrorists and that the Koran is of the Devil, but I don't see it that way. Today, on Facebook, a friend posted a picture of a lady who was bloodied and beaten with a Koran "verse" quoted next to it about how it is okay to beat your wife if she needs it.  It really made me mad.  All this does is fuel people's hatred of Muslims and Islam.  What is the point really?  I mean, the only people who would see it would be other Christians, because I doubt this friend has any Muslim friends.  Why stir up more trouble?  Don't we have enough trouble because of our rudeness towards Muslims. Today also, I read that a French magazine is publishing a cartoon about a naked Mohammad.  Why?  Just to cause more problems obviously.  Embassies are being attacked in countries supposedly because of some video insulting Is...

A few weeks ago we watched this video at church.  It is the story of the dream of Veggie Tales creator, Phil Vischer, who had a dream that died.  It reminded me of a dream I had once.  A dream of operating a gym for women in India. The gym was great and horrible at the same time.  But of course now that I am several years after the gym closed what I really remember is how great it was.  I had such great friendships with the ladies who came to the gym.  I really got to be a part of their lives.  And that is what mattered.  And what I thought mattered to God.  But then the gym closed and I no longer had the excuse to be with the ladies each day.  I missed those friendships.  I missed the status I had of owning a gym in India.  I missed having a purpose each day.  What was God doing? I still don't know why God allowed the gym to close, except I know it was for my good.  Because everything God does is done out of ...

There is often talk of aliens.  Like the other day when I talked to my friend Jessica, she talked about aliens.  Well I don't believe in aliens.  I don't see the logic in it.  I mean, why is it that aliens were able to find our planet and we can't find theirs?  The  earth is such a small dot in the whole universe that I doubt anyone would even notice us, yet somehow these aliens have found earth and are able to pass through our atmosphere without burning up.  NASA has taken years to figure out how to go through the atmosphere, with several accidents along the way.  Yet the aliens do it all the time.  Doesn't make sense.  So when I think of how puny we are compared to the whole wide universe and beyond, I just don't think aliens coming to earth makes sense.

Since returning from America 3 weeks ago, I have had numerous clothing crisis days.  Actually I think it is something like 21.  I just had another one.  This morning I decided to wear some clothes.  So I went to the closet to first find a shirt.  Surprisingly I found one that would work well for this humid weather we are having.  Now to find a pair of pants that would go with the shirt and feel comfortable.  Well I don't know if my back side that I sit on has grown in the last three weeks or what, but several pairs of pants would not work.  They are way too tight for this environment.  I don't think I could even bend my leg to go up the stairs without worrying about ripping a hole in them. Something happens to either my clothes or my body on the airplane flying back and forth to America.  It works both ways.  When I arrive at my destination the clothes (or my body) seem to change forms.  The pants that I wore in America ...

I have always had a thing with eyes.  I have been told that I have pretty eyes.  I find them kind of boring, but I appreciate the compliments.  I am also attracted to eyes.  But I also hate anything that has to do with touching an eye.  I could never wear contacts for this reason. Once, when I was younger, I got something stuck in my eye.  My mom tried to wash it out but I squirmed and probably made it worse.  So finally we had to go to the emergency room and the thing had to be drilled out.  I had to wear a patch over my eye for a couple of days.  And the next day at church we seemed to sing all the songs about eyes.  "Open My Eyes Lord"  "Open the Eyes of My Heart Lord" and others like that. I decided to do a little craft yesterday that went along with my eye fetish.  I made what I call Eye Candy.  They are magnets of eyes.  And I even took pictures so you could see and copy me.  Step 1 -  Find e...

The dictionary defines "High Maintenance" when used as a person, as someone who is emotionally needy or requiring much attention.  According to that definition, Steve is not high maintenance.  But that is what I describe him as. Steve likes a lot of things.  He likes shoes (at least 4 pairs came back from America with us).  He likes shirts (three stacks of t-shirts in his closet).  He likes hats.  And he likes sunglasses. Steve is also one of those people who will get to the car and realize he forgot something and have to go back inside for it.  I just tell myself, "Too Bad!" and suffer without the needed item. \ Steve just seems to need more than I do.  I wouldn't say it is an emotional need, but a material need.  So is that high maintenance?

OK, not really.  We arrived down in Southern California yesterday.  As we drove over the Grapevine, there was a 10 mile back-up on the other side because of a wreck.  Horrible.  So I turned the news on to hear about what they said the problem was.  It is then that I heard the live coverage of the riots in Anaheim.  It sounded crazy.  As we continued our drive we continued to listen to it and I felt more and more uneasy about being in California.  And as we drove along, cars zipped in and out at speeds of at lest 80 mph.  It feels like I am in a different country.  Riots, accidents, crazy drivers....  Where am I?  We go back to India next week.  I guess this week is preparing me for India.  If I remember right, I said that same thing the last time we were in California on our way back to India. 

Today is the last day at my parents' house before we head back to India.  It is always sad to say these two year good-byes.  It is a weird feeling to think  of not seeing someone for two years.  I will miss not being able to see my parents, not being at the holiday gatherings, not being here for birthdays, not being here for helping when my parents need it (not that they are getting old or anything), and I will miss just seeing them. We have been able to have lots of fun together during the last two weeks.  We have seen lots of pretty places, gone swimming, visited the snow, eaten lots of home cooked food, played games, and just hung out.  I will have to hold on to these memories until we can make more.  Thankfully I have a few pictures to look at. Good-bye Mom and Dad!  Thanks for taking care of us.

I've been to some beautiful places in my life.  I have visited the Alps, which is extremely lovely and refreshing.  I have been to the Rift Valley, which is amazingly majestic.  But the most beautiful place on earth, in my opinion, is Northwest America (Oregon and Washington).  I have lived in Portland for several years of my life and think that it is the prettiest city on earth.  On this trip I flew into Seattle and it must be the 2nd prettiest city.  The lush green vegetation all around, the beautiful mountains, and the lakes and rivers that dot the states makes this area THE MOST BEAUTIFUL PLACE ON EARTH! Here are some photos for those of you who haven't been here.  I didn't take them because my photography skills just don't do it justice.

Micah got a haircut today.  We (I) found a picture of a long haired Tom Cruise that looked pretty good and Micah agreed to it.  We went to a little shop owned by some Vietnamese ladies and they looked at the picture.  He probably has the cleanest hair ever now since I paid extra for them shampooing it.  He liked it at first but now is wearing a hat and saying he looks like a mushroom.  I just hope he gets use to it.

Today was my first ever mammogram.  It wasn't bad at all.  Didn't feel like two books being smashed against me.  Just pressure.  But my doctor experience wasn't all that good.  I have a bladder infection (I tend to get them a lot).  One symptom of a bladder infection is that I have to go to the bathroom a lot.  And I tend to hold it as long as I can.  So instead of going to the bathroom before I left for the doctor, I held it and decided to go when I got there.  No problem usually.  But this time, the minute I walked into the bathroom the urge overtook me and I started to notice a little leakage.  I know this is shocking that I am telling the whole world this, but I wet my pants (a bit).  I couldn't get my pants down fast enough so I ended up having to take off my undergarment and putting it my purse.  Then I had to pat dry my pants in spots.  Luckily it wasn't all wet right in the middle.  It tended to go down ...

I have always had really good fingernails.  They grow fast and strong.  The other day I was looking through a magazine that is on the coffee table here and came across an article on new fingernail designs and decided to try it out.  Here is what it is suppose to look like. And here is what mine turned out like.

Today we were able to visit Children of the Night in California.  They help children out of prostitution all across America.  We toured their home and even talked to some of the girls, who were all sweet.  What a great program they have for the children.  Looks like great schooling options during the day.  Then they have activities and different sessions later in the day.  And they are able to go on field trips each week to places like the beach, water parks, or other fabulous outings. What a wonderful program!  I am amazed at how much they can offer to the children.  http://www.childrenofthenight.org/

This morning I had an english muffin.  I suppose that is something that people can make at home, but I certainly will never do that.  So I only get them in America.  And I don't think I have ever actually bought them for myself, so I only get them at other peoples' homes. Nothing to do with bread, but........I  just came back from the gas station down the street to get a drink.  I chose to go with the medium.  Small is just too small.  And the large was gluttonous.  So the 32oz. was the medium choice.  I'm still pretty amazed at the sizes here. A few days ago I was reading in the book of John that Jesus is the bread of Life.  I know this shouldn't be a new thought to me, but it struck me as if I had never thought of it before.  I was reminded of the manna that the Isrealites were fed.  Each day they gathered manna and were satisfied.  Extra for the Sabbath.  So I was struck by the thought to each day eat of Jesus...

I had this problem a few years ago when we visited America too.  I see too many fat people.  We are in Southern California.  Arrived yesterday.  Usually the people here don't seem fat to me.  I always have pictured people here to be athletic and thin.  You know, the kind who wear bikinis and actually look good. Well this time it is different.  Everywhere I look I see fat people.  We were at a mexican restaurant yesterday and there was a buffet lunch (I didn't choose buffet).  The other customers just seemed big to me.  Maybe it is that I am use to the Indian build, thin shoulders, small bodies.  Then today we were out again and the people at Old Navy were all this weird apple shape.  The legs were fine but the bellies were so big. I realize it is rude to talk about people this way.  It isn't that I think I am better than anyone else because I am thinner then them.  I don't think I am thin myself, just thinner then ...

Waiting is a part of life.  And part of it is part of my last name.  So in a way, part of me is part of life.  Or, I am life.  Something like that. Anyway, I am waiting now for The Office episode to download so I can watch it.  Our internet has been so slow lately and sometimes just stops working altogether, so I am learning to multitask.  While I watch The Office, I also write blogs, paint my toenails, take a nap, or clean the house.  And sometimes I watch half an episode and the internet goes off and I have to start all over again. Steve isn't as patient as I am.  He watched the first 5 minutes (which took about half an hour) and then decided to go watch a movie on the other computer.  Not me though.  I wait.  It is just part of who I am.

I get to sometimes take a shared auto to the metro station.  I know I have talked about them before and I still don't have a picture, but here is more thoughts on the shared autos. I realized yesterday that the seats are about the right size for 4 normal (small) Indians to fit on, or maybe 3 average Americans.  However, they are not made for three Indians and one American.  My sitter is just too big.  If I am the last one on the seat I end up with just one of my cheeks fitting on the actual seat and the other is hanging mid-air and a bit on the person next to me, which is usually a male.  I have to support myself on my one cheek so as not to burden the person next to me with me sitting on their lap.  It is quite uncomfortable and my legs usually are shaking by the time we arrive. It is really weird to get so close to complete strangers.  Then we all stare at each other for about 15 minutes.  Now we are all sweating and can't even move our arm...

I requested a donation of magazines for the girls at the girls home.  I wanted (and requested) travel magazines or home and garden type.  What I have gotten are fashion magazines and a few men's health (with lots of articles on sex).  I don't know what to do with all the magazines.  I want to teach the girls to make jewelry out of the, but I don't want them to be gazing at the fashion models and sexy clothes.  So far I was able to cut out jewelry pictures for my Sunday School class to make pretty crowns.  I have also torn out the perfume samples to put in my drawers.  But now what?  I could go through them all and tear out the bad pages, but that would be a lot of work.  Or maybe I could just tear out the good pages.  That might not take as long. Who buys these magazines anyway?  None of the fashions in the magazines are normal.  Nor are they prized in such a way that a normal person could buy.  I mean, who pays $1000. ...

I try to tell myself that the things I find weird here in India are just different. I shouldn't find it weird or wrong. But there is one thing I just can't come to grips with. I haven't been able to find a reason for the way people write on walls, furniture, or anything within reach when there is a pen or pencil lying around. This has annoyed me for years. One time we had friends over and the teenage boy wrote on Micah's wall, "Micah room". And the other day I noticed that there is writing on the wall at the girls' home. I also caught a girl writing on the table. I told her that we don't do that here, we write on paper only. I've had people write on my sugar container lid, my table, my wall, my bookshelf, and my tablecloth. I have seen people write on their clothes, their walls, their shoes, or their bed. I can't make sense of it. I now make a point of hiding all our pens and pencils when our friends come over.

I don't like using public toilets, not even at work. But today I had to. So I went in and noticed that the window was slightly open. Maybe a two inch opening. I noticed that the view was to the balcony next door (less than 20 feet away). But no one was on the balcony and any delay in my sitting down is an opportunity for an accident, so I sat. And wouldn't you know it, the minute I sat down a lady came out on her balcony to hand clothes. She was facing my window. I realized that I couldn't see her face which meant that she couldn't see mine. But from her angle she could clearly see my legs and lap sitting on the toilet. Probably she could see my pants around my knees. I sat there in agony, waiting for her to leave, but she just kept flapping the clothes around up there. So I decided to quickly do the stand up and pull up motion quickly. But my pants caught on the toilet seat and made a loud crash. I'm sure it drew her attention to the open window. I g...

I have always had an eye thing. I love eyes and I hate them. I love to see beautifully colored eyes and can just stare at them. But I hate people touching their eyes or having someone touch my eyes, or most things about eyes. Today I went with two girls to the eye doctor. I decided to get my eyes checked also. After the doctor looked at our eyes for a few minutes he sent us back out to the waiting room and had the nurse come put drops in our eyes. I absolutely hate have drops put in my eyes. Always have. So when he came to put them in my eyes I kept squinting and the drops would not go in. He finally gave up and a lady with me tried. I think I got half a drop in each eye. The embarrassing thing is that all the people in the waiting room were looking at me and smiling. But the good thing is that I had to keep my eyes closed for 5 minutes so I couldn't see them.

I just finished my P90X Plyometrics workout. I've got to say that it was much easier then it use to be. I guess all the Insanity workouts helped prepare me to somehow be awesome! Just kidding of course. It is never a pretty thing. I always imagine myself to be in the video as the person who has never done the workout before and is dying in the background. One thing that really made me realize the improvement in my athleticism is the rock star jumps. When I first did P90X I could hardly do one jump, but now I can get my fat little legs up in the air without any problem. The real problem is my lack of perseverance. I tend to give up the last 3 seconds. I find that true in everyday life. I love to be early but I also love to leave early. I quit! I like to get out. I bet I will retire before I'm 65.

I have tried both P90X and Insanity and I prefer P90X. Now, to be fair, I didn't do all of the Insanity workout where I did finish P90X. Yesterday I commented to Steve, "I find it amazing that I workout as much as I do yet I still have a big stomach." He still hasn't figured out what he "should" try to solve and when he "should" just agree with me. This was one of those times that he tried to solve it in a helpful suggestion of, "You have to watch what you eat" Not helpful! I told him how he should have responded and we started over. I again said, "I find it amazing that I workout as much as I do and I still have a big stomach." To which he responded, "It is amazing." Right response! Quick learner. When I did P90X, I really noticed a difference in my body. With Insanity I believe my cardiovascular system is healthier. But since I still get winded going up three flights of stairs, I think I would prefer to s...

Yes, it is true, I hate toenails. Who is with me in this sentiment? I really want to know that I am not the only one out there who hates her own toenails. I don't mind other peoples' toenails, but mine drive me crazy. There are a lot of things that drive me crazy though. Not sure which thing is the thing that pushed me over the edge into insanity, it could have been my toenails. I want my toenails to be pretty, and they are good looking, so that isn't a problem. I actually think I have nice feet. They have a good shape, and the toenails add something to the whole foot. But they bug me. They just feel so weird. Especially the little toenail. I find myself touching them all the time. Maybe my toenails are more sensitive then other peoples'. Anytime I can feel the edge of the toenail starting to grow out a bit, I cut it short. If it feels too think I will file it flat. I've almost filed all the way through the toenail before and had to let it grow out fa...

We will be going to America this summer and I am already making my list of what things I am looking forward to. Besides people, here is my list so far. Dr. Pepper in a big cup with ice, salad at the Roadhouse Grill, garage sales where I can buy junk, thrift stores for the same reason, carpet, fresh air, driving without totally stressing out and needing to take a nap, church, wearing shorts, Mexican food, cheese, watching TV, drinking water straight from the tap or even from a hose outside, grass, being relatively normal, Knotts Berry Farm, sidewalks that don't smell like pee, crossing the road without risking my life, bathtubs, drive-thru fast food, Target, shopping for clothes that fit, soft towels that have been in a dryer, dish washer that disinfects dishes, and beef. That is just the beginning of my list. I should also mention that I will miss things here, but it is only for two months so I'm sure I can do without them.

Comments to my blog really boost my ego. I hope that doesn't make you not want to comment. It makes me want to write more. I also write blogs on the Courage Homes blog. Just recently we had a new website created (because the old one was LAME) and for some reason we were now getting lots of comments. The only thing is that they were a bit odd. They said nice things in a weird way. And didn't actually comment on the blog, just very generic. But it felt really good to see all those comments. Until today when I deleted them all because they are spam. Each and every one of the comments was spam (I think). I even had to delete one of the blog postings that seemed to be attracting all the spam. So now my ego boost was boosted in the opposite direction. What do you call that? Ego slam!

When I am under stress I get mean. My responses to people are not loving. Just ask Steve. Well for a couple of weeks now I have been stressed out. I mean totally. My stomach hurts. My head hurts. I can't sleep. And I have even cried (which is not like me). So finally I decided I would like to be prayed for. A friend does inner healing prayer or theophostic prayer so I asked her to pray with me. It is always interesting to see where these prayer times go. We ask God to show me where there is a lie that I believe in my life concerning the feelings I have. Then we ask God to tell me the truth or speak to me in some way. God reminded me of a time when I was young and feeling out of control in a situation. I just felt the need to do something. I can't just sit around and ignore a problem. I must do something. And that is exactly how I am feeling now. So as I prayed about this and asked God to speak, I felt God say to me, "It is good. That is how I created you ...

Sometimes girls coming from a brothel situation think that they want to go back. It is hard to imagine for us who have read up on trafficking and the lies that are told to a girl to keep her trapped. A girl truly thinks that she is making good money. When asked where her money is, the answer is that the brothel owner is keeping it for her until she goes back to her village. We know that there is little or no money being kept for her. It may be entered into a registry for her to see, but what she doesn't see is the payments that she will be expected to pay. She will be charged for room and board, medical, clothing, or anything else the owner can think of. Not until a girl tries to leave does she realize how much she still owes.

Did you know that there is a tribe or community of people in India that believe the women and girls should prostitute themselves as a way to support the family? This is a horrible tradition that continues generation after generation. A young girl, when she enters puberty, will be "sold" for several hundred dollars. After that, a girl can not marry, so she must remain a prostitute. In this tribe, men are non-contributors to the financial stability of the family. They are against changing this tradition. What is wrong with the world?

I think that the Indian street dogs are the toughest around. They seem to be able to survive the strangest ailments. A few years ago there was a dog that snuck into our house while I was picking Micah up from the bus in front of our house. He saw it go in thankfully. The silly dog went into the bathroom and laid down. I couldn't get him to move. I tried pizza and yelling at him to leave, but he just wouldn't. So I went to the neighbor's house and told them that I had a dog that wouldn't leave. They stopped a guy on the street to have this guy help get the dog out. There was a door from the bathroom outside, so it really wasn't a hard walk for the dog, but he just didn't want to go out. So this man had to beat the dog with a stick. There was blood in my bathroom from the dog. I know the dog already had a bloody ear when he came in, but I imagine he got more wounds from the beating. Well a couple of days later, this same dog came walking down the stree...

"In A City With No Hope" by Linzie Joerres "There's a girl who's all alone in a city with no hope All around her, girls are dying, she sees it and she's crying 'cause it all started with their trying to find a better world than the ones they'd always known. She sits alone on the damp floor in the looming dark. Her face has gotten hard and dull and painfully stark. Her heart is growing cold here as she fights the fear of growing old here, forever trapped here in these walls, in this cage. She fights the rage. She was lied to and deceived by the hope of something more. She was tricked into believing that there was something worth fighting for. The woman and man, they opened up their hands to her, promised life to her dreams, made her think that these things were obtainable, reachable, but as she reached, the shackles came down on her hands, and all of her plans went up in smoke as they forced her to smoke to get her addicted. Her life thus far has...

Last week was my turn to teach Sunday School to the 3-5 years olds. I seem to walk away from these classes feeling like a huge failure of a teacher. I doubt I can bring myself to volunteer for the next season. Our story was the blind man that Jesus healed. The lesson was about Jesus caring for us. I asked the kids if they knew how Jesus healed the man. I gave them a hint that it was something gross. The first kid said, "Did he touch his head?" I told him that it isn't gross to touch someone's head. So the next kid said, "Did he lick his head?" I love the answers they give. I explained how Jesus spit in the dirt and then put the dirt on the man's eyes. Then we played a game. I put a blindfold on a kid and handed them a toy or something. They guessed what it was and I would ask, "Can a blind person play with this car?" or "Can a blind person read this book?" They would respond, "NO!" Even when the thing was a comb...

Sometimes I feel the urge to hurt someone. There, I said it. Now my counselor can prescribe something for me. Okay, and here is more, sometimes I talk about death. I blame it on my dad. He says he thinks about death too. But today I am only talking about hitting someone, not killing anyone. There are some really stupid people in the world. For instance, those people who beat children. If a grown person, male or female, thinks that it is okay to hit a small person so hard that they can't move their arm, then I think that the grown person needs to know how it feels. Just punishment I think. I would like to walk up to that person with a metal rod and smack them on their arm while yelling at them and say, "How does that feel???!!!!!" I doubt Jesus would do something like that. And really, I wouldn't either, but I imagine it.

Actually, this is day three of being sick. I haven't been sick in years. I also make fun of people who get sick all the time, so this is probably only right for me to get sick. I am a really lame nurse to sick people. I have no patience (ha ha). But now it is my turn and I am kind of feeling sorry for myself. No one has offered to massage my belly or bring me anything. I have had to ask for things. Boo hoo. So here is what it is like being sick. First thing I did was eat too much food. It just sat at the base of my ribcage for the whole night. Nothing digested. So finally at 1AM I decided I needed to get things moving one way or the other. I stood at the toilet thinking about gross things. That didn't work. So then I did some twists and bent over. That started things. I gagged a few times and then presto, the food came up. I felt like a sausage maker. It just came out of me like a big chunk of dinner. I could have put it on a plate and served it. Boy did I ...

This week we had Sports Day at Micah's school. It was a beautiful day and lots of fun activities happened. But it ended with a downer, the awards ceremony. The smaller classes get ribbons for participating, but not the older (Micah) kids. Then they had out ribbons for all the 3rd place awards, then second, and then first. Micah didn't get any ribbons. He did great at many of the events but being the youngest class in the 6th-8th grade level really is a bummer. I'm sure he was almost in tears because I was almost in tears. And what made it worse is that there is another Micah in this age group and so they would call "Micah" and it would always be the other one. I wish we would have left earlier and avoided the whole awards ceremony.

I have been tired of my old clothes for some time now and needing to get fresh things to wear. I go to the American Women's Thrift Store occasionally and try to find things there, but lately there has been nothing. I get a shirt or two now and then, but not pants. So today I decided that since I was going to the mall to meet a friend, I might as well go early and try to find some pants. Clothing in India is made differently than clothing for Americans. Indians are so much skinnier and just built differently than I am. I knew that it was going to be a challenge to find pants, but I didn't know it would be impossible. First I went to the cheap store at the mall. I looked at the jeans section, which were a bit pricey for me, but there was a sale going on. I tried on several pairs that wouldn't go up pass my thighs. I left that section and walked the rest of the store. Tried on a few more pants that didn't fit and went back to the jeans. I asked a lady for help. ...

The other day I was talking to a small group of people in my home. I had just met them and brought them to my home to talk about our aftercare home. One of the guys had long hair and we were talking about how in India, if you have long hair, people confuse you with being a lady. Like at the Metro station here, there are lines for the security check. One line is for women. So the Indians often would direct him to go through the ladies security check area. My inappropriate comment of the day was, "Well wouldn't that be a surprise for the lady patting you down." I had to laugh at myself later. When I first meet someone, I should try harder to be on my best behavior.

NEW DELHI: Inside a dank, dilapidated cloister for orphans in a Walled City bylane, a girl died a lonely death - writhing in pain in the dark shadows of the hellhole before bursts of diarrhoea and incessant vomiting snuffed out her life. The 11-year-old died just a day after she was brought back from hospital. There was a curt one-liner scribbled in the orphanage records - death due to natural circumstances. But what lay hidden in the footnote was a story that can pull you up in convulsion of horror and shame. The girl's autopsy report showed she had been repeatedly raped and even forced into unnatural sex for several months. A case has been lodged in the Jama Masjid police station and cops are questioning the orphanage staff and inmates to track down the culprits. TOI conducted a thorough investigation into the incident and what unfolded was a shocking trail of exploitation and trample of innocence inside the orphanage - where a two-foot wall separates the girls' quarters from...

You just never know what God will use. I was thinking about all the skills I have learned that I could write on a resume. One of the skills that I learned to do in the past week is grant writing. At our aftercare home we applied for a UN grant. Three of us worked on it. None of us have ever written a grant proposal before. So we know that if we are selected for the grant that it will be a complete God thing. But now I can say that I have written (or helped write) a grant proposal. So what other skills do I have? Like Napoleon Dynamite, my skills are varied. When I worked for Payless Drug Store I was probably taught the most skills. Here is a quick list of things that come to mind: cash register (before scanners and after), 10 key, laminating machine, copy machine, 1 hour photo developer, writing hunting/fishing licenses, perfume skills, make-up skills, customer service skills, bookkeeping skills, driving a fork-lift, credit card machine, facing skills. I have used some of t...

I follow human trafficking on Twitter. I know, you didn't know I was so hip. Well, somehow I figured out how to sign up for something useful. One of the big topics in the past couple of months is about a petition to get a website called backpage to take down their escort services and body rub advertisements. Backpage is like Craigslist it seems. So you can go on and find local services or items to buy. Several ladies have been killed recently after a guy has found them on Backpage and then met up with them. So I decided today to have a look at what all the fuss is about. I just chose Portland, OR as a city and looked at the escorts section. I was shocked and saddened at what I found. There must be an age requirement on it, because the youngest girls were 18 years old. So what I saw as I looked at a few postings were R-rated pictures of girls selling their services. But what I saw under that is human trafficking. What is the story of this girl? Is she being forced to l...

We still have our Christmas tree up but we don't turn on the lights anymore. And if you ask me, the lights were the best part of the tree. Now the tree has skateboards piled around it. The lights had to plug into a electrical strip and we needed it elsewhere, so now the lights can't be turned on. I just wonder how long I can go before I put the poor tree away. But one of the problems is that I never got around to buying Micah his Christmas ornament for the 2011 Christmas, so I feel I need to have that before I can pack up he decorations. So I guess until that happens, we won't be able to put our tree away.

One thing I hate about our fancy toilets, is that the hole is too far back. So when people use it, they often leave a skid mark on the toilet bowl above the water line. It is never me though because my rear sits back far enough on the toilet. So I don' want to clean the toilet bowl every time this happens since I think it should be the person who made the mark. So the mark stays there for a day or two until enough flushing washes it away, or maybe Bimla (househelp lady) cleans it. It isn't right that Bimla should have to clean it either. Poor lady. But why doesn't the person who makes the mark ever think of cleaning it?

I really wish my camera worked so I could add pictures of our peanuts, but alas, it doesn't. When we were in Thailand several weeks ago, my friend Jennifer made homemade peanut butter. I helped. And since I did the last part, I got the most credit. I know people are just trying to encourage me to be more cookish, but I know Jennifer is the real hero. So making peanut butter is not too hard. You roast your peanuts in a big wok and add some honey to it. Get those raskly peanuts all warm and toasty. Then you put some in a blender and add oil and blend it. That was my job. You can add more honey or sugar if you want. And presto, you have peanut butter. And it was really good. Our friend from Ethiopia was staying there too and she made a nice bread on the top of the stove. It went great with the peanut butter. And Dan (husband of Jen) bought some homemade mango jelly which also was delicious. So we all contributed to the peanut butter in our own special way. Steve thought ...