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M
I’m not often prone to jealousy, and I have no desire to get malaria, but...
...maybe that’s not the best way to start.
A girl I went to high school with is now a missionary in Africa. Except, she will tell you straight up she doesn’t consider herself to be a missionary, that she’s simply there because she took a crazy leap of faith and liquidated her assets and since she can’t exactly go home, she might as well rent a house in Africa. Makes sense, yeah?
Whatever title she she does or doesn’t want to give it, she is absolutely doing God’s work; ministering to the people there, loving them, feeding and clothing and doctoring them. Paying their way to see specialists. Taking young women into her home to give them better opportunities in life- right now there’s a single mom living with her, learning to make and sell doughnuts.
She posts as many stories and photos on Facebook as she can, she documents nearly everything that way. She even posted updates when she had malaria, in the hopes that people here would get a better sense of what that’s actually like.
And all of this is truly inspiring and incredible- people send her money and supplies, and they get to see exactly who it goes to and how it’s used. They get to see the faces of the people their money is helping, and they get to read their personal stories.
In between the posts about her work, she fits in some amazing photography and funny stories about her day.
And selfies. Seriously gorgeous, stunning, creative selfies, in which she looks absolutely beautiful. In Africa. In the heat and humidity. Surrounded by dirt and insects and poverty, often without running water or electricity.
And here I am, surrounded by a world of modern conveniences and easy access to every beauty product known to man (uh, woman), and what do I do with it?
Not very stinkin’ much, that’s what.
She’s over there changing lives and looking all ethereal-bohemian-jungle-princess-glam and I’m over here changing channels and looking all frumpy-frazzled-hobolicious. The heck is this?!
Note- I’m only really a little envious, and mostly only that she’s doing such awesome stuff...although this girl’s eyelashes have no business looking so long and thick when she’s up to her pretty green eyes in hard work and disease.
Notenote- I’ve been following her on Facebook for months and what she’s doing for the Lord has majorly inspired me and dozens of other women in our hometown. Her love for God is evident in everything she posts and I just wanted to share a tiny bit of her story.
...maybe that’s not the best way to start.
A girl I went to high school with is now a missionary in Africa. Except, she will tell you straight up she doesn’t consider herself to be a missionary, that she’s simply there because she took a crazy leap of faith and liquidated her assets and since she can’t exactly go home, she might as well rent a house in Africa. Makes sense, yeah?
Whatever title she she does or doesn’t want to give it, she is absolutely doing God’s work; ministering to the people there, loving them, feeding and clothing and doctoring them. Paying their way to see specialists. Taking young women into her home to give them better opportunities in life- right now there’s a single mom living with her, learning to make and sell doughnuts.
She posts as many stories and photos on Facebook as she can, she documents nearly everything that way. She even posted updates when she had malaria, in the hopes that people here would get a better sense of what that’s actually like.
And all of this is truly inspiring and incredible- people send her money and supplies, and they get to see exactly who it goes to and how it’s used. They get to see the faces of the people their money is helping, and they get to read their personal stories.
In between the posts about her work, she fits in some amazing photography and funny stories about her day.
And selfies. Seriously gorgeous, stunning, creative selfies, in which she looks absolutely beautiful. In Africa. In the heat and humidity. Surrounded by dirt and insects and poverty, often without running water or electricity.
And here I am, surrounded by a world of modern conveniences and easy access to every beauty product known to man (uh, woman), and what do I do with it?
Not very stinkin’ much, that’s what.
She’s over there changing lives and looking all ethereal-bohemian-jungle-princess-glam and I’m over here changing channels and looking all frumpy-frazzled-hobolicious. The heck is this?!
Note- I’m only really a little envious, and mostly only that she’s doing such awesome stuff...although this girl’s eyelashes have no business looking so long and thick when she’s up to her pretty green eyes in hard work and disease.
Notenote- I’ve been following her on Facebook for months and what she’s doing for the Lord has majorly inspired me and dozens of other women in our hometown. Her love for God is evident in everything she posts and I just wanted to share a tiny bit of her story.
So, part of my job is to handle internet fiber issues.
In some cases, fiber issues are caused by accidental cuts OR rodents chewing fiber for dinner.
I've always known that my b.o.s.s. is a bit absurd.
But today was downright ridiculous it's not even funny.
He just asked me to search our archives and find photos of fiber cuts showing.. not just the cut but also the rodent culprit.
I'm basically looking for a rat selfie.
In some cases, fiber issues are caused by accidental cuts OR rodents chewing fiber for dinner.
I've always known that my b.o.s.s. is a bit absurd.
But today was downright ridiculous it's not even funny.
He just asked me to search our archives and find photos of fiber cuts showing.. not just the cut but also the rodent culprit.
I'm basically looking for a rat selfie.
I wouldn't be too envious, MissCris... She's probably sleeping in a tent or a cot instead of a bed, in 100+ degree days and cold nights in unsanitary conditions, dealing with flying insects and mosquitos. Imagine not having a nice clean bathroom, maybe even very little privacy, no store nearby, no home cooked meals, no fast food, maybe just barely enough rations and water to survive, no ice for your drinks, no washing machine, not stove, no microwave, etc., etc.. I'm just saying it's probably no picnic..
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My coworker took over because I gave up (more like unmotivated to do it, it's like a one in a million chance - with the amount of fiber issues we've handled in the last ten years).
Apparently, nothing is impossible.
Lo and behold, he found one from a case back in 2013. There's a dead rat in the photo.
Apparently, nothing is impossible.
Lo and behold, he found one from a case back in 2013. There's a dead rat in the photo.
Whenever I have a splinter that's too small to see or too small to pull out, I grab an x-acto knife with a very sharp blade and use it to gently dig it out by plucking at the skin above the splinter with the tip of the x-acto. Its surgically sharp so you barely feel anything. Wipe the blade with alcohol before using. And you don't need a whole x-acto knife... just the blade itself is all you need. I've seen them sold at 99 cent stores..
This is the same thing they're doing (digging it out) but they're using a slightly different kind of blade...
[video=youtube;ubVZZrwCJNE]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ubVZZrwCJNE[/video]
This is the same thing they're doing (digging it out) but they're using a slightly different kind of blade...
[video=youtube;ubVZZrwCJNE]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ubVZZrwCJNE[/video]
M
Whenever I have a splinter that's too small to see or too small to pull out, I grab an x-acto knife with a very sharp blade and use it to gently dig it out by plucking at the skin above the splinter with the tip of the x-acto. Its surgically sharp so you barely feel anything. Wipe the blade with alcohol before using. And you don't need a whole x-acto knife... just the blade itself is all you need. I've seen them sold at 99 cent stores..
This is the same thing they're doing (digging it out) but they're using a slightly different kind of blade...
[video=youtube;ubVZZrwCJNE]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ubVZZrwCJNE[/video]
This is the same thing they're doing (digging it out) but they're using a slightly different kind of blade...
[video=youtube;ubVZZrwCJNE]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ubVZZrwCJNE[/video]
Whenever I have a splinter that's too small to see or too small to pull out, I grab an x-acto knife with a very sharp blade and use it to gently dig it out by plucking at the skin above the splinter with the tip of the x-acto. Its surgically sharp so you barely feel anything. Wipe the blade with alcohol before using. And you don't need a whole x-acto knife... just the blade itself is all you need. I've seen them sold at 99 cent stores..
This is the same thing they're doing (digging it out) but they're using a slightly different kind of blade...
This is the same thing they're doing (digging it out) but they're using a slightly different kind of blade...
Do you want her clutziness to come up missing fingers??
M
Taking an unplanned trip down memory lane is the worst. I was sitting here minding my own business, playing some completely pointless game, and my brain decided to open up The Drawer. The one in the very back corner of my mind, behind the pile of long abandoned hobbies; ice skates, a piano, a stack of journals. I had no idea what was about to happen- so imagine my surprise when I was bombarded with a sudden playback of Things I Forgot On Purpose.
You can bet I scrambled to slam that sucker shut tight again.
...that’s not really how this works, though, so I might as well settle in and wait for it to run its course.
Nights like this make me miss my friend. I know there’s a good reason I stopped talking to her, but she was also great at listening and making me laugh. I could call her at 2 a.m. and tell her I’m going crazy, and she’d say, “Cristen...you’ve been there for a while. Now what’s wrong?” She would have driven two hours in the middle of the night to get to me if I’d asked her to. We would have sat on my kitchen floor drinking wine and pretending we were sophisticated while she listened to all the reasons I feel terrible, and then she would have reminded me of the time we baked cookies at 4 in the morning and my mom woke up to find us drinking coffee and throwing cheese across the kitchen while the cookies burned.
And she would have reminded me of the night we took a roll of toilet paper into my back yard, soaked it in cheap perfume, lit it on fire, and threw it over the fence. Or how we used to go to her house after school and drink chocolate milk while listening to the same song for an hour. Or the time we tried to go sledding on garbage bags but ended up just army crawling through four feet of snow to an old barn where we hid in the loft and told ghost stories.
Nights like this are lonely in a house full of sleeping people.
Not to change the subject, but totally just to change the subject...I kind of hate that I always find myself back in this thread during my low moments. I forget about it by the time I finally fall asleep, but in the morning I’ve always got this sense of dread...”Oh boy, what’d I say now?”
On a completely unrelated note, Mint Magic tea is wonderful.
You can bet I scrambled to slam that sucker shut tight again.
...that’s not really how this works, though, so I might as well settle in and wait for it to run its course.
Nights like this make me miss my friend. I know there’s a good reason I stopped talking to her, but she was also great at listening and making me laugh. I could call her at 2 a.m. and tell her I’m going crazy, and she’d say, “Cristen...you’ve been there for a while. Now what’s wrong?” She would have driven two hours in the middle of the night to get to me if I’d asked her to. We would have sat on my kitchen floor drinking wine and pretending we were sophisticated while she listened to all the reasons I feel terrible, and then she would have reminded me of the time we baked cookies at 4 in the morning and my mom woke up to find us drinking coffee and throwing cheese across the kitchen while the cookies burned.
And she would have reminded me of the night we took a roll of toilet paper into my back yard, soaked it in cheap perfume, lit it on fire, and threw it over the fence. Or how we used to go to her house after school and drink chocolate milk while listening to the same song for an hour. Or the time we tried to go sledding on garbage bags but ended up just army crawling through four feet of snow to an old barn where we hid in the loft and told ghost stories.
Nights like this are lonely in a house full of sleeping people.
Not to change the subject, but totally just to change the subject...I kind of hate that I always find myself back in this thread during my low moments. I forget about it by the time I finally fall asleep, but in the morning I’ve always got this sense of dread...”Oh boy, what’d I say now?”
On a completely unrelated note, Mint Magic tea is wonderful.