"...I'm just waiting for someone who believes in aliens to invite me to an intergalactic journey of spiritual discovery..."
Me, after recounting the litany of very interesting characters who I have met while waiting in line to register or renew my visas. I've already been asked out, invited to participate in smoke lodges and visit communes during the last few times I've gone there...
Thursday, August 30, 2007
A Typical Day
People always want to know what a typical day for me in Brazil looks like. Last Monday was a perfect example. I had planned to take the morning and register at the Federal Police, something I needed to do before my 30 initial days in the country were up. In the evening, I would go to my first class at the business college. It was a simple plan. A good one. And that was my downfall...God likes my life full of surprises...
7:30 am, staggering out of bed I head straight for the bathroom that is a shower and toilet stall all-in-one and take a long, super hot shower! I love electric shower heads...
8:00 am I wash dishes before touching up my nail polish (for looking nice at class in the evening) while doing my daily devotions.
9:30 am Ben arrives for a staff meeting and we talk and settle important, earthshaking matters before lunch.
11:00 am I'm making lunch that I'm not going to get to eat until 11:00 pm (thankfully I have eaten a melted cheese, banana, and cinnamon sugar sandwich as a mid-morning snack...)
12:30 pm, I wait at the bus stop as the 621 passes by four times, the 313 three times, the 680 and the Caxias bus each twice, and my bus, the 312 going downtown to the Federal Police, passes once, at 12:49 pm. This should have been a sign.
1:34 pm, arriving downtown to an empty building, I call Ben from the Federal Police to let him know that they have moved operations to the international airport. Thanks for the warning, non-informative agent who "assisted" me last week when you told me to come back today. Surely you knew they were moving?
1:40 pm, on the wrong side of the road, I see the very necessary expensive air-conditioned bus that goes to the airport barreling by. The driver notices the pained look on my face and graciously stops to wait as I cross the busy street and run a few hundred feet up to where he's stopped.
2:15 pm, I arrive at the airport and begin my waiting in line.
2:15-6:15 pm:
-make copies of pertinent pages of passport
-make more copies when the copy place runs out of ink and screws up the copies but still charges R$1 per sheet
-sit in the huge line next to a girl who turns out to be a member of a cult and spend hours talking with her
-answer her questions: "What's your relationship with God like?" as the rest of the equally bored people around us eavesdrop on our conversation
-make friends with an Argentinian, Bolivian, and a cute Columbian couple
-tease the Federal Police agents
-pretend I'm not hungry (I don't want to lose my place in line)
-find out that I'm missing a document and will have to return tomorrow or pay a fine of R$300
6:45 pm, the other South Americans and I get on a bus heading downtown. I am sure I'm going to miss my class, as this is the height of rush hour. On a Monday. Surprisingly, I am not anxious.
7:23 pm the bus enters Rio Branco, and eight or nine minutes later, I'm entering the building for class: right on time. All I missed were the appetizers. This is impossible. God did something with the traffic. Whoohoo!
7:30-9:30 I sit next to two fun MBA students who giggle with me the entire time as we make bets on who will be the next person to stand up and leave the lecture. The speaker, a super intelligent, super academic economist, is giving an eyelid-dropping boring speech about a scattered collection of Brazilian economic policies from the 1920's onward. I exchange business cards with the MBA ladies, who laugh at me as I attempt to explain the absurdity of my occupation(s):
A B.A. in vocal music who is currently a missionary who works with street kids who is studying business administration and marketing. Go figure.
And then of course, I go home, where my friend who is staying with me this week has dinner waiting for me...the first sustenance I've had since 10:45 that morning...
And that's a typical day. Nothing goes as planned, everything goes well. Beijos to all, as today has been just as "typical" and I'm ready to crash into my bed...
Boa noite!
7:30 am, staggering out of bed I head straight for the bathroom that is a shower and toilet stall all-in-one and take a long, super hot shower! I love electric shower heads...
8:00 am I wash dishes before touching up my nail polish (for looking nice at class in the evening) while doing my daily devotions.
9:30 am Ben arrives for a staff meeting and we talk and settle important, earthshaking matters before lunch.
11:00 am I'm making lunch that I'm not going to get to eat until 11:00 pm (thankfully I have eaten a melted cheese, banana, and cinnamon sugar sandwich as a mid-morning snack...)
12:30 pm, I wait at the bus stop as the 621 passes by four times, the 313 three times, the 680 and the Caxias bus each twice, and my bus, the 312 going downtown to the Federal Police, passes once, at 12:49 pm. This should have been a sign.
1:34 pm, arriving downtown to an empty building, I call Ben from the Federal Police to let him know that they have moved operations to the international airport. Thanks for the warning, non-informative agent who "assisted" me last week when you told me to come back today. Surely you knew they were moving?
1:40 pm, on the wrong side of the road, I see the very necessary expensive air-conditioned bus that goes to the airport barreling by. The driver notices the pained look on my face and graciously stops to wait as I cross the busy street and run a few hundred feet up to where he's stopped.
2:15 pm, I arrive at the airport and begin my waiting in line.
2:15-6:15 pm:
-make copies of pertinent pages of passport
-make more copies when the copy place runs out of ink and screws up the copies but still charges R$1 per sheet
-sit in the huge line next to a girl who turns out to be a member of a cult and spend hours talking with her
-answer her questions: "What's your relationship with God like?" as the rest of the equally bored people around us eavesdrop on our conversation
-make friends with an Argentinian, Bolivian, and a cute Columbian couple
-tease the Federal Police agents
-pretend I'm not hungry (I don't want to lose my place in line)
-find out that I'm missing a document and will have to return tomorrow or pay a fine of R$300
6:45 pm, the other South Americans and I get on a bus heading downtown. I am sure I'm going to miss my class, as this is the height of rush hour. On a Monday. Surprisingly, I am not anxious.
7:23 pm the bus enters Rio Branco, and eight or nine minutes later, I'm entering the building for class: right on time. All I missed were the appetizers. This is impossible. God did something with the traffic. Whoohoo!
7:30-9:30 I sit next to two fun MBA students who giggle with me the entire time as we make bets on who will be the next person to stand up and leave the lecture. The speaker, a super intelligent, super academic economist, is giving an eyelid-dropping boring speech about a scattered collection of Brazilian economic policies from the 1920's onward. I exchange business cards with the MBA ladies, who laugh at me as I attempt to explain the absurdity of my occupation(s):
A B.A. in vocal music who is currently a missionary who works with street kids who is studying business administration and marketing. Go figure.
And then of course, I go home, where my friend who is staying with me this week has dinner waiting for me...the first sustenance I've had since 10:45 that morning...
And that's a typical day. Nothing goes as planned, everything goes well. Beijos to all, as today has been just as "typical" and I'm ready to crash into my bed...
Boa noite!
Monday, August 20, 2007
Because I haven't posted yet and need to
I seem to avoid blogging when things are crazy. So much happens so fast that I can’t sit down and write about it in the moment. Too much in my head, too much to process, too little time…
The good crazy is that I am living in the pink house, with wooden floors and tile and a cute porch and yes, sun ALL day long. This won’t be cool in the summer, but at least I won’t have to go to the beach to get a tan! The kitchen’s too small and the bathroom has hot water and there’s space for a hammock as soon as I get around to buying one. I like this house. The ceilings are super tall and the windows expansive; the ceiling fan makes things noisy and cool, and I am fully planning on putting art on the walls. One day.
The massive moving spree happened on Wednesday, a process that involved several good friends and only a few bruises and NO broken china. The cleaning day in the old house on Thursday didn’t go quite so smoothly; I nearly broke a finger and sustained rope burns on three fingers on my right hand. Note to self: gloves are necessary when throwing couches over the side of the porch. I am thankful I gave away some of my furniture. There’s no room for it in these rooms, and I infinitely prefer having books to having an extra sofa!
Ben arrived back on Friday, the Servant Team showed up on Sunday. This being my last week to do so, I tried to register at the Federal Police today, but according to plan (it’s happened almost every time to me!), they’re on strike. So I wasted my time and money heading all the way downtown, but at least I got a nice private bus ride and a chance to put on makeup. There’s been precious little time for that these past weeks!
And that’s the quick update.
My honest update would say that I am feeling overwhelmed and over committed and like I want to crawl into a cave and eat chocolate until the wee hours…I would apologize for not taking pictures of my house or writing during this last week to let your know your prayers were answered with a resounding “ yes!” But I’ve been too busy. And the last thing that I want to do is sit in front of a computer. For one thing, this computer is brand-new and this happens to be some kind of bug season; I had one actually crawl into my keyboard and wiggle back and forth as if he was in some kind of maze…I finally managed to grab his wings and squish him. So I am kind of avoiding playing with the computer at night. For another, I’m just tired. There’s so much going on and so few people to handle the responsibilities, and so when I am not running around, I feel like I should just be sitting still, listening to God.
So that’s what I’m going to do right now. I’m going to publish this blog post and then stop “do-ing” for a little bit. Put on comfy pants and meditate, sing some Psalms, try to focus on the present and let tomorrow worry about itself.
The good crazy is that I am living in the pink house, with wooden floors and tile and a cute porch and yes, sun ALL day long. This won’t be cool in the summer, but at least I won’t have to go to the beach to get a tan! The kitchen’s too small and the bathroom has hot water and there’s space for a hammock as soon as I get around to buying one. I like this house. The ceilings are super tall and the windows expansive; the ceiling fan makes things noisy and cool, and I am fully planning on putting art on the walls. One day.
The massive moving spree happened on Wednesday, a process that involved several good friends and only a few bruises and NO broken china. The cleaning day in the old house on Thursday didn’t go quite so smoothly; I nearly broke a finger and sustained rope burns on three fingers on my right hand. Note to self: gloves are necessary when throwing couches over the side of the porch. I am thankful I gave away some of my furniture. There’s no room for it in these rooms, and I infinitely prefer having books to having an extra sofa!
Ben arrived back on Friday, the Servant Team showed up on Sunday. This being my last week to do so, I tried to register at the Federal Police today, but according to plan (it’s happened almost every time to me!), they’re on strike. So I wasted my time and money heading all the way downtown, but at least I got a nice private bus ride and a chance to put on makeup. There’s been precious little time for that these past weeks!
And that’s the quick update.
My honest update would say that I am feeling overwhelmed and over committed and like I want to crawl into a cave and eat chocolate until the wee hours…I would apologize for not taking pictures of my house or writing during this last week to let your know your prayers were answered with a resounding “ yes!” But I’ve been too busy. And the last thing that I want to do is sit in front of a computer. For one thing, this computer is brand-new and this happens to be some kind of bug season; I had one actually crawl into my keyboard and wiggle back and forth as if he was in some kind of maze…I finally managed to grab his wings and squish him. So I am kind of avoiding playing with the computer at night. For another, I’m just tired. There’s so much going on and so few people to handle the responsibilities, and so when I am not running around, I feel like I should just be sitting still, listening to God.
So that’s what I’m going to do right now. I’m going to publish this blog post and then stop “do-ing” for a little bit. Put on comfy pants and meditate, sing some Psalms, try to focus on the present and let tomorrow worry about itself.
Thursday, August 09, 2007
Addendum, 10:34 pm (also known as: how do you like run on sentences?)
My friend from church who is neighbor to the pink house I'm still dreaming about being mine ran into the owner's wife yesterday in the street...they had a nice talk about me and she must have gone home and given her husband a bit of wifely pressure. He's invited my friend over to chat tomorrow, and will hopefully liberate the deposit as an option. In which case, I wouldn't be homeless and would be running down to the office to plop down my three month's rent deposit before lunchtime.
Pray!
Pray!
I once wanted to have only enough material possessions to put in the trunk of a car.
What happened to that ideal? I think my big feet had something to do with it. It's so much easier for smaller, petiter people. Their stuff takes up less SPACE!
So, to deal with the space issue, I gave away both my sofas today. That means I’m much less encumbered than I was yesterday.
I might give my big heavy antique-y chest of drawers/bookshelf to my grandmother upstairs. That would cut my furniture ownership in half. I found someone, bless their heart, who will let me keep my things in their empty upstairs apartment, provided that I can find some strong men willing to carry my refrigerator, stove,
disassembled closet and bookshelves, plus 4 boxes of books, up the steep, steep stairs.
Which would free me to move my bed, a small chest, two stuffed chairs, my kitchen table and standing cabinet, and all my bags and suitcases to a friend’s house out past Tijuca. I can stay with them…until I find something suitable to rent. Or who knows? Maybe I’ll buy.
I had a nice chat with the cute couple from the corner store today. They’ve been furnishing me with boxes and chatting about how much they love me even though they hardly know me and how they think I’m just swell and how they never thought my ex-boyfriends would amount to much…so very sorry, exes, if you’re reading this. Not amount to much FOR me, okay?! They're also calling family members in search of an apartment...and confirmed what I've been hearing all around town.
The real reason I’m having to move seems to have more to do with the rumors finally coming true: the Brazilian government is going to raze a good portion of Manguinhos and reconstruct. This is mostly good news for the community. But what’s happening is actually a bit confusing. The only people to get homes will be the people that are currently living in the homes to be razed at the time of the reconstruction. That includes renters.
That’s right.
Renters will be given a new home, and not the homeowner. Which kind of makes sense, as it would cause a huge housing problem the other way around…and really, some of these homes are such slums that landlords should have to pay the government to help knock them down. Since it is still technically a squatter community, while the homes and bricks and whatnot may be owned, the land isn’t. So unless your entire income comes from rents, the official position seems to be: You're renting your second home. Which means you have a place to live. Your renters don’t. If we kick them out, we just increase the favela problems because they're never going to be able to afford rents outside the slums. Your home doesn’t technically belong to you, so too bad.
This is bad news for renters whose landowners went to that community meeting, because they’re getting kicked out, asap.
Like me. Whoo hoo.
So, to deal with the space issue, I gave away both my sofas today. That means I’m much less encumbered than I was yesterday.
I might give my big heavy antique-y chest of drawers/bookshelf to my grandmother upstairs. That would cut my furniture ownership in half. I found someone, bless their heart, who will let me keep my things in their empty upstairs apartment, provided that I can find some strong men willing to carry my refrigerator, stove,
disassembled closet and bookshelves, plus 4 boxes of books, up the steep, steep stairs.
Which would free me to move my bed, a small chest, two stuffed chairs, my kitchen table and standing cabinet, and all my bags and suitcases to a friend’s house out past Tijuca. I can stay with them…until I find something suitable to rent. Or who knows? Maybe I’ll buy.
I had a nice chat with the cute couple from the corner store today. They’ve been furnishing me with boxes and chatting about how much they love me even though they hardly know me and how they think I’m just swell and how they never thought my ex-boyfriends would amount to much…so very sorry, exes, if you’re reading this. Not amount to much FOR me, okay?! They're also calling family members in search of an apartment...and confirmed what I've been hearing all around town.
The real reason I’m having to move seems to have more to do with the rumors finally coming true: the Brazilian government is going to raze a good portion of Manguinhos and reconstruct. This is mostly good news for the community. But what’s happening is actually a bit confusing. The only people to get homes will be the people that are currently living in the homes to be razed at the time of the reconstruction. That includes renters.
That’s right.
Renters will be given a new home, and not the homeowner. Which kind of makes sense, as it would cause a huge housing problem the other way around…and really, some of these homes are such slums that landlords should have to pay the government to help knock them down. Since it is still technically a squatter community, while the homes and bricks and whatnot may be owned, the land isn’t. So unless your entire income comes from rents, the official position seems to be: You're renting your second home. Which means you have a place to live. Your renters don’t. If we kick them out, we just increase the favela problems because they're never going to be able to afford rents outside the slums. Your home doesn’t technically belong to you, so too bad.
This is bad news for renters whose landowners went to that community meeting, because they’re getting kicked out, asap.
Like me. Whoo hoo.
Wednesday, August 08, 2007
I actually cried today.
I am so stressed that I broke down in tears on more than one occasion today. I'm really a wimp. I mean, come on, who can't handle this?
I'm only:
sick, not having any time to absorb the culture shock, searching fruitlessly for homes that don't exist and co-signers that seem to be more fiction than fact, while having landlords that imply their deaths are imminent due to my current living situation...plus there's work (and I won't even GO there tonight!)...and the pot smoke wafting into my window and the fourteen different funk beats rivaling each other for the airwaves outside my house...
I AM leaving this hideous place that is full of cockroaches (I killed two more today in the silverware drawer--I've been thankfully washing everything before I use it--but they were totally having SEX behind the knives! They got what was coming to them.) This house where sewage backs up into my toilet. Where the power sometimes just goes off for no apparent reason.
I AM leaving. I don't know where I'm going, but I'm ready. Boxed. Bagged. House trashed. All God has to do is drop an apartment on me, Wizard-of-Oz style. I'll even put on the fancy red shoes...
Tonight, I'm going to watch Pride and Prejudice and eat garlic pizza, drink real Coke, and cry on someone's shoulder.
And then I'll be able to appreciate the good side of this story, which is that I have a huge support network, even if most of them are in debt and don't own property in Brazil. The man from the corner store sends boxes via my neighbor so I can get started on my moving packing. He's saving a huge stash of them for me. A total stranger from the internet offers her assistance in "calling everyone we know and who might have relatives" in an attempt to help me find a house and/or a cosigner. A friend's fiance offers his assistance. Other people have drug me around the city in their cars to look at apartments, walked dozens of city blocks with me, held my hand, let me complain and "desabafar," and I have yet to make a real meal in my home. Almost every day since I arrived, someone has fed me, or taken me out to eat, or split a pizza with me...which is an incredible blessing. And my friends are even going to the landlord of the house I want to see if that Bible verse is true, the one about the poor widow. You know, the lady who bothered the judge so much that he finally gave her what she wanted because otherwise he'd never get a moment's peace?! I want to be that woman!!! And I'm afraid, in Brazil, that's the only way to get anything done!
Appreciating your prayers,
Frazzled Jenna
I'm only:
sick, not having any time to absorb the culture shock, searching fruitlessly for homes that don't exist and co-signers that seem to be more fiction than fact, while having landlords that imply their deaths are imminent due to my current living situation...plus there's work (and I won't even GO there tonight!)...and the pot smoke wafting into my window and the fourteen different funk beats rivaling each other for the airwaves outside my house...
I AM leaving this hideous place that is full of cockroaches (I killed two more today in the silverware drawer--I've been thankfully washing everything before I use it--but they were totally having SEX behind the knives! They got what was coming to them.) This house where sewage backs up into my toilet. Where the power sometimes just goes off for no apparent reason.
I AM leaving. I don't know where I'm going, but I'm ready. Boxed. Bagged. House trashed. All God has to do is drop an apartment on me, Wizard-of-Oz style. I'll even put on the fancy red shoes...
Tonight, I'm going to watch Pride and Prejudice and eat garlic pizza, drink real Coke, and cry on someone's shoulder.
And then I'll be able to appreciate the good side of this story, which is that I have a huge support network, even if most of them are in debt and don't own property in Brazil. The man from the corner store sends boxes via my neighbor so I can get started on my moving packing. He's saving a huge stash of them for me. A total stranger from the internet offers her assistance in "calling everyone we know and who might have relatives" in an attempt to help me find a house and/or a cosigner. A friend's fiance offers his assistance. Other people have drug me around the city in their cars to look at apartments, walked dozens of city blocks with me, held my hand, let me complain and "desabafar," and I have yet to make a real meal in my home. Almost every day since I arrived, someone has fed me, or taken me out to eat, or split a pizza with me...which is an incredible blessing. And my friends are even going to the landlord of the house I want to see if that Bible verse is true, the one about the poor widow. You know, the lady who bothered the judge so much that he finally gave her what she wanted because otherwise he'd never get a moment's peace?! I want to be that woman!!! And I'm afraid, in Brazil, that's the only way to get anything done!
Appreciating your prayers,
Frazzled Jenna
Amoxocilina...
Yes. Overseas flights, business class or not, do not seem to agree with me. I am happily taking American-missionary-prescribed antibiotics in an attempt to make my throat-of-fire and smoker's cough turn into nothing more than a cold...and not the pneumonia that I've suffered on my other returns to Brazil.
I'm hunting frantically for an apartment before I get kicked out of this one. Does anyone know of a good Brazilian co-signer? Because I need one!
In other news...the weather can't decide whether to be hot or cold, so I live with a scarf around my neck and a tank top on...
I'm hunting frantically for an apartment before I get kicked out of this one. Does anyone know of a good Brazilian co-signer? Because I need one!
In other news...the weather can't decide whether to be hot or cold, so I live with a scarf around my neck and a tank top on...
Friday, August 03, 2007
Meme Tag: From Ali
The rules:
1. We have to post these rules before we give you the facts. 2. Players start with eight random facts/habits about themselves. 3. People who are tagged write their own blog post about their eight things and include these rules. 4. At the end of your blog, you need to choose eight people to get tagged and list their names. Don’t forget to leave them a comment telling them they’re tagged and that they should read your blog.
Random Fact Number One
I obsess over grammatical mistakes. It used to be just English, but I've recently found myself doing it in Portuguese too. Things like the "If your looking, so is everybody else" billboard that disgraced my hometown for years...
Random Fact Number Two
I have no problem cleaning bathrooms for other people. I hate cleaning my own.
Random Fact Number Three
Big decisions come easily to me. What I have difficulty with is the small decisions. I can spend hours trying to decide which moisturizer to buy, and spend thirty minutes deciding on a life-changing decision like moving overseas!
Random Fact Number Four
Shoes are my weakness. Heels, especially, and in wild colors and fun patterns. But because I have such big feet and grew up in a conservative family, I hardly ever branch out from basic black. I must have four pairs of black heels. But I'm learning...I recently tried to make peace with my feet: polka-dot flats. Black and white, of course!
Random Fact Number Five
On the subject of fashion, I'm a sucker for magazines. Trashy ones or Vogue, it doesn't matter. I buy them mostly for the ads and the photos of actresses in their floor-length dresses. I have a whole file full of designs or colors or patterns that I love. I would never pay five thousand dollars for a dress, but it doesn't hurt to dream...if I had my way, the world would run in such a way that formal dresses would be as common as jeans!
Random Fact Number Six
I get a certain perverse pleasure out of shocking people, and I love it when someone does at double-take when they know I'm a missionary, or that I live in a favela, or that I don't adhere to a particular denomination, or that I plan on getting a tattoo for my 30th birthday (Sorry, dear grandparents, if that comes as a surprise!). It's all part of my rebellious streak, the innate desire to shatter people's expectations and open them up to new ideas about God and people and this planet. Plus, it's just fun to see the looks on their faces...
Random Fact Number Seven
I cannot leave my bags packed for more than an hour after arriving at my destination. Exhausted...doesn't matter. They MUST be unpacked before I can relax!
Random Fact Number Eight
I hardly ever shampoo my hair. My sisters and I all have curly or wavy hair, and we've found that our curls lose that frizzy wildness when all we use is conditioner. So I usually buy two or three bottles of conditioner at a time...and keep a travel-sized bottle of shampoo in my shower...
As for the tagging of people...I tag: Ellen, Ben, and Renee...I would tag more, but most of my blog friends have left the blog-world!!!
1. We have to post these rules before we give you the facts. 2. Players start with eight random facts/habits about themselves. 3. People who are tagged write their own blog post about their eight things and include these rules. 4. At the end of your blog, you need to choose eight people to get tagged and list their names. Don’t forget to leave them a comment telling them they’re tagged and that they should read your blog.
Random Fact Number One
I obsess over grammatical mistakes. It used to be just English, but I've recently found myself doing it in Portuguese too. Things like the "If your looking, so is everybody else" billboard that disgraced my hometown for years...
Random Fact Number Two
I have no problem cleaning bathrooms for other people. I hate cleaning my own.
Random Fact Number Three
Big decisions come easily to me. What I have difficulty with is the small decisions. I can spend hours trying to decide which moisturizer to buy, and spend thirty minutes deciding on a life-changing decision like moving overseas!
Random Fact Number Four
Shoes are my weakness. Heels, especially, and in wild colors and fun patterns. But because I have such big feet and grew up in a conservative family, I hardly ever branch out from basic black. I must have four pairs of black heels. But I'm learning...I recently tried to make peace with my feet: polka-dot flats. Black and white, of course!
Random Fact Number Five
On the subject of fashion, I'm a sucker for magazines. Trashy ones or Vogue, it doesn't matter. I buy them mostly for the ads and the photos of actresses in their floor-length dresses. I have a whole file full of designs or colors or patterns that I love. I would never pay five thousand dollars for a dress, but it doesn't hurt to dream...if I had my way, the world would run in such a way that formal dresses would be as common as jeans!
Random Fact Number Six
I get a certain perverse pleasure out of shocking people, and I love it when someone does at double-take when they know I'm a missionary, or that I live in a favela, or that I don't adhere to a particular denomination, or that I plan on getting a tattoo for my 30th birthday (Sorry, dear grandparents, if that comes as a surprise!). It's all part of my rebellious streak, the innate desire to shatter people's expectations and open them up to new ideas about God and people and this planet. Plus, it's just fun to see the looks on their faces...
Random Fact Number Seven
I cannot leave my bags packed for more than an hour after arriving at my destination. Exhausted...doesn't matter. They MUST be unpacked before I can relax!
Random Fact Number Eight
I hardly ever shampoo my hair. My sisters and I all have curly or wavy hair, and we've found that our curls lose that frizzy wildness when all we use is conditioner. So I usually buy two or three bottles of conditioner at a time...and keep a travel-sized bottle of shampoo in my shower...
As for the tagging of people...I tag: Ellen, Ben, and Renee...I would tag more, but most of my blog friends have left the blog-world!!!
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