Another day, another problem. I am trying to be optimistic about going on another adventure, but the events of the last one weigh heavily on me. I just discovered today that my oil needs to be changed, and my car needs to be inspected. AHH! I have to delay leaving another day. I keep wondering if this is a sign from God to stay home. But no, it can't be. I have been home for a month now, and no jobs have returned my inquiries. I am supposed to go south and stay with friends and get to know the girls there better. I know it. I just need a little faith. Just faith the size of a mustard seed, and I will make it. What does that mean, anyway, faith the size of a mustard seed? How can faith be measured to the equivalent of a seed? It says that faith is measured by works, so I suppose it can be measured, just not by seeds. That is just a figure of speech.
Tomorrow, I have to do all my packing, go the laundromat, vacuum my car, and take it to the car place to have it looked at. I am praying that it will pass inspection.
I am thoroughly distracted right now, but maybe I will write more later.
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Monday, September 28, 2009
Detained
One month ago today, I was detained. It was the worst experience of my life. While I was laying on that awfully dirty bed, shaking from vehement crying, I decided to be a lawyer and speak up for those who can't speak up for themselves. I have long since redacted that decision, but I am still burned up that I was imprisoned for doing nothing.
Everyone in prison always says they are innocent, of course, so it is hard to be believed. I was detained for not having a visa. England thought I was going to try to remain illegally in her country and she didn´t want me to stay. So instead of allowing me to stay the night in the airport, on which I insisted, she detained me. Like a cow or something. I was one of to females in the facility, the only America, the only, white person, and by a longshot, the only blonde. It was a most horrific experience, of which I fear many of the employees at the center were embarrassed and ashamed. To detain a Nigerian man who was penniliess and jobless is one thing, but to detain and young American girls visiting church friends is a whole universe of difference.
I will not go through the step-by-step process of the entire happening, but I will relate some thoughts. First of all, I was laying in that yucky bed wondering what the hell I was going to with myself when I retuned home. (And I don't sware, so using "hell" indicates that I was really wondering.) Going back to college was out of the question because the semester had already begun. Sure, I could get a job, but where, and who would hire me? Should I travel somewhere else for work, visit a different friend. All that was going through my head when suddenly popped in, "Well, at least you'll be there when Magnus visits." I laughed myself as hard as possible in that situation. I had never given him a second thought before, and still I haven't. Magnus? I just wonder sometimes where thoughts come from, like Magnus? I have had it a few times before when it is almost like someone whispers something into my ear, like a particular thought doesn't even come from my head. This was one of those times. Ironically of course, if he does come, I probably won't be here because I am leaving again.
Then of course, I thought about that verse in John that says "for this purpose you came to this hour." I was praying so hard that I wouldn't just wish myself out of the situation, because that was of course my tendency. All I wanted to do was get on that plane and go home. But I knew I had to get through the situation. I could get by by the skin on my teeth, but isn't is more valuable to gain something from life's situation? That is what I was thinking of, and even though I was anxious every moment I was there, I think I was able to be more restful in God.
Everyone in prison always says they are innocent, of course, so it is hard to be believed. I was detained for not having a visa. England thought I was going to try to remain illegally in her country and she didn´t want me to stay. So instead of allowing me to stay the night in the airport, on which I insisted, she detained me. Like a cow or something. I was one of to females in the facility, the only America, the only, white person, and by a longshot, the only blonde. It was a most horrific experience, of which I fear many of the employees at the center were embarrassed and ashamed. To detain a Nigerian man who was penniliess and jobless is one thing, but to detain and young American girls visiting church friends is a whole universe of difference.
I will not go through the step-by-step process of the entire happening, but I will relate some thoughts. First of all, I was laying in that yucky bed wondering what the hell I was going to with myself when I retuned home. (And I don't sware, so using "hell" indicates that I was really wondering.) Going back to college was out of the question because the semester had already begun. Sure, I could get a job, but where, and who would hire me? Should I travel somewhere else for work, visit a different friend. All that was going through my head when suddenly popped in, "Well, at least you'll be there when Magnus visits." I laughed myself as hard as possible in that situation. I had never given him a second thought before, and still I haven't. Magnus? I just wonder sometimes where thoughts come from, like Magnus? I have had it a few times before when it is almost like someone whispers something into my ear, like a particular thought doesn't even come from my head. This was one of those times. Ironically of course, if he does come, I probably won't be here because I am leaving again.
Then of course, I thought about that verse in John that says "for this purpose you came to this hour." I was praying so hard that I wouldn't just wish myself out of the situation, because that was of course my tendency. All I wanted to do was get on that plane and go home. But I knew I had to get through the situation. I could get by by the skin on my teeth, but isn't is more valuable to gain something from life's situation? That is what I was thinking of, and even though I was anxious every moment I was there, I think I was able to be more restful in God.
Fire
Here I am beginning with the mundane events of today, just as I said I would. Today drew itself out normally, although I did sleep in far too late for my liking, but other than that. I went shopping with my mother and two younger sisters and we returned just in time for me to run. The days are rapidly getting shorter and the window of opportunity to run is decreasing with it. Upon completing my run, I ate dinner and then was settling down, catching up with e-mails, etc, when a billow of black smoke emerged from the laundry room. My mother who immediatley set in "panic mode" which in turn made the rest of the house pandemonium, started screaming for everyone to leave. Little Monsieur was running in circles hysterically and my father was searching to no avail for a fire extinguisher. I grabbed Miss Claire along with a blanket from her peaceful slumbers and was one of the last to leave the house because at first, I thought this was another overreaction of my mother.
If I had had to stand and watch the house burn, I would have watched with tears running down my face. But I didn't watch because the house didn't burn. I have no idea how long my father was in that room with an extinguisher trying to put out the fire, but he stayed until he was quite sure it was out. I am certain he isn't sleeping tonight.
All the local departments responded and remained here until in was safe. Everyone is totally unharmed and the only problem is that we can't use our washer and dryer, oh, and the ever-present scent of burned clothes.
It was strange when my mother first started telling us to leave. I was thinking of how to stop the fire, and I was picturing myself grabbing the hose and hauling it up the stairs and turning on the kitchen sink. What good would turning on the sink do?
Now that that is over...
I am leaving for a "nanny" job on Wednesday. I am going a bit south, but not far enough to hope on good weather. I should be gone until the middle of November, depending on how things go. I am a bit nervous about driving so far in old goldie, but not enough to deter me from going. I have started my list tonight. I am doing all my packing tomorrow. I have so much to do: clean my room, wash all my clothes, pack, go to the laundromat. But what can I say, a women's work is never done.
If I had had to stand and watch the house burn, I would have watched with tears running down my face. But I didn't watch because the house didn't burn. I have no idea how long my father was in that room with an extinguisher trying to put out the fire, but he stayed until he was quite sure it was out. I am certain he isn't sleeping tonight.
All the local departments responded and remained here until in was safe. Everyone is totally unharmed and the only problem is that we can't use our washer and dryer, oh, and the ever-present scent of burned clothes.
It was strange when my mother first started telling us to leave. I was thinking of how to stop the fire, and I was picturing myself grabbing the hose and hauling it up the stairs and turning on the kitchen sink. What good would turning on the sink do?
Now that that is over...
I am leaving for a "nanny" job on Wednesday. I am going a bit south, but not far enough to hope on good weather. I should be gone until the middle of November, depending on how things go. I am a bit nervous about driving so far in old goldie, but not enough to deter me from going. I have started my list tonight. I am doing all my packing tomorrow. I have so much to do: clean my room, wash all my clothes, pack, go to the laundromat. But what can I say, a women's work is never done.
Sunday, September 27, 2009
Beginning
I must confess, I will probably write more than "just my thoughts" here. I will probably record my interests, opinions, hobbies, etc. And with that I will conclude with the boring recollection of the previous day. That does not bother me in the least. I am starting this so I can write. When I am at home and busy with school or work (ha! I have never held a real job before) then I don't feel the need to write, but when I am away, I need somewhere to "spill 'em." I require a place to record thoughts, feelings, and whatever else comes my way. I don't want that everyone I know can read, which is why I prefer a blog. The notebook under my pillow is getting too obvious and I would die should one of my siblings read it. So here I am blogging away in cyberspace...
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