Monday, August 09, 2010

Tilt. Compress. Pump. Release.

Wow, it's been awhile since I've blogged. This is gonna be stream of consciousness because that seems all my pion brain can muster up at the moment. Since being in the states, I've felt rather disoriented and uncomfortable. Like when you sit down on a public restroom toilet and it's warm. Uncomfortably warm. And it has nothing to do with all the wonderful people we've gotten to see since we've been here. They have been, as one of my favorite sandwich places says, "a shady island in a sea of rice." People have been the highlight for sure.

And this whole driving thing. I find myself driving like a grandma on bunko night. Slow. Abnormally slow for someone not yet pulling social security. And I also find myself saying "these people are driving like maniacs! Who do they think they are zipping around here?!" All I need is to make tapioca pudding and head to Branson, Missouri and then maybe I'll feel at home.

And then, I get to the gas station. Sometime post 2007, a new law was passed that changed the way gas pumps work. The label on the nozzle reads "Tilt. Compress. Pump. Release." Ok, did that. Gas comes sputtering out to where my kids can practicing their counting on the pump because the numbers are going one by one...slowly. And then it stops completely. So, I tilt, compress, pump and waited on the release part till I was done...again. This happens no less then 20 times while I fill up half a tank. All I'm saying is that I have had four other experiences where I was told to "tilt, compress, pump, and release" and I found that just as maddening. Especially because these actions were required of me in public restrooms. And let's just say that I reeked of dairy by the end of it all.

Because I cook everything from scratch when we're at home in China, I'll just admit that I've loved processed foods! I never thought I'd say that. But, to go to the store with frozen food and stick it in the oven for 15 minutes and have dinner is a welcomed treat. And for the record, cooking from scratch is only glamorous in magazines and in your head. While it's healthier, it's a pain in the tail. Let's just be honest.

Americans are also busy. Busy and tired. I don't think technology is helping at all. There have been times that I've wanted to run into the woods and forage berries just to get away from our crazy schedules. But, for now, I will eat granola. From a box. And we will get to meet with awesome people and eat amazing food.

Oh ya, I got my haircut. I was sporting the wind blown look, but without the wind and without the style. So, here it is. I love the cut. But, the color is crazy dark. I don't want to put color in it, but I will say that it's "bad toupee" brown. Oh well.

And here's my sweet Charis who also got her mullet cut off. The Billy Ray had run it's course.
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