Captain Rex Influence

I have to hand it to my daughter, she's definitely something else. Growing up, I was never into the whole princess scene especially as I got older. Amazingly, my daughter isn't either. She's more into boy things and doesn't want to be pretty. I've had somewhat of a problem accepting this because I think she is so beautiful. When she was little, I'd love dressing her up in these beautiful dresses and getting her hair all prettied up. Now she won't wear dresses and will only either have her hair down, or up in a ponytail. So today for Characters Day at school she wanted to be Captain Rex from the Clone Wars in Star Wars. Fine, I thought. As I was driving her off at school this morning, I saw all these pretty little girls in their faries and princess outfits and, yes I hate the princess scene - I would love to see her in one of those outfits...at least once.

Take The Easiest Road...

Sometimes I think that people take the easiest road, the road that doesn't require lifting a finger or going outside their realm of comfort. I knew for about a week that there were two American men and two Guatemalans who needed a place to stay for 4 days for Operation Club Foot. The two Americans were living in a monestary in Guatemala and the two Guatemalans consisted of a mother and a daughter with two club feet. They traveled 10 hours by bus to bring the mother and daughter here to Tegucigalpa.

On Friday, I seriously thought about housing them during this time. Totally thought about it, and damn it, the honest truth is that - and I hate to say this, and I cringe when I think about it - it was inconvenient for me and my family. Ugh, there I said it. I totally could have housed them. We have a huge basement downstairs, but I was thinking about all the things I have to do this week... the children's activities, working, this and that, and blah, blah, blah. Since I don't have a live-in housekeeper, I would have to physically be at home each and everytime they left the house or returned. And I just wasn't prepared for that responsibility. I've had Peace Corps volunteers stay at our house before, but that's usually one night.

Ok, so that's my confession. It doesn't make me feel better, especially since I actually met them today and they are sooooo nice! I could have totally kept them at our house, no problem, but no, I choice the easiest road. Instead they stayed at the hospital housing the first two nights, then stayed at a low-end motel last night and tonight. Ugh, I hate myself sometimes.

Visiting San Felipe - a little guilt...

I visited San Felipe for Operation Club Foot yesterday. I did something that I am not proud of. I thought I'd donate 200+ slinkies and three bags of clothes that my son doesn't fit anymore. But the question was, since there were so many parents there, who would I give the clothes to? Eventually, three moms gathered around me asking, in an almost demanding way, for some clothes for their daughters. I told them repeatedly that I only have boy clothes to give and they kept saying that they'd like clothes for their daughters and I got a little irritated and I raised my voice and said, "I only have boy clothes!" And they nodded their heads and kind of backed off. I gave them the clothes that I had, even though some were blue. I felt bad for raising my voice, but I just needed some space. And I felt like they weren't saying please or anything, which was probably why I was a little irritated. It's almost like they were expecting me to give them something, like I had to give them something. In the end though, they said the words that I was looking for - Gracias. That word always makes things a little better.

Twitter...

It's bad enough that I have an unmanageable addiction to Facebook, but still I signed up for Twitter. I'm not even close to being addicted to Twitter as I am to Facebook. In some ways, I find it annoying really. But this morning came a new low. What kind of world are we living in when I just twittered that I'm eating a bowl of Koala Crisp cereal? Scary.

American Idol Already?

Ok, so my good friends know that I'm totally in love with David Cook, in a "I totally respect him as an artist" way. And he's kinda hot, but not Brad Pitt or David Beckham hot, but omg-your-voice-is-so-unbelievable-hot (and I'm not even going to mention about his guitar skills). After last season he started dating a former American Idol contestant and I'm like whatever. Catty high school Portia came out and I was like, he can totally do better...(me. Ha, just kidding. Seriously. Just kidding). So today I found out that the two broke up. Well, I'm kinda indifferent to tell you the truth, but still - damn it, what was my point of this whole blog? Whatever. I drank several cups of highly caffeinated tea AGAIN and my thoughts are racing a million miles per second - totally going ADD here...

And wow, today starts the new American Idol season. I've always been a fan, but David Cook isn't on it this season nor will there be a David Cool replacement, so I'm not that interested. I'll probably still watch it.

Come Look At This - *end scene*

Every now and then there's a weird scene in a movie where a character gets approached by another character who doesn't really know that him/her very well. Then all of a sudden, that person starts revealing something that you would only tell your most trusted friend or relative. And you're thinking, "that doesn't happen in real life" and the whole movie is pretty much ruined. But today something like that happened.

There's a guy that works on my floor who I have always thought to be super nice. He's told me things about his family that I'm sure he hasn't told anyone before and I just smile and try not to offer any advice because I don't know him that well. Today, I stopped by his office for a work related question. We talked about that for a while. Then I asked, "How are you doing?" and he looks around and says, "Come here. You're my friend so I can show you this." I'm thinking...unrealistic movie scene! He takes something from his desk and asks me to read it. It is an official notice from his boss saying this and that about his past work conduct. There were some serious stuff in there and I'm like...hmm, I can't believe he's showing me this. I talked with him a bit and listened. I realized that people just need people to listen to them sometimes. So that's what I did.

So I went back to my office and I see 2 or 3 folders from women desperate to work as a nanny or housekeeper. Each folder has letters of recommendation and copies of their idenfication cards. I'm looking at these unemployed women's ID cards and I'm feeling super bad for them of course. Last summer my dad lost his job after almost 15 years with the same company. He's living off unemployment - for how long, I don't know. He rents a modest living space in Central California. He's doing ok, given the situation. At least he gives off that impression. But these women who are in their 40s and 50s can't be doing too well. I wonder to myself, "how are they living" without any money? It's not like they get unemployment. Are they just sitting there in their homes, waiting and praying that someone will call them so can feed their families? It just breaks my heart.

Speaking of which, we're getting closer and closer to our moving date back to the United States. Instead of being completely happy about this (well, don't get me wrong...I AM extemely happy), I'm feeling very sad about leaving our helpers, especially the older one who has been with us for almost 4 years and takes care of my son like he were her own (a fact that, to be honest, bothers me a little bit). I'm repeatedly asked by people, "why don't you take her to United States?" And I just can't give them a good reason why I don't want to. I guess it's mainly because I want to be a mom again. A full-time mom. Something I totally enjoyed raising my oldest daughter. Although she doesn't live with us, she knows my son too well. She knows when it's time for him eat, shower, play, sleep. Everything. And if she goes with us to the United States, I can't be the mom that I want to be. The mom who I was with Miadora. I'd be "that" mom. And I'm not entirely convinced that she would be completely happy living with us anyway. When she went with me in California last year for a month and a half, it was the first time that it was she was living with us. She cried a lot because she missed Honduras. I totally understand. I think I am making the right decision with this. I just dread that day when we have to say goodbye to her. I don't want to see her saying goodbye to my son. I know it's going to break her heart.

On the plus side, I am making sure that she will never have to clean a single house after we leave. Last year I gave her a brand new sewing machine and a month ago, I bought her 8 or 9 patterns so she can make clothing and sell that instead and get a business going. I have told her to find out more about sewing classes so she can perfect this art. I don't care how much it is or what the schedule is. I want her to take those classes. Also her daughter (a former part-time nanny of my daughter) bought a pulperia (a dream for many Hondurans!) and we are helping with that as much as possible. I want them to have businesses and other means of income, so that they don't end up like the women in the folders sitting on my desk. I know they will be fine and I will continue to keep in touch with them. We are even making arrangements so that she can visit us several times while we are living in the States.

More Organic Cookies

I'd have to say that as far as shopping goes, Tegucigalpa isn't too bad. I've always been really into organic and natural food products and when I moved here almost 4 years ago, I was worried that I would not be able to find too many of the products my family and I normally eat. But I have found that I am able to order a lot through the commissary shipment, online, and sometimes I'll even find them here in the city at places like Pricesmart, Mas Por Menos and Cafe Honore...at an inflated price. But usually when I come back to the United States, I'll bring a whole bunch of organic products back. Last time I was in California, back in the summer, I brought back several boxes of organic snacks and cookies for the children. I've noticed that I'm on my last box! And this particular product that my kids love is from Safeway's O Organics, and they do not ship online of course. I haven't done this in a while, but I guess I'll have to ask my mom to buy them and ship them to me. I normally avoid this because it gets pretty expensive with the shipping (even though my mom won't even think of accepting payment from me).

Now that I think about it, I wonder if I should just get Earth's Best instead? They have organic cookies that my kids love as well, plus other the cereal bars that have 25% iron in each one. Since Timmy isn't a huge meat eater, this helps a lot. More importantly, they ship APOs!

My Son Needs A Haircut

My son is 19 months old and he still hasn't had his haircut yet. I really think he needs one because his hair is down to below his shoulders and his bangs are starting to bother his eyes. But, I love his curls! I've read that when you but a baby's curls, it may not grow back curly. I have several reasons why I'm postponing his first haircut:

1) The curls issue (again, I love his curls)
2) What style would I do? A total buzz cut, or just a few inches off so he can at least keep some of his curls?
3) Where would I go? I don't know too many family salons here in Teguc. Yes, I know they exist, I just don't know where! And for his first haircut, I'd really like to take photos with my good camera, but here I'm not supposed to have cameras out for safety reasons. I'll still take photos, but be very vigilant about it.

Another example of Honduran life

Maria Luisa, our housekeeper of 3 and a half years, has had a brother in the hospital for about a week. Not sure exactly what it is, but it had something to do with his liver from decades of hard drinking she says. This morning she called me to tell me she wasn't coming in today because he passed away last night. He was at Hospital Escuela, which I have heard is slowly improving, but still lacking in every way possible. I was very sad for her and I wondered if he could have been saved if he was in a better hospital or had better workers? I will never know if this would have made a difference, but it probably would have helped somewhat. It's just another reminder of how tough life is for these people. I would actually consider Maria Luisa and her family low to middle class, not poor at all. So then imagine what it's like for those extremely improvished people? Is there no hope for them at all?

On the other hand, I get to spend time with my son. Of course I try to spend as much time with my children as possible, but when there is someone else in the house to watch your kids, it's so easy to just give the kids to them while you run errands. So this morning, I may not have written and answered all the emails, or gotten any online Christmas shopping done, but I did get to water the frontyard and backyard plants with him, watched Thomas the Train while explaining the difference between a diesel and a steam engine, and shared a bowl of eggs and rice with him. The emails can wait.

So This Is Christmas...

It's Sunday, the day after my toy drive, and I am officially exhausted. It's been extremely tiring and emotionally draining, but my 4th and last toy drive is but a distant memory.

I'll admit it, I cried. Twice. I didn't want to, but I just broke down. More on that later.

It started off on the wrong foot Saturday morning. After staying up until 10pm on Friday night packing about 95% of the toys, along with some very kind friends helping, I decided I was done. I glanced at the cookies and juice that people have been donating for the children and it didn't look like it would be enough for 450+ children. Crap, I'm not going anywhere tonight, I thought. So in the morning, I decided that I would go and buy more cookies and juice. I left about 7:40am and although I knew that people would start trickling in about 8am, I had no choice. Maureen, a Peace Corps volunteer who stayed over at our house Friday night, stayed and opened the doors for people. I didn't get back to my house until 8:30am+ and of course everyone was already at my house. We all ended up leaving for Ojojona and what would happen on our way there? We, as the lead car, missed our turn. Crap. This is Honduras - it's not always that easy to get back on the right track once you've missed an exit. I called one of the Embassy's drivers and asked him what the hell to do now. Thank goodness he was able to lead us back on the right track, literally.

We get there in Ojojona and it looks good so far. It's the same day as the start of the Fair in Ojojona, but there isn't too much of a crowd yet. Maribel, my main contact in Ojojona, is there waiting for me. She works in the municipality in Ojojona to better women's lives. She is a fighter and a hero of mine. Two Peace Corps volunteers are also there, along with the pick up truck I would rent for Lps. 600. Very cool. No waiting. We get down to walk around a bit and go to the bathroom, then we're off! All of the people with us, except for two, have never taken this trek with me before. It seems that whoever goes in the previous years don't return with me. Why would they? It's sacrificing their whole Saturday, driving 5mph on an unpaved, rocky, hilly road for two hours to see dirty, poor children and their parents. Who would be crazy enough to do that????

As we're driving, I think there is a lot of tension and fear among the two SUVs following us. This is their first year, and they didn't expect the roads to be this scary. Ten minutes before our destination, we stop to regroup. Santa and Pepe, the non-Spanish speaking elf, get dressed in the woods. There are two stories here. The first, the funny, haha-look-our-friends-are-getting-dressed-up-hey-lets-take-tons-of-blackmail-photos part.

Then there's the second story. The real reason I have been doing this for years. The children:

We arrive at the "school" (what school do you know have a few tables and chairs and no books?) and the children are waiting for us, and they have been since 9am. It is now 11:00am. They are quiet and cautious as I approach them with a smile and even mutter a few words of greeting. I ask my friend Luis to get the kids separated by gender, youngest at the front. Sadly, when you ask these children how old they are, they just look at you like it's the toughest question in the world. Sometimes their parents don't even know.

I ask for the keys to open the door to the school so we can set up the cookies and drinks inside. Of course, the keys are nowhere to be found. I ask for a table and a chair for Santa. Nada. Finally, someone is able to find a table and a chair for me in one of the houses near by. We set up the toys behind the table and chair. I'm noticing that there is nowhere near the 450 kids I was expecting. Nothing close to that. I'm relieved, yet saddened because I really wanted to get those kids some toys, especially on my last year. I ask and they say that one of the aldeas (villages) didn't show up because word probably didn't get around to them. I look at the bright side: it's easier to manage now.

Luis gets the kids excited, as much as unenergized, malnourished children can be, to see Santa. Finally Santa and Pepe, who have been waiting behind the hill the whole time, come down and greet the children. Many are smiling, and many more are a little confused, as is Santa himself I presume. Santa, who this year is played convincingly by one of the Marines, sits down and talks to the first child. She wants nothing to do with this and doesn't come forward. Santa, trying his best to make this work, entices her with a toy. It doesn't work. The mom comes by and tells the child it's ok. Finally she takes the toy, apprehensively. It's as if this is the first time in her life anyone has ever given her anything. And sadly, it probably was.

Things go a little smoother as the children go down the line. Then it hits me - this is my last year. I look at the children, and I don't see their beauty anymore. I see everything that is wrong with them. Their dirty faces, their tattered clothes, their shoeless feet, their lack of energy due to malnutrition, their ignorance from not being schooled. I look at their parents and I see they are no different from their children. It's as if I am seeing into their children's future, and it does not look good. I get mad. At the system. At the government. At the rich. At the way things are. It doesn't have to be this way. Why is it? Not being able to help myself, I repeat to myself, "No child should live like this!"

Then I turn away and cry. I'm giving them toys. Toys? They don't need toys, they need shoes and clothes, they need food, they need comfort, they need EDUCATION. They need a fucking future. I can't stop crying. Some haven't eaten in days and I'm giving them a fucking soccer ball. I go for a walk and try to calm myself down.

I often look at my own children and I see so much spunk and internal strength. They rule our house today, and will one day rule the world if they so choose. These children that I am looking at don't believe that. This is their now, and this is their future. Without hope, any sign of a future is gone. They just lack spirit because no one has ever told them that it's there. They just have to one day find it.

I vow that will try to do more work in the future. Even as I return to Washington D.C. next year, I will continue working for these children. It may not be giving away toys, but it'll be in some other way.

I speak with the aldea leader, a soft-spoken man. I ask his name, but no matter how many times I ask him to repeat it, I could not say it back. He tells me that he has a three-year-old girl with cerebal palsy and hands me a paper from the hospital with her information on it. He asks if he can bring home a toy to her as his eyes well up with tears. If I was sad and crying earlier, how must these people be feeling on a day-to-day basis?

After they receive their toys, they walk over to the other side and take their cookies and juice. We are getting close to the end of the lines and I'm somewhat satisfied. Not completely, of course. People who stand up for change do so because they are never satisfied.

We leave, and that's it. My 4th toy drive in Ojojona has come and gone. I don't feel like crying at this point. I feel somewhat indifferent.

Next comes my favorite part, handing out toys to children who live in the houses on our path back. We've always done this in the previous years, but this time, it was hardcore. We had more than enough toys left over so I was determined to give away as much as possible. Any child within a shouting radius was not safe from our toy purging. At first, it was slow and infrequent. I had to keep getting out of the truck to find a toy in the back. Then after several stops, it occured to me that it was better to take a few toys with me to my seat. Then from there, it evolved into bringing in bags and bags of toys with me.

We'd stop and my helpers would give them cookies and candycanes and I'd give them the bags of toys. After a while, more bags from one of the SUVs following behind were delivered to the pickup truck in front of us. In that pick-up truck was Maribel, a Marine, an English teacher and two Honduran college students (with whom I was very pleased to see helping their fellow Honduras - Hondurans helping Hondurans - what a concept). They probably couldn't have been more different, but yet here they were, waving and shouting for the kids to come out of their houses and get their toys! And boy did the kids come, one, two, three, four, five at a time, running, jumping, falling over - just for a toy. They were extremely thankful. You can see it in their eyes.

Suddenly, it occured to me. I may not be able to change their lives, or their way of life, like I wanted to back there at the school, crying and cursing this country. It may happen one day, if Honduras gets better leaders, leaders who know what it's like to be poor and humble and who fight for their own people the way Maribel and that man with the unpronouncable name do, and when they instill in their children a goal of getting a better education, so that they may not end up like themselves.

But for today, for these last several hours anyway, I've given them something to smile about. They now have a teddy bear to hug during those lonely nights, a puzzle to stimulate their minds, coloring books to help their creativity. In their faces, I saw confusion at first at the idea of a complete stranger handing them a bag of toys, then elation. You care about us?, their eyes seemed to question. Then smiles and lo and behold, a sparkle in their eyes! The same sparkle that exists in my children's eyes! They are no different from my kids, except for the fact that they were born into his life. If only these kids believed they could rule the world as well.

The Day Before The Toy Drive

It's crunch time. Less than 24 hours before I leave my house for Ojojona and do my very last toy drive there. Sad? Yes! Relieved? Yeah, kinda. And I feel guilty for saying that. I will still continue working for the Hondurans even when I'm in D.C. (I hope).

I have to include this blog from Michael Miller, from the very generous Micah Project, here in Tegucigalpa. When I read it here at work, I was having a very hard time not breaking down in tears. It really is heartbreaking, yet inspiring. It makes me wonder just how things can rapidly change here in Honduras if there were more Michaels around.

Here's his post:

As I write this, I have a little street boy named Hector looking over my shoulder. He can’t read or write, and when I asked him for his birthday, he didn’t know. He thinks that he is thirteen, although to look at him, you’d think that he is eight or nine. He just had breakfast with the other Micah boys, and came in to ask me something before our devotional time in a few minutes.“Michael, can I stay here forever?”Honestly, I wasn’t too surprised by the question, since he asked me the same question last night before bed. Even so, the question stopped me in my tracks.

One answer, yes or no, could determine the future course of this young life. So…what do I say?We have gotten to know Hector well through our street ministry over the last year. He occasionally lives with his dad, who sells fruit out of a wheelbarrow in the market area of Tegucigalpa, but most of the time, his addiction to yellow glue keeps him on the streets.As we have gotten to know Hector, both on the streets and through the Saturday outings that he occasionally joins us on, we have found a sweet kid with a pleasant personality. Even so, whenever we have talked to him about joining the Micah Project, he can never see clearly enough through the fog of his addiction to accept our offer. .

Lately, though, his defenses have been lowering little by little as he has come to trust us more. Last night, a “cold front” came through Honduras, with temperatures in the 50s (okay, I know that’s nothing to cry about, but for Hondurans, it’s considered a deep freeze!). Hector came up to the Micah House looking for food in an old battered coat that was about three times his size. After feeding him, we decided to let him sleep in the house so that he wouldn’t have to spend a cold night on the streets.

So put yourself in my shoes. The kid spent a peaceful night of sleep in the Micah House. Now, he has his arm around you, shivering from the cold air, asking if you will take him in. You know that if you say no, or not right now, or we will talk about it as a staff and get back to you, you are sending him back to the streets, and closing this window of opportunity that the cold air has shaken open.
So…Can Hector stay with us forever? My answer is: I sure hope so!

Now we are praying that one cold night might be the turning point in Hector’s life. The glue addiction is strong; both Wilmer and little Marvin, who joined us in June of 2007, are still struggling to overcome theirs. To truly overcome the addiction to glue and to street life in general, the following things are indispensable: personal determination, a unified group of people at Micah that are willing to help every step of the way, and a constant sense that there is something better waiting for them in the future. And…of course…lots and lots of people praying.

We’ll let you know how it goes!I also wanted to update you on the flooding here in Honduras as well. I was just up at the public school two blocks from the Micah House. There are almost forty families in the school that have either lost their homes or have been forcibly evacuated from them because of fear of landslides.

Though the rain has pretty much stopped, at least in Tegucigalpa, the ground is incredibly saturated, and anyone who lives in wooden shacks clinging to hillsides, which is a common site in Tegucigalpa, is at risk of a landslide.We continue to help out the families in the shelter when we can. We have provided dinner at the shelter and continue to provide supplies when they run out. I have talked to several of the families in the shelter, and they are not sure how long they will be there or if they will be allowed to return to their homes once things dry out. Additionally, we have helped two families rent small rooms in order to get them out of dangerous situations. One of the families is Maycol’s mom, whose shack is beginning to tilt dangerously downhill. A few of our guys helped her and her family move to safer ground yesterday. We will see what happens to these families once this time of crisis passes.This week is the tenth anniversary of Hurricane Mitch’s destructive passage through Honduras. The BBC has written a good report on Honduras ten years after Mitch. You can link to it here: http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/americas/7682412.stm .I appreciate your prayers for Hector and for the victims of the recent flooding!Muchas gracias,Michael MillerThe Micah Project ( http://www.micahcentral.org/ )

Thursday Before The Toy Drive

It's really coming together...kind of. I had a bunch of people over for a "coffee" type thing that they do every other Thursday. Instead of the typical coffee, I put the people to work helping with seperating and packing toys! I think they enjoyed it, I hope it. It was a little different from the typical frou frou Coffees and it was actually very helpful to me. I don't drink coffee so I didn't actually have any coffee. I did have tea, however. It was so refreshing to see these people coming to the Coffee with my bags of toys in their hands. A Coffee with a purpose! But without coffee.

I haven't counted all the toys yet, but it looks like we're going to be pretty short. That's going to suck big if I ran out. Each year, I always think I will run out of toys, but it always works out. This year I think it will work out as well.

I'm still working out the transportation issue. Right now we have three vehicles and I'm not sure that everyone and every box will fit. Once we get to Ojojona, we will need to pick up 4 more people. I may need to rent a pick up truck for Lps. 600 in Ojojona, just in case. That may be the way to go. Last year, we definitely had a lot more people coming with me. This year, a lot of those people either left Honduras or don't want to do it again. That's fine. That's really their choice.

I had to do my Girl Scout demonstation in about 2 hours. That should be pretty interesting.

Our Non-Traditional Thanksgiving Menu

We had a great Thanksgiving this year. Our plans unexpectedly changed at the very last minute, something I was not too happy about. So when faced with what to do for Thanksgiving, I thought we'd either have a nice, quiet meal as a family, or have a HUGE dinner at our house. I decided on the latter, because it was to be our last Thanksgiving here in Honduras. I invited a lot of international people, because they don't really celebrate Thanksgiving, so I thought it would be a great way to share a little tradition. Of course, we are far from traditional. I don't ever cook a turkey - they are extremely smart creatures. And the other dishes are pretty boring to me. The only real traditional dish is my husband's stuffing, which is great. And the cranberry sauce. Instead I made several ethnic dishes, including Chicken Adobo!!!

One of guests had a guitar so after dinner he played it, and some of the guests sang. The children played. It was really, really wonderful. I don't usually drink, but I had a few glasses of Italian white wine.

Our Menu:

Salmon with Dill Butter Sauce






Herb Encrusted Pork Loin
I don't cook meats other than chicken or seafood in my house, but I figured the guests will love it, and they did





Chicken and Zuchini with Cilantro Coconut Sauce
I got this recipe from a British podcast I downloaded from iTunes called "10 Minutes to Table." It really was easy. Just add handfuls of cilantro in coconut milk, and with a stick blender, mix it up and add to the already sauteeing chicken and zuchini.

French Rosemary Chicken

Smoke Salmon, Capers, Cream Cheese and Onions

Soy Balm Making!

Well, after almost 4 years in hiatus, I made 6 tins of Soy Balm, to prepare myself for the Girl Scouts demonstration. I have been dreading this whole thing ever since I found out about it, and yes, I know, I didn't have a gun to my head, but I really, really, really didn't want to revisit that part of my life. But yesterday, I opened up more boxes full of my crap, and I found some more soap supplies I thought I had lost. I felt a little better about my demonstration. So today, after hours of stalling, I packed up my unrefined shea butter, sweet almond oil, extra virgin olive oil, soy wax, and my lavender essential oil and I went to the kitchen and went to work. Holy crap, I actually enjoyed it! I remembered now how much I loved and miss having my business. Perhaps when I return to the States, I can continue my business.

This Crazy Week

I'm seriously freaking out here. Yes, I've tried meditating again, and repeating mantras, but damn it, I am freaking out!!!! This toy drive is becoming to be such a hassle...I hate to say. But I know once the day starts and I see those smiling faces, everything will be ok, and I'll be happy that I did it, because who else would have? It's just a ton of planning! A TON! I still don't know who is going to be Santa and the elf, and I am not sure I have enough toys to help out 450+ kids.

To top it off, I've signed on to do a soap making demonstration for the Girl Scouts. I still can't find all my stuff. I can't find the labels and the molds and I think a few boxes are still in the storage room. I really hate revisiting the whole bath products making thing. 3 1/2 years ago, I had to say goodbye to it because we moved to Honduras, just when it was starting to do well. Yes, I've missed, but at the same time, I was relieved! It's hard work having a business. Absolutely hard work. And even when I wasn't physically making the products, I would sleep, eat and drink the business. It never left my mind. So as I said, I was a little relieved I wasn't doing the business anymore. Now because I have to do this demonstation, I've to open up these boxes...boxes I haven't seen in almost 4 years. Today, I opened up more boxes and looked through my stuff. Omg, I started missing having a business! Maybe I'll start again when I return to D.C. Who knows?

And this whole week, my husband will be gone AND I have to work. That totally sucks. But after Saturday night, I'm going to be so happy this week will be over with. I'll need to celebrate or something! Then a week after that, we're going to Orlando! Woohoo!

Need To Get Going On My 4th Toy Drive...

Lately I've been in this horrible funk during my last months here in Honduras. I feel overwhelmed and sad at the thought of leaving. Yes, Honduras has its problems, and not the problems that other Americans worry about...but real problems...that everyday Honduran people have to deal with - poverty, lack of education, corruption, hopelessness. These are real issues that I worry about, and for some reason, I think that I can help with.

Well, I'm going on my last 9 months here and I just don't think I have the drive to do another project. Then the guilt sets in. In my first two years here, before I started working, I was so driven to help in everything. And in the process, I started this little toy drive in Ojojona, among other things. This year will be my 4th and last toy drive and I'm expecting to give toys to close than 500 children! But you know...honestly...I'm lacking that motivation! I really don't know why. I know I have to do this because no one will, and I know that hundreds of children are counting on me. I suppose it's the planning part I don't really want to do. I'm just tired and exhausted, for whatever reason.

So this morning, I was watching the news in the morning, something I rarely get to do with kids. And there comes in this story about this young man who used to be a nightclub promoter but decided to do something more worthwhile in his life. In 1996, he established an NGO called Charity: Water. Since then he's given clean water to hundreds of villages all over the country. He is someone whom I strived to be 4 years ago apon arriving here in Honduras. Hopefully a story like this will give me the drive I need to get my butt back in gear.

Our Trip To La Ceiba

Pictures from Cuero y SaladoA Baby Croc

View from the Boat

Firefly

Politics - the unread letter and the adoption

I've always been a nerdy nerd, which is why I have found politics to be incredibly exciting. Now with the elections this year, I've gone from nerdy nerd to super duper nerdy nerd. Anyone who knows who I am knows who I am going to vote for this year. It's really a no-brainer. Nothing wrong with McCain, I actually think he's more moderate than a lot of the hardcore Republicans out there, so that's somewhat cool. But I feel that Obama is definitely the one for me.

I remember his unbelievable speech 4 years ago, during the Democratic conventions. At the time, he was a State Senator running for U.S. Senator, but his speech....Man, I couldn't believe it. I felt like I had just witnessed something amazing - a true turning point in history. Who was this man, I thought? The next day, I wanted to sit down and write the man a letter asking him to run for president one day. I also wanted to warn him to not become too immersed in the political scene that he forgets about the reason he was running in the first place - us, the people. But for whatever reason, I just got lazy and didn't write it. Now 4 years later, here he is running for president and I couldn't be happier. It's just such an exciting time in politics right now.

Now for McCain. I have oodles of respect for the guy. I've had it since he ran against Bush before the first election. Recently, I decided to google his family and lo and behold I see a little girl who didn't look like the rest of the family. I did further research and I found out that she was adopted from Bangladesh at a Mother Teresa orphanage. I hadn't heard about this until now. In my eyes, that puts him in a different light. Adoption to me is quite possibly the most selfless act a person can ever do. Period. To look at a child's eyes, perhaps at the time a complete stranger, and call him/her your baby...nurture, care and love, as if this child were your own is completely amazing and inspiring. And the future that the child will have...it's just wonderful. I have 101% respect for people who adopt.

Each day, I am saddened by the children on the street. They ask me for food or money. It's hard for me to look them in the eyes sometimes. Looking at them in the eyes personifies them and makes them into real people, hence making it harder to drive away from them. It makes me angry that this type of life still exists in a country where the richest of the rich are living in 10,000 square feet homes and driving Lexus SUVs. If only someone can take care of these children...perhaps adopt them...then that would make a world of difference. I see the children, then I see what they CAN be, and it makes it harder to accept such a thing.

So kudos to McCain for doing the adoption route. Still, I'm for Obama.

Back to Blogging

Ok, here I go again, blog writing. I stopped writing for months because, well, it's a long story. Let's just say something horribly unspeakable happened a few months ago...something that I thought would never end well. But you know what? Two months later, things have actually gotten better. I can't believe it.

My mom miraculously made a recovery and is back to her usual self, if not better. I cannot believe it. Part of me doesn't want to write about it too much because I don't want to "jinx" her recovery, but it's been unbelievable. This isn't a fluke. I think her recovery is real. That's not to say that I'm not scared to bits of a relapse. But I'm anxious to put this nightmare behind me.

I plan to visit California again. When I visited in April and May, her illness was just starting. Then when I visited in July and August, it was at the absolute height of her illness, including staying at two hospitals for almost a month. I wouldn't call those good visits at all. I'd like to visit again now that she is better. I'd like that a lot. She's asked me to visit because when the kids and I were there the last couple of times, she wasn't herself. Now she misses the children and wants to see and play with them...and just be a grandma. Period. She talks to Miadora on the phone like normal. Miadora is not scared of her voice anymore. In fact, she says that "grandma's back!" I'm hoping that she's back for good!

Swimming Classes at the YMCA

To keep Miadora from going ape crazy, I signed her for swimming classes and she absolutely loves it! It started on Monday and she's so excited to go everyday. I don't know if it's because she made new friends at the class. Like would she have taken the class seriously if she didn't have her news friends there? It's interesting because Miadora has never really made friends here in the United States because we moved to Honduras when she was 18-months. It's a silly question but is making friends the same here as in Honduras? Normally there, if two kids hit it off, then we parents arrange playdates.

I was shopping for a swimsuit last week at the 6yrs girls and up section, even though she is only 4 (I couldn't find her section!) and my goodness, they were so inappropriate! Call me old-fashioned - and I'm actually not - but all I saw were all these two piece suits and all the one-pieces had big gaping holes in the back and the sides. Finally I saw the right section for her age.

What Does WuWu Mean?

Tuesday night, my dad is watching the two children in the bath. Miadora got out of the bath to use the toilet while Timmy remained in the tub. My dad runs out of the bathroom and asks me what "wuwu" while he was doing the sign language for "change diaper" meant. Apparently, that was what Timmy was doing...saying "wuwu" and doing the sign language for "change diaper." I run into the bathroom and there are two pieces of turd floating in the bathtub. Sweet. I'll spare the details on how I cleaned that up.

I think it's cool how he's doing sign language though. He should get potty trained pretty soon before he gets too bored with it.

My Fun Trip To Stanford

My uncle came down from Arizona the night before to be there for the Stanford appointment. My mom, of course, didn't want to go. She was nervous and shaking before my uncle arrived and I'm telling her to calm down and relax.

So the day of, she was of course nervous, as were we. We had a lot riding on the Stanford thing. It was just a consultation with a neurologist, but we wanted her to stay there until they find out what the hell is wrong with her. But we knew that wasn't going to happen.

We take two vehicles, my dad, the kids and I are in his truck (with the broken AC mind you), and my stepdad, uncle and mom are in the other car. We follow each other almost 2 hours to Stanford until of course we lose each other. But it's ok because my dad has a general idea where it is. Miadora, sitting in the back, wakes up - and throws up all over herself...4 or 5 times. Crap. She's totally soaked. I wasn't familiar with the Palo Alto area but I tell my dad to keep driving until we find a clothing store. Lo and behold, we see Stanford Shopping Center! We drive there and keep driving until I find a store...which took a while. Then I see it - GAP KIDS! Yay! Now, don't get me wrong, I have never shopped at a GAP...you know, for the whole children slave labor/sweat shop thing, but I was desperate. I actually thought the clothes were really cute! I guess I'm allowed to let my social consciousness go to rest every now and then, especially when your daughter is waiting in a truck soaked in her own puke. I pick out two outfits, with shoes, because, yes, she did throw up on her shoes too. Thank goodness it was a watery puke, not a food puke. I go to the counter and I'm rushing big time. "Would you like to apply for a GAP credit card?" she asks. No, not now...

I get to the car and I clean her up and put on her new clothes. Very cute. Although they were made in Philippines, where I was born. Still, they were cute.

(pictured) Miadora's new GAP outfit, outside Stanford Medical Center.

Finally we go to the Stanford Medical Center and we catch up with my mom.

Getting Nervous...

Tomorrow is the big Stanford Hospital appointment for my mom. I'm so nervous. What if I hear those damn words again..."sorry, we can't help you?" I keep praying to find that special doctor or medical professional who will think outside the box and help my mom. Obviously what she has is something rare. I hope that we will find that person in Stanford. This is probably our last hope.

I'll tell you what pisses me off about healthcare here in the United States. Why does it take so damn long to get the test results back? Last week, my husband, still in Honduras, was not feeling well. He got his blood drawn Monday morning, and by the late afternoon, he had gotten the results back! When my mom takes a blood test, it's not back for at least a week. In the meantine, we're waiting anxiously and she's suffering.

Lee's Sandwiches

We went to Lee's Sandwiches in San Jose today. I ordered the Fish Ball Baguette Sandwich and it was really, really good. BUT it was so spicy, I had to stop a few times and take a drink from my Thai Iced Tea Pearl Drink. I had the fish ball sandwich before but I don't remember it being that spicy. I have a high tolerance for spicy food so I know this was pretty spicy.

The fish balls were sliced thinly with a spicy relish of carrots and I think radishes. Cilantro topped the baguette sandwich off. It was good but I remember it being better. This was an interesting restaurant. They had Asian and European sandwiches along with other Asian foods like fresh eggrolls and other dishes I wasn't too familiar with.

One thing I didn't like was the smell of the bathroom cleaning equipment next to us. And mops, I hate mops.

PF Chang's Is Awesome

To get my mind off of the situation with my mom, I went to PF Chang's with my dad, kids and sister. I have to say, it was DELISH! The Ma Po Tofu was absolutely amazing! We also ordered shrimp with candied walnuts and some other noodle dish.

I'm such a foodie and sometimes enjoying great food helps me cope with the situation at home.

Give Me Window Seats or Give Me Death!

I took a different route to California this time around because of the airport situation in Honduras. I took a 5 hour bus trip to San Salvador, then waited for 4 hours, then took a 6 hour flight to San Francisco. Yes, it was as rough as it sounds. I had two children with me, one who had a fever that wouldn't go down and who was also teething.

I didn't think the bus trip would be a big deal, but it actually was. True to Honduran tradition, it actually didn't leave until about an hour after the original departure time. The bus stopped by Wendy's for a to-go breakfast. Cool, I thought. On the TV monitor was a Martin Lawrence movie. Not so cool I thought. The first two hours were super rough because of the winding roads. I've taken those winding roads before but this was rougher because we were on the second level of the bus and not being able to see the whole road made me car sick. Luckily the baby was asleep for most of the first two hours. Then he woke up...and cried almost the whole way. We didn't know what to do. He was teething and had very little sleep the night before - nothing was soothing him.

We arrive at the border between Honduras and El Salvador and I was actually kind of excited. I had heard that El Salvador was very similiar to Honduras, only the roads are better. We drive slowly past a bridge and I see this beautiful mountain overlooking this dirty river. Still - I focused on the mountain. Nice, I thought, we're in El Salvador, how exciti...just then...a man with a garbage can walks alongside the bus and throws the contents of the can over the freaking bridge and into the river! WTFH????

We go through immigration and I hear a man outside repeatedly yelling in Spanish if anyone would like to exchange lempiras for dollars, the currency in El Salvador. I didn't feel like I was in danger or anything, it just reminded me of a Harrison Ford movie.

Two hours later, we arrive in San Salvador, the capital city. Our friend, his daughter and their driver are there waiting for us. They take us to their house. Their daughter is my daughter's best friend from when they used to live in Honduras, so it was a great reunion for the children. They have a baby too so it was perfect combination. We stayed at their house for about 4 hours. We ate lunch and the kids played, just like old times in Honduras. About an hour and a half before my flight, the driver takes us to the airport. My daughter starts dozing off and so does my son for a little bit. Great, I thought. I was counting on them sleeping during this night flight.

So anyway, we get to the airport ticket counter and for some unknown reason to fuck up everything, they have changed my tickets from a window seat, sitting together with the children to middle seats several rows apart! Great idea, idiots. So not only will I travel alone with the children, but I'm going to have to fight with these crapheads to get us to sit together. I show the dude my printed confirmation with our assigned seats that were supposed to be CONFIRMADO. He says I'll have to change it once I get in the gate. Shit. So I started to walk to the gate and I look at my teething, crying son and I'm like...well, shit. I start to have a minor panic attack at the thought that my husband will not fly with us and I will get NO help. So I say goodbye to him and I'm like, I don't feel good. But I had to suck it up I guess and I promptly said goodbye to my husband. I go through the gate and my daughter drops her cup. As she's getting off the stroller, the whole thing topples over. I'm like, nice. So I go through the security totally tired and not looking forward to the flight. I go through the other ticket counter and I'm like, dude, I have confirmed seats together, what happened? He gives me some babble and walks me over to the other counter. The baby is in the stroller screaming his head off. Other passengers to-be were probably like, great, I have to fly with her? But at that point, I couldn't care ANY less. As I open my purse, the zipper breaks. Ugh.

I go through the other gate and they said that they can find seats for us together, but it's not a window seat. I tell them that I have confirmed seats that were supposed to be by the window. This is a 6 hour flight, I'm not going to back down. I'm going to be a bitch here. I have a crying baby with me after all. I say that I'd like to speak to the manager. If I can't get a window seat, I'm going to accept a free travel voucher or whatever, but I'm not going to let them do this to me and my children. The manager comes and he speaks with the representative. He doesn't even talk to me. He goes out walking to the waiting area and speaks to a few people. Great, he was going to make me look bad and persuade others to give up their seats because of me, when I had window seats to begin with. Finally he comes back and tells me that I got window seats together. Mission Accomplished. Kind of.

The plane ride was equally horrible. Daughter slept almost right away and didn't wake up until we were there. Teething, fevering son didn't fare as well. While he did sleep an hour into the flight, he kept waking almost every hour, crying. Loudly. It took about 15 to 20 minutes put him back to sleep. It was a nightmare. The passengers probably thought he was a difficult baby, but they had no clue that he's teething. He's such a sweet and happy baby and it sucked seeing him like that. Then, we arrive in SF. Finally.

I didn't realize that I had to get my own bags. Before, our usual route in Houston, I had to pick up my bags, I knew that. But SF was my final destination, I just didn't realize that I had to pick up my bags inside the terminal, and not outside, where my dad could help. I grab 3 huge bags and put them on the cart thingie. Baby is in the stroller and daughter is walking. I'm pushing a stroller and a cart of 3 bags, plus holding my daughter's hand. Finally someone asked if I needed help. At first I was relunctant, then I said, screw it. Hell yeah, I needed help. He walks me over to where my dad is waiting on the other side. I give him $5.

Next came the 2 hour drive home. Baby was of course crying the whole way. But we reached our destination safe and sound so I can't complain too much.

So Someone Who Works For An Ex-Prez Just Happens To Call You...

Here's the deal. A few weeks ago, we saw a former Honduran president at the gas station pumping his own gas. My husband was like, "Do you know who that is?" I'm like, "No." "He's like, that's former president so and so." I'm like, Hmm ok. So my husband walks over to him and they start talking airport situation. Then after they chat, he and my husband walk over to me sitting in the passenger seat. I'm like, uh oh.

Ok, I'm not impressed just because someone used to be the president. I was just a luncheon the other day with the current president and I didn't go up to him and start chatting it up. That's because I'm very angry with the state of Honduras and I have to blame the syphoning of funds on whoever is in charge. If the government wasn't corrupt, we'd see a lot more change wouldn't we? Case in point, if the United States or another first world nation decides to "take over" Honduras today, I guarantee you that in less than one year, you'd see a lot less poverty, which means less crime, more children seeing the light and wanting to get an education. Yes, the United States is not perfect, but there are checks and balances, there are audits, however Honduras - nada. It just makes me so sad to think of the state of this country and how there is such a seperation between rich and poor.

Anyway, he walks over to me, and as I said, I'm not highly impressed with the sort. After talking to him though, I was like, "shit! He seems like a nice guy! WTF?" I wanted so bad to hate him and be mad and blame him for all the bad things happening to the poor of Honduras, but I couldn't! I want to hate you! I think it was because he had such a warm and likeable personality. Damn you I thought! Why can't I hate you! The dude was pumping his own gas! And my husband says that he's seen him at the airport getting his own bags. Low maintanence people I like.

So we start talking about how to help the people and he tells me that he's set up this educatonal foundation...and that's when my horns started coming out. Education eh? I'm so disappointed with the education here. The teachers aren't getting paid. There are no supplies. Public schools are supposed to be free, yet they have to pay for uniforms and supplies. Ugh, don't get me started. I've heard from my sources that during an inspection there were tons of school books locked up in a warehouse...which means they have not been distributed to the the students. Their reason? There hasn't been an accurate head count of the schools so they could not distribute the books yet. Um, ok.

I'm going away from the point here. So we see him at the gas station and he tells me about this foundation. He starts naming out statistics, one thing I hate. Statistics are one thing, but do you have anything tangible to prove that they are true? Hubby explains that I've been very active with the community and helping anyway I can. Anywho, husband and him exchange phone numbers and I thought he'd never call.

Well he didn't. But the head of his education foundation called my husband's work asking for me. I called her, but not right away. She wasn't in but she would return in 15 minutes they say. Now I'm like...should I call her? Yeah maybe I'll call right now. I need to get active again. I haven't really done anything in the past year, except for my toy drive. We'll see. Here I call.

Wow, No Way

Yes, there are worse things that can happen right now in my life, and I'm very blessed and lucky that for the most part, it's not too bad. But I just came home from work with a shitload of not so good news. My mom and my sister called because I saw their numbers on the caller id. Not good news, I thought, so I called my mom. She and my sister had been arguing. Great, I thought. I've always hated when people in my family fight. It's just not right and it makes me sick to my stomach. I feel horrible for both parties - one for my sister because I know my mom's sickness is really stressing her out, and two I'm worried for my mom because I know that her weak physical and mental state is unable to handle even the mildest of tasks, let alone something this major. I hate it. Then I call my sister but she couldn't talk because she is had midterms but she tells me that dad just got laid off. I'm like wtf? Where did that come from? So I call him and it's true. Now I have a huge headache and I'm stressed the fuck out, but what I can do? And here I am coming this weekend.

Sometimes Things Just Happen Like That

So I was at the 4th of July Celebration and chatting and mingling with some people. The topic of going to California on "vacation" came up and I mentioned that it wasn't all fun and games because I was actually there to visit my sick mom. And one lady said something that totally stuck with me, and for all it's worth, put things in perspective and made me feel slightly better. She said, "ah well, sometimes things just happen like that." Normally, people give me all kinds of sympathy and pretend to know what I am going through, but this was clear and precise. Yes, sometimes things to work out like that.

Lebanese Cooking Class!

Yesterday I pulled a Rachel Ray and taught two cooking classes. I taught a Lebanese Cooking Class to some folks. On the menu was Chicken Shawarma, Rice Pilaf, Hummus, Roasted Eggplant, and three different sauces. I have to say, it was actually really fun, and I hope the students enjoyed themselves. I think the second class of 10 went a lot better than the morning class of 6. I think it's because we were all friends and chatted up a storm, so people were just kinda messing around instead of watching me make my food. I suppose that's ok. Then after that first class, I was incredibly tired. Like passed-out tired. I went to my bed and basically passed out. There were two helpers downstairs, but guess who my daughter wanted to be with???? Just guess? ME of course. So I told her, please oh please let me sleep, as I was already half way there. I gave her two choices, stay with me on the bed and sleep or stay quiet, or go downstairs and play with one of the helpers and play with me when we wake up. She choice the first option, but it ended with, "mom, are you done sleeping yet?" So finally she went downstairs but I heard her not being so nice so I went downstairs. I ended up playing with her, which is of course, what a good mom should do. But I was just so exhausted and out of it.

The second class was much better. People paid attention. I really felt like a teacher and it was great. Then after the cooking, we went downstairs and ate the food, complete with Arabic music. It was pretty cool.

My First Photograph Exhibit

My First Photograph Exhibit

Out of the freaking blue, I found myself being one of 8 "photographers" to have photos in an exhibit. Long story short, but someone heard from someone that I took a few photos, and they were pretty good. So I got a phone call the night of, asking if I'd like to include some of my photos. Seeing how this person was pretty important, and another fairly important person was part it, I figured, hell, why not. Honestly, I didn't want to because I had to get ready to teach my Lebanese Cooking Class a day later. So I hurried up and found some of my better pictures, then I had to find a way to print them. There isn't like a service here in Honduras (that I know of) where I can just upload pictures from my computer to Costco or Target's Photo Center, then pick it up in an hour. So what I did was...with my own photo paper mind you...I printed some photos at work. The quality wasn't the best, mainly because I had inkjet paper and my printer at work was a laser one. But it was ok.

So then I go to the show, and there's one of my pictures in the middle of the room. I kind of felt proud and was glad that I was part of it. My photos, along with others that were more superior, were scattered across the room. It was kind of nice.

Then here's the thing...ok... I truly believe that sometimes the same insecurities, shyness and feelings of always trying to fit in that once plagued you in middle school or high school will always follow you, even into adulthood, where I am now. Case in point, in the middle of the exhibit, the photographers gathered together and took a picture with this really important person <<< by title only. So as they started gathering, I didn't jump in the picture. WTF is wrong with me? I don't know if I was shy, and didn't want to just jump in and say, YUP, I'M COOL, I'M ONE OF THE PHOTOGRAPHERS. I hate star fuckers and I didn't want to be one. Or did I not jump because I was secretly hoping that someone would notice I wasn't in the picture and say, "Portia, get in the picture!" Anyway, whatever happened, I wasn't in this picture. So there.

Here are some of my photos:

Back At It

I'm back to researching online for whatever this illness that has my mom under its grasp. When I was in California in April and May, it was like nonstop researching. Maybe it's this, then a test would confirm it's not. Possibly it's that, then another test would confirm it's not. Or her symptoms would change. So now, I'm looking at Peripheral Neuropathy...a problem with nerves. Cold intolerance was always her main problems. In the beginning she called them chills, because she felt cold she'd say. So the doctors focused on the word "chills" and tested the common sicknesses that cause chills. But perhaps it was cold intolerance that made her have the chills, as opposed to a sickness like dengue or malaria giving her the chills, which was what the doctors originally thought. So I'm doing more and more research, and some of the tests she needs to have done is the EMG (a test I thought she should have had MONTHS ago), nerve conduction test and a nerve biopsy. Knowing my mom, she is not going to want to take those tests, and frankly I don't blame her. What's the deal with the insurance company? It's been almost a month and a half since the Stanford study was supposed to be submitted to the insurance company and still my stepdad has heard nothing yet. We wouldn't have to go to Stanford if the damn medical community where we live was competant and cared enough to actually do more than what it expected of them.

Bring the Funk

Ugh, I'm in that funky icky mood again. Well, don't get me wrong, I've been feeling like that forever, ever since my mom started to get sick, but I've been doing a pretty job hiding it and acting like all is well. But lately, I've just been super dooper tired and I really don't want to do anything but sleep, which is of course impossible with children. I've started to take vitamins again, even though I missed the last two days.

Yeah just the general funky feeling. Feels kinda sucky. I guess I didn't think my mom would still be sick by the summer time. Now I'm stalling making plans for our annual visit to California because of this. Before, I couldn't wait to travel back to see my mom and just enjoy being back home. Now, I'd be ok if I didn't go home. And that feeling hurts. I wish my mom would get better. I wish they knew what was going on. Something, anything.

Ewww, I feel so dirty inside

I love chai latte. So when I found that it was available downstairs at the coffee shop, I bought it. Pretty good, I thought. This morning, I went downstairs again and grabbed another chai latte. Lo and behold I see the lady using an artificially flavored chai latte syrup! I felt all dirty inside. I hate artificial foods and all that flavored crap. There wasn't a gram of real tea in my chai latte. Nasty!

Those Damn Cocktails

When I got home yesterday, I spoke with my mom for about an hour. She seemed ok, not well, but ok, during the conversation. What concerned me were her accounts of past events - the things she did, and the things she didn't do. I'm so worried about her and her safety, and even the safety of my sister. It's hard to explain and maybe I'd rather not, but I'm very worried.

After our conversation, I took a quick shower and went to a function with my husband. Normally, I HATE going to these functions, same people, same shit. But last night I was more talkative (even in Spanish!) and more outgoing! I know there's a psychological term for it. I guess I'm trying to compensate what is going on with my mom with my extroverted behavior.

Mom May Go To Stanford Hospital

After all these diagnostic tests, we not even close to anything resembling a diagnostic. I am completely saddened by this situation. Our only hope is to submit her to Stanford Hospital until they find out what is wrong with her. Obviously, what is going on with her is completely rare. I am hoping Stanford will find something that her doctors here have missed.

I'm still having a hard time dealing with my mom's condition...or lack of a condition I should say. To this day, I act like I'm fine, but I know I'm not. It seems like the more I get back into the swing of things here in Honduras, and the more I do things and enjoy my life, the sadder I get. I always think of my mom and I wonder why this is happening to her. Part of me feels it's not fair that she's in this horrible state, and I'm continuing to live my life. I feel a sense of guilt about it. I want her to enjoy life too, the way she did before she gets sick.

Right now, I'm sort of planning my trip back to the California in the summer, and my God I hate to admit this, but I would be fine if I didn't have to go. Before I couldn't wait until it was California vacation time! Now, I'm like thinking of things to come, and I worry. What if she's not ok before we visit? What if she's worse? I used to look forward to coming home to California, mainly because it was a chance to see my mom again, to talk with her, to laugh, to joke, to just BE with her. Now, I'm worried that it won't be like that at all. Like it will be like my last visit to California, maybe worse. That, like my last visit, I am powerless to help her.

I am just getting sick of people asking about my mom. I know it's not their fault and maybe they do care, but I just can't explain everything. So after a while, I just say, "yeah she's better," and I know it's a complete lie.

Errands, errands, errands...

Miadora is at school. Timmy is playing happily with the babysitter. I've got about 3 1/2 hours to do about 5 or 6 different things on my To-Do List. Let's see how long until Facebook, my newest obsession, takes me away and eats up my time, leaving me with still 5 or 6 different things on my To-Do List. *sets timer*

Dear David Cook

How can I possibly get on my life when you appear in HILARIOUS skits like this? You are such a natural!

Airplane Lands Off Runway in Honduras

I just got a call from my husband and he says that a TACA airplane landed off the runway. He is going there right now to investigate. That's really scary. So far, the only thing I can find online is this:

AP NewsAlert
9 minutes ago
TEGUCIGALPA, Honduras (AP) — Radio reports say a Grupo Taca airplane overruns runway in Honduras, some injured

I'm on Facebook...now I feel all weird...

I'm not sure why I just did what I did, but I added myself on Facebook. I thought it was enough that I had a blog, plus a myspace, but I had some friends that were on Facebook so I figured, what the heck. So I signed up. There was a feature in which it takes my googlemail address book and finds which ones have a facebook. And unbelievably there were 41 people who had facebook profiles just from my address book alone. And it was the people I least expected! Now, here's the weird part. Some are from work - again, people I'd never expect - but do I want the work people to be my friends on facebook or should I keep some of them seperate? It's enough that I see many of them on a daily basis, but to see their profiles too? There are some things I don't want them to know about me too... like my trampoline collection on the third floor.