Wednesday, July 30, 2008

Doctors and Fairy Dust

The only thing worse than going to the doctor is going to the doctor in a foreign country. Ok, not really... but it's pretty gruesome. The other morning, I had a doctor's appointment, and I couldn't help but laugh, the whole experience being so typical German.*

First of all, a little old man and a little old lady (complete strangers) got into a fight in the waiting room, which was completely ridiculous. Maybe if we were a little more polite (or chivalrous, perhaps?), such public arguments wouldn't be so common.

Then, after my appointment, as I was putting my shirt back on, the doctor rushed out and left the door wide open, allowing everyone in the waiting room to watch me change my clothes. Yes, I had a spaghetti-strapped-under-shirt on, but still. What about that little thing called privacy?

*shrugs her shoulders*

So I've had a slight "issue" for the past year or so, and I've been to the doctor here three times, and nothing he's suggested or prescribed is working. I think he's prescribing me sugar placebo pills. Or fairy dust. Or dragon tears. And nothing is happening. Which is why my Mom made me an appointment in August (when I'll be home) with a, em, real doctor.


*sorry, to my Dear German Readers... but that's just the way it is. :)

Tuesday, July 22, 2008

Hats are the new Cool

And pale is the new tan. I think Mariposa and I are going to start a new trend. Take that, Cosmopolitan. One month and we'll be on the cover.


I hope Mariposa doesn't kill me for posting this.

Monday, July 14, 2008

No.

Slowly but surely, I'm learning the art of saying "no." When someone asks me to do something, it's extremely difficult for me not to just drop everything and immediately help, whatever form of help that might be, and however inconvenient it might be for me. But I'm learning that it's impossible to make everyone happy, and that I can't do everything for everyone, and that I'm not responsible for solving everyone's problems. I'd love to be able to do that, but it's simply not possible. Thus the infamous "no."

Yup.

Thursday, July 10, 2008

Indeed.

Disconnected indeed. As of yesterday, I have internet again... why? Because I *ahem* forgot to pay my telephone and internet bill. Which isn't that impressive given the fact that (1) I work in the Finance Department and (2) I'm the church accountant. Things like that make me wonder what else I've "verpennt."

Naja.

On the positive side, I've finished reading Reaching for the Invisible God by Yancey (recommended by a friend), which has helped me sort through some crap and has shed new light on a few Issues. Things are starting to make sense... that is, they're actually not making sense... I'm just learning for the Nth time that I can't understand everything and that I'm not God. How much longer is it going to take before I get it?

I've been feeling antsy lately, like something needs to change. That's dangerous. In the past, that feeling has led to changing schools, moving to foreign countries, or taking chocolate out of my diet.

Yancey wrote that Truth is extreme. It's neither "in the middle" nor at one extreme... it's BOTH extremes. At the same time. That's kind of how my life is at the moment. One moment I feel extremely happy, like I could conquer the world, but the next moment I want to drive my car into oncoming traffic. One moment I feel loved and understood (it's a weird feeling), but the next moment I think it's impossible for anyone to love or understand me. One moment I want to help everyone, be there for everyone, but the next moment I have to be alone. It's like internal manic episodes.

A friend celebrated her Birthday last Tuesday, which was fun. (I'm glad you decided to do something after all!) :) It was both weird and nice being in a group of girls my own age. I only have a couple girl friends my own age (though one is 3 years younger).

Last night was hilarious - I haven't laughed that hard in a long time. Two friends were in Denmark on the Logos Hope for a couple of weeks, and they got back last night. And they brought a guy from Sri Lanka with them. Talk about butchered-ship-slang-English. I about died laughing.

The doorbell rang last night at about 20:30

Mary: "Who's there?"
Unknown Person: "Will you go to Denmark with us?"
Mary: "Of course!!"
Person: "Ok, let's go."
Mary: "I'm in my PJs, let me put some jeans on first."
Person: "So are you going to let us in the building, or should we wait outside?"
Mary: "Is it raining?"
Person: "Yeah."
*runs downstairs*
Mary: "I missed you."
Person: "I know."
Mary: "So when are we leaving?"
Person: "Can I have something to eat first?"
Mary: "Raspberry-blackberry yogurt?"


I have the weirdest conversations. But I think a few of us are going to drive to Denmark next Sunday... the Sri Lankan dude has to get back somehow, and now we have an excuse to make another roadtrip. :)

I've figured out why I'm so passive sometimes: because I hate making mistakes and hate hurting people. I'd rather do nothing than do the wrong thing. Though doing nothing is itself sometimes the wrong decision. Double jeopardy! Sometimes I can't do anything right.

The world is good. The world is fallen. The world can be redeemed. Life is kind of the same way, I think. Ah, the dichotomy of it all.

Wednesday, July 02, 2008

Disconnected?

So... I'm kind of freaking out because my phone isn't working and I wanted to call my Dad. I'm definitely unable to make phone calls, and I'm afraid that I'm also unable to receive calls. Strangely enough, the internet is working, meaning they haven't totally disconnected me.

Ok. I admit I pay my bills late almost every month... but do I really deserve this?

I just want to talk with my Dad! Nothing more, nothing less. :(

One possibility would be to run up the church phone bill by making international calls... I am the church accountant after all... so I could calculate a monthly average and then pay the difference in July. Desperate times call for desperate measures. :)

Anyway. Those who might try to reach me via the land line (Festnetz), you can forget it for the moment.