30 Days 30 Random Facts About Me

Day 4: I crashed my truck... Because I was praying.

 I was 19 when I had my first and (knock on wood) only crash.
It all happened so fast. It took me several weeks to remember all of what happened, because at first all I could remember was driving down the road, and then shouting "Oh no, oh no, oh no, aaah!" then slamming into a hill.

But now I remember all the details, and it's quite funny.

It was a Wednesday, on April 22, 2010 and I got out of class early, so I decided to do my absolute favorite hobby; I went on a joy ride in my truck. I went through my home town of Molalla, and followed a long country road, Sawtell. I had a point on the road where I normally turned around, because the road turned to dirt.
On this day I decided to keep going to see where the road led to. I followed it for quite a while before I notice I only had a quarter tank of gas left. I thought about turning around, but then I pulled out my gps (the one that had a death wish towards me). It said if I followed the road for 7 more miles, I would reach a gas station. So I decided to keep going.

It was April, it was warm, so I was very surprised when I started seeing snow on the sides of the road. Something told me this was a bad sign and I should turn around. I stopped, and grabbed some snow to laugh that I was in snow on a warm day. Then I ignored my instinct and kept driving.

The snow started covering the ground, but I figured with the gas now just 5 miles away, I must be nearing the end of the snow. Then in an instant, the truck hit a huge pile of snow. I was stuck.

I tried to reverse and the wheels just spun in the snow. I tried going forward, same thing. I got out and tried pushing the truck backward, and I slipped and fell on the ground. I got back in my truck, stared at the gas gauge and said out loud, "Oh crap."

It had been at least 10 miles since I had seen the last house, it was getting late, and I knew the sun would set soon. I had no cell service and I was afraid, "What if I walk to a house and a psycho answers and holds me captive? What if an animal attacks me along the way? What if something happens to me, and my family will never know where I went?"

I felt I was in big, big trouble. Just then I thought that I needed to pray. So I did. I asked God to move the truck so that I could get back down the road. I remember being able to feel the nerves all over my body, cause I was that nervous. But just as I prayed, the truck literally scooted back a foot on its own and I was able to get out of the snow.

My adrenaline was still rushing and I was in a hurry, because all I wanted was to be in the safety of my home. When I finally got back to an area of the road I recognized, I let out a big sigh of relief.

I looked up at the sky and said, "Thank you Jesus!"

When I looked back at the road, I discovered I was just about to reach a sharp turn. I slammed on my brakes, but wasn't slowing down fast enough. In my panic, my tires went off the road into gravel, and the truck spun in a circle.

I saw a field in the distance, and a massive cliff right in front of me, and I was screaming at the top of my lungs, because I thought I was about to go off the cliff. But as my truck spun out of control, it swerved to the other side of the road, and I slammed into the side of the hill.

I was dizzy and confused at first. Then I thought I needed to call someone. I couldn't find my phone. I had it in my cup holder and while I was out of control, it had flown across the truck and hid itself somewhere.

Where my step dad hammered the front

Just then a truck carrying a bunch of young men came up the hill, and drove right past me, all pointing and laughing at me as they went. This is when I broke out in crying.
A few minutes later, a man and his granddaughter came and stopped to help me.
It all ended well. The front fender and grill were knocked off, and part of the front was smashed in, but my step dad hammered the front back out, and duct tapped the fender and grill back on, and I was driving the truck again 2 weeks later.

30 Days 30 Random Facts About Me

Day 3: Got an A in PE because running is against my religion

Sarcasm is a major part of who I am. I tell people, English is not my native language, sarcasm is. My sarcastic and playful personality is what introduced me to some of my best friends, but my sarcasm has also gotten me in some of my deepest trouble.

My usual pissed off self

There was, though, one time my sarcastic remark had an epically awesome outcome. 

In 8th grade I had a bad life, a bad attitude, and bad grades. My progress reports and report cards were all C's and D's. That was the norm for my grades starting in 6th grade and lasting to the end of 8th grade. But if you were to ever look at my 8th grade report card, there is one surprising mark on it.

PE, the subject I have never liked, had an A. Most would figure this is because physical education is an easy A. Normally this would be true, but for me it was a little different.

This year I had a teacher who had a reputation for being gullible, and very clumsy. If I had known she would fall for it, I would have done it sooner, but the real story, I was very honestly just trying to be funny while in an especially sarcastic mood.

The teacher told us to run 5 laps around the gym. I raised my hand and approached her with a look of deep concern and said, "I can't do that. Running is against my religion. In fact, it's one of the worst sins there are!" 

I smirked figuring she was just about to yell at me to knock it off and get back in line to run. But to my surprise, she gasped and covered her mouth, "I'm sorry, I didn't know! Is jogging ok?"

I was impressed, I thought she was responding to me with the same tone of sarcasm. I was not used to adults going along with my jokes. I answered, "In my religion, we believe that running makes you miss all the beauty and even warnings of what's to come. The slower you walk the better. It's frowned upon to do anything in a rush, but it's sinful to go too fast."

She then told me that I could walk as slow as I needed to. So while the rest of the class ran around me, I strolled along with a smile of victory, even if it was only going to last one day.

To my surprise, when we had class again, the teacher had the class run again, and reminded me that I could walk. This lasted the entire semester.

I was uneasy about it. I didn't know if she was still just being sarcastic, and was going to fail me because I wasn't running. But I tried to tell myself that it wouldn't matter if she gave me a bad grade, because it would match all my other classes.

The end of the semester, I read through my report card. "C, C, C, D, D, D, A??!" I couldn't believe I had an A. it was the first I'd had since 3rd grade. That was the glorious moment of truth, when I realized she really wasn't being sarcastic, and was fine with me walking and doing everything slowly, because she didn't want me to sin in my religion. 

Needless to say, the next semester, I milked it out for all it was worth, and was as lazy as humanly possible, and blamed it all on my religion. That next semester ended with an A as well.

8th grade graduation, 2 months before I became a Christian, and the first time in years that I tried to look nice.

30 Days 30 Random Facts About Me

Day 2: I've been banned by the Red Cross.

In high school I greatly looked forward to turning 18 and being able to donate blood. It was an exciting concept to me, my blood running through some one else's veins to keep them alive.

I was very pleased when I discovered my community college was a big advocate of blood drives. They had one every time the time limit to donate again was up.

It was at CCC that I donated for the first time. Everything seemed to go well, but at the end the nurse mentioned, "It was a little rough getting it to stop bleeding. No worries though, you'll just have some bruises from it."

By "bruises" I imagined I might get a little purple around the area the needle went in. Instead by the next evening , I was black and blue all over my arm, from shoulder to wrist. It was kinda scary, but mostly very, very.....very embarrassing.

When I went to the store later that week, the store clerk slipped a battered women's hotline card in my cash back. People everywhere stopped to gawk and ask, "Woah, what happened?"

My heart beat got off rhythm too. It would be beating normal, and then seemed to skip two beats, and then beat super fast until it calmed to a normal rate again. It felt like I had gas in my chest when it happened.

Time went by, and I shrugged it off as just a freak thing that happened. By the next blood drive, I was excited to sign up again.

Things seemed to go a little better the 2nd time. They did fine finding a vein, and removing the needle from the vein. It all seemed very well, until I went to leave. Yep, I fainted.

One moment I was smiling and proudly walking away, the next moment I was lying on the floor with 10 people surrounding me all asking if I was ok. I insisted I was fine and just a little dizzy, as I tried to pull myself up to stand again. I was halfway up, when I found myself waking up on the floor again. They made me stay there laying in the chair for 2 hours.

It scared me enough that I waited a year before working up the nerve to try donating again. Third time's a charm ya know!
This time, they had trouble finding a vein, but got it in and the blood started flowing, and flowing, and flowing and flowing. The nurse called a supervisor, and it kept flowing. I didn't really pick up that anything was wrong, until the supervisor said, "I think we need to call a paramedic."

They couldn't get me to stop bleeding!

They told me to stay calm, when I was actually more calm then they were. Just when the supervisor said she was going to get help, the nurse exclaimed, "It's stopped!"

Again I had to lay there for an hour and a half. Then three weeks later, I got this lovely letter in the mail.

The letter went on to say that due to complications, the Red Cross felt it was unsafe for me to participate in future blood drives.

30 Days, 30 Random Facts About Me

As I return home from an evening jog, an idea popped in my head, that I thought would be fun to do. So for the next 30 days, each day I will share a random fact about me.

Day 1: I was once a military security breech.

Crazy huh? The swarmed my car with guns and everything. They laughed when I told them I was a new 17 year old driver, going out of state on my own for the first time, but they weren't laughing at first.
It all started when I was in possession of a gps I am to this day convinced had a death wish towards me.  It would tell me to turn right onto a railroad sometimes, but those sometimes always only happened when a train was approaching. Or it would tell me to turn left on a right only street.

I was headed home from Seattle, Washington. It was an 6 hour drive back to my home in Oregon. I had my driver's license for 6 months and it was my first time driving out of state, or anywhere long distance for that matter.

I needed to stop to use the restroom. I got off the interstate and went to a McDonald's. When I went to get back on the interstate, I took a wrong turn. I thought about turning around, but my gps recalculated and told me to keep going straight for 6 miles.
I listened and I followed the directions. It took a very long time and some bizarre turns, when I started seeing signs for Fort Lewis. I was wondering why I was getting closer to it, instead of closer to the interstate.

Quickly enough, I hit the entrance of the fort. That's when I saw the gps instructed me to drive through the base. I assumed, "Oh, it must be ok for civilians to drive through."

A man in uniform stood aside of the entrance, and waved his hand side to side. I thought he was gesturing for me to come in. Turns out he was gesturing no entrance, because the base was closed for the day for security training. The training was on intrusions.

I put my foot on the gas, and went forward faster than I would recommend. He waved his hands in the air and shouted, "Stop! Stop!" and he smacked his hand fast on the back of my truck.

I slammed on the brakes, and instantaneously there were military men with guns surrounding me.
He ordered very sternly for me to step out of the truck with my hands in the air. I did, then he asked why I was not in uniform.
I stumbled over my words, with my hands still in the air, and tried the best I could to explain I was following my gps, I was not in the military, and I had just taken a wrong turn.
He asked for my ID. Then saw I was only 17. That's when he asked me if I was really not part of the drill.
"No sir!" I answered while trying my best not to cry.

He replied, "Well, you could not have picked a worse day to make this wrong turn. Did you read the signs? The fort is closed for the day young lady! And we thought you were the scheduled security breech with a car packed with explosives."

"No sir, I am not an actor, and I don't have any explosives. I'm sorry sir, I've never driven out of state on my own before!"

The cool part of the trip was getting to see my grandpa and family.

I also got a free hug that trip

OKC

Me standing at the spot the bomb was left.

The Child Welfare department of Oklahoma has a program with all the big universities, where they select a few social work students and pay $7000 per semester for their Junior and Senior years, if the student agrees work for the department for 18 months afterwards.
I am really hoping to be one of the chosen few.
Today was the first step of the application process, where all hopefuls had to meet in Oklahoma City for a seminar on the in's and out's of child welfare work.
ORU took a van full.
On the way back to campus, we stopped at the Oklahoma City Bombing Memorial.

The memorial has chairs with the name of each victim in the perspective spot they would have been when killed. The trees outline the walls of the building.

Thousands of children sent in art as condolences to the families.They transferred the art onto a wall as a thank you to all the children for showing their support.

Syria and college aged ignorance

I have always rolled my eyes at anti- war protests. I saw it as the hippie straggly haired people who don't have jobs and don't believe in deodorant, as anti war protesters. And I seriously never would have imagined myself getting so fired up about a potential war.

However, I am finding myself more and more emotionally charged by everything that's happening.

In the age of information, I am finding my fellow college students are mostly down-right clueless. I think that is what is bugging me the most.
We seem to think as a generation, that someone else is taking care of the problem, and that everything is alright. 
I was standing in my college deli today, looking up a a tv screen with Fox News on which had in big captions "US Warships arrive on coast of Syria".
As I stood focusing on the screen, a girl approached and asked me, "What happened? Are they the ones that bombed the marathon?"
I answered, "No! They haven't done anything to us."
"Why?" she then asked, "Why are we fighting them? Are they a threat to us?"
Again I answered, "No! The only time they will be a threat to us is if we DO fight them. China and Russia have already sent ships saying they will strike back if we decide to do anything."
The girl shrugged as she walked away, "I'm sure Obama knows what he is doing."

Our president is on the verge of sparking World War 3 and that doesn't matter?!
In class right after that, a teacher casually mentioned, "And we think our economy is bad now, just wait until after this new war starts."
A male student raised his hand and asked, "What war? Are we going to fight Pakistan?"
The teacher explained a little bit of the situation, and then the male student again spoke up, "Hmm, that doesn't make sense why America is getting involved."
The class then went back to focusing on psychology.
Where is the passion, where are the protesters, and where is the public interest?!
Any other day in age, people would have been even more fired up about this than I am.

I have always been one who liked originality and uniquness. Where others liked to think outside the box, for me there was no box. I like things different, and bizarre. Many people tried to squash that trait in me as a child, and said that it meant there was something wrong with me, if I didn't follow along with the consensus.

Many of my peers were drugged to stay in line, told they had ADD or ADHD, or in many cases both! The side effects of the drugs caused depression, for which they were handed another pill and forced to swallow. In some cases that caused stuttering and twitches, which there was ANOTHER pill for! Other peers grew up being told to shut up and follow the rules, no matter if they agreed with the rules or not. If they disagreed with something, they were punished and labeled defiant.

What I see now, is a generation that just goes along with what ever they are told to do. Even when it could mean the utter devastation of our planet. Young adults are very uninterested in the injustices of the world. Just look how quickly people stopped talking about the Sandy Hook massacre compared to Columbine. 6 months vs. 6 years.

Why am I complaining about all of this?

Syria is in the midst of an ugly civil war.That's a fact. But that's about the only fact we have. Chemical gases were used to kill hundreds of people. Churches and Mosques seem to be a priority target. But both sides are killing each other in heinous ways. It's not one side massacring the other side.
We've got a bad leader ordering the murders of civilians, and international jihadist Al Qaeda militants fighting back. It's a lose lose situation. But none the less, it's a situation that the United States has no business in.

What are the risks of not involving ourselves? 1. History shaming us and saying we should have done something.
What are the risks of getting involved? 1. Killing innocent people. 2. Al Qaeda targeting America for another 9/11. 3. Our already wrecked economy being completely destroyed. 3. China sanctions and or take over of the USA for our trillions owed to them. 4. Nukes being fired off by USA, UK, Russia, Iran, and China. 5. History shaming us for getting involved.

All in all, several nations have vowed retaliation. We are very much on the brink of a world war, and no one seems to care.
So I want to say.........WAKE UP AMERICA!!!!!!!

Btw, I never thought I would ever in my life say this, but, this Saturday I will be going to my first ever protest.

All about the new job!

New research is showing amazing things about the human mind. Specifically, the mind of abused children.

This photo shows the difference between the brain of a child with a healthy home, and the brain of a child living in severely neglectful home.
The neglected child has a significantly smaller brain, but also has many other irregularities.
Modern child psychology has theorized that abused children typically grow up to be abusive because they were taught to be that way.
But recently people have been looking further in to the possibility that something else causes it. Many times after a child has had a fit of rage, they will say, "I don't know why I do it, it just comes and I cannot control it." Some have started to look into the possibility that they really don't have control over it. Not because of what they were taught, but more because of what they were not taught.
What they have been finding is that it might very likely be the case. Abused and neglected children's brains are actually wired differently.
Through the process of  child development, the brain goes through "pruning" where it stops connecting to parts that are not being used, and it makes connections stronger with the parts used most.
What has been found, is that abused and neglected children are not different, but they use a different part of their brain. Because all they knew was fear and survival skills, the parts of their brain that process love and creativity  and reasoning skills disconnect.
Kids literally forget how to love and relax. As creativity and love weaken in the brain, violence and fear grow stronger.
With this new theory, experts began to wonder, if the key to helping child abuse survivors, is not in teaching them to not be fearful and aggressive, but instead focusing on teaching them to use the portions of their brains that shut off during the abuse. A new therapy was formulated to try new approaches to develop healthy minds. For example, instead of telling them they cannot do something, just tell them the alternative things they can do, and then gradually they learn to figure out alternatives on their own. "You cannot hit people when you are angry" vs. "When you are angry, how about you try coloring or listening to music or running?"

It's called Dyadic Developmental Psychotherapy

That's where places like my new job were formed. They are now fully functioning organizations treating survivors of extreme trauma and neglect, with the new approach, and the results have been phenomenal.

Even when I was a little girl, I felt there was something very wrong with people saying, "I have to go to work" I do not think work is something that should be just for money. Work should be making enough money to support your life, while you do something you love. I once worked a job with mentally disabled and mentally ill people, and I loved it! Sometimes they would call to see if I could work an extra shift, and I would answer with an over excited, "Yes!"
When I came to Tulsa, I was working a job that was just for the money. I longed to get back to the kind of job I liked going to.
My roommate over the summer was the person who told me to check out if they were hiring. When I looked I did not see any openings that I qualified for.

That same day I got onto a job finder websites email list, and the next morning they emailed me that the organization was hiring with a position that did not require a degree, just prior experience in social work and mental illness. I had both.

I applied that day, and a week later I got a call for an interview. I wanted the job so badly, that I was extremely nervous the night before. I posted all sorts of outfit pictures on facebook, trying to get advice on the perfect outfit.

I had planned to use a friend's car to drive that morning, but they slept through their alarm and through my calls. So I ended up frantically pedaling my bike to the interview, making it with 4 minutes to spare and completely out of breath. I was scared that it was all over from the start because of my unconventional entrance.

As the interviewer told me more about the organization, and more about my potential role in the organization, I realized that I was literally applying for my dream job. I would be leading group and play therapy, mentoring, and caring for children, while watching them transform and overcome their tragic pasts.

I pedaled back home from the interview and knew if I got the job, biking was definitely not an option being I applied for a night shift in a shady neighborhood.
When I got home, I had an email with a job offer. Full time, Friday through Monday, starting pay $10 with 1.75 additional for night and weekend hours(which is all I will be working).
That was on Friday, and Sunday night I got a nice car for $900 of craigslist.

Oldsmobile Olga and I had some quality bonding time that Thursday when I went to meet a friend in Arkansas

A week later I started a week long training. This last Saturday was my first day working with the kids. There was a lot of training on what to do when a child is hurting them self, and how to protect yourself if a child is attacking you.
When I spent my first three days with the kids, I could see why we had all that training. The kids have a lot of issues...but I've seen some of the kids who have been there a long while and how far they have come.

Can you tell how excited I was on my first day?

Employment Rollercoaster

I debate on where to start on this story. Should I start by telling you about my new job? Or maybe I should start back when I was given a raise at my old job. Maybe I should start where it all went badly. Well I guess I will start where it all started...My first day of work at my old job.

I swore I would never work at a retirement home again after I quit the one in Oregon. In fact I said I would never work in the food industry again because it was so terrible.
I came to Oklahoma with $2500, but by February that money was gone, and I knew I needed to get a job. I was scared when I discovered not even Walmart was hiring. I put in several applications and heard nothing back from anything.

Then one day I vented to a friend, my concerns that it may be a long while before I find a job, and that I had no money left. That was when she told me her work was always hiring. She asked if I wanted her to bring me an application, and I said overly excited...Yes!
It wasn't until after that, that I thought to actually ask where she works. To my dismay she replied, "Food service in a retirement home." I could not believe it, after I swore never again....the first and only place I got a call for an interview at, was the same exact job I had said I would never go back to.
I was hired on the spot, and paid well above Oklahoma minimum wage, so I told myself to toughen up and do it.

My first week of work, a man who washed dishes there, approached and asked me if we could go out some time. I told him not now, because I did not even know him. He asked me to ask around about him, and then give him an answer(he had to come back later to ask me my name). What I found out about him was concerning to say the least.

I told him he was not the kind of guy I was interested in having a relationship with. He answered me, "I wasn't looking for a relationship. I just wanted to f*** you now and then."

I started to be alarmed as to what kind of people worked at my new job after that. But before I had much time to figure it out...I was headed off for a month in Africa.

I returned to America and returned to work at the retirement home, full of bliss and rejuvenation, but with in a month things started to go badly again at work.

Two more times men asked me if we could sleep together. I got woo's in hallways, and was uncomfortable being alone anywhere, because some guy would come and say inappropriate things.

Then on the first of August, the head manager called me into his office. He told me I was one of the best staff, and in my few months of employment I had surpassed many who had been there much longer. That day he gave me a pay raise.

3 days later a fourth male worker grabbed me and made gestures. Again I made a complaint about it, but this time I also told the management I was fed up and was done working in a place where I was constantly afraid of being touched or talked to in sexual manners. I told them I was quitting.

During this time, I was in summer school, and had an incredible roommate, named Joy. Joy and I had many great late night conversations, and I had told her all the frustrations I had at work. Before I had quit, she told me she had a friend who had just become a social worker, and Joy said she would ask them about any recommendations of where I might be able to get a job at.

Joy cheered for me when I finally told them I was fed up and quit. That same day she got back to me with four organizations names, from her friend, that I might be able to get a job at.

I looked up all four websites, and none had openings for people with less than a bachelor's degree. I was disappointed. After that, I figured the first thing I needed to do was work on my resume. I joined a website that helped make resumes.
I groaned when I opened my email and discovered I had made it on to their mailing list. They sent me 10 emails in one day of bunches of job openings in other states, or that did not apply to me at all.
But then the next morning I woke up and opened my email(yes, I was still laying in bed). Again they had emailed me, but this time it was with the name of one of the 4 organizations Joy had told me about.
I sat up and squealed when I read the job description and requirements. It fit me and my interests perfectly!
I applied for the job right then.
A week later I got a call for an interview, interviewed that week, and had an email by the time I got home, with a job offer.
It is a full time, weekend job, working with abused and traumatized children.
I felt just getting the job was a cool story, but it's long...so I will save another entry for telling you about the actual job......it's super awesome.

My first time cooking grits

Grits are a classic southern traditional meal. Every kid grows up with momma's good grits.
I however, did not have this experience in my northwestern childhood.
I stayed with a friend in McKinney, Texas just before going to my cousin's in Dallas for Thanksgiving this past year. The next morning her parents asked if I wanted eggs or grits for breakfast. I said eggs, and that I had not cared for the only other time I had eaten grits.

My friend's dad (who is African American) pipped up, "Honey, you are eating grits this morning! You have never had good grits unless you have had a true southern black man's grits."

He made it, and he was right...I LOVED it!
It reminded me of a higher quality cream of wheat, which is my all time favorite cereal.

Today I went to a new Whole Foods store in Tulsa, and I was hoping to buy in bulk, some cream of wheat. There was none at the store but they did have grits for $1.19 per pound.
I thought of the time in McKinney, and I thought grits would be similar to make. So I bought 3 pounds.

This evening as I got hungry, I decided to cook some grits. I approached it as if it were cream of wheat. I added about 2 cups of grits, and about 2.5 cups of boiling hot water, then I stuck it in the microwave for 2 minutes.
I blew on it then took a bite, and nearly choked on the grains. It was no where near done.
That's when I knew it would be best if I look up cooking directions online. Boy was I in for a shock!

Recommended 5 cups of water for 1 cup of grits, and cook at a simmer on the stove for 40-50 minutes.
I groaned at the directions, realizing I may have just gotten myself into some big trouble.

So I added a whole bunch more water, then stuck in in the microwave for 5 minutes. During that time I had a hunch this was about to become a funny story. So now I am documenting it.

7:35 Add several more cups of water.set microwave for 5 minutes

7:40 Stir and let it cool for 5 minutes.
7:45 Take a small bite. Still feels like swallowing dry sand. Add more water, set microwave for another 5 minutes

7:50 Stir and let cool for 5 minutes
7:55 Still sandy. 5 more minutes

8:05 Crunchy and dough like. Add more water, and 5 more minutes in microwave.

8:13 A lot softer, but still not pleasant. Very dough like. Add more water. Grits now about to over flow.
8:15 Get 2nd container to hold grits. Add even more water. Microwave 5 more minutes. 

8:20 Too hot!!! Put in freezer for 5 minutes.

8:30 Puuuuurfect. But way more food than I planned on making, for this "quick dinner" ha ha.

Miss Vickie

Miss Vickie is one of those personalities that even if you only have a 5 minute encounter with her in your entire life, you don't ever really forget her. She's lovable, and sweet, with a real southern style way. She is born and raised in Tulsa, and has an adorable "suthun drawl".

She is quick witted and hilarious. So many times she has made me gasp with laughter at an unexpected sarcastic remark, but she does it in such a way that no one ever has their feeling hurt around her.
My favorite kind of personality, is the one who can fill the room with laughter, with out teasing any particular individual to do so. And that's what Miss Vicky is.

She is a tiny little lady, standing at only about 4 foot 6 inches.

I met Vickie at my job, she has been working there for 3 years. One day I found out something interesting and kind of shocking about her. She is over 50 years old, and has never been on a date.

I asked her if that was by choice, as some women decide to stay single, and she said no, just that no man has ever asked her out. Again I was shocked, because of how much every person that meets her loves her.

I asked her if she would ever try online dating. She told me, "Well, I gots dis one of them cumpooders thingys up in my home. But I has had it fer tree yers with never ternin' it on."

Again she made me laugh out loud, when she told me that a cable repair guy had been out to her house, and while fixing her cable, he checked to see if the internet was working right. Vickie said he told her that she needed to leave the computer on for a while, because it hadn't been used in so long, it needed time to install updates.
Vickie said she was embarrassed to tell him, because he was so attractive, that she didn't know how to turn the computer off on her own. Several days later she paid one of her nephews to come over just to turn it off.

Growing up with a computer genius in the family, I have always lived in the shadows of my brother in the technology department. I don't know squat! And I didn't realize just how little I knew, until I moved away and didn't have him there to fix everything for me.

I have been going over to Miss Vickie's house to help her figure out how to use her computer, and it's made me feel oh ever so smart.
She didn't even know how to turn it on. When I told her, "Here, you just press this button." She was shocked, "You mean that's it?!" The second thing I showed was how to turn it off.

"You just move your little pointer thing over here to where it says, `Shut Down', then click it."

When the computer was off she laughed, "Tree yers I hasn'ts used dis, all cause I didn't know to press a button?!"

And her reaction to being introduced to Google was the best! She couldn't believe there was some thing that existed, that had all the answers. "Ooh ooh," she would exclaim, "What's a good price for a Hyundai? What date did Ronald Regan when he died? What was the name of Louis Armstrong's first wife? Oh my gosh, it can give driving directions too? Whaaat! It even knows directions if you only know the name of the place!"

I just can't wait until I introduce her to facebook, and show her what her childhood crush looks like now!

Travel Day 1 Part 2 (finally)

5/15 We had stopped for lunch that day, where we met with Pastor Fredrick's wife and family at an americanized restaurant. We got back in the van after lunch, and planned to continue driving for several more hours. But we actually only made it about 30 minutes. The van kept not being able to switch gears, and we were about to head up into very mountainous terrain. Pastor Israel did not want to make the trek with any kind of vehicle trouble.

Pastor Israel got off the main road, and was going to take the van to a friend in the area to help fix the problem. But as he made the turn on the dusty dirt road, the gear shift got stuck in neutral, and the van would not move.
Pastor Israel looked at Pastor Fredrick and smiled as he said, "My brothas and sistas, this is a God ordained car problem. Pastor, maybe now you take them to the place we had decided to skip this year."

Pastor Israel stayed in the van and talked on a cell phone, while Pastor Israel led us a few hundred feet walking down the road and told us that for the past 6 years of ORU teams, they all were taken to this place, but they had decided this year there was not time to go. Both pastors realized it must have been a God thing, that the van stopped working right outside next to the place they were planning to skip.

There was a sign that read, "Bible College". Several years ago, an ORU graduate named Tim Way, whom we'd already met back in the States, went to Uganda with the dream of starting a bible college. It took him many years of hardship, but it was now up and running with big names like Joyce Meyer, and Marilyn Hickey, coming at times to teach lessons.

 Pastor Israel and Fredrick were both graduates.

And come to find out, it was very much a God thing.
Isaiah and Chris both have dreams of long term work in Uganda. Isaiah want to be a missionary preacher, and Chris wants to open an elite boarding school for orphans.

During our visit, Isaiah talked to some of the teachers and higher management, that gave him contact info for how he could come teach at the college when he feels ready to.

 Chris was told about a man to talk to, whom we would stay with later in the trip, who owned a large piece of property that he was hoping to build an orphanage on. They said that man would really be helpful to launch both his and Chris' dream.

A some what late...Update

Life has been crazy busy, being back in the swing of things as an American college student.

I celebrated the 4th of July with friends, and went to a superb firework show at night.

 I've taken some big steps in getting things in order to ready my book for publishing. Very excited about that.

Summer school is half way through, and it's crazy to think that in just one month summer will be over! The heat is insane here in Oklahoma.

I've been discovering all the wonderful bike and nature trails Tulsa Parks has to offer.

I truly do intend to get back to blogging daily-ish. I will have more posts starting tommorrow!

I will share one funny Uganda tid bit for right now.

One of my friends asked me how the bug population was in Uganda. I did my best to describe it to her. Later on I showed her a photo and asked her to guess what it was. She said, "Oh, pretty sunset."

I corrected her, "No, that a light bulb."