But why?

I'm sure many of you are thinking, "Why in the hell are you sharing these things? These are things that should take place in private conversations with your closest friends!" Maybe. But maybe not. Maybe someone else will be helped by these very public admissions. Whether they have OCD, anxiety, depression or just struggle to live their full, authentic life, maybe this will help them.

Regardless, it's helping me. There is power in vulnerability. I didn't know that until recently. But the more of myself I bare, the stronger I feel. If people don't like it, or want to avoid these things, that's a-ok with me. But it's not ok with me to continue keeping all these things to myself. They've lived in shameful dark places inside me for a very long time. And I've had enough of that. I've spent the past three years in therapy working my ass off to be able to share these things. So here I am.

In addition to the above, it's also easier for me to write than to speak. Particularly to people's faces. I have pretty intense social anxiety. And I'm an intense introvert. Which is often confusing to people. They always say "HA! No way are you an introvert. You're always the life of the party! You're a professor!" Those are sorta true statements. But until recently I've never had anyone know me well enough to know that the life of the party persona is a total farce. My best friend said something to me like "You transform into this different person in groups. It's weird. It's like I don't know you when there are more people than just me and you." (She said it much kinder and flowery, because that's who she is, but I'm not so flowery so that's my paraphrasing). She was really the first one to a) notice and b) comment and c) ask me to explain. Not in a judgy way. But in a curious way. She asked me to put words and thoughts into a behavior I'd been performing my whole life. Damn her :) And thank her. I love her. She continues to inspire and push me. So I thought about it. Consciously. For the first time ever. Named it. Described it. And only then did things start to feel any better. Not great, but better.

People make me anxious. All people. I can get used to people, duh, I have friends. But I actually have very few close friends who know "the real me." Lots of people think they know me. And they do. They just know a very small slice of me. Very few, lucky, determined souls get to see all of me (and even then, it's like pulling back the layers of an onion. There's lots to unravel and reveal). So I get a lot of practice with acting and presentation. Who I am in public is a very carefully crafted version of me. It's fucking exhausting. People who get to see me in sweatpants, crazy morning hair or nearly comatose when I come home from a day of performing (some people call this "a normal day") and need a lot of time to unwind and recoup some of my energy know the real me. The less guarded me (I'd like to say unguarded...but if I'm being real, that doesn't happen as often as I'd like).

Why?

"The real me" scares even me a lot of the time. I don't expect people who are not me to understand or like the real me. I've been wounded by many people in this lifetime that I thought loved me for me, but I later found out that they only loved some parts of me, not all of me. The real me has been made fun of and bullied for many of the things that I do that make up me. And those little jabs and jokes and comments have built up troughs full of shame. Whether it's noticing the array of lovely facial tics I have, the fact that I feel SO MANY FEELINGS SO VERY MUCH ALL THE TIME and they therefore label me a drama queen or high maintenance, or jesus can I just let something go every once in a while? Those things have made me want to hide so much of me for so long. Who I am, in real life, under the facade and acting, has always been too much for most people. Over time I've learned what is likable, palatable and funny and quirky rather than annoying, depressing or just too much. This constant hiding is making my life hard. Sometimes unbearable. And it's taken 3 years of intense therapy to say...

No more hiding.

This is me. All of me. Take me or leave me. And if you leave me, that's ok. Less people to make me anxious! I have found love and friendship and self compassion and value in my life again. A lot of it from therapy. A lot of it from my closest friends. A lot of it from an unconditionally loving partner who has never once asked me to change. Being surrounded by people who seek to understand me, and at the very least, not shame me even when they can't understand.

My dad has severe anxiety. I lived with him my entire childhood through adolescence. I saw what it was like to live a life shaped by fear. I saw what it was like to have someone so wonderfully passionate about life let their anxieties make their world very small. When I was younger I vowed to myself to do things that make me scared, because if I didn't, my life would be made small by anxiety and fear. So I continually do things that make me afraid. This is why I'm a professor. It would have been much easier to be researcher. I wouldn't have to talk to many people (cause you know I'd do all internet-based research). But every fucking day I push through my anxiety and introversion so I can stand up in front of students and help change their lives. It's exhausting, sometimes it's terrifying, but it's also the most rewarding thing I do. If I had chosen to live a small, fear-based life I might be like my dad. My dad has a degree in education and he's never taught. He works at an insurance company and talks to as few people as possible. It works for him. It would not work for me.

Writing these blog posts have been terrifying. And for a long time I lost my way. I was brave in some areas but let my life be ruled by fear in some major ways. I'm regaining that tenacity. This is scary, which means I MUST do this. This is what I've always done. I took a break for a while. I was hiding behind all this scary shit. I have funny stories too. Funny and hilarious stories. Once I clear out the backlog of scary hiding pieces I've held on to for so long I'll get back to lighter, funnier things. But I will strive to keep balance. Funny can't be appreciated as much if you haven't faced the dark. So stay tuned. There will be more. Some happy. Some not. That's my life. And I'm sharing it with you.

Getting Crafty

I have never considered myself a crafty person. Actually, I actively avoided anything craft-like for a very, very long time. I would rather someone else craft something for me or buy something rather than embark on the painful, frustrating process of crafting something.

However, last Christmas I was dating someone who valued handmade gifts above anything else. I decided to embark on a project for her because I knew it would be meaningful, not only because it was handmade, but because it would be the first crafted thing I'd done in about a century. Through talking with Jen I realized the root cause of my craft aversion...

Growing up with a fantastically talented artist mother I saw examples of stunning art all around me. Our house was mostly filled with her artwork and the woman is talented beyond measure (take a peek here). In addition to being an artist she's also the most talented handiworker, crafter, DIYer, project creator ever. Check out her blog. As someone not at all confident in her artistic or crafting skills and as a ruthless perfectionist who was raised to excel in all things attempted, I long ago decided that I was never going to be anywhere close to as good as her at doing any sort of handiwork so I decided why bother? In my mind I'd have an image of what my finished project should look like (something my mom could easily do) and when I got done it would look like a blind orangutan had completed it and the defeat was always crushing. So crafting became my enemy, and like all enemies of mine it ceased to exist in my mind.

While talking with Jen about this she pointed out that really the only person this was impairing was me, and maybe I ought to try DIY-ing some stuff for myself and with low expectations. I was skeptical but decided I would try it.

I decided to tackle home made snow globes in Vos water bottles. I saw the idea in a book at Barnes & Noble (can't remember which one...some photography DIY book). I also can't find any pics of my finished projects and rather than delay this post I found this person posted a blog post about them and a couple pictures. Mine were a bit different though. I decided to put pictures inside rather than random snowflakes or some other winter scene. I gave myself several weeks of time to complete the project because I knew there would be bumps and snafus along the way and I know myself well enough to know that I would get frustrated and pissed off plenty along the way and adding a time crunch would only serve to be defeating. I ended up working on the project nearly every day for 2-3 weeks! I had to make several revisions along the way as my idea translated into reality and I realized certain things wouldn't work. What I ended up doing was creating 6 snow globes. Five for my closest friends in Chico and one for Jen. I wanted to practice on my friends' globes before I attempted the most important one. The final product consisted of three pictures of the friend and I which I digitally stitched together into a long strip and some sort of friendship quote/image that I glued to the back of the strip of pictures. They turned out really nice and even though they weren't the original idea I had pictured, I was very pleased with the projects AND the experience. I got a little boost of confidence back in my skills...

But naturally, life gets busy. I didn't craft anything all spring as I was just trying to work and manage a chaotic personal life. But this summer I decided to try something new! My good friend Nandi is an amazing tie-dyer. I asked her to teach me how to tie-dye. I can vaguely remember tie-dying a shirt or two as a kid, but hadn't attempted anything else since then. For the past month I have been working on improving my skills and loving EVERY. SINGLE. MINUTE. of it. I found something I could enjoy and am pretty good at it. I think one of the things I like best is that tie-dying leaves a lot of room for errors. You never exactly know what something is going to look like when it's done; it's just the nature of working withe tie-dye. I still get annoyed if I accidentally drip a dark color spot on some place it wasn't supposed to go, but I'm working on not being all fatalistic about it. It's life; move on.

This past week my mom came to visit and wanted to learn how to tie-dye. I was really nervous about teaching her. If Picasso asked you to teach him something crafty you might also feel a bit of pressure ;) To my relief it went not only well, but it was a lot of fun! She was a great student who was very attentive and asked a lot of questions and made me feel like I knew what I was doing! Whew! I'm not ready to be all gung-ho Martha Stewart, but I also don't feel like I want to slap small children when someone asks me if I want to craft something! Progress!

Some of my lovely tie-dying:

My very first tie-dye piece completed!

A onesie I made for my nephew!

Some groovy capri yoga pants I made for my sister

Reconnecting

We reconnect now

Who knows what the future holds?

Better than before

Happy Hump Day

 Sunshine and rainbows

Today started with a bang

Let's keep it up week

Struggles

Bombs drop from the sky

The expected has happened

Where do we go now?

Therapizing

Sifting through the past

Trying to find out what's what

 Where are the answers?

Maybe Some Inspiration...

I know, I know, I know. I'm lame sauce. I stink at updating my blog. I have had a hard year. But an old friend is doing a 14 day Haiku challenge on his blog and I decided maybe I'd try and participate too. I thought maybe it would inspire me to get writing again. I miss it, I just feel overwhelmed when thinking about starting and stopping again. So no promises. I do love haikus and it seems low commitment. Let's see if I can do it.

Sometimes life is hard

But you get up and kick shit

And go onward more

365: My Life is Hilariously Awesome

How many of you have ever had the words anal intercourse appear in your performance/job review (and been ok with it :))? My job is amazing and I'm so happy to be here. For reasons other than anal intercourse, but that's just the cherry on top.

365: Three Jobs

I officially three jobs to do today: take care of the dogs, keep the fire in the wood stove going, and take a shower before Ange got home. She was supposed to be home at 7. I barely made it. Life is rough.

Chapstick

I LOVE chapstick. Maybe more than love. Maybe I'm addicted to chapstick. My friends and family would probably say so. I could totally ween myself off of it if I wanted, but why would I want to do that? Chapstick makes your lips so soft and smooth. Who wants dry crusty lips? Not me that's for sure. My favorite kind of chapstick is Chapstick brand in mint flavor. If I have no chapstick I'll use pretty much anything but given a choice, mint is the way to go. My least favorite kind is plain. Especially no name gross plain kind. Yuck. I like a firm chapstick too. Blistex is way too smushy. I think it has higher petroleum content. Chapstick brand is a nice consistency. It doesn't squish all over your lips when you use it. Two of the worst things that happen with chapstick is if you leave it in your pocket and send it through the wash. If it just gets washed it gets water-logged and even if you let it sit out to dry it's never the same. If it goes through the dryer then it melts all over your clothes and leave permanent little grease spots. Ange is the worst at leaving chapsticks in her pockets. Grr. The other worst thing is if you leave your chapstick in your car. It gets all melty and if you try to use it before it cools down it smashes all over your lips. If it's not sitting upright then it oozes all over the tube and gets all deformed. Bleck. I go through about 1.5 chapsticks a month. It's worth it.

How I Looked for a Job

As I mentioned previously, I often make decisions in random spastic ways, and this pattern has usually served me well and I alluded to the fact that my new job search was somewhat similar to the way I had chosen my undergraduate university.

All is ready to be revealed because I got a job offer and I accepted! Yay, yay, yay!

So one would think that with higher and higher levels of education you would you have more choices in the world available to you. That's kind of true in some ways, but not so much in others.

You see, there's only so many places that a person with a PhD can work. And the job openings for those people don't open up often. So when you go out to look for a job your choices are somewhat limited. You go where there are job offers and that often means you have to do a nationwide search. And that's what most PhD students do.

That's mostly what I did...but with some limits. I know that the economy is bad right now and just getting A job anywhere I can should be my goal. But in the words of one wise person, homie don't play that. I really cannot be expected to move just anywhere. Besides the fact that I am generally picky about my surroundings, I have actual real-life concerns like is my family going to be discriminated against or worse, hate crimed? Why in the world would I choose to move somewhere more backwards and conservative than Indiana? And while we're at it, why do I want to live anywhere uglier than Indiana and farther away from civilization?

So I needed a plan. And here it is:

Oh how I love MS Paint

Anywhere in the "Not Even" zone would be immediately passed over for consideration. Generally speaking, these are very conservative states where my family would be in danger and/or highly undesirable places to live anyway for a multitude of reasons (ratio of city to farmland, distance from the beach, plethora of Southern twang, etc.). Now I'm sure some cities in the zone are "just lovely," but frankly no amount of convincing on the part of a native is going to convince me I would want to live anywhere in the zone. So I didn't apply anywhere where jobs were listed in this area.

I heard from a lot of people that this was a fool-hardy decision; I shouldn't limit myself so much. Well guess what? I applied for 52 jobs outside of that zone. FIFTY TWO. That's a lot. I was sure I'd get SOMETHING.

And guess what?

I did. Suck it naysayers.

And not only did I get A job in the desirable zone, I got one of my top choices in my very top zone of ideal living.

I accepted a job at California State University-Chico on Monday. My heart is singing on the highest mountain-tops. Starting this fall I will be a tenure-track Assistant Professor at Chico State. I've never been so happy in my entire life. Once again, random strategies for world domination have worked in my favor. Go me!

How I Chose My Undergraduate College

You know when you are in junior high/early high school and you have to take the PSAT? Well after you take it, and if you do well, you start getting a whole bunch of junk from colleges that want to recruit you because you are oh so smart. Well unbeknownst to my dad I returned every damn info card I got in the mail. Every. Single. One. 

I got hundreds. 

Why would I do this? Well I knew I wanted to go somewhere in life. I wanted to venture out into the big wide world and DO SOMETHING. Something important. And getting out into the world and doing something important would most likely not happen if I stayed in Indiana and went to IU, IUPUI or Purdue like my high school friends. I needed to get OUT of Indiana. So why not send postcards out all over the wide berth of the US? Sounded good to me. 

My dad was so angry with the amount of mail I was getting. Hehe. 

Here was my system of selecting a college:

1. Get postcard or small letter-y type thing telling me about some fabulous college far from Indiana in 200 words or less. 

2. Fill out postcard saying "YES! I would like more information about your far away college. Please bury me in mail."

3. Get a much bigger and more in-depth mailing about far-flung college with pictures and lots of words describing whether or not it was cool. 

4. Look at materials the college sent and decide if they were lame or not. This was a somewhat random process. Mostly I looked to see where they were (no where too cold or snowy, e.g. Minnesota), whether or not they had been sneaky with their first mailing and they were secretly a religious college (No Jesus freak schools for me), and if they seemed hippie and random enough (I can't be somewhere all stuffy and strict). Lame schools went into the trash and good enough schools went into the maybe pile. 

5. The maybe pile got pretty big. I had to go back through and apply more strict standards. Not really too sure what these standards were, but they were obviously important at the time. 

6. I somehow managed to whittle it down to 3 schools (plus IUPUI which was my safety school). I applied to all 4 and waited. Eventually got accepted to 3 and waitlisted at 1. Decided if they thought I was only waitlist material I hated them anyway and I'd rather drop dead than attend their school. So I really had two decisions.

7. Since I am a procrastinator extraordinare I waited until like April (when most of my peers already decided where they were going and had plunked down deposits) to start realizing I needed to really pick one. So I packed up on two marathon road trips. My dad got to go to Florida with me (and this is where we had the 18 hour drive where we spoke barely at all) and my mom got to go to Pennsylvania with me. 

8. The Florida school had managed to be sneaky through all of their materials. They turned out to be way too strict and too religious. Yuck. Nevermind. 

9. Luckily my Pennsylvania choice turned out to be PERFECT. Since they had bombarded me with lots of mail and even phone calls I had already had a sneaky suspicion that I would love them. I was right. It was a glorious trip and I had found my perfect school. My dad continued to be annoyed that I chose a school 8 hours away. He bought me a car so he didn't have to drive to Pennsylvania again until I graduated. WIN!

Turns out Juniata was the best random decision I ever made. If I had to go back and do it all over again I wouldn't have changed a thing. The experience I had at Juniata really shaped who I am today and of course who I am today is AWESOME. I was confident in my haphazard system and it worked out for me. Don't let anyone boss you and tell you that you are not making informed and sensible decisions. Sometimes wacky systems turn out to work well. Just be fearless and confident that you'll find your way.

Make New Friends, But Keep the Old...

My sister recently wrote about her time in the Girl Scouts and now I have Make New Friends stuck in my head. Which brings me to the subject of friends. I have a couple of things to say about this topic, but in the interest of not writing marathon posts I've decided to break them up.
 

Recently my dearest BIL told my sister she needed to get friends other than me. As if! She had to patiently explain to him that it is just coincidence that two of the awesomest people on the planet happen to be sisters and naturally, when two awesome people find each other they are of course going to be friends. So get over it. We are bffs and always will be. 

There are several good things about having your bff being also your sister. There is nearly a complete lack of formality. My sister doesn't have to clean up her house to have me over, I don't have to worry about wearing dirty sweatpants over to her house, I can call her and say "Hey, I'm around the corner from your school and I need to get some groceries, wanna go to Target with me?" And the list goes on and on.

Another good thing (at least for us) is that you can never really get mad at your sister bff. Even if we are being annoying to each other we get over it in about 5 minutes. Hello, she's my sister. Like I could ever hate her guts. And if we do get annoyed with each other we can just get out of each other's way for a little bit and it's not a big stinking deal. We just call each other later. Not that we really ever get in fights. Like I said before, we're awesome. 

My final point: we have a shared history. We've spent all of our lives together. This allows us to speak almost in code; certain phrases and words that mean nothing to other people bring back memories and context for us (e.g. "Get your own bagel boy!" or "HILLS!!!"). I almost always know where she's coming from and she gets things about me that no one else would. 

I know not everyone has this relationship with their sisters. And I know that I specifically mention my sister Leslie in this post but I also have the same relationship with Hilary. She just lives farther away and is younger so the relationship is slightly different, but still strong. It makes me sad that others don't have the same relationship with their sisters. Most of the best memories and moments of my life include my sisters. So even if I have other friends, and even if I meet new friends, my sisters will always, always be two of my best friends.

5 Things I Love About Ange

1. She is so funny. Both intentionally and unintentionally. We have never gone through a day without laughing together. Laughter truly is the soundtrack to our lives.

2. She never lets me quit. When I feel like things are too tough and I just want to quit or avoid them she makes me face the music and get through it. She makes me a strong and better person because of this. 

3. She almost always does the things that I don't want to do. Like talk to strangers. Or icky chores when I'm so tired. When I'm at my wits end, she finds a way to do little things that push me back to normal.

4. She deals with my craziness. Living with me is not easy. She always finds a way to take a deep breath and solider on and can always find a way to calm me down and bring me back to earth.

5. She's smart and thoughtful. She thinks deeply about things and has a zest for learning that is inspiring and refreshing. She is always finding out new things and sharing them with me. She listens to my thoughts and helps me work through issues. 

Obviously, she is the best. I love her like our doggies love treats.

Hello? (Echo, echo, echo...)

Oh hai. 

I know I have been totally MIA for almost a month. Some chaos and craziness has ensued and my life kind of went topsy turvy and it's taken a few weeks for me to settle down and adjust. I'm home in the USA. I left Nigeria a little earlier than planned but I'm not going to go into all the crazy details because it's a long story. Just know that I'm fine, my peeps in Nigeria are fine, my relationships that I built while I was there continue and my research continues as well. I am continuing to make adjustments as needed so that I will still graduate by May and other than that I am happy, healthy and whole!

I've spent the last few weeks finding my new "normal" back home. I struggled the first few weeks with figuring out a schedule for myself since I have little to no responsibilities in my life until January. But my boss re-hired me so that has given me some stuff to do. I have been attending my weekly PhD cohort meetings which gives me one day back in B-ton and intellectual stimulation that I've been longing for and that makes me happy. I'm still working on the self-discipline thing to continue my academic work (which is all personal and therefore has no actual deadlines) and I think I'm getting back into the saddle. I've been working out and continuing to eat healthy so I can continue the weight loss/get healthy thing I started in Nigeria. I have not gained a single pound back from the 15 I lost while I was there so that is a major victory! Ange has been joining me in this mission so hopefully we'll both continue to do well. 

I hope to be back to regular postings soon, so stay tuned!

General Update

I've been posting mostly about cultural stuff and funny stories rather than actual my daily life so I thought I was overdue for one. 

I still have not received approval to start interviewing students which is of course frustrating. I've been here just over 10 weeks and I still have yet to meet with the committee who does the approvals and I'm not really sure if the entire committee has seen my documents. It's kind of hard to nail down exact answers. There are a variety of mitigating factors (various important events, internet at the University was down for several weeks, etc.) but I am getting really antsy. I don't want to run out of time and have to rush through my interviews. It's starting to turn into a scene from The Money Pit. I ask about approval from my contacts and the answer is always "Oh I think in the next week it should be approved." But I'm stuck in a sticky situation. Being able to do my research in this environment is a HUGE deal (both to me and in terms of precedence) so I want to honor my hosts (hosts both specifically & generically) but the bottom line is that I have a very limited amount of time left and every day that ticks by sends me into a panic. I've little by little been stepping up my check-ins and follow-throughs...trying to worry less about cultural politeness (though keeping it in mind) and more about actual facts of life. Hopefully I will have a happier update about this SOON!

I finally finished off my $11 box of Apple Jacks. They were excellent down to the almost stale last bite.

I have been doing lots of physical activity: walking, yoga, playing soccer with the teen boys on the compound, etc. I have lost some pretty substantial weight, though I'm not exactly sure how much. I don't want to feel disappointed so I've refused L's offers to use her scale. But my clothes are very loose and I can see a difference in the mirror. Let's hope I keep this momentum up and continue it when I get home. New me!

I am definitely integrated into the community as much as I will ever be short of living here for the rest of my life (which won't happen EVER). I get scolded for not following social norms, people ask where I am if I don't attend an event (or if they THINK I didn't attend something), and people generally don't give me too much special treatment. There is some special treatments that will always remain (L still gets special privileges and she's lived her 8 years) but people are less likely to wear their "best white people" behavior when I'm around. I have some real friendships that have formed. I know a ton of people. Students wave at me when I'm on campus. Different market merchants know me. In general, life is as "normal" as it's going to be. 

I've applied to 21 faculty jobs so far. I have 3 more in the queue that are waiting for various deadlines, etc. Keeping my hopes up that more will be posted as none of the current ones are in places where I have family. There are a number of them that are very exciting and sound great, but really, I would take a job I was less enthused about if it meant I got to be close to family. We shall see how it pans out. 

Other than that I'm just living life and taking it day by day. I'm kind of in a lull right now until I can get going with my interviews. I'm staying busy by helping out with various non-research related projects that people have asked for my help with. I'm just trying to enjoy the little things before I get totally absorbed in my work and head home! I'll keep you updated!

Oh! Sorry-o!

In my continuing chronicle of things that Nigerians say that strike me funny or different I want to talk about saying sorry. In the US we generally only say sorry if we did something to cause trouble, pain, etc. in someone's life. But here in Nigeria you say sorry for just about anything and everything that is less than hunky dory. And it's not just "sorry" it's "Oh! Sorry-o!" In Nigeria the adding of "-o" on many, many words is both a sign of sincerity and also a little bit of Pidgin English flair. This phrase is so common that I find myself doing and saying it non-stop like everyone else. The other day I was talking to Ange online and she said she was tired. My automatic response was "Sorry." And she was of course perplexed so I had to explain this whole thing to her. Here are some more examples for when sorry is appropriate:

Someone drops a pen? Oh! Sorry-0!

You say you had a bad night's sleep? Oh! Sorry-o!

You trip and almost fall all because you are clumsy? Oh! Sorry-o!

I hear this phrase at least once every day. Probably more. And it seems to have completely infiltrated my thought processes (as noted to the conversation above with Ange). But really, I don't mind. When I said sorry to Ange she told me not to say sorry unless I really meant it. Which of course I actually did. I was sorry that she was tired, because that is unfortunate especially given it was the middle of the day and I knew she had a lot more to do that day. It might be a different kind of sorry, but that's ok with me. I can still be empathetic-ally sorry for misfortunes in another person's life. I'd rather everyone be feeling well and spry and ready to take on the world. And if you are less than that, I may just say "Oh! Sorry-o!" Ok, well maybe I'll keep the "Sorry" part and drop the "Oh!" and "-o" parts. I don't want to totally confuse everyone!

Validation

At home, Ange & I share the household duties. Mainly, she does the major stuff inside the house (sweeping, mopping, etc.) and I do the major stuff outside the house (run errands, most of the shopping, etc. ). Now, I know I am far from normal. And I am under the firm belief that non-normal people tend to attract other non-normal people, and in fact, mostly crazy people and crazy situations to them. I know that when I walk out the door in the morning I will get more than my fair share of crazbos trying to make my life difficult. I accept it and sometimes all I look for from my partner is a little validation. A little "sorry you had to deal with that." Usually I don't get it and instead get a list of reasons why I am probably misinterpreting the situation, overdramatizing the situation, or reasons I should give the person sympathy. Which of course I don't want to hear any of those things.

But times...they are a changin'.

My most epic struggle has been with the maroons who work in the Pharmacy at the Work Release Kroger around the corner from us. We started using this pharmacy because A. it was close to the house, B. we now have several dogs who are permanently or intermittently on drugs in addition to mine, and C. one of Ange's good friends used to work there. When I first started going there, if Ange's good friend wasn't there it always seemed like the most random ridiculousness would transpire. I would try to tell Ange about these situations but she apparently she did not want to believe that everyone besides her friend at that Kroger was a complete idiot. It was always someone else's fault, or a mistake, or I was imagining it...but never that everyone else was a nincompoop. I don't know if she was trying to stay loyal for her friend's sake or if she thought I was being my usual dramatic self, but whatever it was, I was just wrong and over-reacting.

Now here's the most delicious part: now that I am in Africa for 5 months Ange has to do everything herself. All the errands, pill picking up, grocery shopping, etc. All by herself. So now she gets to see the craziness I deal with on a regular basis. After experiencing the idiocy of the Kroger Pharmacy with her own eyes for the eleven-dy-ith time she in fact apologized for ever having doubted me. She realized they were completely incompetent and nuts. She apologized under the agreement that she never have to do "my jobs" again. I said I would be glad to resume interacting with the loonie tunes outside world under the condition that she give ME the benefit of the doubt in the future and realize that people are just plain nuts and love to torture me when all I want to do is run in and out of the store and when I bitch and moan instead of telling me why I might be wrong to say "I totally understand and I'm sorry you have to deal with that." Ladies and gentleman, we had ourselves a deal. Validation has never felt so sweet.

Rain Rain Doh Doh*

* When my cousin was little she had some speech delays. One of the ways the pediatrician suggested helping promote speaking was singing songs. Her interpretation of "Rain, rain, go away, come again another day!" was "Rain, rain, doh, doh." She's totally normal now. Well...as normal as anyone in our family can be.

It's rained every day that I've been here except 2 I think. And as a reminder I've been here 59 days. It's rainy season so it's not a surprise, but seriously, Seattle has nothing on Nigeria. At least during the rainy season.

Rain here is different than in the US for a number of reasons.

1. The rain here sounds different. You can hear it trying to sneak up on you like a toddler learning how to tiptoe. It moves swiftly but has a distinctive sound that can stop you in the middle of a sentence so you can tilt your head and say "Rain is coming." Because most of the roofs here are metal and there is no need for insulation because it's never cold (and it would just get wet, moldy and infested anyway) the rain sounds different. If you are in a low roof building it can be incredibly loud when it's the middle of a downpour. So loud, in fact, that your conversations almost rise to shouting levels.

2. Rain is incapacitating here. The rain can be SO heavy SO fast that it's like instant flash flood level rain. Add that to the fact that there isn't much infrastructure for drainage and the like you quite literally have streets that become completely impassable within minutes of rain starting. And even if it only rains for a little while, it will rain again before the area has time to dry up. If it's raining really hard you know that whatever event or destination you are heading to will be delayed substantially. Hours even. Considering the major modes of transportation for the majority of people consist of either your feet or a motorbike you can see how people can't get places when it rains.

3. Leaky roofs are the norm and nothing to be concerned about. Due to both craftsmanship issues and harsh environmental conditions most buildings have leaks in them. When it rains hard or for hours on end the trusty standby buckets get dragged out and placed under the leaks to catch the water. No one bats an eye. It's just common and expected.

4. Rain is mostly a joyful events, even days on end. In the US we get cranky if it rains more than two days in a row. Here there is much greater perspective on rain. When it's rainy season people are grateful because they know it is feeding the ground for the plants and food that need it very much. You rarely hear anyone complaining about how the rain ruined their plans and is causing too many problems. It's a refreshing attitude and one I will try to keep when I am home in my comfy house with no roof leaks in the US.

5. My favorite, favorite thing about rain is that it keeps everything cooler and helps with pest control. As long as it keeps raining bugs tend not to reproduce (they hatch AFTER rainy season) and it stays nice and cool. In fact the past week has been particularly chilly. I had goosebumps in church the other day because it was so chilly and for almost the past week I've had to turn my air conditioner off at night because it's been too cold for it.

I Don Tiyah*

*That's Pidgin for "I'm tired." I know, it's actually the same or more words to say it in Pidgin, but no one ever said there was a lot of rationale for some Pidgin words & phrases.

This is pretty much my mantra here in Nigeria. I don't know what it is or why, but I almost always feed exhausted here. In the US I am usually always on the move, running around, etc. I usually get 7 hours of sleep and feel refreshed. Here, I can get 9 hours of sleep and wake up still feeling like I can barely get up and that I could sleep another 5 hours. I mean, I think I know some of the reasons, but not necessarily all of them.

1. I am living a very superficial life here. In an effort to fit in with the community I have a very sanitized version of my life story, and basically I wear a facade any time I am outside of my room, which obviously is often. This is exhausting. I have to constantly be "on" and I rarely have time to vent or even just be candidly honest for fear of various repercussions (personal and research/professional).

2. My biggest foe in Nigeria is boredom. I know this sounds weird. I'm in a country much different than my own, I'm here doing work, I'm often busy and on-the-go, how in the world can I be bored? Well because the security situation in Nigeria is less than optimal, I don't really have much freedom of movement. I am limited often by transport and security issues. So this means I spend the majority of time either in the compound, at the university, or at Church. It gets tedious and monotonous. Being bored is natural and after a while, it is also exhausting. And sleeping also gives you something new to do to pass the time.

3. Stress. Due to the two above, I know my body is under a lot of stress, both consciously and unconsciously. One way that the body deals with stress is to shut down. If your body is too tired to do anything it is less likely to go places and do things that cause stress. So I'm battling not only circumstances but my own biology as well.

Luckily I recognize these things so I do what I can to maintain my sanity and push through the tiredness. I've been exercising a lot more lately (as opposed to none), trying to not take as many naps (even if there isn't much to do), and generally just being cognizant of this so I can take advantage of any opportunities to reduce the feelings of tiredness in my life. And thankfully, I'll never be in this position again so I won't have to battle it after 3 more months.