Dear Friends and Family,
Hopefully you read the previous post, because that is the set up for this post.
Last time I wrote about being the only blonde haired, freckles on white skin fish in a fishbowl. Because of this, it takes a lot of convincing to actually get me to leave my comfortable little abode (incidentally, I was curious about this word and it turns out to come from Germanic origin, of the Old English variety). If I don't have a specific task to accomplish I will probably not leave.
A couple of days ago was one such day. My hair was greasy, having been unwashed for a week and a day. I missed my hair washing appointment because, "eh." I didn't leave the house until 12:30. I watched a lot of T.V. Played a lot of solitaire and only left the house because there was no food and I was hungry.
The first thing that happened was my shoe broke. My beautiful Eddie Bauer flip flop. And it's not like it was right out of the gate. I had already reached the top of the hill and was more than halfway to the restaurant. It meant I would have to bring out my brand new, unsoiled pair. It also meant that I had to hobble back to my house to get the shoes, and where there was no food, or say "fuck it" and hobble to lunch.
I hobbled to lunch. I was immediately accosted by a group of boys. They sat me in a chair, one pulling out this awesome shoe repair needle fused to makeshift, melted-wad-of-plastic handle. And then he repaired my shoe. Get this, his name is Tesefaye. Of course his name is Tesefaye. For my fellow G9ers you get this, for those listening reading at home, Tesefaye was the training coordinator. Think of Santa Clause but as a skinny Ethiopian. His name also means hope.
With this positive experience urging me forward, I braved market for the first time. I bought a 1/4 (rub) kilo of bananas and a rub kilo of carrots. I ate like a queen that day. It was awesome.
Maybe I should wait to leave the house until 12:30 everyday.
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