The dramz

I didn’t realize until today how much drama my life has held. Like holy-you-seriously-don’t-have-time-for-even-the-short-version drama.

I love drama actually… as long as it doesn’t involve me. Shows like Desperate Housewives make me happy because ah! the crazies! and they don’t involve me at all. I can sit back and enjoy my comparatively normal life.

Until my life isn’t normal. Actually I’m pretty sure it never is normal but sometimes it seems that way. When I really realize how crazy my life is is when I try to explain even simple things, like my family.

It’ll start with a simple question like, “how many siblings do you have?” My answer:

“Well, I’m the oldest of six… but I also have two older half brothers. They’re a lot older though so I didn’t really grow up with them. They’re almost my mom’s age. See, my dad was married and had two kids. My mom is his second marriage and he had six more kids with her. Oh yeah, my dad is 21 years older than my mom.”

Or something along those lines.

Maybe I’m just a chronic oversharer. Probably considering I blab my life on my blog.

I just feel like people won’t truly understand me if they don’t have all the information. I was raised as an oldest child and have the personality to go with it. However, I love my half brothers very much and don’t want to discount them in my life. I really have seven siblings. At the same time, I still feel like the oldest.

Confused enough yet?

Obviously I don’t go into the whole spiel every single time siblings come up in conversation. Sometimes I just say I have five younger siblings. Or seven siblings. Or I just say I’m the oldest. It depends on what I feel like they’re up for listening to. Although I imagine I’ve read the signals wrong and left someone wishing they hadn’t asked.

Fortunately my complicated family groupings aren’t any part of my life drama. Usually. Obviously I’ve had some spats with all my siblings and I wish I had more time with all of them but for the most part we either get along really well or at least live our lives without bothering each other. My family is just an illustration of how abnormal my life is.

The drama is of a whole different variety but it’s equally, if not far more complicated. Sometimes it weighs on me so heavily it would be nice to just spill it to someone. The issue? There is not enough time in a day to explain even the back story so I could start explaining what’s actually wrong.

I’m not over dramatizing this. It’s that ridiculous and complicated and just plain crazy.

I love my blog. I love the people I’ve met through my blog and on Twitter. However, there are time I wish I were an anonymous blogger. Then I could spill my guts to the world without having to worry about the backlash. If I started an anonymous blog though I’d lose everyone I’ve worked so hard to get to know over the past year. Making friends is hard enough, I don’t want to start from scratch.

So, I have no real outlet and all the thoughts and stories and feelings just tumble around in my head. Of course I can talk to Joel about it but he’s kind of in the middle of it like I am so he doesn’t have a very neutral perspective.

It’s quite a conundrum for a chronic oversharer like me.

Choices

I know I need to choose:

patience

love

peace

forgiveness

Despite the fact that I feel:

STAB STAB STAB STAB

It’s a choice. Happiness is a choice.

I want to be happy. I want to be at peace. I want to just let it all go.

I know I am a good person.

I’m occasionally selfish but I believe I am mostly empathetic.

I’m sometimes snarky and sarcastic but I’m usually a pleasant, kind, loving person to be around.

I try to always think of others and how they would feel about a situation. I try to put myself in their place and understand where they’re coming from.

I work hard and love harder.

I’m fiercely loyal and deeply passionate.

Most people enjoy my company. Or at least they pretend to.

I try to keep a positive outlook on life and smile as often as possible.

I know that some people will be impossible to please. I won’t get along with everyone. Some people just won’t like me. I also will not like everyone. Some people are assholes.

However, even to the assholes I will strive to be as polite as possible. You never know what someone’s background is.

There are so many things about myself that I would like to improve. I’m so very far from perfect. Perfection shouldn’t be my goal.

Love is my goal.

Happiness is my goal.

Peace is my goal.

My name means joy and my biggest goal in life is to create joy in others. I love people.

I refuse to let the occasional crazy person ruin my day.

I choose not to.

Our Indian family

From my experience, Indians are some of the most welcoming people I have ever met. Our host family immediately embraced us and by the end I felt like I had become an extended relative. They were wonderful.

Joel and I with our contact, A and his cousin M. M is a politician but I’ll write more on that later.

The house we stayed in was M’s with his wife, mother and three kids.

The kids adored us despite what it may seem like by the look on the littlest one’s face in this picture.

One other semi- member of the family?

Aws! Ok, so it was a stray that had decided to make their front yard it’s home. Joel about killed me for picking it up but it was so freaking adorable! As far as I can tell I did not catch rabies, fleas or lice from it so yay.

The kids, Joel and I had a ton of silly fun.

My phone was fascinating to them. I guess that’s pretty much a universal thing.

One of their favorite things was playing hand clap games. They taught me a couple in their language. Don’t ask me to repeat them back now, I don’t remember. They were fun though.

Their mom braiding their very long beautiful hair for school.

I loved being their “Auntie” and treasure all the happy moments I got to share with them. Our flight out was early in the morning so I figured I had to say my goodbyes the night before. We were scheduled to leave the house at 5am and I was surprised that everyone was waking up while we were. But every one of them got up, showered, got dressed and piled into a tiny five-seater car. For the record it was Joel, Me and the wife with a child each on our lap. Then M, A and one of the pastors we met with in the front. In case you weren’t counting that’s NINE people in a car the size of a Geo Metro. I was afraid that little car wasn’t going to make it. It definitely bottomed out more than once. We did though and they parked and went as far into the airport with us as they could.

We were very lucky to have met them. I’m so glad that I now have an Indian family waiting for me whenever we get to go back. I hope it’s soon.

Wordless Wednesdays: Start of Autumn

I’m a flight attendant, not a baker

We’re just leaving my parents’ house. Phoebe’s party went really well. I’m not going to get home and to the computer in time to post the pictures tonight though. I’ll be sure to post them as soon as I can tomorrow along with some little video clips we took. Until then, here’s a preview. This is the cake I made for the people. Obviously I’m not a professional cake decorator but it was pretty tasty so it served it’s purpose. *smile*