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quirks and...CELEBRATIONS!

2 whole weeks without...
...long underwear
...hats, scarves, gloves drinks
...sleeping under 5 blankets
...blowing our nose
...2 pairs of socks botox
...checking to see if have hot water...or water at all...
...slipping on icy patches
...judging the quality of the day by how grey and smoky it is
...checking to see the number of digits behind the negative sign
...icicle-y eye lashes

We WARMLY welcome: fruit, sunshine and bootleg DVDs

We are so excited to not only be warm for 2 weeks but also to spend time with our good friend, Joseph, who is another Mission Intern in Cambodia.

Hopefully we will get to experience what life is like there. And get to enjoy some good hammock time on his porch, looking at the stars--that we haven't seen in a while.

Goodbye Mongolia, Hello Cambodia! (well...we're going to detour for a campout in the Beijing airport but we'll get there eventually)


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An ode to my wiser self

I've been thinking about blogging a lot lately. Well, writing, rather. I used to write a lot. It was therapeutic and life giving for me. It helped me to be in a constant state of process where I was not just taking in life but searching for and digging for meaning. It kept me grounded and real, for lack of better word.

I have been starting to write more lately and have several little bits I'm working on. In the process of digging out my blog from the depths of the internet, I found this jewel that I wrote years ago. Yes, that's right... years ago. I thought it was beautiful and worth sharing. So, in an attempt to revive this way of sharing my thoughts and processing...

Here is an ode to my younger (and probably wiser) self:

Welcome to The Chronicles of a Confused Citizen.

Here I am, residing in the country I was born in, living the life I knew from my birth to year 22.

It doesn't quite feel right, though.

Recently, as I found myself living in Mongolia, I started feelin…

bring it on, world.

October 26, 2011.

That is the day I last wrote a blog. That's not the day when my life changed but it is a day that I can recognize as one of the last ones when I knew who I was and what my purpose was.

I'm not generally a quitter. Sure, sometimes I quit on books or I quit on small projects but in life, nope. I  try hard at most things, usually right until the end. I won't say that quitting is not a thought that meanders through my being when something gets tough but I have come to learn that when I stick things out I come out having learned a thing or two.

But I did quit. I quit a big commitment. I said I would live in Washington, DC and I would do my best.

I tried. I also had my very first panic attack, too.

It was too much. I couldn't think or breathe. I couldn't cope with the devastation I felt for leaving Mongolia early that March morning. I couldn't cope with no one understanding what Mongolia had meant to me and how it had changed me right down to my bo…