Normal.

I've been told by my only loyal reader on this blog that I need to write a blog post. I'll be honest, I think I am a terrible blogger. Blogging takes time and dedication. I have the time, but apparently not the dedication. I think desire gets thrown into the mix too... and creativity. I often think, who the heck would want to read about my life? Apparently my best friend does. Which is funny, because she knows more about what is going on in my life right now than pretty much anyone else.

Perhaps her timing could not be more perfect. It has been one year since I left Uganda and this week I have been thinking about it quite a bit. I think I have hit all re-entry, culture shock, and craziness of leaving one country and entering another that happens. I have written a master's thesis, traveled to Boston a few times, and managed to graduate. I flew to Sri Lanka to be able to watch a good friend get married and felt like I was the queen of the world by staying in some posh places. In the process of returning to the states, I got stuck in Qatar and feared for my life, cried like a fool, and was in complete awe of the amount of sand that the country held. Maybe I should have been in more awe of their oil. So technically I can check off the Middle East and Arabian Peninsula off of my- travel-to-one-day list. I also really regret not buying the dates in the duty-free store in the Doha airport.

I returned to Minnesota and life got predictably normal. Because lets face it, normal people don't travel and move and change addresses as much as I have in the last five years. I'm figuring out normal and it is growing on me. Normal means making dinner for my parents at night and getting great joy out of their satisfaction. Normal means being able to see my friend's babies toddlers grow and learn and change. Normal means teaching said toddler how to draw snowmen and getting him addicted to it. (Sorry Beth!) Normal means spending hours and hours on end applying for more than 150 jobs and still being unemployed; and then having your friends/colleagues tell you they have applied to double your amount and are still unemployed. Normal means trying to figure out how to make friends in a normal setting. Normal means trying to explain on a volunteer application why you have more than seven addresses in the last five years and not sound crazy. Normal means shoveling the limited amount of snow we have gotten. Normal means being pasty white (because I live in MN) and being okay with it. Normal means hanging out with my cousins on a weekly basis. Normal means meeting with dear friends who have equally un-normal lives but somehow have ended up normal with me. Normal means drinking more, wait for it- green tea than coffee. Yes, I did just admit to the world that I am drinking more green tea right now than coffee.

So in the midst of all this normal, I find it hard to write a blog. Yet people get famous by writing a blog on their normal lives. But is that really what I want? Not really. I don't really want to be a famous blogger. Maybe, just maybe, I am joining the ranks of normal bloggers. Mediocre bloggers. The thing is, wherever someone is in life it seems so normal to them that they don't think anyone would be interested in reading about their lives. Because to them, it seems boring. I even felt like that towards the end of my time in Uganda. Yet we fail to realize that our normal will never be normal to anyone else. Yes, other people may relate- but my reality in all its conditions will never be like anyone else. wow. Did I just talk myself into blogging? Maybe I did. But here is the thing. Do I have the desire and time? I have the time (remember the 150 failed job applications?) but do I have the desire? Probably not... at least not until my dear friend tells me to write another blog post.

And for kicks, since blog posts are always more interesting with pictures, I have included one with my mother and I doing a normal winter thing of visiting the conservatory.

Did you notice the pasty white skin? Yeah, apparently that is normal for Minnesota in January.