I'm glad you liked the pictures. And thanks for the concern, too, this particular bog is deep and I think it will be a long time before my friends are through it. God is a good friend with strong arms, though, even when life is so cruel.


I drove my dear friend and her adorable kids to the airport yesterday, and then went to meet some other dear friends at the House of Nanking, in San Francisco- only the best Chinese food restaurant ever! The thing to do, at the House of Nanking,is to ask the waiter, who has the most amazing maitre d' attitude, in his little famous dive restaurant, and can always be found with his spiked grey hair and his glasses tied around his neck, to order for you. He'll bring you the best Chinese food you've had, but be careful to make sure you have enough money in your pockets, because he has expensive taste. He was also a little annoyed with us yesterday, since Marc and Megan had been waiting for me for a while as I slogged through Bay Bridge traffic.

While I was in the City, I thought I'd stop in and see if there was anyone hanging out at the church I was a part of when we lived there. It's a large loft building on Market Street, and when I walked into the lobby I was confronted with a large picture of myself. (!!!)

Remember how I told you about the terrible way that those photos of me turned out? The ones we did for a friend's event promotion poster? Well, they've been immortalized in large form and hung where many, many people can see them. True, I did post them on the internet, but it's different, somehow. I'd like to revoke what I said about them, though. I actually look like I've been kicked in the head twice, not just once. But the worst thing is that all the other girls look so amazing. Not that I'm comparing, but... I'm comparing. Who wouldn't? It's a lesson in humility.


When I was nine or ten, I ran into a tree. I was chasing a kitten, and a thick branch was sticking out, which promptly slapped me in the face and knocked me onto the ground, where I rolled around holding my swollen nose. The branch had come dangerously close to my eye, but I thought that I had escaped the incident relatively damage-free. However, it has always seemed that there is something... missing.

I've figured out what was damaged, that summer day. My shopping nerve.

I'm lacking, seriously lacking. I don't have the muscle, or nerve, or gene, or something, that other people seem to have when it comes to the ability to shop. This always plagues me, and I mean always, but it comes out most seriously at Christmas. I go into a store with the best of intentions, even a detailed list, and within a few moments of entering, my mind goes completely blank and I start to panic. I begin gibbering to whomever is with me about being afraid, and then the stress begins. Grocery shopping is not quite as terrible as shopping for clothes or presents, because it is more straightforward, but lately even grocery stores have me curled up on the floor, right beside the cucumber.

Some people appear to enjoy shopping. I don't understand this. I really do think that my problems began with that one maple tree that had it out for me.


And speaking of shopping, I really had NO IDEA that people out there on the internets would actually buy a gift for someone they don't even know. (Except maybe they do know me, since they read this very honest blog, but I don't know them, so it seems as though we are strangers.) I think that it is so amazingly generous to send a faraway girl a gift for her home. Thank you.