"Why can't we be friends?" (courtesy of Smashmouth)

So this morning I finally sat down to write an "about me" page for my upcoming class reunion. I've put it off for almost 2 months now. Mostly because so much has happened in 10 years that it could never fit onto an 8 1/2 by 11 peice of paper. Basically I condensed my first entry here in to 3 paragraphs.

How does one describe oneself to an anonymous audience? You can't. Novels and biographies have been written about thousands of people, but even the most detailed cannot possibly communicate the personal feelings and nuances that makes one an individual.

And yet, I also have a hard time understanding why we all can't just "get along". We are all humans after all. At least get along to an extent. Even the Dhali Lama says that every person can't belong to the same faith. If you haven't noticed by now, I've been reading a lot of books about religion.

I most recently finished a book on Islam, "No god but God" (my apologies for not naming the author because I do not have the book with me presently). It was written by a practicing Muslim but he did an excellent job of sticking to the facts, and when he did use his own opinions he was sure to state as such. Before reading this I only had the vaguest impression of Islam. Of course after 28 years of church I sometimes feel I have only the vaguest understanding of Christianity.

Don't worry, I do not intend on going into a relious rant here. As a matter of fact, I am terrible about citing my "facts" so I usually don't get in too deep. But the conlusion I have come to personally, is that Muhammed, Jesus, Buddah, etc. were all trying to tell us the same thing, to love one another. It doesn't matter our station in life, no one can make it through this life on their own. We all need one another to survive. Each one of us is important to someone, in some way.

(This is difficult to write while I sit at work listening to patients yell at their nurses, but it's still true)

I know very well that if I were stranded on a deserted island by myself I probably wouldn't last a week. Even here at work my patients rely on me for their care, but without patients I wouldn't have a job. And not to mention that I have yet to successfully grow a single plant.

Everyone is entitled to their own opinions. Even the Shiites would probably prefer to not kill others (as long as the others did what they wanted). The problem I see is that everyone thinks their way is best. And maybe it is, for them, but not for everybody. I don't see the harm in one person wanting to pray 5 times a day, and another person only once a week. That is between them and God, not each other. But this is my own opinion, and there is little I can do about it.

It reminds me of a conversation at church one Sunday. I do believe it was the pastors wife who said, "what if she comes back wearing a scarf on her head?" I never had a chance to reply, but if so, so what? Does wearing a scarf really mean so much? Would it truly hurt people? Offend yes, obviously. When I am in Turkmenistan I fully intend on abidding by the culture, and if that means wearing a scarf on my head, so be it. No matter how hard I try to fit in, I will always stand out, and therefore be somewhat excussed for my eccentricities. All I want is to be accepted for who I am, an individual.

Wow, this sure has gone all over the place, hasn't it? I'd better stop before I start contradicting myself. Besides, I have bigger things to think about, such as whether I go to my class reunion, or skip it and use the money and go to Disneyland.

Road Block #1

Apparently my truck doesn't want to leave Humboldt County.

As I mentioned before, my family is moving to the midwest. In an attempt to make everyone's lives a little easier they offered to drive my truck out there with them. More room to carry stuff, a second vehicle to use, a "good ol' American-made" truck to have instead of their Hyundai.

First, let me mention that I have put over $1700 into fixing it up after my dad and brother destroyed it over the years. It drove great for me. How was I to know that the power steering hose would blow at Ruth Lake? So they brought it back, fixed it (and replaced the brakes) and headed off again the next morning. Not to mention everyone at church knew this before I did.

Because of the fires in northern California they had to take Hwy 299 the second time. My truck drove beautifully until just below the crest of the tallest hill going into Weaverville, where the radiator hose blew.

Already being 3 days late on their itinerary, they decided to drop the truck at my place and just take their one car. So in my landlady's driveway this afternoon they began unloading and re-arranging the junk in the 2 cars. Little did she know how much crap came with my brother and me when she said we could rent rooms.

The hardest part for me through all this was that I work night shift. So as I was trying to sleep, my dad and brother were bringing in the artillery. Literally, at least a dozen rifles and ammo.

It's been a long night.

On a more entertaining note, as I was up late last night (since I have to sleep during the day) I started to hear a rustling sound in the hallway. Then a bit later there was a few dull thuds. First I thought maybe the landlady was going to the bathroom, it is a very old, creaky house after all, then I thought one of the cats had gotten in. So I quietly opened the door just a crack, and was almost head-butted by a very confused bat. At 3 o'clock in the morning the last thing I want to do is untangle a frightened bat out of my hair. Of course the landlady had taken her hearing aides out and never even knew.

I guess all this is supposed to build character, but I think I'm fine the way I am, thank you. Even my mom admitted though, that this will all be very funny a month from now.