There really is so much to write about on a weekly basis. At the beginning of each week I have so many things I'm sure I want to say so I think, OH, I'll just post a little now, but then I think, No! Keep it simple... once a week!...or something..like...that...The thing is, by the end of the week, I forgot all the things I wanted to say, even though I am constantly "writing" in my brain. Since I was little (oh, you know, four or so) I felt like I was narrating my life, sort of like that Will Ferrell movie that no one probably remembers the name of because it was pretty depressing (hint, see my post title), where the lady tells the story of his life while he's doing it. Yeah, that's how I live my life. It's no wonder I always enjoyed writing.

India is full of things stranger than fiction. And as many of our friends and family from the US have discovered, many of our best stories come from those closest to us. So really, for this post, I'm not making any of my own stuff up at all. I'm just stealing from the things people tell me (Kind of like the picture up there from the movie... um, that picture, minus what I added to it, because when one is in India, one should always brush with filtered water. Yeah, but that picture totally belongs to the movie people. Does that cover me?? Eek...). Because the things people here tell us make some pretty darn good stories. I'll limit myself to just three for the time being because really I could go on and on, but then who'd want to read me do that? I'll count 'em down backwards for you.

3) Cold killer.
I'll bet half, if not all, Americans have no idea that cold water gives you an actual cold. Seriously. It makes you sick. I am proof of this, you know. One sweltering summer day here I was totally fine, minding my own business, completely healthy- but very thirsty- so I went to the water cooler. Our driver happened to be in the kitchen at the time making tea and he said to me, "Cold water bad, Madam. Make very sick." Um, okay. So I said, "Um, okay. That's okay... I like cold water..." and I drank it. Well, you will never guess what. The next day I got a sinus infection. Granted, the doctor said it probably had never gone away from the sinus infection like, weeks before, but still. My driver was smug the whole way to the hospital. He even mentioned it on the way, like "Cold water, Madam. Bad." So there you have it. If you want to die, or you want to get sick, or you're just begging for a sinus infection that you had weeks ago to present itself again, go ahead, I dare you. Drink that icy cold beverage.
2) I'll take that served cold...
Which brings me to my next story. In what was not my finest moment in smartness, I punched my hand accidentally through a hard plastic planter. The result was none other than profuse bleeding. As I walked as calmly to the kitchen as I possibly could to stick my bloody hand under the water as quickly as I could, Maria, our maid (I prefer to refer to her as our "housekeeper")...and yes, we have one, just like everyone else here- don't get so excited!, comes to see how I'm doing. When she sees the what-I'm-doing, she says "No! No madam! That won't stop the bleeding. Only drinking water will stop the bleeding." Of course, I don't think putting my hand under disgustingly filthy water will actually stop the bleeding, but it's good to see what I'm working with, and somehow I hardly believe drinking water will stop the bleeding either. Maria did not offer to get me any water. It is a good thing too, because I would have wanted it served cold. 
1) Here's to you, Mrs. Reddy.
Maria always gives me some pretty great stories. She's Christian, as opposed to being Hindu or Muslim, the other main religions here. For whatever reason, she likes to recount all her churchly escapades of the week/month/whatever it happens to be at the time to me. This time there was no telling me about her bus trip to the 11 different "churches" all in one day, which really turned out to be an amusement park-like setting for the stations of the cross. Instead the story was better than I could have ever hoped for. As I sat in my "office/craft" room working on a quilt and listening to music, she came in and began cleaning. Sometimes I think she likes to be in the room I'm in simply because she is nosy, but that's beside the point. When Simon and Garfunkel came on, I knew she would start up a conversation. "Hm, very nice," she said. "Is this a Jesus song??" Hmm....not exactly.

So folks, it all comes back to stories. And how we have so many of them to tell. And how I am always narrating my life and how it becomes increasingly more interesting while living in another country.  So I think, if it's alright with you all, I might just post whenever I have something to say, that way I don't get into this habit of forgetting what I wanted to write and not going back to it when I do remember just because I can be lazy like that. I really will try to limit it though... you know, only 10 times a week. Haha, just kidding. Maybe 2 times. If I'm so so so lucky. And I doubt anything will be this involved. But I'm sure all our posts will be so much stranger than fiction.


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