THAT is the woman I see in the mirror...

I was the bridesmaid in a friend’s wedding two weeks ago. I told the photographer, also a friend of mine, that I would happily be in any photo as long as I never have to see them.

And then yesterday happened.

The photos were uploaded to Facebook. I have been off and on again close to tears since seeing them.

I see myself in the photos, and that is not the woman I see in the mirror each morning.  The photo with this post... THAT is the woman I see in the morning. She's fluffy, but she's adorable and has a bit of pizzazz in her step.

I’m pretty real with myself about my body image. I know I am overweight, I have struggled with this my entire life… and I know it takes the world’s opinion about my level of attractiveness and kicks it in the shins. However, the photos made me feel like the ugliest and most unwanted person on the face of the earth (and it wasn’t the photographer, she did a great job on the wedding photos).

The last time I saw the clock before going to sleep, it was about 2am. I woke up multiple times during the night and come 7am, I got up with no alarm because I had nightmares about the photos all night and didn’t want to return to them. I arrived to work at 8:40am.  To most, this is a fairly normal arrival time.  For me… well, it was significantly early for my I’m-not-a-morning-person 10am-6pm schedule.

My anxiety triggers are generally anything to do with motor vehicles, and large groups of people/social situations.  Apparently, so is my body image.  I try to be strong and tough about it, but it is getting more difficult to cope with. 

I work hard to eat healthy. Heck, I eat healthier than most of my thinner friends. Seriously. Not fair? Yeah, I know. Exercise is something I need to work harder to include in my life; I know this. I have heard often that with weight loss, it’s like 80% diet and 20% exercise – so you’d think I’d be able to tackle this better.

Case in point, I am going to start a new chapter of becoming well again.

I’m tired of everything, and changes need to be made.  I’m especially tired of the last few years of being treated like a guinea pig/lab rat by various medical providers. Between the aftermath and effects of being hit by that drunk driver almost 10 years ago, my weight, and multiple misdiagnoses regarding what’s going on in my brain (currently we're down to temporal lobe seizure activity, anxiety, and possible PTSD)… I’ve been medicated off and on with several variations of poison for the last 5 years.  I’ve been put on Dextroamphetamine (Dexedrine), Lamotrigine (Lamictal), Tegretol (Carbamazepine), and the most recent round was Celexa (citalopram) – and it destroyed me.  I gotta tell you, the Lamotrigine and Celexa were the worst. Oh. My. Heck.

My next neurology appointment is in June, with an MRI scheduled during May.  I’m going to call my neurologist next week and tell him I don’t want to be put on any other medication until I see him again. Until then, I will be doing a cleanse and exploring some natural/homeopathic options for the anxiety, which will include working to get my weight down. I can’t control what happens on the roads, or how I react to social situations, but my weight… that’s something I can (with great effort) control. Right? Right???

Wish me luck, send over some prayers, and everything will be OK.

The Healer's Art - A Burden Made Light

On September 25th, 2005 a man in Maryland got in his car after drinking and changed my life forever.

My last memory before waking up with my car crushed like a soda-pop can ready for recycling was of a sign I passed a mile before I was hit. I still remember nothing other than the sound of screetching tires; a sound that is the background music for my nightmares. Investigators deduced from tire marks on the road and my impecable driving record, that my little 1993 4-door Suzuki Swift was stopped at a red light and the man hit me going 65-75 miles per hour with no attempt to slow down; the screetching tires I heard were MY tires.

My right leg is deformed from an unusually large femoral artery hematoma that did not reabsorb as predicted, which turned into a mass of scar tissue nobody really wants to operate on.

I know what it feels like to hit something with such forward force that one's sternum breaks, and the agony of waiting an entire year for the ability to finally breathe, laugh, cough, and sneeze without literally wanting to die.

This is why airbags were invented. Sadly my car didn't have them.

The force of my body bouncing back off the steering wheel broke my seat. I woke up laying down.

The sternum break alone partially disabled me from the waist up for multiple months. I had to buy paper plates and other disposable dishes and utensils because I physically couldn't lift a dish, wash it, and put it in the dish drainer. I can't even describe the torture of basic hygiene tasks; I once sat in my old clawfoot tub for well over an hour bawling because I couldn't figure out how to get up without using my arms.

I bawled through plenty of other embarassing tasks as well.

My stubbornly independent self was compelled to be humble because I was dependent on the kindness of others for many things. Lee, a homeless man in the neighborhood, helped me with my laundry each week at the Laundromat in exchange for pocket change and the opportunity to be indoors with me while we waited for the clothes to get done.

I was fired for the first (and only) time from my job.

I walked about 20 blocks round-trip twice a week through downtown Baltimore's infamous North Avenue, the (or one of the) largest drug-trafficking areas in the nation in order to get to physical therapy because most of the bus drivers refused to serve me due to my white skin.

Yes, that really happened.

I was diagnosed and on medication for 6 months (felt like an eternity) for Bipolar II.  In December 2012 my psychiatrist ordered an EEG on a hunch and discovered I was misdiagnosed.

Turns out I have temporal lobe seizures (primarily caused by traumatic brain injuries) which manifest themselves with emotional/behavioral symptoms often identical to those who suffer from Bipolar, depression, anxiety, etc.

Fortunately the blackouts/unexplained lapses of time I kept experiencing tipped the psychiatrist off that something else was actually going on.

Unfortunately I may never be able to eat grapefruit again (it messes with the seizure meds I'm on).

Even 8+ years later, that one man's poor choice to drink and drive haunts my every waking moment. I have no doubt that it always will.

Do I forgive the man who did this?

Of course. We all make mistakes and poor choices, and we are expected by God to forgive all our trespasses; seventy times seven, and again. I can't argue with that. I also cannot honestly report that forgiveness happened overnight. It was a very slow and emotionally draining process. To my dismay, the proverbial weight of this burden was not made lighter despite the sincerity of my forgiveness years ago.

And then today happened.

One conversation with the right person can be life changing.

You know that light, almost-fluttery, somewhere between excitement and nervousness, breathless feeling you get in the borders of your heart right before tears of joy appear?

Yes, thaaaat feeling.

That is what it feels like; to be relieved of the last chunk of a burden you've been hefting around for exactly 8 years and 6 months to the day.

Joy; this is what true joy must feel like.

I leave you to ponder the message from "Lord, I Would Follow Thee", hymn 220 from the Hymns of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints; my lullaby of March 25, 2014:

Savior, may I learn to love thee,
Walk the path that thou hast shown,
Pause to help and lift another,
Finding strength beyond my own.
Savior, may I learn to love thee— 

Lord, I would follow thee. 

Who am I to judge another
When I walk imperfectly?
In the quiet heart is hidden
Sorrow that the eye can’t see.
Who am I to judge another? 

Lord, I would follow thee.

I would be my brother’s keeper;
I would learn the healer’s art.
To the wounded and the weary
I would show a gentle heart.
I would be my brother’s keeper— 

Lord, I would follow thee.

Savior, may I love my brother
As I know thou lovest me,
Find in thee my strength, my beacon,
For thy servant I would be.
Savior, may I love my brother—

Lord, I would follow thee.

God threw the cherry on top...

Yesterday was an oober bad day.

When your whole day goes kinda rotten, you get to mid-evening and ask God, "Alright, what else do you have coming?  The other shoe has to drop sometime, you gonna let it fall now so I can just get it all over with?"

And then He takes your symbolically Pepto-Bismol Icescream Sundae of a day and throws the cherry on top of it. 

Joe broke up with me on a walk later in the evening.

And that's all I'm going to say about it.  This chapter is closed.

 I fibbed.  I'm a writer, chapters don't close in our world.  I will probably rehash it once in a while.  Respectfully, of course.  I mean, come on, we had good times.  Joe's a great guy.  I still have photos to share from some of our adventures!  

There are good memories and life lessons embedded in this experience and to back me up, Spencer W. Kimball once said, "No pain that we suffer, no trial that we experience is wasted.  It ministers to our education, to the development of such qualities as patience, faith, fortitude, and humility.  All that we suffer and all that we endure, especially when we endure it patiently, builds up our characters, purifies our hearts, expands our souls, and makes us more tender and charitable, more worthy to be called the children of God."

Tomorrow

Well, I have this great blog of the trip dad and I went on to Soldotna recently to pick up my car and... I can't finish it yet. It's a "pictures included" blog entry and blogger.com is experiencing issues with uploading photos at the moment. Argh.

I just wanted to write a little today. I'm waiting for my laundry to finish so I can go to bed and face tomorrow's fun (ha ha) schedule, even though I have the day off from work:

5:15am - Roll out of bed, shower, get dressed, and eat breakfast in no particular order.
6:40am - Brush teeth.
6:45am - Freeze butt off while scraping ice off car windows then leave the house.
7:30am - Check in and do paperwork at Alaska Regional Hospital's front desk.
7:45am - Check in somewhere else and do more paperwork. Wait.
8:00am - MRI scan done on leg where a hematoma (or so we think it is) still resides from being hit by a drunk driver two years ago.
9:00am to 12:50pm - Hunt down, find, and purchase a decent external flash for my camera, a bundle of 800 ISO film, face paints, maybe get a haircut, eat lunch, save the world, clean up, change clothes, yadda yadda yadda.
12:55pm - Brush teeth.
1:00pm - Pray the roads are dry and I'm not clear across town right now.
1:30pm - Meet up with my friend and her fiance to discuss last minute details for their wedding photography and hopefully catch a few cute moments while I'm at it.
4:00pm - Be Ms. Photographer for the wedding and try not to cry.
6:00pm - Change into my costume in preparation for the young single adult Halloween dance out in Eagle River.
6:55pm - Brush teeth.
7:00pm - Hopefully be ready to leave for that dance and maybe arrive early to help set up.
8:00pm - Dance begins. Have fun.
12:00am - Dance ends. Drive home safely.
12:30am - Brush teeth.
12:35am - Crawl into bed and be comatose for the next 7 hours.

Y'know, I used to color-code my daily schedule down to the minute. It lasted maybe a year, then I drove myself crazy. I was thinking about picking up that habit again... and I just remembered why I don't. S-T-R-E-S-S. Such detailed scheduling is good for some, not for all. I travel with the "all" folks on this one.

Speaking of traveling, I had 3 people at a table today visiting from Utah for a few weeks on a job-related trip. They told me they didn't like Alaska. I told them I didn't like Utah.

They left a great tip when they left.

One more point towards the fact that honesty is the best policy. If I had lied and told them how much I loved Utah and that I wanted to go back so bad, they probably would have been able to read the lies in my face. I refuse to lie to people in hopes of getting bigger tips. It's a ludicrous habit and will bite my coworkers in the butt one day.

Ah, the sound of the dryer stopping.... full of warm sheets ready to put on my bed.

Goodnight, I'm outa here!

From disaster to goosebumps of joy... this covers it all.

Sunday morning was disastrous. Saturday evening was pretty frightening too.

I returned home from work around 11pm on Saturday and discovered that the front door was completely unlocked. No big deal except that my parents were out for the weekend... and there were a bunch of rotten apples all over the front entry of the house... and there was a paper ghost and a bag of candy on the front porch... and the dog was whimpering at the back door when I came in the garage. Holy cow, what broke loose? Why can't life just be normal for once. Never. Nada. Nuh-uh. On my time clock, normalcy does not exist.

I would have grabbed the dog and escaped to my friend's house for the night if it weren't for the fact that the parents have a security system on the house. The front door was unlocked, but was (thankfully) neither opened nor entered between the time my parents left the house and the time I returned to it. If it had been... I may have come home to find cops there waiting for me. Wouldn't that have been fun? I mean, 'Wouldn't that have been fun.' It was a statement of sarcasm, not a question. I love the English language.

Rotten apples. Well, uh, there were bags of apples on the front walkway of our house from the lady who shares the back fence. Someone (*cough*DAD*cough*) brought them inside and left them on a seat near the front door. He must have wanted to attract flies because half of them were ROTTEN.

I'm sure the paper ghost and bag of candy was a ding-dong-ditch effort. According to the note, someone at church was continuing a spread-the-holiday-fun tactic and left it on our porch after having the same done to them. For the record, I fully support cool stuff like this. However, the ding-dong part of the fun (and this is my theory) made the dog go crazy. In her crazy state near the door barking her butt off, she must have bumped the seat where the bags of apples were causing them to topple over on her, and all over the front entry way... hence the apple catastrophe and the whimpering dog upon my arrival.

Never ever ever a dull moment. Oh, it gets better.

I calmed the dog, brought the ghost goodies in, and deposited the apples back outside. Order was restored.

Until Sunday morning.

I came downstairs, after having budgeted my sleep to ensure a perfectly timed morning. I walked into the kitchen and -Sploosh! Glossh! Squirsh!- someone installed a pool where the kitchen had been... and doggone it, they forgot to heat it! Brrrr....

The water line to the freezer's ice-maker busted earlier in the week. Luckily, it was while the parents were still up and it flooded, but not TOO much. Dad fixed something the next day and all was well. Sunday morning, apparently it busted again. For all I know, the stupid thing had an aneurysm 2 minutes after I went to sleep and was leaking ALL NIGHT LONG. I spent my morning removing water from the floor and carpet, moving the refrigerator, and being drenched with explosive cold water while trying to reach the shut-off valve.

Again, never a dull moment.

I did everything I could, and managed to get myself out of the house only 20 minutes behind my targeted time. My motivation was the insanity... I had to g-e-t- a-w-a-y.

Upon leaving, I opened the garage and noticed that... it snowed. That very Sunday, October 7th 2007, for the record, was the first snow for Anchorage, Alaska this year. It was a mere light dusting, but hey, nearly 2 days later it's still here. It makes me almost proud that it is so hardy, yet at the same time I'm upset. I was hoping it would hold out at least another 2 weeks before any snow set foot here at sea level. Grrrrr. I mean, 'Brrrrrr'. Nope, I do mean, 'Grrrrrrr'.

Keep reading after the photos....

So, despite all the happenings of the weekend, it was an excellent one. Sunday I was really cheerful after I was able to leave the house. Y'know, lately I have been in a great mood, wonderful even.... and it just occurred to me that the title of my blog itself may just seem appropriately applicable at this moment. Oooh, I have goosebumps. You see, I have begun dating a very nice guy up here. He's different. He's cautious, careful, charitable, and considerate. He loves his family and has a good relationship with them. He's respectful and chivalrous. He listens, but he can also hold his own in a conversation. He's thoughtful and kind. He's honest, and voices his opinion. Best of all at the moment... his presence, his light, in my life is causing me to smile a whole lot, to feel happy, joyful, and elated.

Indeed, "One person can make a difference"...

Home Again.

It has been quite a while since I have written. I'd apologize, but I'm not really that sorry. It's MY blog, and MY writing schedule... I will write when I feel like it, I won't when I don't. Done deal.

After living between Utah and Maryland since June 2003, I have finally returned home to Alaska.

My new motto: I don't belong anywhere South of Canada.

I returned home on August 29th. My parents couldn't cancel their travel plans after I called off the wedding so they came out and visited for the heck of it instead. I enjoyed having them in my domain, meeting my friends and "adopted" family, and watching them squirm on the Washington D.C. Beltway... only my most favorite road to travel.

My father returned to Alaska earlier than my mom, which gave us some time to travel North and visit her family in Upstate New York. I drove us up there, and I drove us back from there... and we managed not to kill each other. We even spent a fair amount of time laughing our tails off, admiring handsome men from the Middle East (New Jersey is full of 'em), and talking trash about toll roads. It was beautiful.

I wasn't sorry when I left Utah in 2004, not one bit. However, I am sad to have left the life I had in Maryland. I grew close to some of the most amazing people ever, whom I love so dearly. I learned a lot, drove a lot, laughed a lot, cried a lot, worked a lot, loved a lot, hurt a lot, changed a lot... Maryland is a very little state but, as you can see, it has a LOT of potential.

Alaska has a lot to offer too. First and foremost, it's home. I know my upcoming experiences back home will also be filled with a lot of learning, driving, laughing, crying, working, loving, hurting, and changing... because that's what life is all about. Well, maybe not the driving, but if you've ever lived in the Maryland/D.C. area you understand how lengthy drives become an indisputable part of life. I learned that I do my best thinking while I'm in the car... therefore, it's a hefty part of my life.

That's it for today. I pray this finds many people doing well.

Joanna

"...you'll look back at photos of yourself and recall in a way you can't grasp now how much possibility lay before you..."

Remember that sunscreen "song" (advise put to music) that used to play on the radio all the time? Randomly at work today it popped into my head. It's quite a clear-cut good message... and I'm inviting whomever to take a few minutes to listen carefully to it again.

Turn on your comptuer's speakers, click on the link, and feel free to read along, as I have included the words below.


http://www.barminski.com/frame/sunscreen.html


Wear sunscreen.


If I could offer you only one tip for the future, sunscreen would be it. The long-term benefits of sunscreen have been proved by scientists, whereas the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable than my own meandering experience. I will dispense this advice now.


Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth. Oh, never mind. You will not understand the power and beauty of your youth until they've faded. But trust me, in 20 years, you'll look back at photos of yourself and recall in a way you can't grasp now how much possibility lay before you and how fabulous you really looked. You are not as fat as you imagine.


Don't worry about the future. Or worry, but know that worrying is as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing bubble gum. The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind, the kind that blindside you at 4 p.m. on some idle Tuesday.


Do one thing every day that scares you.


Sing.


Don't be reckless with other people's hearts. Don't put up with people who are reckless with yours.


Floss.


Don't waste your time on jealousy. Sometimes you're ahead, sometimes you're behind. The race is long and, in the end, it's only with yourself.


Remember compliments you receive. Forget the insults. If you succeed in doing this, tell me how.


Keep your old love letters. Throw away your old bank statements.


Stretch.


Don't feel guilty if you don't know what you want to do with your life. The most interesting people I know didn't know at 22 what they wanted to do with their lives. Some of the most interesting 40-year-olds I know still don't.


Get plenty of calcium. Be kind to your knees. You'll miss them when they're gone.


Maybe you'll marry, maybe you won't. Maybe you'll have children, maybe you won't. Maybe you'll divorce at 40, maybe you'll dance the funky chicken on your 75th wedding anniversary. Whatever you do, don't congratulate yourself too much, or berate yourself either. Your choices are half chance. So are everybody else's.


Enjoy your body. Use it every way you can. Don't be afraid of it or of what other people think of it. It's the greatest instrument you'll ever own.


Dance, even if you have nowhere to do it but your living room.


Read the directions, even if you don't follow them.


Do not read beauty magazines. They will only make you feel ugly.


Get to know your parents. You never know when they'll be gone for good. Be nice to your siblings. They're your best link to your past and the people most likely to stick with you in the future.


Understand that friends come and go, but with a precious few you should hold on. Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography and lifestyle, because the older you get, the more you need the people who knew you when you were young.


Live in New York City once, but leave before it makes you hard. Live in Northern California once, but leave before it makes you soft.


Travel.


Accept certain inalienable truths: Prices will rise. Politicians will philander. You, too, will get old. And when you do, you'll fantasize that when you were young, prices were reasonable, politicians were noble and children respected their elders.


Respect your elders.


Don't expect anyone else to support you. Maybe you have a trust fund. Maybe you'll have a wealthy spouse. But you never know when either one might run out.


Don't mess too much with your hair or by the time you're 40 it will look 85.


Be careful whose advice you buy, but be patient with those who supply it. Advice is a form of nostalgia. Dispensing it is a way of fishing the past from the disposal, wiping it off, painting over the ugly parts and recycling it for more than it's worth.


But trust me on the sunscreen.


Originally titled "Advice, like youth, probably just wasted on the young" written by Mary Schmich in 1997 and published in the Chicago Tribune.

Sharing some thoughts...

I once wrote, "...there's a reason and a season for everything. As to what's gonna happen in the next six months... year... 5 years... it's in God's hands. I'm just gonna go with the flow."

I still stand behind that 100%.

Over the last few years I've been through a lot... good and bad... and if I had it all to do over, I wouldn't change one thing. We, each of us, are on a great adventure called LIFE. Some patches are rough and seemingly unbearable. Others are easy breazy and silky smooth. Without one, we wouldn't know and appreciate the other. Opposition in all things is a necessity for understanding and gaining the capability to live life to the fullest.

I have been blessed with a good family, and I love them very much. I am so very grateful for my friends and the blessings they are in my life. Being so far away from home, my friends don't just feel like family... they ARE family... and I love it.

I am grateful for God, my Heavenly Father, The Man Upstairs... whatever one chooses to call Him... He is always there for us, His children. He watches over us and guides us, but allows us to make our own choices. Whenever I may feel lonely, it's not God who has stepped away from me... if there's ever any distance... it's mine.

I know that our elder brother, Jesus Christ, created this wonderful and beautiful world for us under the direction of our Heavenly Father. I know that He came to this world a mere mortal babe and grew to a mighty man who worked endless miracles, blessed the children, and who died for all mankind to be saved from physical and spiritual death... the latter dependent upon our own 'performance' and what we carry in our hearts while here on earth.

Take care, and God bless.

We are equal.

On Saturday two boys came into the photo studio asking for hard candy. They could have been up to trouble or just being pesky... but I had a feeling they were seeking to help someone having a diabetic attack.

I was right.

There was a woman sitting on the bench outside the studio who was very ill, I could tell by the sound of her voice. I had scrounged up some hard candy from my coworkers and she already had one dissolving in her mouth.

The boys who came in for the candy were absent from the scene. I inquired as to whether or not she knew them.

She didn't.

Their mother had noticed this woman's pailing face and lethargic countenance and recognized what was going on. The boys came in for sugar while the mom sat with her.

I made a comment about how great it was that even in Waldorf, Maryland, there are kind and wonderful people still left in the world.

"Oh, I'm not from here," the woman said. "I'm from Tennessee."

I shared that I'm from Alaska and then added that I went to school for a bit in Utah and how I am so glad to be back in such culturally diverse surroundings since Utah was just too white for me.

Open mouth, insert foot.

She looked at me and said, "That's what I'm used to. This... this is not the place for me. I'm so uncomfortable here. I can't wait to be back home."

How terribly sad I was the rest of my shift that night. The boys that came into the studio and literally saved this woman's life by finding some hard candy for her were nice, polite, helpful, kind, and... beautifully colored.

If only she could see that and grasp onto it... that it makes no difference what appearance a person has, we're all people who are equal in every way.

Public Information

What gives an organization the idea to put the date, time, and location of a strictly private executive meeting in the community calendar section of the local newspaper???

Yeah, I don't know either.

I went through a quarter tank of gas to cover a NAACP meeting this evening for an article due in my journalism class. I have attempted to cover other meetings for weeks but lo, they were all canceled or their dates were published incorrectly. Finally I find one that interests me (a bonus, not a requirement by any means) and was still happening (I checked with the library) and... they tell me to leave.

Thank you very much America. Some public information just shouldn't be public.

And for the record, I left a message at the number I called previously, apologizing for trying to attend a private meeting. I explained why I was confused about the public vs. private status and mentioned that I'd do my best to visit one of the regular public NAACP meetings... which I will.

No wonder...

A two-year-old child should not be expected to act angelic 24/7.

A couple brought their child to my photo studio to get pictures taken the other day. The kid wasn't on his best behavior, whatever. He wouldn't smile on cue, but what 2-year-old does?

So, because of this kid's non-perfect behavior, his mom starts yelling at him telling him he's full of ****. Then turns to her boyfriend and tells him the kid's full of ****. Then turns to me and tells me he's full of ****. Then tells the kid he's full of **** again. And...

And I looked at her and said, "Ah, no wonder the kid won't smile."

I would have sent the mom and her beau out of the camera room if it hadn't been for the young age of the child. I can't believe how he was being treated.

I swear (actually, I don't swear. Those were just asterisks I typed in).... ok, on to my point... I swear I will never treat any child with such disrespect as I have seen in the last few months at the studio. I'll one-up that... I will never treat any human being with such disrespect as I have witnessed at work recently.

They say being a parent doesn't come with a handbook... I think in many instances and for many people out there... IT SHOULD!

Melted Tar on the Sidewalk

So I haven't written in quite a long while. Sorry, I happen to be keeping busy lately and doggone-it, I like it.

I felt inspired to write this random evening because I had an interesting experience while searching for ant-traps at a store today.

As I walked through the store I kept seeing these women dressed in long sleeves and black smocks with white bonnet-like head coverings. My guess was that they were Amish. Not wanting to jump to conclusions but being terribly curious, I decided to introduce myself to one of the ladies who looked about my age and start a conversation.

Let's just say, I'm not very smooth.

Me: "Hi, I'm Joanna."

Her: [Silence]

Me: "So... could I ask you a question?"

Her: [Silence]

Me: "What religion do you claim?"

Her: "What?"

Finally she said something!

Me: "Uh.... why do you wear the..." [Tugging at my own shirt indicating I'm referring to her smock because for the life of me I don't know what to call it.]

Her: "It's just something we do."

Dang it! She doesn't understand what I'm getting at.

Me: "I'm young, I'm stupid, so I'm just gonna ask... Are you Amish?"

Her: "Yes."

Me: "Wow. Where are you from?"

Her: "Somewhere around mid-Southern Maryland."

Me: "Do you use automotive vehicles?"

Her: "We use buggies."

Me: "You drove a horse and buggy here?"

Where the heck did they park?

Her: "No, a driver brought us here."

At this point another similarly dressed woman, older, steps beside the woman I have been chatting with and silently stares at me as if I am melted tar on the sidewalk.

Me: "Oh, ok."

[Awkward pause]

Me: "So you live off your land right?"

Her: "Yes."

Me: "That must be great."

Her: "It is."

Me: "What do you do in the winter when you can't grow fresh produce?"

Her: "We can food in the summer. Makes for a busy summer but it gets us through the winter."

Me: "I guess that makes sense. I wish the rest of society could live so simply."

Her: "It is good."

Me: "Well, thanks for talking with me. Be careful driving home."

I guess I don't have to say much after this... you can tell what a dork I am.