You complete me.  Break out those mirrors because it’s time for some healthy reflection.

12:00am–Date with 007
All I needed was a stomach full of Taco Bueno and my four favorite guy friends to truly enjoy Bond.  Ah, magical!  I melt in the presence of tuxedos, fast cars, and British accents.  And I progress to full-on swooning when they include Daniel Craig.

7:15am—Apply new hair products
Christmas come early for my newly cut locks.  Paul Mitchell is a genius.  My friend Sydney is an artist disguised as a hair stylist.  And wholesale hair products are forever to be praised.  Here’s what I’m lovin: Paul Mitchell Extra-Body daily boost, Super Skinny Serum, Spray Wax, and Extra-Body Firm Finishing Spray.

7:45am—Realize that the new jeans I’m wearing would be perfect for someone 0.8cm shorter than me.
On my latest Gap splurge, I bought 2 pairs of jeans that I thought I looked amazingly hot in.  DENIED.  My highwater status gave me flashbacks of my Wal-Mart tapered leg Chic jeans from elementary school.  I consulted with my 7th grade fashionista students who said they were indeed too short.  They may not know how to solve two-step equations, but they know jeans.

8:00-2:20—Work at my real job
Substituting is a real job.  Some people argue that it isn’t.  They clearly have never subbed before.  No time for a soapbox, moving on.

9:45—Build hometown appreciation by scanning Police Beat of Owasso Reporter.
What we don’t put in the Welcome to Owasso brochure:
•    Follow Up – reported at PD. She did a report of ID theft, someone bought a diamond ring on Ebay with her information and she just got the ring in the mail. Report.
•    Theft Report – Other, Hibbet Sport. Advised she just interviewed an employee who admitted to embezzling money. Handled
•    Check Person – Lady at door who seems disoriented and lost, white female with brown hair, white shirt, has bible in hand. Handled.

12:18—Discuss future job opportunities with principal. Walk on clouds dreaming of what my first bulletin board will look like and how I’ll arrange the desks in my room.  Return to reality when I realize I’m not yet certified in this state and currently wearing a Substitute badge.

12:23-12:35—Establish life-saving peace treaty and resolve all conflict in Girl World. Big surprise, it was about a boy.

2:45—Finalize Fantasy Football lineup and convince myself that I’ll start my homework in 5 minutes. This has pretty much been the trend since Week 1 when I had my first taste of victory and fell in love with my team.  Homework is meaningless when I’ve got a trade pending and a wide receiver with a bum shoulder.  Priorities people.  Get them straight.

3:00-5:00—Naptime!

5:30—Super Suppers pickup. My temporarily homebound grandparents are now big fans of this handy meals-to-go business that makes you feel like you cooked dinner, but didn’t.  It’s also perfect for someone who’s too good for TV dinners but not Betty Crocker enough to make their own meals.

7:00-9:30—Friday Night Football, brought to you by Round 1 of the OSSAA 6A Playoffs. Ugh, I could dedicate an entire blog to football.  Friday night I dedicated two and a half hours to the 6-4 Owasso Rams.  Wrapped in a blanket and frozen to a metal bench, I watched my last high school football game of the season.  Sorry, football makes me emotional.  And a regrettably loud fan.

9:50—Role Models…Take 2
The only thing better than seeing Role Models is seeing it the second time with my brother.  Here’s a sample for all the Starbucks snobs.

Danny: Can I get a large black coffee?
Barista: A what?
Danny: Large black coffee.
Barista: Do you mean a venti?
Danny: No, I mean a large.
Barista: Venti is large.
Danny: No venti is twenty. Large is large. In fact tall is large and grande is Spanish for large. Venti is the    only one that doesn’t mean large. It’s also the only one that’s Italian. Congratulations you’re stupid in three languages.
Barista: A venti is a large coffee.
Danny: Really says who, Fellini? Do you accept lira or is it all euros now?

If only every day were Friday.  Gratefully,
A

I don’t blame you for asking, and I’m sorry if you’re tired of hearing “It’s great!” every time you ask. So here is a glimpse into how it’s all come together since stepping off the plane almost 2 weeks ago.

Free stuff rocks. I’ll take a chic haircut and vintage desk please.

• When you’re friends with someone who is interviewing for a job at a trendy new salon, you’re eligible for a free cut and style. Thank you Sydney! And my apologies for jerking my head when you burned me with the straightener.
• When you partake in the amazing wonder that is Freecycle, you can own an amazingly cool vintage typing desk. Technically, it wasn’t free because my way-too-generous father insisted on giving the woman $10 for delivering it to our house.

It’s cold. However, this does not mean the air conditioning should be turned off. Cory and I have the habit of turning off the AC in the mornings when we wake up with icicle feet. Our parents spend the rest of the day lowering the thermostat and making comments about how dad-blasted-hot these Oklahoma summers are. Meanwhile, Cory and I sit cozy in the 80-degree house. Usually by late afternoon they realize we’ve had the AC off all day. Then we get lectured. And remember why living in Mali was much simpler.

A Taco Bueno party burrito is the best investment I can make in my own well being.

I am an unfit mother. My parents were out of town for less than 24 hours, yet I managed to roast our dogs and traumatize the bird. Apparently the former is very accustomed to a climate-controlled environment and the latter doesn’t thrive in darkness (read: blankets covering its cage) all day. This is reason #492 why children are not in my near future.

Daytime television has an uncontrollable power over my soul. Or at least a mysterious mastery over how I spend my time every afternoon. While cleaning or reading or categorizing souvenirs, my soundtrack has become the sensuous stories of the OC or One Tree Hill. And of course daily attendance at the church of Oprah is required at 4:00 sharp.

Lesson learned: When it’s your first day on the job as a secretary (glorified phone answerer), you should constantly repeat the name of the company you work for so you don’t answer the phone with “Uhhh…” followed by a mumbled version of the business’s name who signs your paychecks .

Phone accessibility with the parents has quite obviously changed. Last night they called just to ask about the doubles rule in the card game Egyptian Rat Slap.

Daily trips to Wal-Mart are essential in the journey to become truly American. An aside to the patrons of the Owasso Wal-Mart: Please look in the mirror before you leave your residence to shop our local Cheap and Plenty Store. No one wants to see all that.

I have friends! In Mali I had convinced myself that my evenings in America would consist of sitting at home alone eating popcorn chicken and/or shrimp and petting my cat. To my surprise, there is actually a swell group of young folks here to keep me social and further away from my spinster cat-collecting season of life.

Vacation Bible School still has watered down Kool-Aid and songs with ridiculous hand motions. (P.S. It was my 3rd year as the official missionary of VBS. This missionary name tag is apparently superglued on.)

Some things never change. Even after two years, the elderly Sunday greeter at church still talks of setting me up with his grandson who went to Kenya. And so as not to play favorites, he has found a lovely girl for my brother. She’s the teller at his bank. And on greeting my grandpa after arriving, he casually mentioned that he’d like me to meet the music guy at his church. Good thing my brother made a Sister Pact tonight with his 2 friends who each have single sisters. Apparently one of them already called dibs on me. How flattering.

Church is the best place to catch up on all the gossip. Apparently 2 of my friends got divorced (both my age or younger), one is finally prego, and another is expecting again.

The family that exercises together…hmmm…enjoys Sonic Chocolate Oreo Blasts together? How reaffirming it is when all of your family members agree that a one hour work out at the YMCA entitles everyone to splurge on Sonic’s fine selection of iced beverages.

I miss Mali everyday. But maybe a little less everyday. When I look at the clock I automatically add 5 hours and think of what it looks like in Bamako at that moment, what my friends and students are doing, what I would have been doing. And as I’m snapped back from this vision of My Africa Life, my heart breaks a little. It’s like a long distance relationship. And we all know how much those suck.

A deep fear runs through my typing fingers that my post-Mali life will be too boring to blog about. Seriously, what am I doing here? I’m sorting through piles of forgotten items. Books I ordered in hopes that my leisurely American life would afford me plenty of reading time. Brand new Busted Tees t-shirts that I couldn’t stand to be ruined by the harsh washing and wear of Mali. Cutsie summer dresses that I bought on clearance last Christmas thinking of all the non-church events where can show more than my wrists and ankles. Sorting and eating and texting and shopping and the occasional Zumba class at the Y.

It’s not orphanages and translating and taxi rides with chickens. It’s not hearing the whining goats, drinking bissap, and eating mangoes. Because this isn’t Mali. And that’s ok.

I watched a 15-minute fireworks show tonight celebrating this great place I get to live in for an undetermined amount of time. And it’s actually more than great to be back.

Growing a little weary of answering the question with just “great,”
Amber