Cory, Owning this jacket doesn’t mean you can pick up smoking and buy a motorcycle.  Get over it.

Dumpster Diving Dirty Santa Party, Best. Idea. Ever.  Here’s what we walked away with:
•    An ornament made of lent wrapped in a dryer sheet
•    MRE…yum
•    Crunk cup from Pottery Barn dumpster
•    Robin’s mask
•    A wet shoe
•    Broken glass
•    A shoebox full of lists found behind Wal-Mart
Yeah, and people who have those “Tacky Christmas Sweater” parties think they’re soooo cool.

Highway Patrolman, What a nice little chat we got to have on the side of the Cherokee Turnpike.  As delightful as it was, I hope I never see you again.

Olive Garden, Welcome to the neighborhood!  Now if you would please invite your friends…wink wink Barnes and Noble, On the Border, and Nordaggios.

One-legged 50lb Wrestler, What’s up with you beating my little cousin?  He had nothing to hold on to!

Patagonia Reversible Shoe Box, Shoe box?  More like Amazingly Fabulous Wonder Box. You’re an ecologically brilliant idea and an inspiration to every other shoemaker who peddles their goods in tacky one-use-only-sad-excuse-for-a-box boxes.  The shoes that came inside are pretty cool too.

Siloam Springs, Good seeing you again.  Love the new look (read: Casino! Movie Theater! Maurices!).  You know I’ll be back in about 6 months since that seems to be the max I can live without you.

Snow Days, No matter how old I am, you’ll always be my favorite kind of days.  And definitely one of the top 10 reasons why being a teacher is the best profession in the world.

Stuffed Snowmen on Stage for Church Christmas Choir Performance, One question—Why?

Team Tight Ends, Well played.  You were a worthy Fantasy Football Playoffs adversary.  If only you could have joined me on my celebratory trip to Disney World.  Can’t wait for next season.

Tom Cruise, I’m moving you down from #4 to #6 on the list of Actors Who Annoy Me So Much I Refuse To See Their Movies.  Valkyrie rocked.  Too bad your wife is still in my top 3.

USPS, 6 boxes from Owasso to Bamako in 13 days!  Are you kidding me?  Next time I’m going to ship myself in a flat rate box and save on airfare.  A huge thank you from me and some very grateful missionaries.

W, I was unaware you were able to use your phone to call me.  10 points for the frequency of calls and wittiness of conversation.  Another 20 points for the real date we actually had.  And, a whopping 1000 points for diamonds in the Christmas present.

Wireless Printer, Where have you been all my life?  I might have just printed today’s To Do list.  Because I can.

Alphabetically filling in the blank is always theraputic. Try it.

–A

How did I let it come to this? There are more boxes of Jell-O than days left in Mali! At first I begged for you fill my empty cupboards. Graciously my friends and relatives hightailed it to their local Wal-Marts with shopping lists that resembled that of a panicked Y2K schizophrenic. Cotton balls, Cheez-its, Oust, marshmallow cream, bicycle seat, tampons, Rotel, flashlight, honey, dryer sheets, walnuts, industrial sized can of processed cheese.

After that scavenger hunt came the contemptible workings of the post office. You have no idea how much trouble you innocently cause, box of brownie mix and bag of M&M’s. Thirty-seven dollars for an 11″ x 8.5″ x 5.5″ box! And the friendly smile behind the counter has the audacity to claim you’ll be anywhere in the world in 6-10 days. What false hope! Alas, in 3-4 weeks I find you in the corner of our “post office” and must again pay $4 per box to retrieve you.

The next move is crucial: inventory. No, it’s not just for Thank-you note purposes. I have reasonable grounds for counting every packet of oatmeal and bag of Skittles. Rationing. All items must be spread out depending on the amount of time left in this depleted land. Oreos: 1 every other day. Pumpkin puree: 4 pies’ worth. Cereal: a bowl each Sunday before church. Potpourri plug-ins: 2 outlets, change every 3 months. Reese’s peanut butter cups: emergency use only.

Yet here I am with 55 days left and my system in ruins. I greedily hoarded you as long as I could, throwing out the counsel of my missionary friends who advised me to consume you immediately upon arrival. Instead, I counted and strategized and Ziplocked you up.

With cabinets full and 2 months to go, I don’t have time to eat you all individually at my hoarder’s pace. So I find myself each evening at allrecipes.com dueling against the INGREDIENT SEARCH. Let’s see, any recipes for pistachio pudding and cranberry sauce or maybe olives, tuna, and spaghetti sauce mix?

I give up and shoot the I’m-sorry-I-suck-at-being-a-homemaker look to my roommate-brother, “Coco Puffs or Easy-Mac tonight?” (I love you Coco Puffs, but I secretly hope he says Easy-Mac so I don’t have to mix up some milk.) It’s not limited to dinner. Our sack lunches consist of beef jerky, yogurt raisins, and lime Jell-O. Birthday presents for students and friends aren’t fragrant candles or even cash. They’re Hershey’s bars and bags of Doritos. Anything to get rid of you before your expiration date or our departure date.

This isn’t how it was supposed to be. I was supposed to savor you on the tough Africa days, let you remind me of home when the countdown seemed too far away. Now I’m monstrously devouring you without regard to my precious inventory. How did I let it come to this?