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I hope you hang on to my posts like I did to this tree. By the way, climbing is fun. You should try it sometime.
 

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The Problem with Beauty

I never understood my mother's strong aversion to pageantry of any sort when I was a kid. While my friends contested in my school's beauty and brain's pageant, I braved the waters of spelling bees, recitals and math competitions.  Now, let's get one thing straight, the recitals were the only things I ever won. I didn't make it past second round in the math!  However, I learnt a valuable lesson. "Not to  rely on my face". I learnt I should rely on my head instead. Now I'm older, I realize why she did it. I would have probably ended up a VERY vain person.  This didn't stop me cheering my friends though! They were awesome people! Now, I find myself tending towards the rougher, more manual things in life. I don't care for make up or even lip balm.  However, I'm far from a tomboy.  What am I trying to say? My mother taught not to rely on my face, and I'm proud of it.  
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Overdramatic much?

  "Herma! Herma!"  My younger yelled at the top of his lungs running to me at full speed. I was worried. What on earth could be wrong? "The water filter needs to be changed." He said. This was a problem of epic proportions.  If the filter was bad, then that meant that dirt came out of the taps with regular water. Simply put, the water was impure. My brother was panicking. I was panicking. Hold on a moment. How did he know the water was impure now? I asked him as much and he showed me a sieve. It had a speck of dirt the size of my fingernail. I panicked for dirt the size of a fingernail??? They say don't blame the messenger I guess there are exceptions to every rule.
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The Church Catwalk

  Picture this. You are walking towards the teens church. You hear the music pouring out of the room- praise and worship has started. Or worse, there's no music. It's totally silent- preaching is about to begin. You take a deep breath knowing what is about to come.  You lift your head high... or drive your chin into your chest (depending on your personality) and... walk in. Then it happens.  It's like everyone you pass pauses to look at you. It's worse when the place is silent save the voice of the preacher and the 'click' resulting from your shoe hitting the hard floor. It's like a million fashion critics  are observing a model as she struts down the runway in the dress her designer prepared.  You can feel the tension from both the model and the designer.  The desire not to trip, the determination to pretend as if they are not affected.  Leave the catwalk.  It's not more than ten people staring and I'm feeling that pressure in church just because...
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