My grampa had his hip replaced yesterday.  Everything went really well.  He's needed it for a long time, especially lately because he had barely been able to walk the past few months.  My mom, Kay, and I went to the hospital with him yesterday morning, and Mom and I were in the waiting room (Kay works at the hospital) and then spent the day with him.  He would never have asked us or said anything about it, but he was really glad that we were with him.  He was so scared before he went in.  I hate when he is in the hospital - he looks so little.  But after he had coffee and lunch, he started to perk up a lot.  So everything is okay!

I really cannot understand my grandmother.  It's one thing for her not to go to the hospital - it was probably better that she didn't anyway because when he had his heart attack, she just caused trouble - but to try and get us to stay home and to put on the whole "I'm not feeling well" rouse to excuse not visiting or bringing his suitcase, that's just ridiculous.  I've come not to expect a lot from anyone in my family, especially concerning things that are important to other people, but my grandmother is just downright mean sometimes.  And of course, I have to open my big mouth and say something to her, and start yet another war that's pointless to be involved in.  I'm not spending a month sleeping in the living room with her.  I'll sleep on Kay's floor or in the garage or outside - anything.

I tried for a really long time to be understanding and supportive because I know a lot of it stems from jealousy and resentment toward my grampa and my mom.  But treating me and Kay the way she does and saying the things she does to us.  And after she started that whole thing last time they were here, I told her I was finished with all of this and I meant it.  I hate feeling this way toward my own grandmother, but sometimes you just have to let things go and realize that there is only so much you can do before the ball is in the other person's court.  And if they're not willing to do anything to change, then you just have to let go and move on to things that are actually working in your life.  I don't have that much longer to spend with my family, and I would really like to do it with the least amount of melodrama possible.  And if that means not dealing with her and her shenanigans, then so be it.

All right, so I need to figure out why I'm procrastinating on this Peace Corps thing so I can deal with it, go get my blood test, send that shit in, and actually get out of this place.

Potential Reasons:

1.  I do not really want to go.

Well, this is definitely not the reason.  I have wanted to do this my entire life.  In fact, I have planned my entire life up until this point around going to Africa.  When I was little and things were rough and I hated life, I sat there and dreamed of this.  Some days, the idea that it might actually one day occur was the only thing that kept me going.  I do want to go, that much I know.

2.  I'm afraid of being alone in Africa.

Also not my problem.  Although I'm going to miss my family and friends (okay, well mostly my friends), I've been doing the back and forth thing for the past four years.  I came here with NOTHING and NO ONE, but I made a life for myself and found people that have become my surrogate family.  I know I can do that again.  I know I have the ability to find a niche and a life for myself no matter where I go.  There are slight differences -- I'll be on a completely different continent, probably no one will speak English -- but I've already done it the easy way and been successful, so I'm positive that I'm up for this challenge.

3.  I'm afraid I'm going to screw up.

Ding, ding, ding.  I think we've found our winner.  I'm going to be in this country all by myself - there are not going to be other volunteers with me, there is going to be no direction for me.  I have to come up with projects and ideas for an entire village of people by myself.  Clyde said this to me, and I know it's true: there's very little chance that I could screw up an area more than it already is.  These people know how to survive, they are just looking to have their qualities of life improved.  As I said, I know this is true.  But all my life, I've never really tried and persevered at anything that was REALLY hard for me.  People think I work hard all the time, especially in school.  But you know what?  I don't.  I'm scared to death of trying something and failing.  So I work hard and do well in the things I already have an inclination for.  I didn't do well in Economics, even in college until I starting taking the classes that were easy for me.  There were no nights that I stayed up cramming information into my head and trying over and over to understand complex theories.  If I didn't get it when I read it the first time, I gave up.  If I took a class that was hard and I just couldn't get (Micro Theory, Linear Algebra, Differential Equations), I found a million things to blame it on (the professor, the text, the kid who sat next to me and chewed on his pencil).  But this, this is going to be hard and I'm afraid I'm going to get there and panic, and give up before I even get started.  I've been reciting Teddy Roosevelt over and over in my head:

"Far better it is to dare mighty things, to win glorious triumphs even though checkered by failure, than to rank with those poor spirits who neither enjoy nor suffer much because they live in the gray twilight that knows neither victory nor defeat."

I have to do this, for myself.  If I chicken out now, after everything I have gone through to get to this place, I will never forgive myself.  I have spent my entire life railing against my mother, who has always taken the easy way out and only done the things that she already knew she could do.  If I don't do this because I'm scared, then I really am just like her.  I think it's time for me to kick my butt into gear and stop dreaming about it because the time is actually here and I can finally make it a reality.  Maybe if I keep quote Teddy Roosevelt in my head enough times, I'll actually start to believe that...

My sister, upon hearing that I had been accepted into the Peace Corps:

The only way I ever plan to actually contact you again, if you go… is if you bring me back a real LIVE lion named Simba.

 

Good luck and happy hunting.