Girl Heroes

I'd heard about attacks on girls going to school in Afghanistan: men spraying acid on the faces of girls (and teachers) on their way to school. What I hadn't heard was the growing resistance to their message.

"My parents told me to keep coming to school even if I am killed," said Shamsia, 17, in a moment after class. Shamsia's mother, like nearly all of the adult women in the area, is unable to read or write. "The people who did this to me don't want women to be educated. They want us to be stupid things."

The families of these girls urge them to return to school. Only a handful haven't since the attacks. Bookworm that I am, I'm not sure I would have been as brave at 17.

Exhausted, And It's Not Even Noon

I have just spent the last two hours filling out various application forms for jobs. Curiously, despite the fact that I've done this on my computer with all the wonders of auto-fill and cut and paste at my fingers, this doesn't seem to get any easier as you go from one form to the next. Part of it is that they're all slightly different from each other, so you can't get complacent and work on automatic. Part of it is that some of them want long philosophical digressions about what your goals are (feed my children? cure cancer? not hate myself or the people I work with?). And part of it is that this is just such a draining and drubbing process.

Yeah, I know. Me and 3 million other souls in the country right now. I think I'll go drag the dog and feel productive.

AhhhVocado

On the way back from the orthodontist and getting some frozen yogurt, Avocado decided I was stressed (well, I had refused to wander the supermarket aisles aimlessly, pondering the question of dinner--mostly because I really, really had to get home and pee). So when we got home she decided she was making dinner. Moreover, she gave me a facial mask, a pedicure and footbath, and I'm now sitting on my bed watching NCIS reruns and drinking ginger-oolong tea.

Nice child, sometimes.