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Why do people blow their noses..

On Herald Hippo

like they would like their brains to end up in the tissue?

Honestly, for me it's unbelievable. Imagine sitting in the office. Quite a calm environment when BAM! you hear it. The horn blows. We are making a competition in the office among us expats to see who can take it to the end..In case you are wondering "to take what?" it's easy: to resist the urge of not feeling so sick that you will need the restroom.

I searched on the internet for a plausible explanation. Not any found by now.

Czechs blow their noses really loud and no matter where they are. Be it a public transport or a restaurant and this is not considered to be impolite. BUT..they say hello and goodbye. Aww that makes you feel so special doesn't it? It's more offensive to forget the goodbye part than to blow your nose like a trumpet in public. And then shake hands...

We did also a trial..let's see if we can make it. I thought my brain will explode. As much as I tried I felt like an elephant that had the trump made in a node. My momma taught me: blow one nostril, then the other..no noise. If you really have to do it in public, be discrete. It happens when I am at lunch or dinner to need a bit of cleaning but I do my best not to get noticed and get others disgusted. Still it could be considered even so, as being rude. Not for a Czech :).

THIS ROAD WILL BE

On Reviving Roses

Originally Posted: Wednesday, August 19, 2009

I wish I had taken a picture, but my mind was elsewhere.

The day started out like any other day. Well, not really. I switched shifts with someone at work, so that I was working earlier because we had dinner plans with friends. The one day that I work in the morning, I over sleep. We slept until 11:39, it's out of the ordinary for me to sleep that late and absolutely unheard of for Justin to sleep past 9 (at the VERY latest). I was supposed to be at work at 11:30. I rush to get there, making it at about noon. Not a good start to a not so good day.

The work day goes by, slow and boring. I stay late for the hostess after I get cut from serving. When I come home, something is different. I can't put my finger on what, but when I sit down with Cadence I start to cry. I compose myself, take a shower, and start to head to the grocery store for dinner supplies. Justin, and our good friend Anthony, pull up right as I'm pulling out. I, again, start to cry because I'm worried about our baby (even after the great week she's had, something is different. Something is wrong).

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