Something hurts,
But in the midst of everything,
I can't find the source.
The humor, the outgoing light.
It surrounds me, yet I can't dance to the same beat.
Am I selfish to want to love without boundaries and rules?
I want to fish out of the pond with you,
to search for grub,
To bait your hook,
I want to "accidently" push you in..
But then a sting, once more, another,
The bees stop our bit of fun,
But then, what's the point of fishing when there's no fish in the pond?
I did it to be with you.
I pushed so you would pull me in too.
I danced so you would laugh and sing too loudly.
This is the meaning for the reason.
The reason that is stronger than the heart that I hold--
Someone tried to find the tangible accompaniment.
But they found themselves lost in the pleasure of it all.
I am here to remind them.
That LOVE is more than that.
Tried and true, I've frolicked through that field.
But you know it's true, This IS the reason.
I amount to this--
When the echoes of your voice decays
And I still let my body sway
To the memory of your voice
And your words, to me,
Only to me,
Then the silence corrupts my eyes
It falls out
I can't erase the words, either way.
And I don't want to, either way.
Agony.
Bliss.
Only way to mix is this--
"I love you"
"Bye"
Saturday, January 30, 2010
Relations, Frustrations, and Communications
Thursday started early. I almost think too early. But it was a good morning. I met one of Colman's former students in one of his classes who said she had no more credits needed to graduate, and is only taking half a day at Bethesda for this semester. She may join me in my endeavors with Garrison Elementary School.
At Wilson, we talked about the death penalty. Colman is against the death penalty, and spoke about a slightly mentally retarded boy that was a minor and was spending time with a couple people who did some bad things and these people--a soldier and another man--killed two people after robbing them. He was judged to be one of those who had a main role, and was put on death row, still only a minor, and a low enough IQ to be considered slow. Colman got in contact with him while he was waiting for his execution. He learned that this boy, James Roach, had learned to read, and was teaching other inmates how to read. His skin was yellow because he didn't get to go outside enough. He asked Colman to attend his execution, but he didn't go, because he was against what was going on. Several years later, after Supreme Court Rulings made it illegal to sentence a minor or a retarded person to death, he met the governor of the state at a party, who was trying to promote his education program of the state. Colman told him that he sentenced a great teacher to death.
Two people in the class had family members that had been murdered. Jasmine, a girl that sat behind me, spoke of her uncle who was killed by a racist white man. The man plead insane, and escaped death row, she said. She said she was for the death penalty because it should be a life for a life.
Another student, I think his name was Andrew, said that his brother was murdered last February. He said the case was still open--they were still investigating, that thought the police had originally said he had committed suicide, they had found evidence that there was foul play. The difference was that Andrew didn't think his brother's murderer should die. He felt forgiveness was necessary and that we should not kill because it wouldn't bring someone back to life if we killed another person. It was hard, but really good to hear these perspectives. In my high school, I knew one person that had had a family member murdered. Here, there was two in a class of 25 students.
I met Tony at the bus stop on the way home from Wilson High on Thursday.
Tony is a worker at Safeway grocery stores, has a granddaughter at Wilson High School, and likes to wear the art of knitted scarves. He has done some sort of work with the people who put out those huge bins in the corners of parking lots, by helping the people receiving the items inside. He has compassion for the people who donate, those who volunteer to give it away, and those that receive it. He rides the H4 bus home at night, and knows which drivers will take a smoke and leave the people who want to get on the bus in the rain and which won't. He knows where to get new microwaves when the young workers at the grocery store accidently blow up the other one. He was very intelligent. When he said he worked at Safeway, I thought me meant like a program for schools, or for homeless people, judging on his knowledge of the programs going on around him.
Friday brought a different sort of schedule. I had spent Thursday afternoon hating bureaucracies because they require you to get your fingerprints done and TB tests to be taken to volunteer in a classroom. I emailed Colman about my frustrations, and he told me to show up at the school and just present myself to the point that I wanted to be there to help. So I did--I took the bus to Garrison Elementary and went in, but the man that I wanted to speak with wasn't available--he was working on report cards, so I left my contact information and told him I wanted to get in contact with him.
Then I rode a different bus home. The funny thing was that I didn't know how I was going to get home, so I decided to take the bus toward Fort Totten, to see if I could find to bus to Brookland from there.
On the way, I met Connie. She's a great grandmother, a retired lady with family all over the place. She has lived in DC all her life, and has a passion for children. Connie can always tell when someone moved to DC from some place south like Brazil, because she said one girl wore a thin jacket with a flowery dress in January. She said she'd always wanted to learn how to knit (I was working on Jasmine's scarf).
She was very kind, and I could tell that she cared about people in the community. She had an air of kindness, and concern. One young mana and his two children got on the bus, and she asked him how he was doing, she said that his mother had died recently and she was happy that he and all his siblings were staying together. I told her I lived in a suburb of Cleveland where there wasn't much diversity in the schools, then she told me that one of her sons lived in Wisconsin, and people always thought he was a football player because he was tall and black, and asked him for his autograph. She said she'd never seen a small town with so little diversity.
I got home and then putzed around for awhile. I contacted Emily to see if she was going contra dancing and then fanagled around trying to figure out how I was going to contra dance if I didn't have a ride, and ended up getting ahold of Ryan and going over to their house for supper and a ride.
I rode the Metro to Takoma Park and got there early. I had a lot of energy, and sat in the living room, knitting and talking to Fraya, who is Ryan's adopted daughter. She's sixteen and is mentally-disabled, likes shiny things and coffee pots. She really liked my circular knitting needles, and pulled my scarf off of them (which was fine) and then would suck on them and wiggle them it the air.
After awhile, dinner was ready, I got my needles back and continued to work on the scarf, and we had Tempheh (?), blueberries, brown rice, salad greens, peppers, and then later there was smoothies and muffins (from the dumpster). There were long discussions going on, because there was a prospective housemate, named Abi, looking at the home to see if she wanted to move into their intentional community. I met Adam, Jeff, Brett (who I had met last week), Rob, Mikyla, Noah, Megan (Mikyla and Noah are her children), and Mark, as well. It was great to know their names. People often mistake me for being part of the community when I am at the house--like last Sunday, and also yesterday, Abi thought I was part of the house. Brett is doing an internship in the White House, Mark is a reporter, Adam is going into Acupuncture, Ryan is a physicist (I already knew this), Megan is a nurse practitioner.
Contra dancing was a blast. I rode with Ryan, Brett, Mark, and Abi to the contra dance and then it was a blast. I get better every time. It seems shorter every time. I like dancing with the older men because they are intelligent and don't make weird eye contact. I danced with one guy, named David, who owns a music shop. It made me excited, and we waltzed and then talked about it. It was great. He's my facebook friend now! Dumpster diving was successful. We got bread, cheese, naan, mini pita breads, bananas (out the wazoo--an entire box full), organic apple slices. . It was great. Salsa... mmm.
I slept at their house. It was chilly, and I had a lot of blankets, but for some reason I didn't sleep very well. But either way, I got up the next morning, but was well-greeted, and offered coffee, which I accepted, and had a good cup of it, and then took the things that I wanted from the dumpster run in my bag and walked to the metro. It was snowing a lot, and I was in a really good mood. I kept saying "Good morning!" to everyone, and it was really funny how much snow heaped onto my head during the walk to the metro. When I put my sole dollar onto my card, there was a couple nearby that looked a little unsure about the machine, but they said everything was fine, and they were waiting on the platform when I got up there.
They asked me which Metro stop to get off of to go to the Portrait Gallery, which I went to with Andrew for the city scavenger hunt, so I told them, and even said where they should get out, and which way it was from there. Then we talked about everything--they were from South Africa and the U.K., which I could tell from their accents. They had toured through all the big sites in the cold frigid air. We talked about weather in London and Ohio, and DC. Their names were Allen and Marie. They were very sweet.
I walked home and cleared the steps, the back porch and sidewalk and the front sidewalk all the way to the bus stop off with snow. Too bad it kept snowing. and kept snowing.
The bus that we took to Target later in the day was twenty three minutes later than expected. I was afraid for getting back to the house late, because I was going to call Zach at three. We got back at 3:15, with everything we needed, and it was all good. I had a battle with the local access number, and eventually I just called the one through my phone, and it made sense. Then Zach and I got to talk. He originally said at the beginning of the conversation that he wanted to talk for twenty minutes. But we actually talked for fifty-four. Because my card had enough money.
And it was wonderful, and I miss him so much. There's really not words to describe how much it meant to be able to talk to him. The interesting part of all of it is that he got malaria this past week. It got really bad and he was sick to all get out, and went to the hospital and recovered, but I could still tell that his lungs were infected--he told me so, and he also was coughing a lot (which made me want to cry). And he lost twenty pounds. But he said that he spent the entire week thinking, and learning. He said that he's been studying 1 Corinthians, and related this passage to what he felt--"When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put my childish ways behind me." (13:11). I could tell.
God's will for things always ends up better than what I imagined it to be. When Zach left for training, I thought that he would come back a little better, more mature, and then he'd go off to Africa and change a lot. He came back from training, changed, but in a really good way. Better than I expected. This is God's will for his life. I'm so excited for him. Now that he's in Africa, he's growing so much more, and I wish I was there to see it, to know what was going on, and I wish that I understood everything that he said, but I also know that when he gets back it will be better than what I expected, and God will keep working.
The last thing we talked about was communication. This was the hard part. What's cheap in America is expensive in Africa, and vice versa, so it's hard to send letters. But he told me to email. He also said that we can talk about all this for months and months when he gets back. The way he said it was hard. It made me really sad, but at the same time, it helped me prepare for the future. I can still write letters if I want. I will, I think. And send him some sour candies, and attempt to find something that resembles Mountain Dew so that he can enjoy it. It's just really hard to figure out what would be perfect to send.
But when we ended the conversation, even though I was sad, I could tell that he still knew me, and even though I was silent on my end of the line, he said, "Now I know this is the part you hate." Then we said Goodbye. And I was sad, but I trust god for our future, and I know that everything is going to be great.
Six months is not very much in the scheme of life. And I can't wait.
At Wilson, we talked about the death penalty. Colman is against the death penalty, and spoke about a slightly mentally retarded boy that was a minor and was spending time with a couple people who did some bad things and these people--a soldier and another man--killed two people after robbing them. He was judged to be one of those who had a main role, and was put on death row, still only a minor, and a low enough IQ to be considered slow. Colman got in contact with him while he was waiting for his execution. He learned that this boy, James Roach, had learned to read, and was teaching other inmates how to read. His skin was yellow because he didn't get to go outside enough. He asked Colman to attend his execution, but he didn't go, because he was against what was going on. Several years later, after Supreme Court Rulings made it illegal to sentence a minor or a retarded person to death, he met the governor of the state at a party, who was trying to promote his education program of the state. Colman told him that he sentenced a great teacher to death.
Two people in the class had family members that had been murdered. Jasmine, a girl that sat behind me, spoke of her uncle who was killed by a racist white man. The man plead insane, and escaped death row, she said. She said she was for the death penalty because it should be a life for a life.
Another student, I think his name was Andrew, said that his brother was murdered last February. He said the case was still open--they were still investigating, that thought the police had originally said he had committed suicide, they had found evidence that there was foul play. The difference was that Andrew didn't think his brother's murderer should die. He felt forgiveness was necessary and that we should not kill because it wouldn't bring someone back to life if we killed another person. It was hard, but really good to hear these perspectives. In my high school, I knew one person that had had a family member murdered. Here, there was two in a class of 25 students.
I met Tony at the bus stop on the way home from Wilson High on Thursday.
Tony is a worker at Safeway grocery stores, has a granddaughter at Wilson High School, and likes to wear the art of knitted scarves. He has done some sort of work with the people who put out those huge bins in the corners of parking lots, by helping the people receiving the items inside. He has compassion for the people who donate, those who volunteer to give it away, and those that receive it. He rides the H4 bus home at night, and knows which drivers will take a smoke and leave the people who want to get on the bus in the rain and which won't. He knows where to get new microwaves when the young workers at the grocery store accidently blow up the other one. He was very intelligent. When he said he worked at Safeway, I thought me meant like a program for schools, or for homeless people, judging on his knowledge of the programs going on around him.
Friday brought a different sort of schedule. I had spent Thursday afternoon hating bureaucracies because they require you to get your fingerprints done and TB tests to be taken to volunteer in a classroom. I emailed Colman about my frustrations, and he told me to show up at the school and just present myself to the point that I wanted to be there to help. So I did--I took the bus to Garrison Elementary and went in, but the man that I wanted to speak with wasn't available--he was working on report cards, so I left my contact information and told him I wanted to get in contact with him.
Then I rode a different bus home. The funny thing was that I didn't know how I was going to get home, so I decided to take the bus toward Fort Totten, to see if I could find to bus to Brookland from there.
On the way, I met Connie. She's a great grandmother, a retired lady with family all over the place. She has lived in DC all her life, and has a passion for children. Connie can always tell when someone moved to DC from some place south like Brazil, because she said one girl wore a thin jacket with a flowery dress in January. She said she'd always wanted to learn how to knit (I was working on Jasmine's scarf).
She was very kind, and I could tell that she cared about people in the community. She had an air of kindness, and concern. One young mana and his two children got on the bus, and she asked him how he was doing, she said that his mother had died recently and she was happy that he and all his siblings were staying together. I told her I lived in a suburb of Cleveland where there wasn't much diversity in the schools, then she told me that one of her sons lived in Wisconsin, and people always thought he was a football player because he was tall and black, and asked him for his autograph. She said she'd never seen a small town with so little diversity.
I got home and then putzed around for awhile. I contacted Emily to see if she was going contra dancing and then fanagled around trying to figure out how I was going to contra dance if I didn't have a ride, and ended up getting ahold of Ryan and going over to their house for supper and a ride.
I rode the Metro to Takoma Park and got there early. I had a lot of energy, and sat in the living room, knitting and talking to Fraya, who is Ryan's adopted daughter. She's sixteen and is mentally-disabled, likes shiny things and coffee pots. She really liked my circular knitting needles, and pulled my scarf off of them (which was fine) and then would suck on them and wiggle them it the air.
After awhile, dinner was ready, I got my needles back and continued to work on the scarf, and we had Tempheh (?), blueberries, brown rice, salad greens, peppers, and then later there was smoothies and muffins (from the dumpster). There were long discussions going on, because there was a prospective housemate, named Abi, looking at the home to see if she wanted to move into their intentional community. I met Adam, Jeff, Brett (who I had met last week), Rob, Mikyla, Noah, Megan (Mikyla and Noah are her children), and Mark, as well. It was great to know their names. People often mistake me for being part of the community when I am at the house--like last Sunday, and also yesterday, Abi thought I was part of the house. Brett is doing an internship in the White House, Mark is a reporter, Adam is going into Acupuncture, Ryan is a physicist (I already knew this), Megan is a nurse practitioner.
Contra dancing was a blast. I rode with Ryan, Brett, Mark, and Abi to the contra dance and then it was a blast. I get better every time. It seems shorter every time. I like dancing with the older men because they are intelligent and don't make weird eye contact. I danced with one guy, named David, who owns a music shop. It made me excited, and we waltzed and then talked about it. It was great. He's my facebook friend now! Dumpster diving was successful. We got bread, cheese, naan, mini pita breads, bananas (out the wazoo--an entire box full), organic apple slices. . It was great. Salsa... mmm.
I slept at their house. It was chilly, and I had a lot of blankets, but for some reason I didn't sleep very well. But either way, I got up the next morning, but was well-greeted, and offered coffee, which I accepted, and had a good cup of it, and then took the things that I wanted from the dumpster run in my bag and walked to the metro. It was snowing a lot, and I was in a really good mood. I kept saying "Good morning!" to everyone, and it was really funny how much snow heaped onto my head during the walk to the metro. When I put my sole dollar onto my card, there was a couple nearby that looked a little unsure about the machine, but they said everything was fine, and they were waiting on the platform when I got up there.
They asked me which Metro stop to get off of to go to the Portrait Gallery, which I went to with Andrew for the city scavenger hunt, so I told them, and even said where they should get out, and which way it was from there. Then we talked about everything--they were from South Africa and the U.K., which I could tell from their accents. They had toured through all the big sites in the cold frigid air. We talked about weather in London and Ohio, and DC. Their names were Allen and Marie. They were very sweet.
I walked home and cleared the steps, the back porch and sidewalk and the front sidewalk all the way to the bus stop off with snow. Too bad it kept snowing. and kept snowing.
The bus that we took to Target later in the day was twenty three minutes later than expected. I was afraid for getting back to the house late, because I was going to call Zach at three. We got back at 3:15, with everything we needed, and it was all good. I had a battle with the local access number, and eventually I just called the one through my phone, and it made sense. Then Zach and I got to talk. He originally said at the beginning of the conversation that he wanted to talk for twenty minutes. But we actually talked for fifty-four. Because my card had enough money.
And it was wonderful, and I miss him so much. There's really not words to describe how much it meant to be able to talk to him. The interesting part of all of it is that he got malaria this past week. It got really bad and he was sick to all get out, and went to the hospital and recovered, but I could still tell that his lungs were infected--he told me so, and he also was coughing a lot (which made me want to cry). And he lost twenty pounds. But he said that he spent the entire week thinking, and learning. He said that he's been studying 1 Corinthians, and related this passage to what he felt--"When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put my childish ways behind me." (13:11). I could tell.
God's will for things always ends up better than what I imagined it to be. When Zach left for training, I thought that he would come back a little better, more mature, and then he'd go off to Africa and change a lot. He came back from training, changed, but in a really good way. Better than I expected. This is God's will for his life. I'm so excited for him. Now that he's in Africa, he's growing so much more, and I wish I was there to see it, to know what was going on, and I wish that I understood everything that he said, but I also know that when he gets back it will be better than what I expected, and God will keep working.
The last thing we talked about was communication. This was the hard part. What's cheap in America is expensive in Africa, and vice versa, so it's hard to send letters. But he told me to email. He also said that we can talk about all this for months and months when he gets back. The way he said it was hard. It made me really sad, but at the same time, it helped me prepare for the future. I can still write letters if I want. I will, I think. And send him some sour candies, and attempt to find something that resembles Mountain Dew so that he can enjoy it. It's just really hard to figure out what would be perfect to send.
But when we ended the conversation, even though I was sad, I could tell that he still knew me, and even though I was silent on my end of the line, he said, "Now I know this is the part you hate." Then we said Goodbye. And I was sad, but I trust god for our future, and I know that everything is going to be great.
Six months is not very much in the scheme of life. And I can't wait.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
True Stories from the Depths of Iraq--what you learn at Wilson High
We got through three topics before Colman arrived.
The first thing that they answered that I talked through was food, there was one girl in the front row that said that she liked to cook Chicken, with some kind of marinara. That was rather cool, I was glad that she responded.
Music was definitely a widely mentioned idea--I asked the students what instruments they played--many of them played guitar, one played piano, and some played drums--I told them I was a took lessons toward being a classical pianist for thirteen years, and that I also knew how to play guitar and wrote music.
The last thing that we got to was Sports---I love that many students were able to find resources through the school to play in sports, and I think that there are many options for sports at Wilson High school. Some guys played basketball, one girl did crew, which I learned was rowing, so saying "playing crew" is a really lame statement.
Discussion went really well after that.
As class usually goes with Wilson, some new students came in halfway through the class period and there were several funny episodes that occurred during class. One student needed a form to sign (I think to drop the class) and Colman told him to have the guy in the back of the class sign it. He said we were power-sharing, and that the guy in the back of the class would be as equal as Colman was in the aspect of his signature being credible. The point is that Colman thinks "paperocracies" are pointless. He said this yesterday when I needed things signed for work-study and EMU things. I think paperocracies are super annoying, and it's America's way of making everything in disarray at almost all times, because something is being lost, or mishandled, and then we have to go find it and take care of the business, it's just so annoying. Why can't it just be "yes" or "no"?
One of Colman's former students came into class almost all the way through the period.
Colman introduced Jafar, and asked if he could tell his story to the class. Jafar said that was fine, and Colman proceeded.
Jafar moved to the United States from Iraq about three years ago. His family moved here because of what the Americans were doing in their country. Before American Soldiers showed up in their town, Jafar was able to go out at night with his friends. Though Saddam Hussien was a dictating leader, he felt safe in the area because Saddam wasn't affecting himself, his family, or his neighborhood. Once the Soldiers from the U.S. came into the area, it wasn't safe anymore. Jafar had to be home by six, and was considered suspicious to the soldiers because he was Iraqi. One night he woke up in the night because he felt cold metal on his face. When he opened his eyes, he saw a gun pointed at his head, and an American soldier with a mask on, with four companions surrounding him. They were checking for weapons in his family's home. They only had a pistol that had been Jafar's grandfather's. Their family was not a radical terrorist group, they were normal Iraqi citizens with lives and friends. Jafar recalled two times that he had been shot at by American soldiers. One time, he was outside, with some friends, and had obviously walked too close not to be suspicious, and soldiers opened fired on him, and he had to run away to not catch the bullets. The other time, he was in his parents' car and was driving past a stationed point, and they fired upon him again. He had to pull over to shield himself from the bullets, and when they stopped firing, Jafar drove away. His parents had to pay for the damage in his car--no one reimbursed them for the damage. The soldiers have been taught to fire upon cars that come too close because it is assumed that they are car bombs, and so they shoot to defer the driver to leave.
Then some of the radicals in the city placed a bomb directly beside Jafar's home. They called the U.S. soldiers and they brought their robot bomb dismantler, but it cut the wrong wire and the bomb went off, and all the windows in the home were shattered and there was a lot of damage to their home. Again, Jafar's family had to cover all the damage expenses and after that they decided to come to the United States. The only reason that they had the option to come back to America was because Jafar's mom was born in the United States--her father was working in Wisconsin when she was born, and when she was a month old, they moved back to Iraq. So she was an American citizen.
Jafar's family came to America then, three years ago. He barely knew any English then, but now he is completely fluent and has a four year full ride to the University of Wisconsin.
If they didn't have that link to the US, Jafar's family would still be in Iraq. He would still be dodging bullets and having his home raided for weapons in the middle of the night. Jafar might be dead.
How much longer are we going to keep shooting and bombing the people who are just like us, with family and friends just like us, in fear? Because we are afraid, we are pressing our very own terrorism upon them, more than they are to us. Our American Soldiers are like the antibiotic resistant bacteria that comes back every time. Terrorism to America is few and far between, and our security measures are making sure of that. Yet we feel no sorrow in killing the nameless and naming them heartless. We harbor no regret in shooting those completely identical to us in a different culture, and calling them terrorists. No matter what we think, the bullets from our guns are piercing the same organ that is beating in our own chests. We were created by the same God, and we are called to love them the same.
I rode the bus home from there, and had to listen to two girls, who were 17 and 18, talk about partying, mixing drinks, and college for like an hour. They rode the bus to Colombia Heights. It was sort of angering, but I know I shouldn't judge because I shouldn't. Then I felt claustrophobic for a little while because a man was sitting next to me and another right in front of me. With riding the bus comes the smells of everyone around you. I tried not to think about it, and think about my knitting, but I got distracted, especially when the yarn I had ran out.
The man sitting in front of me got off at the Veteran's Hospital stop, as I knew he would. Looking at him sitting there, his back hunched in what looked like pain or complete exhaustion. He seemed to have a demeanor of defeat, and couldn't hold himself for swaying back and forth when the bus abruptly stopped occasionally. He walked off of the bus, still hunched over. There is life in this city, but there is also a lot of pain. Many veterans struggle with PTSD, and some end up homeless because of this. I don't think that it was the case with this man, but he looked worn dry.
Our class seminar had an interesting day today. We went to visit the pastor at Plymouth Church of Christ, Graydon Hagler. He was very courteous to us, and shared all about his work in the community and how he knew he was going to go into the ministry since he was a little kid (and he's been ordained for thirty years this coming Sunday.) It was nice to hear his opinions on peace and violence, church politics, and understand where he was coming from. It was a great experience for me--I feel like I can connect a lot with pastors, or I let myself connect with them--because Dad and Mom are pastors.
We had an interesting discussion on the way to the church about marriage.
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Colman McCarthy, Connections, and Veganism
I had my second full day of high school. I guess this semester at these two high schools is going to have to suffice for all the time I skipped at Streetsboro High. I woke up at 5:45, and was out of the house at 6:30 and I ran to the Metro. There was a bit of a wait for the train to arrive, and I saw of the alert that said that trains would be delayed and that there was some type of accident between Twinbrook and Shady Grove, and I later found out that there was a fatal accident that two Metro workers were killed by the a piece of equipment falling of them. I feel for their families right now. I can imagine the holes in their hearts right now.
There were several delays on the way to Bethesda, but I expected, and I read my book on the way there, so I was fine, there was a man that was in the Metro that had a little impatient outburst when we stopped for the second minute delay. Once I got out of the Bethesda Station, I remembered where I was, sighting the McDonald's and walked quickly toward the way I knew the school would be. I got there on time, and Colman was right--they had some kind of homeroom first, so because I was a little late I still made it on time, and I waited in the office until Colman got there and then we walked to the first class--on the fourth floor! It was packed full--I sat on a stool behind Colman for the first class. One of his students from the previous semester's class had a free period and came and listened in.
Colman began his first class of the semester just the same as he did every time. He begins by asking the class if they like money, and then some outgoing or late student is addressed and tells him how much they like money--in this class, his name was Jordan, he was both late and outgoing, and he had to sit at the teacher's desk in the back of the room because there was nowhere else for him to sit. Then Colman takes out a $100 bill, and offers to give it to anyone who can identify and say a little bit about each person he names--there were six people that he named. He started out easy--Robert E. Lee, Ulysses S. Grant, Mike Tyson. Everyone gets into the game, and is excited about this $100 bill at this point. Then he stumps them.
"Who is Barbara Lee?"
"Who is Jeanette Rankin?"
"Who is (and I can't even remember her name)?"
And no one knows the answers to these because, as Colman states, "You are learning the men that break the peace, but not the women who makes the peace. It's not your fault, you weren't taught it."
He teaches his first class by telling students how they are peace illiterate, telling them the math that they have been taking since first grade will be useless, as they can't graduate from high school to be an Algebraist. "Let those who love Algebra take Algebra, but let the rest of us take what we want to take."
He sent the students out in the hall to count the doors in the hallway, and then when they came back in, he asked them why they did that. They replied, "Because you told us to."
"Why did you listen to me?"
"Because you are the teacher."
"That's right, because I have the power. I am the teacher. I want you to learn to question authorities. Ask me 'Why are we going into the halls and counting doors? What's the point of this?'"
Even though Colman is an anarchist, and tends to teach in slightly irrational ways that anyone on the board of Education would frown upon, I find that his teaching methods seem like they may be the only ways that students actually like to learn in. His class is discussion based, asking questions, and going off on tangents.
This is true with connections. Whenever someone walks into the classroom, they have to be careful, because they are about to be the discussion. Whiney, a student from a program at American University showed up about an hour after class started, and Colman had her introduce herself and talk about where she was from, which was California, and then Colman asked the class what four cities in California were.
Later, a guidance counselor walked in with a new student, and Colman started asking her questions. Where'd you go to school? What did you do before you got here? The main discussion when this happened was when Colman asked the class, "Does anyone not want to be here?"
A couple kids raised their hands (this was at Wilson), and also the newest addition to the class, and he said, "I'd rather be in my original class." Colman thanked him for his honesty, and then proceeded to ask other students in the class who raised their hands to see why they didn't want to be there. One girl, Natalie, said that she'd rather be somewhere helping animals, and then Colman told her to go, then--now--and go help with at some Animal Nursery.
The guidance counselor was still there, and Colman was asking her opinion on what students should do if they didn't want to learn the way the high school made them learn. She said that it is the case for a lot of students, and maybe they want to do something like learn to repair cars, but they don't have that option at Wilson. I decided to say what they options were at Streetsboro--it was then I realized that although this was a bigger school with more class options, we had more options for those who wriggle in their seats with boredom because they can't stand math. We had the option of going to the Maplewood Career Center, as well as Post Secondary, or remaining at the high school, and here they had no options. I could tell that no one else had these options and it made me sad that they didn't.
The counselor left eventually, but you could tell that she had a lot to say and enjoyed the conversation that she had with Colman. There was another man that wondered in named Mr. Chase, looking for Ludwin, who wasn't in school. Colman also asked him questions about what he was doing as a job and what he did in college, but this guy seemed rushed, as he was on his job, getting students who were present to sign off. But still the same, he was letting the students see that these people weren't just invisible people in the world. They have homes and jobs and were in the same situation as we are in now five-ten years ago.
Colman also spoke with the substitute teacher that was at Bethesda in the first period. It turns out this guy graduated from Harvard, and taught Lacrosse part-time at a local private school, and was looking to be an English teacher at that school. But he majored in the history of Government, and Arabic at Harvard. And he said that the people weren't as exciting with unique thoughts and ideas as he had hoped. He wrote a book, and gave me the URL--it's called www.tremblethedevil.com . I plan on reading it. The guy seemed legitimate, and hey, he went to Harvard.
Then Whitney, girl that stopped in and Natalie, the girl who wanted to go help animals, and also some other students in the class were talking about animal rights and what should we feel about that. There were some kids who were talking about how meat is important to eat and that you get nutrients that your body needs from it that you can't get anywhere else. It turns out Whitney is vegan, and she was talking about how she had cookbooks, and it makes it really easy to eat vegan. Natalie stopped eating meat at the beginning of the year, and someone asked Colman if he was vegetarian, and he said he was Vegan.
Some students always object to the idea of being manipulated into changing their diets, and so I was just listening and taking it all in.
Whitney said that meat and animal products are bad for your body, and I was curious about that--I looked it up, and it says that eating meat has some connection to heart disease and other things, and being vegan leads to a cruelty free lifestyle. So part of today I was trying to define what my opinion was on food. I've grown up on milk and dairy products, and I know that I wouldn't be able to eat vegan, but I was trying to figure out how I would eat, because I don't want to be cruel to animals. I have a hard time with animals getting hurt--in fact when I was in sixth or seventh grade, I read this article in a magazine about some kids who tortured a cat to death, and it killed me, and it made me really sad.
So in reference to my diet, I read in Barbara Kingsolver's Animal, Vegetable, Miracle, which was a great reminder, that cows need to be milked, or they are in pain, and chickens will lay eggs--it's inevitable. So why waste these things? So I'm all for drinking milk and eating eggs within reason. But within the case of animal cruelty, I know that some of these animals are tortured and kept in horribly small spaces, and I don't want to support that, but at the same time, if I get something out of the dumpster that has been tortured or encaged in small space, I would rather not waste their by-products than leave it there and declare that because these animals are cruelly treated that I refuse to eat their by-products. So I guess I want to eat vegan, aside things that are dumpster dove.
After work, I rode the bus home, ate soup and a muffin for lunch, and then bummed around on the internet before taking a nap. Now it looks like dinner's almost ready, and then we are going to volleyball, and I still have a journal to write for the seminar tomorrow.
There were several delays on the way to Bethesda, but I expected, and I read my book on the way there, so I was fine, there was a man that was in the Metro that had a little impatient outburst when we stopped for the second minute delay. Once I got out of the Bethesda Station, I remembered where I was, sighting the McDonald's and walked quickly toward the way I knew the school would be. I got there on time, and Colman was right--they had some kind of homeroom first, so because I was a little late I still made it on time, and I waited in the office until Colman got there and then we walked to the first class--on the fourth floor! It was packed full--I sat on a stool behind Colman for the first class. One of his students from the previous semester's class had a free period and came and listened in.
Colman began his first class of the semester just the same as he did every time. He begins by asking the class if they like money, and then some outgoing or late student is addressed and tells him how much they like money--in this class, his name was Jordan, he was both late and outgoing, and he had to sit at the teacher's desk in the back of the room because there was nowhere else for him to sit. Then Colman takes out a $100 bill, and offers to give it to anyone who can identify and say a little bit about each person he names--there were six people that he named. He started out easy--Robert E. Lee, Ulysses S. Grant, Mike Tyson. Everyone gets into the game, and is excited about this $100 bill at this point. Then he stumps them.
"Who is Barbara Lee?"
"Who is Jeanette Rankin?"
"Who is (and I can't even remember her name)?"
And no one knows the answers to these because, as Colman states, "You are learning the men that break the peace, but not the women who makes the peace. It's not your fault, you weren't taught it."
He teaches his first class by telling students how they are peace illiterate, telling them the math that they have been taking since first grade will be useless, as they can't graduate from high school to be an Algebraist. "Let those who love Algebra take Algebra, but let the rest of us take what we want to take."
He sent the students out in the hall to count the doors in the hallway, and then when they came back in, he asked them why they did that. They replied, "Because you told us to."
"Why did you listen to me?"
"Because you are the teacher."
"That's right, because I have the power. I am the teacher. I want you to learn to question authorities. Ask me 'Why are we going into the halls and counting doors? What's the point of this?'"
Even though Colman is an anarchist, and tends to teach in slightly irrational ways that anyone on the board of Education would frown upon, I find that his teaching methods seem like they may be the only ways that students actually like to learn in. His class is discussion based, asking questions, and going off on tangents.
This is true with connections. Whenever someone walks into the classroom, they have to be careful, because they are about to be the discussion. Whiney, a student from a program at American University showed up about an hour after class started, and Colman had her introduce herself and talk about where she was from, which was California, and then Colman asked the class what four cities in California were.
Later, a guidance counselor walked in with a new student, and Colman started asking her questions. Where'd you go to school? What did you do before you got here? The main discussion when this happened was when Colman asked the class, "Does anyone not want to be here?"
A couple kids raised their hands (this was at Wilson), and also the newest addition to the class, and he said, "I'd rather be in my original class." Colman thanked him for his honesty, and then proceeded to ask other students in the class who raised their hands to see why they didn't want to be there. One girl, Natalie, said that she'd rather be somewhere helping animals, and then Colman told her to go, then--now--and go help with at some Animal Nursery.
The guidance counselor was still there, and Colman was asking her opinion on what students should do if they didn't want to learn the way the high school made them learn. She said that it is the case for a lot of students, and maybe they want to do something like learn to repair cars, but they don't have that option at Wilson. I decided to say what they options were at Streetsboro--it was then I realized that although this was a bigger school with more class options, we had more options for those who wriggle in their seats with boredom because they can't stand math. We had the option of going to the Maplewood Career Center, as well as Post Secondary, or remaining at the high school, and here they had no options. I could tell that no one else had these options and it made me sad that they didn't.
The counselor left eventually, but you could tell that she had a lot to say and enjoyed the conversation that she had with Colman. There was another man that wondered in named Mr. Chase, looking for Ludwin, who wasn't in school. Colman also asked him questions about what he was doing as a job and what he did in college, but this guy seemed rushed, as he was on his job, getting students who were present to sign off. But still the same, he was letting the students see that these people weren't just invisible people in the world. They have homes and jobs and were in the same situation as we are in now five-ten years ago.
Colman also spoke with the substitute teacher that was at Bethesda in the first period. It turns out this guy graduated from Harvard, and taught Lacrosse part-time at a local private school, and was looking to be an English teacher at that school. But he majored in the history of Government, and Arabic at Harvard. And he said that the people weren't as exciting with unique thoughts and ideas as he had hoped. He wrote a book, and gave me the URL--it's called www.tremblethedevil.com . I plan on reading it. The guy seemed legitimate, and hey, he went to Harvard.
Then Whitney, girl that stopped in and Natalie, the girl who wanted to go help animals, and also some other students in the class were talking about animal rights and what should we feel about that. There were some kids who were talking about how meat is important to eat and that you get nutrients that your body needs from it that you can't get anywhere else. It turns out Whitney is vegan, and she was talking about how she had cookbooks, and it makes it really easy to eat vegan. Natalie stopped eating meat at the beginning of the year, and someone asked Colman if he was vegetarian, and he said he was Vegan.
Some students always object to the idea of being manipulated into changing their diets, and so I was just listening and taking it all in.
Whitney said that meat and animal products are bad for your body, and I was curious about that--I looked it up, and it says that eating meat has some connection to heart disease and other things, and being vegan leads to a cruelty free lifestyle. So part of today I was trying to define what my opinion was on food. I've grown up on milk and dairy products, and I know that I wouldn't be able to eat vegan, but I was trying to figure out how I would eat, because I don't want to be cruel to animals. I have a hard time with animals getting hurt--in fact when I was in sixth or seventh grade, I read this article in a magazine about some kids who tortured a cat to death, and it killed me, and it made me really sad.
So in reference to my diet, I read in Barbara Kingsolver's Animal, Vegetable, Miracle, which was a great reminder, that cows need to be milked, or they are in pain, and chickens will lay eggs--it's inevitable. So why waste these things? So I'm all for drinking milk and eating eggs within reason. But within the case of animal cruelty, I know that some of these animals are tortured and kept in horribly small spaces, and I don't want to support that, but at the same time, if I get something out of the dumpster that has been tortured or encaged in small space, I would rather not waste their by-products than leave it there and declare that because these animals are cruelly treated that I refuse to eat their by-products. So I guess I want to eat vegan, aside things that are dumpster dove.
After work, I rode the bus home, ate soup and a muffin for lunch, and then bummed around on the internet before taking a nap. Now it looks like dinner's almost ready, and then we are going to volleyball, and I still have a journal to write for the seminar tomorrow.
Weird Dreams
Then later today I took a nap. I was jumping on a trampoline with Marie in this pool with a tiger swimming around in it. The trampoline was really easy to jump on until Marie got off and evaporated from my dream. Then I was jumping by myself, for a swimming test, and it was like jumping up and down on a weighted trampoline, and I was getting tired like climbing stairs. So I decided to swim laps a little while. I swam through the water, through this dirt that was just floating in the water, and started doing laps, but forgot about the tiger. Soon we were swimming next to each other, and it was going fine, until I accidently swam too close to the tiger and pushed it towards the wall. Then it bit me, but I was okay, could breathe and kept swimming. Then I could hear my mother's voice distantly, "Get her out of there!" as the tiger bit me in the head again, and I saw, from an outer body experience, some of my hair fall out, and then the tiger's notification bar (too much time on facebook, I know) said "with child"(?) and cycling arrows, Then I was back in my own body, suddenly unable to breathe with the feeling of something over my head. But someone hit the tiger over the head and pulled me out of the water, and I was just laying there (like I was when I woke up, ironically), and had another out of body experience (which, my assumption is that this happens in dreams) and I saw myself, fine, playing with foxes instead. With that one strand of hair missing though.
I guess the tiger had to floss his teeth.
Monday, January 25, 2010
I Just Jumped onto a Moving Train--back to High School.
I woke up early today. Meaning I got up at 7:00am, and then really got up at 7:10, ate breakfast, got dressed, and somehow got out of the house on time, and caught my bus to Tenleytown.
I got to the school with time to spare, as it was the first day of the second semester, there were still students running around everywhere trying to get their schedules or find out where they were going to their next class. There was also a ten minute delay from the normal class time period, and so because I arrived at 9:15, I waited about thirty minutes for the next period to actually start. I didn't actually know where I was going, so I wondered over to the vice principal's office and looked at the grid of names and room numbers and periods, but I couldn't locate Colman's name, so I asked the vice principal, and she sent me in the right direction. Then I stood outside of room 215 for the next twenty minutes, reading my book, and watching the people who walked by. There was a locker that was heavily decorated for someone's five month anniversary... it was quite a spectacle, and I thought it was sweet, but embarrassing, (especially if it were me.) Another person meandered around the entrance of the same room as I did, and I started a conversation with her about the locker. We kept talking, and it turned out that she was coming from American University to see if she could help out with the classes, but she had to run, so I took down her information and told her I'd tell Colman, and send her on her way.
Colman got there on time, so it was probably 9:40 (although that would be late if it were a normal class day), then we surveyed the TV options (as Colman shows many movie clips in his class. Sounds a little like Mr. Judd, although Mr. Judd didn't really announce that his class was a discussion class. Or that papers were the main source of points in the class.) Then we went to class. I went and sat down in the second row with the students, and learned the names of the row on my left--Brandon, Denver, Lauren, and Miguel. Because classes at Wilson are ninety minutes long, subjects ranged from people in prison (types of prisons--there are four--minimum, medium, maximum, and supermaximum), Buddhism, and the afterlife (there is a student in this class that is a Buddhist), depression and suicide (one of the students put on the questionaire one thing that he'd done to make someone's life more peaceful was to be more nice to them because they were depressed, and then Colman started talking about how out of some ten thousand of his students five had committed suicide. It was really sad to hear the stories that he told, and I thought it was quite an interesting way to start the semester.), and other opportunities that Colman had to teach Peace Studies. He listed several universities and also this elementary school after-school program. I was excited about the after-school program and I asked him about it--and instead of contacting the person who was in charge of it, he told me to just go to the school and go see him, and then start working with him. I'm just curious as to what they do. I don't know yet. I got to speak to the teacher in the classroom that Colman is using this semester, and when she was showing us how to use the TV in the classroom, I asked her what her name was, and she said "Julia". This happened earlier--the Vice Principal told me her name was "MaryBeth". This is when I realized, and I'm very thankful, that I am not a high school anymore. The teachers aren't just here to teach, they are here to be your friend, but it does take the change in age, the diploma of maturity to receive the first name basis. Just saying.
After class was over, I took the bus home, and saw Christa on my walk back to the house.
I ate some good food for lunch, and then just hung out all afternoon. I worked on some housing applications for an apartment for Anna and me at EMU next year. As of now, I'm planning on going back and finishing my Liberal Arts Degree, and graduating in 2011. Emily also set up my work-study--all I need to do is get Colman to sign the forms. Which I have been putting off. Which I will do so no more, because I'll be earning money!
Corrie and I made supper--chicken thighs with Cajun seasoning, couscous in chicken broth with carrots, almonds, and raisins, and kale with olive oil and garlic. Corrie decided that we should make No-Bakes, but we didn't have oatmeal, so we took a mini field trip to the Yes! Organic! food store, and bought some oats, for cheap. Then we drove back to the house, made them with chunky instead of creamy peanut butter, and served supper, adding homemade bread and dumpster brie to the table as well, making for one delicious meal.
Now the feeling of digestion is doing it's work, the house has quieted down besides the whurring of the dishwasher, and I'm thinking about taking a shower and going to bed, because I'm leaving the house even earlier than today. But you never know. I may just come home more exhausted then today..
I got to the school with time to spare, as it was the first day of the second semester, there were still students running around everywhere trying to get their schedules or find out where they were going to their next class. There was also a ten minute delay from the normal class time period, and so because I arrived at 9:15, I waited about thirty minutes for the next period to actually start. I didn't actually know where I was going, so I wondered over to the vice principal's office and looked at the grid of names and room numbers and periods, but I couldn't locate Colman's name, so I asked the vice principal, and she sent me in the right direction. Then I stood outside of room 215 for the next twenty minutes, reading my book, and watching the people who walked by. There was a locker that was heavily decorated for someone's five month anniversary... it was quite a spectacle, and I thought it was sweet, but embarrassing, (especially if it were me.) Another person meandered around the entrance of the same room as I did, and I started a conversation with her about the locker. We kept talking, and it turned out that she was coming from American University to see if she could help out with the classes, but she had to run, so I took down her information and told her I'd tell Colman, and send her on her way.
Colman got there on time, so it was probably 9:40 (although that would be late if it were a normal class day), then we surveyed the TV options (as Colman shows many movie clips in his class. Sounds a little like Mr. Judd, although Mr. Judd didn't really announce that his class was a discussion class. Or that papers were the main source of points in the class.) Then we went to class. I went and sat down in the second row with the students, and learned the names of the row on my left--Brandon, Denver, Lauren, and Miguel. Because classes at Wilson are ninety minutes long, subjects ranged from people in prison (types of prisons--there are four--minimum, medium, maximum, and supermaximum), Buddhism, and the afterlife (there is a student in this class that is a Buddhist), depression and suicide (one of the students put on the questionaire one thing that he'd done to make someone's life more peaceful was to be more nice to them because they were depressed, and then Colman started talking about how out of some ten thousand of his students five had committed suicide. It was really sad to hear the stories that he told, and I thought it was quite an interesting way to start the semester.), and other opportunities that Colman had to teach Peace Studies. He listed several universities and also this elementary school after-school program. I was excited about the after-school program and I asked him about it--and instead of contacting the person who was in charge of it, he told me to just go to the school and go see him, and then start working with him. I'm just curious as to what they do. I don't know yet. I got to speak to the teacher in the classroom that Colman is using this semester, and when she was showing us how to use the TV in the classroom, I asked her what her name was, and she said "Julia". This happened earlier--the Vice Principal told me her name was "MaryBeth". This is when I realized, and I'm very thankful, that I am not a high school anymore. The teachers aren't just here to teach, they are here to be your friend, but it does take the change in age, the diploma of maturity to receive the first name basis. Just saying.
After class was over, I took the bus home, and saw Christa on my walk back to the house.
I ate some good food for lunch, and then just hung out all afternoon. I worked on some housing applications for an apartment for Anna and me at EMU next year. As of now, I'm planning on going back and finishing my Liberal Arts Degree, and graduating in 2011. Emily also set up my work-study--all I need to do is get Colman to sign the forms. Which I have been putting off. Which I will do so no more, because I'll be earning money!
Corrie and I made supper--chicken thighs with Cajun seasoning, couscous in chicken broth with carrots, almonds, and raisins, and kale with olive oil and garlic. Corrie decided that we should make No-Bakes, but we didn't have oatmeal, so we took a mini field trip to the Yes! Organic! food store, and bought some oats, for cheap. Then we drove back to the house, made them with chunky instead of creamy peanut butter, and served supper, adding homemade bread and dumpster brie to the table as well, making for one delicious meal.
Now the feeling of digestion is doing it's work, the house has quieted down besides the whurring of the dishwasher, and I'm thinking about taking a shower and going to bed, because I'm leaving the house even earlier than today. But you never know. I may just come home more exhausted then today..
Sunday, January 24, 2010
A Day of New People, with an open mind.
Today I went to Hyattsville Mennonite Church with Emily and Jess. This is the church that one of our professors in DC attends--Kim. We arrived early, and I didn't meet very many people. There was one person that we connected with while in the state of fellowship--her name is Annabeth. She was very kind, was a bit older than me, but had some good interests and a great attitude about what she was doing in DC. She was working in a garden, and the group was branching out to a women's crisis group, and were working to plant a garden in connection with that.
But it seemed that she was the only person that I connected with at that church. It seems that I am tired of visiting churches. It seems it's been a continuous thing I've been doing since my family moved last summer. I'm just getting used to the new church that we are currently attending (at home), and I'm good with the church my boyfriend's family attends, but I'm not really comfortable any church that I attended in Virginia--or in Pennsylvania (when I went to the Epps). The issue with this is that we have an assignment with our Faith and Urban Community part of the seminar class that we have to visit some churches and then compare them. I'm just churched out. I want to go back to a group that I know. I know everything changes. But I'm tired of being out of the loop. It's hard to go from a church that really knows you and you have one thousand inside jokes and know everybody's names, to a new church for three or four weeks before you have to go back to school and try again.
We were at the metro waiting for the train to arrive--weekends are so lame when it comes to waiting for trains--and so Jess and I decided to sing while waiting. It was fun, and then there was a guy listening and you could tell he really liked it, or he really liked us. Anyway, he interrupted us, and then asked us some questions, and talked to us through to his stop on the Metro, which was just one stop, so it was fine. His name was Nathaniel, and he asked us to get ahold of him if we ever wanted to find some good clubs, he said he'd be a good tour guide. He was interesting. He said he mixed music sometimes, and went to a studio. But both Jess and I decided that the only reason that either of us would go to a club was if it was with a big group, the club was free, and we would have to be in the mood.
Anyway, after church, I was planning to go to this brunch at the intentional community on Newton Street, and Jess came, though I know she did a bit more reluctantly than I would have hoped. It all changed when we actually arrived there. We stepped into this beautiful house, with great reused decorations like bike tires and the walls absolutely covered in postcards, letters, posters, art, inspirational EVERYTHING. I loved it! It was like a huge bedroom, so personalized.
We walked into a small table surrounded by a large amount of people, but they made room for more. Someone started saying Jess' name, and Jess soon realized that her friend from high school was in this intentional community. It was great. I sat in a yellow armchair that we had to rotate around to make room for anyone who wanted to escape out of that side of the table. I enjoyed some delicious eggs with broccoli and cheese, and a couple pieces of vegan french toast. There was also grapefruits, and cans of anchovies.
They went around the table several times with names (while eating), and then proceeded to do the wave a couple times, and one more time with Juliet's camera on the burst setting, capturing it.
Mike, the member of this intentional community that invited me, decided to try something weird. He combined the grapefruit with the anchovy and some hot sauce. Then ate it. It was entertaining.
I tried it later. It was an interesting mixture of flavors--the anchovy saltiness and the hot sauce hotness soon took over the entire tasting abilities of my mouth, but it was fine. I don't recommend it to those of the faint heart, though.
For a little while, there wasn't much going on, people were coming and going, and we were done eating, it was around then that Jess left, and I decided to hang around for a little while. Soon more people came, and more food was getting consumed. Then one of the two people there decided we should play the "Question-Answer" game--where one person writes a question, then the next answers it (without looking) and writes another question. Then all the papers were read after it was over. It was so funny, and great. I was sitting next to Anika, and was handing out utensils to write with, and handed what I thought was a normal #2 pencil to Mike, found out it was a pink erasable colored pencil, and giggled out loud, and Anika called me out on it. She said, "It's in your twenties that you start laughing at the things that you laughed at when you were seven."
When we were almost finished with that game, their Couch Surfers showed up. I still don't know the actual definition of a Couch Surfer, but it's basically someone who's in the city for the time being, and needs a place to stay, they look it up online, and get a couch. It's pretty simple and harmless--their guests were two young men--Yan and darnit-I-forget-the-other-guys-name--two German guys with backpacks who were attending a Physics conference with specifics on Magnetism. (LOL)
We played the "If-then" game after that, (same concept), then Mike had to walk his dog Christy, and several people headed out. At first it was just Anika, Mike, Christy, and myself, but we stopped at 14th and Monroe and waited for Juliet, who was coming with her camera. While waiting, Nadia and Drey passed on their bikes (also from the intentional community), and then we all walked Christy and went exploring through the neighborhood and alleys and taking pictures of interesting things. We ended up in this park near the Franciscan Monastery that had an ampitheater that hadn't been used since the seventies, so after an unsuccessful attempt to carve Anika's name into the tree, we went down to this leaf covered stage, with wood bleachers placed into the hill, and started doing improv. Nadia introduced the first act, as a scene of Siamese twins who become bunny rabbits. So Anika and I performed a comedic routine for the them, attached at the hip, getting surgery with the newest plastic surgeon techniques (a large stick separater), and then proceeded to jump around the stage. Other highlights--Nadia interpretively dancing to the Act of "What falls from the treetops", with me doing a vocal accompaniment. Then Mike's interpretation of the growth of an oak tree---he went from acorn falling off the tree (climbing a tree--the second time it was successful--, and "falling off" and rolling around like an acorn), to growing, and then being a full tree and losing another acorn (his hat). It was a great evening. Then we closed with the Sound of Music's "Goodbye" song, which no one actually knew. Then a father, his daughter, and two dogs of opposite nature came down the path from one direction, and tow park police from the other. We were all like, they did NOT call the cops on us for being in the park. And they didn't. The cops were just doing their rounds. But the little girl was completely adorable--she was carrying a plastic sword, and was a tiger hunter for the day. So priceless.
Then we walked back to my house. On the way, we walked down an alley and saw this car with a bashed out windshield that had been there awhile, so Anika and I decided to model on the broken car--"we're car saleswomen-models. We are working up to actual working cars."
We made it back to my house without more police (although we passed a police car and thought about modeling on it), and I went inside and realized that I needed to get going to the Peace Potluck after I had already made myself a brie sandwich (I may have to cut back on that Brie...). So then I headed out the door with a newly knit hat, a hand scarf, and a purple coat, and headed to Takoma Park, via Emily's directions, and I rode the Metro and then trekked to Mai Tri's house, which was a little further up the road than I thought, but I made it fine nonetheless.
I came in, sat right down, and immediately started a conversation with Jerica, who was a lively wonderful person to talk to. I knitted while we talked, and then she occupied some attention of a three year old with a Dr. Seuss book. They served the food, and there was pasta with eggplant (favorite of the night), veggie pizza, more cheese (hallelujah, I'm addicted to cheese), and a brownie with some attitude (aka Peanut Butter). I started talking to this girl names Elena because I had heard her name earlier (her friends were talking about her while we were in line) and I started to talk to her, and then three other girls joined us, and they all knew Emily Derstine, who they were MVSing with. I personally don't actually know Emily Derstine, but Jess does, we ran into her on the street when we were biking yesterday, and so it was really funny. Those girls were really nice, they said they'd met Ryan and Chris the same way I did--through Contra Dancing, and so it was nice to meet them. We are supposed to have a potluck with them at some point. I can't wait. It's not so intimidating now.
The actual Peace discussion was a little bit intense, as there were some people who turned a part of it into a debate and less of a discussion. I listened attentively at the beginning, but from where I was standing, toddlers were the main focus, so I enjoyed them, and I entertained one with my tongue stud. :P.
After the discussion, I helped with dishes, which was a lot of fun. I could tell that a lot of the people were very new to the intentional community, and they kept asking me where things went because they thought I was part of the intentional community. It was a lot of fun. I would love to live in an intentional community at some point in my life. They have two open rooms in their house right now, but the timing isn't right. I need to finish school before I head off to big cities and do crazy things. But their newest member, named Brett, was a rather nice guy, and knew about Mennonites (there aren't a whole bunch of people that know who Mennonites are in DC, but I now know where to look).
I'm looking forward to getting to know them more.
But it seemed that she was the only person that I connected with at that church. It seems that I am tired of visiting churches. It seems it's been a continuous thing I've been doing since my family moved last summer. I'm just getting used to the new church that we are currently attending (at home), and I'm good with the church my boyfriend's family attends, but I'm not really comfortable any church that I attended in Virginia--or in Pennsylvania (when I went to the Epps). The issue with this is that we have an assignment with our Faith and Urban Community part of the seminar class that we have to visit some churches and then compare them. I'm just churched out. I want to go back to a group that I know. I know everything changes. But I'm tired of being out of the loop. It's hard to go from a church that really knows you and you have one thousand inside jokes and know everybody's names, to a new church for three or four weeks before you have to go back to school and try again.
We were at the metro waiting for the train to arrive--weekends are so lame when it comes to waiting for trains--and so Jess and I decided to sing while waiting. It was fun, and then there was a guy listening and you could tell he really liked it, or he really liked us. Anyway, he interrupted us, and then asked us some questions, and talked to us through to his stop on the Metro, which was just one stop, so it was fine. His name was Nathaniel, and he asked us to get ahold of him if we ever wanted to find some good clubs, he said he'd be a good tour guide. He was interesting. He said he mixed music sometimes, and went to a studio. But both Jess and I decided that the only reason that either of us would go to a club was if it was with a big group, the club was free, and we would have to be in the mood.
Anyway, after church, I was planning to go to this brunch at the intentional community on Newton Street, and Jess came, though I know she did a bit more reluctantly than I would have hoped. It all changed when we actually arrived there. We stepped into this beautiful house, with great reused decorations like bike tires and the walls absolutely covered in postcards, letters, posters, art, inspirational EVERYTHING. I loved it! It was like a huge bedroom, so personalized.
We walked into a small table surrounded by a large amount of people, but they made room for more. Someone started saying Jess' name, and Jess soon realized that her friend from high school was in this intentional community. It was great. I sat in a yellow armchair that we had to rotate around to make room for anyone who wanted to escape out of that side of the table. I enjoyed some delicious eggs with broccoli and cheese, and a couple pieces of vegan french toast. There was also grapefruits, and cans of anchovies.
They went around the table several times with names (while eating), and then proceeded to do the wave a couple times, and one more time with Juliet's camera on the burst setting, capturing it.
Mike, the member of this intentional community that invited me, decided to try something weird. He combined the grapefruit with the anchovy and some hot sauce. Then ate it. It was entertaining.
I tried it later. It was an interesting mixture of flavors--the anchovy saltiness and the hot sauce hotness soon took over the entire tasting abilities of my mouth, but it was fine. I don't recommend it to those of the faint heart, though.
For a little while, there wasn't much going on, people were coming and going, and we were done eating, it was around then that Jess left, and I decided to hang around for a little while. Soon more people came, and more food was getting consumed. Then one of the two people there decided we should play the "Question-Answer" game--where one person writes a question, then the next answers it (without looking) and writes another question. Then all the papers were read after it was over. It was so funny, and great. I was sitting next to Anika, and was handing out utensils to write with, and handed what I thought was a normal #2 pencil to Mike, found out it was a pink erasable colored pencil, and giggled out loud, and Anika called me out on it. She said, "It's in your twenties that you start laughing at the things that you laughed at when you were seven."
When we were almost finished with that game, their Couch Surfers showed up. I still don't know the actual definition of a Couch Surfer, but it's basically someone who's in the city for the time being, and needs a place to stay, they look it up online, and get a couch. It's pretty simple and harmless--their guests were two young men--Yan and darnit-I-forget-the-other-guys-name--two German guys with backpacks who were attending a Physics conference with specifics on Magnetism. (LOL)
We played the "If-then" game after that, (same concept), then Mike had to walk his dog Christy, and several people headed out. At first it was just Anika, Mike, Christy, and myself, but we stopped at 14th and Monroe and waited for Juliet, who was coming with her camera. While waiting, Nadia and Drey passed on their bikes (also from the intentional community), and then we all walked Christy and went exploring through the neighborhood and alleys and taking pictures of interesting things. We ended up in this park near the Franciscan Monastery that had an ampitheater that hadn't been used since the seventies, so after an unsuccessful attempt to carve Anika's name into the tree, we went down to this leaf covered stage, with wood bleachers placed into the hill, and started doing improv. Nadia introduced the first act, as a scene of Siamese twins who become bunny rabbits. So Anika and I performed a comedic routine for the them, attached at the hip, getting surgery with the newest plastic surgeon techniques (a large stick separater), and then proceeded to jump around the stage. Other highlights--Nadia interpretively dancing to the Act of "What falls from the treetops", with me doing a vocal accompaniment. Then Mike's interpretation of the growth of an oak tree---he went from acorn falling off the tree (climbing a tree--the second time it was successful--, and "falling off" and rolling around like an acorn), to growing, and then being a full tree and losing another acorn (his hat). It was a great evening. Then we closed with the Sound of Music's "Goodbye" song, which no one actually knew. Then a father, his daughter, and two dogs of opposite nature came down the path from one direction, and tow park police from the other. We were all like, they did NOT call the cops on us for being in the park. And they didn't. The cops were just doing their rounds. But the little girl was completely adorable--she was carrying a plastic sword, and was a tiger hunter for the day. So priceless.
Then we walked back to my house. On the way, we walked down an alley and saw this car with a bashed out windshield that had been there awhile, so Anika and I decided to model on the broken car--"we're car saleswomen-models. We are working up to actual working cars."
We made it back to my house without more police (although we passed a police car and thought about modeling on it), and I went inside and realized that I needed to get going to the Peace Potluck after I had already made myself a brie sandwich (I may have to cut back on that Brie...). So then I headed out the door with a newly knit hat, a hand scarf, and a purple coat, and headed to Takoma Park, via Emily's directions, and I rode the Metro and then trekked to Mai Tri's house, which was a little further up the road than I thought, but I made it fine nonetheless.
I came in, sat right down, and immediately started a conversation with Jerica, who was a lively wonderful person to talk to. I knitted while we talked, and then she occupied some attention of a three year old with a Dr. Seuss book. They served the food, and there was pasta with eggplant (favorite of the night), veggie pizza, more cheese (hallelujah, I'm addicted to cheese), and a brownie with some attitude (aka Peanut Butter). I started talking to this girl names Elena because I had heard her name earlier (her friends were talking about her while we were in line) and I started to talk to her, and then three other girls joined us, and they all knew Emily Derstine, who they were MVSing with. I personally don't actually know Emily Derstine, but Jess does, we ran into her on the street when we were biking yesterday, and so it was really funny. Those girls were really nice, they said they'd met Ryan and Chris the same way I did--through Contra Dancing, and so it was nice to meet them. We are supposed to have a potluck with them at some point. I can't wait. It's not so intimidating now.
The actual Peace discussion was a little bit intense, as there were some people who turned a part of it into a debate and less of a discussion. I listened attentively at the beginning, but from where I was standing, toddlers were the main focus, so I enjoyed them, and I entertained one with my tongue stud. :P.
After the discussion, I helped with dishes, which was a lot of fun. I could tell that a lot of the people were very new to the intentional community, and they kept asking me where things went because they thought I was part of the intentional community. It was a lot of fun. I would love to live in an intentional community at some point in my life. They have two open rooms in their house right now, but the timing isn't right. I need to finish school before I head off to big cities and do crazy things. But their newest member, named Brett, was a rather nice guy, and knew about Mennonites (there aren't a whole bunch of people that know who Mennonites are in DC, but I now know where to look).
I'm looking forward to getting to know them more.
Connections. Dumpster Diving, and Cooking
So connections have already started coming along: I recently wrote about meeting an intentional community called Mai Tri--we met them when Emily took Andrew and I Contra Dancing last week. After Dumpster Diving this week, Bryan (I think) said that they were having a Peace Potluck, and that we were welcome to come! So I think Jess and I are going to go to that tomorrow night! Super exciting.
So if you haven't figured it out, we aren't going to be cooking on Sunday!! :)
Contra dancing was a lot of fun the second time. I had a lot of fun dancing with the old guys, because they know what they are doing! I'm getting the hang out it, and learning to spin more and more--it helps that I'm not wearing the "New Dancer" button, because Emily says they are more likely to spin you if you aren't wearing it. It's great though, because I don't have to lead in the dances.
We went Dumpster Diving-- another great experience. I just kinda dive into these kinds of things... literally. The people I go with always say something along the lines of "You are a trooper", or "you just really get in there". The funny thing is, I really get this kind of attitude from other people with a lot of different things--like volleyball, for example. Lindsay always says "you're so aggressive!" I guess I throw myself into things. Anything I love, or have always felt good about. Some people would call it passion. But am I passionate about dumpster diving? Maybe not, but I like the results, I like meeting different people, and I like the idea that I'm climbing through trash. So maybe so.
This morning I was woken by a phone call from Jess, which is completely fine--because it was 11:00 after all. She called because she was so excited about making granola. I came out of my room when I was awake enough, and giggled when I said hi to her. I got ready, and then we started with the granola. It wasn't a hard recipe, but we didn't have some of the ingredients, and so we were putting in more almonds because we didn't have sunflower seeds, and more raisins because we didn't have craisins. We also threw in some coconut, for kicks. We used Bruce's recipe. I emailed him about a week ago, because Jess really wanted granola, and I asked for the recipe. He sent it right back, and it was simple and looked like it would be great. And it was, is.
Jess decided that we also should make bread. I suggested Whole Wheat Bread, and she agreed. We found this recipe, No-Knead Whole Wheat Bread. We didn't know where it was taking us, because neither of us have made yeast breads without kneading them. We didn't kill the yeast with too hot of milk, and everything made sense--the dough rose, as planned, but it was weird because we spooned it into the pans, let it rise again, and put it in the oven. What we didn't expect happened next--the bread rose with insistence, and the two loaves merged together in the center, and threatened to roast to the ceiling of the stove. Jess intervened, and separated the adolescent loves, I mean, loaves, from each other, but they still were enormous, and huge. It was by far the largest whole wheat loaf I have ever seen before, and there was great rejoicing.
There, I got to see the Great Cats of DC, who were all pacing and waiting for their dinners, as shown when they would pace the entrance for the zookeepers. I really enjoyed the vertebrae house. This was my favorite place this time--everything was so colorful and rich. At first, I didn't know if I would like going through the zoo alone. But I found that it was a nice quiet change, as you don't have to wait for anyone, and take pictures at your ease. That was nice. We biked back to the house when Jess was done with her run, and found the sidewalk on Irving, thank goodness. Although I wasn't scared the first time, Jess said she was, and later on in the evening, she said that she was terrified of cars. Again with my weird fearless moments.
Fets and Bryan had gone to the Fish Market in town, and they got this huge chunk of salmon for ten dollars! Perfect proof that local shopping saves money. It was $2.00 a pound.
Jess had invited Emily over for her birthday and we were still deciding what we should eat for supper--there were only so many options without barging into anyone else's meal plans for the week. So we made breakfast for supper, using some cage-free eggs which Trader Joe's happily donated, and the pancake mix that we had in the cabinet. The guys ate all the bacon (only four pieces) before anyone else came, so it was okay. Then Emily came, bringing Kendra, Lex (both housemates), and Luis, a friend that Emily has known since she came to DC as a member of the WCSC house.
We had a great evening, finishing off some Secret Chocolate Cake (The secret, by the way, is beets), finding moldy oranges in the fruit bowl (some members of the house have been slacking, and may get scurvy in the near future), and playing what Emily calls Picture Pass it (I think. It's her form of Picture Telephone.) That was a lot of fun, especially trying to write, or draw after Bryan, who made Lisa Simpson look like a floating man, and Sarah Palin look like Davy Jones.
After that, we had popcorn, and watched "Milk", a movie about Harvey Milk who fought for Gay Rights in San Francisco in the 1970s. I have always been a little touchy on the homosexual idea, in honesty. It's hard for me to address, because I am heterosexual, and I have no idea where they are coming from. It's not that I'm offended by this. The acts of homosexuality are made for the same reasons as heterosexuality in the aspect that people love each other. It's just a weird thing to think about, and people and the society that I have lived in have established that being gay is a bad thing, and that these people are outcasts, petaphiles, and perverts. And I know they aren't, and I love people for who they are and who God created them to be. I also understand struggles, though they aren't the same as my own, I know how it feels to be made fun of and not taken seriously. This movie really informed me of the fight that they gave to get the rights they have now. I find it horrible that people were killed, discriminated against, and hated because of their sexual orientation. It kills me. But I have taken the silent vow, and not taken seriously the people who support those who are gay. "Milk" made me realize that you cannot be neutral about this. You either love them or hate them. And I am a lover, not a hater. So just as Jesus showed love to those sinners, and ate with them, I will show love to people who are different.
We talked about flirting, and knitting, and then everyone went to bed. Except me, now.
Friday, January 22, 2010
(Sigh) oh life.
So I was certain today would hold no excitement, and that it would be pointless to blog about.
Fail.
I mean, YAY. You get to read something. But the point of the story is, I knew that if I went somewhere there would be a story to tell. I just didn't expect it this way. I never do. It's totally unexpected and I almost never see it coming.
This time I sort of did, though.
I spent my morning being assertive, a good kid, a bump on a log. I wrote a letter to Zach, and then I spent a good portion on Facebook. Which brought on a blog. Or two. Today is the day of blogging.
I decided about three o'clock that I was going to walk to the Glut Food Co-op.
It was about two miles away from the house, and I figured that would be a great walk for me. I had been sitting around the house blogging.
So I walked the 24 blocks to the natural food store! There were some middle school boys that said something like:
"So you like walking? That's cool. How old are you?"
I only answered the first question. Yes, I like walking.
I got to the store and started writing down prices for bulk food that I figured we might use for something at any point in our house. I must have been there for an hour or something. I started to feel a little weird, and realized I should probably eat something soon. There were three sections of the store, one with bulk food and produce, one with spices and a place to make organic peanut butter, and in the third part of the store was mostly packaged healthy food, with a bit of bulk pasta.
I was walking back through the store to the bulk and produce section when someone who worked there was walking through and asked me if I was finding everything fine. I said I was, and continued on my way, writing down things to consider.
Then a shot time later, I was by the leafy produce, calling Andrew to see if they bought the kale yet, and the same guy was looking through the ready-made organic options fridge for something to eat. He was talking outloud--
"I want something substantial, but all I see is the chickpea salad."
I caught on at this point. He can't decide to speak to me directly. I pointed out the "power sandwich."
"That sounds good, but I love rye bread. Gotta go with the rye bread."
Which led to a brief conversation about bread. And he asked me what I was writing down.
I said I was trying to convert my group house to eating bulk food. He asked where I was in DC, and it turns out that he lives in Brookland too. He then figured out that I was a Mennonite, because he asked if I was from the Mennonite house on Taylor.
But he was making a lot of eye contact.
Then I legitimately had a question.
"Does the milk you sell here make cheese?"
And then he recommended a yahoo group that sells raw milk for Pet purposes, or legality reasons. And it's $7.00 a gallon, but it's raw milk nonetheless. Made me happy.
Then he pointed out the cheese section. And I was needing some legitimate mozzarella, so I bought some. But from his register. . . (mistake? I don't think so. I'm connecting with people in the community.)
Thus, after I bought it, he said,
"You should check out my house."
and then, woe is me, being polite-- "ok. What's your name?"
"Mike, Mike Turner. We should go bike riding sometime" Then he proceeded to take a business card, write his name, address, and then scribbled his phone number on it too. "What's your name?"
"Grace."
Then I left, and speed walked home because it was starting to get darker outside, and I was fighting these thoughts in my head. Why is it always me who gets hit on? I never hear about it from any of the other girls. Marie is the most beautiful person in the world and she's never been hit on in her life!
It's my sob story. Why should I complain about being good looking or having a personality that other people like? Because I hate having to follow up the conversation with "Yeah, and my boyfriend"
because it's awkward.
But life is full of awkwardness that can easily be overcome.
And thus I welcome awkwardness. But with boundaries.
In all honesty, I wish that this didn't happen that I could just be friends with everyone I meet and not have to worry about people who are like that.
oh well.
men.
Volleyball was fun, though frustrating--my team wasn't quite cohesive as much as I would have liked We had some awesome plays though. It was interesting to learn about Tammy, who teaches sign language to people around the area, and learn the names of some of the younger people--Smoot and D, not your typical names. They are cool guys, though they hard to understand, and I trash talk a bit with them. That's your typical Grace, though. I get way into it.
I got to help Aleks with math today. That was a nice refresher, and I keep remembering how much I enjoy math, and also my rather obscure ways of solving all the problems.
Jess and Jas made Chocolate Secret Cake (it had beets in it) and it was delicious--reminds me of the Chocolate Zucchini Cake that Anna loves to have on her birthday. But Jess was eating it--she declared that if anything delicious is sitting in front of her, she'll just eat it and keep eating. So I moved the cate out of range, but not after a Chocolate Baby was conceived... then some self defense moves were taken out on the table.. but all was well.
Fail.
I mean, YAY. You get to read something. But the point of the story is, I knew that if I went somewhere there would be a story to tell. I just didn't expect it this way. I never do. It's totally unexpected and I almost never see it coming.
This time I sort of did, though.
I spent my morning being assertive, a good kid, a bump on a log. I wrote a letter to Zach, and then I spent a good portion on Facebook. Which brought on a blog. Or two. Today is the day of blogging.
I decided about three o'clock that I was going to walk to the Glut Food Co-op.
It was about two miles away from the house, and I figured that would be a great walk for me. I had been sitting around the house blogging.
So I walked the 24 blocks to the natural food store! There were some middle school boys that said something like:
"So you like walking? That's cool. How old are you?"
I only answered the first question. Yes, I like walking.
I got to the store and started writing down prices for bulk food that I figured we might use for something at any point in our house. I must have been there for an hour or something. I started to feel a little weird, and realized I should probably eat something soon. There were three sections of the store, one with bulk food and produce, one with spices and a place to make organic peanut butter, and in the third part of the store was mostly packaged healthy food, with a bit of bulk pasta.
I was walking back through the store to the bulk and produce section when someone who worked there was walking through and asked me if I was finding everything fine. I said I was, and continued on my way, writing down things to consider.
Then a shot time later, I was by the leafy produce, calling Andrew to see if they bought the kale yet, and the same guy was looking through the ready-made organic options fridge for something to eat. He was talking outloud--
"I want something substantial, but all I see is the chickpea salad."
I caught on at this point. He can't decide to speak to me directly. I pointed out the "power sandwich."
"That sounds good, but I love rye bread. Gotta go with the rye bread."
Which led to a brief conversation about bread. And he asked me what I was writing down.
I said I was trying to convert my group house to eating bulk food. He asked where I was in DC, and it turns out that he lives in Brookland too. He then figured out that I was a Mennonite, because he asked if I was from the Mennonite house on Taylor.
But he was making a lot of eye contact.
Then I legitimately had a question.
"Does the milk you sell here make cheese?"
And then he recommended a yahoo group that sells raw milk for Pet purposes, or legality reasons. And it's $7.00 a gallon, but it's raw milk nonetheless. Made me happy.
Then he pointed out the cheese section. And I was needing some legitimate mozzarella, so I bought some. But from his register. . . (mistake? I don't think so. I'm connecting with people in the community.)
Thus, after I bought it, he said,
"You should check out my house."
and then, woe is me, being polite-- "ok. What's your name?"
"Mike, Mike Turner. We should go bike riding sometime" Then he proceeded to take a business card, write his name, address, and then scribbled his phone number on it too. "What's your name?"
"Grace."
Then I left, and speed walked home because it was starting to get darker outside, and I was fighting these thoughts in my head. Why is it always me who gets hit on? I never hear about it from any of the other girls. Marie is the most beautiful person in the world and she's never been hit on in her life!
It's my sob story. Why should I complain about being good looking or having a personality that other people like? Because I hate having to follow up the conversation with "Yeah, and my boyfriend"
because it's awkward.
But life is full of awkwardness that can easily be overcome.
And thus I welcome awkwardness. But with boundaries.
In all honesty, I wish that this didn't happen that I could just be friends with everyone I meet and not have to worry about people who are like that.
oh well.
men.
Volleyball was fun, though frustrating--my team wasn't quite cohesive as much as I would have liked We had some awesome plays though. It was interesting to learn about Tammy, who teaches sign language to people around the area, and learn the names of some of the younger people--Smoot and D, not your typical names. They are cool guys, though they hard to understand, and I trash talk a bit with them. That's your typical Grace, though. I get way into it.
I got to help Aleks with math today. That was a nice refresher, and I keep remembering how much I enjoy math, and also my rather obscure ways of solving all the problems.
Jess and Jas made Chocolate Secret Cake (it had beets in it) and it was delicious--reminds me of the Chocolate Zucchini Cake that Anna loves to have on her birthday. But Jess was eating it--she declared that if anything delicious is sitting in front of her, she'll just eat it and keep eating. So I moved the cate out of range, but not after a Chocolate Baby was conceived... then some self defense moves were taken out on the table.. but all was well.
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Where I have come from: Health and Exercise-wise
My name is Grace, and I was in Weight Watchers in middle school. My Aunt Rachel had lost 100 pounds on Weight Watchers and had reached her goal the summer before I went into seventh grade, and the Art Teacher that I volunteered for had also joined Weight Watchers and was an example for me as I was very overweight for a twelve year old. I joined Weight Watchers at the end of October in 2003, and after a year of staying with the program and writing everything down that I ate, with a couple of relapses and plateaus, I lost a little more than 45 pounds and was considered healthy on the BMI scale. I made Lifetime membership with Weight Watchers and could attend the meetings free as long as I stayed within two pounds of my goal.
High school came around and though I made sure that I exercised, I slacked on the writing down of what I ate, and put on a little bit of weight. Then I would exercise and eat right for a little while and then lose five to ten pounds. But then I'd be happy again--probably a new boyfriend or down a size in clothes, and I'd slack off and gain a little bit of weight again. This whole situation would then rinse and repeat.
There were a couple habits I picked up on the way. On Weight Watchers, there is a points system, and depending on your weight and the amount of activity your normal lifestyle includes, you get a certain amount of points. Vegetables are mostly 0 points, thus a free food, and thus I would/do/will eat large portions of vegetables, and now it's habitual that I eat a lot of veggies to fill up my stomach.
I discovered Splenda. At first it was just supposed to be an ingredient in Weight Watchers recipes that we'd copy down each week at the meetings, and then I started using it in my milkshakes I made for breakfast, and then in oatmeal, and then I started to have a habitual addiction to my homemade hot chocolate water (which is cocoa powder, Splenda, mostly hot water and a little bit of cold milk).
When I started going to University of Akron, I'd buy a diet Mountain Dew, or a low carb energy drink, and by the end of the two years I commuted there, I was drinking two diet Mountain Dews, or other carbonated drinks each day--I really had no self control in the area of drinking these drinks.
Then my friend Wendy and I started going to Dunkin' Donuts to get iced coffee--it started with those coupons for free drinks. We branched out to the local Starbucks, and then we would hang out at Target. When Pulp showed up in town, we'd go get smoothies. They were amazing. I was pretty much addicted to the sweet drinks. I somehow exercised enough to make it okay, and maintained my weight.
I've been eating whole wheat and whole grain, natural sugars, and anything that is an alternative to an unhealthy option. But my motives were all wrong. This past semester, I realized why I should eat healthy, and that reason was not to be sexy. Although eating righteously does have a certain appeal...
I eat local food to support local economy, I know where it comes from, and I know that people are taking care of the plants and animals--it's not in a factory. I buy food at a co-op because I know it supports those it is surrounded by, and even though it's more expensive, it's better for the world long term. I avoid high fructose corn syrup because they derive it from corn. Which is a vegetable. I don't eat meat because I know that the meat was produced using excessive amounts of water, and that the cows were in pens that were squeezed tight and were suffering their entire lives. I buy fair trade chocolate and coffee because I know that the people in the other countries were not slaves in their own trade.
That's why I eat healthy. I exercise, not to lose weight, but to meet people. I walk places to become familiar with the community, and to take my time with life. I run to communicate with others. I move to get places. It's not about losing weight or being thin, or having a six pack. It's about finding a healthy routine in life that benefits me in the long run, so that I can live long and prosper with what life is about.
High school came around and though I made sure that I exercised, I slacked on the writing down of what I ate, and put on a little bit of weight. Then I would exercise and eat right for a little while and then lose five to ten pounds. But then I'd be happy again--probably a new boyfriend or down a size in clothes, and I'd slack off and gain a little bit of weight again. This whole situation would then rinse and repeat.
There were a couple habits I picked up on the way. On Weight Watchers, there is a points system, and depending on your weight and the amount of activity your normal lifestyle includes, you get a certain amount of points. Vegetables are mostly 0 points, thus a free food, and thus I would/do/will eat large portions of vegetables, and now it's habitual that I eat a lot of veggies to fill up my stomach.
I discovered Splenda. At first it was just supposed to be an ingredient in Weight Watchers recipes that we'd copy down each week at the meetings, and then I started using it in my milkshakes I made for breakfast, and then in oatmeal, and then I started to have a habitual addiction to my homemade hot chocolate water (which is cocoa powder, Splenda, mostly hot water and a little bit of cold milk).
When I started going to University of Akron, I'd buy a diet Mountain Dew, or a low carb energy drink, and by the end of the two years I commuted there, I was drinking two diet Mountain Dews, or other carbonated drinks each day--I really had no self control in the area of drinking these drinks.
Then my friend Wendy and I started going to Dunkin' Donuts to get iced coffee--it started with those coupons for free drinks. We branched out to the local Starbucks, and then we would hang out at Target. When Pulp showed up in town, we'd go get smoothies. They were amazing. I was pretty much addicted to the sweet drinks. I somehow exercised enough to make it okay, and maintained my weight.
I've been eating whole wheat and whole grain, natural sugars, and anything that is an alternative to an unhealthy option. But my motives were all wrong. This past semester, I realized why I should eat healthy, and that reason was not to be sexy. Although eating righteously does have a certain appeal...
I eat local food to support local economy, I know where it comes from, and I know that people are taking care of the plants and animals--it's not in a factory. I buy food at a co-op because I know it supports those it is surrounded by, and even though it's more expensive, it's better for the world long term. I avoid high fructose corn syrup because they derive it from corn. Which is a vegetable. I don't eat meat because I know that the meat was produced using excessive amounts of water, and that the cows were in pens that were squeezed tight and were suffering their entire lives. I buy fair trade chocolate and coffee because I know that the people in the other countries were not slaves in their own trade.
That's why I eat healthy. I exercise, not to lose weight, but to meet people. I walk places to become familiar with the community, and to take my time with life. I run to communicate with others. I move to get places. It's not about losing weight or being thin, or having a six pack. It's about finding a healthy routine in life that benefits me in the long run, so that I can live long and prosper with what life is about.
You know it's in the Corners of Your Mind
What happened to the people that we knew in elementary school?
Because of networking websites like Facebook, everyone's need to stalk other people, just the idea of dwelling in the past, and remembering the good times, we can now connect with people that we never thought that we'd see or hear from again. I have several examples of this.
It always helps to reconnect with the people that we knew, but in the end, you've both changed, and the last word is that you both knew each other once, but you all changed so much that it's almost impossible to connect with them and be good friends, unless you discard the past and start over.
I think that doing just that is rather difficult.
I see pictures of people that I used to know, and note how much they changed. The problem with facebook is that it gives everyone access to everyone's information--so it's easy to learn a lot about someone, but not know them. So I could be the most informed person on Facebook, but be a recluse and never talk to people (which isn't what I am, by the way).
I just find it hard to watch people that I used to know, the innocent and beautiful-without-makeup people cover themselves with mascara and foundation until all they are is another Barbie in the world of millions of Barbies, who all look blonde and the same. And it's even more difficult to watch the once playground-induced fun become drinking, drugs, and sexy "fun."
I have a hard time with that.
Facebook has it's perks. I can network myself, or things I want people to know about, and can tag people to get them to know what I'm up to. I can post pictures and my friends in Florida and California can look at the pictures and tell me what they think about my life. I can keep in contact with my cousins, and chat with friends that I met in Pennsylvania. I can wish Happy Birthday to people, even though I would inevitably not even know about their birthday otherwise. So I'm thankful for the notifications in that aspect.
At the same time, people can dance on the line of stalking others by looking through all the pictures that they are tagged in. (and I am by no means innocent of this). People can follow wall to walls of others who they suspect might start dating... (which I am not guilty of)
I think that Facebook is a great way to connect with people through the internet and there are so many great options that let us find our friends that we danced with a couple times at Mormon Prom our sophomore year in high school, or the kids that were in Sunday School with us when we were toddlers in Tulsa Oklahoma.
My favorite is when you find that guy that you had a crush on in middle school that you didn't even tell your friends about, and then you see what a nice (or loserhead) he has become.
One of the things that I am most thankful for on Facebook is within the Facebook chat, actually. You can separate your friends into catergories--and make lists of people that you know from one place or another--a tactic that can help you remember each person in case you forget. Which is completely wonderful. But something really useful-- if there's a person that you don't want to offend by removing their friendship (how obvious is that??) you can block them on online chat by making them into their own group, and then putting that individual group offline at all times. I've only done that a couple times. I don't like creepers.
I'm thankful for Facebook, for the ways I can connect with people, and hopefully make them laugh in their days, by making stupid comments on their photos, or random chats on Facebook chat. I love that I can keep in contact with my family and Zach's family through it, and have better connections through it.
Because of networking websites like Facebook, everyone's need to stalk other people, just the idea of dwelling in the past, and remembering the good times, we can now connect with people that we never thought that we'd see or hear from again. I have several examples of this.
It always helps to reconnect with the people that we knew, but in the end, you've both changed, and the last word is that you both knew each other once, but you all changed so much that it's almost impossible to connect with them and be good friends, unless you discard the past and start over.
I think that doing just that is rather difficult.
I see pictures of people that I used to know, and note how much they changed. The problem with facebook is that it gives everyone access to everyone's information--so it's easy to learn a lot about someone, but not know them. So I could be the most informed person on Facebook, but be a recluse and never talk to people (which isn't what I am, by the way).
I just find it hard to watch people that I used to know, the innocent and beautiful-without-makeup people cover themselves with mascara and foundation until all they are is another Barbie in the world of millions of Barbies, who all look blonde and the same. And it's even more difficult to watch the once playground-induced fun become drinking, drugs, and sexy "fun."
I have a hard time with that.
Facebook has it's perks. I can network myself, or things I want people to know about, and can tag people to get them to know what I'm up to. I can post pictures and my friends in Florida and California can look at the pictures and tell me what they think about my life. I can keep in contact with my cousins, and chat with friends that I met in Pennsylvania. I can wish Happy Birthday to people, even though I would inevitably not even know about their birthday otherwise. So I'm thankful for the notifications in that aspect.
At the same time, people can dance on the line of stalking others by looking through all the pictures that they are tagged in. (and I am by no means innocent of this). People can follow wall to walls of others who they suspect might start dating... (which I am not guilty of)
I think that Facebook is a great way to connect with people through the internet and there are so many great options that let us find our friends that we danced with a couple times at Mormon Prom our sophomore year in high school, or the kids that were in Sunday School with us when we were toddlers in Tulsa Oklahoma.
My favorite is when you find that guy that you had a crush on in middle school that you didn't even tell your friends about, and then you see what a nice (or loserhead) he has become.
One of the things that I am most thankful for on Facebook is within the Facebook chat, actually. You can separate your friends into catergories--and make lists of people that you know from one place or another--a tactic that can help you remember each person in case you forget. Which is completely wonderful. But something really useful-- if there's a person that you don't want to offend by removing their friendship (how obvious is that??) you can block them on online chat by making them into their own group, and then putting that individual group offline at all times. I've only done that a couple times. I don't like creepers.
I'm thankful for Facebook, for the ways I can connect with people, and hopefully make them laugh in their days, by making stupid comments on their photos, or random chats on Facebook chat. I love that I can keep in contact with my family and Zach's family through it, and have better connections through it.
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
Day In & Day Out
Day In
Tuesday was busy (thus no blog), even though I wasn't at my internship, I got up really late, and went to bed rather early.
I awakened to the melody of something weird coming from the TV, and my housemates laughing. But it was okay--at 11:30 in the morning, one doesn't complain about waking up late. I just wished that they would have been loud after they'd left the house, but the guys are kind and funny, so I forgave them.
I spent my morning on my feet--there was some pesky, will-not-be-used-Asian spices. (A couple years ago, after Eileen and Wendy moved out of the house, they took most of the food stuff they used, but they did leave some stuff, and as much as we meant to use it, we were too sick of Taiwanese food to even think about touching it. We threw most of it out. I think Mom held onto some tea, in the memory of Eileen, and all of their Good Times. It's still in the tea cabinet.) Anyway, that was what I call an extended explanation with a rabbit trail. So I sorted out the spice cabinet, whilst moving strange Asian Spices. Now there is lots more room for...hopefully not more spices. We really need a way to organize it--like for example, my mom has a spinning two layer lazy Susan, small enough to fit in out spice cabinet at home. We need one of those here. Especially for separating spices to discover which ones we have or not (it seems like there was some miscommunication for the last spice cabinet captain, because there were three half used basil, oregano, and red pepper...
Before he left, Sanjay got a look of a Christmas tree for a moment, and exclaimed "you should make cheesecake cupcakes." I told him if he gave me the recipe I would, and he emailed it to me, and I made them. They were very tasty. They didn't last long in our house.
It was a great afternoon, I got a lot done, and unloaded the dishwasher a couple times, and then I walked to the post office.
It was a little bit more a trek than I thought it would be, but I made it there and got my stamps, but not after waiting a little while, and listening to one woman tell her friend about her black dentist, and the false teeth that he gave her. There was a gentleman opening the post office door for everyone coming in. That made my day.
There were just so many people out on the streets; it was a really nice day. No weirdos, actually. There were little kids walking home from school--and I was happy to see one of them carrying a clarinet case. I was going to ask him about it, but he turned instead of waiting at the crosswalk.
I went to YES organic food market, and used my cheap grocery logic, and picked a ball of mozzarella, a carton of brown eggs, a jar of organic Prego spaghetti sauce, and two zucchini for some recipes coming up in the week. (Lindsay is in charge of the petty cash, and as long as we don't overspend our $300 for the week for food, I can get a refund in exchange for my recipe.)
What I didn't realize about the food that I bought, and my insisting on using my backpack to carry them home, is that it isn't wise to carry glass jars and eggs, fresh produce and soft cheese in the same bag, but i somehow made it home without bruising or breaking anything. Yay!
I bought the mozzarella for the lasagna that I was making for supper. I figured that I would shred it myself, and save myself the money. I did shred it myself, but it was a lot softer than mozzarella cheese has ever been for me before, so it was slightly messy. (We also decided as a house that we were going to buy blocks of cheese and shred them ourselves, because we use so much cheese, to save money. I'm really happy that I have a say on what we should do to reduce cost. Next step, powdered milk yogurt. Mom, by the way, I need to find the recipe for that. Is it in More with Less?
I made lasagna, with much passion, and skill. It made the house smell like Italian heaven. I then made Garlic Broccoli, though a little overcooked and almost burnt it. Corrie had gotten back from work by this point, and was making a salad, so I think I was a little distracted. It didn't help that it was on high heat, as the recipe declares. I think more than a half cup water was necessary.
Dinner was yummy, then some of us worked on the paper that was due today. I'd finished my half of Fets and I's paper, and so I was all set to go play volley ball. Only Lindsay, Andrew, and I played volleyball. Corrie was there, running, but she decided not to play volleyball--she's training for a marathon in April.
Volleyball was a blast, as usual, but I felt like I was actually learning something. I thought I couldn't set the ball at all. But it turns out that I can--I guess I just didn't really have any confidence. But what I was learning, and you learn more each time, is that the back row returns the serve when it's first over the net with a bump (which you don't swing, you just place yourself where the ball is coming), then the middle front or who ever is closest sets it, and if someone is in the front row, they should slam it (or in Lindsay's case, punch it) over the net. You can't hit the net, you can't cross the line under the net when hitting, you can't cross the back line when you are. If your team isn't playing, you are a line judge or keeping points at the net; I was a line judge. Hands down is "in", hands up is "out". Volleyball on Tuesday goes from 7-8:30, which basically means that we play as close to 9:00 as we possibly can, so close that they will yell at us.
I came home and went to bed at 10:30, because I had to wake up early to get to my bus to ride to Tenleytown.
Day Out
I woke up at 7:20 to get ready. Then I left the house by 8:20, which, as I was certain, I was on time to the schedule that I'd written down. When I got to the bus stop, I was on time, and I waited for the bus. I knew which bus I needed to get on--H4, heading toward Tenleytown. And I also know that Brookland was the end of the the H4 bus route, and that Tenleytown was the other end. So you would understand why I was confused when the H4 bus came with the heading of "Van Ness UDC". I knew this was close to Tenleytown, but I didn't get why they didn't just put Tenleytown.. and my directions said that it was toward Tenleytown, and then I was mad at WMATA, confused, as I got on the bus, and started riding. I got out my notebook and looked at the directions that I was supposed to follow.
"Directions to Tenleytown: @7:20 leave for Metro, take H4 bus toward Tenleytown."
Shoot. I woke up an hour late. The difference was that I wasn't stressed, and now that I was on the bus on my way there was nothing I could do about it. So I read Animal, Vegetable, Miracle and waited. And waited. 8:45, my proposed time of arrival, came and went, and I rode the bus and read. I got impatient, got off the bus near a Redline Station, asked for directions to the Metro (a kind, middle-aged, chic lady pointed me in the right direction), got on the Metro, rode it until Tenleytown station two stops later, climbed the stairs, and crossed the street to Wilson High School just as the H4 bus arrived. . . Talk about irony.
I went into the school, signed in and went through the security, really fast, though there were some students that were messing around that were giving the security guard a pain in her butt. I got to Colman's room at 9:40, a little later than I wanted to, but when I got there, Colman was chill and I just sat right down, and joined in with what was going on.
He was actually reading through some of his self-made evaluations--I think that parts that he found humorous--and that led to some discussions about catcalling, abuse in relationships, and movies that they watched in class. During class, some people got distracted--Adrian was on his iPod looking up facts on HIV/AIDS part of the time, while eating Mike 'n' Ikes, and drinking a red colored soda. Some students came into class after I did. (Colman doesn't make his students take tests because it's an unfair way to test them, so there wasn't a final exam). And of course, you have your sleepers, extended-bathroom-break-ers, and those that blow their nose out in the hall several times during class (although I think he's legitimate).
After class, Colman was going to find out the schedule for next semester, but the information wasn't quite ready yet. I rode the bus home. On the way, a woman and her six-month-old baby got on and sat next to me. I started a conversation with her. Actually, the little boy, but directed toward her.
"Where are you going?" I asked him.
"We're going home. We just got immunization shots." She responded..
"What's his name?"
"Chekeesee" (I think. It was something like this.)
She talked about how he addresses adults with an assertive "uuu", but not children, and decided that she wants to put him in daycare so he'll interact with other babies a little more. It was wonderful. Then he was talking to me, while I was reading, and she shushed him, and told him that "You shouldn't interrupt her reading." It was so sweet.
I got a phone call from Sanj on my way home telling me to finish Fets and I's paper because Fets' mom and he went out for lunch. So I rushed home, made eggs on toast, celery and apple slices, then abandoned my dinner and ran to Fets' computer and attempted to type a conclusion paragraph. I usually don't put off writing papers down to the last second, so it was kind of hard for me to conclude on what we were writing... but I poopled something out.
Our first official seminar class was okay. I took notes for everything so I didn't lose Doug. I was sorta tired so my mind was everywhere. I was thinking about shopping later, how much I missed Zach, how hungry I was, what I was going to eat when break started, and of course what we were talking about in class. But it was a miscellaneous thought mix.
After class, Christa and I walked to PNC Bank, CVS, Yes Organic on 12th street. It was a little cooler than my walk yesterday, but we got there without dying from the cold, it was more of a slight brisk feeling. We walked over to the bank, and I was going to cash Lindsay and Jessica's checks--they endorsed them and everything and I signed the checks as well, but the teller said that the other person whose checks they were had to be there with identifiable ID, and that was frustrating.
We walked to CVS and located the loofahs (all over $3), then proceeded to the dishwasher soap. I went to ask about getting a CVS card, one clerk said I couldn't get one because they were out of applications, but I asked another, politely, and she gave me a card and told me to register online. Talk about efficient.
Only thing is, we got back and CVS.com was NOT behaving. But no matter. We still got a working card. (for now.)
We stopped and walked through YES! organic, and found a wonderful mini bulk section! Christa and I wrote down prices for the things we thought we might buy in bulk, and then walked home.
Dinner was interesting. As it usually is when there aren't any other options for veggietarians besides leftover lasagna and rice. Yay for for green beans and dumper dove organic sliced apples. I have had so many in the past week. That and celery. I could live on the two.. and peanut butter, and chocolate.
Speaking of vegetarianism. It's going well. All the vegetarians are talking of eating fish in the next week, and I think I will participate in that ritual. As far as the Splenda cold-turkey experiment is going, I'm surviving. I have been participating in the ritual of eating natural sugar, and I don't think my figure is suffering. For now, I have to watch the dark chocolate though. It sneaks up on me. And then shoves itself into my mouth. And I cannot help myself.
We had a pre shopping meeting, and a house meeting (with post shopping notes) and then Christa and I chatted about majors and boys, while exchanging back rubs.
I was looking through the drawers of the TV stand (there are six drawers--it's a BIG TV stand), and I located several magazines that are begging to be cut up tomorrow!! :) There was also random things like prohibited thumb tacks, which may or may not be pushed into my wall this semester for collages...
But the best find, even of the magazines--a book--How to Live Your Dream of Volunteering Overseas.
Woot Woot! Yaya. I'm totally going to read that this weekend when almost no one is here and I have all this time to be a bump on a log. And then I will tell you of my life plans.
By the way, I contemplated being an English Teacher today. It might be something in my future. But as of now, I'm content taking 300 level English Writing courses to satisfy my LIberal Arts and graduating in 2011. What you think?
PSBTW. My thumb is getting a blister from typing.....
Tuesday was busy (thus no blog), even though I wasn't at my internship, I got up really late, and went to bed rather early.
I awakened to the melody of something weird coming from the TV, and my housemates laughing. But it was okay--at 11:30 in the morning, one doesn't complain about waking up late. I just wished that they would have been loud after they'd left the house, but the guys are kind and funny, so I forgave them.
I spent my morning on my feet--there was some pesky, will-not-be-used-Asian spices. (A couple years ago, after Eileen and Wendy moved out of the house, they took most of the food stuff they used, but they did leave some stuff, and as much as we meant to use it, we were too sick of Taiwanese food to even think about touching it. We threw most of it out. I think Mom held onto some tea, in the memory of Eileen, and all of their Good Times. It's still in the tea cabinet.) Anyway, that was what I call an extended explanation with a rabbit trail. So I sorted out the spice cabinet, whilst moving strange Asian Spices. Now there is lots more room for...hopefully not more spices. We really need a way to organize it--like for example, my mom has a spinning two layer lazy Susan, small enough to fit in out spice cabinet at home. We need one of those here. Especially for separating spices to discover which ones we have or not (it seems like there was some miscommunication for the last spice cabinet captain, because there were three half used basil, oregano, and red pepper...
Before he left, Sanjay got a look of a Christmas tree for a moment, and exclaimed "you should make cheesecake cupcakes." I told him if he gave me the recipe I would, and he emailed it to me, and I made them. They were very tasty. They didn't last long in our house.
It was a great afternoon, I got a lot done, and unloaded the dishwasher a couple times, and then I walked to the post office.
It was a little bit more a trek than I thought it would be, but I made it there and got my stamps, but not after waiting a little while, and listening to one woman tell her friend about her black dentist, and the false teeth that he gave her. There was a gentleman opening the post office door for everyone coming in. That made my day.
There were just so many people out on the streets; it was a really nice day. No weirdos, actually. There were little kids walking home from school--and I was happy to see one of them carrying a clarinet case. I was going to ask him about it, but he turned instead of waiting at the crosswalk.
I went to YES organic food market, and used my cheap grocery logic, and picked a ball of mozzarella, a carton of brown eggs, a jar of organic Prego spaghetti sauce, and two zucchini for some recipes coming up in the week. (Lindsay is in charge of the petty cash, and as long as we don't overspend our $300 for the week for food, I can get a refund in exchange for my recipe.)
What I didn't realize about the food that I bought, and my insisting on using my backpack to carry them home, is that it isn't wise to carry glass jars and eggs, fresh produce and soft cheese in the same bag, but i somehow made it home without bruising or breaking anything. Yay!
I bought the mozzarella for the lasagna that I was making for supper. I figured that I would shred it myself, and save myself the money. I did shred it myself, but it was a lot softer than mozzarella cheese has ever been for me before, so it was slightly messy. (We also decided as a house that we were going to buy blocks of cheese and shred them ourselves, because we use so much cheese, to save money. I'm really happy that I have a say on what we should do to reduce cost. Next step, powdered milk yogurt. Mom, by the way, I need to find the recipe for that. Is it in More with Less?
I made lasagna, with much passion, and skill. It made the house smell like Italian heaven. I then made Garlic Broccoli, though a little overcooked and almost burnt it. Corrie had gotten back from work by this point, and was making a salad, so I think I was a little distracted. It didn't help that it was on high heat, as the recipe declares. I think more than a half cup water was necessary.
Dinner was yummy, then some of us worked on the paper that was due today. I'd finished my half of Fets and I's paper, and so I was all set to go play volley ball. Only Lindsay, Andrew, and I played volleyball. Corrie was there, running, but she decided not to play volleyball--she's training for a marathon in April.
Volleyball was a blast, as usual, but I felt like I was actually learning something. I thought I couldn't set the ball at all. But it turns out that I can--I guess I just didn't really have any confidence. But what I was learning, and you learn more each time, is that the back row returns the serve when it's first over the net with a bump (which you don't swing, you just place yourself where the ball is coming), then the middle front or who ever is closest sets it, and if someone is in the front row, they should slam it (or in Lindsay's case, punch it) over the net. You can't hit the net, you can't cross the line under the net when hitting, you can't cross the back line when you are. If your team isn't playing, you are a line judge or keeping points at the net; I was a line judge. Hands down is "in", hands up is "out". Volleyball on Tuesday goes from 7-8:30, which basically means that we play as close to 9:00 as we possibly can, so close that they will yell at us.
I came home and went to bed at 10:30, because I had to wake up early to get to my bus to ride to Tenleytown.
Day Out
I woke up at 7:20 to get ready. Then I left the house by 8:20, which, as I was certain, I was on time to the schedule that I'd written down. When I got to the bus stop, I was on time, and I waited for the bus. I knew which bus I needed to get on--H4, heading toward Tenleytown. And I also know that Brookland was the end of the the H4 bus route, and that Tenleytown was the other end. So you would understand why I was confused when the H4 bus came with the heading of "Van Ness UDC". I knew this was close to Tenleytown, but I didn't get why they didn't just put Tenleytown.. and my directions said that it was toward Tenleytown, and then I was mad at WMATA, confused, as I got on the bus, and started riding. I got out my notebook and looked at the directions that I was supposed to follow.
"Directions to Tenleytown: @7:20 leave for Metro, take H4 bus toward Tenleytown."
Shoot. I woke up an hour late. The difference was that I wasn't stressed, and now that I was on the bus on my way there was nothing I could do about it. So I read Animal, Vegetable, Miracle and waited. And waited. 8:45, my proposed time of arrival, came and went, and I rode the bus and read. I got impatient, got off the bus near a Redline Station, asked for directions to the Metro (a kind, middle-aged, chic lady pointed me in the right direction), got on the Metro, rode it until Tenleytown station two stops later, climbed the stairs, and crossed the street to Wilson High School just as the H4 bus arrived. . . Talk about irony.
I went into the school, signed in and went through the security, really fast, though there were some students that were messing around that were giving the security guard a pain in her butt. I got to Colman's room at 9:40, a little later than I wanted to, but when I got there, Colman was chill and I just sat right down, and joined in with what was going on.
He was actually reading through some of his self-made evaluations--I think that parts that he found humorous--and that led to some discussions about catcalling, abuse in relationships, and movies that they watched in class. During class, some people got distracted--Adrian was on his iPod looking up facts on HIV/AIDS part of the time, while eating Mike 'n' Ikes, and drinking a red colored soda. Some students came into class after I did. (Colman doesn't make his students take tests because it's an unfair way to test them, so there wasn't a final exam). And of course, you have your sleepers, extended-bathroom-break-ers, and those that blow their nose out in the hall several times during class (although I think he's legitimate).
After class, Colman was going to find out the schedule for next semester, but the information wasn't quite ready yet. I rode the bus home. On the way, a woman and her six-month-old baby got on and sat next to me. I started a conversation with her. Actually, the little boy, but directed toward her.
"Where are you going?" I asked him.
"We're going home. We just got immunization shots." She responded..
"What's his name?"
"Chekeesee" (I think. It was something like this.)
She talked about how he addresses adults with an assertive "uuu", but not children, and decided that she wants to put him in daycare so he'll interact with other babies a little more. It was wonderful. Then he was talking to me, while I was reading, and she shushed him, and told him that "You shouldn't interrupt her reading." It was so sweet.
I got a phone call from Sanj on my way home telling me to finish Fets and I's paper because Fets' mom and he went out for lunch. So I rushed home, made eggs on toast, celery and apple slices, then abandoned my dinner and ran to Fets' computer and attempted to type a conclusion paragraph. I usually don't put off writing papers down to the last second, so it was kind of hard for me to conclude on what we were writing... but I poopled something out.
Our first official seminar class was okay. I took notes for everything so I didn't lose Doug. I was sorta tired so my mind was everywhere. I was thinking about shopping later, how much I missed Zach, how hungry I was, what I was going to eat when break started, and of course what we were talking about in class. But it was a miscellaneous thought mix.
After class, Christa and I walked to PNC Bank, CVS, Yes Organic on 12th street. It was a little cooler than my walk yesterday, but we got there without dying from the cold, it was more of a slight brisk feeling. We walked over to the bank, and I was going to cash Lindsay and Jessica's checks--they endorsed them and everything and I signed the checks as well, but the teller said that the other person whose checks they were had to be there with identifiable ID, and that was frustrating.
We walked to CVS and located the loofahs (all over $3), then proceeded to the dishwasher soap. I went to ask about getting a CVS card, one clerk said I couldn't get one because they were out of applications, but I asked another, politely, and she gave me a card and told me to register online. Talk about efficient.
Only thing is, we got back and CVS.com was NOT behaving. But no matter. We still got a working card. (for now.)
We stopped and walked through YES! organic, and found a wonderful mini bulk section! Christa and I wrote down prices for the things we thought we might buy in bulk, and then walked home.
Dinner was interesting. As it usually is when there aren't any other options for veggietarians besides leftover lasagna and rice. Yay for for green beans and dumper dove organic sliced apples. I have had so many in the past week. That and celery. I could live on the two.. and peanut butter, and chocolate.
Speaking of vegetarianism. It's going well. All the vegetarians are talking of eating fish in the next week, and I think I will participate in that ritual. As far as the Splenda cold-turkey experiment is going, I'm surviving. I have been participating in the ritual of eating natural sugar, and I don't think my figure is suffering. For now, I have to watch the dark chocolate though. It sneaks up on me. And then shoves itself into my mouth. And I cannot help myself.
We had a pre shopping meeting, and a house meeting (with post shopping notes) and then Christa and I chatted about majors and boys, while exchanging back rubs.
I was looking through the drawers of the TV stand (there are six drawers--it's a BIG TV stand), and I located several magazines that are begging to be cut up tomorrow!! :) There was also random things like prohibited thumb tacks, which may or may not be pushed into my wall this semester for collages...
But the best find, even of the magazines--a book--How to Live Your Dream of Volunteering Overseas.
Woot Woot! Yaya. I'm totally going to read that this weekend when almost no one is here and I have all this time to be a bump on a log. And then I will tell you of my life plans.
By the way, I contemplated being an English Teacher today. It might be something in my future. But as of now, I'm content taking 300 level English Writing courses to satisfy my LIberal Arts and graduating in 2011. What you think?
PSBTW. My thumb is getting a blister from typing.....
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
Martin Luther King, Jr. Day DC Style, First Group Outing!
I helped Lindsay make brunch for the guys and Christa who waited in line for the tickets we got for our outing. I made eggs--with onions, pepper, deli turkey (hey, it's what's in the fridge), and cheddar cheese. I didn't have any of it though--I'm still working the vegetarian thing, so I had some sunny-side-up eggs. Which wasn't as fun tonight when they made Cheese Stuffed Chicken Breasts, and all that we had was Spaghetti. But I still love those guys. They are amazing cooks!
Because of our hectic schedule, we had to eat supper really early--4:00, and then hustle everyone out of the house and get to the Metro and catch the Redline to the Metro Center and head to Foggy Bottom. Everyone was dressed up--some to the nines, some to the eighties, but anyways, we all looked nice as we speed-walked to the metro station. We caught the 4:49 train and got to Foggy bottom with lots of time to spare. To our delight and convenience, there was a shuttle directly to the Kennedy center waiting for us when we got there, and although some of us had to stand and hold on for dear life on the two minute ride there (my balance is getting a lot better), it was a lot nicer than attempting to navigate where we were going from Sanj's phone.
We were directed nicely through the standby line because we had our friends wait in line earlier in the day--it was such a nice way to go to an event, though watching people wait in line to get in was slightly difficult. But there are always two sides of each event. We walked and talked and soon we were in our seats--we were in the first tier, Row A. A good view of the middle of the stage, but the podium was off to the side, closer to us, so we had to lean out in order to see what was going on.
There was an amazing choir. It was large, and loud--called the Let Freedom Ring Choir, and boy, did they let it ring. There were some great vocalists. Although that choir at Plymouth yesterday had quite the pipes as well.. The music was written by the music director, a minister of music for the Metropolitan Baptist Church, Nolan Williams, Jr. The song he wrote was called, "I am the Dream", honoring MLK, but also addressing that we are the difference and we can be the change (but as Jess sincerely pointed out, (and the thought being at the back of my head as well) the song could just be about Obama making it to the presidency.)
Then the moment we'd all been waiting for began! India Arie came onstage and had some amazing music. Her soul and emotion in what she sang reminded me of someone who writes from her soul (^<^), and I enjoyed her selflessness in the way she addressed everyone she was singing with--her backup singers (who were also completely amazing), the Israeli artist, and French artist who she sang duets with, and the choir additions to her songs. Not only was her demeanor exquisite, but her outfits were amazing as well--she wore a black dress with an orange wrap, and a bright pink and teal under skirt, so when she spinned, you could see beautiful color! And her second outfit was bright! Fresh blues, pinks, and greens, and she sported a set of brightly shaded butterfly wings for the second half. Her song choices hit home and heart. "Good Men" "Strength, Courage, and Wisdom" and so many more! I love her!
After the show was over, we were heading out, taking our time, knowing that traffic and shuttles would be full and lines would be long no matter when we left, so some of us went to the bathroom and some of us went downstairs, and saw Dikembe leaving. It turns out, Fetsum's childhood hero is Dikembe Mutombo, so he waited for the traffic to die down, until it was only Dikembe's family around us--talk about some tall Africans. Fets tried several times to get a picture with him, but they wouldn't let him. Several times. But he got to shake his hand, and then seemed to be satisfied. He had the look of pure bliss, like a child when they get their favorite candy bar for free; Fets was on cloud nine.
We rode back to the metro on the shuttle, and although I stood again this time, it was a great ride back. There were two blind people in the back seat with their seeing eye dogs. Jess and Jasmine asked the first questions, about the dogs, and we learned the names of the dogs, but not the people... It was really awesome to be able to converse with random strangers in the event of connection through this evening event. They said that they almost didn't make it in to the concert hall--they didn't have the tickets, but someone gave them some, and so they got to see it. They didn't know that the Obamas were going to be there--in fact, not a whole lot of people did, there was a general gasp of surprise when the First Lady was announced as a guest and Obama was announced to present the award to Dikembe.
I was very happy to have met them. Our ride home on the metro consisted of matching animals to some of the people in the house, which didn't get far, and ran off on a tangent of the Lion King "Circle of Life", by me and Jess.
Everyone was starving by the time we got back to the house, and food was made and eaten. (Can you say Gourmet Oatmeal, anyone?) It seems that there are so many different perspectives in the house. Some people have no problem bending rules, as long as respect is taken in every other sense, and some can't even pass the idea of going beyond any set of rules. I'm an observer of the rules, but I also don't object to the people who bend the rules with moderation. To each his own, of course. We can agree to disagree, and it's a learning experience for all of us.
I watched the Hangover. Listening to the multitude of repetitions of the F-word and the nudity of the movie at such a late hour didn't have a very large effect on me, as I stated to Fetsum--you like the movie more the later it gets. Yeah it was funny, but yeah it's a waste of time, and degrading to any sane person's morals. But you get what you take. Some of it was funny.
My mom talked to me about starting to have a regular sleep schedule...
Talk to me about that later...
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