Handling the Truth

Wednesday's class at BCC was so difficult. Colman is still teaching Animal rights, and one of the videos he showed was about where animals stand, in aspects of pets, and ranch hunting, and more. The ranch hunting was hard enough to watch. They had footage of the man killing to Bighorned sheep in the gut rather than in the head because if he shot it in the head, it would ruin the "trophy" that he was putting on his wall. After that, they showed footage from an American event where they shoot pigeons for fun, and smoke cigarettes, drink beer, and listen to country music. 

They then talked about pets, and how important they were to some people, and how some people use animals for their needs (one woman had MS, and had a dog that would assist her with what she was doing, another man was paralyzed from the neck down, and had a monkey who could everything he needed. )

They started talking about how pets helped calm people down and act better, and I started thinking about Baby, my cat who was hit by a car last semester and died while I was at school, and how much I missed him, and how much I want a pet in the house, or at least one that I can interact with on a regular basis. So I was kind of emotional when the video switched to Asia, where they were harvesting cats for food. I was disgusted and I wanted to leave the room, and was about to because my head was spinning with thoughts stimulated by images of animals we have as pets being tortured and killed. It is so frustrating because I'm already a vegetarian, I already care so much about these animals, and it's SO HARD to know what goes on out there. 

I was walking back to the metro to head over to Wilson, and I saw a dark purple stain on the sidewalk. It could have been jello, or a spilled slushie, but all I saw was gore. 

To make matters more interesting, when I got to Wilson, I was disoriented because I didn't feel that great to begin with, and I had to go through the freaking metal detector twice because I left my coat on and still be scanned with the metal detecting rod thing. I still don't know what metal that thing picked up because the security guard told me that it doesn't pick up my tongue stud. So I got through security, and then just as I walked in through the second door, another security guard said, "Where you going? You gotta pass?" I showed him it, and stated where I was going, and THEN he smiled and said, "I'm just kidding." AHHH

So I got to class, and Colman wasn't there yet, and one of the students who is referred to as "Gorgeou$" (spelled that way) asked me how I was, and I told him straight up. 

It just wasn't my day. Colman arrived a little later, and started this video about Joe Giuretto, who was convicted for murdering and raping two women, but the evidence was obvious that it wasn't him. He was on Death Row but was pardoned. The previous governor was going to pardon him, but he decided on the last day in office that he would leave it to the next governor, who was pro-death penalty. 

It was frustrating to hear the story and know that Colman talks to this guy and recently got a letter from him that was suicidal.

So it was an interesting day. In addition, I couldn't just come home and relax--we had class. I made it through class--we went on a field trip to meet one of the authors of one of the essays we read in our reading this week, and then went home. As the day progressed, I started feeling sicker and sicker, and knew I had a cold coming on. Yesterday there was a little girl that had a runny nose that hugged me a couple times, but there could be one thousand reasons. 

I watched Anchorman (Steve Carrel was my favorite character. But I don't think I'm going to watch it again.) and I knitted away a storm, and then they turned the Olympics on. I went to bed around ten. 

It was really frustrating to wake up this morning with a sore throat and know that I wouldn't be able to go to Garrison because I wouldn't want to make contact with the kids and that would be what was going on.

I'm working on getting Greyhound tickets to go to Harrisburg for part of my spring break. Ironically, there isn't any more of a discount that you can get, despite buying the student discount card, for the 21-day before deal. Meh.

First Day on the planet (aka Garrison)

I went to Garrison today. I went to bed late, and woke up later, walked to the metro and just missed the bus I was planning on riding, and rather than improvising, like I have in the past (and failed miserably)  I made the very smart decision just to ride the Metro to the closest stop, and I got there right on time. I proudly turned in my letter of permission, and walked up to Mr. Abdulluah's room.
He has twenty seven students, and knows how to command the classroom. The kids listened and were attentive to him. There was awesome learning and it was great to be in an elementary classroom for the morning. They were doing sounds or vowels, and Mr. Abdulluah was instructing the students to become fluent in reading by doing a little competitive game. He put a overhead up with a random list of different vowel suffixes i.e. uck, ank, ing, in, up, with a total of sixty of them, and then he challenged the students to read them as fast and as correctly as they could. It was fascinating. There were students at every level, some almost competing with Mr. Abdulluah's score of 26 seconds. A girl named Reina got thirty one seconds, Ayana got 33 seconds. He joked that he was going to have me read the words and break all the records, but I never went, which was fine.
The students did all this instead of going to the library, because the librarian wasn't there, and the sub arrived late. Their next activity of the day was P.E., which Mr. Abdulluah and I walked down to the gym/cafeteria with them, but then went back up to the classroom to grade papers and listen to npr. I graded a set of twenty-seven math tests about rounding. So they grade according to numbers now. 4 is the best. 1 is the worst. Go figure.
I had lunch in the teacher's lounge, and had a great talk with two of the ladies that were in there eating lunch at the same time as me. Of course I had to explain myself, saying I was a volunteer doing an internship, not a student teacher, and that I was from Ohio (I said ,"Yep" and one of the ladies laughed and said, "Where you from? I haven't heard 'yep' in a long time, you must be from somewhere country")
After lunch, the kids had to take Theme Tests, which were preparing them for standardized tests. (which are horrid). Mr. Abdulluah had a new student that was from Sweden. Her name was Chloe and she spoke only French (I think she might also speak Swedish, but they didn't identify that). Mr. Abdulluah asked me to go work with her to get her to start with some English. The only words I know in French are how to say French in french, I know how to say "hello" and a rather formal way to say "how are you?" but I worked with her, showing her pictures and asking her to say the word "en francois" and then I would say it in English.  We did the alphabet, and some scattered nouns, and so when I decided to try to teach Chloe some verbs, I started enthusiastically doing them. "Sitting" on my "butom" (french for butt, I'm supposing), walking, running, dancing, jumping, each one I would say in English and she would say in French. It was really interesing to me how much the english language is harsher in the sounds of words than the French language. I tried to learn a little bit of French as I went, but nothing really stuck. I think I'm past that gluing stage, unfortunately, and so now I have to apply a lot more pressure to make things stick.
There were several little girls in the class who were loving on me the entire time I was there. They would come and hug me and lean their head on my shoulder and it was so great. I love kids. They all wanted to do what I do (I was skipping steps on the way up the stairs, and they were talking behind me. "she's skipping stairs!" "I want to skip stairs!"). Chloe and I went back into the classroom for choice time (after Mr. Abdulluah came in and told me that they were having choice time (aka indoor recess) I attempted to navigate through some flash cards to attempt to tell her what we were going to do, but for the life of me I didn't know what 'to play' was in French, and my Spanish wasn't helping at all. I found a picture of a girl and a boy and a doll, but I don't think I got the message across. I declared that I was going to have Jess teach me some French verbs when I got home so I could communicate with her.)
After choice time, he went in to Math, and went over the tests. When I was grading them, I noticed that most of the time, the questions that were missed were because they didn't read the directions. Oh woe is the one who doesn't read the directions.
After Math the day was basically over. There was a multiplication bee and a spelling bee. Then the day was over, and Mr. Abdulluah got out some treats to give to the class, but only after he read through the list of names of people who had disrupted class that day, who were disqualified from getting a treat. It was a pretty awesome reward, I think.
I took the Metro home, and just chilled for the rest of the day. I got TWO care packages! One from West Clinton MYF (awesome. Thanks guys!) and one from a small group at Ridgeway Mennonite (which was completely awesome). It was so ironic, though. I gave up sweets for Lent, and I'm a vegetarian, so the Ramen noodles and sweet things involved in the gifts were much appreciated by my housemates. . . :)
Volleyball was frustrating. I was on a team of all men, for one thing, but one of them is crazy competitive (which normally I don't mind, but it was bothering me to no end on Tuesday), and I just felt like every single thing I did was criticized. We had won our first games, but after that, we had a couple of losses and it felt like our team was falling apart. But then we started pulling it together, everybody started working with everybody. I started talking back-- [:)]--something that I needed to do, and I felt like I was doing a lot better at the game.

Is this who we are?

I read this article in the Washington Post today. It was about how we are more interested in the digital world that has been created than the physical world we live in. The opening story was about a father who was sitting in the bathroom with his four-your-old while she was taking a bath and was on his smartphone, playing chess, and suddenly realized his feet were wet. He did the ultimate multitasking move--used one hand to turn the faucet off and the other to do a move on the chess game he was playing on his phone.

This is what society has become. I got my first laptop and iPod this summer in June, and felt like I was behind in technology when I started using it. I didn't know anything about iTunes and was at a loss to the fact that you can let your iPod and your Mac sleep, and it won't use up as much battery power as when you turn it off. As technology has kept improving, the iPad has come out, an eBook-sized touch screen computer. The App Store has had billions of downloads since the beginning of Applications. Each application has a purpose, though some seem like they have none.

In the past, I have let it be known that I hate video games. I once dated a guy who seemed wonderful, but in the end, he wanted to play video games more than he wanted to talk to me or look at me. The sad thing is that I realized this six months in. And wasted a lot of time and emotions on him. Then I took a loathing to them--the video games (the guy as well). I hate the fact that people can sit in front of a television or a GameBoy Advance and play games for hours. I hate it when parents let their kids play video games at age four.

My family never grew up with video games. My little experience with playing them was at my grandparent's house, where my uncle (only five-six years older than me) played some, and would occasionally let my sisters and I try. We also had the occasional computer and internet game. This actually had more of an expense on me-- when we were in elementary school, we went on Stickerworld, and then Neopets, but then we were too 'old' for them. Marie and I also enjoyed playing Zoo Tycoon and Age of Empires, but as the years go on, we haven't played, instead we spend more time on Facebook and for me (haha) on Blogger.com, and my own email. There really aren't games that satisfy. I play a little Tetris on Facebook, and sometimes keep going on and on, but eventually it drives me crazy, and I hate it and quit for a little while. There's a little satisfaction to getting a score that is higher than someone else, but after awhile, you are playing against yourself. What good is it to become amazing at a video game? When the power goes out in your house, what can you brag about? Sometimes I wonder about the significance of this blog, because I know it's all digital data stored in wavelengths somewhere. I can keep baring my soul to the world through the web, but it will mean nothing if I decide that I'm going to live with the Bushmen someday, in a place where technology will never reach (hopefully).

In honesty, I think that what bothers me the most about technology is that it becomes more significant than actual relationships. There was a point with Zach that he would just talk about his iPod and talk about it. Granted, he did get it for Christmas and was enthralled by it's amazingness, but it drove me crazy, because I wanted to talk to him about him, not about his stinking iPod. The article talked about how this addiction to technology made some couples have to have marriage counseling because there was lack of real conversation.

Sure, restaurants play music to dull the uncomfortable silence. But does that mean that people need to have the TV on in the house so that there is less uncomfortable silence at the dinner table? When there is uncomfortable silence, people get up the nerve to say things that they have a hard time saying--sure the moment is awkward, but it makes the relationship better in the long run. People shouldn't have to hide in the world of music to be able to get through the day with the fear of silence. There isn't music on the Metro, because they are saying stops and things, and right after the snow storm, the heat was going on and off and that was the first time I was aware of how silent the metro is. Everyone is quiet, chill, cold to one another, except the occasional excuse me and thank you. Silence is only interrupted by families, and groups of people who know each other. I think the reason behind this is that a lot of people have their iPods and their smart phones with them on their commute to home or work. Maybe people aren't comfortable with the idea of talking to strangers and that has affected them through their lives so far. Maybe people just prefer music to talking to people, because reality is too harsh. I don't understand.

I personally do my devotions in the mornings on the metro. If there is space, people don't normally sit next to one another. I think that most people just take the metro with the prospective thoughts--what I'm going to do when I get to work, what I'm going to do when I get home--and so they aren't thinking about the actual present time. That they are actually on the metro, and aren't actually on their way home.

I feel like technology diminishes relationships. I don't want to be a part of this diminishing, dehumanizing effect that is talking over our first-world country. I kind of don't want to be a part of this country, with the lack of care for citizens here, and people all over the world. I would like to be part of something that is positive and beneficial to all who step into it. Yet I'm here, humbled to be an American.

My devotions have been coming out of a small book called "the Basic Trek." It was something assigned by my Ethics teacher last semester that I never got to finish, and brought to DC with me this semester with the purpose of reading it, and I found the need and decided to do so. It focuses on the aspects of life that are important, and reintroduces the idea of living with only what we need and finding joy in the people around us, and less in the things around us.

I'm going to sell my iPod touch, I think. I don't use it that much anyway.

Questioning what is 'right'.

Just looking at the way I enjoy handwritten things more than typed, and ponytails more than buns, and homemade food more than restaurants. The idea that jeans are preferred over slacks isn't because they are more comfortable, but because they establish a common ground with people, and don't make you think more or less of a person because they are just jeans. I like backpacks over briefcases, generic over brand name (and thrift store over both of those). I'm just a casual person. I don't think I belong in the professional world. I hate the idea of having to dress up because it's protocol. I will dress up if I want to, or if I feel like it, but if someone tells me to, then I will refuse to (in my mind), and sometimes vocally, but because they said something, I'm more than likely to change my clothes. But is it right? Should we look appropriate as to get others to approve of us? Why is it so important?
Other things I have been working through: We watched an Animal Rights video, called Meet Your Meat and it was about factory farming. I feel like it's fine to drink milk and lay eggs. But watching this movie made me realize that unless you can call the place where your milk and eggs come from a farm, and see cows with walking space, it is very possible that the products that come from the cows and chickens could be miserable, debeaked, branded, featherless, pumped-with-hormones lives. It frustrates me to no end that this commercial industry allows this for profit.
These are all the things that were going through my head while I watched this movie. I watched it twice in a row because Colman has two class periods in a row that he is doing Animal Rights with.

Welcome to the slaughterhouse.
Where pain is present
And death covers our hands.
When being conscious is a blessing and a curse
Where having the strength to walk prolongs and also speeds up the walk to death.
Welcome to pain.
Where branding your skin is fine because you can't talk.
Where ignoring the infections in your body is because we are going to kill you anyway.
Where we pump you full of hormones so you can't walk because bigger is better and we don't care if your legs break.
Welcome to blood.
Steps, footprints, buckets covered in it.
Crying out in pain with life dripping out to the floor.
Welcome to emotional agony.
Where babies can't go to their mothers
Where ears and beaks are cut off and castration occurs
And you seize with pain
Because there is no sense--it costs less just to cut it off.
Welcome to desensitized hearts. We don't know what they fell. We aren't there.
But someone's killing them.
Someone's slitting their throats while they are still kicking.
And we are eating them.

It's in our society to care for cute things. Cats and dogs---people wouldn't accept millions of dollars if another person was hungry and wanted to eat their pet because they are so important to them. But cows are ok. Pigs are ok. We have Dolphin-Safe tunafish. Because dolphins are cuter than tuna. or more intelligent. But we kill pigs, and pigs are some of the smartest animals. They go insane from being in the factory farms. We identify with animals that we know, but those that are on our plates don't count. Ghandi converted to veganism in London, after seeing what people do to animals in their factory farms. Albert Schweitzer called our eating the meat but not knowing where it was from "unconscious cruelty". I was talking about this idea later on in the day, and Doug said that if he had to kill all the food that he was going to eat, he would be a vegetarian. Henry David Thoreau lived in the woods, and when asked why he wouldn't hunt the deer in the woods, he replied, "I won't shoot the deer until the deer shoot back. Then it will be a fair fight." Thomas Edison said, "Non-violence leads to the highest ethics, which is the goal od all evolution. Until we stop harming all other living beings, we are still savages." Edison also perfected the electric chair, because he didn't think that killing people by beheading them or hanging them was humane enough.

From there, I headed to Wilson, where we are working on the Death Penalty, and looking at diffrerent cases where they family of the murder victim wanted the murderer to live rather than die. They were talking about the rule that people 18 and younger were not allowed to be sentenced to death. But Colam challenged the class--what's the difference between being 17 and 364 days and 18 and one day? Not much. So does age matter?
What is right?
Is it what is normal to society?
Is it what the government rules as law?
Is the answer "that's just the way it is"?
Is change "corruption"?
Is corruption bad, then?
People don'r recognize that the unpopular path is the better path.
To make a difference,
You are likely to be prejudiced
Discriminated against
Or Killed
For what you believe.

I'm struggling with these rules laid out for me. Why does it have to be this way? Why do we have to drive on the right side of the road and get a receipt at the register? Why do people not trust enough that I won't drink if I don't have a black X on my hand? Where has this society gone?

Another hard class period was the next day. Colman brought in Josh Steiber, who was a conscious objector, and he told us his story. His own blog talks about what he did after he returned from Iraq. The important things that he talked about that hit me hard were the harsh realities of the military.
He had the entire class stand up by asking them to stand if they cared about their family and friends, and then said that they would do repeat after him if they still felt that way, but to stop if they didn't agree.
"I went down to the market
Where the women shop
I pulled out my machete
And I began to chop.
I went down to the park
Where all the children play
I pulled out my machine gun,
And I began to spray."
He said that this was a song that they would sing as they ran or marched somewhere.
Josh grew up in DC area, and was in middle school when 9/11 happened, and saw the pentagon afterward. He wanted to make a difference and help the U.S. He wanted to help stop the war in Iraq, so he signed up after he graduated from high school.
He told us that they were all brought into a room and a video of middle eastern people getting shot and bombed, and they turned on rock music and by the end of the video, all the guys were singing and chanting, and getting into it. They used targets of the stereotypical middle eastern men for shooting
He became a conscientious objector when he returned after his leave, and when he came back to America on an honorable discharge, he decided to walk and bike across the country to spread what he was feeling.
I can't really tell his story as well as he can.

PudDum PudDum. Banananah. Yum!

Yay for schools being open! Pleh for some schools having two hour delays.
So I decided to ride the bus to Tenleytown. There wasn't much trouble for Jess and I when we went to church (besides the random flat tire) so I didn't think much of it.
The ride normally takes forty-five minutes. It took an hour and a half, and the bus was just sitting in traffic  most of the time. That was frustrating for most of the people on the bus. Many got off early and got on the metro. I had to stay on--my ending destination was the bus' ending destination. That wasn't a problem. If I'd known it was going to be chaotic I would have gone on the Metro. My problem was the Nalgene full of chai tea that I had drank before I left. I really had to go when we finally arrived. I ran across the street to the Sears Showroom which I'd located the bathroom in earlier in the month.
Then I got to class. At 10:45. I was an hour later than I wanted to be. It was fine though. There was a movie being finished when I arrived, and then more discussion on the death penalty ensued.
There's this one kid who contradicts himself, and uses big words like he knows what he's talking about. I told him, "Ellington, you are all over the place." He said, "No I'm not. I'm making an analogy." Which he wasn't. He was all over the place.

I rode the Metro home. I got a headache for the ride home, because I needed to drink more water. I made a stir-fry for lunch with the leftover filling from the vegetarian bierrocks, and added a bunch of spinach, half an onion, a clove of garlic, and various other spices. I was attempting to cut my thumb off when I actually cut the onions instead. Silly onions. And stupid dull knife! I'm going to have an ugly thumb for a little while. But what I wanted was no thumb! Duh! (if none of you understand my sarcasm, I need to personally deliver you a package of it sometime, so that you can understand me.)
Pluto is red. I read it in the Washington Post. So I thought that you all should know.
Music or Travel?

Some people I know spend their money on tickets to concerts and seeing amazing artists live. Some of my friends are the musicians and people pay to see them. Sometimes I fantasize with the idea that I could be a musician like that. The last concert that I went to was Kutless at Convention. But that doesn't count for me--it was with a Christian event. All of the concerts I had been to up to the point of DC had been Christian concerts, until I went to an India Arie concert.
Other people I know spend their money on travel, seeing places, cultures, and people and learning about them and what they do. Some of my friends are the people in the other countries that those who are tourists go to. Some go for vacations. Some go to see family and friends. Some don't know what they are doing until they get there.
The truth is, I don't know what route I want to take. I'd rather travel, as long as there was a piano waiting for me at the end of the terminal. I'd love to do both. Can it be made into a lifestyle? Or do people have to come back to the normality of the world at some point, and get a desk job, or be a secretary?

My sister and I wrote a song to "Heart and Soul" when we were a lot younger. It's pretty much just a list of occupations that you could have in your life.
"Do you want
To be a zookeeper?
Or a sexy (lol) secretary?
Or a lion, or a king,
or a zookeeper
Or a Barber?!"
Really silly. And were were obsessed with animals at the time and thought about pursuing careers in Zoology. That was back in the dizzle.
The point I'm making is that maybe jobs are lifestyles. And I'm not one to dance on the line of boredom when I'm thinking about my future. I just can't see myself sitting at a desk. I'm a work-at-the-couch type of person, or work-on-the-bed. I am more productive when I surround myself with the things I'm working on, and have a comfy spot for my bum.
My job, whatever job I find, is going to be something outside of the normal job loop. Maybe I'll work a job where I don't get paid. If it's something I love, I'll gladly dumpster dive food, and try to figure out other ways to get money.
I made roasted veggies. I was supposed to make them yesterday, but thank goodness (I was exhausted yesterday) the grocery people weren't back in time for me to make it for supper. So we have a huge container full of it for me to snack on!
I located the movie that we were supposed to watch for class. And then I watched it. And wrote my journals. But I still have to write my proposals. Meh. I forget what Doug said about them also.

Wild, Restless, Romantic?

The title of this blog came from a home video that my sisters and I made when I was in fifth grade. Anna and Marie were reading ten second skits. That one was from "You Remind me of an Ocean." I also wrote a song about that at one point. About a boy I met at the beach. in 2006. What a tangent.
What I'd really like to talk about is this past weekend.
Description wise, I'm at a loss for words. It was a great weekend. The diversity of people in the house made everything a little bit better, although I can't say that I would have said no to a little bit of a mental challenge. It was a LONG weekend. Probably because the weekend started on Thursday, when Lindsay and Andrew left for Harrisonburg.
There was nothing to do. Ironically, all the schools I work in had a "four day weekend" because of President's Day. Christa found a phone outside on the sidewalk, and I nourished it in a bowl of rice, and charged it with my charger (because ironically, it needed the same plug as my own phone). I spent the next day trying to get ahold of someone who would take it away from me. I got ahold of the dad, but they went out of town for the weekend, and so I have yet to give it back to them.

Alli, Praveen, Julien, and a plethera of Bryan, Fets, and Sanj's friends came to party Friday and Saturday night. It was great fun.
Alli and I made brownies and bread together. I made bread twice this weekend. Once the dough didn't rise--the yeast committed suicide, but everyone ate it because it was still rather tasty and slightly sweet because the yeast didn't eat the sugar. The second time, we made Alli's recipe of bread. There was a lot of dough, but it was really good. We still have almost three loaves. Soon to be gone.

I went swimming on Saturday because I didn't know what to do with myself. Corrie and Praveen, Jess and Julien, and Alli and Sanj were all sightseeing, and the "bachelors," though I was invited by Bryan to hang with them all day, they were watching a movie that didn't sound very good (meaning the F word was spoken religiously.)
I went to bed at horribly late hours. 4:00 one time, 2:30... 1:30. It got late and later. It was so easy for the clock to just tick away, while Jess and I, or Alli, Jess, and I, or Alli and I were playing piano and singing loudly in the basement.
At some point this weekend, we lost hot water, and the garbage disposal didn't work. It was a bit chaotic that day. Doug fixed it in the morning.

Valentine's Day was like every other day. Except it was Sunday. Jess and I decided to go to the Community House Church. We got on the bus, got off at the right stop, but then waited on the wrong side of the road for a little too long. A drunk guy was having a conversation with Jess. Then we got on the 92 bus instead of the 90, and rode a little way. The bus got a flat tire, or something, and was just sitting somewhere. The bus driver got out. So Jess and I walked from there. We figured it out, and met some tourists with a map to point us in the right direction. We found Ontario St, and started walking up it, and we ran into some guys trying to get their car out of the snow, so we went to help. I gave some good advice about putting the car in neutral instead of trying to accelerate and burning up their tires. A lady across the street brought about a shovel and they started hacking on the snow under the car. An African American guy who was walking by also came and helped, and then the lady's daughter brought out another shovel and we successfully got the car out of the snow. We were awarded mints by the driver for our help, and we headed on our way.
The church service was very nice, and I see myself coming back to this church. This is the church that Doug attends. He found Jess and I a ride home from church, with Cheryl, Roger, and Olivia. Olivia was eight, very bright, and very rambuncous. totally hilarious. She was acting like a cat, and wrapped her arms around mine so I couldn't get out of the car when we finally got back to the house. I would have pried her fingers off, but I had a cup of flowers in one hand, and a purse in another.
Bryan and I worked on the igloo and got some serious progress done on it. That was how we spent our Valentine's Day. Corrie and Praveen made ravioli for supper. Sanj made cheese stuffed chicken for Alli and his' supper.

We played Taboo as a group, and there was complete insanity. I had some really weird combinations. I had root canal and I was talking about anesthesia and trees. and they got it.
Today I did many productive things like finished reading the book of the week, and finished my blanket. I drank coffee and baked bierrocks. And washed dishes. I worked on the igloo for ten minutes.
The hot water was fixed, and I took a shower.
Exhaustion is overcoming. I avoided being on the computer today.
Ash Wednesday is coming up. This Wednesday. A couple of the girls and I are giving up sweet things, and Emily and I are going to start running together in the afternoons after I'm done with work. Among other things. I know how to make bread. I ate yogurt for breakfast today. :)

I'm going to tell it like it is.

I found a new way for my wacked up sleep schedule to deal with itself.
I'm knitting a blanket.
I watched Casino Royale.
But it really doesn't help that the homies are watching something on the TV like it's the afternoon.
My stomach would have shot me dead if it had a gun today. Not sure what the anger's all about, but it's been hustling my comfort for the past seven hours. Eating should be fun, not cramping my style.
I'm not too bad at beer pong.
Or making peanut butter brownies.
But really it's the company that matters, not the food (which was great) or the drinks (but some people just drink tea.)
Yesterday I picked up a cell phone off the sidewalk that Christa located and put it in a bowl of rice. Today I hooked it up to my charger (because I'm awesome, and I have an identical charger), and located a parent, texted them, and am going to give it back on Monday.
I sent a box of goodies to Africa today. I hope and pray that Fetsum taped the box enough that the goodies will make it to Senegal unscathed.
I hate my tummy. It feels like I'm getting the flu all over again.
Maybe I am.
And in that case, I shouldn't be around people, which I inevitably am.
It's 3:00AM. I should go to bed. I should also think about dumpster diving.
The reason I don't drink alcohol, besides the fact that I'm eighteen, is that I don't want to gain weight. I don't run or swim as much as some people. And I've seen what it does to some girls.
Another reason I didn't drink tonight is because those bottles of gin in the freezer are quite intimidating.
If I ever drink, I want it to be a good drink. Not some weird concoction that makes me want to throw up.
Whatever.
Yep.
Casino Royale.
Why is alcohol the reason for so many parties? I need some Tums. But that is because of the Unidentified Food Object that my stomach is holding a mutiny for. Not because of the peanut butter brownies that were made at one in the morning.
MaiTri was a great time for me, other than the stomach ache. I feel like I connect better everytime I'm there. Dang it for the metro closing at midnight and it being cold.
Jess thinks my Streetsboro Soccer shirt is a bit aggressive.

Because Honesty is the Best Medicine.

The great thing about blogs is that you can write as much as you want. I'm ready to write as much as I want. Another great thing is that you can look back on how you've changed. I've almost had this blog for a year. There is so much that has changed, although you cannot necessarily tell because I wasn't that consistent. Now I have the time and the means.
Here's the alphabetical description of today's thoughts, followed by interesting events of today, without alphabetical order.
Acronym. Mennonites and their acronyms. I don't get it. No one understands. My sister is working at SWAP this summer through MCC, and I'm participating in GO this summer through EMM, Zach's in Africa with YES. My friends attend EMU. It's almost worse than the Mennonite game.
Basil. An interesting spice, though I prefer oregano. I like to cook, experiment with spices (allspice, cinnamon, cloves and vanilla extract with regular tea = chai tea), and I also like my life to be spicy. Anything but bland.
Counseling. Perhaps it's a career that I should and will pursue. I like connecting with people, though at random points, and I like to help them through their problems, though the most enjoyable part is getting to know them, and what interesting aspects of the world they've experienced, and what means the most for them.
Dough. I'm not mentioning food so much because I'm hungry. For the first time in my life, I have eaten raw bread dough. For some reason, I thought that it couldn't taste good because it wasn't cooked yet. But since I've started baking bread with Jess, and I've seen her eat the dough, I tried it.  It's good--really good. It sort of tastes alive. Not because there's yeast in it, or anything.
Elf. I'm mourning the loss of innocence--We liked Will Ferrell as Buddy the Elf. Too bad his humor in Dodgeball, and Semi-Pro, and Talladega Nights made my stomach cringe, and made me feel like comedy wasn't good anymore.
Fiction. It's been so long since I have read a book that the story was a figment of someone's imagination. College takes time away from pleasure reading, but I have also found that when we dwell in the unreal, just as when we dwell in the past, it doesn't benefit us in our futures.
Grass. Why can't everyone have grass in their yards. Being in the city, some people use their front "lawn" space for cool rock designs, or mulch and decorative plants. Plants are supposed to give us oxygen to breathe, not to make our homes stylish.
Hamburgers. Yum. Except when I know that the cow that the hamburger used to be didn't have a comfortable life. And that the hamburger has been processed more than I ever want to know, and traveled too many miles to reach my plate.
Igloos. See below. They are hazardous to unsuspecting ice fishers. AKA Jess.
Justice. What's your definition? How are you working toward justice in this world?
Kline's. The last time I had ice cream there, the air outside was cooler than the ice cream itself. But it was good, and worth it. I love ice cream. I crave it all the time. But I mourn the consumption of it every time.
Lame. When people make fun of their friends behind their backs. When others get ignored. When Grace is hungry so half of the words she writes about are food.
Music. So amazing. Where did it come from? What a joyous sound. What peace it brings and smiles within harmony!
Noodles. Pasta. Food--Again..
Opium. Drugs. I hate seeing people addicted to things that I can't help them out of.
Peace. When I give all that I'm worrying about to God, he gives me Peace. He also gives me new thoughts for a new day, and challenges me to live up to his standards. I inly hope that one of these days I will.
Query. Questioning the Answers. A life lesson that is being learned.
Rest. Take more rest. Go to bed before three in the morning. Learn from my experience.
Sweetener. Someone sent me this amazing package with Splenda in it. I now have knitted an eighth of a blanket and I have had smoothies and chai tea. (there was yarn in the package as well.)
Telephone. Hearing a voice, from Africa. How astounding it would be. Also speaking to a friend from long ago. Yay for connections and smiles and awesomeness.
Utopia. Can there be such a thing? Can we find it in intentional communities, or in sweet melodies, or in jungle canopies?
Valence Electrons. Where the connections began, long long ago. :)
Willing. Willing to Dance. Willing to Run. Willing to Break it Down. Willing to GO!
X. O. X. O. A way to send the love through the mail. At the same time, the most heart wrenching way to tell someone you love them. Far away. And having to say goodbye.
Yellow. And it was all yellow. Relaxation can be found in the words of Coldplay.
Zach. Enough said.

Jess and I made bread. With a recipe that Alli gave us. It was supposed to have three more cups of flour than it did, and less one egg and one banana. We let it rise one extra time. It still tasted really good.
I went to CVS and bought sour candy and a chocolate bar to send to Africa today. I located a box that I can send the package in, and took the lone pink fuzzy sock that I accidently brought to DC with me, and stuck the 8oz Mountain Dew into that sock, and made it cozy. Then I stuck it in the box, with the candy and the chocolate. I filled out a customs label online. I filled it out. I printed it out. The real life custom label is beyond confusing.
I decided to make an igloo. We started a little late for the snow to be sticky. Jess and I made soup before we started on the igloo, which is why the day became so late. We also played music all day. I learned a new song called the Story. To make the igloo I had to dig a table and a lounge chair out of the snow. And clear a nice area for the floor. We didn't get anywhere close to being finished. Jess walked around the outside, shoveling snow up to make the walls higher, and stepped into the pond, which wasn't as frozen as expected.
"Ew! I smell like fish guts!"
Then she walked on the wheelchair ramp rail back to the door, rather than walking through the "white, thick mud."

Issues With Being Normal

I just had a spontaneous thought that I should go bald.
And my reasoning isn't purely that I'm sick of having hair on my head.
I have a constant drive to be different from your average person. An average person, for me, is someone who went to high school, then made it to college, figured out their major, and is completely satisfied with being in the workforce in a couple years, or semesters. Someone who is content on being in college is normal.
I, however, am not normal.
I don't like violent movies. In fact, a facebook friend posted a note of a craigslist post about a man that was almost mugged, but instead had a gun, and then essentially mugged the mugger, and then ruined his life, by breaking his windshield, buying 150 gallons of gas on his credit card, and calling the FBI on his cell phone. Some people find this funny. I find it disgusting, and heart wrenching. Maybe that man needed fifty bucks, and this guy ruined his life.
I can't stand being less. I want to be the best, or the fastest, or the most skilled. What's wrong with me? I'm an empathizer, but I want to be better than everyone else. I knit fast because I want to finish first. That, and I am very impatient.
Being super competitive can be a great thing, but I have yet to see it pull through and do something good now. When I was in seventh grade, and did Weight Watchers, then it was good. I had the drive and the goal, and I finished. Now, I'm all over the place, and I can't make up my mind about a goal, and I don't have the patience to wait for the good things.
Normal people wait to go to college until after college. Hence why I am not normal. This was caused by my super-competitive side and my need to be better than my peers. There are good things that have come of this--I'm now almost a senior in college--I will be one credit short when I finish this semester, and if possible, I'm hoping to get a bit of credit for being a part of GO this summer and acheiving a senior status. Not that it's most important, but it would take a huge load off of my back in the aspect of not having to take over eighteen hours one of those semesters.
Again with being anti-normal, I would like to graduate from college next year. Because of the lack of structure with the classes that I took at Akron University, and then the lack of knowing what I wanted to major in, I am planning on graduating with a Liberal Arts degree. I'm taking classes (now, anyway) that I enjoy and want to learn more about, rather than classes in a Major that I thought I would enjoy.
It is kind of sad that I couldn't handle the Biology major, but I just didn't have enough interest in the subject to continue. What's even more sad is that within my Music Minor, I was hating to practice and never feeling good enough, so I couldn't do what I wanted to do. I learned that music isn't something I can major in and still enjoy.
Anyway, so because I want to be different than everyone, a lot of the time, people don't understand me. I'm lucky that I have found a group of friends at EMU, when I'm actually there, who take the time to listen to what I have to say, and understand me. At the beginning, I was spending time with a group of people who were fun to be around, but weren't serious. I didn't realize it was hard for me until it was the end of the semester, I was actually getting work done, but I was connecting with other people who I felt like I was good friends with, in a deeper sense. Though there were a few in the old group of friends that I could still get along with well and understand, it was this new group of friends in Maplewood that I was learning from and finding accountability with.
I'm not sure what the last paragraph has anything to do with me being different.
But somehow I'm here, in DC. I'm the youngest person here.
Again with the competitiveness. Although my original reasoning for being here had nothing to do with that. I was struggling with being at EMU. Though it's a great community of wonderful people, I felt like I was running in place and I really wanted to DO something. So I applied for YES and the WCSC program.
So I'm here. In DC. And I'm a striver. I guess. A driver on steroids. To a point.
I do the readings. I journal, because I like to write. I blog because I like to write.
I cook because I like to cook and take pictures because I think things are pretty. Although I get annoyed when everyone on facebook posts pictures of the epic snow. Yes, it snowed. I know. I can look out the window and see it. If you make something of the snow, please post a picture. I'd love that.
How else am I not normal? My internship is different than everyone else's. Everyone else actually goes to the address of their internship. I go to high school again. Soon, I'll be going back to elementary school.
Yet I don't want to be a teacher. I learn more from the people I meet on the streets than in the seminar class we are taking with this program. I feel like I help more people in the random meets on the street than what I'm actually here for. Although I do relate to high schoolers pretty well.
I'm not working at Camp this summer. It's the best experience I've ever had, yet this year, t was time to move on. Because God provided this option of being in Queens, and I'm loving living in the city lately.

However, with all this, I'm thankful that I am unique, that there is not another Grace Engle, that everyone looks at me and says, "You know, you remind me of someone."

Not that any of this made sense, it's not really for understanding.
There was a prerequisite of a conversation that only my mother and I had.
So if you don't understand, then it's completely normal.
Sorry, Mom, you aren't normal.

Snow Week?

Though I wasn't in DC when it happened, someone dumped a butt load of snow onto the entire town. Roads are one lane, sidewalks vanish, and igloos emerge in yards.
But that also means that though there is no school, there is nothing to do.
Some people are preparing for Valentine's day.
I could do that.
I'd have to go find a box that would hold what I want to send to Africa.
But it seems I'm going to be a party pooper for this holiday this year.
I guess I'm okay with that.
I could go swimming.
My parents sent me my suit and the rec center is open and no one is there.
But I"m currently exhausted and just need to go to bed, although I feel like I'm going to be having to help Corrie make dinner in a moment or two.

There's volleyball tonight, hypothetically, but when Lindsay called them, the Rec enter was closed.
Then the snow starts falling again. Meaning 7- 14 more inches of snow ice cream to be made.
With vigor.
And nothing to do. Nothing to do. Nothing to do.
I could knit.
but I left a ball of brown yarn in Leah's room I think.
I could finish my internship poster, because I guess there are guidelines that need to be followed.
I've never been one to fit inside of a box.
Why am I here?
There's art supplies down here.
Maybe I just need to paint the inside of this freaking uncomfortable box to make it liveable.
Beware. I may do something drastic.
I think there needs to be a collage.
I wrote a song on Monday. You can watch/listen to it here .

And the snow continues to flake down. A casual friend of mine called it God's dandruff. God has a LOT of dandruff right now. Someone should get him some Selsum blue. LIKE BLUE SKY!

But I like the snow. I want to make an igloo in our back yard.
I just don't like that DC can't handle it and can't function to let me go to my internship!!!
Corrie and I made ravioli. It wasn't hard. Except one dough was too elastic and wouldn't lay thin. The other dough was great--but it stuck to the counter and these ended up looking like wonton balls.
Jess, oh Jess, couldn't stay out of the kitchen when we were cooking. There was no filling for her to try (I finished it off), so she started eating the raw ravioli dough.
We got out some of the pressure cans with pizza dough in them (who invented those anyway?). Somehow, one got too hot or something and randomly exploded, the lid hit Corrie, and some of the dough shot out. I cracked up, and then checked to see if Corrie was ok. We shoved the dough back into the can, but it was still overflowing. Jess tried some of that dough as well, and I told her (playfully) to get out of the kitchen. After supper, we made pizza.
Jess and I are loving the violin/piano/singing.

We played Loaded Questions as a group tonight. It was completely hilarious.
Highlights:
"If you were to look into the freezer, what would you be happy to find?"
--A small version of my best friend that could be thawed out and played with
"Who would be useless in a round table discussion of politics?
--Nancy Pelosi and Doug Hertzler
--The Ninja Turtles and Doug (from Nickelodeon)
"Who do you want to give a really big hug?"
--Osama Bin Laden (so he would like us more)

Jess really knows how to play this game.

Jess and I also made granola again--the yesterday's run to Cosco brought mucho rolled oats into the house, and we made an entire recipe.
I love honey. So yummy.

Welcome to the Jungle. Winter Wonderland. Whatever.

Thursday began with classes of the same caliber as earlier in the week. Eddie came to classes at Bethesda this time, and spoke to them. It definitely helped to hear his story over again, but it got slightly monotonous after the third time.
I had to head over the Union Station to the Education building to get my fingerprints, so I rode the Metro there, and then walked in what I thought was the right direction. It was but on the way, this guy stopped me. I saw his shirt beforehand and I knew what he was doing. It was a Greenpeace shirt, and he was recruiting people to join. He caught me when he said, "Are you an environmentalist?" Which is true. So I replied, "yes," and figured that fingerprinting could be stalled for a little while. He told me a story of how seven guys had a mission, and went to Alaska and somehow they caused nuclear testing to be illegal in America. I talked to him for about five minutes, and learned that his name was Aaron. I told him that as much as I'd like to support GreenPeace, I was a college student and didn't have any money.
"Which college do you attend?"
"Eastern Mennonite University, which you have never heard of (my unconscious disclaimer)"
"Well, actually, do you know of a Mennonite community in Indiana?"
"Yea, Goshen. Are you from Goshen?"
"Elkhart."
"Cool." etc etc and so on and so forth.
It was great to meet someone that had Mennonite connections. I asked him directions to the building of which I was headed and he pointed me in the right direction.
I walked into 825 North Capitol St, and had to sign in and go through a metel detector, rode the elevator to the ninth floor, as per directions, went to the desk and told the lady what I was doing there. She told me to sit down and that "she'd be out in a moment."
So I waited, and people walked through. All were dressed in their best, in heels that couldn't be comfortable to walk in, with their shirts tucked in, and their hair up. Soon a woman in her late twenties came out had I handed her my application.
She started scanning over it, making sure it was all filled out, and then she stopped mid line, and asked me, "You are working for Colman McCarthy? How often do you get to see him?"
"Everyday."
"That is so amazing. I used to work at the Washington Center for Interns, and I read some of his books and never gave them back. I should write him a check for them."
She proceeded to finish checking my application, and said,"When you get your letter of approval, I might send some money for the books that I have of his."
I thought that Colman probably couldn't care less about the money, just that the knowledge was getting out, but I didn't say so.
I walked back to the Metro, went home and ate food. Then I proceeded to put "Pulp Fiction" into the VCR because I didn't want to watch soap operas... EPIC FAIL. Because I have never seen "Pulp Fiction" before. So we turned it off after about an hour of me leaving it on and playing Tetris at the same time, and also cleaning my room and packing.
To get to EMU, we all decided that we would leave and ride the metro to the western most part and then Lindsay's dad would come and pick us up. So that's what we did. I had to leave at 4:30, and then I rode the metro all the way to Vienna, and read Deborah Good's "Long After I'm Gone" the entire way. When I got to Vienna, I found a corner, sat down, and waited for Lindsay and Jess to get there. Jess arrived first, and we shared the remnants of her supper and my sandwich. We shared an apple and a sandwich. We looked kind of like travelers on a low budget. That is, until Lindsay arrived. With bags of catered food from her work. Our ride to EMU was uneventful. We knew the snow was coming, but we had no fear. It didn't arrive until Friday morning.
We got to EMU. I scanned myself (there was a card involved) into Maplewood, and decided to peek in the lounge to see who was there. I saw Paul, and decided to stop in and say hi. Which turned into ten minutes of interrogation by Ben and Jon, who were also there. But it was great none the less. Ben helped me carry my bags to Bekah's room, and then I went searching for people to greet. I went to 2nd Maplewood next, and saw Austin, Taylor, and Tyler (with Gibbles Potato Chips) and talked a little bit, and went on my way.
I made it over to Elmwood and wandered down my old hall and wondered who was in my room. I saw Esther was in Pittsburgh, which made me sad, because I wanted to see her, but then I walked down Elmwood North and came upon Autumn's nineteenth birthday party. I saw Monica, Deanna, Autumn, Grace, Bodner, Jacob, and Seth. It was great to see them, and hug them, but after that, there wasn't much to say. It seems that time and maturity are what separate us now. I still connect with Bodner and Monica, but now I'm a bystander of a group of friends. I'm okay with it. I walked down to Ellie's room, and got her really excited and made her quit homework for a moment. We got to talk and that was really great.
Janelle had told me that there was a volleyball game of hers in the Commons, so I headed over there to see her. Along with Ryan, James, and Jenna. It was good to see more familiar faces. I didn't stay long, as I'd left my phone in Bekah's room, and after texting her from Janelle's phone, I headed back over to Maplewood, and located Bekah and Jamila. It was great. Bekah almost took me out. I was afraid she was going to. We went over to Cedarwood and had tea and bread with Allie and talked about love and things, and then we went over to Taylor and Austin's room and I met Doran, someone who transferred to EMU and was from Freeman Academy, and knew who Abi was.
Bekah and I stayed up until midnight talking about DC and what it was really doing for me, and about her life, where she's going from here (CHAD) and what's next for her and Tyler.
Friday morning brought moments of putzing followed by extreme efficiency in getting ready (this is usually what happens every morning.)--I decided to go to breakfast with Bekah. And then saw Common Grounds, checked my phone and decided that I would go to Common Grounds to meet with Laura then. And we did. I got a Tomato Basil and Coffee. First it was House Roast, then French Vanilla, then Decaf (a wise decision). We talked through DC, Zach, my major, and it was great to hear what she thought about all those things. One of the things I appreciated hearing the most was about my major and what she thought about the idea of me being a teacher versus me being a Liberal Arts Major. Laura said that although I might be a great teacher, she thought I'd enjoy teaching high schoolers, for relating to them, but that I shouldn't necessarily consider obtaining a major just to use my scholarship up, and that I might instead be well in getting my degree and finding a job that uses my people relationship skills. And this I agreed with.
Although they cancelled Honors weekend before we left for EMU, around lunch time, they replanned some spontaneous events and Meg and I had to plan to present our Personal Impact Projects. So there were about ten Honors prospective students, and all of their parents, and we winged it.
I had forgotten about my car crash picture. And I threw in a final slide about "Gleaning" (as Colman calls it) which is another word for Dumpster Diving. It was pretty funny. I was all over the place. Judy said it was better the second time.
We played games with the "prospys" as some would call them (ahem. Evan) and then we had supper and the evening contained volleyball and soccer for me. I was angry. I'm not exactly sure about what, and later realized I just didn't quite feel at home like I used to, and it was getting to me.
This was kind of my thought process.-- It's sometimes hard to be in places where I don't feel at home. I feel uncomfortable, and although I'm surrounded by friends, there's an aspect--a piece missing, and it's not quite right. I'm certain it would be different if I was traveling through, if I was welcomed to a bed and treated like a member of the family. That's how I am comfortable--I like to be related to. (and not just in the sense of family)
So yesterday, it was hard to be at EMU but not have a place where I could go to chill, or go to bed.
I slept on Bekah's floor Thursday night, that which is not carpeted. I made it through the night, although neither sleeping on my stomach, back, or sides were ultimately comfortable. But I have to learn to make do sometime. I guess it's really humbling for me to live somewhere where I don't have everything I need, and I have to depend on their mercy to get into the cafeteria (there was going to be great options, as the Honors program was going to have some sort of food all weekend. But then that was cancelled, so I've had to feed from everyone's Den money. Not my favorite way to go.--
I moved down to Leah's room for the next night. I wanted to be able to sleep in a bed, and she had one open. Saturday morning I woke up with sore muscles from soccer, and hunger. I solved my problems with a bagel, of the few that had made their way into my coat with a couple apples. I ate lunch in the caf with people--I got to meet Silas, Emily and Joshua's newest addition to the Elmwood dream team, and then I went back to the dorm. At some point, I ended up in Crystal's room, and we just started talking. I was processing the whole idea about how I didn't really feel at home and she said that she'd felt that way before, and that EMU didn't really feel like a home for her. We watched the movie, "The Gods Must Be Crazy" with Leah and a jar of peanuts which we located in the kitchen. It was a great movie, which I remember watching when I was really little, but it was hilarious to watch a second time. 
We made tea, and I decided that she would be a great roommate and we decided to do that. 
That evening, I watched the second half of the second and the third Bourne movie with a whole bunch of people in the Maplewood second lounge. It was a great movie, and the connections to vampires I cannot decide how they came about, but they were there. It was always about, "Why does he still have that blood on his hand?" "Well, it's because he's a vampire." Hilarious. 
Then Late Night in the Commons rolled around, and someone broke out the four square. There was free pizza involved in the event, and so there was a line involved. I got in line right behind Robert, who I met the first day I was at EMU, at the Perkins Loan Meeting, and after he let one person butt into line with him, all of them came. And his excuse? "It's because I'm a minority, they all come to me."Haha Robert, very funny. But he's a nice guy. Can't avoid those. That's probably why he brought so many people to him in line. 
I had a slice of cheese pizza and then I played volleyball with Nils, Ingrid, Jess, Danny (who was an Honors Prospective Student), and Taylor. It was fun. I felt accomplished, although I did not appreciate Nils' remark about me being a better volleyball player than my sister. 
I was going to go to bed early, but Ellie and I got to talk, and that was great for her and for me. I needed to talk to her. We were going to go running, but plans changed. Next time I come down, we're going to go. Then I was really going to go to bed, and Jamie comes and visits (she actually ends up spending the night (but this happens often)), and tells me about her life and the interesting not-so-good parts as well. 
I go to sleep while Jamie and Leah start to get slap happy.
On Sunday, I woke up to the vibrating of my phone with a text from Bekah "Church". They were having their house church, in maplewood lounge, and so I decided to go, and came in my pajamas. We sang great songs and discussed scripture and it was great. Then we all went to lunch together, and it was a happy day. I really enjoyed the service--the music especially. It's been awhile since I've been a part of worship music that I liked. 
Because of the snowiness outside and the knowledge that DC was failing with cleaning it up, Jess, Linds and I all decided to leave on Monday because we all knew we wouldn't have work. So I go to go to Janelle's Superbowl party. But not before Bekah got her hair cut, and I cut the last row across the back (which I have never done before). And not before I straightened Joel and Bekah's hair and colored pictures. And not before I played some epic games of Rook with Joel (different Joel), Josh, and Brook. And then played a prank on Edwin which involved Joel hitting him with a broom, Brook "hiding" under the cushions in the couch, and his notes (for making graphs for fun!) were hidden in a cereal box and the oven. We gave him SO many hints, but he just couldn't get that "You should make cookies, Edwin." or "Whose cereal is that, Edwin? You should use it in the cookies you make. No, I don't know how to preheat the oven, Edwin, can you show me?"
I love playing Rook. 
The Superbowl Party was epic. Although I accidently consumed a chip dip with bacon in it (woe is me!), there were great commercials to make fun of. (I now expect a screaming chicken to appear in almost every commercial on television, and for it to be for Denny's), and also plays to make fun of (the ref did a dance when the two-point-conversion happened. He looked like he belonged in the sixties for a second. He was that enthusiastic.) And of course, the horrid halftime show--The Who. The drummer was legitimate, but he couldn't remove the pucker from his lips, or the facial expression in general. It was quite a show from his face point. And the bassist was close to having a wardrobe malfunction as his shirt rode up, and we could see flesh, and the occasional belly button. The lead vocalist, well, his scarf matched his glasses. And he reminded Jamila of Phillip... 
We made some crude comments, wondering what the players would look like, with their thick necks, without their uniforms on... oh Jamila. I think I said something funny at some point, although I cannot define it. 
I went to bed before twelve. I think. 
On Monday, I turned in my Learning Disciples Intentional Community housing form, with Crystal, and then I went to lunch and said goodbye to people. But not Jamila, which made me sad. I didn't see her before she left.  I was all ready to go at twelve and I walked to the Physical Plant Parking lot, and I called Lindsay and it turns out she had changed the time to one and forgotten to tell me, so I just went back to Maplewood and wrote a song. Then I went back out at one, and waited by the entrance underneath the physical plant and journaled, sitting on my stuff, waiting for them to arrive. 
We finally left around 1:30, and got back to DC around 4:30. The roads in DC were and are still horrible. 
I was brainstorming again, with my mom, about my Liberal Arts Major, adn looking into a couple different things I could concentrate in. I was thinking Psychology, Social Work, and Bible and Religion. 
I had to unclog a toilet. 
I finished my internship poster. 
But only after looking through an entire week of newpapers and a couple magazines for a picture of a bicycle, and not finding one, I had to find a magazine downstairs to actually find a picture. But it was worth it. I now have a rather comical, but informative poster about what I do every morning at those high schools. 

I'm going to bed at 1:20.

Learning from what I see. And think.

:

I was thinking about how me blogging everyday was causing me to reflect on everything that is going on around me. It's been great. It's better than journalling for me because I can type faster than I can write, so I can remember what I was thinking when I first started writing the sentence. (To a point of course. Some things you just forget and don't ever remember again.) But this reflection pattern that I have embraced is definitely making life more deep. More thinking. I'm getting things done like I want to. I'm learning more. I'm getting to a point where I know my interests, and I know what I enjoy, and I'm in an environment that makes it even better, and it's great. I made a list of goals, which are hung on my wall, which are forming my attitude to what I'm doing right now. These are:

--Seize the day.

--Never be satisfied with my relationship with God. I want more!

--Play the piano more, but not to show off.

--Be a friend and a listener to those who I wouldn't normally spend time with.

--Exercise for mental and emotional health. Eat for economic and world health.

--Write letters with Love, without obligation.

--Keep promises. Think slowly.

--Write down things I need to remember. Pay attention.

--Be true to my own heart. Follow it!

--Make art with a piece of mind. 

These things are reminders that I can make a difference in the world, just by what I eat. Just by listening, or talking to people I don't really know. If I listen to my heart and make sure that I think slowly, I can make good decisions that are well thought out. 

Today classes were cancelled because there was snow. It was nothing like in Ohio. In fact, I wouldn't think twice about snow canceling school if I was in Ohio, but here in D.C., where people depend on public transportation to bring students to school, there is the issue of emergency snow routes. Busses take different routes when there is a lot of snow, and so students couldn't be picked up. In Ohio, the plow trucks work their butts off in the early hours so we could have the privilege of driving--very carefully of course, because plow trucks aren't perfect-- to school. So so sweet of them..

I didn't do a lot. I putzed around all morning. I finished a hat that I was working on. There wasn't much to do this morning. But then we had seminar, I started a scarf right before seminar. I wasn't sure that I was going to have enough yarn, but somehow I did, when I finished my project about twenty minutes ago. I'm really excited about this hat because it has ear flaps!! :) 

During seminar, we went to the Mount Pleasant neighborhood and met Brett Williams, an anthropologist and professor of American University, and she had a discussion with our group about her book, Upscaling Downtown. It was an interesting book, although many of the house did not find any of it relevant (a lot also feel like reading for cross culturals is silly and that these assignments are overrated. I don't have a problem with the assignments, but only because they are making the aspect of living in the city more relevant and understandable. I think it's great to know the background of what other people have been through in an area and how the area has changed. In DC, it's often focused on how they neighborhoods have changed, in the idea of people moving in and out, how housing changed, and just the atmosphere of things. It's making my experience better and I'm looking forward to using my Urban Anthropology skills in the near future.) until we actually met Brett and heard her story and about why she wanted to write the book. 

We went for a walk around the neighborhood after that. It was a good view, there were many different things to notice. Children's toys in the yard, the old phone boxes on the end of the streets converted to miniature art exhibits, and there was also an interesting wigwam skeleton on someone's porch. We walked through an alley--the one that Brett mapped in the book, and she pointed out a house that was straight in front of us. "That's where George Stark lived" (some guy who played for the RedSkins. 

The last thing that we did before leaving to go back to the house was go into a bakery, where Doug treated us to some desserts (which we saved for after supper). I wasn't too gungho about the whole ordeal, I was kind of tired, and not in the mood for shopping for cake, but when we had to have partners to pick out what we wanted to get, I was Jess' partner, and recommended the German chocolate cake. 

We had Italian sausage for supper. I had a Boca burger, which was delicious. I watched "Reign in Me" in spanish with English subtitles. I wish I could understand more, but at this point, I'm not there yet. One of these days I will. Someone should buy me Rosetta Stone in Espanol. I would totally use it in real life--I'm going to Flushing, New York this summer!

My tongue is still sore from something--I may have gotten a cold of some sort. Or celery makes my tongue hurt. I don't know. It isn't that bad though. I only notice when I'm swallowing.  Yesterday at volleyball in our second to last game, I jammed my pinkie really bad. It's healing fine, but it had some aching feelings when I was knitting and when I'm texting. And I also think about it. But don't worry. I'm not playing volleyball tomorrow because I'm heading to Harrisonburg for the weekend. I'm no longer a rookie to the Honors Weekend festivities. I'm going to present my Taking Out the Trash project. Its going to be interesting. 

Awesome New Exciting Perfect YEEEEEAAAA!

Can you tell I'm excited? It seems like everything is coming together, and I forget how wonderful it feels to reach this point.
I went to Garrison today to meet Hassan Abdulluah, and I also got to see his class. I forgot how small second graders are. But at the same time, it's what I want to do! Yay for meeting second graders and loving it. Hassan introduced me to the class, said "This is Grace Engle. She is in college, like where all of you will be someday," and then he asked them, "Do you have any questions?"
Five or six of the twenty six he has in his class (!) raised their hands, and I pointed to each of them.
"Thank you for coming to help in our class!"
"We love that you are coming."
"Thank you, Ms. Engle!"
None of them asked questions. But it made me smile.
In my excited state, I decided to walk part of the way home, figuring that the directions were pretty self explanatory (S St to Rhode Island to 10th.) but I got confused (these things happen when in the city) and I ended up on the H8 bus and got dropped off at home.
I found the volunteer application online and started filling it out, and I plan to get my fingers printed on Thursday. I'm just really pumped about working at this school.
Then I ate some Shepherd's Pie (yes, it did taste better the second day. And I was also very hungry.), and conversed with Bryan about the word "torrid" and it's use in connection with the Washington Capitals (which is a ice hockey team, by the way).
I got the mail a little later, and continued my afternoon of awesomeness. I got a letter, but from someone in Maryland, and my address was handwritten so I knew it wasn't junkmail. I soon realized what it was.
Last Friday evening, on my way to Takoma Park and Contra Dancing, I got the mail, and received a belated, but relevant letter from my aunt for graduating from high school (wow, it seems so long ago.). But I misplaced/forgot it at Contra Dancing, and I was certain I would never see it again. But this letter from Maryland was it! And the woman who sent it back to me,  Jennie,  left her phone number and I called her and expressed much thanks for the kindness. I had prayed about it, and then left in God's hands, because I knew that if I was going to get it back, that someone would mail it to me, and I stopped worrying about it. I was rather thankful for that.
Jennie congratulated me for my graduation... haha.
I then got onto Gmail, and was looking through my emails, and I saw something from Sherrie, who works for EMM, and has been contacting me about doing a short-term mission somewhere. I had thought about doing YES, but it seemed like it would be a bad time for family circumstances, so I had to tell her no, which was difficult, because I really wanted to be a part of the program after Zach was. But then she sent me this email about a summer opportunity, in New York City. Some of the things that I could be a part of--an After School Program and Summer Academy, an English as a Second Language Teacher (though I'm not really qualified for that), and secondary options like--get this-- Homeless Shelter Outreach (!), Soccer Outreach (! :D), Worship Team (singer or musicians) (:D:D:D!!!!). It's perfect for me! I emailed Sherri back and told her that this felt like it was right. It wasn't just one aspect that I liked. But it was in the city, with kids, with school with homeless shelters, with soccer, with Worship Team and Singing! God is giving this option to me and I am so excited.
Person I met today: Jenna Levine, who sent me my card from Aunt Karis.

What is Life?

 We attended a play called "In the Red and Brown Waters" Sunday night. It was unique, the actors saying their stage directions before their lines. The cast was almost all African American, the story depicted from an African American Project in a some state. The story circled around Oya, a young fast runner who skips out on a college scholarship because her mother was dying, and her options ran out. She lives with one guy, a seductive, but fierce soul, and then he leaves for the army. She lives with another, sweet, but boring to Oya, and she can't help but wonder why she hasn't become pregnant again. She slowly loses the things she wants and the things she loves. She goes crazy on her front porch, wanting a baby. When the first love comes back from the army, but impregnates another girl, Oya comes out of the insanity closet. She cuts off part of her ear and gives it to him. I liked the play very much. It was edgy and rough, and had the culture of African Americans in the inner city down. I could feel it. There was sexual references, and swearing, but I came prepared for this, and so I could look past that distractions, and the plot was unpredictable as they come (hello! Who knew Oya was gonna pull a Van Gogh on us?) Not everyone in the group liked it. Several of my houesmates are rather conservative, but I know Jess liked it, and Corrie liked parts of it.
I rode back with Corrie. We went "sightseeing" and found the Peace Corps and the NPR buildings. Nobody comes to DC to see those, but we did. That's right. We're awesome. I was processing with her; each of us were talking about our weekends. I, getting to talk to Zach, but knowing that it won't happen again for a long, long time, and Corrie spent her weekend on snowy roads to metal concerts, but did some really great problem solving with Parveen. Corrie is my cooking partner and my driving buddy.
(I just typed 'bundle' but everyone would be creeped out by that...)
Today at Wilson High School, a man in his mid-thirties came to speak to the students about his experience in prison for committing manslaughter. He was sixteen when he was coming out of a party and a guy pulled a gun on him, and he also had a gun, and Eddie (this guy) shot him in the neck and the other guy died a couple hours later. It was in self defense, but he still got tried as an adult, and was sentenced to twenty two years (fifteen of which he served). Eddie started out in the DC jail, but after it closed, he traveled from super max prison to super max prison until he finished out his sentence. I asked him why he was in a super maximum prison, because it didn't seem to fit his crime--he didn't maliciously kill this man, and he told me that he was put in a new prison by luck of the draw, and since he was in a super maximum at one point, he couldn't go down a level. Some of his fellow inmates had longer sentences than he did, and got into maximum and medium facilities. So instead, Eddie served in one prison that had solitary confinement, he served in the prison in Colorado that also holds terrorist suspects (which Jess said are some Arabs that had bad luck). It was a great story. He said that being tried as an adult sacved his life, because he hadn't changed from his old ways by the time a normal juvenile sentence would have been over. Now Eddie is working in a law firm, mentoring former inmates, helping those who have gone through similar situations. It was a great story. I appreciated what he had to say.
When I was waiting at the bus stop, there was a delightful man who looked to be in his eighties, named Mundy. He had a few teeth, a personality, and told me he was an artist. I asked him what advice he would give to some kids.
He said, "Behave."
I asked, "What if they misbehave?"
"Give them a spanking."
It was hilarious.
I made Vegetarian Shepherd's Pie for part of the afternoon when no one was home. It was a great Grace-talks-on-the-phone-with-Mom-time, and clean the kitchen's crumminess time.
I Skyped with Janelle today. That was fun.
My quote of the day that made Jess spit out her water in laughter:
"Do you have experience with an ipod touch?"