I'm looking at the [Wo]man in the mirror!

Okay, so it's reflection time. Partially because I have to write a reflection journal (yep one more journal) for my seminar class, and partially because it's good and healthy to reflect on different parts of one's life. I do it regularly, as you have read, I'm sure. 
Reflections
On Washington D.C
So from my experience in D.C., most were positive. I loved being where everyone was, seeing all the dreadlocks, meeting two or three new people everyday, and learning about different perspectives. I was challenged and blessed with so many people in D.C. Some of these people were in my house, some were those that I worked with--but everyone was wonderful to spend time with and grow from. I have found a place for myself in the city. I can understand different things, I'm less likely to stereotype, and I'm less likely to worry. I think that after being in Brookland, and walking home from the Metro whether in the dark or in the day, being in and out of two high schools with very different perspectives almost everyday, and spending time with the youth of the city at Garrison Elementary school, I can be prepared for anything--less a language barrier, which I'm certain to be approaching in my time in NYC this summer. I'm looking forward to that. D.C. has made me realize issues that matter to me, and what justice I want to work for in my life--and be proactive about.
On working with Colman McCarthy
It's not like I went to bed early every night because I was looking forward to spending time with Colman, but I was looking forward to some aspect of my internship, because I went to it and learned something. The first thing I learned is that fame is relative. Not that Colman is famous, but there are many people who put those who are well known on pedestal and make them seem bigger than they really are. And Colman, well, he's just the feisty grandpa type, with some exceptions. It's not very often you find a grandpa that eats a vegan diet--most are known for coming to grandma's house for the good stuff. Colman also bikes just about everywhere. If I had to categorize him,  he'd be a hippie that never quit 'hipping' with out the artificial stimulants that most hippies participated in. The truth is, hippies where almost after his time, and are definitely in the past now.. So I think he's just Colman McCarthy. I don't think there is another seventy-one year old like him.
Being in a consistent environment where I was always hearing ideas being argued and discussed with different sides at all times, and hearing about new issues every time I was located at my internship was really quite a burden at some points. There were days when I'd come home from work and be pissed off at the world, the American government, corporations, etc. But there were good solid people who reminded me that all governments have issues, as we are people, and that we can make a difference in our own government--we are lucky. Many other people all around the world have no say in what their government does. I was affected by the issues that were discussed--just hearing the beneficiaries and the people who were screwed over by many issues--with animal rights--the slaughterhouse workers, with the war--veterans with PTSD, with competition for jobs--people getting laid off.
Physically, I decided to go vegan--I was feeling the pull of guilt of eating dairy products because drinking milk promotes veal production, and I do not approve of that. I know that I wouldn't want to be stuck in a prison where I couldn't turn around, and living in my own poop, so why should I use products that advocate for that? I also watched Sweeney Todd with a good friend of mine, and was completely disgusted with the death in the movie, and though it was Hollywood, I couldn't get the gross pictures out of my head. I would rather not think about death that way, and seeing a hamburger or a chickent breast made me recognize that these were once living, breathing things. So I decided to not eat that anymore.
Morally, I was affected by the continual idea that there is a lot of injustice in the wars around the world, past and present, and it made me angry--about many things. Why wasn't I educated on the School of Americas in high school? Why doesn't the fact that America is allies with many dictatorships get talked about more often? Why haven't the land mines all over the world be taken care of already? How come I never knew that Bin Laden was Saudia Arabian, was an ally of the U.S, and warned the U.S that they would attack us if we didn't remove our military base from their country? Why doesn't the United States just change it's foreign policy and have the army do humanitarian things like the army in New Zealand?
It never ceases to amaze me how easy these things would be.
On living in the WCSC house
Ahh, where do I begin? So many good things happened! I got to know everyone in the house at different times! There were just enough people to spend a little time with everyone. Christa and I would go to CVS and to YES and buy food and things for the house, think about playing soccer and just talk about life! She also lent me her H crochet hook, and I've never been the same since! Once I figured out most of everyone's personalities, I could joke with them, and hope that they wouldn't think I was being serious. Jasmine and I had some great conversation--between talking frankly about feeling depressed, and her telling me to go to bed on time, we had some bonding time when we were sun bathing (although I never actually looked like I got any serious sun). Corrie and I had some good cookings days--we made ravioli and spontaneous lack of recipe meals that were still awesome. We went on car rides to the store and sang loudly in the car. She came with me to get my nose pierced. We had some good talking time between that one random trip to Harrisonburg and some other times that we were just driving all over D.C... Jessica and I beasted out some pretty fantastical music. Though it became less and less as the semester went on, we both had a good comradeship and we were quite hilarious together. Bry and I had some sets of jokes, Sanj and I would bake together and make crack coffee, Andrew and I had some good times walking to the metro those last few weeks. Fets and I--we were close--I nodded to him as he passed my room to go to his, and he'd nod back.. no really we were bffs. Lindsay and I went to volleyball together. We saw movies together. We went tangoing together. And all the walking and talking in between. As a house, we weren't completely dysfunctional. Everyone had different personalities and we got used to those. Even though in the end some of the grocery money was spent on honey buns, I still loved those guys. They did a great job. Though there were some interesting issues, like alcohol, and a little bit of senior apathy, I still felt like it was a good semester, and I grew in myself and in my friendships with others. I also got to know Emily, one of the directors. She and I went contradancing together, dumpster diving, I went to help serve food at the homeless outreach she worked for, we talked about out lives, we comtemplated going running, we gardened and moved compost and poop and made a flowerbed, I helped make salad and curried veggies at her dinner party, we played songs that we each had written --it was a blast and I had so much fun. This semester I knitted two blankets and started on a bag.
On deciding what I want to major in at EMU
I finally decided what I wanted to do with my college career. For so long, I thought that I was just going to get my liberal arts degree and graduate next year. But as I kept thinking about it--it felt insufficient for what I wanted to do for the world and just graduating to get the degree seemed silly and not right. So Social Work, something I had contemplated since I had been in the house with two Social Work seniors doing their practicums, became a thought once more. I discussed it with some wise souls that i lived with and they helped me see what it was that I really wanted to do. There was also a moment over spring break when I was at the Epp's house when I saw what could be done to help kids who are parents be good parents so that their kids, when they are old enough, make good decisions, and at least, if they do have kids, can be good parents as well. And I was driven by that. I want to give back. I have been so blessed by growing up in a good home and with parents who love me and care for me all the time. And it works with people, and it works with kids too!
On being hit on one million times
I learned that wearing my hair down has an effect on the male population. I learned how to weasel my way out of those conversations, to freak the creepers out ("what? You're only nineteen?!") how to strike back ("hey sweetheart, do you have a pen" "My name is Grace, and no I don't have a pen."). I know that walking with a guy can protect me from that most of the time, but there will be times when it won't ("She's got a butt"). I learned that there are guys out there who will find me attractive when I'm wearing no makeup, my glasses, my hair up, in sweatpants, a big T-shirt and a sports bra, and there is nothing I can do about it. So in conclusion, there is nothing I can do to make them stop. But I can be an intelligent woman in response, quick with my words, and not let them get to me. I will respond.

Overall, I love being in an urban setting. There's a lot that i like. And when I can take my retreats back to Wauseon or to Amishland Ohio, I am content with the silence as well. I guess there will be a time when I might have both in my life.

Time Flies?

Anna's been out of the U.S. for the entire semester with the Guatemala crosscultural. I feel like I haven't seen her in a long time, and I can't wait for her to return home. Yet, when I hear about the Middle East Cross Cultural, and that they are coming back in a week--the same thing, I barely think they have been gone at all. This may or may not have anything to do with the fact that I'm not emotionally close to anyone on that Cross Cultural, whereas I am close to Anna, Stacy, and somewhat to several others that are on the trip. So I guess that the time flies for those you don't think about.

Same thought, different people. There are several YES teams--Albania and Venezuela, I think--that are finishing up at the end of April. In fact, they will be debriefing with me when I enter training. Their time has flown. All of a sudden, the end of the semester is a week and a half away, and there is so much to show for it, but there is so much that is still shifting--still insecure--and I am shifting and insecure as well.
I think what I'm referring to are the different things going on this summer, and where I'm going to be with all of these, and if they are going to work out. One thought--I'm going to New York, and I'm over halfway funded. I know when I'm going into training, and I know when I'm arriving in New York, but I only have a little of an idea of what I will be doing. Also, I'm signed up to earn service learning credit hours for the three months I will be there.

The issue there is that I've been in communication with the woman in charge for almost the entire semester, and I feel like everything has been moving at snail speed, and I wish it was all clarified, and I knew which professor would be my mentor, and what type of reading I should be pursuing to satisfy that portion of the contract.
I've finally made a decision about my major, which makes life take a completely different path. I'm excited about this because suddenly there is a defined path with a street named "Grace --->" and I know which way to turn. I know that there is passion in this area. I know this because I could do these things for no money and be satisfied--I'm doing it now, paying for it.  This is like music for me. People are my other music, they challenge me to do different things, to try harder keys and progressions, and write different words. This is why I want to train in the field of Social Work. And I know this time is going to fly as well. Soon all of these classes are going to be satisfied, and I'm going to be shipped back to Washington D.C. for my senior practicum, and then onward, to another city, to do what God has glistened my life with. Love others.

We watched "The Count of Monte Cristo" after we got home from the game. I remember reading through the book--same title-- by Alexander Dumas, in eighth grade, and showing Casey the name of the author for his own entertainment. I remember reading it and loving it, though the Count chooses revenge--even over love and those begging for forgiveness. But while watching the movie, I also recalled how long it had been since I'd read the book. Five long years. Years of change, growth, Maturity. It's time to read "the Count" again.
It's interesting to me how we can become so enveloped into things we are interested in. They take our minds--imaginations-- and run with them, skipping through ideas, and dreams. The shiny facade of movies do that exactly. They stimulate our brains--but only to what we can follow within the story.
I'm a commenter. I think of things in the storyline that I find interesting, or funny, or relevant to something that it reminds me of, and I make it known. And I'm more likely to do it with someone that I know well. I've been reminded of this by Zach, and before, I actually wasn't aware that I was a commenter. It's something Dad does too--whenever he and Mom attend a church service that they are not involved in, he sits next to her, and during the sermon, he whispers his comments into her ear. It drives my mom crazy. So it's completely insane that I didn't know that I did this--unless it doesn't annoy Zach. Which I probably will end up asking him.. But I became aware of this tonight, while we were watching the movie, because Jess was sitting next to me, and she said, "Grace, if you whisper in my ear one more time.." Oops. Didn't mean to annoy you.  In relevance to what I've been talking about, this movie flew by, and before we knew it, it was ten to one, and I was still wide awake (probably due to the slight amount of mystery coffee that I added to my hot soy cocoa before I joined the movie clan).
Something to think about. I don't like wasting things, and of all of these, I hate wasting time. That being said, I hate the idea of missing out on things that are happening. For example, this summer, I'm not going to be able to work at Camp Luz. I'm not going to meet the new campers, whether Mini or Youth, or work with the new staff, and become a better facilitator. I'm going to miss it a lot, and miss the trusting deep friendships that occur only in that type of situation. But I also know that my time is not going to be wasted, and before I know it, I'm going to be leaving a new set of friends behind in NYC to come back to EMU, and stability and love. All of these things that I will also be leaving behind in NYC, and in D.C., and in Wauseon, and in Streetsboro. And eventually, EMU will be left behind. This too shall pass.
This time. And I don't want to waste it. Which brings me to my next point.
I see how some people are in need of a fix-a drug to make them open, or happy, or easy-to make their life worth living. But I don't--I can't stand the idea of being so wasted that you can't remember what happened. I can't stand the idea of spending so much money on drinks that you can't pay for the taxi home. I can't imagine being so drunk that you can't stand up straight or see where you are going. I've experienced fun with people--insane laughter, slap happy moments, and sleepless nights. And I remember them. Because I wanted to. And if these things are meant to happen, they will, and for me, I will try to make them remembered, because I don't want to have to worry that I'll ever do something I will regret.
I feel as if when I reach the age of twenty one, I will drink alcohol. But I will only do so if it is something I can enjoy. I hope that it will not become something social and something that I do to show how adventurous I am (this could be a weakness). I hope that I drink because I like the taste, and not for a buzz and a feeling. I hope that money I spend will be in moderation, as will the amount I consume.
I want to remember all that I've done and all that I've experienced. Time not remembered is time wasted, no matter what anyone tries to say.

I haven't stayed up this late, or this awake in a long time. I can finally say that I'm done with whatever illness ailed me, and that I am rather blessed to be filled with energy to do things with people. That time where I couldn't do anything because I was so tired was rather deteriorating to my mental state, and now I feel beautiful and happy, and I am really content. And now, I am going to church tomorrow. Thus I should sleep for a part of that, es verdad?