Where I have come from: Health and Exercise-wise

My name is Grace, and I was in Weight Watchers in middle school. My Aunt Rachel had lost 100 pounds on Weight Watchers and had reached her goal the summer before I went into seventh grade, and the Art Teacher that I volunteered for had also joined Weight Watchers and was an example for me as I was very overweight for a twelve year old. I joined Weight Watchers at the end of October in 2003, and after a year of staying with the program and writing everything down that I ate, with a couple of relapses and plateaus, I lost a little more than 45 pounds and was considered healthy on the BMI scale. I made Lifetime membership with Weight Watchers and could attend the meetings free as long as I stayed within two pounds of my goal.
High school came around and though I made sure that I exercised, I slacked on the writing down of what I ate, and put on a little bit of weight. Then I would exercise and eat right for a little while and then lose five to ten pounds. But then I'd be happy again--probably a new boyfriend or down a size in clothes, and I'd slack off and gain a little bit of weight again. This whole situation would then rinse and repeat.
There were a couple habits I picked up on the way. On Weight Watchers, there is a points system, and depending on your weight and the amount of activity your normal lifestyle includes, you get a certain amount of points. Vegetables are mostly 0 points, thus a free food, and thus I would/do/will eat large portions of vegetables, and now it's habitual that I eat a lot of veggies to fill up my stomach.
I discovered Splenda. At first it was just supposed to be an ingredient in Weight Watchers recipes that we'd copy down each week at the meetings, and then I started using it in my milkshakes I made for breakfast, and then in oatmeal, and then I started to have a habitual addiction to my homemade hot chocolate water (which is cocoa powder, Splenda, mostly hot water and a little bit of cold milk).
When I started going to University of Akron, I'd buy a diet Mountain Dew, or a low carb energy drink, and by the end of the two years I commuted there, I was drinking two diet Mountain Dews, or other carbonated drinks each day--I really had no self control in the area of drinking these drinks.
Then my friend Wendy and I started going to Dunkin' Donuts to get iced coffee--it started with those coupons for free drinks. We branched out to the local Starbucks, and then we would hang out at Target. When Pulp showed up in town, we'd go get smoothies. They were amazing. I was pretty much addicted to the sweet drinks. I somehow exercised enough to make it okay, and maintained my weight.
I've been eating whole wheat and whole grain, natural sugars, and anything that is an alternative to an unhealthy option. But my motives were all wrong. This past semester, I realized why I should eat healthy, and that reason was not to be sexy. Although eating righteously does have a certain appeal...
I eat local food to support local economy, I know where it comes from, and I know that people are taking care of the plants and animals--it's not in a factory. I buy food at a co-op because I know it supports those it is surrounded by, and even though it's more expensive, it's better for the world long term. I avoid high fructose corn syrup because they derive it from corn. Which is a vegetable. I don't eat meat because I know that the meat was produced using excessive amounts of water, and that the cows were in pens that were squeezed tight and were suffering their entire lives. I buy fair trade chocolate and coffee because I know that the people in the other countries were not slaves in their own trade.
That's why I eat healthy. I exercise, not to lose weight, but to meet people. I walk places to become familiar with the community, and to take my time with life. I run to communicate with others. I move to get places. It's not about losing weight or being thin, or having a six pack. It's about finding a healthy routine in life that benefits me in the long run, so that I can live long and prosper with what life is about.

You know it's in the Corners of Your Mind

What happened to the people that we knew in elementary school?
Because of networking websites like Facebook, everyone's need to stalk other people, just the idea of dwelling in the past, and remembering the good times, we can now connect with people that we never thought that we'd see or hear from again. I have several examples of this.
It always helps to reconnect with the people that we knew, but in the end, you've both changed, and the last word is that you both knew each other once, but you all changed so much that it's almost impossible to connect with them and be good friends, unless you discard the past and start over.
I think that doing just that is rather difficult.
I see pictures of people that I used to know, and note how much they changed. The problem with facebook is that it gives everyone access to everyone's information--so it's easy to learn a lot about someone, but not know them. So I could be the most informed person on Facebook, but be a recluse and never talk to people (which isn't what I am, by the way).
I just find it hard to watch people that I used to know, the innocent and beautiful-without-makeup people cover themselves with mascara and foundation until all they are is another Barbie in the world of millions of Barbies, who all look blonde and the same. And it's even more difficult to watch the once playground-induced fun become drinking, drugs, and sexy "fun."
I have a hard time with that.
Facebook has it's perks. I can network myself, or things I want people to know about, and can tag people to get them to know what I'm up to. I can post pictures and my friends in Florida and California can look at the pictures and tell me what they think about my life. I can keep in contact with my cousins, and chat with friends that I met in Pennsylvania. I can wish Happy Birthday to people, even though I would inevitably not even know about their birthday otherwise. So I'm thankful for the notifications in that aspect.
At the same time, people can dance on the line of stalking others by looking through all the pictures that they are tagged in. (and I am by no means innocent of this). People can follow wall to walls of others who they suspect might start dating... (which I am not guilty of)
I think that Facebook is a great way to connect with people through the internet and there are so many great options that let us find our friends that we danced with a couple times at Mormon Prom our sophomore year in high school, or the kids that were in Sunday School with us when we were toddlers in Tulsa Oklahoma.
My favorite is when you find that guy that you had a crush on in middle school that you didn't even tell your friends about, and then you see what a nice (or loserhead) he has become.
One of the things that I am most thankful for on Facebook is within the Facebook chat, actually. You can separate your friends into catergories--and make lists of people that you know from one place or another--a tactic that can help you remember each person in case you forget. Which is completely wonderful. But something really useful-- if there's a person that you don't want to offend by removing their friendship (how obvious is that??) you can block them on online chat by making them into their own group, and then putting that individual group offline at all times. I've only done that a couple times. I don't like creepers.
I'm thankful for Facebook, for the ways I can connect with people, and hopefully make them laugh in their days, by making stupid comments on their photos, or random chats on Facebook chat. I love that I can keep in contact with my family and Zach's family through it, and have better connections through it.

Day In & Day Out

Day In
Tuesday was busy (thus no blog), even though I wasn't at my internship, I got up really late, and went to bed rather early.
I awakened to the melody of something weird coming from the TV, and my housemates laughing. But it was okay--at 11:30 in the morning, one doesn't complain about waking up late. I just wished that they would have been loud after they'd left the house, but the guys are kind and funny, so I forgave them.
I spent my morning on my feet--there was some pesky, will-not-be-used-Asian spices. (A couple years ago, after Eileen and Wendy moved out of the house, they took most of the food stuff they used, but they did leave some stuff, and as much as we meant to use it, we were too sick of Taiwanese food to even think about touching it. We threw most of it out. I think Mom held onto some tea, in the memory of Eileen, and all of their Good Times. It's still in the tea cabinet.) Anyway, that was what I call an extended explanation with a rabbit trail. So I sorted out the spice cabinet, whilst moving strange Asian Spices. Now there is lots more room for...hopefully not more spices. We really need a way to organize it--like for example, my mom has a spinning two layer lazy Susan, small enough to fit in out spice cabinet at home. We need one of those here. Especially for separating spices to discover which ones we have or not (it seems like there was some miscommunication for the last spice cabinet captain, because there were three half used basil, oregano, and red pepper...
Before he left, Sanjay got a look of a Christmas tree for a moment, and exclaimed "you should make cheesecake cupcakes." I told him if he gave me the recipe I would, and he emailed it to me, and I made them. They were very tasty. They didn't last long in our house.
It was a great afternoon, I got a lot done, and unloaded the dishwasher a couple times, and then I walked to the post office.
It was a little bit more a trek than I thought it would be, but I made it there and got my stamps, but not after waiting a little while, and listening to one woman tell her friend about her black dentist, and the false teeth that he gave her. There was a gentleman opening the post office door for everyone coming in. That made my day.
There were just so many people out on the streets; it was a really nice day. No weirdos, actually. There were little kids walking home from school--and I was happy to see one of them carrying a clarinet case. I was going to ask him about it, but he turned instead of waiting at the crosswalk.
I went to YES organic food market, and used my cheap grocery logic, and picked a ball of mozzarella, a carton of brown eggs, a jar of organic Prego spaghetti sauce, and two zucchini for some recipes coming up in the week. (Lindsay is in charge of the petty cash, and as long as we don't overspend our $300 for the week for food, I can get a refund in exchange for my recipe.)
What I didn't realize about the food that I bought, and my insisting on using my backpack to carry them home, is that it isn't wise to carry glass jars and eggs, fresh produce and soft cheese in the same bag, but i somehow made it home without bruising or breaking anything. Yay!
I bought the mozzarella for the lasagna that I was making for supper. I figured that I would shred it myself, and save myself the money. I did shred it myself, but it was a lot softer than mozzarella cheese has ever been for me before, so it was slightly messy. (We also decided as a house that we were going to buy blocks of cheese and shred them ourselves, because we use so much cheese, to save money. I'm really happy that I have a say on what we should do to reduce cost. Next step, powdered milk yogurt. Mom, by the way, I need to find the recipe for that. Is it in More with Less?
I made lasagna, with much passion, and skill. It made the house smell like Italian heaven. I then made Garlic Broccoli, though a little overcooked and almost burnt it. Corrie had gotten back from work by this point, and was making a salad, so I think I was a little distracted. It didn't help that it was on high heat, as the recipe declares. I think more than a half cup water was necessary.
Dinner was yummy, then some of us worked on the paper that was due today. I'd finished my half of Fets and I's paper, and so I was all set to go play volley ball. Only Lindsay, Andrew, and I played volleyball. Corrie was there, running, but she decided not to play volleyball--she's training for a marathon in April.
Volleyball was a blast, as usual, but I felt like I was actually learning something. I thought I couldn't set the ball at all. But it turns out that I can--I guess I just didn't really have any confidence. But what I was learning, and you learn more each time, is that the back row returns the serve when it's first over the net with a bump (which you don't swing, you just place yourself where the ball is coming), then the middle front or who ever is closest sets it, and if someone is in the front row, they should slam it (or in Lindsay's case, punch it) over the net. You can't hit the net, you can't cross the line under the net when hitting, you can't cross the back line when you are. If your team isn't playing, you are a line judge or keeping points at the net; I was a line judge. Hands down is "in", hands up is "out". Volleyball on Tuesday goes from 7-8:30, which basically means that we play as close to 9:00 as we possibly can, so close that they will yell at us.
I came home and went to bed at 10:30, because I had to wake up early to get to my bus to ride to Tenleytown.

Day Out
I woke up at 7:20 to get ready. Then I left the house by 8:20, which, as I was certain, I was on time to the schedule that I'd written down. When I got to the bus stop, I was on time, and I waited for the bus. I knew which bus I needed to get on--H4, heading toward Tenleytown. And I also know that Brookland was the end of the the H4 bus route, and that Tenleytown was the other end. So you would understand why I was confused when the H4 bus came with the heading of "Van Ness UDC". I knew this was close to Tenleytown, but I didn't get why they didn't just put Tenleytown.. and my directions said that it was toward Tenleytown, and then I was mad at WMATA, confused, as I got on the bus, and started riding. I got out my notebook and looked at the directions that I was supposed to follow.
"Directions to Tenleytown: @7:20 leave for Metro, take H4 bus toward Tenleytown."
Shoot. I woke up an hour late. The difference was that I wasn't stressed, and now that I was on the bus on my way there was nothing I could do about it. So I read Animal, Vegetable, Miracle and waited. And waited. 8:45, my proposed time of arrival, came and went, and I rode the bus and read. I got impatient, got off the bus near a Redline Station, asked for directions to the Metro (a kind, middle-aged, chic lady pointed me in the right direction), got on the Metro, rode it until Tenleytown station two stops later, climbed the stairs, and crossed the street to Wilson High School just as the H4 bus arrived. . . Talk about irony.
I went into the school, signed in and went through the security, really fast, though there were some students that were messing around that were giving the security guard a pain in her butt. I got to Colman's room at 9:40, a little later than I wanted to, but when I got there, Colman was chill and I just sat right down, and joined in with what was going on.
He was actually reading through some of his self-made evaluations--I think that parts that he found humorous--and that led to some discussions about catcalling, abuse in relationships, and movies that they watched in class. During class, some people got distracted--Adrian was on his iPod looking up facts on HIV/AIDS part of the time, while eating Mike 'n' Ikes, and drinking a red colored soda. Some students came into class after I did. (Colman doesn't make his students take tests because it's an unfair way to test them, so there wasn't a final exam). And of course, you have your sleepers, extended-bathroom-break-ers, and those that blow their nose out in the hall several times during class (although I think he's legitimate).
After class, Colman was going to find out the schedule for next semester, but the information wasn't quite ready yet. I rode the bus home. On the way, a woman and her six-month-old baby got on and sat next to me. I started a conversation with her. Actually, the little boy, but directed toward her.
"Where are you going?" I asked him.
"We're going home. We just got immunization shots." She responded..
"What's his name?"
"Chekeesee" (I think. It was something like this.)
She talked about how he addresses adults with an assertive "uuu", but not children, and decided that she wants to put him in daycare so he'll interact with other babies a little more. It was wonderful. Then he was talking to me, while I was reading, and she shushed him, and told him that "You shouldn't interrupt her reading." It was so sweet.
I got a phone call from Sanj on my way home telling me to finish Fets and I's paper because Fets' mom and he went out for lunch. So I rushed home, made eggs on toast, celery and apple slices, then abandoned my dinner and ran to Fets' computer and attempted to type a conclusion paragraph. I usually don't put off writing papers down to the last second, so it was kind of hard for me to conclude on what we were writing... but I poopled something out.
Our first official seminar class was okay. I took notes for everything so I didn't lose Doug. I was sorta tired so my mind was everywhere. I was thinking about shopping later,  how much I missed Zach, how hungry I was, what I was going to eat when break started, and of course what we were talking about in class. But it was a miscellaneous thought mix.
After class, Christa and I walked to PNC Bank, CVS, Yes Organic on 12th street. It was a little cooler than my walk yesterday, but we got there without dying from the cold, it was more of a slight brisk feeling.  We walked over to the bank, and I was going to cash Lindsay and Jessica's checks--they endorsed them and everything and I signed the checks as well, but the teller said that the other person whose checks they were had to be there with identifiable ID, and that was frustrating.
We walked to CVS and located the loofahs (all over $3), then proceeded to the dishwasher soap. I went to ask about getting a CVS card, one clerk said I couldn't get one because they were out of applications, but I asked another, politely, and she gave me a card and told me to register online. Talk about efficient.
Only thing is, we got back and CVS.com was NOT behaving. But no matter. We still got a working card. (for now.)
We stopped and walked through YES! organic, and found a wonderful mini bulk section! Christa and I wrote down prices for the things we thought we might buy in bulk, and then walked home.
Dinner was interesting. As it usually is when there aren't any other options for veggietarians besides leftover lasagna and rice. Yay for for green beans and dumper dove organic sliced apples. I have had so many in the past week. That and celery. I could live on the two.. and peanut butter, and chocolate.
Speaking of vegetarianism. It's going well. All the vegetarians are talking of eating fish in the next week, and I think I will participate in that ritual. As far as the Splenda cold-turkey experiment is going, I'm surviving. I have been participating in the ritual of eating natural sugar, and I don't think my figure is suffering. For now, I have to watch the dark chocolate though. It sneaks up on me. And then shoves itself into my mouth. And I cannot help myself.
We had a pre shopping meeting, and a house meeting (with post shopping notes) and then Christa and I chatted about majors and boys, while exchanging back rubs.
I was looking through the drawers of the TV stand (there are six drawers--it's a BIG TV stand), and I located several magazines that are begging to be cut up tomorrow!! :) There was also random things like prohibited thumb tacks, which may or may not be pushed into my wall this semester for collages...
But the best find, even of the magazines--a book--How to Live Your Dream of Volunteering Overseas. 
Woot Woot! Yaya. I'm totally going to read that this weekend when almost no one is here and I have all this time to be a bump on a log. And then I will tell you of my life plans.

By the way, I contemplated being an English Teacher today. It might be something in my future. But as of now, I'm content taking 300 level English Writing courses to satisfy my LIberal Arts and graduating in 2011. What you think?

PSBTW. My thumb is getting a blister from typing.....

Martin Luther King, Jr. Day DC Style, First Group Outing!

I woke myself up early today to get on a bus to go hear Colman McCarthy present a nonviolent talk to some high schoolers in Carnegie Institution, but I missed my stop, because it was different than what was on WMATA. So I rode a little while longer, wistfully thinking that I would come to the stop that would lead me in the right direction. Never happened. Instead, a very sweet African lady sat across from me for awhile, and asked me what I was writing. "Arr you wriTing about da ciTy?" Her accent was quite beautiful, although I had a hard time catching what she was saying the first time she said it. (I was writing a letter to Zach at the time.) I ended up getting off at McPherson Square, and rode the Redline back home with my tail in between my legs. I totally forgot I had a map in my purse.
I helped Lindsay make brunch for the guys and Christa who waited in line for the tickets we got for our outing. I made eggs--with onions, pepper, deli turkey (hey, it's what's in the fridge), and cheddar cheese. I didn't have any of it though--I'm still working the vegetarian thing, so I had some sunny-side-up eggs. Which wasn't as fun tonight when they made Cheese Stuffed Chicken Breasts, and all that we had was Spaghetti. But I still love those guys. They are amazing cooks!

It was this morning when we started getting excited for the concert we were going to. The guys and Christa got back with all ten tickets (though they said the line was insane, and they were glad they got there when they did), and they said the secret service were all up in there, and so I googled the event, and read that the Obamas were supposed to be there, along with the obvious India.Arie, and the Let Freedom Ring Choir. The fact that I was going to get to see Obama for the first time in person made me really excited.
Because of our hectic schedule, we had to eat supper really early--4:00, and then hustle everyone out of the house and get to the Metro and catch the Redline to the Metro Center and head to Foggy Bottom. Everyone was dressed up--some to the nines, some to the eighties, but anyways, we all looked nice as we speed-walked to the metro station. We caught the 4:49 train and got to Foggy bottom with lots of time to spare. To our delight and convenience, there was a shuttle directly to the Kennedy center waiting for us when we got there, and although some of us had to stand and hold on for dear life on the two minute ride there (my balance is getting a lot better), it was a lot nicer than attempting to navigate where we were going from Sanj's phone.
We were directed nicely through the standby line because we had our friends wait in line earlier in the day--it was such a nice way to go to an event, though watching people wait in line to get in was slightly difficult. But there are always two sides of each event. We walked and talked and soon we were in our seats--we were in the first tier, Row A. A good view of the middle of the stage, but the podium was off to the side, closer to us, so we had to lean out in order to see what was going on.

There were several introductions and reflections of Martin Luther King Jr. I enjoyed all of them, but they seemed repetitive after a couple of them. Before the event officially started, Andrea Roane, who had a voice for radio, and a face for television (this was obvious; she was a news anchor from WUSA Channel 9) came forward and read a nice beautiful prayer, with blessing for the dreams that Martin Luther King, Jr. had for the world, prayer for Haiti now, and also (this was the funny part) blessing for those who endorsed. Including Target, and a bank of some sort. From our seats, we could see a presidential seal under a certain section of the balcony, and Fets predicted that it was going to be where the Obamas were going to sit. And sure enough, fashionably late, we saw Michelle and their two daughters come and sit down halfway through the first long speech.
There was an amazing choir. It was large, and loud--called the Let Freedom Ring Choir, and boy, did they let it ring. There were some great vocalists. Although that choir at Plymouth yesterday had quite the pipes as well.. The music was written by the music director, a minister of music for the Metropolitan Baptist Church, Nolan Williams, Jr. The song he wrote was called, "I am the Dream", honoring MLK, but also addressing that we are the difference and we can be the change (but as Jess sincerely pointed out, (and the thought being at the back of my head as well) the song could just be about Obama making it to the presidency.)

President Obama did make an appearance. He made some statements about MLK, and also gave the "Legacy of a Dream Award" to Dikembe Mutombo, for his work with the Dikembe Mutombo Foundation Inc, in bringing improvement to the health, education, and quality of life to the Congo, his birth home. It was a really awesome moment, as Mr. President was hugged by a long slender man, with a beastly suit that surpassed all other suits, and hugged with a tenderness that could easily become a swift shot and a swish of the net. His speech, following the awarding of the award, was very hard to understand. Someone in our group said that men from that area of Africa have very low, gravely tones of voice. He reminded me of a very tall and slender Louis Armstrong, and as Marie has said before, I wanted to tell him to clear his throat, although that would do no good--it's the person he is, as to be expected and accepted.
Then the moment we'd all been waiting for began! India Arie came onstage and had some amazing music. Her soul and emotion in what she sang reminded me of someone who writes from her soul (^<^), and I enjoyed her selflessness in the way she addressed everyone she was singing with--her backup singers (who were also completely amazing), the Israeli artist, and French artist who she sang duets with, and the choir additions to her songs. Not only was her demeanor exquisite, but her outfits were amazing as well--she wore a black dress with an orange wrap, and a bright pink and teal under skirt, so when she spinned, you could see beautiful color! And her second outfit was bright! Fresh blues, pinks, and greens, and she sported a set of brightly shaded butterfly wings for the second half. Her song choices hit home and heart. "Good Men" "Strength, Courage, and Wisdom" and so many more! I love her!
After the show was over, we were heading out, taking our time, knowing that traffic and shuttles would be full and lines would be long no matter when we left, so some of us went to the bathroom and some of us went downstairs, and saw Dikembe leaving. It turns out, Fetsum's childhood hero is Dikembe Mutombo, so he waited for the traffic to die down, until it was only Dikembe's family around us--talk about some tall Africans. Fets tried several times to get a picture with him, but they wouldn't let him. Several times. But he got to shake his hand, and then seemed to be satisfied. He had the look of pure bliss, like a child when they get their favorite candy bar for free; Fets was on cloud nine.
We rode back to the metro on the shuttle, and although I stood again this time, it was a great ride back. There were two blind people in the back seat with their seeing eye dogs. Jess and Jasmine asked the first questions, about the dogs, and we learned the names of the dogs, but not the people... It was really awesome to be able to converse with random strangers in the event of connection through this evening event. They said that they almost didn't make it in to the concert hall--they didn't have the tickets, but someone gave them some, and so they got to see it. They didn't know that the Obamas were going to be there--in fact, not a whole lot of people did, there was a general gasp of surprise when the First Lady was announced as a guest and Obama was announced to present the award to Dikembe.
I was very happy to have met them. Our ride home on the metro consisted of matching animals to some of the people in the house, which didn't get far, and ran off on a tangent of the Lion King "Circle of Life", by me and Jess.
Everyone was starving by the time we got back to the house, and food was made and eaten. (Can you say Gourmet Oatmeal, anyone?) It seems that there are so many different perspectives in the house. Some people have no problem bending rules, as long as respect is taken in every other sense, and some can't even pass the idea of going beyond any set of rules. I'm an observer of the rules, but I also don't object to the people who bend the rules with moderation. To each his own, of course. We can agree to disagree, and it's a learning experience for all of us.
I watched the Hangover. Listening to the multitude of repetitions of the F-word and the nudity of the movie at such a late hour didn't have a very large effect on me, as I stated to Fetsum--you like the movie more the later it gets. Yeah it was funny, but yeah it's a waste of time, and degrading to any sane person's morals. But you get what you take. Some of it was funny.
My mom talked to me about starting to have a regular sleep schedule...
Talk to me about that later...

Sunday Festivities.

This morning, as promised, Doug, our seminar leader this semester brought a bagful of bagels for us to eat for breakfast, before we headed off to church together as a house. I personally had half a bagel, an egg, and a cup of hot chocolate that I made with the only Splenda in the house. (... I know, now I have to start the entire thing over again. But there's no more temptation now, so I helped myself be consuming it, right? Not. I'm still addicted.) We attended the Plymouth United Church of Christ, for the 11:00 service (college students stay up until 1:00 in the morning even if they are tired by nine. I am a perfect example of this). The church was not very full for the service, although the building looked to hold five to six hundred people, there looked to be about one hundred there. It was a two hour service, and I enjoyed it immensely. The choir was in red robes with black specific streaks, and when they sang together, their voices carried very far. There were some high sopranos in that choir, dang, singin' the descant like my mom, but with Marie's opera lungs... :D
The sermon was about an hour long. I only knew that because Jasmine checked her phone right before the sermon began. It was 12:10 at that point. It was a two hour service, and with several special musics, which I loved, and an invitation to accept Jesus into one's heart.  The youth of the church came in, as part of the service, carrying signs that said things like "End Racism now" and "End the war now" and then each of them read a little monologue pertaining to their signs. It was a great example of ways that the church needs to make itself known in some aspects of politics. There were some very good speakers in their youth group. They're going to go far in life.
They had a greeting time, in which everyone could greet everyone. That made me really happy. At West Clinton, they don't give very much time to greet people, neither did they at Aurora (although I felt like there was more when I was at AMC).
We got back from church around one, and then proceeded to make lunch, and because no one thought of fixing and forgetting anything, we did a grilled cheese thing, with lots of random leftovers.  I personally mixed up a quart-sized salad that got some raised eyebrows. I keep forgetting that my portion size for vegetables that is normal is twice the size that most people would even think about eating... I ate four stalks of celery as a snack this afternoon... When you cut it up it looks like less. Really.
Half the house went grocery shopping, Christa and Corrie went to do their neighborhood mapping, though the rain kept falling, and I stayed home, snacked, watched Jess make bread, and "worked on some stuff". Which is also known as getting a new high score on the Facebook Tetris. I'm almost #16!! :P. Nowhere near Ryan at #1 though. He's such a beast. And Janelle, I have no idea how on earth she got that high of a score... I also wrote a journal for this Wednesday. It's rather unfinished, because I have to actually go to something this Monday that I wanted to write about in my journal entry.
The assignment load for this semester is NOT bad. We have class once a week, Wednesdays from 1:00 to 4:30. We have to email Doug two journal entries before that point every week, and then there are two or three big projects in the two sections of the seminar--which are Urban Anthropology (which is what the Neighborhood mapping came in), and Faith and Urban Community (which is one of the reasons we went to the church today). I'm excited about visiting different churches, and deciding what to do my research projects on.
When the shoppers got back, Lindsay told me what happened to the box of lids and cutting boards that had previously resided in the house car. They needed space for the groceries, so they took it out. We were going to give it away anyway, but we forgot and then forgot that it was in there. So when they got to the grocery store, they sent Fets, who was in a yellow shirt and a yellow jacket, to put the box by the dumpster behind Giant. Lindsay quickly made Fets turn his jacket inside out so that he wouldn't be obvious in the security cameras. But the point of the story is, put the box of trash beside the dumpster after you go into the grocery store, not after. Because when wearing a yellow jacket, you stand out like a banana. (Don't know where I was going with that.) And you don't want to stand out like a banana.
We had Peanut Butter Spaghetti and Garlic Bread for Supper. Which sounds gross, unless you look at it from a Pad Thai perspective, It was a great meal and it was delicious. It's the cheap version of that, for when you can't afford rice noodles. I was legitimately working on my write up for the neighborhood earlier while they were chopping up things, and they were listening to Pandora. All of a sudden, "See You Again" came on, and I must have tensed up, because Corrie, sitting next to me on the couch, laughed when I asked Fets in a slightly urgent way to go to the next song. When it was taking too long, because Fets' hands were covered in water, I ran over there and pressed fast forward before the chorus started. All I can say is Miley Cyrus music makes me kinda nauseous, almost like the feeling you get in your stomach when you know you're in trouble, and your parents are about to punish you, but you aren't sure what they are going to punish you with. Yeah. Not a good feeling.
Corrie declared the Peanut Butter Spaghetti a comfort food, and Bryan said it was the best meal we'd had so far, although I did really enjoy the Vegetarian Chili a lot, and the Beef (Bean for me) Enchiladas last night were also pretty pristine. I think the recipes will get a lot better because we are making what we want, and what we know how to make, and that makes a big difference. It's really fun living in such an open environment.
So something I've noticed is the political and religious differentiation within the house. There are some definite republicans and some definite democrats. There are some definite conservatives, and some definite liberals. This is very noticeable. I am surprised how much it comes up, but I guess as we all live together it finally comes up in conversation. With each interaction, when something like politics come up in church, it gets discussed at home, although I don't mind the subject, because it makes it relevant and the church has politics in itself, other people find that politics and church shouldn't be mixed. Which makes sense in a lot of ways as well. This is because in the Scriptures, some people think that we should let God rule. I think this is a great idea and option, but there isn't any option that is obvious to give the government back to God. Humans love power too much to be able to embrace the idea of letting God take over the power which was His to begin with. So my present statement is that because we don't let God be a part of the politics, we have to mix church and politics, at least to the point of interaction, and action.
Right now, I'm reclined on a couch in the living area. Sanj is working on his Mac, which probably has something that has to do with Facebook. Bryan, Jess, Fets, and Christa are playing Yuker (which I am still confused about how to play... so I decided not to play this time). Yay for loud laughing friends. Andrew is working on his computer as well, however, at the table right next to the Yukerites, and is offering the music choice for the night. Corrie is over on the corner couch with some serious typing spasms going on. :)

Minority, anyone?

Today we had the opportunity to explore two opposing neighborhoods in the city. Everyone had a partner, and we had to explore and map out a block of a residential area and describe it in written word, then compare and contrast the two neighborhoods. I had some "sort-of" issues with this project that didn't really seem like problems--they seemed more like annoyances. The idea of writing down things about people's homes and observing and describing things about the people, our interactions, and their things feels like snooping to me. But it was an assignment--I didn't really have an option. It seems pretty strange to write things down when you are supposed to be shopping or selling.
Fets and I went to Ivy City via bus, as also required by the assignment--to ride a good distance of our transportation on the bus. While riding the bus, I also discovered I like more than the Metro, not only because it is cheaper, but because you see the city while riding around. And there is a bus that goes straight from Tenleytown to Brookland, so that was beneficial.
We arrive around noon, and we walked around a group of townhouses, realizing that although it was a good example of the residential area, it would take a long time to write down notes for every town house--there was  a new one every twenty feet. Yet the details still remain figured in my mind. There were nice town houses, with well kept patches of lawn. There were townhouses with messes in their front yard. There were some with mulch, and some with flower beds, there were some with over grown decorational plants, and some with piles of dirt. There were townhouses with roof decks, and some with well-painted outer walls. Some were in desperate need of a new paint job. On the block we observed, there were two empty, abandoned, townhouse that were boarded up. We looked at the signs posted on the door, and it seemed that they refused to clean up their front yard area, and perhaps the inside looked similar. We walked around the back alley and looked at the townhouses from behind. There were some with decks and garages that took up the entire backyard, which made me sad. Don't these people need green in their lives? Not just plants for decoration? We proceeded onward, asking a lady for directions to the Capital City Market, which she declared she didn't know where it was, which sounded bad. But she looked at the address, gave us directions, and we headed off in the direction of Burger King, and 3rd.
Once we got to fourth, we saw it--bunches and bunches of random markets, selling meats of all kinds--cowskin, oxtail, beef tripe, among regular meats. There were Carribbean markets, Oriental, Chinese, and Asian Markets (not sure how to distinguish between these), a farmer's market, and everything. We saw all kinds of people. Some homeless, some shoppers, some workers, it was a site to see. Fetsum said that it reminded him of the Indonesian Markets that he went to when he was in Indonesia with the SALT program. If I had been in a car, it would have been really chaotic.
We kept walking, and food stores started becoming merchandise stores--cell phones, accessories, anything you could ever want. We had entered the Funky Fleamarket. It was run by African Americans, and bought by African Americans. We were given statistics for the area, and it said that it was 92% African Americans, next is a small 3% of white people, and then there was less Hispanic and other ethinicities. There was a greater ratio of Hispanic, Asian, and Middle Eastern people in the market than the stats mapped out. What I didn't realize it until we left, though, was that I was the only white girl in the market. Not only that, but I was the only white girl writing down things about the market, instead of shopping. It was like I was a snitch, undercover (but badly done), making notes of possible stolen goods. Which was not happenin'. We were freaking mappin' out our block.
We past this one woman's block, who had jewelry, and other things and such, and came up to me, while talking on her cell phone, and asked me what I was doing, and I told her it was an assignment for school--to map out a block with anthropological reasoning. She walked away, and I thought we were okay, until another man came up to us, he was the manager of the place and asked us the same question. We said the same thing, he gave us his card, and was rather polite to us, but he also said that we needed to inform all the vendors of what we were doing, so he told us to go over to the DJ who was playing music, and ask him to make an announcement that we were doing it for school.

I'm white. Caucasian, whatever you want to call it. But it doesn't matter to me. I love people the same. There is appeal in every type of person, skin color unrelated. I'm an outgoing person, thus, whoever I'm around, whenever I'm around them, I just want to get to know them, find a connection with them. But I am met with racism, though slight, in this city. Though my skin could be green and purple tye-dyed nad I wouldn't care, because of the way that I look to the neighborhood I'm in, I'm a stereotype. I'm the uppity white girl up to no good in this market.

At that point, I was so discouraged by this stereotype that I'd been labeled by that Fets and I decided to leave. That was the first time I ever wished I was a black girl. Which was when I realized that I had been the only white girl there. Now I know what it feels like to be a minority. And to be stereotyped. And it doesn't feel good.
We walked out the market and across the street to the Gallaudet University, which was on our list to visit while we were in the neighborhood. There was a parking garage in between the two things, and as we walked past it, we were enveloped in silence, as there was a peace about this place. There were no students on campus, but we looked at a couple of the buildings, and soon figured out why we had never heard of the Gallaudet University. It's a School for the Deaf, Mute, and those Hard of Hearing. It threw me off, but I thought it was way awesome, there are teachers who teach and give classes with sign language. I find it completely awesome. The only problem was that Fets and I were becoming very quickly paranoid to the idea of security coming up to us and asking us what we were doing. (Which they didn't) We walked back to the Metro and got on the Red Line to Tenleytown. There were only a few people on the platform to the metro, and there was this guy singing his heart out to some Jackson 5. It was so bad, I couldn't stop smiling, partly because of the great passion you could hear in his voice.
We rode to Tenleytown and then got off, took notes of the residential neighborhood, and left on the H4 bus with out anymore drama. The neighborhood was much more welcoming to children--there were lawns and space for sports. There was also less traffic on the road, and there were bigger houses for families. Some of them were nicer than others. Now I'm relaxing in my room. Thinking about sleep, real life hardships like finances, as I just received a letter from my mother along with my social security card. Unless I become famous for writing an astonishing blog or something, I am going to need more experience and a degree of some sort to support myself in the future. And I have no idea what I want to be doing with this life of mine. and usually, one has to have a degree in something they at least are interested in to find a job that they are interested in, and being impatient kind of screws you over.
So yep.
That's where I am.

Dumpster Diving and Contra dancing

My Friday was hopelessly boring. Having no internship meant that I had a night before to stay up for no reason, a morning after to sleep in, and time to kill. Did I want to kill it, or what?
I woke up several times, but convinced myself to go back to sleep, then finally got up at ten thirty, and I read the paper, realized there were cool pictures in the paper, took the old papers out of the recycling bin, searched through them for good pictures, cut out the good pictures, rinse, spin, repeat. Andrew was home as well, he didn't have his internship either, and he made the grocery list on Excel, cleaned the basement, and other random parts of the house while we were just hanging. At one point, he went upstairs, grabbed his hoodie, and declared that he was going out. Never left. It's hard to decide what to do if you aren't comfortable with the neighborhood.
Around twelve I got a text from Lindsay, who is our petty cash manager, telling me that if I get the list of kitchen supplies that we need ready, we can get it okayed by Kim and then get it when we got grocery shopping. I had no idea where to start, so I took everything out of its spot and put it on the counters, island, and table. Once I got to the lid-to-pot stage, I snagged a very willing Andrew to help sort. There ended up being seven lids that didn't have pots. What the heck?
There were also countless appliances that I had no idea we had, nor thought that the house would ever need--my favorite was the cappiccino maker, but we also had an electric wok, a coffee grinder, and so much more! Once we got through what we needed and what we didn't need, the duty was putting it back into the cabinets. The pots which were on top of the fridge were located into a cabinet with the level of shelf moved. Yay for no more ugly storage!
The box of extra lids, and excess cutting boards (unless the entire house is willing to cut up whatever is being made into dinner, I don't think there will ever be a need for seven cutting boards...), and whatever else excess that made no sense to be left around was rounded up into a big box and put in the back of the house car, for delivery to the intentional community or the thrift store.
After that process, which took a couple hours, Emily and I somehow convinced Andrew to come Contra dancing. The idea that it was basic pulled him in; even though I knew the original reason for him coming was to go dumpster diving. Emily described it as a controlled walk, and though I'd never been, helped with the mini lesson that insued at Mai Tri (an intentional Community; pronounced "My Tree"). Andrew, Emily, and I ate supper at the intentional community house. That was a great experience in itself. They had a tomato quinoa (which I've learned pronounced KWIN OH a, and Emily pronounces KWEEN i WA), some delicious banana muffins, and this cheese pizza that parts of it I was unsure of. The meal was scrumptious nonetheless, and the presence of nutritional yeast at the table, and the absence of a meaty main dish gave away the vegetarianism at the table.
I talked with them about my internship and peace studies, as uninformed as I am, and one of the younger guys wanted to hear about my experience after it was over, as he was working on lobbying that educators be required to teach peace studies in secondary school.
The contra dancing lesson was very informing--it's similar to square dancing, and eye contact is a big part of it, and as Ryan (or Bryan) described, it's a way "to bring touch back into our lives."
Then we drove back to Emily's house, met her roommate Kendra, who Emily invited to contra dancing, who came, and was very nice and fun. While at their house, I learned that Emily and her roommates are all pianists (! :D) and have a grand piano in the basement, which I located and played (although we could not locate and turn on the light switch) while we were waiting for Emily to change.
We drove over to the place where the contra dancing was located. It was in an old old amusement park, called Glen Echo, in the ballroom. We arrived a little late, paid our way, and I got a pin that said, "I'm a New Dancer." We watched for the first dance, then hopped right in. My first partner's name was Tom, as his name-pin said, and he helped me through the first song. It was a lot of fun. I had so many partners, but I suppose everyone does in contra dancing. I can almost remember all their names, but not quite. After Tom, there were several doubles of the people I danced with: Steve, Don #1, Don #2, another Tom, I danced with two Davids, and I don't remember many of my other partner's names. It was great fun. The dance that I didn't get the most was the one that ensued directly after the halftime break. I had been talking to this guy named David who had gone to Oberlin Conservatory for the recorder (I didn't know anyone learned to play the recorder after elementary school--needless to say, there wasn't much competition, and so I asked him to dance, but I just couldn't get the dance.
I accidently partnered up with some creeps who wanted to pull me really close. Oh well, you live and you learn. Besides, before we started, Emily and Ryan reminded us that you always have the choice to pull back. And so I did, with dignity. Although the guy never did get it. And dancing with the creeps always alerts you to the gentlemen of the dance, who I wanted to dance with instead.

After contra dancing, we were all warm, then cold with our sweat, as it is still close to freezing outside, though warming up. We sat around waiting for the last dance to end (which was a waltz, and not as many people participated in the waltz (although I did once, and an older man showed me how to waltz), then we left and drove over the Trader Joe's, near Bethesda, and went straight for the dumpsters!! I was really excited about this. I still am and totally want to go again! Even though the sight and smell of sour cream kinda makes me want to barf (there were some containers of it that were busted open in one of the  bags I was looking through, got all over my hands) We found some awesome stuff! Some still-cold 96/4 lean ground beef, some bread, bagels, a plethera of sliced apples, some fiesta dip, and my favorite--a multitude of muffins! I climbed right into the dumpster, and got these things. On the way out of the dumpster, I lost my center of gravity... and fell right back in. But got out without any worry. Andrew and I drove back to the house, put the food in the fridge, and went to bed.
I had a muffin and some yogurt for breakfast this morning.

Day One. Of whatever I'm beginning.

In the event of spontaneous shopping for the first week of house living, the shoppers unknowingly (or perhaps knowingly) bought four bunches of celery. I just realized this. And also realized that, although we've already plowed through several bags of baby carrots, we've barely made it through one bunch of celery. So I guess I know what I'm going to be snacking on for the next few days.

I woke up at eight, like I have been for the past few days. Got ready like normal, wore a nice shirt and some jeans, and headed out the house toward the metro. As I was walking, I heard Marty's voice in my head, telling me to be open with my neighbors, and having an observation circle. So the entire, sunny, beautiful walk to the metro, I was seeing people and saying hello. Almost everyone says, "How are you?" with their "Good Morning," although it's rhetorical. I got one "Hey Beautiful." According to Corrie, who is working at the Rape and Crisis Center for Women, if it makes you feel good, it's not harrassment, but I do think that there is a line. Jasmine told me to introduce myself next time, be like, "It's Grace, but you were close!" and Jess told me to respond, "Hey Handsome." I've got a lot of tricks up my sleeve.
I got on the metro with no worry, and read "Animal, Vegetable, Mineral" until Tenleytown. It took a little longer than I expected (which I will remember for the future trips). Then I arrived, signed in, threw my coat and my bag through the security stuff, and got my name tag. Then I walked up the stairs and tried to locate room 207, and the first 207 I saw was an office, so I quickly resorted to asking an adult watching the hallways, and he pointed me in the right direction. Then I saw the class that I shadowed in earlier in the semester. Nobody really said anything to me, but I think they recognized me to a point. They had their school paper which they were reading, and I glanced through it, and enjoyed the articles--they were really well written. It was a better paper than Streetsboro's. And Streetsboro won awards.
The class didn't really do anything. They were ending their semester and so they did course evaluations, and then there were two girls that graduated but took a semester off came and spoke about their experiences during their time away from America. One girl went to India for three months and told about what she did there, learning yoga and mediation, going on a ten day trek on the Himalayas, and about the spicy food, and the sickness that the people she went with got. The irony is that she knows someone at EMU. They went to camp together.
The other girl talked about her experience in Peru with teaching English in a home for sexually assaulted teenagers and working at a Daycare which had no outside. It was good to hear her story and also to see that not everyone has their future planned out and are taking breaks from school.
Last night Lindsay reminded me that even though my internship is out of the box, there are still people who are going to want to hire me because I did an internship with Colman McCarthy. I'm happy with that thought, but I definitely want to be able to do things.
Because today was a shadowing experience, I wonder if the rest of the days are going to be like this. Maybe I can convince Colman to let me to a little teaching with some of the things that I am well-informed of, and see what these students think.
Today in class, while they were looking at the paper, there was a crossword puzzle with an answer that was Lady Gaga. One of the guys in the back row asked me what I thought of her, and I basically said that it was a love-hate relationship, I love the way she writes songs, and the originality and musicality, but I hate the costumes, and that her music is so sexual. Some of the guys were talking about how she was a hermaphrodite, which as far as I know is a rumor. I think she's a woman, just because she's bisexual doesn't mean she's a hermaphrodite. One of them asked me if I thought she was good looking, and I said that with out all the makeup and the costumes, I thought she was.
Anyway, it's really kind of awesome that even though we are in DC, there are still connections to people from EMU that I wouldn't expect, like Amanda, who went to India, knowing Amanda Grace from EMU. I rode the metro back, got to Brookland around 12:00, and walked back to the house with my observation circle expanding as I went. It's hilarious, but important at the same time. I can't be like a tourist who listens to their iPod everywhere and gets mugged because they weren't paying attention.
So Jess, Jas and I went running on the National mall. Which is your Capitol, Washington Monument, big lawn and pool (but not for swimming) area. Which is not a short distance. First, we ran to the Metro, at Jess' fast pace, which is not my fast pace. It is, in fact, my "bookin' it" pace. But I kept up pretty well to the Metro. We got off at Judiciary Square, which was about 3rd or 4th St NW, and ran to First, and started seeing recognizable things, like the Capitol, and so we ran to that. My pace was still a lot slower than the one that they chose, and I was realizing that not running over break was catching up with me, but I tried really hard to keep a pace that wasn't too far behind them, and not stop and walk for too long, or too many times. But inevitably, I was feeling exhausted, and my lungs were not very happy with me (and still aren't, I'm coughing up the gunk that has been building up from my lack of running days again), I told them I wanted to find a Metro to go back to the house. So Jess and Jas decided that we should run me to the Metro. Still at their pace, but I didn't stop to walk at all this time (there were just a lot of intersections that we had to wait to cross :). ) We found one--an Orange Line Smithsonian, and I was on my way. It was easy to find my way from there, but I felt a bit inadequate in a crowded car being sweaty, redfaced, and alone. When I got off at Brookland, I accidently stepped on someone's foot when I was leaning back to let another man pass through, and he rudely retorted, "Excuse you." Not my favorite D.C. resident. But maybe we'll someday be best friends. Ha. Ha. I was chilly so I ran back to the house from the Metro, at Grace fast pace, and stopped when I wanted to (right before I crossed the road to the house, but who is counting?). I told Sanjay when he let me in, and asked how my run was that I need to run more, and I know I'm not used to the hills and the sidewalks of D.C., but I also said that I need to run more. Corrie, our own Cross-Country champ, is training for a marathon at some point this spring, and likes to sprint up hills, and at the end of a run. Me, though, I run for fun, and I wasn't having any fun on the mall today, I just kept thinking about how I couldn't do it, and how out of shape my lungs were. Oh how I miss running with Ellie on the track at EMU at our own pace. It was so great to be able to get together with her over break though, even though we didn't run, we went to the zoo, which was a blastus.
So as probably only two people know, aka my parents, I have a Splenda addiction. Ever since I discovered it's awesome calorielessness when I started Weight-Watchers in 7th grade, I've been including it into my daily life--diet pop, no sugar added ice cream, in various recipes that I like to make, in my morning oatmeal, in my homemade hot chocolate--you know the drill. But partially because I'm trying to save money, and partially because I forgot it in the hurry of leaving for EMU last Friday, I decided to quit using it. Spending money on soft drinks is completely pointless, especially if there are wholesome beverages like milk, tea, coffee, juice (which for some reason I still shy away from even though the kind we have is 100% juice pulp included), and of course, water! (and most of these are free when you have a house budget that includes them!). So I'm quitting diet soda. (Yay me! I'm being mature and finding a balance with my drinking problems!) Nobody except Bryan (which is fine for Bryan) drinks it anyway, and he walks to the gas station for it. And I'm still having oatmeal in the morning, but sweetening it with fruit (when it's around, we eat fruit like it's the only thing in the house), and honey. And I had a cup of hot chocolate the first night we were here, but only a cup, 100% milk (sometimes I just use water for less calories... I have problems), with a tablespoon of cocoa powder, and a teaspoon of sugar was tasty enough. So today, I decided that I wanted to make a coffee frappiccino. Fail. I cheaply added only two teaspoons of sugar to it, a half cup of whole milk (The 1% was in the back of the fridge), four ice cubes, and like twelve ounces of coffee that was left in the pot from this morning (again, I'm not going to let someone pour it down the drain tomorrow when they make coffee in the morning.) The milk fluffed pretty well, but it was pretty un-frappiccino-like, and bitter to boot. But I still drank it. Because I'm stubborn, and I think that that much sugar should suffice. Obviously I'm not willing to put sugar into my body. My problem is that I know that if we had Splenda in the house, I would use it, and use it a lot. And I don't have a problem with drinking diet soda if I have the option. Zach has consistently tried to convince me that the artificial sweeteners can cause seizures and cancer, and other bad things, but of course I think I'm invincible and can't be beat... But I think that honey is better for you than cane sugar. And since I'm on this vegetarian kick maybe I'll just be healthy and cool.
But I think that the yogurt I included in my lunch had aspartame... like I said, if there's an option, I'll take it. I'll get better.
Lindsay and Andrew came back from registration at UDC with stories of issues and waiting forEVER for admitting and registering for classes. Talk about chaos. They gave them a pack of free stuff--with an expired calling card (which Lindsay would have given to me), some redeye reducer eyedrops, and condoms. So a discussion on whether EMU should have free condoms in the health center soon ensued.

The Vegetarian Chili and Cornbread for supper tonight, was AMAZING. We had it over rice. Ever done that? It made it even better! Never had it like that before.
We went to the Rec Center to play Volleyball with the locals tonight. I had a blast--and there were some people who came to play soccer afterward, and I asked them when their league would restart again--in March--so I have a chance to play! I'm really excited about that. Our volleyball games went well, despite my extreme suffering--I have the disease of overcompetitism... or over-aggression...

I have nothing to do tomorrow. Next week's internship work is Monday and Wednesday--almost nothing because the high schools are between semesters.

Ready, Set....(Almost time for Internships!!)

We had our last day of orientation today. Tomorrow internships start, and the traveling solo begins yet again. Lucky for me, I only have to go to one of the two schools I'll be working at tomorrow, and of these, the one that is later in the day. Then I will return back to the house and probably chill, as everyone's internships are scattered throughout the day, and we don't quite have a handle on how it's all going to work.
Today we talked about internships and assigned jobs for around the house. It was kind of difficult to find relevance in the information that Kim said about the internships--like overdressing the first day, asking to have weekly meetings with our supervisor, and even the first project that we have to do for our internships--a poster with out expectations within the internships, and also our personal goals. There was a poster on the wall behind us from someone who interned at Wooly Mammoth Theater, but my internship is so different from theirs that I'm not sure how much information I can take from my internship. As far as I know, with my own internship, I am going to be working in schools. And I'm going to be participating in discussion. and I guess I'll be learning of more roles after that. But it's still hard for me to be able to do the exact same poster type thing as everyone else.
So then we decided on the house jobs. The Nelson Good house (which is what this house is called), is a group home like an intentional community. So everyone has roles and committees so that we can keep the house from falling apart. There are Drivers, Shoppers, Watchmen, Postal Person, Maintenance, and so many other things!
One job that I was assigned for was to be the Kitchen Manager, which makes the list for groceries (and we get to go shopping for things that we need in the kitchen this semester). I'm also the Blog Writer for the group--keeping those connections with EMU, and also the Photographer. Just because I'm keeping the connections to EMU, I get to plan the Chapel that's in February.
Then we had Martie Langelman as our guest speaker after lunch. We had a reading from "Back Off", a book that she wrote about sexual harassment.  It was enduring for the guys during the seminar, as she used them as props/ "muggers/rapists" examples, but we all got a kick out of it, and I think we all learned a lot. She told some VERY lively stories, and we could all tell that she had lived in the city all her life.
Because the oven was broken, we had to switch the menu around and we grilled for supper.
I ate vegetarian again. I just decided to do that because there are already two vegetarians in the house, and I figured that if we had a third of the people in the house to be vegetarian then it would be reasonable to have myself be a vegetarian. So now I'm working on seeing if this is something that I can do or not. I think I can. But I'll probably eat meat if we go to a ethnic restaurant.
This evening we had a great meal. Then we just hung out. We watched the Pilot episode of Arrested Development.
I got to talk to Anna before she left for Guatemala.
Going to bed soon.

The "Youngsters"--a group up and coming!

This day started out a bit better. Lindsay, still adjusting to the gas stove (I guess she's never used one before this), made scrambled eggs for everyone for breakfast (although I was rejoicing the return of Old fashioned rolled oats and natural peanut butter into my life, and had peanut butter and banana in oatmeal, and a cup of milk for breakfast.) We started on the first class of the day right away, and it was sort of hilarious how no one wanted to walk all the way downstairs... but when we got there, Emily was teaching, and we did group life stuff (a lot more exciting than the explaining of the handbook, which followed). We separated into groups of two or three, and acted out some scenarios of issues that had happened in the house in the past. It was hilarious--my group was Jess, Fets (Fetsum), and myself, and Fets had just woken up right as we started, and was in his pajamas. The first scene we had to act out was someone forgetting to do their chore for the week, and his first line was delivered with such a lack of the attitude needed that it caught me off guard, it was hilarious. Other issues that our group went over were coming in late and loud, having annoying habits, and having prayer before we eat. It was so fun. We did a tour of all our rooms (for Emily's benefit), and then we did a house scavenger hunt, which was informing in a rather thorough, but quick way. After that was the monotonous handbook, although I enjoyed reading it, going over the information was repetitive..
We had a sandwich lunch, and then we headed out for our neighborhood scavenger hunt. My fellow hunter was Lindsay, and we got to discuss a lot--she asked me questions, and within my answers, I tended to elaborate a lot. We explored the area behind our house in our neighborhood--there's a friary and the Providence Hospital is back there--and we went to a Diner on 12th Street to see what they served for breakfast. We found out that the average house was (or could be) close to $500,000. We stopped at the Rec Center for a look around, and then we headed toward the Fransiscan Monastery to end our trip. We arrived, looked throught the gift shop, and I got kind of excited about the tour--there were catacombs, and the monastery is modeled after the Hagia Sophia! Then Lindsay and I realized that we forgot to visit one thing--the Icon Shop. I had no idea what kind of "icons" we'd be seeing, but as we walked down the two blocks to get there, it was pretty obvious that it was probably going to have something to do with Catholics. That's the kind of icons that were there--the pictures of Early Christian paintings of saints for Catholics to pray to. They pray to certain saints for certain things, and certain prayers for certain things. (One of the things I dislike about Catholics, that they pray to saints, but they are people too, and I accept that over what they pray for) Anyway, we went back to the Monastery, and started the tour. It was long and we were tired, but it was still heavily and beautifully decorated. We got to go through the entire monastery, which was a replica of a church in Jerusalem. Even the catacombs are a replica, and the stone wall was definitely a wallpaper of a sort. But there were still statues, and awesome mosaics, and sculptures, and domes (like Hagia Sophia). There were bones of two people there. Saint Innocent, who was a child that was martyred in the Early Christian time, and also some of the bones (his skull, for some reason, is in Rome) of another Dude with a very interesting name which I do not know. It was great when we got to walk back to the house together, and then start to relax again. We told Stories of Self--I told the story of how I wrote a song to introduce Ryan at the beginning of the year for Honors, then got my tongue pierced, and preformed it anyway. I talked about how I still thought it went well, but then how later in the semester some of the other Honors students told me that they couldn't understand anything I was singing. I was really glad that Jess shared why she was so into preventing EMU from investing in things that supported the war in Israel.
We had some amazing taco salad for supper, and then Lindsay decided that the entire house should got to the Rec Center to play volleyball. I was all for it, but I couldn't find the form that proved my residence in DC (which gets you free admission, because insurance covers it). I didn't ever find, it but still went along to play, and they didn't end up asking for it anyway.
When we got to the courts, there were already people playing. We came in, and Fets just started playing--he rotated into one of the teams already on the courts. We came in as the rest of the group slightly after him, and Tanya, a teammate from one of the two teams playing, came up to us, and asked us if we were going to play, and told us that it was an 18 and older playing game, but that since we came, we'd be allowed to play. I'm the only one in our group that is under 20, so they weren't sure how to take that. Our first two games were rough. We lost both pretty quickly, and so Lindsay called for a "practice". We volleyed in a circle, and practiced calling for the ball. Soon, we were getting confident and better, and when we started our second round of games, we had a lot more confidence, and though some funny things happened (like me hitting the ball backwards, under the net), we did score some points and get some good volleys going. After that we started getting involved in between our games, and I was a line judge. We continued playing until nine. By then, we were dubbed "the Youngsters" and we'd won some games. Andrew had been yelled at to be aggressive by the lady keeping score, and she almost hit him (jokingly) because he wasn't quite being aggressive enough. It was pretty hilarious. There was some good funny stuff. It was so fun, and we are planning on going back as a group on Thursday as well.
When we got back, Jess and I randomly decided to jam a little bit, and make sure that we play more and sing more. She's great harmony.
I'm excited about what's ahead, though a little nervous for my internship. In honesty, I'm kind of worried that I'm going to have to worry about money. Ugh. I hate that.
We assign jobs tomorrow! I'm looking forward to possibly shopping, and I think I want to have the two jobs of being the Blog Keeper and the Photographer.

Exploration (at the) Metro Station!

The day started out with a slightly awkward breakfast, as we all know each other, but we aren't familiar with each other. It wasn't that we ate breakfast as a group around the table, but there were enough people that you know you should say something, so you do, and it's awkward. But then we all headed out on our scavenger hunts. 

My partner Andrew and I were group 5, and we were the first to leave the house. They said leave at nine, so we left at nine. After an interesting episode with the Smartcards and farecards, we were on our way around the metro. Our first stop on the hunt was to go to the Smithsonian Portrait Gallery. Fortunately for us, everything that was on our hunt was easily located near a metro station, so we did not have to take the bus. We arrived at the Smithsonian on time with our schedule at ten, only to find that the museum didn't open until 11:30. I spotted the International Spy Museum across the street, and had thought we'd found a detour for an hour and a half when we were allowed in, until we found out the admission fee was $18 per adult. That wasn't happening. So we walked back to the Metro, got back on and headed toward the Zoo. 

Andrew insisted that we take the bus the half-mile to the Zoo from the station, but I started walking, and there was no bus in sight, so he was obligated to walk with me. The trip to the zoo was informing, as I now know the zoo opens at 6:00 in the morning so that people can come run there. I also enjoyed seeing the pandas, and taking pictures of several of the animals. (Unfortunately for me, somewhere in between the connection of the computer with my camera, all the pictures were lost from DC so far. :( So sad.) Around eleven thirty, we decided to head to our next stop, and went back to the Metro. We had to transfer trains, which I learned is not as intimidating as it seems, you just have to be aware of the signs, and know exactly which direction you are going in.

We arrived at the Eastern Market station around twelve. But once we walked over to the oldest market in the city, it was inevitable, via the signs, that they were closed on Mondays! So our stomachs still whining about the lack of nutrients (I was showing it a lot more in the heaviness of my eyelids), we walked back toward the metro, and stopped at Marvelous Market instead. It was a relief to find a market that looked locally run, with fresh food at decent prices, and an attitude of healthiness. It made me really happy. I had a Nicoise Salad (anyone seen White Chicks?), a cup of water, and a salty oatmeal cookie--with actual coarse salt on top--like a hot pretzel--and it was righteous.

We got back on the metro again, and headed toward the portrait gallery once more. This time when we arrived, it was open. The security guards made Andrew carry his bookbag in front of him, though I'm not sure what that inhibits (or anything at all). I practiced illegal photographing, throughout, although a lot of the pictures I took like of the painted piano, didn't save on my phone. Grr. One of the awesomest things shown was the Aluminum foil paradise.. it was so sweet. I enjoyed looking at the paintings, and the horn chair.. despite the fact that my body was exhausted from all the exploring, reading, and learning. 

Our last stop involved going to the National Museum of Building and Design, and looking at exhibits on symbolism and neighborhoods. It was interesting, but being so tired it was hard to know what was important to know or not. We met up as a group to reflect on the day. A bunch of people got lost, or went the wrong ways in their hunts, and several had some weirdos say strange things to them. A guy was convinced that Corrie and Jasmine were rascist when they bought Smartcards, and said that he thought they were going to go shoot people. Another guy told Fetsum that he liked the way he walked. This is how I realized that we had a pretty uneventful day, although it was a blessing. 

We all rode back to the house and as an assignment, half the house told stories about themselves (the rest of us are tomorrow). My favorite was Fetsum's story. He did SALT in Indonesia, and had back problems, and his host father recommended this guy to give him a back rub for cheap, and the back rub was really awkward, in the living room of the house. The guy not only rubbed his butt, but also slapped it when he was done. 

I talked to Emily about my transportation situation. So far so good. We are still not quite sure what I'm going to be doing, but we are getting somewhere, and as long as I am financially able to handle this, it's going to be a good semester. That's the thing I'm sure I'm most nervous about.

Corrie and I made the first meal of the house--Cuban Black Beans with Rice, and a Salad. We had good conversation while we cooked, and I realized something about myself. I'm a little uptight, and like to do things right the first time. I'm pretty sure that I don't like failure. But I can't accept a compliment very well. Makes for almost frantic attitude when things start to go wrong. Which they didn't. Things went very well (although I forgot to add the honey, but who knows if the honey would have made it better anyway?). I did not burn the rice (it was only slightly browned on the bottom, like the perfect toasted marshmallow kind of color). The salad was good, and the black beans themselves were quite tasty. Everyone agreed on getting Netflix as a house, and we all labeled out cups with masking tape, as to reduce washing them. 

After supper, which was a lot less awkward than the meal with Doug, Emily, and Kim, Sanj got into this excited "Let's make Cookies" Marathon kind of attitude. Corrie, Fetsum, and Bryan all went to Target, and got some important ingredients, and then when they got back, we started making oatmeal chocolate chip "Engle" cookies. 

It went really well, we had started rolling them in balls and everything, when Corrie, then Christa tried to preheat the oven, but couldn't turn it on. It had one of those digital temperature setters, and the timer and clock were working earlier when supper was being made, so it was frustrating, trying to figure out what was wrong. Lindsay called her dad and pushed some buttons that only made the timer go berserk and then stop altogether. Sanj pulled the oven away from the wall (though afraid of breaking it, ha), but everything was plugged in, and we couldn't figure out what to do. 

It was thought there was an oven downstairs, but there wasn't. So we resorted to alternative ways to cook the cookies, because some people couldn't wait. Jess tried to microwave one, and it turned out fine, except it cooked in the middle of the cookie, and the outside was still gooey. Then Corrie decided to wrap dough in tin foil and fry it on a pan. It worked--the cookie was browned on both sides, but something (I'm not sure what) got incredibly burnt, and set off two smoke detectors, and we had to hurry and turn them off before the sprinklers turned on (although I'm not sure how long it would take for them to turn on). The grilled cookies turned out well, but the rest of the dough had to be put in the freezer because we couldn't bake it. We were so excited about giving cookies to our neighbors as well...

Location Destination Exclamation: I'm in DC!

So after a late night and an early morning, a lazy chow-down of vending machine food for lunch, and a marathon of Tetris Friends on Facebook, it was 12:15, and my new friend Corrie arrived to take me to DC.
We left half an hour later. Reason? Baggage. It was quite puzzling, I was in disbelief that we would be able to take all my stuff, there was no room when she arrived. But we pushed, shoved, squashed, team-jumped on the trunk of her car to close it (unsuccessful), and crammed a "three" piece lamp in between the front seats. Then we tried to put her mirror back in the car, which was slid into the top of the ceiling until the nails were inches away from everything that was crammed in the back. Corrie held the mirror up with her head as we drove back to her house to leave it on the porch. And then we were on our way!
We got on 81, and headed north. Soon we were sailing down 66... until the signs started flashing "accident ahead, all lanes blocked" and then we sat in traffic, trying to switch lanes with no rear view, and worrying about our room situation. But we called the house, and found out that we each had our own room, the traffic cleared, and then everything was smooth as we arrived in the Motherland.
We happily arrived with much vigor, and unloaded our things after deciding that I was to have the room on the 1st floor and Corrie the second--we had another housemate's mom draw names, because we couldn't decide. Sanjay helped unload as well, and exclaimed about the fact that there were four guitars in the house! Along with a piano.
We had a meeting about the next day, got readings (which still have to be done), and then had pizza. I ate vegetarian. There was a broccoli pizza. Questions flew at dinner, "where's good places to run?" "Where's the closest group homes?" I asked about the closest soccer league.
So tomorrow holds great promises, with a visit to the Portrait Gallery, the National Zoo, the Eastern Market, and a morning run with Corrie and Jessica.
So tonight I slumber, and as my friends start classes tomorrow, I'm going to see the city.
And take lots of pictures.

God truly opens your eyes, ears, and thoughts.

I was praying tonight. It's something that I do every night, as I know that tomorrow is indecisive as it is, and I don't know what circumstances could change in the night. I know that one day could go by and everything change. So I give it to God. Every single night. Tonight I was discerning about my future. It's such a touchy subject, because everything can change with the flip of a card, the ring of a phone, or a ring. But it's not that I worry about that, it's that I really have no idea what on earth I am going to do this summer. I thought I knew. I thought that was the one thing that I had figured out. Then I realized that the one thing I had figured out was the fact that I'm going to DC on Sunday. That's it. I realized that I am starting to plan things for myself again, even though I had no intentions to. I was planning on working at Camp. It's my default. For a little while I went off on a whim and thought about working at a sign shop in Lancaster with some people that are related to some other people that I used to go to the same church with (Mennonite connections). But it was just a whim, and with some convincing from a good friend, I was back on the Camp track. And it was then when it came back up, today actually, that I realized that I needed to rethink the entire idea of doing Camp. What if that was what I wanted, and not what God wanted? What if I was just going with the flow--the routine of my life this far?
I'm a rather rebellious person, though I don't like to talk about it, and often rationalize these things as to being normal. Because it is normal to be a Mennonite pastor's kid and get your tongue pierced. And it's normal to be an Honors student at a high school, but give up being around your high school friends to go to a local university and be a junior in college before you graduate high school.  And it really is normal to go to college with one major in mind, but change your mind a week in. But it isn't normal to finish the semester with those classes, despite the fact that you are not planning to use them in any way, shape, or form. Despite what others say, you have already filled your general education slip for that spot, and though you don't like to think about it, it was kind of a waste of money. (the good part is that you learned from it, you know a little bit more about science than you did, and discovered Chemistry wasn't that bad. And of course, the experience of knowing that it isn't something that you want to do.) It is normal to be completely in love with someone--you have a long distance relationship--but for them to be in Africa, and not heard your voice in nearly a month.  And lastly, it's normal to go on a cross cultural your first year. But the people who know you also know that you were thinking about quitting college and going to do work in the mission field, but this option seemed like a good transition point, considering you didn't know what you wanted to major in, and finishing school as quick as possible was the original plan (didn't get those 60 credits for nothing), but now you have nothing to work from.
This might be a phase that I'm going through. Maybe I just want to be different from people. Maybe it's a psychological uniqueness, where I have to be different from people. I have to make my music, and hope they listen to the words so that they truly hear what's going on in my head. I have to dance around the point I want to say, because it's hard for me to be completely assertive with people who intimidate me. But either way, maybe my rebellion is making me distance people from me.
This isn't even about my "rebellion". I'm not rebelling to make a point to someone, or anyone. I'm not doing it for any ideals, although my vigorous-high-staked-almost-perfectionism could have something to do with that. Within that case, I've always had high standards for myself, being grades in school, and being better, doing things on purpose.
I've discovered, that though I have this attitude at the beginning, it becomes genuine very quickly. It's like high standards are my front that wear, and me being a nut this makes me define myself by my standards. This is so unrealistic, even though people define me by my standards, it's actually just a front I wear. (Which finally gets me to my point)
I don't care about grades. I don't care about academics. I can't care if I'm better than a person, because everyone has relative standards anyway.
What a rabbit trail.
What I have been getting to:
I was praying. Praying that God would show me what path I should take. What I should do this summer. and then after that I'm not worried about. What I know is that God wants me to do something--I don't know what yet-- with people. Seems easy.
I started to be aware of this. That people, and relationships were more important than school work to me, so much to the point that I was disappointed that there was no one to hang out with and I had to go study. The relationships I built at EMU weren't all deep. For me, I'm happy with just talking to someone that I wonder about, or having a quick, but interesting and funny conversation for twenty feet (of walking, in case you didn't catch my drift). I flit from conversation to conversation. It's just how I am. I can stay in the cafeteria for hours, just because there are new people to talk to, be funny with and catch up. I just want to know what's going on in their lives. Anyone really. It tickles me pink to know what makes a person happier than anything, or excited, or to know something significant about their lives that makes them different in what they do and why they do it, than anyone else. I thrive in relationships. And where some people benefit from a few deep friendships, I benefit from being deep with everyone! As you can imagine, even with my truly (almost one hundred percent, it seems) extroverted self, this passion takes a wear on me. Towards the end of the semester, when I was getting amazing amounts of work done, but also when so many people were finally opening up to me and I to them, I was so exhausted, and so unmotivated. I could keep going and keep going, but I had to force myself to do things that my body needed. Like exercise and sleep (I didn't have a problem making it to the cafeteria--that's where all the people were). When I got home, I was tired three hours after waking up in the morning, and I was getting headaches (though I'm pretty sure that had to do with dehydration). Now break is closing, and I'm heading in the direction of DC. A place where the communication will never stop, and I have less work than I did this semester. Either way. I know that right now, God is calling me to a place of work with people. Obviously--he stuck me in a high school. I have no idea where this is getting me. As of right now, I know I'm too impatient to go anywhere for more than a year-year and a half more of classes.  So here I am trusting. As of now, the answer that I received may not even be for this summer, and maybe this summer will be another one of my weird mood swings (like WCSC was) and then I will have become obligated, but I will enjoy it nonetheless. Thus, whatever it is, I trust God.

That's what I have been doing all this time. But what? I still don't know yet. Sorry. It's an open-ended story as of now.
Nothing seems right yet. And I know if I wait too long, opportunities will close. But others will open. This I know, this I am calm with. God is my God, I trust Him. I know that the future is complicated. But this isn't my first rodeo, life is complicated.
As for my options right now, I'm still thinking about Camp Luz. But if something else kicks me in the rear I will not ignore it. I sort of feel like I have a calling to work in inner-city missions, and I feel like DC will either make or break that. But I have spent time in Harrisburg, and I am totally willing to assimilate to anything with people who are willing to listen.
This is where I am.
Sorry if you are confuzzled.

What I like about Rural Western Ohio

As I listen to some works of Johann Sebastian Bach on Pandora after eating my breakfast, and reading the paper, I decided that I wanted to recognize that my family's new home is spectacular. Though the new house itself is small, the neighbors are kind and OPEN to getting to know their own neighbors. Yesterday, we got a message on the machine asking if someone could help Olivia, a neighbor, with her algebra. Because our neighbors just recently started attending our church, Dad located the newest chuch directory, found their number, and called over. A few minutes later, I was teaching, and being reminded that my mathematic ways, though obscure, and accurate, but I don't know if I'd be a good teacher....

Though the cars speeding by did hit my cat, they are far and few between, and salt trucks clear off our Route when it snows. There are not random students who walk through our yard (though Dad did let them do that, as a vow of service to appreciate the youth in Streetsboro), and no one to knock down our rather muscular snowman (although the fact of the matter is that we don't, in fact, have a snowman, and if we did, at some point, someone from our new church home youth group might come and knock it down, to spite Marie. But hopefully we won't have to worry about that.) There are so many wonderful benefits to be living in the country, yet have a town a couple of miles away in almost every direction (of the towns I know of, we can go left, right, and forward-ish to reach one). One thing that I thoroughly enjoy is the grid-like road system--you always know where you are--and each of these grids are one mile in distance from each other--and so it's great for measuring the distance of a workout. The even greater thing about the road that leads to our church is that there is a railroad track halfway between the two aligning roads--yay for subdividing! Another amazing thing about Western Ohio--though we do get snow here, it is NOTHING like Streetsboro snow. We are not in the Lake Effect snow area, so we have about two and a half inches, rather than eight plus that exist in the Boro as of yesterday. But this also means that they call off school for fog, which happened to Marie once (much to her dismay).

One of the things I would take advantage of if I was here more often would be the waving-to-everyone-you-see-wherever-you-go. Because every other place that I have lived has been a rather impersonal city, it's hard for me to get used to this idea, but I hope that in time, I will be willing to do that. But first, I have to learn the names and faces of all the people in church. (In this case, it would be beneficial to get a job around here this summer, but Camp Luz is so much more my style. I was thinking about convincing someone in our church to hire me to help them plant, and deal with all my naive ability, so that I can have something to do in the month before I go work at camp.) Thus, I'm still not comfortable with waving at everyone I meet. Which, if I took on this habit, it would be interesting to go to DC after that and assimilate into their culture.

This summer, we were humbled by the hospitality of everyone who brought over their fresh produce (and their best of the best dessert, for the new pastors and their family~Yikes). We were able to freeze mountains of green beans, and corn, and we didn't even have a garden (something which I hope to change for next year). From the minute I came home from Camp in August there were people here, dropping off food and saying,"Hello." This happened especially when it was warmer, but if people from our church, or some who somehow knew our parents, were passing by, and they saw that we were home, they would stop in to see us, just to say hi.

More nice things--family and local businesses. Stella Leona's in Pettisville makes artisan chocolates--like you've never tried before, and I've spent time at the home of the owner, making "sinful bars" with one of her daughters. The Rupp car shop, also in Pettisville. Mom and I went to get the Daewoo fixed up before Anna and I left for school (and wrecked the car) and somehow, she made some connections with one of the workers, to her own family (who do not reside in Western Ohio at all). Ahh the Mennonite game. Such is my life.

So I feel like we have made a great impression on the people in these towns. And some of the best parts happen because there are people from EMU who I didn't know lived in the area, and then, or course, you run into them at the winter Pettisville schools concert. And then proceed to go back to their house for coffee and ice cream. Or you see them (someone else), at one of the local gift stores.

So these are the things I like about Rural Western Ohio. Oh, and the 55mph speed limits on all the county roads. And the Buckeye, the local paper. And the fact that I found out my hair stylist went to Goshen, and also her cousin goes to school with me. And that a certain type of barbeque sauce at the local grocery store, according to the bottle, was made at the address which we now reside.

Yay.

New Year's Resolutions

I would love to be able to motivated to do something. But it seems that every time that I want to do something, I become drained and it becomes irrelevant.

But if I had motivation:

I would clean my room.

I would go for a walk everyday.

I would diligently study the things I'm interested in.

I would learn to be more patient.

I would start to care about more than myself.

But instead these are the things I'm doing:

I am taking the hard way out. Because I can take the challenge.

I am going to keep waiting for the phone to ring, or for the letters to come.

I write a week of letters, and then send it to the chaos overseas, praying it will reach--farther than I can-- and be held in the hand of the one that I love.

And this year--it won't one of be sadness. It will be one of great rejoicing. For there is so much light, and so much less darkness. Darkness cannot spread when there is light around. Light, however, takes over the darkness with just a flicker, and it changes it.

Each second that passes is a second closer.

And so. if the dreams of ambition --my own-- could be met, I would write a blog