Mid-February Short List

--Neve a Roma! Snow in Rome! For the first time in essentially 24 years, Rome was hit with the fluffy stuff, causing traffic to back up. Am I sorry I missed it? Maybe the photo ops, but seeing as I didn't bring a winter jacket with me to Rome I'm glad we just got rain last winter.

--We like to think that choosing between ambition and love is a fairly recent struggle, but Margaret Sullavan and James Stewart show us otherwise in their 1936 film Next Time We Love. Deciding to pursue a career versus a relationship or dealing with the troubles of juggling both seems to be a timeless motif, and one that Ms. Sullavan and my man Jimmy portray flawlessly.


--Our current topic in Poverty and Social Justice is health care and the idea of preferential option for the poor, an aspect of Catholic social teaching adopted by liberation theologists. This theology greatly influenced Paul Farmer, an American doctor and anthropologist who co-founded Partners in Health, a worldwide health organization striving to provide health care for those in poverty. We are reading Tracy Kidder's book Mountains Beyond Mountains: The Quest of Dr. Paul Farmer, a Man Who Would Cure the World, which narrates Farmer's background and life, especially in Haiti, Peru and Russia.

I encourage everyone to read this book, especially in light of the earthquake in Haiti, which really brought the country's needs and deficiencies to the surface.


--And moving on to books that are not required for any classes, I've also started reading All About Love: New Visions by bell hooks thanks to Drew, who suggested I read it. I'm only in the first chapter, but I like that she doesn't assume the reader knows anything--she starts with a fresh definition of love and looks at it through her contemporary culture critic lens.

Part of the Solution

Every group on campus here at SNC has to meet certain requirements in order to remain an operating organization and continue receiving funds. For one of these requirements, the service component, Cru chose to volunteer at Paul's Pantry, a local food pantry which has distributed over 71.4 million pounds of food to the needy of Brown County since 1984.

We had about thirteen students, some from our Bible studies and others from our outreach with ESL students, who came to help sort the donated items Paul's Pantry receives. Directed by a vocal woman who came up to my elbow, we took bulk donations of cereal, rice, oatmeal and beans and bagged them for families to purchase. Several other groups of volunteers joined us in the bagging and stocking room--some from local high schools and others just individuals who spend their Saturdays helping out at the Pantry.

I knew about Paul's Pantry from my days working in the kitchen at the campus cafeteria. I always hated throwing away perfectly good food, but luckily we were able to send it to Paul's, where it would go to people who actually needed it. What I didn't know was what happened after the food got to Paul's. Because it is such a large pantry and serves so many people, lots of volunteers are needed to keep the shelves stocked, sort through loads of donations, and help those who are shopping there to find everything they need. There was a system in place and everything was well-organized, probably with some thanks to the tiny lady who wasn't afraid to tickle our knees if she needed to get around us.

While we worked, we learned from the ESL students that things like Paul's Pantry don't really exist in Japan. According to the Japanese, it is the government's job to help the needy, and if they aren't going to help, why should the common people? Plus there are certain environmental beautification programs meant to keep the homeless out of cities like Tokyo. The girls with us don't exactly believe that, but that's the common perception in Japan.

Some people in America share such a perception, lending voice to just one side of the multifaceted debate of who is responsible for those in need? My own beliefs, which are always changing the more I learn about the different aspects of poverty, are generally that we are all responsible. I do believe the government plays a part; the purpose of (American) government is to provide for and protect its citizens and allowing millions of people to be homeless does little to protect them. On the other side of things, I am a supporter of the separation of church and state and I recognize the church's responsibility to care for those in need, knowing that the government alone cannot fix things.

Most importantly, though, I believe that helping the homeless or impoverished or anyone in need of anything has to start with an individual. Instead of debating whose fault homelessness is and who should be responsible for helping, we should all focus on doing good where we can.

Fiori di Zucca: How Rome does Cheese Curds

[Written for my Film and Lit course. The assignment was to describe the best meal we've ever eaten...I may get a little sentimental with this.]

"For all sorts of fries the Romans are justly celebrated. The sweet olive-oil, which takes the place of our butter and lard, makes the fry light, delicate, and of a beautiful golden color..." [William Wetmore Story, Roba di Roma]

“Should we get an appetizer?” Ro asks. My roommates and I are crowded around a table in one of Rome’s smaller trattorie. It’s one of our last meals here before we fly back to America.

“Let’s get supplí,” Shannon suggests. Marina and I nod. The cheese and marinara stuffed rice balls have been a favorite Roman treat.

Ro looks over the menu. “They don’t have supplí, but there’s fiori di zucca fritti.”

“Flowers of zucchini…fried?” I guess. My Italian has improved in these four months.

Ro nods. “Fried zucchini blossoms. They’re so good.” Thanks to her highly traditional Italian-American upbringing, Ro is our go-to for questions of language and culture.

We decide to try the fiori di zucca along with some vino for starters and settle in to our cozy corner table. The intimate yellow lighting makes everyone’s skin glow and as varied groups of Romans and tourists squeeze in from the chilly May night, I lose track of what language I hear and speak.

When we fear we will faint if we don’t eat, a cameriera brings a steaming plate of blossoms. The hot, salty aroma of olive oil warms the air around our table and for a second I’m at home, in the Bingo tent at the fair, eating cheese curds. With a “Prego,” from our cameriera, I’m back in Rome and aching to compare these stuffed blossoms to the curds I’m used to.

We all grab one and quickly transfer them to our plates: they are too hot to eat, but our hunger has tripled by seeing and smelling them. Golden brown on the outside and the size of, well, a flower, the fiori di zucca glisten with salt. Under the batter, the bright orange blossoms fade into green. With forks and knives, we slice them open to reveal fresh buffalo mozzarella.

We can’t wait any longer: still using our forks, halves of fiori go in our mouths and immediately we remember why leaving Rome is going to be so difficult. First, my teeth recognize the crunch of the batter, followed by the firm yet tender give of the cheese. A hint of a squeak tickles my tongue. The actual blossom has the mild sweetness of a zucchini and its gentle flavor serves as the dish’s simple foundation as undertones of salty mozzarella and smooth olive oil dance around my mouth. I let the blossom linger, not wanting the taste to end. When it does, I drink some water to cool my mouth in anticipation of the second half of the blossom. Is it possible that this half tastes even better? Ah, si, buon appetito!

More Human Than Human

Today in Film and Lit we watched Blade Runner. I've seen random parts of it, probably on the USA Network (Characters Welcome), but never the whole thing.

I found it really easy to relate to the leading lady/replicant, and not just because we share a name. The way she could be so emotionless and still have so much emotion made her seem abnormally human. I'd love her too, if I was Harrison Ford.

In other news, there was a mild earthquake in northern Illinois this morning?

"I don't really deeply feel that anyone needs an airtight reason for quoting from the works of writers he loves...

...but it's always nice, I'll grant you, if he has one." [J.D. Salinger]

So here's another quote from Mr. Salinger, whom I may or may not love but definitely respect, followed by my reason for quoting him.

“'I'm just going through a phase right now. Everybody goes through phases and all, don't they?”

It's been over a week since his death [check out how The Onion feels about it], but that statement ties in nicely with my previously posted short story--WHICH I have recently revised and reposted. So GO READ IT! by clicking HERE and tell me what you think.

I also have to write an essay on "The Best food/movie/song/moment/passage of literature According to Me" for Film and Literature. I'm pretty sure I'll be writing about fiori di zucca fritti [fried zucchini blossoms] because a) they're Italian and specifically Roman, b) they're flowers that you eat, and c) they're deep fried and filled with cheese.

Nobody Knows You When You're Down and Out

1. Why do I always feel more creative at night, after I climb up 700 feet into my bed? I couldn't sleep last night and I kept writing poems in my head. Of course, I couldn't remember any of them this morning.

2. If the Colts had to lose the Super Bowl, I'm glad it was to the Saints. Sorry Dad.

3. The amount of kids who came to the Writing Center of their own volition last night makes me rethink the hardcoreness of my fellow student. No one comes in on a Monday night when the Packers are playing, but Super Bowl Sunday is apparently not as important.

4. Before I went to work, I was able to catch some of the commercials. Overall, I was not impressed. Millions of dollars to reinforce stereotypes? The Favre of the Future one was alright, and I appreciated the women's heart health shout out, but beer and Doritos had nothing to offer me.

5. I want to say more about the "Don't touch my mama; don't touch my Doritos" one. It broke my heart. And don't say it was just a commercial--there's no such thing during the Super Bowl. Why do children have to resort to violence to protect their mothers? That's not cute. As a woman, I didn't appreciate being compared to a snack either. And why is the woman inviting men who need to be slapped into her home? I found it racist and sexist and just plain sad.

6. Still on the same topic. I'm getting worked up. Advertisers have to know that white men are not the only ones who watch football, so why are the majority of ads geared towards them? Sure, white men reign during the regular season, but my 70-year old grandparents watch the Super Bowl. This article came out last year and the numbers are showing that this year was the most watched Super Bowl ever. I don't claim to know anything about marketing, but as a writer I am familiar with knowing your audience.

7. We are increasing our intensity in weight training. I can barely open a door anymore.

8. I recently discovered Carla Bruni-Sarkozy and have changed my life goals to become her. Italian-born and naturalized French, she has been a model, singer and actress. And now she's the First Lady of France.

Power Nap

This weekend will be one of my more boring ones (taxes anyone?), so instead of describing it here's a poem I wrote for class a few years ago.

Power Nap

Many experts advise to keep the nap
between 15 and 30 minutes,
as sleeping longer gets you into
deeper stages of sleep, from which
it’s more difficult to awaken.
But I’m not concerned
about the waking up.
It’s the falling asleep I can’t seem to manage.

Fridays are great

On Wednesday I had my first strength test for weight training. I showed up late, like usual, so most of the girls had already gone through the set of six exercises. Coach had written the weight he wanted us at and we had to mark how many reps we could do at that weight. I swear either some of those girls lied to look good or they are monsters.

But whatever, I figured I'd use costo as my excuse. Yesterday marked two weeks of my ibuprofen therapy. I've been taking 800 mg three times each day, about every six hours. Which means a lot of the time I'm in class when my side starts hurting again and I know it's time to pop pills. I've gotten some strange looks, but I'm not sure if that's because of the pills or my awesome water bottle, which is essentially a mason jar. People keep asking me if I'm drinking moonshine.

Since I only have my weight training class on Friday, it's my day to relax a little. I wasn't scheduled for work, but I went in for an hour to conduct a group interview since we are looking for a Writing Center Director. I'm not sure what the protocol is on interview confidentiality, but my initial reaction was not so positive. I just don't know how a Melanie Brown or a Laura Neary could be replaced I guess.

Today Yui and Yukari came over and cooked a Japanese meal for Andrea and me. We had miso soup and rice balls of varied (read: some better than other) flavors. And tonight Yuriko and Gaia are cooking another Japanese meal for seven of us. We're pretty spoiled here.

Simplifying

[previously published in Graphos and accepted to the 2010 Sigma Tau Delta Convention.]

Cooper and Sydney play Guitar Hero after school when a flash of lightning illuminates the already bright basement. Seconds later, the lights and blue glow from the TV cut out and the two are left in darkness.

“Aw, c’mon!” Sydney shouts at the TV. “I had a streak going!”

“I win since I was ahead when the power went out. Default.” Cooper takes off his guitar and slumps onto the couch. “Can we just work on calculus now?”

“Cooper.” Sydney remains in guitar-playing position. “First, the power just went out. I’m not going to play ‘Boy Scouts’ and do homework by flashlight. Second, you did not win; I had my guitar on the left-handed setting.”

“You’re left-handed, Syd.”

“Not when I play guitar, Coop.”

“Well I have to be home at five to watch Mia while my parents cook dinner. It’s French Food Night at our house and they foresee trouble with the soufflé if Mia’s around.” Cooper pauses, pulls at a loose thread on the couch, “Mom said you’d understand why you aren’t invited either.”

“Yeah, remember Irish Night? I mean, that wasn’t entirely my fault, but whatever; your family’s themed meals stress me out.” Sydney finally takes off her guitar to look for one of the many flashlights her parents keep for emergencies.

“I know. I should have reminded you Grams is Catholic.”

“It would have made my drunken Irish Catholic joke a lot less awkward,” Sydney shouts from the closet. She comes back with two flashlights, shines one at Cooper’s face. He flinches as the light momentarily blinds him. “So now what?” she asks.

"Watch the eyes, Syd." Cooper grabs the other flashlight from Sydney's hand. “I don't know now what. The storm put a kibosh on the driving range and Guitar Hero."

"Well we have to do something to decide once and for all which of us is more amazing.”

“Really? We’ve been doing this since sixth grade. Can’t we just call it quits?”

“Are you kidding me? We need to finish what we started. Or are you afraid of losing?” Sydney holds her flashlight under her chin so it illuminates only her face. “Submitted for the approval of the Midnight Society, I call this story, 'The Tale of the Spineless Pansy,'" she says in her best Are You Afraid of the Dark? voice.

“Oh, very nice Sydney. Why don’t you just make fun of me using obsolete pop culture references? Let’s just go to McDonald’s; we can probably get some free burgers. My parents keep making dairy-based meals even though they know I’m lactose intolerant.”

“Ew, we’re not going to McDonald’s. Besides, I’m a vegetarian.” Sydney sits next to Cooper and uses her flashlight to make shadow puppets on the ceiling.

“How long have you been a vegetarian?”

Sydney consults her imaginary watch, “Like a week, I think. Anyways, come on. Can we just play a board game? One game, that’s it. Winner takes all.”

Cooper lets out a long breath. They are seniors in high school. Sydney will never grow up. “Okay. We’ll play one game — no rematches, no do-overs.”

“Sudden death by candlelight; I like it.” Sydney heads to the bookshelf and looks over her board game selection. “Alright, we have Monopoly—”

“Takes too long. Besides you used a Sharpie to change it to Redistribution during your Communist phase.”

“Oh, right. Battleship?”

“We've played that before. You always move your ships around so they're never in the same spot.”

“I just want it to be realistic. If you ever want to make it in the Navy you've got to know how to hit a moving target. How about Clue?”

“That one might work.”

Sydney pulls the Clue box down. “Actually,” she bites her bottom lip, “let’s not play Clue. We’re missing all the guy pieces.”

“What?”

“We’ve only got Mrs. White, Mrs. Peacock, and Miss Scarlet. Remember the feminist phase I went through last winter?”

Cooper shakes his head as Sydney puts Clue back on the shelf.

“What about Scrabble?” he asks. “That way it’s about skill, not luck.”

“Alright, but just know I’m a Scrabble champion.”

“Sydney, you can’t even spell champion.”

“Oh, it is on, Cooper. Hardcore.” Sydney pulls the Scrabble box off the shelf, handing it over to Cooper to set up on the table while she finds some candles.

Sydney lays first: “Free. That’s seven points for Team Amazing,” she says.

“We’ll see who’s amazing after I get done owning this board,” Cooper says.

“You talk big words, can you play any?”

“C-R-E-S-T,” Cooper says. “Crest for fifteen points. I’ve already doubled your score, Syd. What’s your next move?”

Sydney wrinkles her forehead and sticks her tongue out in concentration. Finally she puts down an O and a blank tile next to Cooper’s T, declaring it TOP. “Two points,” she mumbles, picking up two more tiles.

Cooper grabs two tiles and arranges them on the board in one graceful motion, turning Sydney’s FREE into FREEZE. “Nineteen points. If you want you can give up now.”

“You don’t need to worry about me, Slim. I’ve got this in the bag.” Sydney concentrates on her tiles. “Can I change the blank tile to an N? TON is still a word.”

“Have you ever played Scrabble before? No, that’s cheating.”

“Is not, Rule Nazi.”

“Don’t call me a Nazi, Communist. Just play something else.”

“Fine.” Sydney places an A under the blank tile serving as a P, followed by a V and another blank tile. “PAVE,” she says.

“You had both the blank tiles?”

Sydney nods. They continue playing. The only sounds interrupting their focused silence are the candles burning and tiles clicking.

After several minutes, Sydney places O-B-I-A beneath the F from FREEZE.

“That’s not a word, Syd. Phobia is P-H-O-B-I-A,” Cooper says.

“I know; Scrabble is phonetic.”

“Since when?”

Sydney looks across the board at Cooper. “My house my rules?”

Cooper shakes his head, making the already flickering shadows dance on the wall. Sydney lets out a huff and takes her tiles back.

“Is mibanox a word?” she asks.

“What? No. What?”

“Mibanox. Never mind. Here,” Sydney slaps down a blank tile in front of the word LIPS. “It’s an F,” she says, arms crossed over her chest.

“Syd…that’s the third blank tile you’ve used,” Cooper says, reaching down to pick it up. “There’s an N on this side! You’re a crazy person.” He throws an S and an L-E on either side of WIND to turn it into SWINDLE. “How’s that for a good word?” he says, leaning back in his chair with a smug grin.

“Oh, Cooper's got tricks. Alright, I’ll add an I-X to CLEAN and we have Kleenex.” Sydney grins right back.

“You can’t use proper nouns, Syd! Plus, that’s not how you spell Kleenex. Not even close.”

“Close enough. And what’s this about proper nouns? You were the one who started it with Crest. Like the toothpaste?” Sydney raises her eyebrows, waiting for Cooper’s answer.

Cooper opens his mouth to say something, then closes it again, shaking his head. “Sydney, ‘crest’ is an actual word with a definition; it’s not just a brand of toothpaste. You know that.” Cooper pushes his chair away from the table and stands up. “I can’t do this anymore. It’s like playing with Mia. Ever since we were kids you’ve been like this, with your phases and no-carb diets and, and....changing the rules to everything....Remember that research paper we had to write for Mr. MacSween? I know you made up all your facts and sources. You wrote that Shia Labeouf is a direct descendant of Einstein.”

“Whoa. Cooper. Settle down. It’s just Scrabble and Shia and Einstein do have almost identical bone structure. Besides, everyone knows MacSween never reads those papers. I wasn’t cheating, just simplifying.” Sydney crosses her arms.

“Well I’m sick of you simplifying! Does everything have to be done your way?”

“What’s your deal, Cooper? I don’t come down on you for being such a hardass all the time. Can we please finish the game?”

“No, because it will never be good enough. You’ll blame your loss on being sick and demand a rematch. Let’s just stop now.”

Sydney doesn't say anything, only stares at the board.

“Did you hear me, Syd? I give up. You win — by default.” Cooper walks back to the couch and sits, flicking his flashlight off and on.

“Cooper, c’mon...” Sydney stands up to join him. “I really don’t care who’s more amazing. It’s all just a stupid game, I know.” She sits and pulls her knees up to her chin, then lets out a small laugh.

Cooper looks over at Sydney. With the sparse candlelight he can barely see her. “What’s so funny?”

“It's nothing, just...promise you won’t be mad?” Sydney asks.

“Sure, whatever.”

“No, Cooper, I mean it. I should tell you something, and it’s kind of funny, but I don’t know. You might just think I’m crazy.”

“I do think you're crazy.”

Sydney turns to look at Cooper, raises her eyebrows.

“Sorry. I promise I won’t be mad or judge you or anything, okay?”

“Okay.” Sydney takes a deep breath, “We’ve been best friends since we were six. But in middle school, you got cool and I got weird. I hated that we weren't hanging out anymore, so I figured if I made a game out of it you would have to keep hanging out with me, at least until someone won. I know how competitive you are. And then I just never let the game end. I think it might have gone on too long. I know I can be obnoxious.”

Cooper's mouth hangs open like it does when he's confused. “Sydney, are you serious? You thought all of that in sixth grade?”

“Well, no. I mostly made that up now. But it was something like that.”

“I didn’t know you were so worried about that stuff. You don’t have to worry. I mean, I only got cool in middle school because that's when I got my braces taken off. It wasn't long before everyone else had straight teeth too, and then I was back to being Cooper, the kid everyone copied answers from.”

With a few flickers, the lights and TV come back on. Sydney and Cooper blink as their eyes adjust. Upstairs, the refrigerator hums to life.

“Oh.” Sydney says. “Well, speaking of copying ans—”

“Yeah,” Cooper clears his throat. “Let’s finish calculus.”

They push the Scrabble board and their conversation off to the side and replace it with calculators and textbooks.

“How did you eliminate the parameter in number five?” Cooper asks.

“That was easy. I just drew some dynamite around it, and then a stick person lighting it and running away. And then I showed the parameter blowing up,” Sydney pushes her notebook over to Cooper. “It’s simple, see? Parameter eliminated.”

I'm a real writer!

I've been meaning to put more of my creative (fiction) writing on here, especially since I'm basically a pro. (Ha.) Just today I expanded my list of credentials. I've already been published several times in Graphos, SNC's literary journal, which isn't The New Yorker or anything, but it is legit. And I learned this morning that one of my pieces got accepted to the Sigma Tau Delta International Convention in St. Louis!

I've never submitted to STD before but I've had friends go the conference and they always have awesome things to say. What I do know is I get to read MY story to people. Like a real writer. When I read my name on the list of presenters (I'm on a list of presenters! It's like the Oscars!) I swear my body started floating several inches off my chair. My face flushed and I felt this rising heat from deep in my stomach. I love writing.

Okay, I just promised more creative writing and then went on to talk about me. Oops. Check back in a few hours, I'll post the story that got accepted, okay?

Thanksgiving

"I wish I had a great way to "wrap this one up", but the truth is that it's almost impossible to bring any resolve to this blog when I'm totally unresolved in my heart....I guess what I would have to say is that it isn't the level of poverty that blows me away it's our level of ignorance.

Don't feel guilty. Feel informed. Feel empowered. And for God's sake do something about it." --John Mark McMillan 1/29/10

"But there are times when I become aware of so many things that seem to be going wrong and I feel powerless in the face of it all. At that moment, there seems like there is only one thing left I can do: I pray." --Colin Beavan 1/27/10

Tonight I have to write a reflection on my experiences with poverty and as I realize how minute those are I can't help but be abundantly grateful. I can't help but prayerfully recognize how many blessings I do have.

If you can't feed a hundred people, then feed just one. [Mother Teresa]

When I woke up this morning there was a fresh layer of snow on the ground. Did Punx Phil see his shadow? I don't even know.

I've been mulling over a lot of (interrelated) things lately. It comes down to
Filling out these service applications and answering questions like "What draws you to direct service?"
Sitting in on a guest speaker for a Human Dignity class.
Reading a book on one man's quest to live a completely sustainable lifestyle.
Visiting a local homeless shelter for my own Poverty and Social Justice class.
Reading a book on poverty in the aggregate for P and SJ.

I'm drawn to direct service because even though everything I read and see screams "No Hope!" I want to be part of the solution, not the problem.
Because when Dr. John Perkins gave his Three 'R's'(which in his Southern accent sounded like "Three Auras") he shook up my previous belief on socialist thought.
Because the people who seek warmth, comfort, a shower at the homeless shelter don't even have the bootstraps with which to pull themselves up.
Because no matter how much our society believes that working harder or being smarter will guarantee eventual success, the facts say otherwise--the problem of poverty in America is not caused by a lack of education or manners or determination. The problem is the structural breakdown in politics, economics, culture, and society.

I wish I could just take all of these things in my head from the past two days and share it with everyone but I know there's just too much to say.

Dr. Perkins' 3 R's were Relocation (knowing another's problem as if it were your own, like how Jesus relocated to Earth to know us), Reconciliation (getting back to 'right' with God and others), and Redistribution. NOT the communist, socialist version, which I have sometimes thought would solve many world problems. You know, the "It's not a matter of lacking resources, it's the unequal distribution of them" argument. No. Dr. Perkins had this to say about that: "If you took all the rich people's money and gave it all to the poor, the rich people would have it back by tomorrow night. [pause] The poor people would just use it to buy a Cadillac from the rich people." His redistribution is more of our own feelings and emphases. Put more value on people, not possessions.


Colin Beavan, in No Impact Man, restates this people-centered sentiment with his own environmental twist. What if our single-use, throwaway lifestyle was not making life easier? What forgoing takeout and television not only helped the planet but made us happier and brought us closer to those we loved? I highly recommend everyone read this book, but don't worry, there's a No Impact Man movie documenting the entire project!

Today at St. John the Evangelist Homeless Shelter we learned about the history and background of the shelter. It's pretty much the last stop for the homeless of Green Bay, meaning they have exhausted all other avenues. Other shelters require people to be alcohol and drug free with little to no criminal background; St. John's basic requirements are that you are 18 or older. Other shelters run 24 hours a day, year round; St. John's is only open from 5pm to 9am November to April, the coldest and harshest time of the year. It's an emergency shelter with a max capacity of 50, and lately they've been seeing numbers in the 40s. For my Poverty and Social Justice class we also have to complete 15 hours of service at a place of our choosing and St. John's is where I plan to do mine.


The book Poverty and Power: the Problem of Structural Inequality sounds intense, but it's ideas are so basic I found myself 200 pages in within three days of reading. Why does the US have the highest rate of poverty and, in general, the highest level of economic inequality among rich nations? According to Royce, individuals within poverty cannot take the blame for the entire concept of poverty. The question isn't always why is HE poor, but why is ANYONE poor? While Conservatives deal out tough love and moral uplift and Liberals focus on more training and education so the individual can better his or her self, few people are left to focus on creating jobs and investing in poor communities.

What's hardest is knowing nothing I write will get anyone off the streets and into housing or the job market. My sudden and increased passion is useless if the entire system is broken. But I don't want anyone thinking I have no hope--no, I've actually been in a humbled, grateful mood the past few days. "The rich and the poor have this in common: the LORD is the maker of them all." [Proverbs 22.2]

New Uses for Old Alcohol

Earlier today I hand-washed some of my laundry and now my black socks are drying by the fireplace. It looks like an Amish family just came in from ice skating.

For dinner I made garlic chicken with rice and peas and I decided to try the bottle of spumante I found at Mom and Dad's over break. The chicken was great, but I wasn't sure how I felt about the champagne.

So I found this recipe for champagne cake.

Awesome.

Thursdays

Thursdays are going to be rough.

I only have two classes, but they are intense. First is Criminology for two hours then after a two hour break, two more hours of Poverty and Social Justice. So right away they've got the time length intensity going.

Add the actual substance of these classes and you've got me, thanking Jesus for Thursday night comedy on TV.

Today in Criminology we watched a film on a school shooting/parricide and then in Poverty and Social Justice we discussed, well, poverty and social justice. Sometimes after working out I'm physically tired and after reading for classes I'm mentally tired, but after classes today I was emotionally tired.

The first of my last

This is going to be short since the NyQuil I took is starting to work. Second semester highlights:

-I am in a weight training class MWF at 8 in the morning. Pros: I'm going to have arms like Michelle Obama. Cons: 8 in the morning.

-I felt like I was in Italy again when the classroom got switched way last minute for my Film and Literature course. Luckily two other girls did not get the memo so we could be embarrassed together as we walked in 15 minutes late.

-Being late/mixed up got way better when Dr. Risden did first a Sean Connery impression and then a Godfather impression within 5 minutes of each other. Awesome.

-Again, the classroom (and professor this time) of my Criminology course got switched. I had just checked to be safe, though, so I made it to the right place at the right time.

-My hopes were dashed when Dr. Shippee wrote Sociological Criminology on the board followed by: NOT CSI, NOT Criminal Minds, NOT Silence of the Lambs.

-Poverty and Social Justice promises to be an interesting class, especially considering my post grad plans of service in the social justice world.

-Sr. Sally Ann, who teaches Pov & Soc Just, is the sweetest nun ever. She made the entire room smell grandmotherly and I would not feel out of place asking her to tie my shoe in the middle of class.

-I already have a stack of books two feet high from various libraries that may or may not be related to my classes.

ice skating commentator formula

I think announcers for ice skating competitions are the greatest.

The skater finds her place on the ice and the music starts; this is when the announcers tell a personal story about the skater--"Bob, she's been fighting off a pesky cough these last few days so we'll see if that affects her skating." Or, "Now, you know she's been wanting to skate here at the Nationals ever since she watched Michelle Kwan at the Olympics. She told me she just loved seeing the combination of grace and strength."

Then the skater gets into her routine and the announcers get a little more technical. "The reason she's all over the place tonight is that nervousness she's fighting. But maybe there's nothing to be nervous about....tonight!" as she prepares for and executes a triple lutz or double axle.

By this point they are invested; you can almost see them clenching their seats, leaning forward as if to give their extra energy to the skater. For some time they remain silent. As the viewer we trust this is because there are no words to say, not because the announcer really has no idea what a triple lutz or double axle are.

As the skater ends, though, the announcers pick up their technical talk. "We have to remember she saved that jump for the last half of her program, which adds ten-percent to her points. After her short program, though, will this skate be enough to put her in the top three?"

The skater strikes her final pose, chest rising and falling as if she were asthmatic, and we hear predictions and speculation for how the judges will score.

What's not to like about such a simple formula and the enthusiasm with which those announcers follow it?

put something witty here. --me//okay. --me again

After all of the writing and reading I have been doing lately I realize writing breeds more writing. I can't stop thinking in my narrative voice, which is okay because after so long I've come to treat it as my more intelligent best friend. My more intelligent and sarcastic best friend. Also, I may have just diagnosed myself with multiple personality disorder there.

My current reading list: Dreaming in Hindi by Katherine Russell Rich and Up in the Air by Walter Kirn (now a major motion picture starring George Clooney!).

My current writing list: application essays, this blog, a novel. That last one's an exaggeration unless you can count 200 pages of collected blog posts and journal entries from when I was in Rome. My motivation is getting it all in one place, finally, one year later. With some embellishment maybe that place could be a bookstore? I'm going to start changing the names for fun.

thank you extended time alone in the writing center

Friday and application 5 of a possible 7 is finished! Mercy Volunteer Corps, different than MercyWorks, has locations all over the US including Sacramento, CA, Detroit, MI, Phoenix, AZ, and several areas of New England.

I can't believe I finished it by four, though maybe the coffee I had this morning has something to do with that.

Now it's happy weekend! Hockey game tonight, more applications tomorrow and Sunday.

This One's Escaping Me.

One of the questions for this application asks me to describe a time when I've been wrong. I just can't think of one...

costochondritis

That's what Dr. Gary thinks I have. After a series of questions and some poking and prodding, he pulled that polysyllabic wonder out. It basically means the cartilage of my ribcage is inflamed. So it's not my spleen or a muscle cramp or anything like that. And now I get to take copious amounts of ibuprofen to take care of it.

Today's Application of the Day is from MercyWorks, the volunteer program connected to Mercy Home in Chicago. (again, Chicago). I was feeling discouraged as I began the application, thinking I wasn't suited for it even though the coordinator showed an initial interest, but as I looked through their website and read the current volunteers' reflections I got more confident. Those volunteers sounded a lot like me--unsure at first, but passionate about social concerns.

So I'm going to keep filling it out and trust that I end up in the right program for me.

on a roll

Third application done...I wish application-filling out could be a paid job. This one, Capuchin Franciscan Volunteer Corps, has locations in Chicago, Milwaukee and Detroit. Is anyone else sensing a theme? Somehow I have managed to choose programs that (almost) all have locations in Chicago. Is the Windy City in my future? I wouldn't mind that.

My workout today was straight up running and biking. I haven't been sore yet, but I can feel my leg muscles starting to ache now. Maybe because I've been sitting in this awkward laptop position for too long.

I also started tutoring again; we're working on research papers now so it's getting intense. My student still loves me.

"you've got a lot going on here"

Worked out again this morning! Okay...read People on the StairMaster.

Then I hoofed it over to the Writing Center for a few office hours. One scheduled appointment turned into a no show and I used all the quiet time, comfy swivel chair access, and energy from the bag of M&M's I found in the cabinet to finish another application--this one for Augustinian Volunteers out of Pennsylvania. They have locations in Chicago, the Bronx, San Diego, and Lawrence (MA).

I also found time this afternoon to see the RN at the Health Center, where I learned my body is falling apart. Not really, but she gave me Sudanyl for my sinus congestion and some eye drops for what appears to be conjunctivitis. What is that you ask? Let's just say the windows to my soul are the color of a baby girl's bonnet. Wonderful. I'm going to love wearing my glasses for a week.

She also set me up with the Health Center Director so he can figure out what's up with my side pain. My guess is my spleen wants to expel itself from body just for fun, but maybe he'll have a better hypothesis.

On the docket for tomorrow: tutoring and finishing another application.

MLK Jr Day

Yesterday was Martin Luther King, Jr. Day and while I did not attend any special service, I believe I appropriately commemorated the day.

I started off with a breakfast of banana chocolate chip pancakes, the perfect energy boost before working out.

And by working out, of course I mean reading Newsweek and Time while I walk briskly on the treadmill.

After lunch, I spent three hours in the library working on the application for Amate House in Chicago.

Then Andrea and I made chicken fajitas and I spent the rest of the evening finishing the application, only taking some short breaks to eat ice cream and watch The Office.

RIP, Dora... ???-1/15/09

This morning when I went to put Jack and Dora back in their regular bowl (they spent the night in a cottage cheese container, waiting for their water to become livable), Dora drifted aimlessly near the top of the water.

She was perfectly fine last night, curious even, swimming around in little circles and nibbling her little goldfish flakes, but sometime last night she must have decided this world was too much for her.

Now my fear is Jack won't want to stick around much longer, seeing as I had to flush his best friend before noon. I know Dora sometimes annoyed him (she would always swim into Jack, knocking him off course), but at the end of the day they always had each other.

I don't know when she was born, but I do know that I had her for about six months. It doesn't matter; she was too young.

year one

I can't remember if I've mentioned this yet (and I'm too lazy to check) but it's now been exactly one year since I first stepped foot in Rome, the city that inspired this blog.

Wow.

And to commemorate that, I decided today to take out my Roma journal and read through it and pick up where I left off in Livy's The Early History of Rome. Next I'm going to find Eat, Pray, Love and read that again.

I've also started putting together all of my blogging/journaling/added embellishments from studying abroad into one giant...thing. I haven't decided yet what it's going to be, except hopefully interesting and enjoyable.

Does anyone else feel this way? Or am I just heartless?

Can you ever be totally sympathetic to someone, especially if you have no way of understanding their situation?

I wonder this a lot because, to be honest, I rarely sympathize (or is it empathize? I can never remember the difference between those two) with others. Yes, I listen to and care about my friends, but if they are going through something that I have no frame of reference for, I have a hard time understanding.

Which is probably why I usually don't go to others with my problems. If I don't understand them, why would they understand me?

Or, if I do ask for advice, it's just to gather a sort of survey of others' feelings. Then I go ahead and do what I want anyway.

laughs and songs

Lately I've been grooving to this guy's comedy: Eugene Mirman.

Along with this music: Speechwriters LLC.

resolution-ish

1. Something I've realized this past year is my affinity for disclaimers. I have two theories for this. First, I'm not a fan of offending people. Second, I don't really like speaking in moderates. I'm a hypocrite, but mostly I like to make bold statements. Unfortunately, I also make a lot of mistakes which means I have to redact certain bold statements.

2. These aren't resolutions. They're more like observations.

3. αδιάλειπος προσεύχομαι (adiáleipos proséf̱chomai)...it's Greek for pray without ceasing. 1 Thessalonians 5:17. Adiáleipos is also the term used for a constant hacking cough. If you have this cough, you aren't always coughing...but you're never not coughing. In the same way we can't always pray, but we should never be not praying.

4. I think about most of these things really late at night as I fall asleep, and then I promptly forget them once I am sleeping. Honestly, I don't know how many great ideas I've lost to sleep. This list of observations, though, I remember. I'd say it's because as I was pondering these things last night I prayed specifically that I'd remember something worth posting. Thank you Jesus.

5. In 2010, I am going to take advantage of lists. I don't know why I don't write lists more often. They're easy and I'm good at them.

6. I missed a 4.0 this semester by one class, in which I got an AB. Dang. I'm so glad that class is over, though. I fought sleeping through it the entire semester. When a philosophy/literature course features a math professor, DO NOT sign up for it. Ever.

7. It's past midnight. Happy birthday, Dad!

ho finito!

Some things never change, like my compulsion to speak Italian when I bevo il caffe. Or my compulsion to speak Italian in general. I could go on forever about la bella lingua, but that's not what I'm here for.

I'm done! (That's what the title means) All my take home exams are turned in, all my finals are taken, I sold some books back, I'm in the process of packing and cleaning the apartment, Christmas music is playing...

And I've been reading Isaiah: "Whether you turn to the right or to the left, your ears will hear a voice behind you, saying, 'This is the way; walk in it'" (30:21). Good stuff, especially since I'm still not sure what graduation will mean for me!

Singles and Couples Manifesto

After Wednesday's tardy snow day (while everyone else knew before school started that classes would be canceled, SNC declined to close campus until after 9...so I ended up going to my first class before I could enjoy a day off :) ), Thursday and Friday flew by. Today Andrea and I schlepped all of our finals materials to Kavarna to get out of the apartment and accomplish something. And I wrote a pretty solid manifesto on the interdependence of the human race.

Singles & Couples, the class I wrote this manifesto for, is my favorite this semester. We have been reading literature supporting the autonomy versus relationship of individuals and discussing which is more natural, how each one plays out in real life. After writing our initial thoughts on single v couple for class this week, we each had to take into account what our classmates wrote and expand that into an actual manifesto. Anyways, here it is:

It did not surprise me to learn that in the entirety of our class, no one wrote a manifesto on the complete independence of humans. It is clear by our collective thoughts we lean towards interdependence or at least a balance of autonomy and relationship, though that balance might differ from person to person. Caitlyn, Sam and I were the only ones who wrote on the complete interdependence and our manifestos each reiterated the idea of connection even when we think we are alone. Caitlyn writes, “Although one can be physically alone, one can never truly be alone.” The three of us commented on the fact that even when we aren’t surrounded by people, our thoughts are still influenced by everyone we have interacted with and any measure of autonomy we have is just another form of connection—whether to thoughts or memories or places influenced by others.

Jody, Chloe, Tess and Matt each wrote on the balance struck between relation and independence. Chloe believes, “the best situation is a balance of extremes,” while Matt and Tess each agree that the balance differs by individual, since, as Tess writes, “if everyone had the same balance of autonomy and relationship there would be no sense of an individual." Jody brought into the discussion Rainer Maria Rilke’s thoughts on autonomy and relationship: “I hold this to be the highest task for a bond between two people: that each protects the solitude of the other.” These manifestos get at a piece of the truth, but I still believe they are too moderate, too balanced. They avoid the extreme of relation in fear that humans just might be completely interdependent. It’s a scary thought, that each of us is connected to each other, but taking into account ideas from Virginia Woolf’s Mrs. Dalloway and Michal Cunningham’s The Hours, it is easy to understand the essential connectedness of human beings.

Humans were created for relationships in all senses of the word: familial, brotherly and intimate. We rely on connections throughout our entire lives, from conception to even death, which is the only other shared experience we have with humankind besides birth. Sex, our most essential action as a species, is physically the closest people can get. Two separate individuals become one. If connections weren’t imperative for our growth and fulfillment, why would our most vital action involve such a degree of connection? As individuals, we form our identities through those we do or do not relate to. We are students in relation to teachers and friends or enemies in relation to peers. Clarissa Dalloway may have married Richard Dalloway for the sense of individuality she could retain, because “there is a dignity in people; a solitude; even between husband and wife a gulf; and that one must respect,” (Woolf 181) yet the title of the book remains Mrs. Dalloway, showing the reader that at the end of the day, Clarissa is connected to Richard. In fact, Clarissa herself articulates her undying connection to the entire world through what she calls a mist: even in death, she thinks, “she survived, Peter survived, lived in each other, she being part, she was positive, of the trees at home; of the house there, ugly, rambling all to bits and pieces as it was; part of people she had never met; being laid out like a mist between the people she knew best” (12). Clarissa even deems herself part of people she has not met, key in the connectedness of the human race.

While everyone seeks solitude at some point, they generally do not seek it permanently. Some solitude is even just a different form of connection—solitude with a book is connection to another world and its characters; solitude with only thoughts is a connection with the inner self and the inner self to the processing of outside stimuli. Those who would believe humans crave solitude at some point, who quote Rilke in his protection of the solitude of humans, have dismissed the first part of that quote which discusses the “highest task for a bond between two people.” Rilke admits solitude happens, but only in the sense of strengthening connection. I view solitude as an inner sanctum within the greater realm of relationship. Yes, sometimes we do things on our own, but we remain connected in our thoughts of others, in our existence within the same places in which others have previously existed.

Peter Walsh gets at this eternal connectedness human beings experience as he muses about Clarissa’s party:

For this is the truth about our soul, he thought, our self, who fish-like inhabits deep seas and plies among obscurities threading her way between the boles of giant weeds, over sun-flickered spaces and on and on into gloom, cold, deep, inscrutable; suddenly she shoots to the surface and sports on the wind-wrinkled waves; that is, has a positive need to brush, scrape, kindle herself, gossiping. (244)

Humans have that need to crash into other humans, to brush against them and connect with “gossip,” or any news of others. Even if we do this as individuals, we do it in our eternal need, eternal quest, for connection with others.

my brain won't sleep

On multiple occasions today people told me I looked frazzled. I don't know why; maybe it was my inability to make eye contact with anyone or the way I was always a little bit out of breath, no matter where I was. Today felt like playing catch up. Like I missed a couple hours somewhere, into some time black hole, and had to run the rest of the day to stay on track. For some reason I felt rushed the entire day and still I feel a couple hours behind the rest of the world.

The good (obvious? anxiety-inducing?) news is the semester is rolling (crawling? racing? I really have no idea if it's time or me moving slowly) to an end. Seven more classes, two more papers, four more finals. And suddenly I'm a second semester senior. I don't know if I should barf or cheer.

nerd alert

Not sure how I feel about Apple's latest ad for the iPod Touch. Funnest?

almost finito...

Even though this week of school is only two days long, it's one of my busiest this semester.

I had a paper due in one class today a group paper/presentation in my other one. The paper was on breaching social norms. I did this by bringing a regular mug of coffee to class instead of putting it in a travel mug. I didn't mean for this to be weird at first, but people made comments about it so I continued my experiment at work in order to write the paper on it.

The group project was on the Oneida Community of the 1800s, which became the Oneida Corporation Ltd...yes, that means all of that silverware was first manufactured by a bunch of communists. Communists who believed in complex marriage (all men married to all women) nonetheless.

I just finished the paper due tomorrow morning for art class, the one comparing The Assumption of the Virgin to Untitled (Portrait of Ross in L.A.). Then I have a book discussion and finally I have to do a lesson plan for my tutoring session Wednesday morning.

Then I can come home!!

Life Options

I've known for quite some time that I'm an internal processor, but for some reason I've forgotten that lately. My journaling--whether by blog or the old fashioned way--has gotten stale. After the conference this past weekend, though, I remembered just how much I need journaling to stay sane.

This past weekend was the Life Options conference in Minnetonka, MN. It was sponsored by Cru, so they provided a Biblical perspective for choosing our futures. I didn't go expecting to learn exactly what to do or to come away with my future all neat and orderly, but I was interested to see what they would say.

Because only juniors and seniors went, it was one of the more mature and serious conferences I've been to. Sure, we had fun--the emcee joked around, speakers showed us movie clips from October Sky and The Lord of the Rings--but they got down to business right away.

The focus speaker for the weekend was Roger Hershey, who I've heard before at Big Break. He's amazing and just a really wise guy who really emphasized keeping an eternal perspective. Other speakers and breakout sessions I went to discussed ways to not go crazy during this transition time and what the workplace can be like.

After one of our campus times where we each discussed things on our minds, I decided it was time to get all my thoughts out on paper. I had a hard time relating to the group what I was thinking, but in a jarbled fashion I pretty much told them about my contentment with where I'm at. During the quiet time I then had, I found this verse: "And now, O Lord, for what do I wait? My hope is in you" (Psalm 39:7). It really summed up my feelings.

I don't know where I'll be in a year, or nine months, or barely six months. I do know what I need to do tomorrow though, and the next day. So I'll start there. It's like walking through the woods with only a lighter to see where I'm going. I don't need a giant search light, the small flame will do. I'll get out of the woods eventually.

If Grace is an Ocean, We're All Sinking

Tomorrow I promise I will write something about my weekend in Minnesota.

Tonight I need to share this song with you.

We sang "How He Loves" a lot this summer. We did it during worship at our big group meetings and my five roommates and I sang it around our apartment almost daily. I have the lyrics written out on a giant sheet of paper in my room now because when I read them it reminds me of the summer and I can't help but be in a good mood.

It's an awesome song, both lyrically and musically. Ask Andrea, I've spent the past week listening to every version of it on youtube. Here is the David Crowder Band version with lyrics.

disclaimer

Okay, just to make some things clear. I did/do not mean my last post to offend/discredit teachers or education majors in any way. I think that the idea of me teaching is just so foreign to me, I don't know how to describe this feeling that maybe it's what I'm supposed to be doing.

It's like growing up knowing that I'm not attracted to redheads. Not because there is anything intrinsically wrong with redheads, but just because I'm just not attracted to them. So I base all my dating experiences on that knowledge and come to find out I've somehow fallen in love with a ginger. Yeah, that sums it up. Growing up I just wasn't attracted to teaching; all of my higher education choices reflect the different path(s) I've chosen and yet I somehow still arrived at destination: teaching.

I promise I'm going to stop making a big deal out of this soon (though I'm not sorry that I am making such a fuss--I'm allowed to obsess about my future a little). Tomorrow I meet with a representative from career services so he should help me figure out if I'm at all suited for educating--and if not what would work better.

future?

I've been looking at volunteer services lately, thinking maybe that's something I'd like to do after graduation. It's all a part of my grand plan to not get a real job (ok, not exactly that, but to not get an office job or a job that requires me to wear nylons). Anyways, these volunteer organizations are very similar to the Peace Corps, except they are all faith-based so most operate out of churches or other spiritual organizations.

When I first started looking I narrowed down the nearly 200 options to about 50 and just today I got my list of options down to 28. It's hard, though, to know which ones are most suited to me and which ones will provide the best opportunities for post-service. They are all between 1-2 years long, though there is an option to renew, and they all provide things like housing, insurance, a stipend, and this really awesome thing called loan deference. The biggest differences are the locations (urban, rural, domestic, international...) and the actual placement (healthcare, education, human services, youth ministry...).

I'm not sure if I mentioned this already, but lately it seems all I do is teach, which makes me wonder if that's what I'm supposed to be doing. My entire life I've avoided association with any sort of "education" background--going so far as to take offense when people ask me if I'm going to school to be a teacher or if I'm in English Ed as opposed to "just" English. To set the record straight, I'm English, emphasis in creative writing and minor in sociology. No education classes at all. And I'm completely pleased with my decision--in fact, contrary to statistics they gave in high school (that the average student changes their major 6 times) I never once questioned my major.

Slight digression. Back to me, teaching. I do work at the Writing Center, where I consult students. I'm teaching writing to a home-schooled teen. And lately I've had several people tell me I should be a teacher. It's weird. And now that I've been looking into these volunteer programs, there are several teaching ones--some that would provide me with a grad school education upon completion of the program.

I still feel like a move into the education world would be like folding my hand, saying, yep all of you were right, I'm going to end up teaching anyways...and we all know with my stubbornness it'll take a lot to get me to do that.

Oh, how I long for the days of patrons...is there anyone out there willing to pay me/provide me shelter in return for a lifetime of short stories and poems?

Sunday again.

This past week I was feeling pretty buried in school and stressing about life. My quiet times were rushed and skimmed the surface, but then I decided to revisit Ecclesiastes. Such a good idea.

This book is written from the point of view of a great teacher who has pretty much seen/done it all and finds that most of this world is meaningless, or vanity. He does find meaning in life, though. I appreciated this verse: "A man can do nothing better than to eat and drink and find satisfaction in his work. This too, I see, is from the hand of God" (2:24).

Like this week: once I started letting go of all the things I was worrying about, things started looking up. I found a ride to Minnesota for a Project Reunion when it seemed I would be stranded in De Pere, my test on Friday did not leave me wanting to cry, I got a paper written way before it was due instead of minutes before having to turn it in...and I felt way more relaxed.

Then I got to spend the weekend with amazing friends! It was great to reconnect with my summer roommates, coworkers, and all the people I got to know so well. It was like we never left South Carolina! Eric and I even found a balloon from Ryan's (I'm still at a loss as to how it got there?) which led to shenanigan-reminiscing.

The only lament I have? Aaron Rodgers breaks my heart...

wasn't i supposed to write a paper tonight?

1. Do you sleep with your closet doors open or closed?
yes, they are either open or closed.

2. Do you take the shampoos and conditioner bottles from hotel?
yes, sometimes.

3. Do you sleep with your sheets tucked in or out?
they always come out so i've stopped tucking.

4. Have you ever stolen a street sign before?
negativo.

5. Do you like to use post-it notes?
i use them like a fiend.

6. Do you cut out coupons but then never use them?
every now and then. most of the time we use our coupons.

7. Would you rather be attacked by a big bear or a swarm of a bees?
ew ew ew. that wouldn't end good either way.

8. Do you have freckles?
nope.

9. Do you always smile for pictures?
ugh...i always make weird faces. it's a little obnoxious.

10. What is your biggest pet peeve?
ignorance? but i'm a hypocrite.

11. Do you ever count your steps when you walk?
not that i know.

12. Have you ever peed in the woods?
i'm sure it's happened.

13. What about pooped in the woods?
ladies don't poop.

14. Do you ever dance even if there's no music playing?
yes.

15. Do you chew your pens and pencils?
on occasion.

16. What kind of vehicle do you drive?
whatever kind people let me drive.

17. What size is your bed?
too tall.

18. What is your Song of the week?
anything by sufjan stevens.

19. Is it okay for guys to wear pink?
of course.

20. Do you still watch cartoons?
sometimes, yes...

21. Whats your least favorite movie?
alien vs. predator

22. Where would you bury hidden treasure if you had some?
in my bank account. :)

23. What do you drink with dinner?
water. milk. more water.

24. What do you dip a chicken nugget in?
no nuggets for me!

25. What is your favorite food?
gelato.

26. What movies could you watch over and over and still love?
The Little Mermaid? Pride and Prejudice.

27. Last person you kissed/kissed you?
mom/dad before coming back to school

28. Were you ever a boy/girl scout?
nope.

29. Would you ever strip or pose nude in a magazine?
nope.

30. When was the last time you wrote a letter to someone on paper?
Friday night! to Marina.

31. Can you change the oil on a car?
in theory.

32. Ever gotten a speeding ticket?
nope.

33. Ran out of gas?
nope.

34. Favorite kind of sandwich?
i love me some nutella. or peanut butter and honey.

35 Best thing to eat for breakfast?
banana pancakes.

36. What is your usual bedtime?
usually before midnight. i'm getting old.

37. Are you lazy?
i'm never too far from it.

38. When you were a kid, what did you dress up as for Halloween?
princess. witch. princess. crayon? princess.

39. What is your Chinese astrological sign?
i have no idea.

40. How many languages can you speak?
fluently? one.

41. Do you have any magazine subscriptions?
nope.

42..Which are better legos or lincoln logs?
legos all the way.

43. Are you stubborn?
you better believe it.

44. Who is better...Leno or Letterman?
Letterman, actually.

45. Ever watch soap operas?
ugh. no.

46. Afraid of heights?
not really.

47. Sing in the car?
yes.

48. Dance in the shower?
i have done this.

49. Dance in the car?
aaaa...yes.

50. Ever used a gun?
no.

51. Last time you got a portrait taken by a photographer?
senior photos? summer 05...dang.

52. Do you think musicals are cheesy?
they have to be.

53. Is Christmas stressful?
it shouldn't be.

54. Ever eat a pierogi?
no?

55. Favorite type of fruit pie?
cherry.

56. Occupations you wanted to be when you were a kid?
ballerina. something that allowed me to wear heels. doctor. gardener. taxi cab driver.

57. Do you believe in ghosts?
no, Mom calls them spirits.

58. Ever have a Deja-vu feeling?
haven't i taken this quiz before?

59. Take a vitamin daily?
yes.

60. Wear slippers?
to class.

61. Wear a bath robe?
no.

62. What do you wear to bed?
whatever i fall asleep in...sweats usually.

63. First concert?
oh jeez...Skillet? Or Coldplay.

64. Wal-Mart, Target or Kmart?
TARGET. always.

65. Nike or Adidas?
Converse?

66.Cheetos Or Fritos?
Fritos, yes.

67. Peanuts or Sunflower seeds?
sunflower seeds w/ shells.

68. Ever hear of the group Tres Bien?
i think so actually...

69. Ever take dance lessons?
yes. tap for a tiny bit and ballroom.

70. Is there a profession you picture your future spouse doing?
that's a weird question.

71. Can you curl your tongue?
yes.

72. Ever won a spelling bee?
in third grade.

73. Have you ever cried because you were so happy?
i think so.

74. Own any record albums?
no.

75. Own a record player?
no.

76. Regularly burn incense?
no. candles.

77. Ever been in love?
i'm in love with Jesus.

78. Who would you like to see in concert?
Michael Jackson

79. What was the last concert you saw?
Ben Harper in Roma.

80.Hot tea or cold tea?
hot unsweet. cold sweet.

81.Tea or coffee?
yes!

82. Sugar or snickerdoodles?
sugar.....

83.Can you swim well?
yes.

84.Can you hold your breath without holding your nose?
yes.

85. Are you patient?
um...most of the time.

86. DJ or band, at a wedding?
DJ

87.Ever won a contest?
yes. a coloring contest.

88. Ever have plastic surgery?
no.

89. Which are better black or green olives?
i like both, in moderation.

90.Can you knit or crochet?
knit my first scarf this past week!

91. Best room for a fireplace?
the library room.

92. Do you want to get married?
yes.

93. If married, how long have you been married?
n/a.

94. Who was your HS crush?
Orlando Bloom, Anakin Skywalker.

95. Do you cry and throw a fit until you get your own way?
i might, on occasion.

96. Do you have kids?
no.

97. Do you want kids?
yes, i think?

98. What's your favorite color?
i have a lot of blue things...but i also enjoy a good red every now and then.

99. Do you miss anyone right now?
lots of people!

i miss sugar!!

I have never craved milkshakes so much! I'm not even being as strict as I started out--I ate tortilla shells and popcorn--but I have not had any chocolate or cake or cookies. No Snickers that were available at my Writing Center meeting last night. No caramel apples that are sitting on our counter. Dang.

Other new things in my life are the two goldfish swimming around their new home in the apartment. Ariel saw that we had an unused glass bowl here and decided to give us a pair of goldfish for a house-warming gift. Now I get to hang out with Jack and Dora when I'm doing homework!

sugar fast update

I already cheated.

I want to be honest, this is way hard. And to be fair, I'm not trying to be legalistic so I'm not going to get too down on myself for not following this thing as strict as some might. I had pasta tonight, not whole grain, so there were your basic everyday carbs involved.

I'm counting today as a success, though, because I did not binge on the leftover apple cake on the counter or eat any of the frosting in the fridge or stick a finger in the Nutella in the cupboard--all things I have done on occasion and sometimes all on the same day. Or within the same hour.

sugar fast

That's right. I'm doing it, finally. I've been wanting to give up sugar for a while now but never actually did it...and I've decided it's time. I am doing a sugar fast for two weeks (I figured Halloween would be the perfect time to break a fast like this).

So starting today, no sugar for two weeks. Things I will be cutting out include:
-refined sugar (white and brown)
-white breads/crackers
-cold cereal
-things with sugar added (most fruit juices)

Which really leaves me plenty to eat:
-eggs
-vegetables
-fruit (I am allowing natural sugars)
-dairy
-nuts
-whole grains

I've done my homework so I know days 3-5 will be the toughest but once I get to day 7 I'm essentially home free. Also, fasts are traditionally times of spiritual/mental/emotional as well as physical purification and sacrifice, so every time I find myself craving sugar (essentially ALL the time) I'll take that as a chance to instead meditate or think about something outside of myself.
Halloween will mark the breaking of the fast. The plan is to go to Minnesota with friends from Summer Project for a reunion, perfect for breaking a fast--kind of like coming out of hiding back into the community.

Most people probably don't announce their plans for a sugar fast like I have but I find that A. J. Jacobs inspires me to do these things while simultaneously journaling about them and sharing the experience with others. :)

when i stay up late i have questions like this.

When did knowledge become a means to an end instead of the end in itself?

what i was made for

Today we got our tests back in Singles & Couples, my upper level literature course. For the essay part of the test we had to finish a play that Dr. Neary had set up for us, incorporating a number of characters from the 6-7 works we've read in class so far. That was my favorite part of the test, and to be honest I wasn't sure how well I did on the first short essay part, but no worries! I only had a point off the first part and I made up for it by getting extra credit on the creative section. Dr. Neary wasn't exactly offering extra credit on the test but he wrote that it was brilliant and he actually wanted to see it performed. :)

Thank you Jesus for giving me creativity & a passion for writing.

Reuniting!

This weekend was such a great time in Stevens Point, but it was a break from reality--no e-mail, homework (well, I didn't do the homework I have), or agenda--and now I have to face that reality tomorrow even though I'm not sure I'm ready. No Columbus Day for this woman.

When I got to Point on Thursday night, I was reunited with more than just my Project friends...I saw a friend from SNC who was there for Long Weekend as well, friends from CHS who go to Point, a friend from UWGB visiting for the weekend...it was truly a Small World experience.

On Friday we went out swing dancing and got caught up on everyone's lives. It was great to have so many Project people in one room, remembering our favorite things from the summer. Saturday was for taking a walk by the river, playing games, going out to Grazie's and watching a movie (with a projector and a giant white wall). Today we went to church and carved pumpkins (and ate cheesecake for lunch). I loved all the quality time we had and how we all reconnected so easily.

Now I get to spend tonight reconnecting with Andrea :) and then I have to think about those novels I was supposed to read for this week :( ...Thanksgiving Break anyone?

long weekend...because we work hard here!

Only two classes today instead of three...a couple hours at work...and then home! That's right, it's Long Weekend--the weekend of the year devoted to not doing homework, getting off campus, doing laundry, stocking up on food at home, and making people from state schools jealous. We're spoiled.

I was so excited last night I couldn't even sleep...I was like a small child on Christmas Eve. Today after work (4ish) I get to drive Greg and Andrea to the airport, where they will depart for Arizona, and then Rachel Schindler and I will make the two hour drive back to central WI.

I'll be home tonight and most of tomorrow, and then I'm headed to Stevens Point. There is going to be a small NMB reunion so I'll get to see people from this summer! I can't wait to see everyone...this time in sweaters and pants instead of shorts and swim suits and work uniforms.

Packing is almost done, now I just want to finish this book before I leave. :)

weekend list

This weekend I accomplished a number of things:

-Listened to Creedence Clearwater Revival. Obnoxiously.
-Learned CCR tabs.
-Read poetry.
-Attempted writing poetry.
-Wished I was a better poetry writer.
-Checked out four new books from the library in lieu of going to class.
-Knit.
-Watched The Kite Runner with Andrea.
-Got my laughs from mylifeisaverage.com.
-Watched the Chicago Bears make a touchdown off a punt return.
-Turned off TV.
-Helped Andrea bake cookies.
-Ate cookies.
-Started reading Dan Brown's new book, The Lost Symbol.
-Watched Saturday Night Live. On Sunday afternoon.
-Napped.

Grandmas and Brides

Shout out to Grandma! Happy Birthday and I love you!! (PS, Grandpa tells me the candy drawer will be stocked when I come home next week...) :)

In other news, one of my extracurricular activities this semester is being Andrea's Maid of Honor...honestly one of the best out of school things to be involved in. Andrea and Greg don't get married until the end of May (good thing because then I get to live with her the whole school year) but they already have most of the wedding planned: church, reception, caterer, photographer, florist, suits...and THE dress.

Tonight we get to pick up the dress, which took Andrea all of one day to find. I'm not going to go into too much detail (bad karma?) but it's from a little boutique so I'm guessing not many people have this dress. All of us bridesmaids knew it was the one when she tried it on--we loved it, Mom loved it, she loved it...plus the design is discontinued and it just happened to be exactly Andrea's size.

Now we just have to make room for it in our closet next to the watermelon and clover-colored bridesmaids' dresses. And we have to make sure no one spills the beans about what it looks like to Greg, who is very curious about this whole thing...

reminiscing

Technically the writing center is not open yet (thanks to some budget miscommunications we had to rearrange hours) but I figured if I pretended like I still had to open this morning I might actually get some work done. Not that I have a ton of work to do or anything, I just always feel pressured when I have some sort of unfinished work. This week and a half before long weekend has always been busy for me and this year is no different: I need to write a creative piece to submit to Graphos by Thursday, I have an art exam on Thursday, two papers due on Friday and another exam on Tuesday.

I still can't seem to get totally into school mode, though. None of these papers or quizzes seem real. I'll get them done, they'll be fine papers, but a part of me keeps thinking: the world won't end if I just don't write them. In the grand scheme of things, these papers and exams mean not a lot. It's not that I'm not learning anything in class or excited by what I'm learning--my classes are interesting. I guess I just feel really sheltered here at school. I'm in a bubble where nothing can hurt me and there is no danger.

Most likely I'm just thrown off balance after so many months of constant stimulation. Now it rains outside and I vaguely remember a time when I lived in a city where it always rained. I see a map of the US and my eyes are drawn to the southeastern region. Are people still riding the tram in Rome? How are the waves today in North Myrtle? Did I actually live in those places or were the last eight months of my life a dream?

And then I think it's just way too early to be thinking these things...I think I'll just listen to some Italian music and look at my pictures some more.

where did you go, weekend?

Almost five on Sunday and I feel like I've finally recuperated from the weekend. On Friday a group of us went to a Barn Bash (bonfire, food, games, wagon rides) and Greg, Andrea and I left from there to drive to Madison. We didn't get there until almost midnight, so after getting a condensed tour of Amanda's house we crashed.

I was up again by 7:30, though, getting ready to meet up with Bailey to volunteer at the Badger game. Once we realized that Amanda's house is pretty much next to Edgewood, we met for breakfast (cereal and COFFEE) at Bailey's apartment and then walked together to Camp Randall with Kelsey, a fellow volunteer.

As is usual on Badger Saturdays, Camp Randall was a flurry of red. Street vendors sold clothing, brats and cheese curds while people paraded to the entrance gates. Bailey, Kelsey and I sidestepped all of this, though, and headed for a discreet side entrance where we signed our names and received limited access passes.

Our job during the game was to fill racks of cups with soda (Coke and Diet Coke) and hand those to vendors who then took them out into the stands to sell them. These vendors were probably between the ages of 12 and 17 from the looks of them but conducted themselves like adults--tossing around phrases like "Give me a half-rack" and "Bad day for business; we need more sun" and handling cash like mini-investors. These kids buy a half or full rack for $30 or $60 and then sell it, bringing back the money for another rack. At the end of the day (which for them was after Jump Around--no vending during the 4th quarter) each rack was counted. The after school program who sponsored the vending station got a portion and the kids also got their own percentage of the profits.

By the fourth quarter our arms were sticky from soda but the Badgers were up and we got to catch some of the game before leaving to make the trek back to Bailey's apartment. Then we met back up with Andrea, Greg, Amanda, Julie, Steve and Tom to visit an apple orchard (no picking but we did find apples nonetheless) and find ingredients for dinner: a chicken/rice/pineapple/pepper dish.

We didn't get back to De Pere until about 11 last night and after a full day of soda-filling and visiting with friends all I could do was shower and climb into bed. Church time came way too early this morning, but I survived...and showed my true colors by curling up on the futon and napping like a champion this afternoon.

I had it coming.

I have a bruise on my arm.

I should be more precise: I have a bruise on the inside of my arm spreading out from a needle puncture. I tried doing my civil duty yesterday by donating blood, but while my iron count and blood pressure were fine, my veins just weren't in it.

Usually I find the mini-physical more stressful than the actual donation part--the finger prick for the iron hurts more than the needle I think. And I feel like it's a job interview where your body could get any question wrong and you are automatically disqualified. Iron too low? Out. Temperature too high? Out. Have you gone to remote countries lacking clean water and basic medicine practices? Out. Once my blood pressure was too low so they made me drink a can of Coke to raise it. I passed all the tests yesterday, though.

Then in the donation lounge chair (it's kind of a lounge chair...there are old ladies walking around bringing people water, you get to sit there while everyone does things for you) my nurse, Lynda, searched for a suitable vein.

"Did you drink any water today?"

"Yes..." I did, I drank more water yesterday than usual, I promise.

"Well, let's try this." And she did. Try, I mean. The needle went in and I waited for the warm feeling of my blood flowing through the tube taped to my arm. Nothing. She pushed the needle in...nothing. "We need Julie to come wiggle this," she said, calling her over.

I guess Julie is the expert on veins, and as she held the needle in one hand and felt my arm with the tips of her fingers I believed it. She looked at my arm and seemed to see through it; a quick twist of the needle and blood was flowing. Now the problem was the vein she found wasn't the swiftest flowing one. They let me sit for a while, telling me to squeeze the little stress ball hard each time. When they returned to check on my bag, though, it wasn't filling fast enough.

"I'm going to have to pull it," Lynda said. "Sorry."

I think I was more sorry--I felt like I wasted a bunch of their time and now I was going to go eat the food and walk out of the gym wearing the bandage and purple wrap like some sort of hero when I was actually a phony.

And today I wake up with a pretty purple bruise and a sore arm. Badge of honor? More likely just karma.

it's been awhile...

...but I've finally decided to get back on here and write. Since you've heard from me last:

-I moved into my apartment in De Pere with my lovely & engaged roommate, Andrea
-I started my senior year @ St. Norbert College
-I started work again @ the SNC Writing Center
-I got a haircut!

...and that's about it.

Just kidding.

The transition from Rome to South Carolina to home to school has definitely done something to me. I don't know if I have culture shock, reverse culture shock, senioritis or if I'm just getting old, but I have been feeling a tad out of sorts these past few weeks.

It took some time for me to get back into school mode, and I'm still not all the way there (although maybe I am because I'm definitely procrastinating like usual me). My classes are interesting for the most part, though, so that helps.

And as a co-senior consultant at the Writing Center I got the lovely job of creating the schedule, revising the schedule, and cutting hours from the schedule after realizing just how underfunded we are.

A lot of days I feel pretty stretched and if I don't write things down I forget them almost instantly, as if there are so many things and nothing for them to stick to inside my head. I've also developed a clumsiness that maybe I've always had and never before acknowledged, but either way it's kind of embarrassing. I run into things constantly--the futon, bookshelves at school...it's like I'm a little out of step with the world.

But despite always wondering where I am and how I got there (honestly, at least once a day I have to stop and think about these things), life is good right now. I don't want this to be a depressing return post--I really have little to complain about. I'm home-ish, I'm a senior, my hair is blond once again (and will be for some time...I promised Mom it would stay that way at least until next summer).

There are a billion other things I could mention now but my alarm is going to go off in about seven hours and I know it will be a much better Friday if I'm not wondering when nap time is. I'll be traveling to Madison this weekend to visit friends and the younger sister and I promise I'll be more specific about my life the next time I post.

PHOTOS!

Find them here: NMB 09

Beautiful Feet

Ah yes, back in the Midwest. I love that I no longer sweat when I go outside before 9 AM...though I do miss the beach. There are far too many words to say about this summer so I will not even try to wrap it up in this blog post. I can say I'll miss my Project friends like crazy and I hope the things I learned this summer stick. I know I learned a lot about myself- I feel much more patient, more okay with where I am in my life and less like I need to rush around trying to be something I'm not.

The last week and days of Project we focused a lot on what going back home and to school would be like. Here was our theme verse for the last week, a fitting one from Romans:

"But how are they to call on one in whom they have not believed?
And how are they to believe in one of whom they have never heard?
And how are they to hear without someone to proclaim him?
And how are they to proclaim him unless they are sent?
As it is written, 'How beautiful are the feet of those who bring good news!'"

[Romans 10:14-15]

Two Weeks.

Tomorrow marks the day each student on Project is supposed to hand in their two weeks' notice. Only two weeks of work left! I feel like I just got comfortable, just got settled into my routine of cashiering Monday-Wednesday, having off on Thursday, cashiering again on Friday, serving on Saturday, and off again Sunday.

I finally got the hang of the cash register, how it sometimes freezes up for a second when you ring up too many adult buffets and how it still features menu items that have been discontinued long before I started working at Ryan's.

I finally feel comfortable with my coworkers--Chris and Dot and their passive aggressive arguments, Rhonda's bouncy steps and hairdo full of colorful barrettes, Beverly's sharp attitude punctuated by her Jamaican accent, the way Cortillia slyly asks how I'm doing when she knows my section just got slammed, but then offers me some of her contraband candy. I know I'll miss Willie and Sam, the dishwashers, especially them calling me and the other women at work "Baby Girl" and "Darling" or "Pretty Mama" in the case of Miss Ellen, resident Grandma. I'll even miss Sylvia, who I can't for the life of me seem to please.

All of us here, whether we enjoy our jobs or not, are going to miss some parts of it. Some of the best times we have here are telling funny work stories. Like how all the Wal-Mart kids share the secrets of that mysterious corporation--its morning cheer for example. (Who's number one? The customer, always! What store is number one? 5087! What do we want to be? Accident free!). And then there are the fast food kids--the ones at McDonald's, Chick-fil-A and Wendy's--who love to brag about how many people they got through their drive through that day, how many sandwiches they made and wrapped, or the crazy milkshake creations they invented during down times.

Summer jobs are a funny thing that way--teaching us to make fun during slow boring days and entertain ourselves when our job gets monotonous. There is a song we like to listen to here--Swing Life Away--that has this line: "We live on front porches and swing life away./We get by just fine here on minimum wage." It speaks truth to all of us minimum wage workers--we are getting by just fine. And we only have two weeks left to make the most of free french fries, getting paid to watch people on vacation, and trying not to laugh when we can't understand Southerners.

Feeding the Faith

Last Saturday's community event was one of the best this summer. The community team brought us Christmas in July--complete with mashed potatoes and stuffing. They revamped the Grassy Knoll with wrapping paper, streamers and pine cones and called it the North Knoll and we even had our own Santa of July. We made snowmen out of our own team members (our team's looked more like a white tin man but we did get runner up!) and had a "sleigh ride" (pulling people on a tarp across a field).

Then we kicked off "Feeding the Faith" week. The theme verse is 2 Peter 1:5-8: "For this very reason, make every effort to supplement your faith with virtue, and virtue with knowledge, and knowledge with self-control, and self-control with steadfastness, and steadfastness with godliness, and godliness with brotherly affection, and brotherly affection with love. For if these qualities are yours an are increasing, they keep you from being ineffective or unfruitful in the knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ."

As a part of the P & WV team, I helped set up a prayer walk we did on Tuesday around North Myrtle. We also sponsored a 36-hour prayer/meditation vigil and had someone out in our prayer tent continuously from Wednesday morning at 8 until tonight at 8.

Another new event here on project is our Wednesday night concert series. There is a bar/dance club not far from us that has live bands every night and on Wednesday an 11-year old girl named Gabbie Rae sings. A bunch of us go listen and support her each week, and she now recognizes us. I don't know what the bartender thinks of us--we all order soda or water and then just dance/sing along or play pool--but we have a lot of fun. And Gabbie Rae is good! She has been on the Tyra Banks Show--check her out here!

Oh yes, and I have to say happy birthday to Quinn today and Mom tomorrow!! Just so you guys know, everyone here knows it's your birthday. :)

Agape & Answering the Call

Last week was the week our staff left and the theme was "Agape," which is Greek for love, but a specific kind of love--self-sacrificing, unconditional, consuming love.

We had an Agape Dinner on Thursday where we encouraged each other were encouraged by staff before they left for the summer. Now that the staff is gone, we are student led until August.

So far this week, "Answering the Call" week, we have all stepped up into our various roles. We have four new student project leaders (one of them is my roommate!) and then each apartment has a Bible study leader and everyone else belongs to a certain team, each with team leaders. My team is the Prayer and World Vision team; we explore different ways to pray, especially as it applies around the world.

Our weekly schedule is basically the same; the only change is planning meetings on Tuesdays for each team and we do more intentional exploring on Sunday afternoons when the beaches are full of people (not so much high schoolers anymore, now we get a lot of vacationing families).