Learnin "Banana pankcakes" on the guitar...
Annie Dillard's "The Writing Life" itching to be read...
Just downloaded some Manu Chao and National...
Room begging to be cleaned...
Hello, Sunday afternoon.
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
I am currently eating:
-lettuce
-hummus
-a big ole carton of blueberries
-feta cheese,
all gloriously mixed into a salad bowl. Whenever the weather starts getting warm, I start craving lettuce and tomatoes. Inside feels like a trap. Today was one of those days: it felt like 70 degrees, the sky was a perfect blue, and there was a steady, invisible humming outside of grateful people and grateful animals. While Jane got her hair done,, I walked around Woodley Park. I saw two old men in sweater vests standing in front of an old-fashioned barbershop, waving their hands and talking to eachother in rapid Italian. Saw the National Cathedral for the first time today. I knew it was a big church but I didn't know how big. It's enormous- it looks like a Gothic castle! People were sprawled out on the lawn, soaking up the sun, studying, and talking. I laid out and smelled the grass for the first time this year. It was amazing, self gratuitous, and free.
The girls came home, rushed through their homework, and went right over for a playdate. They played outside for hours and didn't even touch the Wii. Talked to my mom and am getting ready to see Sara at the Quarry House, a dive bar in Silver Spring.
It's days like this that make me feel like I'm back in Sevilla, walking around in the sun, lying on the grass, and watching people pass by. Three years ago, I was there, but sometimes it feels like I've never left.
-lettuce
-hummus
-a big ole carton of blueberries
-feta cheese,
all gloriously mixed into a salad bowl. Whenever the weather starts getting warm, I start craving lettuce and tomatoes. Inside feels like a trap. Today was one of those days: it felt like 70 degrees, the sky was a perfect blue, and there was a steady, invisible humming outside of grateful people and grateful animals. While Jane got her hair done,, I walked around Woodley Park. I saw two old men in sweater vests standing in front of an old-fashioned barbershop, waving their hands and talking to eachother in rapid Italian. Saw the National Cathedral for the first time today. I knew it was a big church but I didn't know how big. It's enormous- it looks like a Gothic castle! People were sprawled out on the lawn, soaking up the sun, studying, and talking. I laid out and smelled the grass for the first time this year. It was amazing, self gratuitous, and free.
The girls came home, rushed through their homework, and went right over for a playdate. They played outside for hours and didn't even touch the Wii. Talked to my mom and am getting ready to see Sara at the Quarry House, a dive bar in Silver Spring.
It's days like this that make me feel like I'm back in Sevilla, walking around in the sun, lying on the grass, and watching people pass by. Three years ago, I was there, but sometimes it feels like I've never left.
Thursday, February 10, 2011
thursdaysss are almost as good as fridays, more understated yet quietly hip
One of the great things about living in DC and working for a refugee agency is all of the cool people you come into contact with on a regular basis. Yesterday, I got to take one of the loveliest clients in the world, Leyla, to the DSS to figure out how to get her food stamps. While the PG DSS is one of the LEAST lovely and most frustrating places on the planet, Leyla is always smiling, always positive, and incredibly patient. For the two hours we waited in the waiting room, I studied for the GRE and she read a children's English book. Never once did she complain or look frustrated. After we got her food stamps reinstated, she told me "Thank you" with a smile full of gratitude. This is a woman who has had family members die, who had to flee from the Congolese war, one of the hotbeds for gender-based violence, a woman who is living in poverty, yet she still manages to smile and be grateful for every little thing she has.
THEN, in a second dose of African awesomeness, I saw the movie "Pushing the Elephant" last night at a new, independent theater in DC called West End Cinema. The movie followed the story of Rose Mapendo, a Congolese woman who was seven months pregnant when the war broke out in 1998. Her husband, her seven kids, and herself were all put into a death camp. Her husband was killed immediately, and she gave birth to her twin boys on the concrete floor of the prison. She and her family lived in the death camp for fourteen months, and then escaped to a refugee camp, where they then went on to be resettled in the US. The movie is about her reunion with her 17 year old daughter, Nangabire, who she hadn't seen in 13 years. The movie also follows Roses' work with her organization, Mapendo International, and her work helping foster peaceful dialogue between women in conflict regions. You can read more about the organization here:
www.mapendointernational.org
More info about the movie, which is playing on PBS in March, and is coming out to DVD in April, is here.
http://www.artsengine.net/pushing_the_elephant/
Her courage, her incredible strength and love, and her ability to forgive and triumph, is incredible. I left the small theater filled with hope that people like her exist.
Today has been pretty good. I'm about to go over to the girls house. They are starting to get a little snarky. One taped the other's mouth shut during homework time yesterday when I was folding laundry. I gotta step up my A-game and have eyes on the back of my head. They are constantly making me laugh. My favorite quote of theirs from yesterday is:
"Old people are so cute. They look like teddy bears."
Tonight is my second GRE class, and then I'll go to IHOP to get a Make A Face pancake with one of my favorite people from Birthright. THen, this weekend will be filled with delicious New Orleans food with friends, the pups, and, possibly some yoga and dancing. I haven't shaken my tailfeather in quite a long time, and frankly, it needs to happen.
LOve and happy Thursday,
Andrea
THEN, in a second dose of African awesomeness, I saw the movie "Pushing the Elephant" last night at a new, independent theater in DC called West End Cinema. The movie followed the story of Rose Mapendo, a Congolese woman who was seven months pregnant when the war broke out in 1998. Her husband, her seven kids, and herself were all put into a death camp. Her husband was killed immediately, and she gave birth to her twin boys on the concrete floor of the prison. She and her family lived in the death camp for fourteen months, and then escaped to a refugee camp, where they then went on to be resettled in the US. The movie is about her reunion with her 17 year old daughter, Nangabire, who she hadn't seen in 13 years. The movie also follows Roses' work with her organization, Mapendo International, and her work helping foster peaceful dialogue between women in conflict regions. You can read more about the organization here:
www.mapendointernational.org
More info about the movie, which is playing on PBS in March, and is coming out to DVD in April, is here.
http://www.artsengine.net/pushing_the_elephant/
Her courage, her incredible strength and love, and her ability to forgive and triumph, is incredible. I left the small theater filled with hope that people like her exist.
Today has been pretty good. I'm about to go over to the girls house. They are starting to get a little snarky. One taped the other's mouth shut during homework time yesterday when I was folding laundry. I gotta step up my A-game and have eyes on the back of my head. They are constantly making me laugh. My favorite quote of theirs from yesterday is:
"Old people are so cute. They look like teddy bears."
Tonight is my second GRE class, and then I'll go to IHOP to get a Make A Face pancake with one of my favorite people from Birthright. THen, this weekend will be filled with delicious New Orleans food with friends, the pups, and, possibly some yoga and dancing. I haven't shaken my tailfeather in quite a long time, and frankly, it needs to happen.
LOve and happy Thursday,
Andrea
Monday, January 31, 2011
Ecuador and Snow!
I'm up at 3:25, waiting to talk to the Boyfriend, who is nicely driving his brother, J, and his brother's girlfriend, K, to the airport. Afterwards, J and K will embark on their first ever international trip together, to Cancun. We are supposed to get an icy winter blast here this Tuesday night. J and K will, hopefully, be sipping margaritas and getting tanned while we Washingtonians deal with this impending snow and ice in the only way we know how: by writing long letters of complaint to Pepco, by flooding into the nearest supermarket and stocking up on food, on buying pounds and pounds of salt, and by updating our Facebook/Twitter statuses constantly so that they read something like "OH NO THIS SNOW IS RUINING MY LIFE! I AM FREEZING/DYING/NOT ABLE TO WATCH JERSEY SHORE." Obama himself essentially told the DC region to grow a pear last year, during our very own Snowpocalypse. He said that this is nothing compared to Chicago so, really, we need to buck up.
I've enjoyed being a refugee in Boyfriend's home all weekend. Our power went out Wednesday and returned Thursday night. For reasons unbeknownst to me, the power decided to go out AGAIN in the middle of a tranquil Friday afternoon. So, I packed a down blanket into the heatless wild beast that is my car, Old Faithful, and drove to Frederick, to the land of electricity and heat. My weekend consisted of homecooked meals, Forrest Gump, and a Boy Scouts roller derby with J's seven year old nephew. Boy Scouts are so jovial- all front teeth and gumption and nerve. His nephew's car did well in the first round (first of four), which was good. Before the race, he was biting his upper lip and looking quite worried, like he was about to fail a test. Good thing his camouflage Army tank seemed to triumph.
Good news from the Peace Corps front:
I've been invited to teach secondary English in ECUADOR in June 2011! I've known about this for about a month now and still have trouble believing it's true. The Parentals have reacted in an overly joyous manner, mainly telling me that it is going to be my duty to "take them to the Galapagos."
I joined the Peace Corps Ecuador Facebook page. The members post incredible pictures. I am amazed by the flowers and the plants they take pictures of. Some of the petals look like they were dreamed up by Dali or Picasso or John Lennon during his LSD days. They look supernatural- almost like they have a mind of their own. I've begun reading about the fruit in Ecuador. Apparently, being so close to the Amazon, they have fruit that is completely foreign to the American palette, such as passionfruit. I can't wait to get there and try it. I can't stop thinking about everything- about what it will be like to once again live with a host family...will my host mother be telepathic and ALWAYS KNOW WHAT I AM THINKING like Maria Teresa? Will I have privacy or not? Will I be in the mountains or on the sweltering coast or in the jungle, with monkeys as neighbors? The Peace Corps makes it clear that we will not know our site placement until we finish our three months of Pre-Service Training in the capital, Quito. This means I have little clue of what my living environment will be like, or if I've packed for the correct environment. But, neither will the other PCVs in my group, so it should be a grand, ole adventure.
It's hard to think about Ecuador too much because of how far away it is. The ice and snow on the ground here and the constant business of life keep my mind from thinking about it too much. I've been nannying for three girls since November, two 9 year old twins G and T, and their 13 year old sister M. M has recently friended me on FB and texted me this weekend, thus capping off my strange friendship with her. I want to protect her from all the harms of adolesence, to tell her to think about homework more and boys a little less; I want to tell her that the "weird" kids in her grade may actually be worth talking to and that she doesn't need to wear thongs yet. Nannying has been a good experience- tiring, but in a strange way, it makes me feel more competent. There's nothing like having to get two girls in full hockey gear in 10 minutes and then navigate them to practice to boost your sense of efficiency.
I'm looked up Maya Angelou today. I've got to read "I know why a caged bird sings." I did a project on her in sixth grade, but I didn't realize until now all of the people she married, all the countries she lived in, all of the jobs- from prostitute to dancer to writer to actress- she has had. Truly, a magnificent woman.
That's all for now. I'm going to call J now to wake him up on his long car ride back from BWI.
Until next time,
A
I've enjoyed being a refugee in Boyfriend's home all weekend. Our power went out Wednesday and returned Thursday night. For reasons unbeknownst to me, the power decided to go out AGAIN in the middle of a tranquil Friday afternoon. So, I packed a down blanket into the heatless wild beast that is my car, Old Faithful, and drove to Frederick, to the land of electricity and heat. My weekend consisted of homecooked meals, Forrest Gump, and a Boy Scouts roller derby with J's seven year old nephew. Boy Scouts are so jovial- all front teeth and gumption and nerve. His nephew's car did well in the first round (first of four), which was good. Before the race, he was biting his upper lip and looking quite worried, like he was about to fail a test. Good thing his camouflage Army tank seemed to triumph.
Good news from the Peace Corps front:
I've been invited to teach secondary English in ECUADOR in June 2011! I've known about this for about a month now and still have trouble believing it's true. The Parentals have reacted in an overly joyous manner, mainly telling me that it is going to be my duty to "take them to the Galapagos."
I joined the Peace Corps Ecuador Facebook page. The members post incredible pictures. I am amazed by the flowers and the plants they take pictures of. Some of the petals look like they were dreamed up by Dali or Picasso or John Lennon during his LSD days. They look supernatural- almost like they have a mind of their own. I've begun reading about the fruit in Ecuador. Apparently, being so close to the Amazon, they have fruit that is completely foreign to the American palette, such as passionfruit. I can't wait to get there and try it. I can't stop thinking about everything- about what it will be like to once again live with a host family...will my host mother be telepathic and ALWAYS KNOW WHAT I AM THINKING like Maria Teresa? Will I have privacy or not? Will I be in the mountains or on the sweltering coast or in the jungle, with monkeys as neighbors? The Peace Corps makes it clear that we will not know our site placement until we finish our three months of Pre-Service Training in the capital, Quito. This means I have little clue of what my living environment will be like, or if I've packed for the correct environment. But, neither will the other PCVs in my group, so it should be a grand, ole adventure.
It's hard to think about Ecuador too much because of how far away it is. The ice and snow on the ground here and the constant business of life keep my mind from thinking about it too much. I've been nannying for three girls since November, two 9 year old twins G and T, and their 13 year old sister M. M has recently friended me on FB and texted me this weekend, thus capping off my strange friendship with her. I want to protect her from all the harms of adolesence, to tell her to think about homework more and boys a little less; I want to tell her that the "weird" kids in her grade may actually be worth talking to and that she doesn't need to wear thongs yet. Nannying has been a good experience- tiring, but in a strange way, it makes me feel more competent. There's nothing like having to get two girls in full hockey gear in 10 minutes and then navigate them to practice to boost your sense of efficiency.
I'm looked up Maya Angelou today. I've got to read "I know why a caged bird sings." I did a project on her in sixth grade, but I didn't realize until now all of the people she married, all the countries she lived in, all of the jobs- from prostitute to dancer to writer to actress- she has had. Truly, a magnificent woman.
That's all for now. I'm going to call J now to wake him up on his long car ride back from BWI.
Until next time,
A
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
ch ch ch change
So the job in Rockville is officially ending on December 24th. The lady who had her baby is coming back. I can say that I will actually miss it!! I'll miss the people, I'll miss the location, I'll miss everything. It will be nice, though, because then I can clear my roster for the Peace Corps! I can't imagine what it's going to be like to hold the invitation that says "YOU ARE INVITED TO SERVE IN ______________ FOR THE NEXT 27 MONTHS. YOU LEAVE IN TWO WEEKS. KAPICHE?"
Life is unstagnating. Thanksgiving is a few days away, replete with turkey, the Jews, the Christians, the aunts, uncles, cousin's babies whose names I forget. It's the only time of the year that I see about a third of my family. What does that say about interreligious families? The cultural divide between me and some of my cousins is huge- they've gone to religious Jewish schools their whole life, they've never worn pants or played sports. But, at the core, most are chill people. Still, it's staggering that at my age, most of them were married and/or new mothers.
Life is unstagnating. Thanksgiving is a few days away, replete with turkey, the Jews, the Christians, the aunts, uncles, cousin's babies whose names I forget. It's the only time of the year that I see about a third of my family. What does that say about interreligious families? The cultural divide between me and some of my cousins is huge- they've gone to religious Jewish schools their whole life, they've never worn pants or played sports. But, at the core, most are chill people. Still, it's staggering that at my age, most of them were married and/or new mothers.
Monday, November 1, 2010
On Hoarding, and Halloween
My new favorite show would have to be Hoarders. I thought Intervention was as good as it could get, but A&E outdid themselves with Hoarders. I am scared of how similar I am to some of these people. They have messy lives and messy houses that continue to get messier. They accrue stuff, let it pile up and up and up until they cannot walk through most of the rooms. One women had a room filled with her feces from her diapers. One women collected birds, and they shat everywhere and she still didn't want to see them go. Other people had houses so messy that repair people couldn't get inside to fix TVs, phones, or toilets. Yet when the junk removal teams come in to begin hauling this useless crap out to the dump, most of the hoarders become extremely frightened and agitated. Some hang on, work it through, and leave with a clean house. Others stall as long as possible and thwart the effort all together.
I think I am a slight hoarder. My room is roughly the size of Harry Potter's closet in the Dursley house, but still, it is a constant mess. Right now I hardly have any clean room on my floor. After typing this, I feel the urge to clean it a tad before I go to bed, but even so, the mess always creeps back. I don't want to be That Adult with the filthy house so I really need to get better about cleaning this room. I have very little space and few storage options, and i keep telling myself that it's only for a few more months so why start caring about it now. But since my stepmom is the Wicked Witch of Bumfuck Tennessee, I spend most of my time in this house here, or in my sister's room. Its my messy solace, but it provides me with little respite because of the constant clutter. Maybe I need to do what the hoarders do: get rid of everything I don't need- like most of my books, the swim team ball El made me that takes up so much room. Then I would paint it lilac. Then I would INSTALL WALL SHELVES, buy a loft bed, and get a big bookshelf. This would make my room beautiful but could cost $400, which is a LOT of money for me. Preschool teaching ain't paying well.
Ohh that is another thing. I am teaching preschool. I've been doing it for two months now, as a long-term sub for a woman whose broken leg injury was supposed to keep her out a month, but has kept her out far longer. I love the women I work with and the kids. They do fun things like run up to me and hug me with shining eyes. Then, two seconds later, the same hugging angel hits another kid and steals his Barney guitar, leaving me to console the crying kid and yank the guitar back from Hyde. At two, the kids look different every Monday. They constantly learn new words, new songs, and new names. And they LOVE repition. I will spend an hour playing a tame version of Hide and Go Seek with them, and every single time I pop up to scare them they squeal with delight. It's funny how distinct their personalities are- there is the precise kid who, when eating cereal, holds the spoon in his mouth and clamps down with his hand as guard, so that no milk will escape. There is the kid who is CONSTANTLY drooling. There is the kid who will only eat carbs and absolutely NO fruit or vegetables. They are all so different at such a young age.
At the end of the day, I am beat from playing, watching, scolding, making snacks, and changing diapers. It is the best birth control in the world, because they are exhaaausting. I don't know how moms even have time to brush their hair with these little tykes running around. I get stressed out being the aunt to two dogs. How do people raise humans?
I have two other jobs but my interesting one, my internship, involves working with asylees and refugees. It is SO absorbing. A meeting with a client could mean the difference between them finding child care or not. Or health insurance or not. Or a job or not. So there is no way to slack off, because if you slack off, they miss out on a vital service and struggle even more than they are already struggling. I love it. If I could work for this nonprofit forever, I would be content.
Other than that, life is fine. I'm trying to do more to spice it up. My wanderlust is getting the best of me, but the Peace Corps process is moving about as slow as the health care bill did in Congress. The PC dentist and I are obviously BFFs. I call him by his first name when I call the 1-800 number and say "It's Andrea," because I figure he must know who i am since he keeps rejecting my application. Then he gets confused becaues he, of course, has no clue who "Andrea" is, and probably sends my case to mental health to have them evaluate this delusional loon. I WANT TO GO TO LATIN AMERICA NOW! At this point, it is three month away. I have ONE more dental appointment and then all the cavities should be sealed. He has nothing else to reject me for. I hope that this will be IT for the dentist.
At least my friends are keeping me sane. Yvette and I got notecards today to write Thank You notes, and last night i saw Matt and Hernan in full drag, and Antoine in a purple pimp suit, before they went out to Georgetown to frighten young children. Justin and I carved Jack O' Lanterns and that was the first time in years I made one. He tried to make a confused one and I made an Italian one. One good thing about an All-American boyfriend is they are all about the tried and true Amuurrican traditions, like taking out a pumpkins guts and carving an offensive face on it. U-S-A!
That is all for now. Today is officially November 2nd, Election Day, so GET OUT AND VOTE. Every vote makes a difference. Please do. George Washington will smile down on you and your skin will glow with the freedom of democracy. You will shit justice. GO vote.
I think I am a slight hoarder. My room is roughly the size of Harry Potter's closet in the Dursley house, but still, it is a constant mess. Right now I hardly have any clean room on my floor. After typing this, I feel the urge to clean it a tad before I go to bed, but even so, the mess always creeps back. I don't want to be That Adult with the filthy house so I really need to get better about cleaning this room. I have very little space and few storage options, and i keep telling myself that it's only for a few more months so why start caring about it now. But since my stepmom is the Wicked Witch of Bumfuck Tennessee, I spend most of my time in this house here, or in my sister's room. Its my messy solace, but it provides me with little respite because of the constant clutter. Maybe I need to do what the hoarders do: get rid of everything I don't need- like most of my books, the swim team ball El made me that takes up so much room. Then I would paint it lilac. Then I would INSTALL WALL SHELVES, buy a loft bed, and get a big bookshelf. This would make my room beautiful but could cost $400, which is a LOT of money for me. Preschool teaching ain't paying well.
Ohh that is another thing. I am teaching preschool. I've been doing it for two months now, as a long-term sub for a woman whose broken leg injury was supposed to keep her out a month, but has kept her out far longer. I love the women I work with and the kids. They do fun things like run up to me and hug me with shining eyes. Then, two seconds later, the same hugging angel hits another kid and steals his Barney guitar, leaving me to console the crying kid and yank the guitar back from Hyde. At two, the kids look different every Monday. They constantly learn new words, new songs, and new names. And they LOVE repition. I will spend an hour playing a tame version of Hide and Go Seek with them, and every single time I pop up to scare them they squeal with delight. It's funny how distinct their personalities are- there is the precise kid who, when eating cereal, holds the spoon in his mouth and clamps down with his hand as guard, so that no milk will escape. There is the kid who is CONSTANTLY drooling. There is the kid who will only eat carbs and absolutely NO fruit or vegetables. They are all so different at such a young age.
At the end of the day, I am beat from playing, watching, scolding, making snacks, and changing diapers. It is the best birth control in the world, because they are exhaaausting. I don't know how moms even have time to brush their hair with these little tykes running around. I get stressed out being the aunt to two dogs. How do people raise humans?
I have two other jobs but my interesting one, my internship, involves working with asylees and refugees. It is SO absorbing. A meeting with a client could mean the difference between them finding child care or not. Or health insurance or not. Or a job or not. So there is no way to slack off, because if you slack off, they miss out on a vital service and struggle even more than they are already struggling. I love it. If I could work for this nonprofit forever, I would be content.
Other than that, life is fine. I'm trying to do more to spice it up. My wanderlust is getting the best of me, but the Peace Corps process is moving about as slow as the health care bill did in Congress. The PC dentist and I are obviously BFFs. I call him by his first name when I call the 1-800 number and say "It's Andrea," because I figure he must know who i am since he keeps rejecting my application. Then he gets confused becaues he, of course, has no clue who "Andrea" is, and probably sends my case to mental health to have them evaluate this delusional loon. I WANT TO GO TO LATIN AMERICA NOW! At this point, it is three month away. I have ONE more dental appointment and then all the cavities should be sealed. He has nothing else to reject me for. I hope that this will be IT for the dentist.
At least my friends are keeping me sane. Yvette and I got notecards today to write Thank You notes, and last night i saw Matt and Hernan in full drag, and Antoine in a purple pimp suit, before they went out to Georgetown to frighten young children. Justin and I carved Jack O' Lanterns and that was the first time in years I made one. He tried to make a confused one and I made an Italian one. One good thing about an All-American boyfriend is they are all about the tried and true Amuurrican traditions, like taking out a pumpkins guts and carving an offensive face on it. U-S-A!
That is all for now. Today is officially November 2nd, Election Day, so GET OUT AND VOTE. Every vote makes a difference. Please do. George Washington will smile down on you and your skin will glow with the freedom of democracy. You will shit justice. GO vote.
Monday, August 9, 2010
2AM
Hello 2 AM. We meet again. The fan is blaring and I'm listening to "Young Blood" by The Naked and the Famous, who, besides having an awesome band name, are actually pretty good. Half of the song's lyrics are a high pitched "Yeah yeah yeah yeah" and the other half is filled with angsty lyrics about being young and screwing the man. Ooh now Louis is playing. Good old Louis Armstrong. Did you know he wore a Star of David around his neck and loved the Pope? He was like a modern-day Pi Patel. I wish I could marry his voice. Hold me close, Louis, hold me close.
I wish I had new exciting shiny stuff to update but it is all pretty mundane. The Census job ended two weeks ago. I know it sounds lame but I honestly, truly LOVED what I did. We met in Panera every morning. I worked with teachers, phD students and former Peace Corps volunteers. We sat around the table talking about cases for 10 minutes and then talking about anything from ghosts to strippers to politics for the next hour or so. I loved going door to door to talk to people- my natural nosiness and eye for detail was put to good use. I loved getting to see all the different neighborhoods of Montgomery County. I even liked the time I tried to walk up to a house that was either owned by a drug dealer or gang, but was warned by another neighbor not to go there because "very bad men live there." It was like being a sleuth in a movie. A Census Sleuth. Knocking on the Truth's door. Finding out the population. Conquering message-machine-avoiders and shade-drawers.
The Peace Corps process is going lovely. By lovely I mean I would like to rip my hair out of my head and light it on fire. It is moving at the same pace as Pat Robertson's speeches: extremely slow, and I never quite know what is going on. After three long appointments with my dentist, I got the X-Rays. I mail them in only to learn that they want the original copy of the X-ray, even though I was told on the phone that the copies are fine. The Peace Corps website says we should use this opportunity to practice our PATIENCE SKILLS. Being patient is pretty difficult in the DC Area. If you hesitate to make a turn, you get a honk. If you wait too long in the line at Starbucks, you get a bunch of yuppies clearing their throats loudly while the barista looks at you, saying "Excuse me maam what can I get you?" Patience doesn't fit in to people's Blackberrys and Metro commutes. It is a skill I seldom, if ever, use.
But I'm finding patience to be more and more necessary, not just for the Peace Corps. For life. I look around and see friends moving into apartments with people their age, friends buying bunnies and even dogs, and friends getting married. People are growing up. They are becoming adults, paying rent, starting 401 Ks, and procreating. And I am sitting in my sister's room, unemployed, in my dad's house . It's not the life I envisioned for myself at 23. I thought I'd be wearing a lot of black and working in some human rights organization by now. I'd visit Sephora and Anthropologie regularly and have my own apartment and bulldog. But as for now, it's shared living space with the Olds. No hang out room. No parties. No little bulldog. Just an ice queen stepmom and a neurotic Jewish mom father. So instead of going crazy, as I often want to do, I have to be patient. Hopeful. Jesse Jackson said "Keep Hope Alive" and I do it, day after day. I think about the people with no homes and food, people who don't have anyone to talk to and watch the Shopping Channel all day, and then I feel better. Because it's easy to feel like a 20 something burnout but really, many of us are all in the same Great Recession boat. I'm not grown up, but I am hopeful. It's a start to a lonng ride.
I wish I had new exciting shiny stuff to update but it is all pretty mundane. The Census job ended two weeks ago. I know it sounds lame but I honestly, truly LOVED what I did. We met in Panera every morning. I worked with teachers, phD students and former Peace Corps volunteers. We sat around the table talking about cases for 10 minutes and then talking about anything from ghosts to strippers to politics for the next hour or so. I loved going door to door to talk to people- my natural nosiness and eye for detail was put to good use. I loved getting to see all the different neighborhoods of Montgomery County. I even liked the time I tried to walk up to a house that was either owned by a drug dealer or gang, but was warned by another neighbor not to go there because "very bad men live there." It was like being a sleuth in a movie. A Census Sleuth. Knocking on the Truth's door. Finding out the population. Conquering message-machine-avoiders and shade-drawers.
The Peace Corps process is going lovely. By lovely I mean I would like to rip my hair out of my head and light it on fire. It is moving at the same pace as Pat Robertson's speeches: extremely slow, and I never quite know what is going on. After three long appointments with my dentist, I got the X-Rays. I mail them in only to learn that they want the original copy of the X-ray, even though I was told on the phone that the copies are fine. The Peace Corps website says we should use this opportunity to practice our PATIENCE SKILLS. Being patient is pretty difficult in the DC Area. If you hesitate to make a turn, you get a honk. If you wait too long in the line at Starbucks, you get a bunch of yuppies clearing their throats loudly while the barista looks at you, saying "Excuse me maam what can I get you?" Patience doesn't fit in to people's Blackberrys and Metro commutes. It is a skill I seldom, if ever, use.
But I'm finding patience to be more and more necessary, not just for the Peace Corps. For life. I look around and see friends moving into apartments with people their age, friends buying bunnies and even dogs, and friends getting married. People are growing up. They are becoming adults, paying rent, starting 401 Ks, and procreating. And I am sitting in my sister's room, unemployed, in my dad's house . It's not the life I envisioned for myself at 23. I thought I'd be wearing a lot of black and working in some human rights organization by now. I'd visit Sephora and Anthropologie regularly and have my own apartment and bulldog. But as for now, it's shared living space with the Olds. No hang out room. No parties. No little bulldog. Just an ice queen stepmom and a neurotic Jewish mom father. So instead of going crazy, as I often want to do, I have to be patient. Hopeful. Jesse Jackson said "Keep Hope Alive" and I do it, day after day. I think about the people with no homes and food, people who don't have anyone to talk to and watch the Shopping Channel all day, and then I feel better. Because it's easy to feel like a 20 something burnout but really, many of us are all in the same Great Recession boat. I'm not grown up, but I am hopeful. It's a start to a lonng ride.
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