Next Chapter: Blogless

JUNE... Really!?

I started this blog as a documentation of my transition to DC in June of last year. Has it really been that long?

In some ways it feels like it was yesterday, but in some ways it feels like another lifetime. My life is certainly different in a multitude of ways and its hard to believe that so much can change in a year.

The other day I sifted through some old journals and blogs. I was trying to remind myself what life was like a year, or two years ago. The emotions I felt, the activities I participated in, the struggles I was dealing with, the things that filled my life... I had a really hard time accomplishing my goal. It was nearly impossible to erase all that has happened for a few moments and put myself in that person's shoes.

Who knows what it all means, I have given up on understanding the method behind the madness.

Although I am sure I will continue to take "next steps" and enter "new seasons," I have a feeling it might be time to close this chapter.... label it "transition" and move on. Who knows what the next chapter will be titled, or what plot changes in may entail. Who knows... maybe I will be inclined to start a new blog to document it, but don't hold your breath... I am a little blogged (and twittered and facebooked) out at the moment. So, as I close this chapter, I close this blog.




:(... I know, I know.

Risk and Reward

I am not much of a risk taker. In fact, most of the time I go out of the way to eliminate risk completely from the equation if it is possible. Anyone who knows me would not hesitate to agree that I am not particularly adventurous, and not necessarily spontaneous. I am a organizer, I am a creature of habit. I plan and place my life very strategically...

For example, if I have a deadline ahead of me, I artificially construct another deadline for myself and treat it as the real one. This way I am always on time (if not early)... Basically, I am the opposite of a procrastinator. Obviously, this effects things like work and school primarily... but I am beginning to see the effects of this mentality and these mannerisms on other aspects of my life.

I have a fear of heights, flames/fire (or even extreme heat)... In reality, I think it's more like a fear of falling and a fear of getting burned. I avoid certain sports that usually involve my own injury, I stay out of water because I get ear infections, I avoid prolonged sun exposure for fear of sun burn, I don't like to be poked because I bruise easily. Now, all of these things may include a good bit of common sense... but you might notice a trend... I don't like to be physically hurt, so I try to eliminate the risk. Going in the sun does not HAVE to equate to sun burn, playing volley ball doesn't mean I WILL jam/break a finger, ridding a water slide does not mean my ear WILL get infected (although, that one is likely).

Finally, I have recently been confronted with the reality that this effects my relationships as well. I don't like to be hurt, (I mean...who does?) so I am pretty strategic in who I invest in. When risk is increased, I tend to move away. When I feel like I might be hurt, I emotionally remove myself from the relationship. I have done this repeatedly with friends for whom I have some reason to mistrust, I completely distance myself and form this shell of a friendship. I don't even bother moving beyond a shallow interaction with people who I don't feel like will fully accept me. This has manifested in several ways... whether I feel the person is too 'cool' or attractive to be friends with me, or too different to relate to me (or vis versa), I give up before I even start, determined it is not worth the risk. I also typically avoid needy people... again, setting yourself up for trouble.

Again, some of this is reasonable and practical. BUT....

Then there are those people that you really invest in, the relationship you have to really put yourself out there for... it's terrifying to me. It's almost easier for me to cut and run sometimes than to imagine how much risk is involved.

This is what I am learning though... yeah, the risk is hard to take, but the reward is pretty darn great.

I guess there are times in your life where you have to seriously evaluate, and even if the risk doesn't always seem worth it... we have to put some faith in God. We can only see so much, we can only see so far. We have no idea what the outcome will be. Our feeble human minds can make calculations based on experience, but little else. Sometimes we have to take a risk, even if there is no known reward.

God's reality, His ways aren't always going to make sense... but I guess we just have to remember that no one loves us like He does. Then we have to give up on our crummy calculations and start taking some steps in faith... walk out on that water. :)

Influence

In my last post I mentioned some pretty familiar names, some big 'influencers' in the world... Mother Theresa, Ghandi, Martin Luther King Jr. and Nelson Mandela have managed to have an influence of MANY people worldwide their work in changing the world, and making it a better place.

Pastor Mark asked us a question this week in church... Who has had the greatest influence on you? Chances are it's someone that I have never even heard of.

Sometimes its easy to glamorize the people who accomplish some big, well-publicized task, and we forget the value of everyday people who accomplish great things all the time. It easy to forget that the people who really make a difference do so on a personal level through relationships.

Obedience is key. Like I said before, we just have to focus on this 'love' thing and if we really digest and apply it, our lives would be changed. We may not make headlines for solving poverty or world peace, but we WILL effect peoples lives... We just have to make sure it is for the better.

How I decided to pursue becoming a little Christ

I said the sinners prayer when I was eight.
I didn't really take ownership of my faith until about ten years later, when I really asked myself the question... what does it mean to be a 'Christian'?

Growing up in church culture I had head/seen/used the word in many forms. It seemed to mean someone who went to church, read their Bible and prayed. Someone who probably didn't drink, smoke or cuss. All the people I knew who called themselves Christians squirmed at the mention of sex, and especially homosexuality. Every single one of them voted Republican. I mean, at least the real Christians did. Mostly I just heard the word 'Christian' used as an adjective you attach to things... You know, a magazine, a book, a radio station or a CD. At 18, I was confused... did Christianity even exist outside church buildings and Christian bookstores? Cause everything else seemed to be a little sketchy to me. All this talk about 'the world' and avoiding it was confusing.

I opened my bible to Matthew and started reading... what does it mean to be a Christian? Well, first thing... did you know they Jesus never used the term Christian? Apparently it was a name that people started to identify Jesus' followers after he left earth, while they were going around preaching and healing people. They called themselves followers of The Way. (Combine that name with all the rumors flying around about how they ate flesh and drank blood and you could imagine the level of confusion that arose. Sounds super sketch, huh?) Anyway, people started calling them Christians, which literally means 'little Christ's'. Apparently there was some controversy surrounding the title because the followers of The Way didn't necessarily think they were worthy of such a tittle. But, apparently something about them must have resembled Jesus' life one earth, because otherwise they wouldn't have been given the name.

Obviously, it stuck. It seems to me that the meaning has been diluted over the years. Not only do we throw the title around without serious consideration for it's true meaning... we started calling objects 'little Christ's'... you know, magazines... CD's. I don't know about you, but I am more than a little uncomfortable calling a person a little Christ, much less assigning the title to a piece of paper.

So, what does it mean to be a Christian? Well, It seems to me the direct definition is to BE a little Christ... to follow the example Jesus set, and live life as he demonstrated for us and how he told us to while he was here on earth.

...If only that was a simple task.

While I was reading through Matthew, the subsequent gospels and then the writings of Paul, I took very specific notes. I listed everything that gave me guidance on how to live.

Yeah, it was a LONG list. An entire notebook to be exact.

But you know, as I started to analyze this list I realized that I had been doing it pretty wrong. The focus had always been on what we are not supposed to do. But after careful consideration I had a thought, maybe we should weigh things by how much Jesus said them. See, it seems to me that Jesus is trying to tell us to DO something... I mean, he repeated it over and over. It seems like he wants us to love, and not just people at church... but everyone. Once I realized that I started to think about what that would mean. If we really loved people, most of the rest of the stuff we are supposed to do would come as a by product. Similarly, it seemed like the stuff we are not supposed to do probably wouldn't happen as much. And you know what else is funny, he didn't seem to go to church very often.

At 18 I was finally evaluating my faith and I discovered something a little surprising.. I was going to like being a Christian. Like most, I had become disenchanted with church politics and religion. I was looking for something that gave my life purpose and it seemed to me that Jesus did that. I mean, what better thing to live for than love? I started thinking about all of the people I admired in the world... you know, Mother Theresa, Gandhi, MLK, Nelson Mandela... What did they have in common? Well, They lived for a purpose beyond themselves. They put themselves in harms way, gave up material possessions and did what was right. They helped people, they demonstrated something real, something I could get excited about living for.

The more I thought about it, the more I realized that Jesus was even better than all of them. He was truly selfless, the only one capable of really loving unconditionally. Suddenly, I realized that I wanted to be a little Christ! I mean Jesus was a pretty sweet dude, If I could be half the person he was I will change the world. But, you know what... I realized that don't have to. All I need to do is love people and show them God loves them too. All I have to do is change a few people's lives by showing them what is real worth living for. ... I will leave the changing the world stuff to the pros.

Where did it all begin?

Someone asked me the other day why I have such a passion for traveling, Africa, and modern slavery. It was a reasonable question... I mean, I grew up in the same state, same county, same small town, even the same house. Most of my family hasn't even left the country except for a few Caribbean ports from a cruise ship. I was homeschooled, only exposed to a limited cross-section of people on a daily basis. Pretty sheltered. My parents are really into politics... I didn't grow up around much poverty or even awareness of slavery or human trafficking. It's a good question. How in the world did I end up here?

Today I was browsing wikipedia, thinking about how interesting this paper I am writing on African dictators is going to be. It's a great opportunity to wrap my head around the political progression of the continent after colonialism... and then I thought, why the heck do I care!?

When I was asked that first question I gave a patched-up response... maybe it was the fact that I grew up in a church that focused on world missions and constantly exposed me to the work of people around the world and the needs they were trying to meet. Maybe it was the fact that my Aunt and Uncle moved to Kenya when I was about 10 to plant a church. My grandparents decided to go visit them and I begged to tag along. So at 11, my first time on a plane (much less my first time out of the country) was to Africa. Maybe it was the fact that most of the kids I grew up with went on missions trips, mostly with this crazy organization called Teen Missions International which sent you abroad for more than a month in the summer. Not about to be left behind, I went the first year I was of a reasonable age. So... before I turned 15 I had been to 3 continents.

It wasn't until years later that I would mentally solidify my interests and decide to pursue them professionally, but I had caught the bug. People look at you differently... when a 15 year old can tell stories of her train journeys across Scandinavia and straddling the equator in Kenya, they earn a new level of respect in people's eyes. I had already seen more than the rest of my family combined and I loved every minute of it. Part of it was pride, part of me decided to attach these things I had done to my identity. I mean, what teenager isn't searching for somewhere to belong, something to belong to?

But I discovered something else, I was willing to make great sacrifices to travel. I was willing to give up a lot to take another journey and have another experience. The exposure is what led to my direction. It's not like I woke up one day and decided to care about world hunger... seeing people in need, REALLY in need... changes you. I just reached a point where everything else seemed kind of meaningless. Every other endeavor, every other career path I could imagine that did not include helping those people I had seen suffering, seemed ridiculous and miserable.

Anyway, I embraced it. Started taking every trip I could and my life goals started to revolve around these experiences and desires. Next thing you know, I am in grad school in DC studying world peace (well, something like that).

I am still not sure how it all happened. I wake up some mornings in shock, wondering how I got here. But, I love what I do. I even love what I study (heh... I just don't care for tests and papers).

I may not be able to point to a logical reason why I have this passion, but I have no doubt that it was strategically placed in me, and I am not complaining.

Three days until we are reunited....

Hormonal Rant

Sometimes I am amazed by the human body. OK, let's be more specific... sometimes I am frustrated at my own female body and it's vulnerability to hormone changes.

Let's not beat around the bush... we all know that about once a month, each female goes through a hormone imbalance that can lead to a mood swing, increased sensitivity and overactive emotions. I am one of the lucky few who rarely experiences a significant mood-based effects. But these things come at a trade off. For example, I don't get cramps... but I get nausea.

So what am I stuck with in exchange for my relative emotional stability during these cycles? Well, It's slightly awkward... but I had surgery awhile back and had to go on 'the pill' for a few months. At first I was unaware of the side-effect... but my family spotted it early on. I might not have extreme mood swings on a monthly basis, but the entire time I was on the pill was one GIANT mood swing (obviously, this doesn't bode well for my future). I didn't really believe them (them being my family and their insistence that I was imbalanced and not just reasonably frustrated at the stupidity of people) until I went off the pill... suddenly I just felt much more pleasant, more satisfied with my life and in general, less irritated at the people around me. Hm, maybe they had a point?

Recently I made a trip to the dermatologist who prescribed me some antibiotics for my skin. These pills are a relative to birth control. Having been on them before, I did not anticipate a problem. I am still not completely convinced... but in the last 24 hours I have cried 3 times and gotten more frustrated at multiple people than I can remember getting upset at in the last 6 months or so! Not a good sign, eh?

Well, only 28 days of pills left to go. :)

Like I said, I have been on these meds before... now I can't help but wonder if some of the issues I dealt with last spring were compounded by this medication. Hmmm....

It's really interesting to me, how hormones can so drastically effect you mood, but more specifically your responses to people and events. Generally, a even-keeled person (I mean, I *think* I am) I am astonished to realize I can so easily be transformed into an emotional wreck by one comment or even just the tone of a voice. These episodes of spontaneous tears have baffled me... the same situation just a week ago would have resulted in a shrug of the shoulders and MAYBE a disapproving sigh... certainly not an outburst of liquid emotion and subsequent brooding.

I know the female body is designed this way for a reason... but let's be honest, it sucks. No one wants to be transformed into a hormonal mess and no one wants to deal with someone when they have been transformed to such. You know, with all of the medical advances we have made, you would think someone would have figured out a way to get this under control. In the meantime, I guess I need to get a dose of some reality and some more Jesus in my life to help keep these hormones under wraps.

Feel free to steer clear :)

Who really cares about paradigms, traditions and theories? How about we talk about how to actually fix the problems in the world!?

Sometimes it feels like the goal of education is to create clones. OK, maybe not education per say, but school. I mean, let's evaluate. How do you do well (I.E. get good grades)? Well, I would know because I have this art mastered... you figure out what your teacher wants and you give it to them. Now, I don't mean doing the assignments and following directions... I mean the process of evaluation you have to go through to gauge a teacher and identify what topics/methods/styles they are drawn to.

This semester I had a realization... I don't want to be like my teacher. I don't want to write like my teacher, I don't even want to think like my teacher. When I gave up trying to write a paper FOR my teacher, and completed the assignment it like I would write it on my own (regardless of who was grading it), and in a way that actually reflects my ideas and in my own style... that actually made me CARE... I stopped doing so well.

But, I refuse to do it anymore. I refuse to pretend to be something I am not. If I can't get perfect grades being who I am, caring what I care about and not pretending to care about things that I don't, then I will live with my lower GPA thank you very much. I am never going to be an academic or care about political theory. I am never going to intelligently discuss hugely vague philosophical topics without tangible application. I am never going to throw big vocabulary words and theoretical concepts into class discussion. And honestly, I don't want to be that person. EVER. I kinda like who I am... and we certainly don't need a world of people trying to prove their academic superiority. And we certainly need some people wired to actually APPLY these ideas instead of just discussing them all day.

It's really frustrating to me that the most valuable and liberating aspect of our lives, the gift of education which is supposed to allow us to be who we are and pursue what we love, has been diluted with systems which break down your individuality.

Rant ended.

You Can Do It

I just finished registration for the fall semester. I am happy to report I was able to get into all of my first choice classes. I will spend the majority of my semester focusing on African conflicts and politics... couldn't ask for much better than that.

Day 1 on grad school.... I looked around the class. Those in their first semester had been asked to raise their hands... a method of singling us out in some sort of sick game to make the first day even more awkward and intimidating than it already was. I gave a longing glance at my neighbor. A dark-haired professional looking female, appearing to be in her mid twenties. She seemed to have it all together, large notebook opened and highlighters posied, she just seemed comfortable here. I felt like a pony at the rodeo. It was her second year. It was like 4th grade all over again, staring at the middle schoolers... thinking how much bigger and more mature they seemed, wondering if I would ever make it to 6th grade, or get boobs.

Somehow, it appears I have almost completed my first year. As I consider my second, I laugh at the ridiculous impression I started grad school with. That girl? Turns out she is just as lost in my ethics class as me. Turns out she hates her job and she gets pimples too. So HA!

Umm, well... it also seems that grad school is only as hard as you make it for yourself. It turns out that schooling can actually be about learning and not about getting a grade. The grad school grading curve gives you a choice... you can either take it seriously, get your moneys worth and try and learn something... or you can hobble through in a state on numbness turning in half-hearted assignments. (this semester I chose the later path, but I am hoping to upgrade.) The truth is, either way you will probably get the same grade.

Day 1 of second semester? I plan on making eye contact with that brand new anxious, over-achiever... I may even pat um on the back and say "You deserve to be here. If I can do it, you can do it."

Spring Inspired Office Fever

I have never had such a hard time sitting still. It could have been the 6 hours I had spent planted in front on my computer screen listening to an overly-peppy instructor explain the most tedious and basic tasks of data entry as if we were 4th graders… or it could have been the way the sun came in through my 7th story window enticing me to go outside and enjoy its warmth. It didn’t help that I could make longing glances a lone tree, starting to reveal its lovely cherry blossom blooms amidst the otherwise bland mess of concrete within my view.

Spring carries new meaning in DC. On the coast the only major difference we experienced between winter and spring was very slightly greener grass (more from the increase in rain than the shift in weather) and the occasional azalea bush blossoming for a week before dropping it’s pink blooms onto the ground. The sandy ground only really grows evergreen pine trees and half-dead grass year around.

DC experiencing a drastic transformation where lonely and bare branches are quite suddenly flooded with pastel blossoms ad miraculously the color of the entire city is transformed.

I’m not exaggerating.

Along with the change in color, comes a change in mood. DCers emerge from their homes and cars and start roaming the streets, parks and monuments. BUT only temporarily, for alas… starting this weekend any locals will retreat public places as the city is bombarded with tourists of all types. They stay about a month I am heard, until the cherry blossoms disappear. That’s right… we get approximately 3.5 days to enjoy the onset of spring before we must return to our homes and bunker down until the end of the tourist invasion. Or something like that…
Doesn’t quite seem fair to me.

Regardless, it will be hard to remove the joy of spring as even the simplest task… commuting, grocery shopping, gazing out your office window… all will be enhanced by the multitude of cherry blossom trees so nicely disbursed throughout the city…. Even in the areas tourist don’t venture. We may only have a few, but we cherish every one.

Providence?

There has been a lot of talk of providence recently. Sometimes life lines right up in a way we would never expect and we can see how we have been guided to this point.

That's it... I mean, everything that happens to us DOES bring us where we are, to WHO we are.

It's almost like a giant puzzle. One day we get a new piece put in place and we see a bit more of the big picture.

Sometimes I dwell on the future for just a minute longer than I should and I wonder, what the image will look like in a year, or five.

Later Life of Leisure

I took the plunge a few months back... from full-time employee to full-time student. It was quite an adjustment. I went from the one with no free time, to having more than I knew what to do with. But, of course... it wasn't long until I found ways to fill my days. Now I am completely accustomed to leisurely weekdays. I have even learned how to sleep in and how to completely waste time... random trips to target, spontaneous baking... you name it. Unfortunately, that makes it harder to transition back into the work world. Now, I will be a full-time employee AND a full-time student.... hmmm, I wonder how this is going to work out?

The good news is I will not have a heavy school load until the fall and I am only working 6 hours per day in the office. So, there is no reason I can not handle this... right? I mean people do this all the time, even people with families to care for!

Yesterday was my last weekday of freedom. I checked everything off of my to do list... my taxes, an oil change, a doctors appointment, etc. When exactly am I going to get this stuff done from now on, I am not sure. But somehow, I think I will manage.

I am actually looking forward to regaining some productivity. I am a highly efficient person who has fallen prey to some laziness with all of this free time. I am especially looking forward to having a steady paycheck once more.

I have kind of been prepping for the transition for the last few weeks... making less commitments, kinda scaling back on my social calendar. Didn't want to shock my system. We will see how that worked out for me. heh.

DreamLife

I am known for having strangely detailed, vivid and bizarre dreams. Like the time I dreamed about my entire future from each of my five kids career paths to the way I decorated my retirement home on the waterfront in downtown Wilmington. Yea, that detailed.

My dreams are very inconsistent though... I have vague and foggy ones as well. It's a mixed bag really. What I don't often have is "bad" dreams. Or anything really negative even. I had a nightmare once, when I was around the age of 12 and all it really involved was a fall into a never ending black hole... I have avoided watching Zorro every since (don't ask). I have had a few dreams where I am being chased, but it never seems like the situation is that serious as I usually find myself a nice cozy corner to crouch in, or a cabinet to crawl in to, and I am happy. (Hmmmm....what does that mean?)

But what I had night before last (Tuesday, early morning actually), was a new thing entirely. I have had friends who have dreams effected by their physical body, for example a friend who would dream she only had one leg if she fell asleep with her legs crossed. But I have rarely heard of people's bodies being effected by their dreams. But maybe, I am just sheltered.

In my dream I received such bad news that it physically hurt, so much in fact that it woke me up and until I realized it wasn't reality, I continued to feel the pain. It would be one thing if it had been a physical injury... but it was an emotional pain. Strange, huh?

What was even stranger was the way it effected me. It wasn't necessarily on my mind throughout the day, but my mood was certainly altered. Melancholy... sensitive... emotionally unstable...

I mean, it was just a dream. But something about it seemed so real. It FELT so real. It makes you wonder, how much of our dreams is really based on reality or at least a possible reality? How much of our dreams stem from our hopes and fears? I tend to think they are random... and if you had my dreams, you probably would as well... but sometimes I have to really question it.

Anyway, in the future I will try not to let dreams control my mood. Somehow, I don't think it's healthy... or fair to the people around me who have to put up with it.

SNOW DAY

Yesterday we awoke to a wonderful 6' blanket of snow... adventures ensued: http://www.vimeo.com/3449537

Unfortunately, I was suffering from some minor frostbite that kept me from fully participating. Instead I spent 90% of the time rotating my ankles and wiggling my toes on alternate feet to maintain feeling in my lower exterminates. Regardless, it was quite enjoyable. :)

Here's a link to the Facebook album as well: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2005796&id=108800682&l=81c46

Bittersweet Gratitude

I had it all planned... the last few days I have been coming to terms with the awesomeness that is my life and feeling amazingly grateful and blessed. I was going to write this glowing blog entry full of reasons why all of my dreams have come true and how God has given me more than I ever even hoped. And then it happened....

I am going to maintain my MO of being strategically vague and elusive, because it didn't happen to me and it isn't my place to share.... but it kind of rocked my world. It reminded me of the uncertainty of life and of love... you think you know, but you don't necessarily have a clue.

Divorce seems like the most tragic thing to me. Something you thought would last forever comes to a screeching halt. I can't imagine being blind-sighted by the person you love and have decided to sped your life with, it must feel ridiculously horrible. Something with the permanence of marriage (although I know it doesn't have much of a societal permanence at this point) just being taken away...

It really makes you question things. How can you know if something is going to last? How can you know if love is real?

Well, regardless of my mental shift I have A LOT to be grateful for and I think it would still be a good idea to share them:

1. I live in an awesome city. This is amazing on a few levels... one, that after my first attempt to leave NC, I have found resounding success. Two, I was able to make my way to the 'big' city, like I always wanted (although DC was not high on the list) with diversity in culture, ogles of opportunity, and yet it still feels small enough to be communal on some level. I never would have guessed DC would be such a great place. I also never would have thought I could feel so at home here in such a short amount of time.

2. I am in freakin' grad school. How did this happen? I used to hate school... I was basically pulled kicking and screaming to the finish line for my bachelors and yet something possessed me to take it to the next level. I am still in shock whenever I realize that I will be able to put MA next to my name in a little over a year.... not that I would though, that would be lame.

3. I live in community. Sometimes when I get up in the morning now I am so overwhelmed I can hardly stand it. It's hard to really describe or put a finger on, but I love living with people and around people and formulating this loose communal, neighborhood bond. I love the fact that people are over to my house all the time... I love the fact that we eat meals together regularly. I love the fact that people are always playing instruments and singing. I love the fact that I am surrounded by artistic people who can share and create together.

4. I have an awesome J-O-B. When in think back to the reason WHY I came to grad school... it was because I wanted to make the move from domestic nonprofit work to international. I wanted to work in an organization that was doing hands-on work abroad. I wanted the opportunity to travel and to feel like I was making a difference on the issues that matter to me in, and outside the US. DC is a rough town for jobs... it's highly competitive and everyone is trying to break in this market. My end goal was to get in the door of a nonprofit working with child soldiers, or the bigger issue of modern slavery. I was worried it wouldn't happen. Well, graduation day is still a year off and somehow that has already happened. And the paychecks will start coming soon... I am blown away.

5. I have the most amazing friends and family. Both here in DC and back home I am surrounded by people who continue to amaze me and show me unconditional love and acceptance, whether I deserve it or not. Sometimes I can't believe that I have so many people to call... so many people who would drop what they are doing to help me when I am in need. So many people who have invested in me and in my life and made me who I am.

6. And the moment you have been waiting for (this is for you Joe)... I have the most amazing boyfriend ever. When I came to DC, a lot of people 'knew' I would meet someone... I wasn't so sure, but I guess they were right. I am so thankful that someone like Ryan even exists, because I wasn't always convinced. Even though I feel completely inadequate to be in a relationship, I am thankful he has the patience to let me learn as we go and to just... be there, supporting me when I need him and encouraging me to be *ahem* reasonable, and a better version of myself.

Ok, so that's the end of my book on gratitude... to be honest at this point I am living the life I always wanted and I feel like I have nothing to complain about. It's overwhelming really. It's also good to be reminded that it's only by God's grace and mercy, and that things won't always be so perfect... The upside is that each trial has a purpose, the purpose of making me into who I need to be... that better version of myself. So, I am choosing to be thankful for what I have now, thankful for what I have been through to get me to this point, and aware that I don't deserve any of it. Because if God wants to take it all away tomorrow, if that's what needs to happen... I mean, it will suck... but...

Employment

... and so it begins. My period of unemployment was enjoyable while it lasted... sleeping in, enjoying leisurely walks, immense amounts of free time for hanging, movie watching, cooking/baking, and pilates. All good things must come to an end. I guess I should be more joyful, I mean I can finally stop depleting my savings, maybe even make some purchases (a much needed macbook) and pay off some school debt... but I am beginning to feel that income might be more restricting than it is liberating.

Money is a funny thing. It can bring security, opportunity... but it can quickly consume you. And I don't mean in a "I have to have more!" sort of way, it just makes you more aware of your financial situation and therefore, if you are anything like me, more concerned (most likely, needlessly). Even though I made NO money during the last 7 months, I worried about monetary issues less than I have in a long time.

March 16th marks a new day, a new job. I am very thankful for the opportunity, it is perfect for me and my stage in life. I am thankful for the income which might enable me to eradicate my debt sooner than planned. It will be interesting to see how the balance works out... with working 30 hours, going to school full-time and having a social life. I have been able to balance a lot before, but I have become lazy in my time off and I am out of practice. Let's just hope psycho-planner Laura stays under wraps. :)

4o+ days of Lent

I can’t say that I have ever participated in Lent before. I have certainly fasted, but not necessarily within the bounds of the 40-day season leading up to Easter. I have taken part in a few media fasts in my day, I have even gone whole-hog and given up all food for periods of time (I am pretty sure I have never made it more than a week). I have also had dietary restrictions… (but never for Jesus.)

Food and I have an interesting relationship. I go through phases… I can experience everything from complete control of my eating habits to the absence of anything resembling control. Although it may not manifest itself in immense weight gain… I can certainly lose the capacity to make wise choices or curb my cravings for baked goods.

Self-control is a fruit of the spirit. It is a pretty vital aspect of health, and spiritual growth. After realizing that my newfound access to a well-equipped kitchen and the ability (long denied me) to bake all kinds of goodies, I realized that my cravings for sugary desserts and sweet carbohydrates had gotten just beyond my control.

Hence, I have begun my first 40-day Lent-ian adventure into the world of self-denial and (hopefully) control. The list is long (no alcohol, caffeine, white starches, dairy…) and completely doable. I mean I used to eat this way by choice… but only 48 hours in, I must admit that it is harder than I thought it would be. I had become more accustomed to dietary anarchy than I had realized. I have found myself craving things I don’t even like, or haven’t eaten in years… I wanted to tear a bagel out of a friend’s hand… I really want the spaghetti served at a random restaurant back home that closed more than 5 years ago… Oh, and sopapias… I forgot they existed.

Anyway, I refuse to indulge my fat-kid mentality by dwelling on my illogical cravings any longer. Instead, I will focus on the happy thought of hummus, at least it is still allowed.

The truth is, I already feel better. AND, I am sure a few more days in and I won’t believe that I had fallen so far of the self-control bandwagon.

The hardest part will be the lack of cheese… oh, how I love thee.

So, in the vein of spiritual discipline, I am supplementing my denial with an addition, or maybe just the attempt to regulate what I already do. I have become slack at (prayer) journal writing and such, and I desire to make it a daily practice yet again.

So this Lent I hope to come out the other end a slightly improved version of myself. We will see how that works…

Either way, at the end, my first meal is going to be a Flaming Amy’s burrito. No joke.

Another Way America Has it Wrong

I had no idea how hard it was to live by yourself... until I started living with people again.

It was a strange transition. Moving from NC, where I had ALWAYS lived, and lived with 2+ people, I didn't know what was affecting me more... the new city, not knowing anyone, still getting established, stress of grad school, stress of no income, finding an internship... It was impossible to pick out the effects of living alone and separate them from any number of reasons for emotional distress. Now, that I live in with people again (and on a whole new level of 'community'... BUNK BEDS, 'nuf said), I am beginning to realize how much living alone had affected my psyche. I am not made for it.

So, pardon my "Blue Like Jazz" reference... but Donald Miller has a few things to say about the importance on living in community and I am finding new appreciation for them, and their validity. Community is entirely undervalued in our society. I can't even count the number of people who said one of the following when I informed them of my new living arrangement:

1) "I love living by myself, I don't want to live with roommates again... you know, until I get married"
2) "I could never share a room!"
3) "You better be sure you will get along with your roommates, especially if you are sharing a room"

Now, I understand that independence carries a unique level of value in American culture, especially in comparison to most of the world, which is communal in nature, but I am not convinced it is a good idea. It's like Donald Miller says... living with people teaches you how to live with people.

When I read the three statements above, I realize the level of selfishness that is acceptable, and even encouraged in our society. If we can't live with other people, even people we won't always see eye-to-eye with... what does that say about us?

Anyway, I think I have made my point without rambling on in some self-righteous rant. The moral of the story: I like living with people.

... and on a lighter note.

Last night in class we watched the documentary Taxi to the Dark Side. It's the story of an Afghan taxi driver who was in the wrong place at the wrong time. He was picked up during a sweep, as were his two passengers, and instantly detained without charge. He was effectively tortured for weeks in Baghram until he eventually died from extensive tissue damage in his legs. The guards say they would knee prisoners in the thigh when they were combative. Admittedly, the MP's say that the taxi driver spent too much time crying and praying and it was annoying them. It turns out he had no connections to any known terrorist or terrorist attack. He just had some bad luck.

Since 9/11, we have detained over 38,000 people... and only a few of them have had charges brought against them or a trial (and not until very recently). It appears that many of them were interrogated using vile tactics. I could go into details about the methods used, but for both of our sakes... I will not.

Watching this movie was not my ideal way of spending my evening and it certainly didn't leave you with much emotional at all, except anger. The thing is, the filmmakers want you to blame the Bush administration. (And DO NOT get me wrong, I do... Ultimately they were the enabling factor in this equation that led to these extensive human rights abuses.) The thing is, we have to look beyond the administration and ask ourselves a question... How did we get to this point? How did we let this happen? Our government is a response to us. Ultimately, we hold responsibility for what happens.

I used to be a huge 24 fan. I mean, honestly I still watch it... just not the with adamant fervor I once did. I realized one day that the fact that Jack Bauer could get me cheering for him to pull someone's finger nail off, really disturbed me. Media does a good job of desensitizing us in many ways, this is not the least of them.

In Taxi to the Dark Side, they interviewed some interrogators who had been prosecuted for Abu Ghraib. All of them stated that they had not received proper training and were really unaware of what was expected of them, except one thing: get the information. They called the detainees PUC's (prisoners under custody) and readily admitted they went to great lengths to dehumanize them. They didn't have names, they had numbers.

I know I might have a radical view, but I believe that every human begin is born with basic human dignity, that has rights. Human rights, as they exist today in international law, are actually based on scripture! It doesn't matter whether they speak your language, have your skin color or religion. It doesn't matter if they are poor or are dressed funny... they are just as human as you are and they should be treated as such.

We all know by now that information collected through torture is unreliable and invalid in a court of law. We all know that it's illegal and we all know that its 'wrong'... but a large percentage of Americans seem to believe that circumstances exist where those rule smuts be broken and something must be done. I mean, just ask FOX... their ratings are through the roof. Is media to blame? Does media change perception or reflect perception? Should I feel guilty for enjoying TV for it's entertainment value? Should we demand a better standard form our television?


I don't know... What comes first, the chicken or the egg?

Well, statistics show us that the % of Americans who think that circumstances exist where torture is necessary has increased dramatically in the past decade. The question is whether that has anything to do with media, or with the actual state of the world and the events of 2001 and the war on terror.

Anyway, I can't offer any answers. In fact, I don't even know that I will stop watching 24, but I hope that at the very least, I will not be rooting for Jack when he decides to take an interrogation too far. At least, not any more...

Kickoff

Who won the Super Bowl? Well, in my opinion it was a decisive victory for Flaming Amy's, whose amazing salsa goodness made the night very special for some unsuspecting DC residents. I was lucky enough to receive a special delivery from my mom who had made the journey northward to help me move this weekend. Obviously, feeling generous... Mom also surprised with another amazing gift... a brand new waffle maker! What are you doing Saturday morning? Well, I am making WAFFLES!

Today has been an amazing relief. I think that I was beginning to think that my stressful state during the last few weeks was semi-permanent. But, after a great night's rest on my own mattress (for the first time since I moved to DC), a good breakfast, and a super easy/short commute to my internship... I am loving life living in NE.

I just feel good... like relieved and satisfied. Peaceful. I have left a phase of life behind and I couldn't be more ready to explore the next one.

After only a few hours of residency, we held a Super Bowl watching party at our place... which turned out to be a lot less about watching the Super Bowl than socializing. As it should be, in my opinion. The only reason I even kept track of the score was to inform my little brother, who was driving back to NC, of the games progress.

Evidence of my Dorkiness

So.... I know I probably don't need to provide a concise list as proof, I mean... I am sure you are all fully aware of my dork-like qualities, but for both of our amusement, I present the following list of reasons:

1. I would rather listen to NPR than watch TV: I have been this way for awhile... It makes me feel smart.

2. I was an avid teenybopper back in the day... I even have photographic evidence that my walls used to be plastered with boy band paraphernalia.

3. My macked out work computer back in NC had not one, but two giant screens. It's not like I was editing videos or anything...

4. I have more autographs from Contemporary Christian Artists than I would like to admit... (let's put it this way... they don't really fit in the file box I have them stuffed in). Worst part? most of them are on 8x10 glossies... yea, I know.

5. I taught computers to my classmates in first grade. I knew more than my teacher.

6. I have begun to think it tweets. You know... I am on my way to work and I think "Laura doesn't understand commuting traffic."

7. Laura likes to pretend she doesn't... but she totally watches One Tree Hill, even though it's gone to crap.

8. I was totally excited when my Facebook friends went over 300, as if that really means anything...

9. I still have a myspace.

10. My favorite songs to sing are either from Disney Movies or a 90's sitcoms (Little Mermaid to Family Matters!).

The Mall Effect

(Now it's my turn to write a blog inspired by yours, Amanda.)

Marketing 101: Your goal as a marketer is to convince your target consumer that what they have is not adequate and they need your product to be happy.

Honestly, I aced marketing class without even trying. The only reason I didn't pursue marketing (considering it merges multiple interests and skills I have) is that I honestly didn't think I could live with myself. A career or selling people the idea that their lives are insufficient with out some... item or service, seemed doomed to create misery and serious guilt.

This Sunday Pastor Mark spoke about what he termed 'The Mall Effect'. Basically, it's the same idea... you don't even realize you your closet is lacking something until you go the mall and realize that you are in need of an entirely new wardrobe. I have fallen prey to this trap, just like most.

It really is a trap... a set of strategic efforts on the part of advertisers which are designed to confuse you. To make you think that your happiness is dependent on what they have to offer you.

The REALLY sad part is it can work, at least in the temporary sense. I am one of those people who tends to resort to shopping when I am depressed or feeling self-conscience. I have worked hard to curb this habit over the years, but I still fight the urge pretty regularly. But that feeling of have a new item, it really does make you happy (at least it makes ME happy)... but of course, it fades with time.

I guess this is where we should distinguish between happiness and joy. Happiness is the feeling you feel when you are wearing a new pair of shoes... or you see a really good movie. Joy, on the other hand, is that underlying emotion that causes you to seek more out of life, that drives you to have a good attitude, and causes you to see love and hope in the world around you.

It's really, really easy to settle for the quick fix. I mean, I kinda want to go shopping right now. But, I will just have to keep telling myself that those marketers have it wrong, I do not need a new pair of jeans (or, a *ahem* new laptop). It will not make me a happier, cooler or better person. In fact, it will just leave me a little bit poorer, and most likely, ever so slightly more materialistic.

Why is thou moody?

I don't know if it is that I don't deal with change... actually, I think I can handle change, it's the transition part. The time that exists between the way it was and the way it will be, that makes me feel so awkward.

I felt the same way in the weeks between the end of my job and my move to DC. This strange sort of anticipation that leaves you feeling unsettled and anxious.

I am in the process of moving, which amplifies the emotions. On top of not feeling 'at home' at any particular place right now, packing is in progress and I have the time-sensitive and complicated task of of the actual move looming in the near future. It has really brought out the 'planner' in me. In fact, I have the whole thing planned out in hour increments... (insert your laugh here). That's right, there is a schedule. I guess it is how I deal with the stress of it all. Everything has to be done within 24 hours and it requires a strategic balance of schedules and resources. I will be sooooo happy when it is over. I will be incredibly relieved to have a HOME. An actual place where I feel welcome!

It is something I always took for granted. Your environment has a significant effect on you. The unsettled nature of my living situation has been eating at me for awhile. With only a week left, I would hope that it wouldn't be having such an effect on my psyche... But, regardless... soon enough... the transition will be complete and with any luck at all, I will be enjoying a new sense of stability and satisfaction.

The Politics of Love

Remember Myspace? Well, I never understood the concept of 'Top Friends'. You want to know the truth? I have never even really understood the concept of 'best friends'. I find myself using the term, but mostly to clarify the terms of our relationship when discussing it with other people. I often feel the need to distinguish that the nature of our friendship is significantly more deep than a mere acquaintance, or even a casual friendship. That is why you may hear me refer to multiple people as my 'best friend'... yet I almost never refer to them that way in their presence.

So, Myspace forced us to identify the eight people in our lives that were somehow superior to the rest. I am not sure what purpose this served except to create this giant popularity contest. I guess it fits within our culture which feels the need to rank things at every opportunity. I think this is epitomized in the show that used to be (and may still be, I don't have cable, so I don't know)on E! network, fittingly entitled "Rank". Every episode featured a new list of people, categorized and neatly labeled in ascending order.

Why?

Some might call me extreme, but I think that our competitive nature is evidence of our struggle between our nature of insecurity and our nature of pride. It seems everyone has a little of both. I am both incredibly uncertain of my own value, and yet incredibly caught up in myself and my own worth.

This leads to a lot of issues in our lives. We need to feel validated, so we seek fulfillment from other people. We approach relationships as methods of solving our own problems, or our way of receiving the love we are craving. We compete to prove that we are valuable, we devalue others by criticism and insult.

People laugh when I use this example... but I grew up making fun of Baptists at every turn. It was petty jokes... but if I really examine my motives and am honest than myself, I did it because I wanted to feel superior to them in some small way. I needed to feel that even something as unimportant as the denomination I was affiliated with, made me slightly more valuable than the rest of the population.

At this point you may be wondering, why would anyone consider this opinion extreme? Well, the reason is that I see evidence of this in every form of competition. By that I mean.... sports, spelling bees, etc. Why do we need to compete? Why do we watch others compete? Why do we need to identify with a team? Why do we need our team to win? Well, I fundamentally think that these things are evidence of our state as humans seeking love and value in a world full of things that can't give it to us.

We all want to be loved. It's true. We all want to win at board games, we all want out teams to do well, we all want to be good at what we do, we all want to be right, we all want to be on people's 'top friends'... we all want to be worthy of others love and affection. Why?

We were designed that way. We were designed to be loved, to be constantly validated and fulfilled by a perfect, loving God.
But, Adam screwed it up and created this division. God never stopped loving us, but we have been separated in such a way that we aren't constantly aware of it.

So, what do we do? We seek love from those around us... we try and make ourselves more valuable by being good at things, by being funny or attractive... but it doesn't stop there, we need to be the VERY best, the MOST funny, and the MOST attractive. Because we NEED to be loved. The problem is other people are in need of love to, and not really capable of giving it unconditionally. So, we are constantly disappointed.

Top friends... who ever thought that ranking the people in your life was a good idea? How can you quantify relationships like that? And, how did it feel to be excluded, or lower on the totem pole than you thought? And really, what the heck does it matter!? Just because someone may have put 3 people ahead of you doesn't make the relationship you have with that person any less meaningful! It doesn't change a darn thing... all it does is make you aware of something, that I would argue... you were not meant to even consider, much less be aware of.

Inaugural Bliss

You may or may not have noticed, but there has been a lot going on in the DC area the past week or so. Preparations for the biggest Presidential Inauguration in American history have been going on for quite some time and culminated in a massive event which basically deadlocked the entire city for a weekend. There was no use in doing much. Unless you escaped the city completely, you were unlikely to experience much more than cold air and crowds no matter what you were doing.

I personally kept warm the entire weekend by avoiding all festivities. Maybe I will regret this down the road, but I'm not really into crowds or below freezing temperatures, so as of this point... I feel I made the best decision.

Having been heavily involved in the primary campaign within South, and then North Carolina, I do feel a stake in the process and therefore some ownership of the end result. We have a new president, and I think we should rightfully hold onto realistic hope that we can make progress towards a better world. We must expect great things from our new leader, we must pressure him to deliver on his promises, and never take the easy way out.

BUT, and this is a big BUT.... we should not expect a perfect man, we should not expect world peace, and we should not expect to complete four years without some disappointment. No man is perfect. No one can predict the future. A leader must make tough choices, and live with the circumstances. All that we can ask is that they take those choices seriously, that they weigh all options, that they seek wise counsel, and that they make the best decision they can.

We have not elected a messiah, we have elected someone who has the ability to make good decisions and who demonstrates sound judgment. We have elected someone who we trust to put aside the drama of politics and make choices based on reason and logic, and not on ideologies and in the pursuit of power. Now, this is still some lofty language, Obama is not immune from partisan politics... but I think that we all hope that he can blaze a new trail through Washington that shows us a better way of making things happen. Just maybe...

Washington has been an interesting place to be the past few weeks and I am sure it will continue to be for quite awhile... Over the weekend I heard many people comment on how nice everyone was being to each other. References to a real sense of community were made. I am glad people demonstrated such behavior, and I hope it lasts... but we have a long way to go.

What do you think, word for the year: gratitude?

The moment I begin to feel the slightest bit of pity for myself, I get a slap in the face.

This morning I had some time to kill so I decided to review my prayer journal for the past six months or so. This is due in large part to the surplus of time that my lack of internet access (stupid router) has caused me. Can't waste time? So, I actually do something productive... imagine!

A prayer journal, at least in my case, is somewhere were you are truly honest about you opinions and feelings. No reason to hold back... just You and God. Ask for what you want, confess what you need to get off your chest. No need for flowery language or fluff. I have to admit that I didn't remember half of the struggles I apparently had in recent history. It's funny how the lens through which you look at life can be shaded by your current circumstances. I had forgotten how hard it was at first... when I moved here. I had forgotten how I struggled.

It's pretty embarrassing really... I hope no one ever reads it. But, the journal really works to track a path... to see how God is molding you. In what you say, in how you say it... I can see God shaping me.

As I read I was overcome with emotion. God has answered SOOO many of my prayers that I had forgotten I prayed. The completely selfish ones, to the noble attempts at self-less requests. Prayers for me, prayers for family, prayers for friends. Prayers for material things, prayers for peace, prayers for wisdom. I was, I still am, truly in awe of it all... completely humbled. How awesome is it that God is at work in our lives even when we aren't aware of it? How amazing is it that He is working on our behalf to give us what we need AND what we want? How completely ridiculous is it that He does it regardless of our recognition of His efforts, and without an adequate expression of gratitude?

If that isn't love... then what is?

Responsibility

The very tone of the word 'responsibility' sends me into a tailspin these days. It seems like the positive intent of the word has been traded in for passive aggressive manipulation.

What is responsibility? In a tangible sense, it is easily associated with discretion, particularly with your resources, an ability to maintain commitments, and to be *ahem* 'reliable'.

What is the responsible thing to do? Well, to often (in my humble opinion) the responsible option is defined by 'worldly' standards. Which outcome produces the most financial gain? What choice puts me on the track to fulfill my obligation to accomplish the 'American Dream'?

The saddest part is that this mentality can even filter into the church... manipulating our ability to trust God. How often do we deny opportunity for less-risky options, because they 'make sense' materially, or because we allow fear of 'failure'.

Who defines failure? I contend that failure is a word primarily meant to define the opposite of worldly success. I have a hard time thinking of an situation that I would deem a failure in the spiritual sense. All circumstances produce growth and learning that are invaluable.

So, as a church, a body with eyes on the end game... theoretically, we welcome growth as we seek to become better versions of ourselves. Theoretically we have our minds set on the 'kingdom', right? Well, here is the way I have come to see it...

This rat race that the world tells me I have to participate in is a waste of time. If I, at any point, allow myself to get caught up in it, I am immediately bogged down by fears and stresses that remove every bit of joy from my life. This is where that illusive 'freedom in Christ' comes in to play for me... I am free from the fear of failure, and the stress of constant competition because I am able to live in a reality where, as cheesy as it sounds... I am loved regardless of what I look like, how good my grades are, or how much money I make. I can experience happiness without a penny to my name. I can have peace with whatever craziness happens. This is enabled by this weighty term, my 'word' for 2008, TRUST. My trust in Christ comes form his promise to take care of me. I just had to start believing that his plan was not only decent, but a pretty awesome, and that he was capable of making it happen. He proved that to me this year.

I live in a reality where the entire value system is reconstructed. What do I seek in life? Well, in the perfect world I could say I only seek to be who God wants me to be... a more loving, compassionate, wise, person... and where he wants me to go. I don't claim those as my sole pursuits quite yet, but getting rid of my need to be the prettiest, smartest, or WHATEVER it is, is certainly putting me on the right track.

So, back to my point: I am getting really sick of hearing the word 'responsibility' used an excuse from taking a chance. You know, it may not make the most logical sense... it may not be the most financially feasible... it may not even be the most appealing option, but if God is offering you the opportunity to take a chance and do something crazy, to get out of your comfort zone, experience life in a new way... I say DO IT.

The End.

3 States of Being

I was reminded over break how much of a contrast exist between the culturally 'christian' south, and the rest of the world. This subculture that exists among southern church communities, my not be exclusive to them. It seems probable that it extends to most contexts of the south as a whole, but I cannot speak to that from experience.

This significant difference in worldview is highlighted when you are one who has 'left the nest"... returning home for a visit promptly shoves you right into the limelight where you are quickly reminded how differently things work here. You see, there are three states of being among this sub-culture: absolutely single, married, or about to walk down the isle. There does not appear to be an acceptable in-between status.

It's not hard to miss the fact that people tend to get married significantly younger in the south, but it appears this tend is especially common within the church. I think we all might have a guess as to the exact reason for this... but beyond that, I think there might be other factors playing a role.

For the most part, the view of a female is disproportionately skewed, causing parents and children alike to value marriage as a state in which a young girl can be 'taken care of' once she is socially forced to leave the nest. Everyone feels better this way, she will be protected and cared for, and she can develop her skills as a caretaker in preparation for motherhood, which most likely, is coming soon and is certainly of high value. Let's be honest, in theory one might support the development of other interest and skills in young women, but it always seems to fall secondary, to the wayside once a connection is made to an acceptable male. Even in my contact with the strong, independent women in my life, I find significant expectation that I am making progress towards the 'goal' of marriage and baby-making.

Now, I realize I am being terribly, and most likely unfairly, generic. And, please do not assume that I mean this all incredibly negatively, for I am as guilty as the next person sometimes... and I to fall prey to the mentality. So... let's get back on track. Three states of being.

Inevitably, the question comes... "So, have you met someone?"

I dread running into people who I think might ask the question, regardless of what the answer is... Am I wrong in finding it slightly degrading? Maybe I am being overly sensitive, but I especially value the order... does it come before or after the questions about my studies? Even before I left home I must have had a dozen people predict I would "meet someone in DC" as if that was my reason for going. I tried to belittle the emphasis, for their sake as well as for my own. I am not sure I was incredibly successful on either front.

The problem continues once you have left single-hood.... now the pressure is really on. You may have left one nagging question and set of pressures behind, but they have simply been exchanged for a shiny new set. There does not appear to be an aptitude for length or depth of relationship. I blame this on the tendency of my peers down south to marry, not only young, but quickly. Taking a brief mental count of my married friends (which is most of the people I grew up with, by the way) I would say the average *ahem* 'courtship' lasted about 4.7 months (that's if you remove the anomaly of Christy and Daniel, who started dating in their early teens). That's right, 4.7 months!!

I guess that explains a lot. Three states of being: absolutely single, married, or about to walk down the isle. No in-between. I can make accusations all day about how this is unhealthy, and not beneficial. I can rant about people getting married young, or too quickly... but in all honesty, I do not have a right to. It's their life, not mine. I just don't exactly appreciate the way their choices impact me. Who knows what kind of damage the nagging questions have done my psyche? Or maybe, there is no damage at all. How should I know?

My removal from the south and the sub-culture in which I was raised really confirmed my life-long belief that people in the south are crazy. I mean, *ahem* different. I am not sure if I ever really fit in... classmates used to always assume I was a yankee because of my lack of accent, the way I dressed, the food I ate, etc... I would just shake my heard and smirk, "I've lived here my whole life, most likely, longer than you have."