MAP Around Her World

From D.C. Back to N.C.

2009-08-05T22:31:00.003-04:00

Whew. I would love to say that I have time for lots of updates, but I'm really just too tired. Not to mention that I have a new book waiting for me. (Fast Food Nation. More depressing food journalism--my future awaits.)

I am now back in Cary after a whirlwind adventure. I packed up most of my stuff on Friday, moved out Saturday, then drove to Nags Head the following afternoon.

Rosie took me hang gliding and kayaking on Monday, from which I am still recovering. I had so much fun learning to fly, but I could have done without the whiplash.

Now, I'm back here until Friday. I cannot wait to move into my Chapel Hill house. My own room, my own bathroom, a kitchen with an island...

Speaking of islands, I'm leaving for St. Thomas on Sunday. I don't know when I became so good at traveling around eastern North America, but I really can't complain. And that's all for now.

Too Simple a Measurement

2009-07-28T21:32:00.004-04:00

While I stopped talking much about economics long before my class this summer, the book I'm reading has a compelling point I feel the need to write down.

I think it explains why I've had such an adverse reaction to this class. I hate that all we do is measured in terms of money.

The GDP as a measure of progress emerged during an era when natural resources still seemed unlimited and "quality of life" meant high economic standards of living. But if prosperity is judged only by increased economic activity, then car accidents, hospital visits, illnesses (such as cancer), and toxic spills are all signs of prosperity. Loss of resources, cultural depletion, negative social and environmental effects, reduction of quality of life--these ills can all be taking place, an entire region can be in decline, yet they are negated by a simplistic economic figure that says economic life is good. Countries all over the world are trying to boost their level of economic activity so they, too, can grab a share of the "progress" that measurements like the GDP propound. But in the race for economic progress, social activity, ecological impact, cultural activity, and long-term effects can be overlooked.
- Cradle to Cradle

Bee and A-Mae

2009-07-26T23:15:00.002-04:00

Came to visit. I love them. Many, many thoughts to write down but no time.

Oversatiation (of activities and food)

2009-07-16T21:57:00.004-04:00

Whew. Why do I never have time to write? I don’t even know what I’m doing with my life. (As stated in the entry below.)

So, it’s past time for a rundown of my last week.

I saw Spring Awakening last Tuesday. Jake Epstein was the star, which came as a complete shock. For those of you who don’t know, he is truly my only television star obsession. (I admit it. He is on Degrassi. Oh, trashy Canadian shows.) The musical was equally amazing--a true bildungsroman set to rock music and with all the expected emo digressions of hormonal teenagers.

Then, of course, there was our LeaderShape reunion! Andrea and Wes both arrived on Friday. The three of us, plus a few of Andrea's friends, went to Jazz in the Gardens where we inevitably drank too much sangria. Then Wes and I embarked on an epic journey to Good Stuff Eatery, and though it was worth the trip, it was way too far for two starving, stumbling carnivores. We followed that meal up with Thomas Sweet. Shockingly, we ate an awful lot the entire weekend.

Saturday marked my second trip to Eastern Market, where we ate delectable crepes and I acquired a lovely sunburn. No touristy day is complete without a visit to The Mall, so we bussed it over to the Air & Space Museum. Then another journey to Adams Morgan for the National Zoo and Ethiopian Food. Then back to Dupont Circle for Hello Cupcake. (Just in time! They closed right after we ordered.) Looking back, it's amazing that we survived the weekend. So much to do with only a few days in D.C.!

Of course, then I came home and attempted to make cookies, because cupcakes were not enough. Not an easy feat with no brown sugar. Turns out it works, but it's not an ideal situation. Kind of like that time I used a banana as a substitute for two eggs. The cookies were more of a muffin top-cookie blend.

I had my best brunch thus far on Sunday at the News Café. The only thing better than French toast is French toast stacked with cream and fruit. Sinful.

To continue with our tourist theme, we visited The White House, the Washington Monument and the American History Museum. I would highly recommend a visit to The Old Post Office, where we saw some gorgeous views of the downtown D.C. skyline. Following that, we visited the WWII Memorial, the Lincoln Memorial, and The Guards restaurant for filet mignon. So much food.

The boys and I saw Bruno Sunday night. While I couldn't stop laughing during the movie, the residual after-effects are far more disturbing--a penis on screen for an awkwardly long time that also talks. No more words necessary.

Wes left Monday (so sad), and our program went to The State Department. I learned about a job in foreign policy, which I don't believe I want. At least I know. It sounds really exciting, but at this point I'm so wrapped up in domestic policy issues that I would feel like I'm cheating on the United States. (My American Studies major does not help with the guilt trip either.)

Obviously, Tuesday night was reserved for the Harry Potter premiere. Where I saw Jake Epstein again. In an embarrassing display of fanaticism, I panicked, lost control of my voice, and didn't ask for a picture. I'm quite ashamed of myself. Instead of dressing up in HP garb, I only wore Slytherin colors to commemorate the night, but I'm afraid I still looked far too friendly.

The rest of this week has moved far too rapidly. Only two more weeks with all these lovely people. Although I look forward to a human-sized bed and kitchen, I will truly miss all the bonding opportunities. But then I remember the impending semester of bonding I have with my new housemates in the fall!

Goodbye Yellow Brick Road

2009-07-13T21:47:00.008-04:00

This song seemed appropriate when it came on my iTunes shuffle this evening. If anything, this summer has caused me to question the decisions I’ve made about my future rather than reaffirmed them.

I'm grateful, if not a little irritated that the hyper-analytic side of my personality is making a comeback. (Specifically, I am recalling these three weeks in high school where I cut off nearly all means of communication. AIM, Myspace--gone. I even canceled my magazine subscriptions to further eradicate superficiality from my life.) I can tell this sort of situation is going to be a cyclical aspect of my life.

Anyway, I relate so much to Elton John's words, wishing that I could go back to a simpler time before I became an "illustrious" D.C. intern, before I sought a life outside of my hometown, before I even thought about college or a future beyond playtime.

I'm no longer certain of what I am trying to attain, to prove, to achieve.

When our program began our economics class last week, I became immediately infuriated with my professor for repeating the phrase "greedy, greedy, greedy" whenever speaking about the human race. I'm angry because he's right. More so, I am angry at myself for being a part of the system--trying to climb the ladder of success, giving in to superficial desires (such as shopping), protecting myself from appearing vulnerable.

By no means am I complaining about my life, at least not intentionally. I just wonder why I continue to chase after opportunities for wealth and glory when I would be happier just to be a homebody, though where home is, I am not certain.

I know people think I'm lazy for not working diligently at my classes here, or even some classes I've taken back at school. In fact, I think I am increasingly being perceived as a lazy person in general. If only you'd known me in high school. Now that I look back at how unhappy I was in pursuit of what I considered a greater happiness--college--I regret not taking the time to enjoy that moment rather than the promise of a "better" future moment.

I feel bombarded by these conflicting messages: always do your best, yet do what you love. I cannot seem to reconcile one with the other, because doing my best at something I hate seems counter intuitive, not to mention wasteful. By focusing more on the latter, I receive criticism for not doing the former. But I suppose living up to my own expectations is all that matters.

I quite simply do not know what I want, not that any of us do. I love the culture and the excitement of D.C., but it's the small places where I feel most comfortable (And that goes beyond knowing I don't have to clutch my purse when walking through N.C. towns). I love cooking, but it's an activity I want to share with those closest to me, not a career opportunity. I love writing, but there's that nagging voice telling me I cannot ever do it on my terms.

Thus, I am questioning everything. My major, my study abroad choice, my decision to be in college, even my friendships. It's so hard to do, yet infinitely easier than losing any more time on what I don't want. At least I know that.

So goodbye yellow brick road
Where the dogs of society howl
You can't plant me in your penthouse
I'm going back to my plough

Back to the howling old owl in the woods
Hunting the horny back toad
Oh I've finally decided my future lies
Beyond the yellow brick road

Metaphorically, of course. I haven't operated a plough in my entire life.

Sigh of Contentment

2009-07-05T23:13:00.005-04:00

Reasons to be happy:

1) I have half a chocolate buttermilk cake sitting upstairs (with chocolate hazelnut buttercream frosting). I'm calling it the "Death by Chocolate & Cholesterol" cake. Probably not the greatest name from a marketing point of view.

2) I saw The Jersey Boys, Aretha Franklin and Barry Manilow in concert for the 4th of July. And most importantly, many of the Sesame Street characters made an appearance. I knew their songs best of all.

3) I saw every member of my family at some point or another this week. I'm not particularly homesick, but spending Friday with my dad in Annapolis and Georgetown made me epically happy. He's oh-so good to me.

4) I ate brunch with Katie today. She is most lovely to be around, especially when accompanied by French toast and Welsh rarebit.

5) My life practically revolves around food these days (clearly), which could be a reason to be depressed rather than happy. After all, cooking with so much butter isn't exactly the best way to avoid my genetic predisposition for high blood pressure. Then again, food brings people together, and I'd like to think I do a lot of that.

6) In further disregard of the selfishly-worded parallel structure I had going (I, I, I, I), the people here are amazing. Inspiring and motivating. And good with flattery. But really, I miss them already.

7) Seems like an appropriate number to end on, for some reason. I think you know this one. LEADERSHAPE REUNION THIS WEEKEND!

The Real WALL-E

2009-06-29T11:59:00.002-04:00

I NEED one. He just melts my heart.

Summer cookin' (and eatin')

2009-06-23T22:11:00.003-04:00

I have finally done what I've always wanted to do (well, since college): make a meal schedule and stick to it. So far this week, I've only made tacos, mac 'n' cheese, and buttermilk biscuits to serve as the starch in strawberry shortcake, but I'm feeling quite good about my progress.

This week also calls for sloppy joes, homemade pizza, chocolate chip cookies, and french toast. And next on the more ambitious agenda is chicken parmesan. Cooking/baking is the one activity I consistently look forward to... I wonder if I'm pursuing the right profession?

As I failed to mention before, I saw Food, Inc. this weekend. Nothing too life-changing, as I'd already read Michael Pollan's The Omnivore's Dilemma and was familiar with many of the issues addressed. Oh food classes, how I adore thee.

One thing I was not aware of was that companies are beginning to spray their beef with ammonia to remove potential E. Coli bacteria. Yummy.

In any case, I sincerely hope that Food, Inc. receives the hype that An Inconvenient Truth did. Every American should see the documentary. Only when consumers begin demanding change will any of us receive it. And boy, do I want that change.

Another week in pictures

2009-06-21T23:36:00.007-04:00

No time for extensive updates, but here's another picture synopsis of my week:

I admired Julie Childs' kitchen for hours at the American History Smithsonian. I'm definitely going to have pegboard to hang up all my pans someday, ya hear?

I enjoyed trivia night with my district friends. We did not win the game, but we were the happiest team, which counts for more anyway. In trivia and in life.

The program went to Mount Vernon today. So gorgeous inside, and a lovely day to boot. My kitchen with the pegboard storage will be inside my own lovingly restored historic home, ideally.

I also tried Ethiopian food on Saturday. Amazing. Will elaborate on the experience further at a later date since there is clearly no sense in me promising next-day updates when I consistently fail at them.

Tomorrow, I intend to bike along the Potomac for as long as physically possible. Walking in high heels is not a sufficient workout.

Gaining some culture, getting acculturated

2009-06-15T00:41:00.006-04:00

Despite the sunburn I received after hours spent at the Capital Pride Festival, I'm feeling quite pleased with how this weekend went. The weather was beautiful and I saw so much in such a short time. I feel like I've lived nearly an entire semester in the one week I have been here.

We explored the museum of natural science on Friday and took so many pictures for the photo contest. (I desperately need that prize money to feed myself.) In fact, I bring my Fund shirt everywhere, just in case. Double the reward!

That evening, we had a dance party. In fact, we seem to be having/attending an awful lot of parties. In this pictorial example, I was the straight in the middle of a gay sandwich. I'm a lucky girl. Having now attended seven parties in the last eight days, I can honestly say that this summer will be crazier than my freshman year of college. Whew.

On Saturday, I met Alice Waters. I still cannot get over it. I purchased her cookbook The Art of Simple Cooking for myself and my mom, and she signed the book and took a picture with me. Sigh. I achieved supreme bliss in that moment.

In a similar foodie event, I tried Persian food for the first time and adored it. Then again, I have yet to taste a new cultural cuisine that I haven't liked. I also found the most divine Greek restaurant this weekend, but I'm sure I'll have more on that later.

More importantly, Saturday marks the day I visited the Church of Scientology. We actually went inside and learned about the religion, meeting with Scientologists and watching a video. The experience was incredibly surreal. It deserves its own post, which will hopefully be happening tomorrow. I need the time to gather my thoughts.

To add to the gay fun from Friday, we went to the festival on Sunday. I saw some of the most bizarre outfits and witnessed some incredibly strange behavior, and I'm so glad I went. There were under-dressed men everywhere, as illustrated. Pretty to look at, at least.

Basically, this weekend marked an excellent beginning to my D.C. summer. I can't wait to spend all of tomorrow in the American history museum. They'll probably have to drag me out.

Now that I think about it, when it's time to leave this place, my family may have to drag me out of this city, too.

First D.C. Farmers' Market

2009-06-10T20:54:00.003-04:00

I know it looks more like carnage, but I enjoyed homemade beet & goat cheese ravioli this evening (paired with a garlic butter sauce and a side of roasted broccoli) courtesy of the Rose Park Farmers' Market. I cannot possibly describe my excitement upon learning that this market is literally two blocks from where I work.

Additionally, I bought a chocolate & almond croissant and chicken pastry from this awesome French man. He's already a favorite.

In other news, I'm ready for the weekend. Alice Waters book signing, another farmers' market, potentially a food & wine tasting, and going out dancing, lots. Can't wait!

Interning at the Big House

2009-06-09T21:30:00.002-04:00

Not the big White House, unfortunately. But I'd say my internship house is just as rewarding.

Today I drafted a press release, created a blog, Tweeted four updates, researched nearby museums, and updated our Facebook page. I think I did pretty well for Day 1.

The sky unleashed its wrath on D.C. as I walked back from work, but I didn't mind in the slightest. You know you love a place when you're so happy to be there that being cold and wet is an afterthought.

Live from Georgetown

2009-06-07T23:01:00.004-04:00

Here's a brief synopsis of my journey to D.C., thus far:

My dad, brother and I left Friday around 4 and got to our hotel in Fairfax by 10. It was amazing. I had my own suite with a king-sized bed and separate living area. I feared that the quality of my room would leave something to be desired in my apartment, and I was right.

We went to Wegman's the following morning--it's this huge grocery store with it's own cafe and everything. Think giant Harris Teeter/Weaver Street hybrid. I brought my camera in to document the event and left without it. Oy vey. I didn't realize until I was in Georgetown that it was missing, so I'm fairly certain that the camera's gone for good, though I still called the store in case it gets turned in. Perhaps that case I made was cursed.

Yesterday, I moved in to my apartment, which I'm sharing with four girls from New York, Ohio, Missouri and Hong Kong. The apartment was poorly cleaned and I found myself wiping down every surface before I'd place anything on it. Our kitchen floor is disgusting, an issue that has yet to be resolved.

In an effort to force us into an awkard bonding situation, the program hosted a pizza party in the courtyard that our apartments surround. Unfortunately, it was Papa John's pizza, which sent me back inside for a yogurt and some pretzel bread. (The first I've found in the U.S., courtesy of Wegman's.) I met some awesome people, but I fear I will never be able to meet everyone. Or even remember all of their names, and I hate not remembering names.

The night ended in a party at a townhouse off campus. Diana's boyfriend was turning 21, so I figured it was worth the block-long walk. I ended up bringing about 15 people along, so it was a great(er) bonding event.

Today, I volunteered at Dumbarton House for a special tour the house was hosting. I am already in love. The walk there takes me past some of the most beautiful historic homes in the area and the trees keep me reasonably cool. The employees are all so nice and the grounds are stunning. I doubt I'll get any work done with all that aesthetic overload.

A super-touristy bus tour ended the night, with a hilarious tour guide who told us such riveting facts as "we have 50 states" and "the U.S. gained its freedom from Britain in 1776." I suppose the information was for the international students, but it was hard not to feel like I was in 5th grade again.

Having crammed so much into such a short period of time, I am epically tired. I'm not sure there will be many moments this summer where I'm not, though. While I love that feeling of being fulfilled-yet-exhausted, at the moment I just need sleep.

Packing a punch, packing a bunch

2009-06-04T21:38:00.003-04:00

I'd like to think that everything I'm packing for D.C. is absolutely necessary. No, I cannot survive two months without my craft cart (including my guns--of the staple & hot glue variety) nor without my KitchenAid mixer, at the risk of appearing completely domestic(ated).

With every place I temporarily move to, I feel the need to bring items that remind me of home. As I also harbor packrat tendencies, I have to ensure that I'm being reasonable. I'm sure that some would consider filling an entire van with stuff for two months unreasonable, but I so much want to create a comfortable space for myself and even more so for my roommates.

Baking and crafting are as close to being maternal as I'm willing to get. At least for the moment.

Using Protection

2009-06-03T22:53:00.003-04:00

Well, actually I made the protection for my new camera and now I'm using it. I'm quite proud of my accomplishment... Sewing does not come as easily to me as cooking, but I'm making progress.

This case (inspiration came from this link) probably cost me $5 to make and about 2 hours of time. Rachel, I used some of that sweatshirt material in lieu of batting. Lovely!

Tomorrow's attempt includes finishing a laptop case which ought to be infinitely trickier. At least I'll have a pattern this time!

Floatin'

2009-06-02T00:03:00.003-04:00

Today (or, rather, yesterday at this point), I was at the mall getting the last of my "necessary" D.C. outfits.

As I was leaving, a man stopped me.

"Excuse me--you are beautiful."

Well, my initial instinct was to avoid eye contact and walk swiftly in the other direction, but he said it with such sincerity. No ulterior motives, and then he just walked away.

I know it's silly to place so much importance on words, though as a writer it's my natural inclination.

Still, I've spent the rest of the day floating.

Another great video against Prop 8

2009-06-01T22:14:00.003-04:00

I love the statement about tradition.

A Bug's Life, ended

2009-05-31T13:17:00.005-04:00

As my foot hesitatingly descended on a bug crawling around the bakery floor yesterday, I swear I saw its little life flash before my eyes. The bug's hopes and dreams, its innumerable children growing from eggs to larvae to adults, the rewarding one night stands resulting in its continued gene expression...

Thanks to a combination of bug personification in all those beloved Disney/Pixar movies and my brief stint as a Buddhist, I am generally incapable of killing anything other than mosquitoes (they attack first, after all).

For one thing, I just know I am causing years (or months, or weeks) of devastation to the creature's family. At least that's what happens in A Bug's Life, and I can't bear considering the ramifications of such a heartless homicide. Like, how will he/she save his/her entire colony and live out his/her full heroic potential if I cut his/her life even shorter?

For another, from a reincarnation perspective I am undoubtedly harming my chances of experiencing my next life as a cat. And I really need the sleep.

Embracing a "new" cultural phenomenon, or not

2009-05-28T21:21:00.010-04:00

While millions of miscreant teenagers across the country are wrapping their arms around one another in a bold move commonly referred to as a "hug," I am still trying to wrap my head around the preposterous amount of media coverage regarding the latest trend in expressing affection.

Clearly, this story came about as an attempt to make reading the news a little more lighthearted. You know, hugs not drugs, hugs not powerful nuclear weapons being developed by our country's enemies, hugs not thousands of people dying everyday from HIV/AIDS. Yay hugs! What an excellent distraction!

Enter irony. With all the violence the media bombards us with everyday, the most nonviolent of acts is being challenged. Watching poverty-stricken illegal aliens being deported is an action I accept as a necessary evil, but I'll be damned if I ever have to watch two middle school-aged girls publicly hug.

Seeing hugs labeled as a trend is absurd enough. Seeing hugs banned from schools is a travesty. In these times, in any times, it's so important to have the support of friends as well as of family. Hugs are just tangible evidence of love--you know, the Bill Withers' "Lean on Me" mentality. I don't remember hearing about anyone having freak-out attacks about the form of human contact addressed in that song. Leaning leads to hugging, undoubtedly.

Perhaps we could first identify the purpose of school: for students to gain the knowledge that will transform them into thoughtful, informed adults. The purpose of a hug, obviously, is to express positive feelings, to provide comfort. Is that expression not part of creating thoughtful adults? I happen to believe that hugging, that affection in general, is crucial in our development as humans. And I can cite endless experiments to back me up.

So I have to wonder as this topic gains prevalence, are we moving so fast that we'll never have time to stop and embrace? Or are we regressing back to the Puritan era? Well, either way, go ahead and condemn me as a Hugger with a capital "H." I'll proudly bear the scarlet letter. (That unnecessary "H" in my name is my pride and joy, after all.)

A food forum of celebs, then one of my own

2009-05-27T22:05:00.006-04:00

It all started when my dear friend Brittany and I began having a rather intense discussion about food, all based on this video of a panel discussion called Food for Thought:

I'm with Waters on this one, especially because I think we can derive the same visceral pleasure from food that Bourdain discusses while we also revel in its freshness--in its authenticity as an actual food. My response to her saying that a food's origin doesn't matter (and that some people can't afford to care) is as follows:

I honestly think that we ARE on the same page here, hard as it is to believe. Because you’re right; when we eat, we shouldn’t have to ask where our food comes from. We should feel comforted by the fact that the government is monitoring our food systems well enough to keep us safe. But they’re NOT.

Just look at all the recent food safety scares with peanut butter. How did the salmonella get in the peanut butter? Well, nobody will ever know for certain because the journey from inside a peanut shell to onto a grocery store shelf is so long and convoluted that tracing it has become nearly impossible. Instead, companies spent millions of dollars to rectify the issue by pulling all products containing peanut butter off the shelves. If we knew where the tainted products came from, it would’ve been a hell of a lot cheaper to fix.

The point is, most of the food we as Americans are choosing to eat has a much higher cost than the price tag. The gas used to produce the food, to transport the food, is obviously taking a toll on the ozone. The high fructose corn syrup, the hydrogenated oils, well, those are taking a toll on our health. Obesity, heart disease, and diabetes are all increasing in prevalence at astounding rates.

The food we consume may seem to provide only sustenance, while in the meantime it’s degrading our water sources, our soil, our air, and thus the produce that still has some integrity left.

If anything, we can’t afford not to care. Those of us fortunate enough to feed ourselves have to speak out for those who cannot. When we stop accepting the way America currently produces food, the processes will have to change. And when they do, that single mother can ensure that her children will never eat a tomato picked by a pesticide-sickened migrant worker who was deported the day he was supposed to be paid. That college student can ensure that his or her burger was not made from a cow slowly dying in its own feces.

On Proposition 8, a little late

2009-05-27T21:08:00.008-04:00

Please excuse the rhyme. I just watched this video again, and I feel like singing show tunes:

How many years do you think it'll be before we look back on these hateful decisions to continue banning gay marriage the way we now look back on the Civil Rights movement?

There's probably five people left who think that ending segregation was a bad ahead, and they all live in Mississippi. I don't doubt that the situation will be quite similar with gay marriage, hopefully in my lifetime. After all, look at all the changes that have already occurred in our parents'. Ah, progress. I criticize our country at times for moving too fast, but this is one issue where I want to speed right along.

I read two great reactions to the California Supreme Court's decision that I have to share.

"The Big Gay Shrug" by columnist Mark Morford
"The Big Gay Chip on My Shoulder" by singer Rob Thomas

Quite different stylistically, though similar in their anger. And we should be angered. We should be outraged, in fact. To ostracize a group strictly based on their sexual orientation is to regress so shamefully--it's saying that a characteristic or situation that a person is born with or in is worthy of discrimination. Well that sounds awfully familiar...

I wish everyone would remember: None of us are free until all of us are free.

Memories of a Past May

2009-05-26T20:25:00.003-04:00

I continue to be highly amused by my old Xanga posts. This one's from the last Tuesday in May, 2005. I was a sophomore in high school. And the sophomore-in-high-school version of me amuses the sophomore-in-college version of me to no end. Part of my reason for blogging is definitely for posterity's sake, but I often forget how nice it is just to look back. (And laugh, as the case often is.)

Summer is here at last. And it feels damn good.

I'll be the first one to admit that I am one of those banal people that absolutely adores this season. Sure, I'm a Yankee at heart, but I have never been a fan of cold weather. Anything below 50 degrees is just a little too chilly for me. My body temperature is always lower than it's supposed to be, so there's no need for my surrounding environment to exacerbate that sense. (Unless I happen to be somewhere gorgeous but cold. Then I'm willing to compromise.)

Plus, I love the feeling of soaking up some good old UV rays and letting the sun's heat permeate into my bones. Sure, tanning is incredibly unhealthy, but we all have our bad habits. That one has just matured into an addiction. Of course, it's only fun in the company of friends. Otherwise I get bored within 30 minutes. So thank goodness for fellow sun-revelers.

Naturally, the best thing about summer is the lack of school. Try to withhold your shock, because I know many people assume I enjoy school, if only because I do well in it. But you know what they say about assuming. At least school ended well this year. As if it ever hasn't. Endings, in this case, are warmly welcomed. Exams were easy except for Spanish 2, but I expected that. It's not like it made much difference anyway, since most people, including me, had over a 100 in that class.

Now I'm ready to face my report card. And yes I'll be seeing the same predictable letter grade I always see, but I'm in need of some decent final exam grades too. They help determine your class rank, and I need to be ranked 25th or lower so I can be a Junior Marshall. This all sounds so mediocre to most of you, but it's a necessity for me. My success in school will determine if I ever get out of A-hell. Not that it's that bad, but this whole area is suburbia, and I can't see myself spending my entire life here.

On that note, I must go and live my provincial, yet thus far adequate, life.

Lordy, I was such an overachiever. Okay, still am. But in a much healthier way, in my opinion. I choose the areas in which I overachieve, at the very least. And I am considerably less stressed-out. And I will never, ever care about getting straight A's again.

Hating suburbia, on the other hand? Well, some things never change.

In Memory

2009-05-25T22:27:00.004-04:00

I won't lie; I generally consider Memorial Day to be a bonus day added to my weekend, rather than a holiday designed to honor our nation's military. Usually, I'm just about as grateful for the day off as I am for their services.

And, to be honest, I treated this one like all the rest. I lounged around, played Solitaire, and made progress on my epically-long room cleaning extravaganza.

Then I read this article. Thoughtfully composed and beautifully written, this piece about fallen soldiers caused me to stop and think about those who have risked (and lost) their lives so I could complete the banal task of artfully arranging my food studies books.

So thank you. I mean it. I hope to someday defend your rights as you have defended mine. (Though not with a gun, because we all know that would not turn out well.)

Also, Cheezburger

2009-05-24T12:08:00.003-04:00

You should play this game if you have inordinate amounts of free time and are easily amused.

The LeaderShape Institute: Review

2009-05-24T11:36:00.005-04:00

All better! Well, actually, I've managed to replace one affliction with another, trading an emotional breakdown for pink eye...

I feel relieved nonetheless. I have all these lovely pictures through which to peruse, and I'm realizing that getting off the plane to Raleigh was by no means an end, though the usually well-suppressed pessimist in me was screaming otherwise. Despite spending an entire week repeating the phrase "healthy disregard for the impossible," I had promptly discarded all that I learned.

Although the name of the program implies that one will be shaped into a leader by attending, I think I had that part under control from years of being an older sister and an overachiever extraordinaire. What I took from LeaderShape reinforced my hope in people. Remember how my first year of college did that for me? Well, I love being reminded.

Thus, I'm feeling way better about life. I can see my vision falling into place with tangible (and edible) results. I can also see myself 20 years from now still talking (and arguing) with fellow LeaderShapers.

The LeaderShape Institute: Recovery

2009-05-18T20:07:00.005-04:00

I can't believe that this time last week, I was packing for Illinois, and now I'm back already. To be quite honest, I am utterly depressed. You know that feeling when you recognize that one of the best moments of your life has passed? Perhaps not. I get them from time to time, and I swear they suck all the happiness out of me. I think Audrey Hepburn's character Holly Golightly accurately described them as the "mean reds" in Breakfast at Tiffany's.

In any case, it's not the week that caused the mean reds. It's the aftermath. I want my life to always feel the way it did in that small town outside of Champaign. Instead, I'll spend the next three weeks working two jobs and preparing for D.C. I know this summer is going to change my life (it already has), but the waiting hurts.

I am physically and emotionally exhausted right now.

I'll post "The LeaderShape Institute: Review" when I'm feeling a little better.

Romanian Cuteness

2009-05-06T21:01:00.004-04:00

WHY IS THIS GIRL SO CUTE? She's only three and she's already a professional singer!

She's like a Romanian Shirley Temple. Love her sunglasses.

Thank You, Honestly

2009-04-30T19:58:00.005-04:00

I thought I'd have to lie to write this thank you note for the donor who provided money for my journalism scholarship. After all, the scholarship is supposed to go to someone interested in North Carolina culture and history. But as I wrote the note, I realized that none of it was a lie...

Dear [name removed],

I am so thankful to you for providing me with some of the money necessary to continue my education. You will be in my thoughts next semester as I sit through my journalism classes and gain the knowledge and understanding I need to be a contributing and impactful North Carolina resident, just as James Davis was.

To tell you a little bit about myself, I am currently finishing up my sophomore year at UNC, though I wish I was not already halfway through my college career. Coming to school in Chapel Hill from Cary has further increased my love of all things North Carolina. Although I am a transplanted Yankee, my roots are now firmly planted in the South.

Currently, I am most interested in learning about southern food. As a double major in American Studies focusing on American foodways, my appreciation for local foodways has developed into an obsession—visiting nearby farms, frequenting the Carrboro Farmer’s Market and eating cornbread like it’s my job. I’ve adopted the culture; and the culture so rich in that infamous southern hospitality has also adopted me.

With my education, I plan to fill my repertoire of experiences with visits to foreign countries and more familiar states, sharing conversation with anyone and everyone and learning through living. That’s what you have given me: the opportunity to live more fully without the fear of incurring debt.

I know that I will leave this place in two years with bittersweet feelings. But as a journalist, I recognize the importance of leaving in order to gain a new perspective, one I’m sure will eventually plant me back here where I belong.

Thanks again for your generosity,
Meghan

I never, ever expected to love North Carolina this much. (Chapel Hill, specifically.) But at this point, I'm rather addicted. Yes, I want to leave, to explore other places and other opportunities, but I think I'll always be pulled back here.

Sh-whoops

2009-04-12T11:21:00.008-04:00

I was setting epic records for a while there, posting almost as often as I had a new thought. Apparently I have been focusing my thoughts on other topics, such as my many end-of-the-year papers. Whew.

March Madness is the most fitting excuse I can think of. And I'm not just referring to basketball.

Here is a rundown of the last month, with pictures:

We made our first meal of spring.

Slept in boxes during a rainstorm.

Celebrated Katie's 20th birthday.

Celebrated a NATIONAL CHAMPIONSHIP.

Celebrated JJ's presidential retirement.

Visited the Carrboro Farmer's Market, ate lots.

Held our last full SAIL meeting before commencement.

So, many celebrations occurred. Plus, today is Easter, so I will be elaborating on my life later.

Lagging with Updates, but Not Jet-Lagged

2009-03-15T21:25:00.004-04:00

I'm baaaaaack!

I have so much to write, but I should probably sleep soon to once again regulate my schedule.

Expect Germany stories in installments throughout the week.

A picture preview:

A Celebration of Two Eves

2009-03-05T22:39:00.004-05:00

Today marks the one year anniversary of Eve Carson's death.

Time has passed so quickly. Campus wounds are scabbing over. A few years from now, we'll carry the permanent scar. Healed, but with the ever-present memory.

That Eve still makes an impact from beyond says so much about her strength of character. She brought the campus together countless times as student body president. We're all together for her again.

She inspires me to be better. I know I'm not the only one.

On another note, I'm going to Germany tomorrow. It's the eve of my trip. And today was absolutely beautiful.

Her Morning Elegance

2009-03-04T22:40:00.003-05:00

I love, love, love this song. It reminds me of The Beatles' "She's Leaving Home," except with more hope.

The video's not too shabby either.

In like a lion, as promised

2009-03-03T22:40:00.003-05:00

March has really pulled through on fulfilling that old weather adage, "In like a lion, out like a lamb."

Well, actually, so far we've only got the former confirmed. But warm weather absolutely must arrive ASAP. Try as I might to summon up spring-and-summer feelings with bright clothes and optimism, my enthusiasm is fading fast. I need the real deal, real soon!

It rained all weekend, then gradually got colder, then culminated in an overnight snow flurry that covered campus Monday morning.

In my mind, the only purpose snow really serves is to get residents of the South out of unfavorable obligations. In this case, classes and work. But in typical Carolina tradition, everything operated on a normal schedule beginning at 10 a.m. Which is conveniently the time of my first class.

I would happily stay a second semester sophomore for quite awhile. Can that opportunity please, please come packaged with sunshine?

Two G's

2009-02-26T22:35:00.003-05:00

Germany and Georgetown.

I'll be in the former in a little over a week and the latter in a little over three months.

I know I should live in the present and enjoy my life as it comes, but goodness. I have so much to look forward to!

A Lesson in Civility

2009-02-22T21:28:00.005-05:00

I attended the ACC Leadership Conference this weekend at Virginia Tech, and while I'm not sure I took away the main points of the meeting, I really did learn something.

We had a case study involving Rwandan health issues, but I found a few other studies more interesting. A further study of people, for instance.

Specifically, the other ACC schools opened my eyes to a world outside the UNC bubble. I always forget that not everyone shares an experience similar to Carolina's. I feel enlightened after hearing the ways that other schools operate.

And I still like mine best :-)

I will have to elaborate on those thoughts later, however. A weekend devoted to leadership leaves little time to do actual coursework.

A love for weekends and a weekend of love

2009-02-15T20:30:00.009-05:00

This weekend was especially enjoyable with all the Valentine's Day festivities. I didn't participate in anything too spontaneous or exciting, but I find that a combination of good food, good friends and a few favorite movies also do the trick.

Here's Katie snuggling in her festive red blanket-with-arms. I introduced her to the glory of Office Space on Friday night. And she looked so cute, an even better advertisement for snuggies than the television commercials, I just had to take a picture.

And these beauties are the absolutely delectable white chocolate cherry shortbread cookies I made to commemorate the holiday.

I ate a lot of really amazing food, which is crucial during this season. Eating is one of the most pleasurable experiences that exists. What better way to celebrate Valentine's Day than to eat lots and lots?

Lin, Elly and I tried Fiesta Grill, a restaurant 5 miles past the middle of nowhere. The place was incredibly crowded and we waited about 45 minutes for a table. When my flautas fiesta arrived, however, I forgot all about the wait. My plate, appropriately, represented a whole party of textures, and tasted like one big piece of fried tortilla and meat heaven. Totally worth the drive, and absolutely worth the $10 price tag.

Naturally, gorging oneself on Mexican ought to be followed up with chocolate. Bliss, the new boutique bakery on West Franklin Street, made the sweetest ending. Chocolate cupcake topped with chocolate ganache? Yes, please. Chocolate-covered strawberry on the house? Bliss accomplished.

New February Resolutions

2009-02-12T19:50:00.005-05:00

By this time of year, most people have given up on their New Year's resolutions. I mean, New Year's Eve is one of the most well-celebrated holidays of the year, and you're probably high off the endorphins, and God knows what else, when establishing those resolutions. Of course you're going to ditch any commitments you made in that altered, extra enthusiastic state of mind.

Thus, I am beginning a new tradition for myself. New February Resolutions will allow me to set and accomplish goals at an otherwise dismal time of year. Other than Valentine's Day, there are no holidays to get excited about until spring break rolls around. I, on the other hand, will get excited about checking items off my February resolution list.

Examples include learning to:

listen as well as I talk.
cook a wide variety of wholesome meals.
confront people, period. I'll work on the actual method next year.
not worry every five minutes.
save money. Or spend it on practical things.

Five seems like a reasonable number of New February Resolutions to have, but I guess I get to make the rules up as I go along. I'll add and subtract as I see fit. Speaking of which, getting fit ought to be on there as well...

Another argument against all things nuclear

2009-02-09T21:26:00.005-05:00

Over the past several days, I have become Facebook friends with several of my relatives. All of whom I have not seen in years.

Why? Because, as previously mentioned, I live here and they live there. North Carolina versus New York. Separated by 12 hours, unyielding traffic, and fluctuating gas prices. I often forget how large my family is. After all, I'm generally just surrounded by my four closest relatives, plus the occasional aunt or cousin thrown into the mix.

I feel like I missed out on an incredibly valuable opportunity. The idea of being friends with my cousins has always appealed to me so much. The ability to just chat with my aunts and uncles about life has seemed like a downright luxury.

I crave the My Big Fat Greek Wedding family experience-- an extended family that laughs loud and eats big. I know mine is like that, but surely I deserve a direct immersion opportunity.

The nuclear family has its merits, with its easily identifiable members and common geography, but the description itself sounds a little dangerous. Clearly, I need to extend the branches of my family tree beyond North Carolina to embrace what lies to the north and west. I'm hoping I'll be accepted, despite the fallout.

An Election Upheaval

2009-02-08T23:40:00.004-05:00

Just when we thought six candidates running for student body president was overwhelming!

Hallie Lipsey has a rather large sign in the Pit and a new Facebook group. And apparently, a rather large following. In case you don't care to click the image and read the fine print, here's the platform synopsis.

Hallie promises to:
- Allow jousting in the quad
- Promote Velociraptor Awareness Day
- Enforce mandatory 5-second rule
- Help the Greeks defeat the Trojans
- Create P3P (even better than P2P)
- Put an Alpine Bagel in every building
- Annex Carrboro
- Fine the Board of Elections 12 dollars
- Create a flat-rate rickshaw service
- Fix the uneven bricks on campus
- Look remarkably like J.J. Raynor
- Not be obnoxious

All very commendable ideas. Apparently, Hallie is an actual person. A junior, in fact, who claims to have in no way contributed to the sign's creation. Hmm... I was struggling to commit to a candidate. Write-in, anyone?

'Twas a beautiful day

2009-02-07T20:49:00.011-05:00

Katie and I chose not to let it get away.

We took a lovely walk to Gimghoul Castle and around the Battle Park trail. Naturally, the combination of Katie's company and the sun's presence inspired me to take pictures.

trees at the cemetery

Gimghoul Castle

pretty Katie!

Reminder: It snowed last week. Gotta love inconsistent North Carolina weather. (But really, can it stay in the 60s until summer?)

Another kind of rich

2009-02-07T12:41:00.008-05:00

With all this discussion about the economic crisis and stimulus packages, I feel comforted by the thought that money can only buy so much.

"The greatest investment you can make is in the life of another person."
- Emmanuel Jal

"Stand By Me"

2009-02-06T11:14:00.004-05:00

This video makes me supremely happy.

I can't wait for the larger documentary, Playing For Change: Peace Through Music, to come out in April.

Eating What You Are

2009-02-02T20:32:00.006-05:00

My parents trained me at a very young age to adversely react to the word "aspartame." Equipped with the understanding that aspartame was "bad" and most likely caused brain tumors, I took it upon myself to educate anyone less well-versed in healthy eating behaviors.

We can all see how that turned out.

Besides aspartame, I soon scorned iceberg lettuce, questionable meat products (i.e. hot dogs) and any baked goods that came from a box. They were all just a little too unreal for me.

While I can blame my parents for establishing characteristics of good food versus bad food, in my mind I have expanded these rules to epic proportions. After all, they're still eating all of the aforementioned foods. (Sans baking mixes. I've never seen a box in our house. Ever.)

College did me in completely. Here, I am free to develop even greater food neuroses. No hydrogenated oils or high fructose corn syrup. No high fat milk or high sodium snacks.

But why?

I've already learned in my food studies class that while we define the foods we eat, the foods we eat also define us. Sure, my eating habits demonstrate my need for control (in all situations). But I'm also succumbing to a very human need for fresh food--for that just-off-the-vine aroma. Or that just-slaughtered flavor. Mm-mm.

I know my friends consider me a food snob, much like Meg Ryan in When Harry Met Sally. But I remain absolutely unapologetic; “I just want it the way I want it.” If we are what we eat and, more importantly, how we eat, then I think that being fastidious tastes pretty freaking delicious.

The Last One in the First Month

2009-01-31T23:15:00.008-05:00

It's funny how much emphasis is placed on change-- from our climate to our new president's election campaign. Sometimes good, sometimes bad, but seemingly always inevitable.

So I feel incredibly fortunate to have friends who have not succumbed to the change mania. Friends from elementary, middle and high school who mean the same to me now than they did back then. (Though I'm sure I didn't realize it 10 years ago.)

They're the ones I may never see, but can always call. The ones I see everyday, who maintain my sanity. In a world full of change, it's nice to have that solid foundation.

Though perhaps there has been an almost imperceptible change in all of us. The influence of college, of new life experiences cannot have left us unaffected. So I suppose I am even more grateful that as we change, we evolve even closer together.

...just to include a few :-)

Una visita a La Tienda Hispanica

2009-01-26T19:39:00.005-05:00

My very first assignment for my food studies class was to explore an ethnic market, conducting interviews with employees and soaking up the cultural bliss that accompanies ethnicity-specific grocery stores. Naturally, I just had to wait until the last day before the paper was due to begin my journey.

As I walked down Rosemary Street with the specific goal of entering the first ethnic market I came across, I chided myself for having never entered one of the local markets before. The extent of my cultural grocery-shopping experiences have been visits to Trader Joe’s, where I leave with basmati rice and frozen potstickers. I really have no excuse, considering the cultural diversity of the area.

As soon as I saw La Tienda Hispanica, I knew I had reached my destination. Upon entering the store, I was immediately struck by the large amount of brightly colored piñatas overhead. Other than that, the store seemed quite similar to a condensed version of a regular grocery store. Customers are greeted by the sight of plastic-enshrined convenience foods on the left and produce straight ahead.

Of course, as I entered the store further I realized the distinctive differences: tortillas where the bread would be, fruit offerings like papaya, raw meat laid out under a glass front, gelatin in clear plastic bags. With only two aisles, much of the food was typical American grocery products with Spanish names. Then there were also the specialty items, like dulces and galletas familiar to those with a Latino heritage.

As I sought to find the perfect food that would encompass my trip, I finally realized that I stood out like an apple in a bowl of bananas. All of the customers and employees were speaking Spanish, and I was floating around looking lost in a sea of palabras desconocidos. Little did I know that the cultural barrier would be the least of my worries during my trip.

"Hablas íngles?" I asked the man behind the meat counter, keeping my fingers crossed. "Un poco," he replied. Dios mio. Despite my best efforts to learn Spanish in class and while volunteering, I am not exactly a conversationalist. Employing dramatic hand gestures and Spanglish phrases, I tried to convey my hope to find a quintessential Mexican food. In the meantime, I learned that Cipriano was not related to the owner, though he has been employed at La Tienda for several years.

Cipriano was completely willing to translate my Spanglish into something moderately understandable, helping me with the Spanish words I struggled to recall—- about every three sentences.

Then, I met el jefe, Raymundo. He barely knew any English either, so I got in a lot of Spanish conversation practice in thirty minutes. He recommended that I try tortillas con queso, though, unfortunately, I needed something a little more practical for my walk to work. Raymundo explained how he has owned the store for five years, after moving to Chapel Hill from Mexico. He took me on a brief tour of the store, stopping in front of produce to point out their fruity options.

That is when I saw a thick, green, paddle-shaped plant being scraped by one of the employees. Though I was fairly certain of the plant’s identity, Raymundo confirmed it. She was scraping the spines off of cactus leaves. Raymundo said they taste excellent outside on the grill, cooked with a little bit of oil. When I leave dorm life behind, I just might have to try that.

Finally, I asked about the origin of the store’s customers. The cashier said they come from all over: Venezuela, Colombia, Mexico, and El Salvador, to name a few. Their allegiances are strong. I think the appeal of La Tienda Hispanica lies in that diversity. They accepted me just as they accepted the way more fluent Spanish speakers who came before me.

Though I was unable to experience the same community feeling that I am sure customers who can communicate more clearly do, I felt welcomed by Raymundo and his employees regardless. As I left the store, armed with a galleta gigante that Raymundo called pan (unlike any bread I've ever tasted, that's for sure), I enjoyed the sweet taste of a new tradition, topped with coconut and a cherry.

Back from Retreating

2009-01-25T18:41:00.004-05:00

Do I mention enough how much I love retreats?

There's nothing like putting a bunch of people who don't know each other together at a camp in the boondocks. You just never know what may happen.

The discussions, the laughter, the dance parties...

Perhaps what we all need a little more of in this life are retreats. I think I come back to the real world a little bit better than before I left it.

In any case, I just made 46 new friends, and that in and of itself is enough for now.

Darius Goes West

2009-01-22T22:17:00.005-05:00

Wow. I am so utterly impressed by Darius Goes West-- a documentary about a 15-year-old with Duchenne's Muscular Dystrophy who traveled across the country with 11 other guys.

Not much renders me speechless, but I was completely blown away by the quality of that documentary; I don't even know what to mention first.

Lucky for me, some of the crew members actually came into my documentary class today and talked about their journey. I never get tired of hearing those types of stories. Imagine what the world would be like if we all had an extra dose of inspiration each day.

I think what Logan talked about in class, about the effect a narrative can have on achieving a larger mission, really resonated with me once I was able to process the film in its entirety. The guys' goal became all the more meaningful after witnessing the humanity that existed within each member of the crew. The laughter, the tears-- those responses meant more to me than the science and the numbers. I realized that the greatness of this particular piece, and the challenge I face in creating my own documentary, lies in the ability to appeal to the audience's emotions rather than simple logic.

For me, Darius Goes West compelled me to want more than just a cure for muscular dystrophy. I wish that as a global community, we could experience others' lives the way we experienced Darius'. Then perhaps all of us would be less willing to pass judgments, to look the other way.

For the first time, I understand the importance of my choice to be in a filmmaking class. We can effect change, just as those 12 boys from Georgia already have.

The Day of Snow-bama

2009-01-20T13:34:00.004-05:00

Chills ran down my spine today, and not just because of the snow and sub-freezing temperatures.

We officially have our first black president. I shivered as he called upon the heroes of our past - Abraham Lincoln, Martin Luther King, Jr. - to help him lead the way to a more hopeful tomorrow. He has the power to inspire a nation, and he's already done that for so many. I can't wait for more.

And yes, in a day of epic events, it snowed in North Carolina.

Clean & Pristine Cookie-Making Machine

2009-01-19T18:09:00.003-05:00

Can't you just hear the chorus of kitchen gods singing blithely as they revel in the beauty of my lovely KitchenAid mixer?

Well, I can.

I grew up admiring the speed and efficiency with which my mom's KitchenAid whipped up pancake batter, churned through cookie dough and mashed mashed potatoes. And while she still has her tan, early '80s model, I am embarking on a (hopefully) 25-or-so year journey with a newer model of my own. Fortunately, it still conjures up the same delicious memories.

Thus far, I have christened the mixing bowl with dough for chocolate coconut crispies and chocolate chip cookies.

I'd like to thank Craig's List and my neighbor for this opportunity.

So Far

2009-01-15T22:24:00.003-05:00

I may live to regret making this statement, BUT:

I love my classes. I really do. Thus, I will evaluate each one to bring back even more memories of my Xanga years. 'Cause I used to review each day that way. (When school defined my life. Does it still?)

Principles of Public Relations- I enjoy having the unfair advantage of already knowing how public relations operates. But I still think it'll be beneficial to learn some new techniques... or something. Plus, the professor makes me laugh.

Pop Culture & American History- The title sums up the class. And who wouldn't want an entire course devoted to pop culture?

News Writing- See public relations. Hopefully, at this point, I have some knowledge of how to write an article. I'm looking forward to seeing how my writing improves further AND learning lots and lots of new grammar and AP style tips. Yay!

Food in American Culture- Favorite professor plus favorite subject. And food in every class. Need I say more? I can't believe I get major credit for taking a food studies class!

Documenting Communities- I'm excited to learn how to make a documentary/film in general. Plus, I'll learn to appreciate even more of the unique groups surrounding this University. PLUS, I'll get to watch lots and lots of inspirational documentaries made by others.

And that's that. Combined with S.A.I.L. and Admissions Ambassadors and Public Service Scholars activities and work, I think I'll have quite the FUL(L)filling semester.

Two-Two

2009-01-13T19:49:00.007-05:00

I always thought that Karen from The Baby-sitters' Little Sisters series was rather irritating, though I still read and reread those books like nobody's business. Of course, now I realize that she is a visually impaired, bossy know-it-all who has a hard time using her "indoor voice," so I can't easily hate a character who is clearly my literary counterpart.

And lately I've been thinking a lot about those books again, though I'm sure the author had no intention of facilitating any profound thoughts for a girl three times the age of her average audience. But in the book, Karen refers to herself as a two-two since she has two different homes as a result of divorce.

Well, feeling like a two-two is about the most apt description I can come up with to explain my current mindset.

My house in Cary is home. You know, with two cats in the yard and life having been hard at some point I can no longer recall. (See: Our House) It's chock-full of memories and delicious food that I didn't have to make. But home is also my teeny-tiny dorm room in Chapel Hill, with one short roommate and the hard work that must be endured by all college students. (Ahem.)

I love coming back to see my family. But somehow, it's like the new, abridged version of my bedroom serves as a palpable reminder that I've outgrown that home. And the old things I used to do still feel old. Outdated. Yet Chapel Hill is too new, my life here too transient to attach myself permanently to the place. Thus, I remain a two-two.

If home is where the heart is, mine must be lying somewhere on I-40, unable to commit to a permanent pumping grounds.

November Synopsis

2008-11-30T22:18:00.003-05:00

Because I don't have time for an in-depth post, here are the highlights of my life this November. It always proves to be an exciting month.

Obama was elected
I turned 20 and thus became a mature adult
He called me and wished me a happy birthday, a message I promptly deleted
I went on a retreat and made best friends
Three Asians (Chinese, specifically) came home with me for Thanksgiving
I was accepted into the Institute for Political Journalism, Summer 2009
I am going to D.C. in 6 months!

It's a new day... and change has come

2008-11-09T16:49:00.006-05:00

I thought I would add this video I just found of Will.i.am's song "It's a New Day", which debuted on Oprah Friday. I find the placement of the pictures behind him just as moving as the words themselves. I've never been a big fan of the Black Eyed Peas, but this song really is an amazing piece.

I woke up this morning
Feeling brand new
Cause the dreams that I've been dreaming
Have finally came true
Yea, I woke up this morning
Feeling alright
'Cause we weren't fighting for nothing
And the soldiers weren't fighting
For nothing
No, Martin was dreaming for nothing
And Lincoln didn't change it for nothing
And children weren't crying for nothing
It's a new day

Now let's compare that to Sam Cooke's song "A Change is Gonna Come," written in 1963, before the passage of the Civil Rights Act. He died several months after the act was passed. I won't even pretend that both of these songs don't give me chills.

I was born by the river in a little tent
And just like the river, I've been running ever since
It's been a long time coming
But I know a change is gonna come

It's been too hard living, but I'm afraid to die
I don't know what's up there beyond the sky
It's been a long time coming
But I know a change is gonna come

I go to the movie, and I go downtown
Somebody keep telling me "Don't hang around"
It's been a long time coming
But I know a change is gonna come

Then I go to my brother and I say, "Brother, help me please"
But he winds up knocking me back down on my knees

There've been times that I've thought I couldn't last for long
But now I think I'm able to carry on
It's been a long time coming
But I know a change is gonna come

Appropriately enough, Obama quoted this song in his victory speech Tuesday night:
"It's been a long time coming, but tonight, because of what we did on this day, in this election, at this defining moment, change has come to America."

Oh Yes, We Did

2008-11-09T16:11:00.005-05:00

Well, I'm a little delayed in my response, but better late than never.

Even as I was experiencing the present tense on Tuesday night, I already felt like I was living through a moment in history; like we were all there as actors, recreating a defining election day for our country.

It is as though the mental picture I took of the immense crowd on Franklin Street has already been immortalized in U.S. History textbooks. I don't know, maybe it has.

I'm looking forward to seeing what the future holds. There will be little room for error, but there is also so much room for hope. We lost that hope for awhile, but here it is again. With Obama lies possibility and opportunity, the thought that "if we can do this, than we can do anything."

Already, our president-elect has become an icon. Perhaps with time his face will become synonymous with the red, white and blue of the American flag.

It's time for us to accept a new color anyway.

To the tune of "The Apology Song"

2008-10-26T20:40:00.002-04:00

I'm really sorry mom, but your bicycle's been stolen.

I've never had anything stolen from me before. I've never stolen anything before. I can't imagine taking anything that wasn't mine, though thank goodness I've never had to be in a situation desperate enough to necessitate stealing.

I got this sinking feeling in my stomach today when I looked at the empty space on the bike rack where my bicycle had been several days earlier. The lock was simply cut off. And I keep asking myself who would steal bicycle while bawling over the loss. Then again, I would prefer to lose a bicycle rather than something more substantial. Like my car or my mind, for instance.

But still, it's strange, the attachments I form with non-living objects. I have a propensity for personification. Obviously I'm aware of the fact that my bike isn't cold and scared right now. We've just shared a lot of good memories.

In any case, I'll be spending the next few days mourning.

There's Something about the South

2008-10-21T17:40:00.003-04:00

Okay, fine. I'm ready to make a confession after oh, approximately 10 years of denial.

I like the South. I might even love it. And I don't resent my parents for moving us below the Mason-Dixon line.

In fact, I think the decision was an excellent one.

Between my trip to New Orleans and the one I took to Memphis this summer, I have come to realize my great appreciation for southern culture, and perhaps even acknowledged the existence of southern hospitality. (Isn't it funny how going somewhere else is often the only way to know where you are?)

Whether on Beale Street or Bourbon Street, there's no denying an identity unique to the South. I know that those iconic streets don't have the most wholesome reputations, but they remain unapologetic. They are what they are. Even northerners can relate to that.

And the cities themselves are a delicious combination of sensory experiences. There is more than just bright lights and traffic. The food, the music, the people... I've learned that little of it is greasy, whiny and podunk, as I'd previously perceived.

This new perception comes at an interesting period of my life. I've decided that throughout my undoubtedly privileged life, what I have always lacked has been a sense of culture.

Christmas and the occasional deli order of liverwurst. That is essentially the summation of my religious upbringing and understanding of my German heritage. That's fine. I went to the Greek festivals, to Chinatown, to several thousand Italian restaurants thus far. I know I have cultural options if I seek them out, but I feel like I'm lacking the birthright.

I'm probably being silly, because I was lucky to grow up eating out of the American Melting Pot. Sometimes I just wish my spoon knew where to rest its head at night.

The South could be that place for me. I'm not going to live on fried chicken or (ever) listen to country music, but I could definitely return here, upon spending a few years gaining a worldly perspective and whatnot. There's certainly a lure in metropolises where warmth is locally grown.

Maybe there's just something in the water of the Mississippi.

Traveling from one world to another

2008-10-15T11:24:00.004-04:00

I am off to New Orleans!

For whatever reason, I've been listening to Randy Newman's "Louisiana 1927" repeatedly. Maybe it's just providing the strength and motivation I need for the next few days. I will undoubtedly confront a lot of social & political issues, but hopefully encounter a lot of hope as well.

What has happened down here is the wind have changed
Clouds roll in from the north and it started to rain
Rained real hard and rained for a real long time
Six feet of water in the streets of Evangeline

The river rose all day
The river rose all night
Some people got lost in the flood
Some people got away alright
The river have busted through cleard down to Plaquemines
Six feet of water in the streets of Evangelne

Louisiana, Louisiana
They're tryin' to wash us away
They're tryin' to wash us away
Louisiana, Louisiana
They're tryin' to wash us away
They're tryin' to wash us away

President Coolidge came down in a railroad train
With a little fat man with a note-pad in his hand
The President say,
"Little fat man isn't it a shame what the river has done
To this poor crackers land?"

No More Singing the Bus Ride Blues

2008-10-14T16:03:00.004-04:00

Yesterday, as I sat on the bus, headed for the chiropractor, I heard two older women discussing the many afflictions with which they were plagued. Actually, now that I think about it, I would have had plenty of complaints to contribute to the conversation, already, at my age. Mostly courtesy of my spine.

Anyway, one woman had just had her gallbladder removed. (If anybody knows the purpose of that particular organ, please let me know.) She also just underwent hip surgery. The other had just endured a particularly nasty ant attack while in the garden, which reminded the first woman that she'd recently been bitten up by chiggers while lying in bed. Who even knew those still existed?

Their conversation did it for me. Those women officially secured my complete and utter adoration for riding the bus.

There's something so rewarding about taking public transportation. It's giving your seat (to one of those old ladies) just because it's polite. It's reading the tattoo of the rider next to you and wondering what compels him to "write," as spelled out on his arm. It's overhearing a seemingly taboo conversation between two strangers.

I find reassurance in the activity. Sure, the interaction is forced, in some regard. We all have places to go and people to see. People, presumably, other than those on the bus. But for that brief time, I feel so at ease with the knowledge that we're all people, and we're all in this together. (Accidental Ben Lee reference. Good song though.)

In this digital age, I fear we are beginning to forget. Twitter and Facebook status updates keep us linked, but remotely. Can much of an emotional reaction be summoned by 10 words on the screen written by that guy you used to know and don't remember how but the relationship must be important because, after all, you're Facebook friends? But then, what if he was right next to you on the bus?

If the opportunity arose, I would still rather have my car on campus. It's convenient. It's quiet. But I'm also glad I don't have that luxury. I still enjoy being packed into a dangerously crowded bus. Technology makes it easy to hate people, just as it simplifies everything else, but learning people's medical histories on the bus endears me to them once again.

A Big Mountain & The Big Easy

2008-09-15T22:37:00.003-04:00

Today I am exactly one month from going to New Orleans.

Let's hear it for alternative fall break trips!

As well as trips in general. I went to Montreat this weekend for a leadership retreat and it was glorious. I love the beach immensely, but I always forget how nice the mountains are, what with their significantly lower temperatures and legitimate hills.

The peak of the weekend was climbing a mountain on Saturday. How punny.

But more on that later. I have reading to do!

A small step for the GOP, a huge step backwards for ME (and all American women)

2008-09-08T21:27:00.005-04:00

Okay, I swear I'm not making the transition to a political blog. And I'm also aware of the fact that I'm over a week late in responding to McCain's V.P. pick. But I do give myself credit for waiting long enough to learn about Palin before passing judgment. Now I feel entitled.

I am absolutely horrified by her representation of women. Actually, it bothers me that her sex is a huge deal in the first place. Shouldn't her political policies be more important than her vagina? I thought we'd moved past this discrimination, folks. Then, with all of the issues being raised about how Palin raises her children, it's become clear that sex is still ever-so-important. Child rearing is rarely called into question when male politicians are involved.

What does bother me about the way she's raised her children, however, are her hypocritical beliefs. She said Bristol had a choice about whether or not to have her child. That's funny, because while Bristol had a choice, Palin's rigid pro-life doctrine wouldn't allow others that decision. I also feel quite certain that not all young women are fortunate enough to grow up in a supportive environment with the sufficient funds to raise a child. And clearly Palin's belief in abstinence-only education failed too. If it doesn't work with the daughter she raised for the past 17 years, how will other women be more receptive?

I guess what bothers me most is how eerily 1984/Fahrenheit 451-esque the situation has become. Trying to fire a librarian for not taking books Palin didn't agree with out of the library? Believing that the Iraq war and an oil pipeline in Alaska are God's missions? I'm sorry, but I don't want that God, nor anyone who believes in that God, to run our country.

The truth is, I'm terrified of what's to come. I can't imagine living in a virtual theocracy; the very thought makes my ovaries cringe. And yet I also fear what could happen to Obama if he won. At a time when my faith in America was finally being restored, I can't say I'm optimistic.

The Mark of a True Friend

2008-09-03T19:22:00.003-04:00

They'll go with you to the bathroom. They'll pick you up from bizarre locations in the middle of the night. They'll call you out on being a pompous jerk.

And, as I learned this weekend, good friends will not only pee with you, but also pee on you.

Yes, I was stung by a jellyfish on Sunday. I get shivers of pain just thinking about it. Due to my nonexistent experience with these stings prior to several days ago, I thought that that pee was key to recovery. (That really rolls off the tongue nicely. Perhaps I should write public service announcements.)

As one of my friends squatted over my arm in the middle of a public beach, I was struck by her willingness to wash away her sense of decorum with the tide. Then, as my other friend poured a water bottle of her own pee onto my swelling arm, I was primarily impressed with the sheer volume of her contribution. My friends are fearless and generous.

I suppose that the pee friendship test is not practical for any situation other than the unique one in which I was involved. I guess it's just the fact that they would, if they needed to, which reassures me.

As a post script, I will say that I read online that the effectiveness of peeing on a jellyfish sting is mostly determined by the pH of the individual's pee, so vinegar is still the best bet. I would also highly recommend educating yourself before becoming actively involved in ocean water sports.

Really Little People, Big World

2008-08-29T13:13:00.005-04:00

I've seen these on several different sites lately, but only today have I discovered how clever these street art projects by a London artist actually are.

Slinkachu hand paints little people and animals, places them around London and then leaves them there. I'm just in sheer awe of the attention to detail these must have required. Not to mention the perspective one must have to see such small areas as harboring the potential for greatness. (I could turn this into a far deeper analogy, but I'll spare you.)

Of course, if it can be done in London, why not spread the idea to other cities? I'm thinking I'd put my figurine in the unsung heroes statue, probably taking pictures like a tourist at Emperor Qin's Terra-cotta army. Where would you put yours?

In the name of posterity & nostalgia and all things amusing

2008-08-25T19:44:00.006-04:00

Today it occurred to me that even if I don't have time to actually post a substantial entry, I should always try to write something. Looking back on my Xanga Archives from 2004-06, I realized the importance of documenting life, from the mundane to the momentous. Experiences I thought would be in my memory forever have escaped me, and I'm left treasuring these sporadic Xanga posts from high school as my only documentation of those four years. (Granted, they weren't the highlight of my first 19 years, but living one's greatest legacy in high school would be tragic indeed.) Despite my often petty remarks, I won't even pretend that I wasn't talented. And those intensely coded layouts I created... What happened to that Web-savvy girl?!

From now on, I am going to try sincerely to update weekly. Writing is and has always been my creative outlet. (Thanks mom, for transcribing my earliest works!) So, as this entry title suggests, I'm going to take this time to look back. Here's me, 4 years & 2 days ago on a Monday just like this one, except as a sophomore in high school:

"Oh yeah. Another exciting Monday over and done with.

Just got back from the Key Club meeting. God I feel like such a loser saying that. Seriously, I wish I didn't have to be a well-rounded person and join all these clubs just to get into college. If they knew me, they'd love me, clubs or not.

So today. Oh-so fun.

Civics and Economics- Took a quiz, aced it. This class is a joke for the most part. We just learn about Mr. Huff's life. Today we found out how he got out of his many tickets for speeding, etc. Of course I remember the stories but I don't remember of the stuff we "learned." He knows that though, which is good. He really doesn't care. Thank goodness I have this class first thing in the morning!

Geometry- I sat there bored for most of the period. I should probably pay more attention, but whatever. I'm doing okay so far. I'll start to listen when I start doing bad in there. At least I have Katherine in there, she makes the class 9,873,458 times better.

English- Went to the library again today and worked on our Finding Nemo project. It ain't gonna be good, that's for sure. I mean, we definitely worked for the whole period but it was realllly hard to get it all done. Who knows if our skit will even meet the 3.5 minute mark. Oh well. It's a minor grade?

Spanish- Um. We studied the pledge. I'm thinking of memorizing it by tomorrow so I can get extra credit and be an over-achiever. Somehow I don't think this language gets easier, so I'll probably being needing the extra credit at some point.

And that's it? Basically today was a waste of time. I'll be the first one to admit that I like learning new things, but not like this. I hate waking up early, I hate doing hours of homework, and I hate having to sit for like 6 hours a day.

But on a lighter note, my life is going well :-) I won't complain too much, I mean, I know I just did, but everything's going by really fast. And I think this whole year will go by fast. (With luck!)

Hope everyone's doing well. Just remember that you create your own happiness. So if you don't have any, go make some.

Try not to take that in the cheesy advice column sort of way!

I'm gonna start writing my "Slackers' Way to Success" Book soon... so be on the lookout for it on the New York Time's Bestseller List. Yeah. Nice idea Katherine!"

Upon re-reading that, I've determined that perhaps I'm not so different after all. Except, of course, I would never, ever, say, "I'm doing bad" regarding anything. I don't "do bad," but if I had to do something similar, I would "do poorly" instead. I still, however, go into manic panic about my future, though instead of getting into college, now it's all about getting a job.

I do enjoy the perspective I've gained from this little nostalgic activity. I worried about classes then, I'm worried about classes now. Why do I create that stress for myself? My time and energy would be far better suited for other pursuits. I need to stop being such a worry wart. I also need to stop wishing that time would move more quickly because, if anything, I've learned that the only time we have is now. I guess that can be my goal for the semester, in addition to completing assignments two days before they're due. How's that for an unattainable goal?

And, okay, I will take some advice from my past self. I can create happiness in every moment of my life if I so choose. While I'll always need a reason to be upset or angry, I never need a reason to be happy. The power of the blog will not allow me to forget this epiphany, a service that is definitely necessary. Otherwise all of my nails will be bitten away by this time next week.

Time is in my side

2008-07-28T19:49:00.003-04:00

...that is, until school begins again and time continues at this rapid pace. Then I'd prefer Father Time to put every day in slow motion so I will be able to sit back and bask in contentment. I just can't believe that a few posts ago, I was lamenting the two months I had left of summer. And now I'll be back in two weeks!

Fortunately, now that I'm done with my babysitting job, I have a bit more free time. Thus, I have been researching/starting craft projects like a woman who just discovered she had arms. I already made a vase out of old magazines and am currently seeking a sturdy ceramic piece to make a lamp base. I'm pretty excited about testing out my wiring abilities. (My mom, on the other hand, has her doubts.)

I absolutely cannot wait to move into our dorm room and decorate. I've been hoarding interior design ideas like it's my job (and sometimes I do it instead of my job, whoops.) There are so many great blogs I've added to my RSS feed, I'm overwhelmed. In fact, I believe I'll go look at them now...

Arts 'n Crafts

2008-07-20T22:03:00.004-04:00

This weekend, I had the desperate urge to create something. And since making babies was out of the question, I opted to make the world's most fabulous jewelry display. It came to me as an epiphany, driving home from work Friday evening. Window screen and buttons, of course! I immediately set out on a journey that would involve Michael's, JoAnn's and Home Depot. And an immense amount of patience and measuring.

And this is the result:

I would tell you how I made it, but then I couldn't exploit you for a profit, now could I?

Seeking Unnecessary Employment

2008-07-12T20:35:00.005-04:00

I'm not sure of the exact moment that I became addicted to applying for and accepting jobs. It must have been around the same time that I realized that I have expensive dreams.

How does one even combat such an addiction? All I need is computer access and I can be gone for hours, lost in the digital world of endless opportunities. I hesitate to compare my problem to the one men seem to have in regards to porn, but the similarities are there. They fantasize about unrealistic sexual situations and I fantasize about worldly travels and big city living.

I suppose my fantasies may be slightly more attainable. Right?

And it's about more than just money. I crave the experience that goes along with a job-- particularly an exciting one. Plus, the money I earn allows me to add even more experiences to my memory bank through vacations and spontaneous trips with friends. Those moments define ones life far more than most jobs could.

My fears also drive me. The current job market and my dad's tumultuous job history simply make me nervous. I figure that if I can became a Jack-of-most-trades, I'll also always be armed with a back-up plan or two.

So right now, I have four(ish) jobs. I work every day of the week. Just like any addict, I'm not leading the healthiest lifestyle, but I can't seem to stop the endless pattern of working, sleeping and eating. Repeat. As opposed to a drug or sex addict, however, I'm living for the future rather than in the present.

This summer, while definitely exacerbating my desire to return to school, has taught me a valuable lesson. The effort I'm putting into planning the rest of my life will ensure that I never, ever have to work four jobs again. That is both an observation and a promise to myself.

I will always work to live, not live to work.

So if anyone out there in Cyberland is seeking a writer/blogger/babysitter/baker/customer service representative/intern, I'm sorry, but I'm not available.

Until August.

Look What the Cat Dragged In

2008-06-24T17:59:00.004-04:00

It seems that even my cat Elmo has caught on to the "go green" and "save the earth" trends.

While he used to bring the Fresh Catch of the Week straight to our door (which varied between birds, rabbits, moles and mice, depending on the season), he too has begun to fear the endangerment of some of America's most beloved warm-blooded pests. Sometimes he still deems a particularly enticing creature worthy of death, but now he has taken on a more honorable cause.

Serving as a constant reminder of the disgraceful amounts of waste disposed in this country, he has begun bringing home trash. Socks, rags, medical prescriptions-- every article of garbage comes with its own unique story. And a silent but judgmental plea from Elmo to employ the 3 R's. Either that or he has some suggestions on how we can better our lives through material goods.

Take his latest gifts, for example. Is his take home message a desperate plea or a helpful hint?

Lawn care service sign: "Fertilizers from these guys pollute the grass I (shouldn't) eat and the creek water I (shouldn't) drink" OR
"The grass is definitely greener on the neighbors' side of the fence" ?

Spam/scam mail: "Publishers Clearing House Sweepstakes wastes time and paper" OR
"Fill this sucker out so I can finally live the life I deserve" ?

Paper towel: "A tree died so you could dry your hands" OR
"You probably ought to wash your hands more often" ?

Styrofoam steak container: "This stuff takes years to decompose, not the mention the risk of cancer caused by eating red meat!" OR
"MORE STEAK" ?

Maybe I could have better spent my time finding solutions to these problems rather than using up an hour to personify my cat's behaviors, but I'm happy to know he cares. Of course, a really caring pet would spare no expense to please his owner.

The next step is to train him to identify cash, rare metals and designer logos.

2 more months...

2008-06-09T21:16:00.003-04:00

I used to get so irritated when people would ask me, "You must be excited for (high) school to start, aren't you Meghan?"

Uh, try no. People seem to equate success with happiness, but my little 7 to 2 gig didn't bring me much of the latter. (That's not including all the fabulous people with whom I'm still friends.) Now, I'm just about bursting with happiness when I think about school.

Maybe I've become burnt out by my three jobs, but I'm ready to be back at UNC. It's liberating, yet structured at the same time. It's like an extensive cruise where I don't have to establish my sea legs. Or worry about missing the water taxi back to the boat.

I miss my UNC friends and my 200 square-foot room and classes I actually want to attend. I can't wait to live across from The DTH and go on field trips to grocery stores and start my own club.

Somehow, college feels like this little self-contained bubble of hope. Maybe gas prices are high and the war isn't over and our economy is failing, but I see the present mess juxtaposed with the future: the students. And that definitely eases my mind.

You might even say that my freshman year made me an optimist. Any place capable of such a miracle merits another three years.

Year in Review: The Meghan Edition

2008-04-26T15:26:00.007-04:00

In light of The Daily Tar Heel's last daily issue for this school year, which reviewed the occurrences of fall semester 2007 and spring semester 2008, I've decided to write a review of my own. What makes mine better though is that I won't be focusing on anything boring, like my own medical school expansion article that didn't even make it to print. "Online exclusive" sounds good in theory; it's actually incredibly misleading. "Exclusive" implies that the article must be for VIPs only. But no, it's for anyone. Anyone who has nothing better to do than read about yet another campus construction project.

But I digress. As always.

I'm not even sure what I'm going to do this summer without UNC, to be quite honest. I'll miss everything, excluding several factors that were out of my control. (Oh south campus and no air-conditioning, how you caused me such pain.) Even as I sit here procrastinating on studying for finals, I find myself just radiating happiness. I love this place in a way I'm not sure I can really articulate.

In high school, I considered myself a misanthrope. (That's essentially a people-hater, for those of you less familiar with your Latin and Greek roots.) I wanted my column name to be "Misanthrope Meghan" but the majority of the student body wasn't familiar with the term, according to my teacher. I wouldn't want them to misinterpret the meaning as a positive one, after all. I went with "Cynical at 17" instead. Regardless, I wasn't particularly optimistic about the human race in general. As far as I knew, the entire world was a combination of the poverty-stricken and self-absorbed.

I still know this to be true. But what's changed is my perception of the situation. I am not, in fact, the only person in the world who would like to better these issues. Even more shocking is that my personal contributions absolutely pale in comparison to some people's. I've met more civic-minded people during this year than in all my other years combined. And they're students! Much to my surprise, not all young adults are squandering their lives by drinking excessively and having premature sex. I'm just in awe of the dedication and compassion that exudes from every corner of this campus. And I'm relieved to realize that I don't have to save the world alone.

Being a misanthrope wasn't all it seems cracked up to be anyway. After all, hating your own species can prove exhausting. I mean, people are everywhere! They're practically unavoidable! Plus, having friends was hard. I mean, let's be honest. There was a good chance that I didn't like a person simply because evolution did his or her ancestors a really big favor of which we eventually took advantage. I'm not even sure how I managed to maintain relationships. Much like the south's opinion of blacks during slavery, I liked some individuals but not the whole. Several good personalities weren't going to make up for millions of bad ones.

What I understand now is that humans are born inherently good. Of that I am convinced. As I said in my Eve entry, our environment determines so much of what we are and what we will be. Lucky, that's what I am. I had the opportunity to grow up in a supportive home in a great country (during the Clinton years). Most of those that surround me had similar opportunities. We can do amazing things with the gifts we've been given, and we do. How can I doubt humanity when everyone around me is feeding the hungry and building homes and promoting peace and demanding truth? I can't.

For that I am eternally grateful.

I'd much rather live with hope than with doubt. Life is easier, and lord knows that between finals and deadlines, easy doesn't come... easy. I want to soak up every bit of hope and love that emanates from this school. It manifests itself in the smiles I can't hide as I walk through the quad, in the laughter I can't repress as I recall a particular moment. And why should I? Maybe Disney is the happiest place on earth for some people, but mine is right here, with Roy Williams as our Mickey Mouse.

And now, a more sarcastic analysis of various aspects of my year. You had to have known that I couldn't be entirely sentimental and sappy. New students, take note:

Hinton James
Hmm, I wonder why they don't advertise this monstrosity on the campus tour? Just a little too reflective of the projects, perhaps? Despite my fabulous roommate and lovely suitemates, I can't wait to say good riddance! Since the school couldn't afford an A/C unit for my room, couldn't they at least invest in some new, intact letters for the entrance sign? That would at least fool future residents momentarily. The two a.m. fire alarm wake-up calls and 20 minute walks to class will suffice in jading them anyway.

Carolina Dining Services
"Dine" rhymes with "fine," which is ironic in this case. The only fine things I found were hairs in my food. Yummy. I admit that I am a highly selective eater, but does anyone think that these meals should be valued at $8 a pop? Just because someone came up with creative, gourmet names for the most questionable food items doesn't mean I would choose them over the always-classy Spanky's guacamole burger.

Advising
I recently filled out a survey for this University service. One question asked me if I had prepared for my appointment. Well gee, if I didn't, who would? Certainly not the advisers that receive a salary! I've gone to three different ones this year. Now, let's remember that I've been here for one year. They've been here for who knows how long. My future is their job and I can't imagine leaving it in less capable hands. Heck, we ought to be advising them.

Being a White Girl
Try to avoid this condition if at all possible. I'm just not diverse enough to be accepted into much of anything, and my life experiences reflect that. My biggest personal tragedy has been attending a school with an unfavorable male-female ratio. My family is intact. My ethnicity is European, specifically Aryan, and I'm pretty sure none of us were ever persecuted. Basically, this majority group's domination of the school causes reverse discrimination until we get into the workplace, where we can once again experience the regular kind of discrimination in the form of inferior salaries and sexual harassment.

Economics 101
Don't do it!

A Lesson from Barbie World

2008-04-18T18:25:00.003-04:00

When I was born, my mom vowed to never let me play with Barbie dolls. She didn't want me to grow up with a distorted image of female beauty. Of course, not all girls' moms were ex-Catholics like mine, who felt the need to instill a confidence in me that she and her mother lacked, the latter having given birth to 10 children (contraception=sin) and the former growing up in a household where boys did the "real" work.

And so, these other mothers thwarted my mom's plan. Barbies are hard to avoid at friends' houses, and they're the go-to gift for girls under the age of 10. Fortunately, I never found their orange-tinted skin and unnatural hair color particularly appealing. (Some girls clearly idolize her look though, judging by the large population of fake-baked bottle blondes.) Plus, I cut Barbie's hair instead of my own, which had to be a relief to my mom. (As a side note, she did allow me to get a bowl cut one year, at an actual hair cuttery. The pictures, needless to say, are painful.)

Today when I was babysitting, I watched as these two girls played with their own dolls, one Barbie doll and one Bratz doll, commenting on how pretty they were. And man, I thought Barbie was bad, but Bratz take it a step further. The next generation of girls is going to be demanding eye and head enlargement surgeries in addition to breast enhancement and liposuction. Actually, I'm fairly certain that doll manufacturers and plastic surgeons have made some sort of arrangement.

But as I was sitting there, fearing for the future, the two dolls suddenly became interested in seeking boyfriends. In this case, the prospective boy toys were actually lotion and body wash bottles. (More practical than the real thing.) And surprisingly enough, these dolls were incredibly selective. NONE of the options were decent kissers or proper gentlemen. Thus, they were thrown over my legs and into "the ocean."

Despite my concerns, I think these girls know how to handle a guy. And I thought I had learned the same lesson during my Barbie years and beyond. But I held onto a boy even less tangible than theirs for far longer. I realized that my choice to throw him into the ocean was better late than never. After all, there are plenty of other fish, lotions and body washes in the sea.

For Eve

2008-03-12T22:10:00.006-04:00

Now that I've had time to fully process the whirlwind of events that has occurred over the past several days, it's time to reflect. Or rather, do my best to express my newly-altered perspective of humanity.

Eve Carson is gone. Eve, who I interviewed for countless articles, who loved our school so passionately, who could hardly complete a sentence because her enthusiasm was nearly impossible to contain. I always had a hard time getting good quotes from Eve. But she didn't need to say it-- she did it. Truly, her actions were enough.

But what about the actions of others? What about the two men charged with first degree murder? I'm not sure anyone can forgive them for what they've done. A life in exchange for a few more bills stuffed in their wallets. Despite my aversion to full-fledged hatred, I truly despise those two men, no, boys, for what they've done. These days, any excuse for destruction ought to be aimed solely at eradicating evil. I can't imagine any situation in which they could've been involved that necessitated murder. I really can't.

I know that I'm naive and terribly idealistic, but there must be some solution to ending this violence. It's not gun control, it's not capital punishment. I'd hate to think that economic situation and environment are the main factors that contribute to the creation of either an Eve or a murderer, but I also doubt that a few anti-violence policies will suffice.

Then there's Westboro Baptist Church. What would compel a group of people to say that Eve deserved to die? I don't know what I'll do if they show up to her memorial on Tuesday. I can't understand how a religious sect can believe in such an angry and wrathful God. And what's more, I don't think He'd ever "sacrifice" someone like Eve.

Although I've been horrified by some of the behavior I've witnessed during the last few days, I'm also awestruck. Walking around The Pit Thursday was one of the most heart-wrenching moments of my life. And yet immediately, everyone came together. To cry, to comfort, to reach out. The Daily Tar Heel published one of the finest works of journalism I have ever seen. There was more love emanating out of the crowd during that candlelit vigil than there was anger in the actions of those two murderers, than there still is in the minds of those church members.

My iPod played two relevant songs consecutively today. I could go for the cliche Yellowcard song "View from Heaven," but I think that Eve would want us to stay here a little longer and see if we might be able to change the view for ourselves. Thus, Ben Folds' "Still Fighting It":

It was pain
Sunny days and rain
I knew you'd feel the same things

Everybody knows
It sucks to grow up
And everybody does
It's so weird to be back here.
Let me tell you what
The years go on and
We're still fighting it,
We're still fighting it.

The Conversation

2008-02-26T19:59:00.006-05:00

We haven't spoken in two months. Certainly, I wanted some time to myself. A long-distance relationship is merely a cellular commitment and I didn't know if it could last the way my minutes miraculously had. The distance is romantic in concept, in movies, but in practice, every mile intensified the dull ache in my chest. I wanted to ache with purpose. With the knowledge that I was investing my time in something that wouldn't lose its value. I guess I have yet to fully accept that making mistakes is sometimes inevitable.

And at the same time, I blamed you for holding me back merely by existing. How could anyone compare? So unlike anyone I've ever known, and so much like myself. But alas, I concede. I am the guilty party in some regards. I squandered opportunities without your help. I stopped seeking others because I thought you were enough.

I didn't get a chance to recite my rehearsed lines requesting a hiatus before things ended abruptly and, appropriately, online. What began on AIM ceased to be via Facebook. (If there's anything I'd like to apologize for, it's maintaining a digital means of communication.) Thousands and thousands of pixels, but the few words that I wrote, words that occupied so little of the screen, translated to "What's next?" on my screen and "Who's next?" on yours.

The mannerisms, the gestures, the meaningful glances got lost in the airwaves and the only tangible evidence we had of one another was the name on the screen. I thought it was a lifeline. But it's lifeless. And still, I can't bring myself to delete your number. To sever that line completely.

Gaining Some Religion, Part 1: That's me in the corner, meditating

2008-02-17T21:35:00.008-05:00

Remember when we had to read Siddhartha in English class our sophomore year of high school? Well, today I had a flashback to those days of analyzing the symbolism of water and discussing Sidd's sexual fantasies. Or rather, today I recalled my limited knowledge of Buddhism in a useless attempt to make a connection between that God-awful book (pun intended) and my infinitely more bizarre hands-on zen experience. And while I would love to say that my second encounter with the Buddhist religion was more promising, my aching back and lack of inner wisdom indicate otherwise.

Anyway, I suppose that first a little background information is necessary. I'm irreligious. Much like the Swiss, I'm all about neutrality, and my early disillusionment regarding religion has made me a clean slate, a blank page, an empty stone tablet, what have you. The only belief I've had in years has been my faith in myself. I decided about a year ago, however, that I needed to take a dip in the baptismal waters, spout out a little Hebrew, and "om" with purpose. Finally, I am enacting that plan. Who knows? Maybe all I'll wind up with are some WWJD bracelets. Maybe I'll glow with newfound enlightenment.

Maybe I can reclaim for myself what R.E.M. lost.

Back to today. I visited the Chapel Hill Zen Center after corresponding with my ride, B.J., for approximately a month. (We had a lot of scheduling conflicts.) Employing the teachings of Buddha/Sidd (and about a billion other guys whose names we had to chant), the center is a place for self-reflection and meditation. The outside looks like it houses a small family rather than a fat man in a constant state of nirvana. It even has a koi pond. With a bridge.

As for B.J., well, he is a guy I'd like to adopt as my surrogate grandfather. On the way over, he and I discussed American's destruction of the English language, the importance of multilingualism, and his preference for manual transmissions, among other things. Plus, he lives in Pittsboro. Anyone who lives in Pittsboro gets points for the simple act of carrying out most of his or her existence in that fabulously historic and charming town. I'll throw B.J. some karma points because that seems most appropriate in his case.

Being a first-timer at the center, I was put in the library to read up on how to ignore my consciousness, particularly my salivary glands. Nothing disturbs a zen atmosphere quite like an obscenely loud swallow. Then my meditation instructor Paul showed me proper etiquette. Sitting is definitely the hardest part of meditation. You have to situate yourself on this little round pillow, but only the front third of it, in order to place your pelvis in the optimum position. For posture purposes, of course.

I'm not sure exactly how long we meditated, but I failed miserably in my effort. Your focus is supposed to be on your breathing if you're not gifted enough to clear your thoughts automatically. I can't, that's for sure. I guess I can add that to my list of things Chapel Hill has taught me that I actually can't do all that well. I kept trying to count to 10, but my upper back was not adjusted to its new upright attitude and my eyes didn't want to remain downcast yet still open.

After an indeterminate amount of time, we chanted. Some of the chants were in an interpretation of English that I'm sure Faulkner would've enjoyed. Others were in Chinese, Japanese, Sanskrit. I got really good at saying "prajna paramita," or "perfection of wisdom." I was nowhere near perfect or wise, but I do feel more informed. And now I know that Buddhists haven't been missing out on those sah-weet, uplifting gospel songs. Their chants literally made me tap my feet. I hope I didn't look irreverent.

Though completely different than anything I've done before, the entire experience was fascinating.

I liked to bow as a sign of respect. I liked the idea of reaching an inner peace. I liked my shoe-less feet on the soft foyer carpet. I think that my biggest problem was my lack of understanding. At least I have a basic knowledge of western religions. I may not think highly of all of them, but I know the history. I did, after all, have that gold-leafed Bible when I was a kid. Eastern religions are so foreign, so mysterious. Plus, there's that language barrier issue.

I haven't decided whether or not I'll go back.

At last

2008-02-15T22:38:00.004-05:00

A month after creating this blog (and the fabulously clever header above), I have finally had both the opportunity and motivation to post something.

Dozens of thoughts have been running through my mind lately and yet my ability to express them has waned tremendously since my Xanga days. It's hard to admit that I was far more articulate in those whiny and petty adolescent moanings than in probably any paper I've written since. Especially considering that I've now completed almost two semesters of college. Thus, this blog is absolutely necessary. For my writing skills and my sanity.

When I was asking my friend about blogging, he asked me what I wanted to blog about. I still don't know. Maybe I'll make the same trite observations I did when I was 15.

Despite the pensive and rather humorless introduction, I promise that I really am capable of "spreading seeds of happiness." In fact, I'd venture to say that I am a downright amusing person. And if no one else will testify to that, well, I still make myself laugh and that's good enough for me. It's perfectly acceptable to think highly of oneself, provided that there's not too much self-worship involved. That kind of behavior causes wars.

Today's events further led me to believe that a) I am doing far too little to really substantiate my existence, b) There are too many Americans being tragically ignored by "the system," and c) I shouldn't wear my red jacket with Tar Heel blue. The combination of colors is almost as awful and perverse as my need to make a joke while addressing a serious issue.

Anyway, I met with a class of middle schoolers during their field trip lunch at Granville Towers. The students were 6th graders from Durham County learning about college, specifically UNC. (If any college campus could encourage children to apply, I feel certain that its ours.) Rarely though have I been more cognizant of the academic division that exists between my hometown in suburbia and a suffering metropolis like Durham.

They all seemed enthusiastic when I tried to convey to them all the joys of Chapel Hill. And yet I could clearly see that some of these students had failed several times. Their grammar was atrocious (though I'm quite the critic in that regard) and it was evident that many of them were neglected by their parents. A lot of efforts have been put forth to recycle and reduce human waste, but I can't help but feel that, indeed, "the mind is (the most) terrible thing to waste."

I hate that these children have been failed by their parents, failed by their government, and more personally, failed by me. As long as I am not frozen by paralysis, I should be working to improve the lives and situations of others. I'm trying to help, but what I've done has only served as evidence that my attempts have not been nearly enough.

Speaking of which, my lame attempt to negate my disappointment with myself fed at least one homeless person this evening. After volunteering at a birthday party at Kidzu, the mother who organized the party gave me an entire box of pizza, for which I have no use considering our pathetic excuse for a fridge. So I gave it to that famous face of Franklin, the bearded old man known for his excellent guitar interpretations of Cat Stevens songs, among others.

I know, I know. A box of pizza is hardly going to tame that "Wild World" to which that man in particular is familiar. I can safely say, however, that the act left us both a littler happier. Sure, it's hard to get by just upon a smile, but it's a start.