10) "Let's bike there. Because driving will take twice as long."
(The adjustment to living in a place with traffic.)
9)*gasp!* "They're like us!!"
(The adjustment to living in a place with people.)
8) "I hate people."
(Me, after I get off of work everyday. i.e. the adjustment to working with lots of people as a severe introvert. You can assume what most of my prayers are centered around.)
7) "Hola, Pedro. Yo tengo una pregunta sobre una problema en este apartamento..."
(Jose the Repairman calling for outside help every time he's here to fix a problem, which is about once a month.)
6) "Wow, everything's so small. Which I guess is perfect for you guys."
(Everyone who has ever stepped foot in our 700 square foot apartment.)
5) "But honey, where are we going to put it?"
(Me, reference to all the new things we acquire in our apartment, such as a tandem bicycle and a Christmas tree.)
4) "Yeah, but then where are we going to put that?"
(Me, in rebuttal to Steven's idea of where we should put the things
we move in order to fit our newly acquired stuff in our apartment.)
3) "I'm not a goon, I'm your husband!"
(You have to live with him to know that this is justified.)
2) "Crazy woman."
(You have to live with me to know that this is justified.)
1) "We're poor."
(Every time Steven looks at the finances, which is everyday.)
But really, the most common quote by far is simply this:
"I love you."
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
Monday, November 7, 2011
It's none of your business!
One of my biggest pet peeves is when outsiders go digging where they don't belong. Or let me put it this way: when those who are not directly involved in a situation make it their business.
For example, when someone gets engaged and people suddenly get all nosy about their life. You get like, 50 new friend requests on Facebook and every woman ever thinks its their right to know all the intimate details about the wedding. The thing that bugged me the most is when people would demand to see my ring. "Show me your ring!" Excuse me, what? Have we forgotten our manners here? It is my ring, my wedding, my life, and there should be no demands to be included in the details if it does not concern you. In short, it's none of your business.
Another example: the situation involving Jerry Sandusky and Penn State officials. Everybody has opinions, and I understand that. In fact, I am quite pleased to see that people have such vast opinions because it means, no matter where they stand on the issue, they have a moral code. But let's be real:
It's none of your business. Or mine. Or anyone else's except for those directly involved.
And who is directly involved? The university officials, victims, their families and those conducting the legal proceedings.
That's it.
To everyone who doesn't fall into the above categories, do as you did before. I'm not saying ignore it- be aware but be sensitive to the fact that those involved may not want the entire country looking at them, regardless of innocence or guilt. Realize that these are real people.
Also, it is never a wise idea to start flaking out at the first sign of trouble, nor hating anyone due to their actions (especially if you are not directly part of the deal, and therefore naive).
So as you go through life, please remember: 1) your place in different situations, 2) that real people are involved in everything, so try to be a little empathetic and sensitive, and 3) your responses to adversity strengthen or destroy character; there is no middle ground.
For example, when someone gets engaged and people suddenly get all nosy about their life. You get like, 50 new friend requests on Facebook and every woman ever thinks its their right to know all the intimate details about the wedding. The thing that bugged me the most is when people would demand to see my ring. "Show me your ring!" Excuse me, what? Have we forgotten our manners here? It is my ring, my wedding, my life, and there should be no demands to be included in the details if it does not concern you. In short, it's none of your business.
Another example: the situation involving Jerry Sandusky and Penn State officials. Everybody has opinions, and I understand that. In fact, I am quite pleased to see that people have such vast opinions because it means, no matter where they stand on the issue, they have a moral code. But let's be real:
It's none of your business. Or mine. Or anyone else's except for those directly involved.
And who is directly involved? The university officials, victims, their families and those conducting the legal proceedings.
That's it.
To everyone who doesn't fall into the above categories, do as you did before. I'm not saying ignore it- be aware but be sensitive to the fact that those involved may not want the entire country looking at them, regardless of innocence or guilt. Realize that these are real people.
Also, it is never a wise idea to start flaking out at the first sign of trouble, nor hating anyone due to their actions (especially if you are not directly part of the deal, and therefore naive).
So as you go through life, please remember: 1) your place in different situations, 2) that real people are involved in everything, so try to be a little empathetic and sensitive, and 3) your responses to adversity strengthen or destroy character; there is no middle ground.
Thursday, October 13, 2011
All in a day's work
First and foremost, I am absolutely astounded that people actually read my blog. I'm convinced that blogger is doubling the numbers and it's just my mom looking at it multiple times. Or maybe some of you are actually enjoying it? Either way, it's nuts.
Second, you should anticipate many entries about Starbucks because it is just nuts. As the night shift supervisor, Ronnida, says, "I could make webisodes of this place." Yes, she definitely could. So instead of webisode, I'm making blog entries.
You must understand that I am clearly the whitest girl that works there, but they excuse it because they know I'm from the Middle-of-Nowhere, Pennsylvania. Ronnida came up to me the other week as I was going on my break and says, "Can I ask you something?"
"Sure", I respond.
"Are you from Pennsylvania Dutch territory?"
"Well, yeah."
"I knew it!", she exclaims. "You have that kind of an accent."
Well, I've never been told that I've had an accent before, and I'm not sure what to think about it. See, I've always made fun of people that have that twang (just ask my mom when she says the word "measure" around Ian and I.) Darn it, I guess everything comes full circle.
I'm also the clumsiest person that they have probably ever had working at this Starbucks. I knock stacks of cups and lids all over the floor on a regular basis, send pastries flying through the air, and leave the spout open when brewing coffee, resulting in a very, very large, steamy puddle.
This past Monday, I was dumping out coffee as one of my co-workers, Lauren, went to rinse a pitcher out at the same time. The result was me blasting the back of her hand with 200 degree coffee. She put some cream and a bandage over it, but it was so bad that my manager, Shad, had to go to Rite Aid and get her super-intense gauze to put over her super-intense bandage. I felt absolutely terrible, but Lauren wasn't angry, which was a blessing. *Sigh* They are totally going to fire me soon.
But alas, one precious moment I was lucky to be the bystander instead of the one causing problems. Ronnida was dismantling the iced coffee machine to wash it, when all of a sudden the spout goes flying off and iced coffee starts shooting (shooting, not just pouring; it was moving with force) across the entire bar.
"Oh gracious! Oh gracious!", she starts yelling. At this point, I'm doubled over because: 1) I'm grateful this isn't happening to me, and 2) it's just hilarious.
"Alisha! Would you stop laughing and come here!?"
So I compose myself and run over and stick my finger in the machine. I definitely felt like the little Dutch kid in the story who plugged the dam with his finger, which I suppose is appropriate since I already have the accent. I should also mention that this came full circle: later, I forgot to close the spout as I was cleaning the coffee urn, so hot water started dripping on the counter, down the cabinets, and onto the floor.
Finally, I am appalled and somewhat disgusted at how many guys hit on me while I'm taking their order. I'm wearing an apron that makes a burlap sack look fashionable with bags under my eyes because I've been working since 4:15 am. (On a side note: I'm sure it's a lot more guys than I notice since I'm 99% oblivious to this type of thing; Steven went out of his way for 3 weeks to hit on me before we started dating and I didn't realize it until our one year anniversary....)
Except this next situation was pretty obvious. I was working on restocking the pastry case, when this mid-20's guy comes over. He has the audacity to say, "You know, I looked at you, and I looked at those pastries, and I asked myself, 'Which one would be more delicious?' And I decided you were."
Oh. gracious.
Where do I even begin with this? Oh, I know: GROSS! But since I'm not allowed to tell off customers at work, I just said, "Thank you?"and decided I should get my huge diamond ring cleaned that my husband gave me. I guess this happens frequently at Starbucks, because my female co-workers were zero help, although I did see one of our regular customers, Pete, shooting daggers at him with his eyes. All I have to say is, I hope this translates into some awesome tips.
So that's my job, which has proven to be much more interesting and challenging than I ever thought it would be. But Ronnida is right, we could totally make some webisodes about this place.
Second, you should anticipate many entries about Starbucks because it is just nuts. As the night shift supervisor, Ronnida, says, "I could make webisodes of this place." Yes, she definitely could. So instead of webisode, I'm making blog entries.
You must understand that I am clearly the whitest girl that works there, but they excuse it because they know I'm from the Middle-of-Nowhere, Pennsylvania. Ronnida came up to me the other week as I was going on my break and says, "Can I ask you something?"
"Sure", I respond.
"Are you from Pennsylvania Dutch territory?"
"Well, yeah."
"I knew it!", she exclaims. "You have that kind of an accent."
Well, I've never been told that I've had an accent before, and I'm not sure what to think about it. See, I've always made fun of people that have that twang (just ask my mom when she says the word "measure" around Ian and I.) Darn it, I guess everything comes full circle.
I'm also the clumsiest person that they have probably ever had working at this Starbucks. I knock stacks of cups and lids all over the floor on a regular basis, send pastries flying through the air, and leave the spout open when brewing coffee, resulting in a very, very large, steamy puddle.
This past Monday, I was dumping out coffee as one of my co-workers, Lauren, went to rinse a pitcher out at the same time. The result was me blasting the back of her hand with 200 degree coffee. She put some cream and a bandage over it, but it was so bad that my manager, Shad, had to go to Rite Aid and get her super-intense gauze to put over her super-intense bandage. I felt absolutely terrible, but Lauren wasn't angry, which was a blessing. *Sigh* They are totally going to fire me soon.
But alas, one precious moment I was lucky to be the bystander instead of the one causing problems. Ronnida was dismantling the iced coffee machine to wash it, when all of a sudden the spout goes flying off and iced coffee starts shooting (shooting, not just pouring; it was moving with force) across the entire bar.
"Oh gracious! Oh gracious!", she starts yelling. At this point, I'm doubled over because: 1) I'm grateful this isn't happening to me, and 2) it's just hilarious.
"Alisha! Would you stop laughing and come here!?"
So I compose myself and run over and stick my finger in the machine. I definitely felt like the little Dutch kid in the story who plugged the dam with his finger, which I suppose is appropriate since I already have the accent. I should also mention that this came full circle: later, I forgot to close the spout as I was cleaning the coffee urn, so hot water started dripping on the counter, down the cabinets, and onto the floor.
Finally, I am appalled and somewhat disgusted at how many guys hit on me while I'm taking their order. I'm wearing an apron that makes a burlap sack look fashionable with bags under my eyes because I've been working since 4:15 am. (On a side note: I'm sure it's a lot more guys than I notice since I'm 99% oblivious to this type of thing; Steven went out of his way for 3 weeks to hit on me before we started dating and I didn't realize it until our one year anniversary....)
Except this next situation was pretty obvious. I was working on restocking the pastry case, when this mid-20's guy comes over. He has the audacity to say, "You know, I looked at you, and I looked at those pastries, and I asked myself, 'Which one would be more delicious?' And I decided you were."
Oh. gracious.
Where do I even begin with this? Oh, I know: GROSS! But since I'm not allowed to tell off customers at work, I just said, "Thank you?"and decided I should get my huge diamond ring cleaned that my husband gave me. I guess this happens frequently at Starbucks, because my female co-workers were zero help, although I did see one of our regular customers, Pete, shooting daggers at him with his eyes. All I have to say is, I hope this translates into some awesome tips.
So that's my job, which has proven to be much more interesting and challenging than I ever thought it would be. But Ronnida is right, we could totally make some webisodes about this place.
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
People are people.
So Starbucks is actually really well. I'm astonished, probably erroneously, that my fellow employees like me and like working with me. I'm becoming more accustomed to the high maintenance crowd and I'm learning to respond positively to their ridiculous complaints without emotionally internalizing them or giving them a sarcastic reply, which would be oh so easy to do (especially for me).
However, there was one day where they just got to me. I actually had the day off, but I was still really edgy from working the weekend, which is a madhouse. I headed to the post office to send out some shoes, expecting the process to be easy; I had a pre-paid label, the box was taped and ready to go. I should have known better. I stand in line for 10 minutes, and this Superman looking guy calls me up to wait on me. He has a thick Southern accent and mumbles constantly so I have no idea what is he saying. He muttered something, which I picked up as "You can't have that tape on your box". I look at him like he has six heads, and not feeling particularly up for this Battle of the Tape, he reads my mind and says that's been the rule since Christmas. Seeing as how I don't frequent the post office to send out packages and they don't send out memos about this thing, I became frustrated. But Mr. Mumbles was nice and handed me new tape as he disappeared to wait on someone else.
All of a sudden, this guy comes over and says "You can't use that tape! WHERE did you get that tape?!" So I point to Mumbles, and this guy disappears. The tape runs out, so I ask a lady for more. "WHERE did you get that tape?! You can't use that tape!!". She is literally yelling at me. In a post office. Over tape. Oh, seriously? Since I'm on edge, I start to crack. I point at Mumbles, and she says "Oh, you shouldn't have that tape" and disappears.
Recap: 3 people tell me I have the wrong tape, and three people disappear. Where to is beyond me, since it is a post office. I have also been scolded by two of them.
Then elderly Korean Eugene walks over. "Can I have more tape?" "Where you get that tape?", he responds. I'm sure Mumbles at this point is tired of me pointing at him, but I do it again. "Oh no, you suppose to use different tape." And I cracked. "Can you just send this out?!" and I leave the box there, not even making sure it gets sent where it needs to go, step outside of the post office, and start sobbing. Over tape. How embarrassing.
If you ask Steven to tell this story, it goes something like this: "Well, I got this really angry email at work about people in a post office and something about tape. Then I get home, half a bottle of wine is gone, and she's still upset about the post office. I just don't get it."
But it's not about tape or coffee or anything like that. I was truly upset because the urban mentality of life is quite a bit different than the State College mentality of life, and that's harder to get used to then trying to find your way around or adjusting to being away from familiar faces. the difference between commanding and asking, expectations and acknowledgment, and quite frankly, just being a decent human being (ie, respect, politeness, kindness, etc.). And for someone as emotional and introverted as I, it's a tough pill to swallow since: 1) I don't like being a doormat and 2) I have been known, once or twice (... or more), to use my words as my best defense.
But I just don't get it- in what world do people get off treating other people like dirt? Does it happen at some point when they have the life they want, complete with money, a career, and a car, that they feel like those who don't have those things are lesser than they are? Or are people born that way?
The one thing I have learned from various missions trips is that people are people. Everyone is different, but we are all people. We are made of the same stuff. And it breaks my heart that not everyone can see that :(
However, there was one day where they just got to me. I actually had the day off, but I was still really edgy from working the weekend, which is a madhouse. I headed to the post office to send out some shoes, expecting the process to be easy; I had a pre-paid label, the box was taped and ready to go. I should have known better. I stand in line for 10 minutes, and this Superman looking guy calls me up to wait on me. He has a thick Southern accent and mumbles constantly so I have no idea what is he saying. He muttered something, which I picked up as "You can't have that tape on your box". I look at him like he has six heads, and not feeling particularly up for this Battle of the Tape, he reads my mind and says that's been the rule since Christmas. Seeing as how I don't frequent the post office to send out packages and they don't send out memos about this thing, I became frustrated. But Mr. Mumbles was nice and handed me new tape as he disappeared to wait on someone else.
All of a sudden, this guy comes over and says "You can't use that tape! WHERE did you get that tape?!" So I point to Mumbles, and this guy disappears. The tape runs out, so I ask a lady for more. "WHERE did you get that tape?! You can't use that tape!!". She is literally yelling at me. In a post office. Over tape. Oh, seriously? Since I'm on edge, I start to crack. I point at Mumbles, and she says "Oh, you shouldn't have that tape" and disappears.
Recap: 3 people tell me I have the wrong tape, and three people disappear. Where to is beyond me, since it is a post office. I have also been scolded by two of them.
Then elderly Korean Eugene walks over. "Can I have more tape?" "Where you get that tape?", he responds. I'm sure Mumbles at this point is tired of me pointing at him, but I do it again. "Oh no, you suppose to use different tape." And I cracked. "Can you just send this out?!" and I leave the box there, not even making sure it gets sent where it needs to go, step outside of the post office, and start sobbing. Over tape. How embarrassing.
If you ask Steven to tell this story, it goes something like this: "Well, I got this really angry email at work about people in a post office and something about tape. Then I get home, half a bottle of wine is gone, and she's still upset about the post office. I just don't get it."
But it's not about tape or coffee or anything like that. I was truly upset because the urban mentality of life is quite a bit different than the State College mentality of life, and that's harder to get used to then trying to find your way around or adjusting to being away from familiar faces. the difference between commanding and asking, expectations and acknowledgment, and quite frankly, just being a decent human being (ie, respect, politeness, kindness, etc.). And for someone as emotional and introverted as I, it's a tough pill to swallow since: 1) I don't like being a doormat and 2) I have been known, once or twice (... or more), to use my words as my best defense.
But I just don't get it- in what world do people get off treating other people like dirt? Does it happen at some point when they have the life they want, complete with money, a career, and a car, that they feel like those who don't have those things are lesser than they are? Or are people born that way?
The one thing I have learned from various missions trips is that people are people. Everyone is different, but we are all people. We are made of the same stuff. And it breaks my heart that not everyone can see that :(
Monday, September 12, 2011
Family
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| My original family... |
As you can see, my blog got a face lift via inspiration by my sister-in-law Brenda. Brenda is more tech-savvy and a heck of a lot more stylish than I am, so when I saw her working on it (during the Penn State game, that's how we know she married in :-p-but props to her for even being in the same room as football for 3 hours)), I felt like I should follow in her footsteps. Maybe her stylish side will start to rub off on me too... one can always dream, right?
It is no secret that my "family" had been multiplied over the past three months. I have acquired a new set of parents in the form of in-laws, one brother-in-law and three sisters-in-law (I've always wanted a sister, and in the matter of one month I got three. Talk about an abundance of blessings.) And along with the "who" of my family being rearranged, my definition of family has been altered as well. I can state 100% that marrying into the Holdcrofts has positively changed the way that I view family.
Before I met them, family to me was the people that I lived with and some people that I saw on holidays. On my dad's side, I have 22 first cousins and I am the youngest of 8 grandchildren on my mom's side, so I wasn't really close with my extended family. Family were the people that you obligatorily loved, with the select few whom you actually really loved (as I got older, this has changed; I am now close with most of my cousins on my mom's side, and it's awesome when we are together). I had my mom, dad, and brother, and as far as I was concerned, that's really all I needed. When I was in trouble, I had them; when I needed money, I had them (I was usually told to work more hours, however); and when something great happened, we celebrated together.
But then I started dating Steven, and I met one of the kindest, generous, and most chaotic families that exists. Steven is the oldest of 4 and had the energy of a puppy on Five Hour Energy, which set the precedent for the other 3 kids. Each of them played 2 sports seriously, and had a multitude of other activities on top of it. They are always going here or there, spending weekends in Pittsburgh or where the latest tournament is, and planning their next adventure. But despite all of the business, or because of it, they all love spending time together. The first few times I was at the Holdcrofts, I was flabbergasted that all 4 kids were home on Friday hanging out together. I was like, "Who would want to be at home on the weekend when you could go out with friends?! I just want to be out of my house!" But they genuinely love spending time together; they respect each other, compete amiably, and jest affectionately at one another.
That was a radical new idea for me: wanting to spend time with family over friends. And as I was pondering that, I started observing what made the Holdcroft family different from the Brodie family, and it's quite basic: 1) the Holdcrofts (immediate and extended, and the Arnolds as well) are much smaller (Steven has a TOTAL of 6 first cousins) and live in a mostly concentrated area so it's easier to grow together; and 2) Tim and Michele live their lives by one word: give. You give 100% of yourself and your resources to whatever you commit to, whether it is time, energy, money, or whatever else you have. And when it comes to family, you give 150%. (This is not to say that the Brodie family is a bunch of slackers, but its easier to observe something when you are an outsider of the situation. Your shout-out goes without saying.)
Tim and Michele have been abundantly generous to Steven and I from the beginning. From 4 years of long distance dating to a quick engagement and a hurried summer, they have been there every step of the way with open arms, ready and willing to do whatever they can for us. So I've tried adopting that philosophy into my own life. When it comes to my siblings (whether full or legal), Steven and I try to do the best we can for them during the moments that we are together, whether it's going to Kiwi, filling up a gas tank, cooking dinner, or being a Bed and Breakfast for the weekend. We give because we want to, because we were taught by the best, and because family deserves 150% of our efforts. And hopefully someday, we will be able to give back to them a fraction of what they have given to us.
It is much like the Parable of the Talents found in Matthew 25:14-30. We have a little now, but we want to bless others with what we have. If we do that, then we will have an "abundance" promised to us. And I know that Steven and I are already excited to give it our all. Just like we were taught.
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| ...my new family! |
Sunday, August 28, 2011
Happy Natural Disaster Week!
As far as nature is concerned, it has been quite the eventful week. First, there was a 5.8 magnitude earthquake on Tuesday. Then, there was a Category 1 hurricane this weekend. Now, as far as numbers go, they aren't terribly large and aren't expected to cause a lot of destruction. But for a city whose biggest problem is heat and a big snow storm every few years, both of these cause a lot of hype.
I had the day off on Tuesday, so I was just sitting down to lunch when I heard the rumble. The entire thing lasted 30 seconds, but the rumble lasted for at least 10. When I was in Peru in 2009, we had two earthquakes, so my immediate reaction was, "Huh, this feels like that. No way." So I sat and tried to think logically what it could be. "Well, the laundry room is right below us, but that couldn't be it. They aren't doing construction, so that's not it." Pause "Oh wait, now the walls are shaking."
It was at this point that I determined that there is no logical reasoning in my brain during emergency situations. My adrenaline takes over and that's that, which makes me a lousy candidate for any EMS job potentials. I did a quick analysis and determined that I'd rather be outside instead of under a table, and hey, my building wasn't collapsing at the moment, so I sprinted for the door. The door to the building is about 10 feet away, so it wasn't hard to get there. It was only then, when I was the very first person outside, I realized that 1) I was clutching the tofu that I was about to eat for lunch (how classy...) and 2) my response probably could have been dumbed down about 10x and things would have been fine.
When I was in Peru, I woke up to the earthquake. Once again, I thought it wasn't possible, but I realized that everything was shaking. I could make out the walls in the dark, which looked like waves, starting at the bottom and rippling up to the top. I'm not the happiest or most caring person in the world when woken up, so I thought "Eh, it's an earthquake, it will be over soon." And it ended and I went back to sleep. The walls didn't look like that here (Peruvian building codes are slightly different), but I could still see the entire building and surrounding building shaking, which gets your heart racing. Another difference is that I had zero ability to calm myself down, and I'm pretty sure that has to do with one reason and one reason only: in Peru, I only had to watch out for myself (and apparently, when I'm sleeping I really don't care what happens to me). But now, I have Steven. I could not stop thinking about him. I knew that he's smart and strong and was fine, but I just wanted to hear his voice or get an email or something saying that everything was okay (I'm sure all married women can relate). Two hours later, he was at our door, and then finally I could breath again.
Californians hear/feel a 5.8 earthquake and continue on their merry way. DCers feel a 5.8 earthquake and freak, not just because they aren't used to it, but for a different reason. I challenge you to think of it this way: the earthquake started as a rumble for 10 seconds, and then everything started shaking. Almost 10 years ago exactly, a similar situation happened in the Pentagon. They heard a rumble getting closer and closer, and heard a huge crash as everything started shaking there and in the surrounding area. I think if you or I worked in the Pentagon on September 11, 2001 and still worked there today, we would be justified in our over-reaction.
Regardless, here is some political satire for your enjoyment:
I started questioning where exactly I had moved to once I found out that there was a hurricane that was most definitely going to hit us this weekend. Steven peaced out to Rhode Island to visit friends, so I had to hunker down by myself. It should be known that I absolutely hate being alone at night, so I was more afraid of that then this stinking hurricane. Honestly, I was pretty apathetic. Two months ago, our power went out for a night unexpectedly, and we didn't have flashlights or a lighter to light the two candles that we actually have. Apparently, that didn't phase us because we still don't have flashlights or a lighter. I tried to go to Target on Friday to get flashlights, but since they were sold out because the entire metro area was all hyped up about it, I gave up and went home.
Maybe it's because I'm from Pennsylvania and 1) we get a crap-ton of rain every spring (let's revisit the 24 days in April that it rained constantly, shall we?), and 2) the power goes out periodically. For snow storms, for thunderstorms, for no reason at all, the power just goes out. And it always comes back on. It was predicted that Irene would be full-force around 2 am, so I figured that I would go to sleep, the power would go out, and then it would be back on by 9 pm or so when it gets dark. And if all else fails, I'd just go to Ian and Brenda's. Probably not the best plan ever, but it turned out in my favor this time.
All in all, Arlington was only hit mildly. A couple of trees down and power outages, nothing huge. But the further east and south you moved, the worse it was. In Annapolis, the place was flooded by 9 pm. Alexandria was flooded then as well. About 20 miles south, there is still 3-4 feet of water on the roads. Asbury Park was pummeled, as well as the Outer Banks. Here, it just rained and was windy from 1 pm Saturday until about 9 am on Sunday. Nothing terrible.
I can't help but think of the pioneers who went before us who didn't have the media or technology to know that a hurricane was coming their way. "Huh, it looks like its going to rain..." And then it's a hurricane. But if they could do it, we can too, and probably a million times better.
At least we know.
I had the day off on Tuesday, so I was just sitting down to lunch when I heard the rumble. The entire thing lasted 30 seconds, but the rumble lasted for at least 10. When I was in Peru in 2009, we had two earthquakes, so my immediate reaction was, "Huh, this feels like that. No way." So I sat and tried to think logically what it could be. "Well, the laundry room is right below us, but that couldn't be it. They aren't doing construction, so that's not it." Pause "Oh wait, now the walls are shaking."
It was at this point that I determined that there is no logical reasoning in my brain during emergency situations. My adrenaline takes over and that's that, which makes me a lousy candidate for any EMS job potentials. I did a quick analysis and determined that I'd rather be outside instead of under a table, and hey, my building wasn't collapsing at the moment, so I sprinted for the door. The door to the building is about 10 feet away, so it wasn't hard to get there. It was only then, when I was the very first person outside, I realized that 1) I was clutching the tofu that I was about to eat for lunch (how classy...) and 2) my response probably could have been dumbed down about 10x and things would have been fine.
When I was in Peru, I woke up to the earthquake. Once again, I thought it wasn't possible, but I realized that everything was shaking. I could make out the walls in the dark, which looked like waves, starting at the bottom and rippling up to the top. I'm not the happiest or most caring person in the world when woken up, so I thought "Eh, it's an earthquake, it will be over soon." And it ended and I went back to sleep. The walls didn't look like that here (Peruvian building codes are slightly different), but I could still see the entire building and surrounding building shaking, which gets your heart racing. Another difference is that I had zero ability to calm myself down, and I'm pretty sure that has to do with one reason and one reason only: in Peru, I only had to watch out for myself (and apparently, when I'm sleeping I really don't care what happens to me). But now, I have Steven. I could not stop thinking about him. I knew that he's smart and strong and was fine, but I just wanted to hear his voice or get an email or something saying that everything was okay (I'm sure all married women can relate). Two hours later, he was at our door, and then finally I could breath again.
Californians hear/feel a 5.8 earthquake and continue on their merry way. DCers feel a 5.8 earthquake and freak, not just because they aren't used to it, but for a different reason. I challenge you to think of it this way: the earthquake started as a rumble for 10 seconds, and then everything started shaking. Almost 10 years ago exactly, a similar situation happened in the Pentagon. They heard a rumble getting closer and closer, and heard a huge crash as everything started shaking there and in the surrounding area. I think if you or I worked in the Pentagon on September 11, 2001 and still worked there today, we would be justified in our over-reaction.
Regardless, here is some political satire for your enjoyment:
I started questioning where exactly I had moved to once I found out that there was a hurricane that was most definitely going to hit us this weekend. Steven peaced out to Rhode Island to visit friends, so I had to hunker down by myself. It should be known that I absolutely hate being alone at night, so I was more afraid of that then this stinking hurricane. Honestly, I was pretty apathetic. Two months ago, our power went out for a night unexpectedly, and we didn't have flashlights or a lighter to light the two candles that we actually have. Apparently, that didn't phase us because we still don't have flashlights or a lighter. I tried to go to Target on Friday to get flashlights, but since they were sold out because the entire metro area was all hyped up about it, I gave up and went home.
Maybe it's because I'm from Pennsylvania and 1) we get a crap-ton of rain every spring (let's revisit the 24 days in April that it rained constantly, shall we?), and 2) the power goes out periodically. For snow storms, for thunderstorms, for no reason at all, the power just goes out. And it always comes back on. It was predicted that Irene would be full-force around 2 am, so I figured that I would go to sleep, the power would go out, and then it would be back on by 9 pm or so when it gets dark. And if all else fails, I'd just go to Ian and Brenda's. Probably not the best plan ever, but it turned out in my favor this time.
All in all, Arlington was only hit mildly. A couple of trees down and power outages, nothing huge. But the further east and south you moved, the worse it was. In Annapolis, the place was flooded by 9 pm. Alexandria was flooded then as well. About 20 miles south, there is still 3-4 feet of water on the roads. Asbury Park was pummeled, as well as the Outer Banks. Here, it just rained and was windy from 1 pm Saturday until about 9 am on Sunday. Nothing terrible.
I can't help but think of the pioneers who went before us who didn't have the media or technology to know that a hurricane was coming their way. "Huh, it looks like its going to rain..." And then it's a hurricane. But if they could do it, we can too, and probably a million times better.
At least we know.
Monday, August 22, 2011
Starbucks.
I've had 3 successful shifts at Starbucks thus far, and it has been... interesting. I must intro with this disclaimer: I think I'm way too sarcastic to be the perfect barista Starbucks wants me to be. For example, part of my training (about 60 hours... in a coffee shop) includes coffee tasting and coffee pairing. My manager and I take out a bag of coffee, grind it, taste it, and then we are supposed to have a conversation about it, which usually goes something like this:Shad (my manager): "So, what do you taste?"
Me: "Uh... coffee."
Just to let you know, that is the wrong answer. I'm supposed to say something like, "Well, it tastes earthy with a hint of spices as it hits the back of my tongue, noting it's origin in the Asia/Pacific region." Maybe we'll get there.
Customers always prove to be an interesting experience as well. Yesterday I worked on the register the entire shift, which included translating orders ("Yes, I'd like a triple decaf iced grande soy 2 pumps sugar free vanilla latte with whip") into two letter abbreviations on cups and trying to ring it up in a decent amount of time. This one customer, a 5'6", 300 pound Samoan man in a purple shirt approached the counter and wanted a grande (that's a medium for us who speak English and not Starbucks) coffee. Easy beans. Check.
Awkward pause.
"Could I get another one?"
"Sure! You're total is $3.28"
He handed me the money and stared at me strangley. I handed him the change and gave him a polite smile. "Thank you", I said, which was nice for, "Okay, we're done."
"You have nice ice", he said.
Excuse me, what? I have nice ICE?? What is that supposed to mean?! Since I lack tact, that was pretty much the reaction I gave him.
"What?"
"You have nice eyes."
Oh. Heaven. Help. Me.
Once again, since I lack tact, I have absolutely no idea what to say to that besides, "Wow, I can't wait to tell Steven this," or "Uh, thanks, that's, uh, a nice large purple shirt?"
Heaven, in fact, did help me, so I said a quick "Thanks" and went somewhere other then in his line of sight. And on a side note, when I told Steven this, he told me to essentially "milk that for all it was worth- you could get good tips from that." Gee, thanks for the moral support, honey.
Before we get deep, let me call a half-time with this, since I'm SUPER excited for the start of football season:
P.S. According to Wikipedia, Mike Tomlin attends a CMA church in Squirrel Hill. Holler!!
On a different note, my co-workers are... you're typical 20-somethings. In short, their world is Starbucks, and outside of it, there are some other things that may or may not be as important, depending on what's happening with Starbucks that day. They are all friends, roommates, lover, or drinking buddies because of work. Most of them don't seem super-ambitious to find any other job, which I find strange. Their attitudes are generally poor and their language reflects it. Like in college, I feel like I'm about a million miles away from my peers. When they find out I'm 22 and married, their responses are as follows: "You're 22?! You look like you're 18! You're so young to be married! Do you have a kid?"
And, as in college, I find it very hard to explain myself to people who aren't even reading the same book I am, much less on the same page. Then, it was difficult to try and discuss: "No, I'm not career driven; Yes, I want to marry my boyfriend right after college; No, I've never had sex; Yes, I'm "religious" therefore I don't do drugs or drink to get drunk" to people whose main concern is how many weeknights they can get trashed and still graduate with a 3.0. Now, it's hard to explain: "Yes, I'm married young and get true joy out of serving my husband; No, I don't have a kid; No, I can't work Sunday mornings because I go to church; Yes, there is more to life then Starbucks and work in general."
Honestly, it's kind of heartbreaking. Once, I was getting lunch with Sarah Jones, and she was telling me that her first term in Berlin was character-building. And she said something that I'll never forget: "The thing that keeps me going is knowing that lost people matter to Jesus. And that makes me excited to go back for the second term."
Two things have been impressed upon my heart lately: 1) Lost people matter to Jesus, and 2) Colossians 3:23-24: "Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for men, since you now that you will receive an inheritance from the Lord as a reward. It is the Lord Christ you are serving." And I truly believe that if I live out that verse every single day, even if I don't feel like it or are feeling particularly sassy, then lost people will see Jesus. So even if I don't know what deep flavors are in a coffee or if I don't feel like working on a particularly challenging order with a difficult customer, if I live that verse, then the people around me, co-workers and customers included, will see the light of God through me.
And that's not to be taken lightly.
Me: "Uh... coffee."
Just to let you know, that is the wrong answer. I'm supposed to say something like, "Well, it tastes earthy with a hint of spices as it hits the back of my tongue, noting it's origin in the Asia/Pacific region." Maybe we'll get there.
Customers always prove to be an interesting experience as well. Yesterday I worked on the register the entire shift, which included translating orders ("Yes, I'd like a triple decaf iced grande soy 2 pumps sugar free vanilla latte with whip") into two letter abbreviations on cups and trying to ring it up in a decent amount of time. This one customer, a 5'6", 300 pound Samoan man in a purple shirt approached the counter and wanted a grande (that's a medium for us who speak English and not Starbucks) coffee. Easy beans. Check.
Awkward pause.
"Could I get another one?"
"Sure! You're total is $3.28"
He handed me the money and stared at me strangley. I handed him the change and gave him a polite smile. "Thank you", I said, which was nice for, "Okay, we're done."
"You have nice ice", he said.
Excuse me, what? I have nice ICE?? What is that supposed to mean?! Since I lack tact, that was pretty much the reaction I gave him.
"What?"
"You have nice eyes."
Oh. Heaven. Help. Me.
Once again, since I lack tact, I have absolutely no idea what to say to that besides, "Wow, I can't wait to tell Steven this," or "Uh, thanks, that's, uh, a nice large purple shirt?"
Heaven, in fact, did help me, so I said a quick "Thanks" and went somewhere other then in his line of sight. And on a side note, when I told Steven this, he told me to essentially "milk that for all it was worth- you could get good tips from that." Gee, thanks for the moral support, honey.
Before we get deep, let me call a half-time with this, since I'm SUPER excited for the start of football season:
On a different note, my co-workers are... you're typical 20-somethings. In short, their world is Starbucks, and outside of it, there are some other things that may or may not be as important, depending on what's happening with Starbucks that day. They are all friends, roommates, lover, or drinking buddies because of work. Most of them don't seem super-ambitious to find any other job, which I find strange. Their attitudes are generally poor and their language reflects it. Like in college, I feel like I'm about a million miles away from my peers. When they find out I'm 22 and married, their responses are as follows: "You're 22?! You look like you're 18! You're so young to be married! Do you have a kid?"
And, as in college, I find it very hard to explain myself to people who aren't even reading the same book I am, much less on the same page. Then, it was difficult to try and discuss: "No, I'm not career driven; Yes, I want to marry my boyfriend right after college; No, I've never had sex; Yes, I'm "religious" therefore I don't do drugs or drink to get drunk" to people whose main concern is how many weeknights they can get trashed and still graduate with a 3.0. Now, it's hard to explain: "Yes, I'm married young and get true joy out of serving my husband; No, I don't have a kid; No, I can't work Sunday mornings because I go to church; Yes, there is more to life then Starbucks and work in general."
Honestly, it's kind of heartbreaking. Once, I was getting lunch with Sarah Jones, and she was telling me that her first term in Berlin was character-building. And she said something that I'll never forget: "The thing that keeps me going is knowing that lost people matter to Jesus. And that makes me excited to go back for the second term."
Two things have been impressed upon my heart lately: 1) Lost people matter to Jesus, and 2) Colossians 3:23-24: "Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for men, since you now that you will receive an inheritance from the Lord as a reward. It is the Lord Christ you are serving." And I truly believe that if I live out that verse every single day, even if I don't feel like it or are feeling particularly sassy, then lost people will see Jesus. So even if I don't know what deep flavors are in a coffee or if I don't feel like working on a particularly challenging order with a difficult customer, if I live that verse, then the people around me, co-workers and customers included, will see the light of God through me.
And that's not to be taken lightly.
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
Englisch Camp
To be honest, I've been avoiding this entry because I'm finding it hard to explain what English Camp was like, much less trying to be accurate about the entire scenario. But, as Maria sang in "The Sound of Music", let's start at the very beginning, that's a very good place to start...
We (4 Jones', Jakob the translator, 4 State Collegians, and 6 "Crownies"- a groups from crown college) left Berlin on Saturday the 23rd and drove about 90 minutes to the tiny village of Karchow (which is in the state of Mecklenburg-Vorpommern, if you're curious). When I say tiny, I mean it consisted of one street that had the parsonage, old school house, little village church, a cemetery, thatched roof barn, and a few houses on one street. The parsonage was massive compared to all the parsonages I've seen in America, so that's primarily where camp took place. It was 3 floors and housed all 24 of the campers, the entire staff (minus the Jones' and I), 2 English classes, all meals, and a makeshift "office". The other English class, Etwas Mehr (literally "Something More", as in Chapel), and Don, Sarah, Dane, Jenna, and I stayed in the old school house.
As for a schedule, the campers arrived on Sunday and stayed until Saturday the 30th. There were 8 guys and 16 girls that were divided into 6 small groups for the spiritual side of camp and 4 teams for the competitive side of camp. Every morning, the camp would wake up for "Kickin' It Into Gear with Kari", which, loosely translated, means "get your team in order for stretched and a quick workout". Kari Lucas is one of the people from State College who just happens to be a personal trainer. Then it was breakfast, cleaning chores, small groups, English class #1, and lunch. I forget exactly what happened after lunch, but I know there were team competition #1, English class #2, team competition #2, free time, dinner, and free time. After that was Etwas Mehr, which was worship and a message, small groups, and then bed. I was a small group leader, co-leader of the green (affectionately known as the Green Smelly Nachos)/aqua team, and I got to hang out Dane and Jenna during the long English class.
Now this is where it gets tough: trying to describe German teenagers in general and then spiritually. First off, Europe is known to be much more fashionable than America. But in Germany, I use the term "fashionable" lightly. Let's just say that wearing socks with sandals is a common occurrence. There was some mocking of the American style, but quite honestly, take one look in the mirror and then make fun of what I'm wearing. In short, some of the teens at camp looked like they had just come off of the set of "Twilight". Also, there is very little respect of authority, to the point where it felt like pulling teeth when we asked/told them to do something. And spiritually, suffice it to say that there is a huge difference between the former East Germany and the former West Germany. At an American Christian camp, you would expect about 90% of the people to be Christians. Here, it was more like 33%, and those kids tended to be from the former West. This camp has a huge ministry in former East Germany, which brings a lot of opportunity and a lot of spiritual hardness with it.
The lack of respect and the spiritual hardness caused us, as a staff, to shuffle things around the entire week. I started out with 5 girls in my small group, and by Tuesday had 3. We started out with 4 teams, switched them on Tuesday, and then combined them on Thursday. There were 2 guys small groups, but by Tuesday they were one large group. It was definitely a tough, character-building week, but when it was time to compete (and everyone understood what was happening), it was fun. Germans have zero inhibitions about competition- there is always one winner and one loser, not like in America where "everyone is a winner!". We also got to go to the lake for an afternoon and relax (in between running away from the swarms of bees), have a movie night (which EVERYONE loved!), and the staff got to serve the campers dinner on the last night, which is always an awesome experience.
So awesome, in fact, that I leave you with this: Don Jones leading by example and washing the dishes after dinner.
We (4 Jones', Jakob the translator, 4 State Collegians, and 6 "Crownies"- a groups from crown college) left Berlin on Saturday the 23rd and drove about 90 minutes to the tiny village of Karchow (which is in the state of Mecklenburg-Vorpommern, if you're curious). When I say tiny, I mean it consisted of one street that had the parsonage, old school house, little village church, a cemetery, thatched roof barn, and a few houses on one street. The parsonage was massive compared to all the parsonages I've seen in America, so that's primarily where camp took place. It was 3 floors and housed all 24 of the campers, the entire staff (minus the Jones' and I), 2 English classes, all meals, and a makeshift "office". The other English class, Etwas Mehr (literally "Something More", as in Chapel), and Don, Sarah, Dane, Jenna, and I stayed in the old school house.
As for a schedule, the campers arrived on Sunday and stayed until Saturday the 30th. There were 8 guys and 16 girls that were divided into 6 small groups for the spiritual side of camp and 4 teams for the competitive side of camp. Every morning, the camp would wake up for "Kickin' It Into Gear with Kari", which, loosely translated, means "get your team in order for stretched and a quick workout". Kari Lucas is one of the people from State College who just happens to be a personal trainer. Then it was breakfast, cleaning chores, small groups, English class #1, and lunch. I forget exactly what happened after lunch, but I know there were team competition #1, English class #2, team competition #2, free time, dinner, and free time. After that was Etwas Mehr, which was worship and a message, small groups, and then bed. I was a small group leader, co-leader of the green (affectionately known as the Green Smelly Nachos)/aqua team, and I got to hang out Dane and Jenna during the long English class.
Now this is where it gets tough: trying to describe German teenagers in general and then spiritually. First off, Europe is known to be much more fashionable than America. But in Germany, I use the term "fashionable" lightly. Let's just say that wearing socks with sandals is a common occurrence. There was some mocking of the American style, but quite honestly, take one look in the mirror and then make fun of what I'm wearing. In short, some of the teens at camp looked like they had just come off of the set of "Twilight". Also, there is very little respect of authority, to the point where it felt like pulling teeth when we asked/told them to do something. And spiritually, suffice it to say that there is a huge difference between the former East Germany and the former West Germany. At an American Christian camp, you would expect about 90% of the people to be Christians. Here, it was more like 33%, and those kids tended to be from the former West. This camp has a huge ministry in former East Germany, which brings a lot of opportunity and a lot of spiritual hardness with it.
The lack of respect and the spiritual hardness caused us, as a staff, to shuffle things around the entire week. I started out with 5 girls in my small group, and by Tuesday had 3. We started out with 4 teams, switched them on Tuesday, and then combined them on Thursday. There were 2 guys small groups, but by Tuesday they were one large group. It was definitely a tough, character-building week, but when it was time to compete (and everyone understood what was happening), it was fun. Germans have zero inhibitions about competition- there is always one winner and one loser, not like in America where "everyone is a winner!". We also got to go to the lake for an afternoon and relax (in between running away from the swarms of bees), have a movie night (which EVERYONE loved!), and the staff got to serve the campers dinner on the last night, which is always an awesome experience.
So awesome, in fact, that I leave you with this: Don Jones leading by example and washing the dishes after dinner.
Thursday, July 21, 2011
An overview
Here's a quick overview of my first few days in Berlin:
I had to fly on 3 different planes to get here. All were on time, and my luggage was the second one out on the belt. Miracle of miracles. And the Brussels airport is awesome for only one reason: chocolate everywhere. Other than that, it's a stupid layout. But there's chocolate.
I guess I should explain that the point of me being in Berlin is to help out with an English camp that is run by Don Jones (the pastor that married Steven and I). Him and his family live in Berlin as full-time missionaries, and he was on furlough when we got married. English camp is for teens ages 13-17 and has two purposes: to get them better their English and encourage their walk with the Lord. I am going to be a counselor, co-captain for a team, part-time babysitter, and help out with whatever needs done.
The mornings and most of the afternoon have been devoted to planning for camp, which includes games/activities, sports, English lessons, worship songs, meals, etc. In the afternoons, we have been able to go check out some of the cool things in Berlin, like a remaining section of the Berlin Wall, the Berlin Wall Museum, the rememberance church (a church that was bombed during the Cold War and has a real bomb in the basement that was dropped during WW2), and the market on the south side. The market has the Ampelmann Store, which is hands down my favorite store ever. Ampelmann were the East German of the crosswalk people that coordinate with the traffic lights. They are shaped like real little people, complete with suits and hats, and are quite loved by the city. I suppose it's just a historic and cultural thing that united the city after the wall fell.
We've also been eating some legit German food, which is always awesome. We've had real grilled bratwurst, Milka chocolate and Nutella (of course), chocolate croissants (they are European, but vary from country to country), spaetzle (Southern German dish with egg noodles, some sort of pork, and cheese), and a dessert that is essentially cherry pie filling.
There have also been some noteworthy moments thus far. For example, last night Don, Sarah, and I went to bed around 12 or 12:30. I awoke at about 1 to some ridiculous neighbors hanging out in the yard (they've been known to do things like grill at 11 o'clock at night. In fact, they are out there right out talking outside my window. It's 11.) and making tons of noise. Don and Sarah woke up as well, not because of the noise, but because their room was illuminated with green and red flashes like a strobe light. Sarah went over to the window to check it out, and as she got closer, she saw that these ridiculous neighbors had LIGHT SABERS and were playing with them in the yard. At 1 am. Did I mention they are 40 years old? With light sabers. Really?
The following is a conversation that some of the girls and I had with Dane (Don and Sarah's 6 year old son) earlier today:
Dane: "Have you guys ever seen the movie 'Pistachio'?"
Us: "Umm... no..."
Dane: "It's about a boy with a long nose!"
Us: "Do you mean "Pinocchio'!?"
I had to fly on 3 different planes to get here. All were on time, and my luggage was the second one out on the belt. Miracle of miracles. And the Brussels airport is awesome for only one reason: chocolate everywhere. Other than that, it's a stupid layout. But there's chocolate.
I guess I should explain that the point of me being in Berlin is to help out with an English camp that is run by Don Jones (the pastor that married Steven and I). Him and his family live in Berlin as full-time missionaries, and he was on furlough when we got married. English camp is for teens ages 13-17 and has two purposes: to get them better their English and encourage their walk with the Lord. I am going to be a counselor, co-captain for a team, part-time babysitter, and help out with whatever needs done.
The mornings and most of the afternoon have been devoted to planning for camp, which includes games/activities, sports, English lessons, worship songs, meals, etc. In the afternoons, we have been able to go check out some of the cool things in Berlin, like a remaining section of the Berlin Wall, the Berlin Wall Museum, the rememberance church (a church that was bombed during the Cold War and has a real bomb in the basement that was dropped during WW2), and the market on the south side. The market has the Ampelmann Store, which is hands down my favorite store ever. Ampelmann were the East German of the crosswalk people that coordinate with the traffic lights. They are shaped like real little people, complete with suits and hats, and are quite loved by the city. I suppose it's just a historic and cultural thing that united the city after the wall fell.
We've also been eating some legit German food, which is always awesome. We've had real grilled bratwurst, Milka chocolate and Nutella (of course), chocolate croissants (they are European, but vary from country to country), spaetzle (Southern German dish with egg noodles, some sort of pork, and cheese), and a dessert that is essentially cherry pie filling.
There have also been some noteworthy moments thus far. For example, last night Don, Sarah, and I went to bed around 12 or 12:30. I awoke at about 1 to some ridiculous neighbors hanging out in the yard (they've been known to do things like grill at 11 o'clock at night. In fact, they are out there right out talking outside my window. It's 11.) and making tons of noise. Don and Sarah woke up as well, not because of the noise, but because their room was illuminated with green and red flashes like a strobe light. Sarah went over to the window to check it out, and as she got closer, she saw that these ridiculous neighbors had LIGHT SABERS and were playing with them in the yard. At 1 am. Did I mention they are 40 years old? With light sabers. Really?
The following is a conversation that some of the girls and I had with Dane (Don and Sarah's 6 year old son) earlier today:
Dane: "Have you guys ever seen the movie 'Pistachio'?"
Us: "Umm... no..."
Dane: "It's about a boy with a long nose!"
Us: "Do you mean "Pinocchio'!?"
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
From State College to Athens to Berlin
Since I last updated, my brother has gotten married; I went on a service trip to Athens, OH; my brother went on his honeymoon; I returned to my husband for a day; and I went from Reagan to Philly to Brussels to Berlin. And here we are!
Ian and Bren's wedding was... totally Ian and Bren. There's really no better way to put it, so if you know those two, then you know what I mean when I say that. Every detail was created and tailored to their quirky, creative, beautiful personalities and it was wonderful. I do need to see a video though- when being a part of a wedding, many things become blurred. The newlyweds then headed off to Jamaica for their honeymoon, which I'm sure was fabulous.
The day after the wedding I went to Athens, Ohio with SWAT (Students With a Testimony), which is a youth group of the daughter church that my home church planted a few years back. My official title was "meal coordinator", which I absolutely loved, and I served alongside Lissy Muchler and Tim and Sarah Shutes, all of whom I went to Mexico with on a missions trip in 2006. There were 8 students that came along as well and they were either 14 or 16 years old. We worked with Good Works, Inc., which was created and based on James 1:27: "Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world." Essentially, our mission was to serve those that needed it and in various capacities, like just talking with someone who doesn't get a lot of social interaction to taking care of their lawn or fixing a leak. In this part of the country, we were serving the rural poor. Whatever it may have been, Good Works and SWAT were ready to tackle it.
Almost.
Before I went on this trip, I had never mowed a lawn, split wood with a hydraulic splitter, power-washed anything, or planned a meal for lots of people. After the trip, I mowed two lawns (that looked pretty good, if I do say so myself), split wood for 6 hours, power-washed a woman's deck to prep for staining, and planned and bought groceries to make a meal for 130 people.
All the while, I got to meet some amazing individuals. John, who taught me how to split wood, looked like he was Jed Clampett straight off of the Beverly Hillbillies. He spoke long and slow with a bit of a twang, and used words like "poosh" (push) and "golly". We bonded quickly over our mutual love for the Steelers, and worked side-by-side for 6 hours. He wasn't well-educated, but he was witty and had one-liners to die for. Another lady, Anne, is a widow, slightly disabled, unemployed and recently impoverished. She had zero furniture- she used plastic lawn chairs inside to sit on and stumps from trees for end tables. She has an entire house to herself that is unfurnished. But she was incredibly generous- she was so happy that we came over that she fed us what she had, which consisted of white bread, peanut butter and honey, and some fruit. Truly, the widow's offering. Finally, there was Sharon (whose lawn I successfully mowed). She is also a widow and has a 30 year old daughter who is developmentally disabled and has the functioning capacity of a 7 year old. Her days are spent caring for her daughter by herself with very little social interaction. But she has a heart of gold, and kept saying things like, "I thank you so much and I pray God blesses you abundantly. I mean that from the bottom of my heart." Just for mowing her lawn.
On Friday nights at Good Works, they have a community meal that is provided and cooked by the volunteers, i.e. us. We had tons of veggies, whole wheat linguine with roasted vegetables, and fresh fruit salad for dessert. The coolest part was that everyone that we served that week was able to come to the dinner, as well as those from the homeless shelter and the youth group GW runs. I met a lady named Cathy and we talked (and by "we", I mean I said like, 5 words the entire time) for the better part of 2 hours. It goes to show that 1) some people really are lonely and just want someone to talk to, and 2) everyone is more interesting than you or I could ever imagine, so it's worthwhile to strike up a conversation with someone you don't know.
I returned to DC on Saturday night, went to church with Steven, my cousin Alison and her fiancé Johan on Sunday, and headed out on Monday. More on that later!
Ian and Bren's wedding was... totally Ian and Bren. There's really no better way to put it, so if you know those two, then you know what I mean when I say that. Every detail was created and tailored to their quirky, creative, beautiful personalities and it was wonderful. I do need to see a video though- when being a part of a wedding, many things become blurred. The newlyweds then headed off to Jamaica for their honeymoon, which I'm sure was fabulous.
The day after the wedding I went to Athens, Ohio with SWAT (Students With a Testimony), which is a youth group of the daughter church that my home church planted a few years back. My official title was "meal coordinator", which I absolutely loved, and I served alongside Lissy Muchler and Tim and Sarah Shutes, all of whom I went to Mexico with on a missions trip in 2006. There were 8 students that came along as well and they were either 14 or 16 years old. We worked with Good Works, Inc., which was created and based on James 1:27: "Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world." Essentially, our mission was to serve those that needed it and in various capacities, like just talking with someone who doesn't get a lot of social interaction to taking care of their lawn or fixing a leak. In this part of the country, we were serving the rural poor. Whatever it may have been, Good Works and SWAT were ready to tackle it.
Almost.
Before I went on this trip, I had never mowed a lawn, split wood with a hydraulic splitter, power-washed anything, or planned a meal for lots of people. After the trip, I mowed two lawns (that looked pretty good, if I do say so myself), split wood for 6 hours, power-washed a woman's deck to prep for staining, and planned and bought groceries to make a meal for 130 people.
All the while, I got to meet some amazing individuals. John, who taught me how to split wood, looked like he was Jed Clampett straight off of the Beverly Hillbillies. He spoke long and slow with a bit of a twang, and used words like "poosh" (push) and "golly". We bonded quickly over our mutual love for the Steelers, and worked side-by-side for 6 hours. He wasn't well-educated, but he was witty and had one-liners to die for. Another lady, Anne, is a widow, slightly disabled, unemployed and recently impoverished. She had zero furniture- she used plastic lawn chairs inside to sit on and stumps from trees for end tables. She has an entire house to herself that is unfurnished. But she was incredibly generous- she was so happy that we came over that she fed us what she had, which consisted of white bread, peanut butter and honey, and some fruit. Truly, the widow's offering. Finally, there was Sharon (whose lawn I successfully mowed). She is also a widow and has a 30 year old daughter who is developmentally disabled and has the functioning capacity of a 7 year old. Her days are spent caring for her daughter by herself with very little social interaction. But she has a heart of gold, and kept saying things like, "I thank you so much and I pray God blesses you abundantly. I mean that from the bottom of my heart." Just for mowing her lawn.
On Friday nights at Good Works, they have a community meal that is provided and cooked by the volunteers, i.e. us. We had tons of veggies, whole wheat linguine with roasted vegetables, and fresh fruit salad for dessert. The coolest part was that everyone that we served that week was able to come to the dinner, as well as those from the homeless shelter and the youth group GW runs. I met a lady named Cathy and we talked (and by "we", I mean I said like, 5 words the entire time) for the better part of 2 hours. It goes to show that 1) some people really are lonely and just want someone to talk to, and 2) everyone is more interesting than you or I could ever imagine, so it's worthwhile to strike up a conversation with someone you don't know.
I returned to DC on Saturday night, went to church with Steven, my cousin Alison and her fiancé Johan on Sunday, and headed out on Monday. More on that later!
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
Our life is still an adventure
I'm beginning to think that, no matter where I go or what I do, my life is always going to be an adventure. All things that happen to me will range from peculiar to complete blessings to everything in between, and I hope it never ceases.
When I last signed off, Steven and I were gearing up for our first fourth of July in the DC metro area. On Friday, two of Steven's friends from college, Scardo and Higgins, were flying in so I was just planning on doing all wifely duties (cleaning, primarily) while Steven was at work. All of a sudden, around 12:30, someone shows up on my doorstep, ragged and sweaty with a bike, that looked a bit like my husband. Steven said he got off of work early because of the holiday weekend! And I was thrilled to pieces :) It was definitely the biggest blessing in Arlington thus far.
Around 7, we were heading to Pentagon City to pick up Scardo and Higgins when another culture-shock moment occurred. As we bounded to the car, all happy-go-lucky and smiling and laughing, we saw about 8 to 10 police men in bullet proof vests holding M16s and M8s standing outside of the building across the street. All of a sudden, they charged into the building, there was some shouting, all of our happy-go-luckiness was gone and we stared open mouthed at each other. We can't be sure what happen, but we are sure that things like this don't happen on a regular basis in State College. All-in-all, it was pretty anticlimactic (which is actually good in this case), and we continued on our way.
We successfully picked up Steven's friends, Steven directed Robbie to our apartment, and then we decided to meet up with Steven's old roommate, Sam, who is interning in the Capitol Building for the summer. We went to a part of DC called Adam's Morgan, which is north of Georgetown. We spent the better part of an hour just trying to find parking, so (as I knew would happen) Steven dropped us off and then drove to Timbuktu to park on some random, dark, dingy street that we would have to walk to. This is the night that it occurred to me that DC is the place to be for everything who is 21-27 years old because it is happening. We met up with Sam and his roommates/friends at the only place on the street that was blasting techno music (we should have known) and hung out for a few hours. Sam said that this was a low-key night since everyone left for the 4th, but the place was still completely packed.
The next day, Steven and I woke up early and made the guys pancakes and Robbie helped. And now I kind of want everyone I know to come and stay with us so I can make them tons of food. We went into DC via metro and our first stop was the Smithsonian. We only went to the American History Museum, but we got to see Julia Child's kitchen (I was SUPER geeked out about that), something exhibition about cars or mechanics (I went back to Julia's), and we stopped in the military history wing (of course). The military history wing is actually thoroughly interesting, despite whatever political values you hold. And since the Smithsonian is free, it is well worth the trip.
We then went to dinner at Elephant and Castle, where I had my first deep-fried soft pretzels, which were surprisingly good and not terribly greasy. Then, Sam took us to Georgetown, which is an awesome part of the city. The atmosphere is completely different then at the National Mall or Adams Morgan. It's like you cross into historic Richmond with it's slower, classy Southern feel. All the shops there are quaint, chic, and cost a million dollars for a shirt, but it was so nice to just take a deep breath and enjoy the view for a bit. To relate it more to home, it's like a more Southern and old-school version of State College in the summer.
As evening approached, we were all exhausted so we just went back to Sam's apartment in the Eastern Market, which is about 5 blocks away from the Capitol. It's 2 bedroom, 1 bath in a basement that costs a mere $2400/month. Something like that back home *might* be $1500/month. Maybe. One thing Steven and I may never get used to: the extreme cost of living. The Eastern Market is a quiet side of town that has one main strip of restaurants and the rest is residential, so it was nice to continue the "slow down, step back" theme of the night.
The next morning, we headed off to Gettysburg for their big to-do. Gettysburg is only 90 minutes away, so we thought it was worth the time and money. We went to a church in an old school tent, sat on log benches, sang "Amazing Grace" and "The Battle Hymn of the Republic", and got a history lesson of Christianity during the Civil War, which was actually quite interesting. It is said that before Gettysburg and the Civil War, Lincoln did not profess to be a Christian and that only 7% of America attended church regularly. Of course, it all depends on whose point of view you're listening to, but it's still an interesting thought. We then walked around the battlefield, saw Lee's statue, and then went up to see the re-enactment of Pickett's Charge. I wasn't all that into it, but I guess I can say I did it so I never have to do it again.
When we got back to the area, we were planning on heading into the city to see the dress rehearsal of the 4th of July concert that is broadcasted every year on PBS. As we were leaving, we were met with the craziest thunderstorm ever, but we didn't think much of it. Apparently most of the damage happened while we were on the metro, but when we got to the National Mall, huge limbs were down, tents were blown over, displays were ruined, and the entire mall was empty. Because of that, we couldn't go to the dress rehearsal and almost everything else was canceled that night, so we were out of luck. We went over to the Eastern Market for an hour or two and then just headed home.
The next day, I had an interview at Starbucks. Steven drove over with me, and that gave me a peace and confidence that I did not expect. The entire thing lasted all of 15 minutes, but since we knew it was in God's hands, there was no reason to fret over the time. We went back, got our friends, and tried to go to Arlington National Cemetery, which is about 5 minutes from our house. We got lost and drove in circles (as usual), and when we got there the entire thing was blocked off! No one could get into the cemetery without parking at the metro and taking that in. Forget that! Who blocks off the National Cemetery on the 4th of July?! How lame. We ended up just dropping off Steven's friends, saying goodbye to Robbie, and hanging out at home for the rest of the night. Steven and I attempted to go see the fireworks, but by the time we got around to it, they were over. Oh well, we have 3 more chances in the future.
Tuesday came, Steven left for work, and I was left to my own devices to entertain myself/keep the place afloat while trying to be productive all day. I had a second interview at Starbucks and was offered a job, which I was very pleased with and felt very blessed because Steven and I had put this into God's hands. I can't help but feel like this is going to be another adventure of sorts :)
I also finalized the plans of me going to Ohio with Penns Valley Community Church next week on a missions trip, and I'm very happy to have an opportunity to serve! I also have an opportunity to go to Germany to help out with English Camp, so I'm praying and hoping and waiting that it works out monetarily! (And that Starbucks will be understanding). So there's a lot of new and exciting on the horizon, and I know that, in the adventure that is my life, I am very, very blessed.
When I last signed off, Steven and I were gearing up for our first fourth of July in the DC metro area. On Friday, two of Steven's friends from college, Scardo and Higgins, were flying in so I was just planning on doing all wifely duties (cleaning, primarily) while Steven was at work. All of a sudden, around 12:30, someone shows up on my doorstep, ragged and sweaty with a bike, that looked a bit like my husband. Steven said he got off of work early because of the holiday weekend! And I was thrilled to pieces :) It was definitely the biggest blessing in Arlington thus far.
Around 7, we were heading to Pentagon City to pick up Scardo and Higgins when another culture-shock moment occurred. As we bounded to the car, all happy-go-lucky and smiling and laughing, we saw about 8 to 10 police men in bullet proof vests holding M16s and M8s standing outside of the building across the street. All of a sudden, they charged into the building, there was some shouting, all of our happy-go-luckiness was gone and we stared open mouthed at each other. We can't be sure what happen, but we are sure that things like this don't happen on a regular basis in State College. All-in-all, it was pretty anticlimactic (which is actually good in this case), and we continued on our way.
We successfully picked up Steven's friends, Steven directed Robbie to our apartment, and then we decided to meet up with Steven's old roommate, Sam, who is interning in the Capitol Building for the summer. We went to a part of DC called Adam's Morgan, which is north of Georgetown. We spent the better part of an hour just trying to find parking, so (as I knew would happen) Steven dropped us off and then drove to Timbuktu to park on some random, dark, dingy street that we would have to walk to. This is the night that it occurred to me that DC is the place to be for everything who is 21-27 years old because it is happening. We met up with Sam and his roommates/friends at the only place on the street that was blasting techno music (we should have known) and hung out for a few hours. Sam said that this was a low-key night since everyone left for the 4th, but the place was still completely packed.
The next day, Steven and I woke up early and made the guys pancakes and Robbie helped. And now I kind of want everyone I know to come and stay with us so I can make them tons of food. We went into DC via metro and our first stop was the Smithsonian. We only went to the American History Museum, but we got to see Julia Child's kitchen (I was SUPER geeked out about that), something exhibition about cars or mechanics (I went back to Julia's), and we stopped in the military history wing (of course). The military history wing is actually thoroughly interesting, despite whatever political values you hold. And since the Smithsonian is free, it is well worth the trip.
We then went to dinner at Elephant and Castle, where I had my first deep-fried soft pretzels, which were surprisingly good and not terribly greasy. Then, Sam took us to Georgetown, which is an awesome part of the city. The atmosphere is completely different then at the National Mall or Adams Morgan. It's like you cross into historic Richmond with it's slower, classy Southern feel. All the shops there are quaint, chic, and cost a million dollars for a shirt, but it was so nice to just take a deep breath and enjoy the view for a bit. To relate it more to home, it's like a more Southern and old-school version of State College in the summer.
As evening approached, we were all exhausted so we just went back to Sam's apartment in the Eastern Market, which is about 5 blocks away from the Capitol. It's 2 bedroom, 1 bath in a basement that costs a mere $2400/month. Something like that back home *might* be $1500/month. Maybe. One thing Steven and I may never get used to: the extreme cost of living. The Eastern Market is a quiet side of town that has one main strip of restaurants and the rest is residential, so it was nice to continue the "slow down, step back" theme of the night.
The next morning, we headed off to Gettysburg for their big to-do. Gettysburg is only 90 minutes away, so we thought it was worth the time and money. We went to a church in an old school tent, sat on log benches, sang "Amazing Grace" and "The Battle Hymn of the Republic", and got a history lesson of Christianity during the Civil War, which was actually quite interesting. It is said that before Gettysburg and the Civil War, Lincoln did not profess to be a Christian and that only 7% of America attended church regularly. Of course, it all depends on whose point of view you're listening to, but it's still an interesting thought. We then walked around the battlefield, saw Lee's statue, and then went up to see the re-enactment of Pickett's Charge. I wasn't all that into it, but I guess I can say I did it so I never have to do it again.
When we got back to the area, we were planning on heading into the city to see the dress rehearsal of the 4th of July concert that is broadcasted every year on PBS. As we were leaving, we were met with the craziest thunderstorm ever, but we didn't think much of it. Apparently most of the damage happened while we were on the metro, but when we got to the National Mall, huge limbs were down, tents were blown over, displays were ruined, and the entire mall was empty. Because of that, we couldn't go to the dress rehearsal and almost everything else was canceled that night, so we were out of luck. We went over to the Eastern Market for an hour or two and then just headed home.
The next day, I had an interview at Starbucks. Steven drove over with me, and that gave me a peace and confidence that I did not expect. The entire thing lasted all of 15 minutes, but since we knew it was in God's hands, there was no reason to fret over the time. We went back, got our friends, and tried to go to Arlington National Cemetery, which is about 5 minutes from our house. We got lost and drove in circles (as usual), and when we got there the entire thing was blocked off! No one could get into the cemetery without parking at the metro and taking that in. Forget that! Who blocks off the National Cemetery on the 4th of July?! How lame. We ended up just dropping off Steven's friends, saying goodbye to Robbie, and hanging out at home for the rest of the night. Steven and I attempted to go see the fireworks, but by the time we got around to it, they were over. Oh well, we have 3 more chances in the future.
Tuesday came, Steven left for work, and I was left to my own devices to entertain myself/keep the place afloat while trying to be productive all day. I had a second interview at Starbucks and was offered a job, which I was very pleased with and felt very blessed because Steven and I had put this into God's hands. I can't help but feel like this is going to be another adventure of sorts :)
I also finalized the plans of me going to Ohio with Penns Valley Community Church next week on a missions trip, and I'm very happy to have an opportunity to serve! I also have an opportunity to go to Germany to help out with English Camp, so I'm praying and hoping and waiting that it works out monetarily! (And that Starbucks will be understanding). So there's a lot of new and exciting on the horizon, and I know that, in the adventure that is my life, I am very, very blessed.
Friday, July 1, 2011
First week in Arlington
Since I have a slew of "free" time since I'm unemployed, I thought it would be good to update on our first week in Arlington. It was truly quite eventful for me, and I think it's rather funny, so away we go.
We moved on Thursday the 23rd. Steven hitched a U-haul trailer to his 1999 Lexus ES 300 (a sedan), packed up both of our cars, and away we went! I've never lived anywhere else but State College (and I really don't like change), so I knew it would be a little emotionally rough for awhile. It was a tough drive. But we arrived in our little 600 square foot apartment and took the rest of the day to move things in, which was a little tough considering we are both under 5'6" and under 150 pounds. Small people aren't meant to carry queen sized beds and couches without assistance. God knew this, so someone named Christian offered to help Steven carry the queen size mattress. I was a little leery at first, but he didn't linger and made it clear that he wasn't an ex-con or anything, so that's great. Side note: since State College is not ethnically diverse in the least, it is a bit of a culture shock to only have one other Caucasian couple in our building.
Steven started work on Friday the 24th, and it was my job to go buy things for the apartment and unpack. Since we had over $200 to Bed, Bath, and Beyond, I went there. I missed the free parking, and thus started my realization that they charge you to park EVERYWHERE here. If you want to go grocery shopping, be prepared to pay because you just may have to. So those of you in State College, be happy. I stopped for a cup of coffee at a gas station, and when I paid they asked for my ID. I should read the signs before I go into places- it was NEX (Navy Exchange), so I needed a military ID to buy a cup of coffee. I wondered why there was so much cheap liquor in there...
That night, Steven's roommate from college, Sam, came over and we went to Gainesville to get a TV stand, long dresser, tall dresser, and nightstand from Steven's relatives. They said it would be heavy, and they probably couldn't have stressed that enough. The TV stand, the biggest piece, is about 500 pounds (no joke!) because everything is made out of real wood. Um, blessings!
The majority of the time that weekend was spent unpacking/getting settled/buying things for the apartment. As we were doing that on Saturday, Steven was standing by the door with an odd look on his face. "Alisha, come here!" he said. So I went over to the door and we both stuck our heads out. We heard lots of clapping and singing from two doors down. "What is going on?", Steven asked. I listened a little more and could make out that it was in Spanish, and that they were worshiping God. They were having church! After that, I've felt a lot more safe and have put more trust in my neighbors. I'm pretty sure that Christian goes there.
Sunday morning we started our home church shopping marathon. We headed to a United Methodist church down the street and suffice it to say that their doctrine was more... emotional, experiential, and free then we were used to. Not to mention that there were only about 15 people in the service, so the pastor said things like, "We are so happy to see some visitors here!" We totally got called out. Onto the next church...
Monday came and went and I just ran a bunch of errands. I once again went to Bed, Bath, and Beyond, and once again missed the free parking so I had to pay. I really gotta get better at this. At least I didn't purchase coffee without the proper identification this time. I started to feel pretty lonely and started missing all that was familiar (a routine moreso then actually State College. I don't think I'll miss State College for a bit.) I broke down in Steven's arms pretty much as he walked right through the door. Poor guy- he's stressed and exhausted from his new job and his wife is a puddle on the floor when he comes home.
Then Tuesday came. We were going to go to the Navy Yard to get me a dependent ID (which would make shopping at NEX okay.) We left Arlington and drove into DC at 6:30 (am. AM. Driving. In DC.) We missed our turn so we were headed to Anacostia, which is absolutely the WRONG place to be for people like us. We finally made it on base (we had to pay $10 for parking across the street because we forgot the pass), entered, walked for 20 minutes, and ended up where we needed to be by 7:30. When we got called into the office, the guy asked to see our marriage certificate, my driver's license, and my social security card. Well, there's a couple of problems with this. 1) Steven was told we didn't need any of that because the paperwork was cleared, so we didn't bring the marriage certificate. 2) Although my name is legally Alisha Brodie Holdcroft, I have zero pieces of identification with that name on it. So we did it for nothing and had to leave.
So I drove back, took a wrong turn, found a road that could get me where I was going, and turn a wrong turn on the right road. So I went to turn around, but by the time I was in the turning lane I read a sign that said no left hand turns on Monday-Friday from 6 am- 9 am. I was so flustered that I did it anyway, and what do you know? A police officer was sitting right there waiting for me. Nice. I got slapped with a $100 ticket. And when he asked how long I've been in the area, I started bawling, which is slightly embarrassing (and I still got the ticket. Forget that.)
The rest of Tuesday was uneventful because I refused to drive anywhere for the rest of the day. I tried to for the rest of the week, but by the time that Wednesday came, I had to go to Target. Steven and I are very familiar with where Target is, so I felt confident that I could get there. I left at 8:30 and traffic was nuts, so I was a little flustered. When I turned on the road to get to Target, I turned too early and ended up into oncoming traffic. Now, I've seen this happen in State College on College Ave and Beaver, but I never thought I would be the one to do it. That was humiliating.
I got to Target in one piece.... and I forgot my debit card. So I went home and cleaned. I had to go back and the second time was quite successful since I drove on the correct side of the road and had a form of payment- both very handy when going to the store. I also went to Giant, which was successful as well, so I was quite pleased about that. I also put together half the pantry that we got, so I was proud of myself for that as well. I got a postcard from Ashley in the mail, which lifted my spirits more, and for dinner, Ian and Brenda came over which was exactly what I needed. (And they got a place! I'm so excited!)
Thursday came and I was determined not to 1) make any wrong turns, 2) get any traffic tickets, 3) drive into oncoming traffic, or 4) forget any necessary items of payment because I would probably need to go to the store. And I exceeded those goals with flying colors. However, as I was making coffee in my sweet new French press, I stupidly dumped the grounds in the sink without thinking and clogged the garbage disposal. I tried to fix it with Drano, but that didn't work.Another $100 out the window to get it fixed. While baby sitting the garbage disposal, I also wrote and sent out about a million Thank You cards- my arm was sore and I was brain-dead at the end, but I felt accomplished.
It's definitely been an adventure so far, and even though a lot of things have gone wrong, it's been an okay week. I have some exciting things in the future, so hopefully they will pan out. Thank you for all of your prayers! I can definitely tell that they have been working :)
We moved on Thursday the 23rd. Steven hitched a U-haul trailer to his 1999 Lexus ES 300 (a sedan), packed up both of our cars, and away we went! I've never lived anywhere else but State College (and I really don't like change), so I knew it would be a little emotionally rough for awhile. It was a tough drive. But we arrived in our little 600 square foot apartment and took the rest of the day to move things in, which was a little tough considering we are both under 5'6" and under 150 pounds. Small people aren't meant to carry queen sized beds and couches without assistance. God knew this, so someone named Christian offered to help Steven carry the queen size mattress. I was a little leery at first, but he didn't linger and made it clear that he wasn't an ex-con or anything, so that's great. Side note: since State College is not ethnically diverse in the least, it is a bit of a culture shock to only have one other Caucasian couple in our building.
Steven started work on Friday the 24th, and it was my job to go buy things for the apartment and unpack. Since we had over $200 to Bed, Bath, and Beyond, I went there. I missed the free parking, and thus started my realization that they charge you to park EVERYWHERE here. If you want to go grocery shopping, be prepared to pay because you just may have to. So those of you in State College, be happy. I stopped for a cup of coffee at a gas station, and when I paid they asked for my ID. I should read the signs before I go into places- it was NEX (Navy Exchange), so I needed a military ID to buy a cup of coffee. I wondered why there was so much cheap liquor in there...
That night, Steven's roommate from college, Sam, came over and we went to Gainesville to get a TV stand, long dresser, tall dresser, and nightstand from Steven's relatives. They said it would be heavy, and they probably couldn't have stressed that enough. The TV stand, the biggest piece, is about 500 pounds (no joke!) because everything is made out of real wood. Um, blessings!
The majority of the time that weekend was spent unpacking/getting settled/buying things for the apartment. As we were doing that on Saturday, Steven was standing by the door with an odd look on his face. "Alisha, come here!" he said. So I went over to the door and we both stuck our heads out. We heard lots of clapping and singing from two doors down. "What is going on?", Steven asked. I listened a little more and could make out that it was in Spanish, and that they were worshiping God. They were having church! After that, I've felt a lot more safe and have put more trust in my neighbors. I'm pretty sure that Christian goes there.
Sunday morning we started our home church shopping marathon. We headed to a United Methodist church down the street and suffice it to say that their doctrine was more... emotional, experiential, and free then we were used to. Not to mention that there were only about 15 people in the service, so the pastor said things like, "We are so happy to see some visitors here!" We totally got called out. Onto the next church...
Monday came and went and I just ran a bunch of errands. I once again went to Bed, Bath, and Beyond, and once again missed the free parking so I had to pay. I really gotta get better at this. At least I didn't purchase coffee without the proper identification this time. I started to feel pretty lonely and started missing all that was familiar (a routine moreso then actually State College. I don't think I'll miss State College for a bit.) I broke down in Steven's arms pretty much as he walked right through the door. Poor guy- he's stressed and exhausted from his new job and his wife is a puddle on the floor when he comes home.
Then Tuesday came. We were going to go to the Navy Yard to get me a dependent ID (which would make shopping at NEX okay.) We left Arlington and drove into DC at 6:30 (am. AM. Driving. In DC.) We missed our turn so we were headed to Anacostia, which is absolutely the WRONG place to be for people like us. We finally made it on base (we had to pay $10 for parking across the street because we forgot the pass), entered, walked for 20 minutes, and ended up where we needed to be by 7:30. When we got called into the office, the guy asked to see our marriage certificate, my driver's license, and my social security card. Well, there's a couple of problems with this. 1) Steven was told we didn't need any of that because the paperwork was cleared, so we didn't bring the marriage certificate. 2) Although my name is legally Alisha Brodie Holdcroft, I have zero pieces of identification with that name on it. So we did it for nothing and had to leave.
So I drove back, took a wrong turn, found a road that could get me where I was going, and turn a wrong turn on the right road. So I went to turn around, but by the time I was in the turning lane I read a sign that said no left hand turns on Monday-Friday from 6 am- 9 am. I was so flustered that I did it anyway, and what do you know? A police officer was sitting right there waiting for me. Nice. I got slapped with a $100 ticket. And when he asked how long I've been in the area, I started bawling, which is slightly embarrassing (and I still got the ticket. Forget that.)
The rest of Tuesday was uneventful because I refused to drive anywhere for the rest of the day. I tried to for the rest of the week, but by the time that Wednesday came, I had to go to Target. Steven and I are very familiar with where Target is, so I felt confident that I could get there. I left at 8:30 and traffic was nuts, so I was a little flustered. When I turned on the road to get to Target, I turned too early and ended up into oncoming traffic. Now, I've seen this happen in State College on College Ave and Beaver, but I never thought I would be the one to do it. That was humiliating.
I got to Target in one piece.... and I forgot my debit card. So I went home and cleaned. I had to go back and the second time was quite successful since I drove on the correct side of the road and had a form of payment- both very handy when going to the store. I also went to Giant, which was successful as well, so I was quite pleased about that. I also put together half the pantry that we got, so I was proud of myself for that as well. I got a postcard from Ashley in the mail, which lifted my spirits more, and for dinner, Ian and Brenda came over which was exactly what I needed. (And they got a place! I'm so excited!)
Thursday came and I was determined not to 1) make any wrong turns, 2) get any traffic tickets, 3) drive into oncoming traffic, or 4) forget any necessary items of payment because I would probably need to go to the store. And I exceeded those goals with flying colors. However, as I was making coffee in my sweet new French press, I stupidly dumped the grounds in the sink without thinking and clogged the garbage disposal. I tried to fix it with Drano, but that didn't work.Another $100 out the window to get it fixed. While baby sitting the garbage disposal, I also wrote and sent out about a million Thank You cards- my arm was sore and I was brain-dead at the end, but I felt accomplished.
It's definitely been an adventure so far, and even though a lot of things have gone wrong, it's been an okay week. I have some exciting things in the future, so hopefully they will pan out. Thank you for all of your prayers! I can definitely tell that they have been working :)
Sunday, March 13, 2011
T. Swift
Yes, I am making a post about Taylor Swift. Regardless of what you think about her, you have to admit that she is a legitimate musical artist in the pop/country genre (although her rap on SNL was pretty good as well).
First, she is an actual musician who plays actual instruments. Unlike Kesha, Usher, Katie Perry, or other popular artists now, she can actually read and write music and play it herself. She doesn't rely on new technology to mix every song for her- she makes every song. And that, my friends, takes talent.
Second, Taylor Swift is a lyricist. She writes her own songs and has a major say in what happens in her concerts. Now, Katie Perry obviously writes her own songs (as evidenced by "Have you ever felt like a plastic bag...), but that just does not compare to "This is me swallowing my pride standing here in front of you saying I'm sorry for that night...". Yes, they may both be catchy, but honestly- a plastic bag? Taylor Swift is much more poetic and honest, and therefore, infinitely better.
Third, T. Swift (or T. Swizzle if you will), is very business minded. As I mentioned before, she has a major say in what happens in her shows and is in complete control of the direction of her career. If you don't believe me, please check out the 60 Minutes clip/entire hour on her. She is smart and knows what she is doing (a lot like Lady Gaga, but I'll save that for another post). Because of this, I highly doubt that you will see her end up like other famous people: robbing stores (Lindsay Lohan), boozing her heart out (Britney Spears), or doing insane amounts of drugs (which artist do we being with here??).
Lastly, as far as country goes, she knows how to write really sad songs. Tears are the hallmark of a good country song, and Taylor Swift hit that nail on the head.
On a moral note, Taylor Swift is not trashy and she wears real clothes to cover her body. Yes, she may look like a praying mantis and be a serial dater, but she has her head on straight and I highly respect her for that.
You go, Taylor Swift.
First, she is an actual musician who plays actual instruments. Unlike Kesha, Usher, Katie Perry, or other popular artists now, she can actually read and write music and play it herself. She doesn't rely on new technology to mix every song for her- she makes every song. And that, my friends, takes talent.
Second, Taylor Swift is a lyricist. She writes her own songs and has a major say in what happens in her concerts. Now, Katie Perry obviously writes her own songs (as evidenced by "Have you ever felt like a plastic bag...), but that just does not compare to "This is me swallowing my pride standing here in front of you saying I'm sorry for that night...". Yes, they may both be catchy, but honestly- a plastic bag? Taylor Swift is much more poetic and honest, and therefore, infinitely better.
Third, T. Swift (or T. Swizzle if you will), is very business minded. As I mentioned before, she has a major say in what happens in her shows and is in complete control of the direction of her career. If you don't believe me, please check out the 60 Minutes clip/entire hour on her. She is smart and knows what she is doing (a lot like Lady Gaga, but I'll save that for another post). Because of this, I highly doubt that you will see her end up like other famous people: robbing stores (Lindsay Lohan), boozing her heart out (Britney Spears), or doing insane amounts of drugs (which artist do we being with here??).
Lastly, as far as country goes, she knows how to write really sad songs. Tears are the hallmark of a good country song, and Taylor Swift hit that nail on the head.
On a moral note, Taylor Swift is not trashy and she wears real clothes to cover her body. Yes, she may look like a praying mantis and be a serial dater, but she has her head on straight and I highly respect her for that.
You go, Taylor Swift.
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
Goodbye sweets, see you in 40 days!
As you all know (or should be aware), today is Mardi Gras/Fastnacht Day, which means tomorrow is the beginning of Lent. I'm not Catholic, Lutheran, or Episcopalian, but I think Lent is a great practice for everyone. And this year, I'm going big or I'm going home: I'm giving up sweets.
Yes, my friends, I'm saying goodbye to chocolate, candy, cookies, cake (including brownies), and ice cream until Easter. This is going to be extremely difficult for me. I have something sweet everyday, and chocolate is a staple food group in my diet (yes, even nutrition majors have their vices). And, as everything in life, there are multiple reasons, such as depending on God to meet my needs as opposed to immediate, material comforts and getting some direction in life (...and fitting into my wedding dress come June 4th).
Speaking of weddings, plans are coming along swimmingly :) I am so excited to get married... 88 days! Steven and I found our yesterday that we can use his family home in Ireland, so that is where we are going for our honeymoon. I have discovered my biggest pet peeve thus far in wedding planning: people treating me as if I have no idea what I am doing. Yes, I have a lot going on and I have not been married before, but TRUST me- I got this. Please do not relive your wedding through me.
Anyway, I hope you join me in this journey! I'm not asking you to give up sweets, but I ask you to consider giving up something until Easter. It can be a certain food, a certain type of music/movies, Facebook, etc. It could also be adding something to your life, like 30 minutes of exercise 5 days a week, volunteering at a soup kitchen every Saturday, going to church every Sunday, etc. Regardless of what you do, I guarantee that you will grow by the end of it if you sacrifice wholeheartedly and take it seriously. And then let's get coffee- part of the journey is fellowship and support!
Yes, my friends, I'm saying goodbye to chocolate, candy, cookies, cake (including brownies), and ice cream until Easter. This is going to be extremely difficult for me. I have something sweet everyday, and chocolate is a staple food group in my diet (yes, even nutrition majors have their vices). And, as everything in life, there are multiple reasons, such as depending on God to meet my needs as opposed to immediate, material comforts and getting some direction in life (...and fitting into my wedding dress come June 4th).
Speaking of weddings, plans are coming along swimmingly :) I am so excited to get married... 88 days! Steven and I found our yesterday that we can use his family home in Ireland, so that is where we are going for our honeymoon. I have discovered my biggest pet peeve thus far in wedding planning: people treating me as if I have no idea what I am doing. Yes, I have a lot going on and I have not been married before, but TRUST me- I got this. Please do not relive your wedding through me.
Anyway, I hope you join me in this journey! I'm not asking you to give up sweets, but I ask you to consider giving up something until Easter. It can be a certain food, a certain type of music/movies, Facebook, etc. It could also be adding something to your life, like 30 minutes of exercise 5 days a week, volunteering at a soup kitchen every Saturday, going to church every Sunday, etc. Regardless of what you do, I guarantee that you will grow by the end of it if you sacrifice wholeheartedly and take it seriously. And then let's get coffee- part of the journey is fellowship and support!
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