Reflections of a Rose

This past Saturday, my family gathered together to celebrate my cousin's baby shower. When my cousin, Alison, got to a specific gift, my aunt Kathi said, "You HAVE to read the card first!" Inside was a note from my uncle Wayne that read, "This is made out of your grandmother's pajamas, so you'll always remember that she is with you." Alison reached in the bag and pulled out a beautiful pink rose-colored teddy bear, which Kathi had sewn from Mammaw's pajamas, right down to the button eyes.

Mammaw's favorite flower was a rose, which is completely reflected in her personality. As roses are used commonly in formal and elegant occasions, she was regal as well, almost queen-like. She always carried herself confidently, standing tall with an air of pride. She never entered a room loudly, always stepping and speaking lightly, but always making an entrance. Mammaw always had the best manners and held herself and her family to set of high moral conduct. There were rules in Mammaw's house, and those rules were not to be broken.

But as roses are elegant, they always have thorns. Mammaw had a zesty flair to her; a side of sassiness that could never quite be replicated. On one of our last trips to see her, Steven and I rode our tandem bike over two mountains to the picturesque valley of Belleville. Upon hearing that, as she was laying in bed with the effects of cancer apparent, she grimaced and said, "There's something the matter with you!" She always had a wit to make us laugh, and it was usually during the most unexpected moments.

As rose petals are beautiful, they had nothing on Mammaw. From her curly white hair; to those precious, playful baby blues; to the soft, perfect skin; to her hands that had worked so hard- everything about her was gorgeous. Upon meeting her, one could never grasp really how beautiful she was, like a flower that has not yet bloomed. But after time, everyone who knew her saw what was reflected on the outside, as all beauty begins from within.

And just like roses are a symbol of love, I don't believe there has been one person I've known who has loved more than Dorothy Runk. She loved her family deeper than any of us could ever comprehend and sincerely only wanted the best for us. She was never happier than when we stopped by for a visit, even if she hadn't been feeling well for weeks. And because of that love, she prayed for us day in and day out, trusting our souls to Jesus and realizing the best thing she could do is love. And she did that very, very well.

My grandmother passed away in July at the ripe age of 85 after an eight-week battle with uterine cancer. I know we all miss her deeply and it's very hard to overcome our grief from losing the best woman we knew. But just as the note from my uncle said, we will always remember that she is with us, for she will forever be our beautiful rose.

Ten Things I've Learned From One Month of Being Thankful

10) I want nothing more than to be a housewife (to be fair, I already knew this, but being thankful for cooking, cleaning, taking care of my husband, wanting to serve my husband, etc. has really reiterated it).

9) I really love nature (I already knew this one also, but the beauty of it everyday amazes me, and I am genuinely thankful for it. I can't wait to live in the woods).

8) Thankfulness is far too under-rated and under-appreciated. I can only imagine what a great place this city and country would be if people took time to be thankful for what they have, instead of complaining about it or what they are lacking. I have a whole lot of stuff to be thankful for, and not a whole lot of stuff that justifies complaining.

7) I get really weepy when I am floored by some of the things I am deep-down thankful for.

6) I have a very difficult time being thankful for people. I'm not a people-person in the least (read: AT ALL), and it is something on which I need to work very hard. People are, after all, God's greatest creation.

5) Thankfulness is an active choice, not a passive feeling. And it deserves full recognition more than one day a year.

4) "Blessings" and "being blessed" are a completely foreign concept to most people. Which leads me to think, how can I be a blessing to others everyday? Yikes. Heavy thought.

3) Thankfulness is directly correlated to temporary happiness and permanent joy, peace, and hope. The future can be a scary thing to my little human mind, but if I recognize my blessings now, I know I will have abundant blessings in the future as well.

2) IT IS HARD. Being thankful everyday and finding things to be thankful for is a mindset change, not flippant decisions. It's exactly like when people start to lose weight- it's hard because it's a lifestyle change, not a temporary solution.

1) The things that I am most thankful for I don't deserve at all, and are 100% irreplaceable. They deserved to be treasured and recognized as a gift everyday. Thankfulness helps me see the true value in what is around me.

Home

Everyday, I am grateful to have a home.

"Home" used to be the house I would arrive to everyday and know my family would warmly greet me (or tell me to "stop slamming the door!") when I arrived. When Steven and I were dating, I knew I wanted to have a home with him someday because I never loved life more or felt more secure than when I was with him. Then we got married, and moved 3 times in our first 15 months of marriage.

Talk about shaking up the definition of home.

I loved our first apartment- a 700 square foot place that has so many good memories, but we knew from the outset that it wasn't permanent. We moved to Pittsburgh seven months later, and although I loved it dearly, I was never settled and felt pretty home-less. I was going in between two places, both of which could not have been better for the emotional support I needed, but there was no place I could plant my feet and know I would be able to see Steven everyday, which was suddenly reminiscent of our dating years (except it was "short distance" as opposed to long, and that was a weird adjustment since we were married...)

While in Pittsburgh, we dedicated a lot of our time to finding a somewhat permanent home back in Arlington. For months we number-crunched, prayed, looked at listings, drove miles back and forth, and then finally, we found it: our first home.

Sitting in the shire of Shirlington, it's a bit of an ugly duckling to be sure, but it is perfect in everyway. The kitchen appliances from 1981, the wallpaper (OH, the wallpaper!), the mirror that takes up the entire wall in the bathroom- none of it matters, because for the first time in my married life, we are settled, in our place that we own, and I get to see Steven everyday.

In our own home.

The Dog vs. Cat Debate

(pictures couldn't upload. sad face.)

This is a common debate I hear a lot. I've found that people feel very strongly about whether their friends and family should get a dog or cat when considering a pet. No one ever says, "Yes! You should get a FISH!" or "Birds are the best pet of all time." It's always feline vs. canine. (And apparently, when you get your own place, people feel the need to interject their two sense into what animal you should get. As if they will be taking care of it. Right.)

And lately, I have been feeling very strongly about it, too. Steven and I live in South Arlington in a little nook called Shirlington. We absolutely love it! It's quaint and serves as our little oasis in this big metropolitan area. However, one thing I DO NOT love are all the dogs. Dogs are everywhere. There's a dog park. You can take your dog to a restaurant and the restaurant has water dishes. Any given time you walk down the street, you will encounter at least three dog/owner combos, and most of the time it's multiple dogs with one owner. People carry dogs in their over-sized bags.

And this is doing nothing to encourage me to like dogs more. In fact, it is polarizing me as a cat lover. You don't need to take your cat on a walk multiple times a day. A cat won't pee in the middle of the sidewalk or poop on your hydragias (to me, there is nothing more demeaning than picking up fresh dog poop.) A cat doesn't jump on you when you walk in the door (unless it's a planned attack, in which I applaude the clever animal) or sniff your crotch when you first meet it (completely embarrassing, people.) Cats don't make noise either, so the unnecessary barking at stupid stuff really just doesn't happen.  Cats don't beg at the table and watch your every move when eating anything. Also, cats wash themselves- what a bonus!

To me, it's 100% the dog owners fault that they have a terrible dog because they didn't take time to train it. Dogs make great pets because of how trainable they are... if you put in the time, effort, and money to do so. The only dog I have ever loved, Mikita, was trained mainly by my mother-in-law (Michele) and was seriously the BEST dog in the world. Michele could say, "Mikita, you're in the way", and she would always lay down in the same spot and wait until it was safe to move. Mikita knew Michele's every move and made sure she was always relatively close (dogs are also great protectors!). Mikita never barked unless someone who didn't belong in the house approached it. She also didn't jump, sniff body parts, or beg at the table (Steven would put food in front of her, but she would eat it until instructed.). She was phenomenal. But Mikita could have been a "bad" dog if no one took all that time to train her.

I would totally love dogs if all of them were like Mikita and all trainers were like Michele. But they aren't. And that's why I tend to not like dogs. This is not to say that I hate dogs and I will never want to be around them, I just don't engage with them like I do a cat (yes, you can play with a cat- did you know that?!). In fact, Steven and I will probably get a dog before we get a cat, if we ever get a cat. But we need to take a huge chunk of time, and the necessary funds, to train it. We also need a yard; dogs require acreage.

It's all based on personal preference; not one animal is "better". And I prefer cats. Case closed.

Public Service Accouncement (for future housewives of America)

Dear Future Housewives of America,

If you have a dream to become a housewife (which, let's be real, is the best job there is out there), let me give you a little tip that I discovered over the past two years:

DAWN.

That's right, the liquid soap for dishes. But they just have to market it that way because you really can't put into words the magic that it brings. Seriously, magic.

If you have ever seen "My Big Fat Greek Wedding" (which, if you haven't, should go out and get it stat), you know that the father swears by Windex to "fix any ailment, from psoriasis to poison ivy." I feel the same way about Dawn. It can honestly get out anything from any surface. Let me give some examples:
1) I studied for 7 weeks in Italy between my junior and senior years of college. Naturally, I purchased olive oil to bring back. And, naturally, one bottle broke all over my clothes and suitcase. ALL OVER. Nothing was exempt. So I called my future mother-in-law and she was like, "Easy, put Dawn on the oil spots before you wash them." And let me tell you, all the oil came out the first time. I was amazed.
2) Steven and I bike a lot. As in, we have 3 bikes between the two of us, so grease has the potential to get everywhere: skin, carpet, clothes, shoes, gloves, leather, etc. Dawn get it out the first time. This goes for grass stains as well. Forget Resolve or Shout or anything like that... Dawn and warm water works so much better.
3) I'm clumsy and tend to not think things through. If I have coffee over a carpet, especially a cream-colored one, I am guaranteed to spill it (really, it's quite amazing). Or, for example, if an entire bottle of red wine falls onto the carpet and breaks into a million little pieces and wine droplets go a-flying, Dawn is there to save the day. For general stains on carpet (coffee, dirt, etc.), just mix Dawn and hot water and go to town. It takes 5 minutes and the stains are gone, For big stains, like 1 liter of Merlot, mix Dawn and hydrogen peroxide and blot your life away. I'm telling you, it works.

And it must be Dawn, no other variations of liquid dish soap. So if you are out of it or just don't own any, run, don't walk (you may sprint, just don't do anything less than a run) to get yourself the biggest container of Dawn on the market.

You may thank me later.

Restarting. Again.

Steven and I are back in Arlington! We bought a condo, moved all of our stuff in, only unpacked half of it, and then went on vacation for two weeks (as everyone should). And I bet the other half of our stuff is going to stay packed for quite a bit. Yes, I am tired of looking at boxes, carrying boxes, smelling boxes, and tearing down boxes. But the sad reality is, if they stay in the boxes, that means it means we will go back to Pittsburgh, right? Right???

If you know me at all, you know I am pretty much in love with everything about Pittsburgh. It's the only place I ever want to live, call home, and raise a family (in the distant, distant future). And it's not just the sports teams (although yes, I may be slightly fanatical about all things black and gold). So you can imagine it was slightly heart-breaking for me to leave. Both Steven and I had a lot of fun there and had to leave a lot of family, friends, and memories behind. It was like a bad break up; you don't want the relationship to end, but sometimes circumstances conclude that it has to, and then tears ensue. In my case, quite a few tears- sobbing when packing, sobbing when cleaning, sobbing as I left ghetto-Homestead even though I tried to avoid it like the plague when I was close-by.

And I know some of you are thinking ("you", as in my mother), "Well what about State College? You left family and friends behind there!" Yes, okay, I did. I lived my entire life there. But Steven and I started our own lives and can now choose where we want to live. State College served me for a time and it was the best place to grow up, but if it's up to me, I would rather not live there ever again. Sorry, Ma.

So I'm really just trying to prolong my stay in the City of Bridges. I'm not particularly welcoming to the brand new experiences that lay before me. I'd rather be a hermit. I know what you're thinking: "You've lived there before, so it should be an easy transition!" HA. Don't be fooled like I was. I thought it would be better, but it's not. It's still the same routine: learning the geography, adjusting to how cruel, shallow, and impatient the general population is, driving like I just came in from Port-au-Prince (all the time), and having like, two friends. Again (here's to you, Ian and Bren!).

But this is where I have a decision to make. I could be a hermit like I'd love to do, but the kicker is that I would be missing out on God's plans for my life, and I can't sit back and let that happen. I have to catch up my emotional state with my physical one or the transition is just going to be long, rough, and full of remorse. So even if it's Day 1 and I get sworn at vehemently by two drivers and almost get into an accident 4 times in 15 minutes (I'm innocent on all accounts, I promise!), I HAVE to go back out there, fight another day and try my darnedest not to become calloused, jaded, or the epitome of everything I dislike about DC. And that's tough.

But here goes nothing! I'm sure I'll let you know how it goes. Prayers coveted.

Top Ten Things I've Learned About Marriage (in 11 months)

10) Time apart refreshes and rejuvenates your relationship, but sleeping alone is a total bummer.
If you have seen me apart from Steven for any amount of time, I turn into a whiny child (despite our time apart in college). But it helps us refocus, renew, and realize why we decided to marry each other in the first place. (Tip: it doesn't get any easier leaving the one you love. You just have to learn how to deal with it.)

9) The choices and priorities you make on your wedding day are a gauge for what you and your spouse will value in the future.

8) Your spouse will continue to surprise you everyday.

Whether due to character traits or unexplained thought processes and resulting actions, there will always be a certain unpredictability factor that you will need to adjust to and respect. It is that unpredictability that makes your spouse unique and will grow your love and appreciation for them.

7) Passivity has no room in marriage. Whether it's the way you speak, the choices you make, or opinions you have, you need to be ACTIVE about it. Continued passivity will lead to negative feelings on both ends. So, state what you want, what you feel, what you think in a respectful and thought-out manner. For example, women: drop the "hinting" deal. Men don't get it. Don't torture them. If you actually want to get what you're hinting at, just tell them.

Similarly, sarcasm is not an effective form of communication.

As easy and tempting as it is to be sarcastic and sassy (women), it will get you nowhere except into a bigger fight. And it can just confuse the daylights out of your spouse if they can't pick up on it, so once again, don't torture them.

6) There are certain things I am never going to have to do again, and it is GLORIOUS. Said things include: pumping gas; moving big, heavy objects; killing bugs; trying to keep myself warm; protecting myself from the dangerous world outside; etc. And there are certain things that Steven will never have to do again, which I'm sure he finds glorious (worrying about having clean boxers, going into a grocery store alone, feeding himself, having a full bank account, etc.) I heart gender stereotypes.

5) Severe introversion applies to marriage as well.
Starting out, everyone thinks that they want to spend all their time with their spouse and it's going to be great and life is going to be rainbows and butterflies.

Let me shatter this illusion for you if you are a severe introvert like I: You will still want to be alone. And I'm going to guess that your partner is more extroverted than you, and they will not pick up on this nor understand it. So there are three things you can do:
a) Be moody and passive aggressive about the situation. (Tip: DOESN'T WORK)
b) Suck it up and pretend to be extroverted (Tip: DOESN'T WORK)
c) Be active and recognize how you can have alone time and when you need it the most. Chances are, your spouse will respect that and give you room. Make sure to give yourself limits though; leaving your (extroverted, energetic) spouse hanging isn't very kind or conducive to their personality or your relationship.

4) Love: redefined.
As you all know, Steven and I had the privilege of dating long-distance for 4 years. "Love" then was defined by how: a) I felt about him, and b) how my feelings were expressed, and c) what actions those expressions resulted in. Love now is defined by a) respecting and appreciating his decisions and hard work, b) acknowledging those things, and c) doing simple tasks that make his life more enjoyable (scratching him to sleep, washing his clothes, packing his lunches, etc.)

3) Give-take-give-take-give-take; repeat: always. And in that order.

2)  The stronger your marriage grows, you begin to wonder how you were ever a whole person before your wedding day.

Let me sum it up by a cheesy quote from a somewhat cheesy movie: "You complete me."

And the answer is this: you weren't whole before marriage. That's the point of being married.

1) Being Steven's wife is THE BEST JOB I could have ever asked for, dreamed of, or wanted. "Mrs. Steven Holdcroft" is not a title of male dominance, but one that shows my pride in being called this man's wife. I am incredibly blessed.

A Tale of Two Cities

Washington DC: A land flowing with materialism, politics, and money.
Pittsburgh: A land flowing with (literally) steel and blue-collar pride.

So Steven and I are here in Pittsburgh, our second city in 9 months of marriage. And unlike the first move, this one had a trillion bumps in the road that made me promise to become a minimalist for as long as I live.

For those of you who have never been to Pittsburgh, the next few paragraphs should give you an idea of this city of 300,000.

First and foremost, Pittsburgh is a blue-collar city, and they are very proud of it. Tons of abandoned steel mills line the Monongahela River on the south side, serving as a reminder of the city's beginnings. The South Hills is the more "industrial", I-wouldn't-go-running-there-again-without-pepper-spray side that has transformed into the place to be for 20 somethings on a Friday or Saturday night. The North Hills, quite frankly, is where you would find a snob if you were looking for one. It is where all the white-collar folks moved their families to get away from the city. They have about 23849 times more money than the south side, and the entire geographical portion of Pittsburgh knows it. To the east is Monroeville (who kind of live in their own little world) and the airport lies to the west (Hello Ohio!!)

Like I mentioned, Pittsburgh has blue-collar pride. They take pride in working hard no matter what the task, which has really formed a culture that is unique to this city. Because of this, they are therefore appreciative of the money and things that they have, adore/obsess/rally around their sports teams (yes, even the Pirates), and more generous than I could have guessed (my tips increased by 30% literally overnight despite the fact that my store does 2/3 the business of my old store). Pittsburgh-ers are Burgh for life, speak Pittsburgh-ese, and generally don't take life to seriously.

Now let's compare to DC, shall we? Northern VA would be to the North Hills as Maryland is to the South Hills. No one is really from DC; people just migrate in and out as their jobs see fit. Their sports teams are mediocre, and so are their attitudes about them. Most people in DC (or Northern VA at least) expect to get what they want when they want it, and if they don't their worlds are turned upside down and they will let you know it and demand 14 free drinks for the minor inconvenience you just caused them. It is a culture of materialism: everyone drives the nicest cars; wears really expensive clothes; buys $500,000, 700 square feet condos; and is probably in debt up to their ears (except for my brother and sister-in-law for sure... shout out to you).

Yes, DC has class, but so does the Burgh. Downtown has transformed from a lung-cancer-inducing atmosphere of the early 1900's to one of the neatest skylines I have ever seen. New skyscrapers are right next to buildings from the 1800's; art, sports, science, universities, medicine, and a plethora of other areas are showcased in such a small area. And as if you need proof, National Geographic showcased it as one of the best trips to take in 2012 (and I must agree):
http://travel.nationalgeographic.com/travel/best-trips-2012/#/botw-main-gallery-pittsburgh_41334_600x450.jpg

In short, I love Pittsburgh so much because it's unique in that has the small-town mentality but is still a city. The aura of DC can be found in New York, LA, Chicago or other similar cities. Steven and I are loving it here so far and are hoping for a great 6 months ahead.

Top 10 advantages to having a teeny tiny itty bitty apartment

10) Frugality: If you don't have space to put stuff, chances are you aren't going to be buying a lot of excess stuff.

9) Dietary guidance: When your refrigerator is the size of a shoebox, you'll only put staple foods in it, therefore eliminating extra unneccessary calories.

8) Teamwork: You have to work together to make it a decent, functional living space. End of story.

(This is my favorite room in the apartment: Steven's closet+storage area+pantry)

7) Money saver: You can heat the entire thing by turning on the shower and keeping the door open (since we don't pay for water separately from rent, this works out really well)

6) Efficiency: You can stand in the doorway of the bathroom and sweep and mop the entire thing. Same goes for the kitchen.

5) Lost and found: Lose something? It's found within 5 minutes. 10 if it's really lost.

4) Cleaning: You can clean the entire thing in 30 minutes. 45 if you're being thorough.

3) Conflict resolution: During a disagreement with your spouse, there is nowhere to run and hide. You are forced to resolve said disagreement right away (this is better for me than him).

2)  Not too much wall space: Just enough space to hang up our updates from our friends who are making a big impact for the Lord!

1) Memories: It is our first home, and one that I will always love and cherish.

Top Ten Most Common Quotes (for our first 6 months of marriage)

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."

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.

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.

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 :(

Family

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.

...my new family!

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.

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.

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.

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'!?"

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!

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.