Rwanda: Genocide and Countryside

7/22/07 Kigali and the Countryside
I keep feeling like I'm in a movie. This morning we had brunch at the restaurant on the top floor of Les Milles Collines. As we munched on passion fruit and crepes there was a group of white businessmen discussing Rwandan investments the table over. They all had British accents. I felt like they were discussing the diamond trade or something scandalous and exotic like that. Another strange attribute of the hotel - in the bar by the pool downstairs, all they play is Christina Aguilera music. Oh, wait, there was one exception. As we were having a drink, "America the Beautiful" came through the speakers. I was like, what, am I really hearing America the Beautiful at a Rwandan Bar that harbored people from genocide. How is this my life.

On a much, much more somber note - after breakfast we left the sanctuary of the hotel for the dusty streets of the city, and drove to the Genocide Memorial Museum. It's beautiful, clean, and unbelievable. Apparently we were visiting on the anniversary of the end of the genocide, and had to wait to visit the museum until their memorial service ended. The museum was surreal. I got so queasy and was asking God how he was real if he let this stuff happen. They killed one million people. They were absolutely ruthless. Like, they hacked babies to death. They buried people alive. They bulldozed a church full of people. I saw the pictures. Stuff you can't even imagine. I found myself thinking if like is so, so easily thrown away - does it even matter at all? I don't know the genocide doesn't even seem real to me. It seems impossible. But it happened.

I am already less impacted, and my queasiness is dissipating as I write this, and it has only been a few hours. How quickly we forget. I feel like so much has happened in these few hours though. After the memorial, we drove three hours through the Rwandan countryside and omigosh - it was ridiculously beautiful. Just amazing, National Geographic amazing. Luscious hills, covered with banana trees, patchwork fields and quaint village farms. There were bubbling clear streams that you would see women and children carrying water from with fruits and vegetables, loads on their heads and babies strapped to their backs. I'll describe it more later!

Christmastime Break

DING dong merrily the bells.... I'm a little disappointed I didn't hear any ding dong merry bells this season, except maybe like one salvation army guy outside of Cub Foods. It seemed Christmas came and went. I didn't even see it coming. All of a sudden I woke up Monday and it was Christmas Eve. Not even kidding. Good thing I thought ahead and bought all my presents the day before Christmas Eve. I am such a planner

But yea, Christmas snuck up and snuck out. I love Christmas, who doesn't? Sometimes, however, I feel like Christmas makes me a worse person when it's supposed to make me a more joyful and thankful person. I mean, each Christmas, my parents and grandma are ridiculously generous. This year I received a digital camera, Planet Earth dvd's, clothes, make up, money, etc... I am so thankful for my parents to being so generous - but I feel like every Christmas Eve as I finish unwrapping my mountain of presents, I always can think of something I didn't get, or look at what my sisters got and always want more. I want more than I wanted in the first place. Why? Maybe it's just me, but in all honesty I think my Christmas greed is a true testament to how we always want more more more more. And instead of thinking about Jesus on Christmas I start thinking about how I really like the Mac lipgloss set my sister got, maybe a bit more than the Lancome one my mom got me.... PATHETIC!

Well, I just scrooged the Christmas spirit - sorry about that. In other Christmas news it was a cozy holiday in the H-Town. My grandmother talked about Lutefisk, and actually ate it. Mmmm...nothing says Scandanavian blood like Lutefisk. We were missing one member of the family this year though - my dog Riley. We picked up Riley as a puppy when I was 12, and he died two weeks ago. R.I.P. Riley Ryebread Callahan. Riley is survived by my younger pup, Olly. Olly is kind of stupid. He's a cutie, but he doesn't fetch like most dogs, and I don't think he can really hear. Instead of barking when he wants something, he just stands there. And one time, he ate a sock that split his intestines and almost killed him and my parents pocketbooks. Don't eat socks dog, jeez.

The true highlight of my Christmas was I finally got the almond in the rice pudding (another screaming Scandnavian sign). Yes, it's been 24 years folks, and I have never got the almond. This is my lucky year. For those of you who don't know, if you find an almond in your rice pudding after Christmas dinner, you have good luck for a year. I'm pretty excited to see what it brings.

This was a really random and word-salad type of Christmas re-cap and I apologize for the madness. No worries, however, my "Colleen's African Journal Entries," series will resume shortly. Hakuna Matata and Feliz Navidads!

Les Milles Collines - The Thousand Hills

7/21/07 Les Milles Collines Hotel - Kigali, Rwanda
Well the sun is beginning to lower into the hills of Rwanda. Doesn't take a genius to figure out why it's dubbed "the land of a thousand hills." It's beautiful - the setting sun is casting a deep, golden glow, over the green, stretching mountains. Right now, there's a wedding taking place in the courtyard of the hotel. The landscape of this hotel is fairly beautiful.

It's hard to believe that one of the biggest genocide's ever took place right outside these walls.

I'm in the actual hotel portrayed in the movie "Hotel Rwanda." Crazy. Oh but it looks nothing like the hotel in the movie, which was some hotel in South Africa. In the wake of its genocide, however, Rwanda is really beautiful. It's lush and colorful, with miles of rolling hills supported by beds of bright red earth. Seriously all the roads here are a rusty red. The houses are pinks, blues and tin, and the people wear colorful clothing. It's so crowded here. You drive down the streets - clinging to dear life btw - and there are people just walking, streaming down the side of the road just like a movie. There are eight million people that live in this tiny country, and houses completely saturate the hills. Some of the homes are majestic, but there are so many shacks. The shacks here are made out of nothing. They are tin roofs balanced over slabs of concrete with red-dirt floors. I don't understand how people live there. And, Kigali is SO dusty - my eyes are so dry. Trauma, I know.

I am so exhausted right now I can barely keep my eyes open. Today we went to a place called "Speak, I'm Listening." It's this training center for girls who are genocide orphans or who have been raped or abused. They teach them a skill. The girls did a traditional dance for us, and we bought some of the stuff they made - mainly to support their mission.

On another note; I haven't felt too out of place being white yet, but I'm sure I will. I'm tired, I'm going to find out what time it is. Peace.

Rwanda

7/21/07 Kigali, Rwanda
Omigosh. So far, I've been in Africa for less than a day and all I've done is WAIT. Wait, wait, wait wait. I am at my wits end here with waiting. Africa has a weird concept of time - it's called NONE.

So Lisa's luggage is lost, and we've been here for hours at the Rwandan airport. Stepping off the plane was kinda surreal -- we stepped down stairs straight onto the runway. The wind rushed as I looked around the lush, hilly landscape and tried to convince myself I was actually in Rwanda. I am now convinced. Rwanda is a lot nicer than Nairobi that's for sure. Oh - I almost forgot, that is a thing about Africa, most people smell really bad.

Right now I am sweltering and it's supposedly winter here. I am outside of the airport and some guy is talking to us. He wants to come to the U.S. It is hard for people to come to the U.S. We are lucky.

I am hot, tired, and sick of waiting. I miss the U.S. right now.

Memoirs of Africa - My Series

I haven't felt like keeping up a blog lately. I think it's because I'm forced to write at a computer all day long, and the last thing I want to do is write some more when I come home. However, I found a solution. I'm going to begin a series my friends - one that features my journal entries from Africa, raw and uncut. Let me warn you before I begin, the entries don't paint myself in a great light -- but that's okay because I like to say I'm unpretentious, and I feel like they should be shared.

So part one takes us back to the London airport in late July...

7/20/07 - London
Our flight to Kenya is just about to take off. It's amazing how big the world is. I mean, you hear about these places in the news, but they aren't real until you are there. London's airport has more diversity than I've ever seen. It's different watching British news, and paying $8 for a stupid latte. There's just so much we don't know. Jesus, I pray you would help me to love others during this trip as you do - humbly. Show me yourself Lord. Seeing all these different kinds of people and places not only makes the world bigger, but it makes God bigger as well.


7/20/07 - On the Airplane
I am still on the flight to Kenya from London. I've slept most of the way and even still this is a long ride. It's been amazingly nice though, because the flight was so empty that we got our own row and got to lie down. We all slept. We will end up getting to Nairobi in an hour - which I think will be about 10:00 p.m. Nairobi time.

I've made friends with one of the flight attendants, and he's convinced that he's taking my group out to the Nairobi pubs after the flight. "In Kenya, one beer means two," he said as he handed me a second free beer (best thing about Kenya Air!). I told him he was lying and he said, "No! You will see, I will take you out to the pubs. You ask for one beer, and they give you two!"

He's a nice flight attendant, but I'm pretty sure we're not going to the pubs:)

OK it's 9:30 Nairobi time here - another hour means 10:30=LATE. Even though I just woke up I feel I could probably sleep another eight hours with the help of an Ambien. This sleep/clock/jet lag thing is going to be ridiculous.

DUH

OK I just had to share this headline because I thought it was so ridiculous. It's from ABC News, which isn't exactly like the worst news source in the world. Anyway this is the headline:

Mall Reopens After Deadly Massacre

Oh really? I thought that it was a non-deadly massacre. I'm glad you used the proper adjective or I would have been so confused.

So DUMB.

I have been so annoyed with the way the media has been covering this Omaha thing. The headlines have just been so dramatic. Yes, I understand that it was a horrible thing and a huge deal. But its like the media has to glamourize the horror. Oh --- and so apparently the killer said that now he would be famous in his suicide note. Well I'm glad the media fulfilled his dreams! DUMB. Don't cover him saying that now you're just going to inspire more people to do stupid selfish acts like that for "fame."

Hmph. I'm annoyed and now going to sleep.

What Up.

What up. Yeah I haven't been writing a lot lately because I've been busy writing whatever else I write. I just know I'm going to go blind at age 35 from staring at computer screens for hours on end on a daily basis.

Well good news in the hood. I skyrocketed my GRE score yesterday! Woohoo. I think perhaps I was just freaking out the first time I took it. Fortunately, my quantative stupidity was a false alarm - I am, in fact, average:).

Other weekend events include the realization that Cristina is going to Congo. She is leaving in February! Crazy stuff. The fighting there continues to get worse and it's just a tragic situation that seems relatively ignored by the world. Perhaps because there are so many areas of need demanding peoples' attention.

I am so unmotivated to work today. What's new. Ok subject change - so the Teddy Bear teacher in Sudan was released to Britain this weekend. I am assuming most people have heard of this situation. I just have to say one thing. I really feel sorry for all the moderate Muslims out there - because it seems that their religion is just being made a mockery by the fascist extremists. And the world is really sick of these extremists. Oh, what are you going to do I guess.

I have a Good Idea

I just came up with a really good idea. Well according to me it's a good idea, and I'm the final judge of good ideas so it is:).

I think for Christmas, I am going to get my family only gifts that like benefit charity. So I know Gap has the Red line, American Eagle has some scarfs that benefit charities, and I'm sure there are others as well. I just have to check them out. Anyway, we should all do that. Save the world! Spread Christmas cheer! Buy Gap!

I mean, you could just give a straight up donation in their name, but then people are usually discreetly mad because they wanted a gift. This way, they get both! I'm so smart! Ok whatever I'm not I just have too much time to think.

Please let me know if anyone finds any other holiday gifts that benefit charity and are cute and awesome at the same time.

Thanksgiving: Family, Turkeys, and a Little Too Much Information

"Kids these days are so irresponsible, they lack common sense," my uncle complained at our Thanksgiving holiday. "I was permiscuous during my days, but I used contraception. They just need to use contraception."

At this point I'm thinking too much information seriously. Yet, it got worse. My mom piped in. "Steven, sleeping with a whore in another country is not responsible," she said.

WHAT! I turned to my uncle, flabbergasted, "you slept with a hooker!" He's like "I was young and dumb (and ended the phrase inappropriately..). Plus I was in Vietnam, I couldn't find a girlfriend!"

Omigosh. And you thought your family is crazy. Well, does your 60 year-old uncle talk about sleeping with hookers at Thanksgiving?? Mmmmm, hopefully not. My dad's side of the family is a little crazy. I'm not sure how my dad turned out so normal. Maybe because was too young for the Vietnam draft.

That night I was watching Knocked Up (which, is really funny despite its vulgarity) with that same uncle and my mon. In the movie the dumb guys are smoking pot with a gas mask on. I guess it gets you more high or something? I don't know, sounds idiotic. Guess who comments again? Good 'ol uncle Steve. "I used to do that back in vietnam!"

My mom rolled her eyes. My goodness. How did we all end up so tame. Maybe because my mom's side of the family is ridiculously conservative - so my mom helped level out any craziness my dad inherited from his side.

Another funny story from the happy holidays. My aunt smokes cigarettes, and my parents keep one lowly ash tray in the garage for use by guests. So my aunt took the ash tray outside. She's smoking, and as usual, puts her cigarette out in the ash tray. To her surprise, a giant flame explodes from the ash tray - about three feet high. She screams. We run outside. "What the hell was in that ash tray?!" she shouts.

My dad comes over. "Oh you used the ash tray? There was paint thinner it it, I was using it to hold the paint thinner."

"Who puts paint thinner in an ash tray!!!!" My aunt yells, obviously a bit peturbed.

Well obviously, my dad. Ha ha, thank goodness no one was hurt and the most that resulted was a hilarious story. Happy Thanksgiving, from one strange family to the other.

not for the faint of heart.

In the late 70’s, a 14 year-old girl in labor was whisked into a Saudi Arabian hospital to give birth. Her arms were bound and she was strapped to the bed. She was a prisoner; and as soon as her child was born, she was to be stoned to death for promiscuity. After all, she had broken the Saudi Arabian law of chastity. How? Why, by being gang-raped of course. Her parents had left town for a weekend, and her brother had a party. In the midst of the party the boys took the girl and raped her while her brother sat in a corner; too drunk and high to react. The men denied the accusation – saying she came on to all of them. The girl had a baby girl. She then taken to be stoned, and died.

A lot of countries and situations anger me. There is a lot of injustice in the world, and a lot of it comes from poverty. But how is it acceptable that one of the wealthiest countries in the world ($446 billion GDP in 2007) COMPLETEY disregards women’s’ rights and no one does anything about it. Saudi Arabia angers me. The above situation took place in the 70’s as did a situation in which a 17 year-old girl was acquitted by Saudi courts for her intentional “promiscuity” (which didn’t include sex btw); and was handed over to her father to “punish as he please.” What did he do? He drowned her. In the family swimming pool. While the family watched. Legally. There are so many more horrible, horrible stories.

It’s easy to assume that situations evolve for the better as time progresses, but in 2007 Saudi Arabia still operates by the same backwards laws it did then. In fact, surprisingly, one situation is raising enough of ruckus to actually make the international media: http://www.cnn.com/2007/WORLD/meast/11/21/saudi.rape.victim/index.html

I know every country has its share of injustice and corruption. This however, is ridiculous. It’s especially ridiculous that all the world does is look away because confronting Saudi’s money and political posture may threaten the protester’s stability.
I’m really glad that finally the country is getting at least some scrutiny from the media; so perhaps someday there will be a law enforced that won’t allow fathers to drown their daughters at will.

Missing Limbs

Today, I experienced phantom limb syndrome. You know, where one of your limbs is missing, but...you can still feel it. Scary.
What's even scarier - is that my limbs are all attached, at least I thought. Yet, I felt it, the ringing vibration in my back pocket where I usually hold my cell phone. I reached back to answer it. It wasn't there. Yet, it I felt it. But it was a phantom feeling - phantom cell phone syndrome. It seems as if they just might be becoming our second limbs after all.

This isn't the first time it's happened. Sometimes, from the living room, I'll hear the familiar jangle of my ringtone --- only to look at my screen and discover, no one called. Phantom cell phone syndrome. A scary phenemenom. And I cannot be alone in my struggles. But if we have truly developed cell-phones as limbs, what other phantom syndrome will come next? One can only imagine.

*side note

OK. I forgot the add the most important part of the below story. In addition to asking if I was married, the drug kid asked if I was "melado."

Are you serious! Mainly because who uses that word anymore?! It's totally un-politically correct. Plus, he's 21 - not 50! You'd think he wouldn't have even grown up hearing it. Strange.

Cheeriness. And Pot.

Feeling down today? I have just the solution; go to CNN.com! Its top three stories will definitely cheer you up, take a peek.


CNN.com Top Read Stories:

1. Bomber kills kids as US troops hand out toys (!!!)
2. Dozens killed in coal mine blast (!!!)
3. Cyclone death toll could skyrocket. (!!!)

See, don't you feel so much better! I thought you might.

On a lighthearted note, a real one, I went to a concert at the Varsity (aka Best Theater Ever) Friday night. It was pretty sweet minus the bad wine which may or may not be bad because I don't like the taste of actual good wine. There were lots of interesting people there, including one stumbling 21 year-old who accidentally mistook me for a drug dealer.

"Hey," he said to me, "do you happen to have a bowl I could pack?"

I proceed to laugh really hard and obviously say, "No."

"Just thought you might be down, ya know..." he said before wandering off in the crowd.

Well, I don't blame him. I look a lot like a drug dealer - hey people ask me for crack all the time...... (no). The reason I knew his age was because I ran into him later upstairs in the Varsity's pool room or whatever they call it. It has a pool table to me that equals pool room, and the bathrooms are also up there.

So he's like, "Hey, sorry I asked you for that pot..." I'm like "no problem, people ask me all the time." He then asked me if I went to the U. I said no, I I've been done with school for awhile now. He proceeds, "How old are you!"
I'm like "A lot older than you." He then said he was 21 and was like "Are you married?"

Me: "No"

Dude "Well then you can't be that old!"

Hahaha. I didn't know that when you got married you all of a sudden were "really old." I told him I was 24, he said he totally thought I looked his age. Apparently, he was expecting someone three years older than him to look COMPLETELY different.

Hmph. I'm glad I graduated college already. It seems as they years go by, its students' common sense decreases. Peace out.

Happy Vet's Day

As much as I complain about work from time to time, It's days like this when I love my company. It's Veteran's Day, and my company is demonstrating its patriotism by giving all its employees the day off. SCORE. It also does this for Columbus Day, MLK Jr. Day, and President's Day. I am proud of my company's patriotism.

So now I'm at Caribou trying to gather the motivation to start my statement of intent for my grad school app. I got a decent outline yesterday, but now I must begin the real deal. There are quite a lot of people at Caribou for a Monday. They must all work for the government or for financial institutions. Back to my statement of intent; now, many of you may be asking: (or not - but I'll tell you anyway) Colleen, why do you want to go to grad school? How will this help your career? What do you want to do?

Alas, I have no solid answer to this question, only ambiguous dreams. So I will throw those ambigous dreams out there. See, I want to become a specialist kinda, in journalism on a topic and learn how to most effectively spread my message. I would like to minor in human rights while in school for an M.A. in mass comm. So then I would have more of a chance of getting a job with an NGO or with a governmental organization and work for one of those in communication or be a subject expert. Or --- having a master's of any kind would enable me to work for a university, directly with students. So the way I see it -- it would open doors for opportunities in fields that interest me. Who knows, my future's an open book, the world is my oyster.

Back to Caribou, I hate it when people talk really really loud on their phones when they are sitting at the table next to you. I also get uncomfortable when random men compliment my outfit at coffee shops - even if their intent is innocent. And the worst situation you can find yourself in at a coffee shop happened to Molly and I yesterday; we found ourselves right next to a father and daughter having a confrontational conversation, and being right next to them, we felt really awkward. What we gathered from the situation was the daughter (teenage) had a house party and was denying it and calling her dad an asshole and the father was calmly trying to get some info from her and talk to her about why he was upset. I felt bad for the dad. Makes me not want to have teenagers.

OK I'm going to start on my essay now, if I can somehow drain out the loud guy selling something on the phone next to me. Peace. Happy Vet's Day:)

Plummeting.

Dan sent this to a few of us yesterday, and I thought it was so crazy it should be posted in the reputable scientific journal entitled the Confused TwentySomething. In all seriousness -- try and figure out the logic of what this graph is telling us:




In Dan's words, "Crazy what AIDS can do."

I can't believe that in the 21st century, while life expectancies in the US are rapidly increasing, life expectancies in Africa are dramatically doing the exact opposite.

I've Been Thinking Too Much Again - And It is Lengthy...

That’s right – I’ve been thinking too much again – and the result is someone gets to read a messed-up philosophical entry from me! Good times.

So I have something I have to cognitively sort-out, because I feel frustration and passion welling up inside me now, literally about to burst. See, I’ve thought and thought, and have found myself caught smack-dab in the middle of two opposing ideologies, seemingly unable to come to grips with either. My feelings are kind of nebulous right now, making them hard to explain, especially in an organized formula, but hopefully I can get something down on this electronic medium that makes some sort of sense.

I’m not even sure how to start, so I guess I’ll just start with today. I woke up this morning healthy and relatively happy, yet my spirit was completely deflated, weighed down by the monotony that I would encounter for the next nine hours; work. I feel guilty about this – because I am so lucky to have my job, and be provided for, and am appreciative to God for this.

However, I am still weighted at the thought of work. No matter how I desperately try to change my attitude, work often becomes the bane of my existence – a mundane, fluorescent-lighted reality I have to encounter every day. That’s not to say some days are better than others, in task and emotion. Today however, is not one of those better days.

So here’s where my controversy kicks in. What do I do with these feelings of indifference? One ideology says to me “chase your dreams,” while another says “this is life, make do with what you have.”

A lot of me believes unwillingly in the “this is life,” philosophy, for, in my grandmother’s words “work is work.” I feel this creed is somewhat biblical too. I mean there are tons of verses stating “be joyful always,” or further down in Philippians “I have learned the secret to being content in any and every situation…. I can do all things in Christ who gives me strength.” Also, the verse that really gets me when I really don’t want to work is “whatever you do, work at it with all your heart as if working for the Lord and not for men.”

But then you get all these Christian authors who are like “live your dreams! God wants more for you than a dispassionate existence, take chances!” Obviously one book everyone is reading right now is giving me the box for my soapbox – Chasing Daylight by Erwin McManus.

I mean, Jesus does say “I have come to give you life to the full,” and then there’s “Delight yourself in the Lord and you shall have the desires of your heart.” But that delight --- will it come through in any situation, or will delighting in the Lord lead you to a situation in which you will have the desires of you heart?

I guess, all of my life, I’ve prided myself on being a realist, scorning idealists for their naivety and woolgathering. But I’m sick of being a realist. I don’t want to be a realist, I want to be an idealist. I want to believe there is more out there for me than this mundane, digitally-lighted experience. Perhaps experiences like this are waiting periods? Is this really what I was designed for? I know God requires everyone to work, and to work hard. Are we supposed to not like our work? Or is there hope that we can work hard at something because we are passionate about it. Instead of have to use every ounce of energy in our veins to try and work hard at something because our apathy and restlessness is pushing us in the opposite direction. Perhaps some people would love this opportunity, and would be satisfied by it, but it’s just me who isn’t.

I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know. Thus is the story of our lives I guess.

Music Review Time!

Last night I went to see Kelly Clarkson in concert. I was pretty excited about seeing KC, but like most people, I wasn't too enthused about the opening act--- until he started playing. Holy crap. My friends and I were awestruck at this guy's talent, passion, and of course ridiculous good looks. Seriously though, he was amazing, and I remember thinking while watching him play that God was amazing because he created someone with such talent. Almost seeing God's creativity and ingenious through this guy's musical ability.

So at the concert I not-so-quietly declared I was going to marry him. What was crazy though, is I got home and looked him up and it turns out he got his start playing at Young Life camp, and he's a Christian. Interesting how you can at times recognize God through people. Anyway, often synomynous with "Christian man over 21" is "married." (PROPS TO Y'ALL OUT THERE WHO ARE CHANGING THAT. CHEERS). So it turns out, there's no future for him and I:) There is however a future for me listening to his music. Oh -- and his name's Jon McLaughlin by the way.

Also on my music review tally today is Britney's new c.d., and Carrie Underwood's as well. I must say, five million stars for Carrie. This is probably one of the best albums I've ever purchased - not kidding. Buy it. As far as Britney's new c.d., five stars for her! Granted, the lyrics are a little to non-sensically sexual, but if you can over look that, probably one of the best dance albums I've ever purchased, her's and Rhianna's new c.d.

All in all, it's been a great music week and I've been very entertained. Thank God because I got a number wrong in work's newsletter and all hellfire broke loose (in my DEFENSE - it was approved before I placed it, and the approver overlooked the number, NOT my fault. huff). It turns out -- the number in the newsletter was for a dating service. hahaha. if I can get past the anger surrounding my boss it's actually pretty funny....

Sticks and Leaves

I went for a run after work yesterday, on possibly the last warm day before the chill of our lovely winters kicks in. The warm breeze brushed my cheek as I ran passed the lake. The veins of the trees surrounding it had burst, splattering the once-green canvas of their leaves with yellows, oranges and reds and creating a blazing forest that was quite the scene next to the contrasting deep blue lake. The leaves crunched beneath my tennis shoes, with the occasional leaf falling on my head and getting tangled the messy tendrils. I took another step, breathing deeply, and then suddenly…

A freaking stick hit me, and I quickly woke up from ponderings of the idyllic landscape I would later paint with words. Stupid stick, it hurt and left a big red line on my face. Then a couple more leaves fell on my head and got tangled in my mop of frizz, er excuse me, my “messy tendrils.”

Oh real life. Always waking us up from our daydreams. I realized though as I was running the rest of the way home, that life sometimes may turn out the way we paint it to be. Kinda like, when you break up with your boyfriend, after a horribly stressful relationship, but you miss him so much that all you seem to remember is the good times, because that’s all you replay in your mind, and cry over with Rascal Flatts in the background. Or on the other end of the spectrum, how we think this world is such a horrible horrible place because we wake up and read the news every morning, which points out the worst of the worst from around the entire world. There’s actually a name for developing this complex from the media, it’s called Mean World Syndrome. We tend to think the world is much worse off than it is because all we see is the horror in the news everyday, and not about the girl scout troop picking up garbage or the old couple still in love in the nursing home (oh wait, that’s in the notebook, well you get the picture). For some reason the every day good stuff isn't as publishable -- but it's there.

To do a 180 on the subject with a complete lack of sensical segue ---- so yeah, the GRE, didn't exactly go too well. I pretty much sucked up the math part. So I am taking it again in a month. And trying really hard to study. So the blog may or may not go on temporary hiatus. I'm sorry if the temporary hiatus disappoints. But who knows, maybe it won't be a hiatus. OK, time for bed. It's newsletter day tomorrow, gotta be prepared...

I'm Not the Only One With a Leftover Keg!

You can stop holding your breath, saying your prayers and crossing your fingers for me like I know you all are. Work went okay today. WHEW. I am in the clear for this week. No monumental mistakes, and I even got a little ice cream cake to boot. Plus I have a three day weekend ahead of me -- well wait, not really considering I only took Monday off for the GRE. Rejoice! After Monday one will never have to hear about the GRE ever again!

It should be a Halloween-o-fanstastic weekend, if I can find something to wear. Nothing's changed since Tuesday. On a different note: So I have one of those stat counter things on my blog, where you can see what google page people accessed my blog through. I've encountered a few interesting google searches that have pulled up the one, the only confused twentysomething. Behold:

1) how to save the African people
--- uh this isn't at all offensive! Who is searching this anyway? Do they think they are going to save Africans by following google instructions? Seriously.
2)leftover keg
---- well this is referring to the blog I wrote about driving around w/ a leftover keg in my car for a week. Glad to know some people have the same problems.
3)inspirational pop songs love break up
--- somebody's feeling emotional..
fish from the caribbean - GRE word list
--- yeah, haven't encountered a word that means "fish from the caribbean yet." Perhaps because it doesn't exist.
4)confused about staying in long term relationship
--- well google will definitely tell you what to do there! Just keep searching! (or talk to a REAL person, just a suggestion).
5) "Jess Gold" "Cole Brenny"
--- Creepy????

Ok that's all, Happy Halloween weekend. I hope you scare someone. Cackle cackle.

Halloween. Boo.

I did a horrible job at studying tonight. Why? Well, for a couple reasons: a - Caribou decided to close at 9 instead of 10. b - Carrie Underwood came out with a dang good c.d. that was more interesting than math (everyone needs it - it's amazing). c - I suck at math hardcore and d) I cannot for the life of me think of a Halloween costume.

UGH. I have some ideas of what I could do, but nothing that just clicks in the "that's the most amazing idea ever" sort of way. Actually, I've never had an idea that good. Maybe that's why often times I found Halloween more annoying than fun because it takes so much energy to finally come to the realization that you have nothing good to wear so you might as well give up and be something lame. One year, I remember being so frusterated that my friend and I went and bought plastic firehats and called ourselves firefighters. (Which reminds me -- Sarah this is my first Halloween without you in like four years! And they don't even have Halloween in Taiwan, sad!) This year, that energy also impedes with my useless studying efforts.

I think the best Halloween was when I was Avril. Maybe I will be her again -- except her look isn't so distince now...hmmm. Every good Halloween costume has been so overdone! I give up. I was searching the net for some creative Halloween costumes, and although it was completely unbeneficial to me, some of them were funny. Here were a few of my favs:

- Paris in jail (ten bucks this will be completely overdone this year)
- The president of Iran (no idea how to spell his name)
- And um another one that I liked but I can't say because I might actually be it. Who knows.

I realize I'm kinda anti-Halloween spirit, and I apologize for that. However, I would like to say that my anti-spirit is cancelled out by my roommate Anna's Halloween-Spirit-on-Speed, as I like to call it :) I think that the stick-on black cats and pumpkins that greet me on the bathroom mirror each morning, the skeleton menorah-like deal on the entertainment stand and the pumpkin candles scattered around the house would testify to that as well. Love it.

OK I'm tired and I still can't find any good costume ideas on about.com so I'm going to go to bed. Another reason for me to go to bed is because I'm sick of hearing about how to be a pirate of a prom queen. Note to "halloween costume ideas" web sites - those are sucky ideas that were overdone in 1970. That's all, bye.

Note to Mother's Everywhere: Don't Tell Your Child it's OK to Make Mistakes

I now know why Jesus said that we should "be perfect, as our heavenly Father is perfect."

Um...yeah. It's because, when you grow up, you are expected to be. Well guess what: NO ONE IS. I'm not a freaking perfectionist.

I am mad at my work right now and taking it out on my blog.ugh.

Kids Say the Darndest Things

My friend from high school is currently a kindergarten teacher in Minneapolis. I'm convinced that all kindergarten teachers should have their own comic strips -- because they encounter some hilarious things. I was at happy hour with my teacher-friend the other day, and she was telling me stories about a couple of kids in her class. I would like to relay these stories to you. Let's start with the story about Kenny. First of all, who names a kid Kenny nowadays. Seriously.

So 'B' was the letter of the day in Miss Niebur's kindergarten class, and the children had to draw something that started with a 'b.' There were a lot of boats and balls and brooms, but Kenny drew something a little different. Miss Niebur got to Kenny and looked down at his paper, on which was drawn two side-by-side circles with a dot in the center of each of them...Miss Niebur cautiously asked Kenny, "What have you drawn Kenny?" "Boobs!" Kenny replied. Miss Niebur shook her head, "Now do you really think that's appropriate Kenny?"

After thinking for a few seconds, Kenny looked up at Miss Niebur, "You're right Miss Niebur, I should've called it Chest," but then it wouldn't start with a 'b'!

Recognizing his teacher's disapproval, he quickly said, "Well, maybe I should erase it.." (please insert little kids voice when reading Kenny's lines, thank you."

Miss Niebur nodded approvingly, "Yes, Kenny, I think you should probably erase it."

Oh the naive minds of five year-olds.

What's Long Division?

Countdown to the GRE - two weeks. Two weeks,which I recently realized will have to be jam-packed with fractions, decimals, geometry and probability. I've always known I suck at math, but evidently pitching it out of my life for six years has made my quantative problem-solving capabilities a hundred times worse. I mean, the other week at Wine Night, someone actually had to teach me how to do long division and multiplication (THANKS KERRY). How pathetic is that? And I still don't really know how to divide by hand - throw some square roots, x's and y's in there and if my mind could crawl into a fetal position -- it would. But I don't think it can, so instead it starts reviewing celebrity couples and hit pop songs.

I just hate math! It's so useless -- why do I need to know how to do these problems? Is there going to be some time in my life when I am without a cell phone, computer or plain calculator and urgently need to solve 5, 43980 x 5209? NO. Unless like, I get kidnapped and they won't let me go until I solve a bunch of math problems...sounds like a good scheme for Al Quaeda...So why do I need to do it on the GRE?!!! Ugh! We even got to use calculators for the ACT people!

The verbal section is still a toughie too -- but much easier than math. All I have to do for the verbal is memorize a bunch of big words. Memorizing words is actually useful too -- because you can use them in choice situations to make people think you are smart. Or you can write them on resumes because corporations are freaking pretentious and appreciate using all the big words they can get.

Speaking of work, they told me I wasn't "detail-oriented" enough at work. Which, I'll admit, I'm not. Why? BECAUSE I HATE DETAILS. I think maybe, I have the wrong job -- or maybe, I just need to become good at details even though (in Katie's words), they make me want to shoot heroin in my eyeballs and die. I might not be writing in my blog as much as I have been, because turns out now they want me to actually work at work, aka, manage every little DETAIL of the newsletter, aka shoot heroin in my eyeballs and die... No no, it's not so bad, well the details part is, but the rest isn't. At least I have something to do - just not something I could do forever. I'll give a killer blog shout-out to the person with the best suggestion as to what I should do with my life. Ready-set-go.

This blog had no sensical transitions or point. I am sorry. I just wanted to complain about work and math in the same blog and I couldn't figure out how to do it sensically - since the only math I do at work is counting my paycheck or how many hours or vacation days I have left. OK I'm going to go now and stop this non-sensical prattling.

Peace in the Middle East.

Sleepless in Seattle - A Truly Original Title

This weekend, I was sleepless in Seattle. Well during the day anyway, I slept at night I just like the way the phrase “sleepless in Seattle,” rolls off the tongue…. I was, however, a jet setter this weekend. I flew to Seattle for College Reunion 2007. It was a great time and Seattle is an awesome town. I would put it up in the ranks with Portland. There are very few cities I rave about, – besides Minneapolis, the love of my life – so Seattle should be aware of what a compliment it is to receive my praise.

Seattle is a city filled with fish markets, brick streets, ocean bays, Starbucks galore and quite a few bums. It’s clean though, adorably quaint and its surroundings are completely gorgeous. On clear days you can look across the blue waves of Puget Sound and see the snow-capped peak of Mount Rainier in the distance, reigning over the thousands of pine tree-clad hills huddling at its base. There is so much to do, including the Space Needle, which really has no functional significance besides to simply exist. Much like monuments such as the Eiffel Tower, the Space Needle was built as a way for Seattle to show off its architectural expertise during the World’s Fair, which was held in Seattle in 1962.

On another note, my trip to Seattle also opened my eyes to how much I love airports. Walking into an airport just fills me with a shiver of excitement, because I know the next I step outdoors, it will be in a strange city filled with adventure. Whether it is Cancun or Congo, there’s just something so enthralling about being somewhere else, for awhile anyway. I wish I could go somewhere different every week. My employer should really look into that.

I am so blessed to be able to do all the great things I do. Just taking off for a weekend in Seattle to visit some of my best friends and explore a new city, it’s awesome. True, I am back in the monotony of work – but that’s only so I can go on my next trip; Europe 2008. Prince William, British Pubs and Italian Streets here we come!

Who Wants Free Body Towels?!?!

Occasionally, when I am bored I peruse through Craigslist’s “free stuff” category. It always adds a touch of hilarity to my day. Blame it on my intrinsic altruism, but I’ve taken it upon myself to share this hilarity with everyone, and have selected a few free items, that I plan on picking up as soon as possible. So please don’t think of stealing them from me. Thanks.

1. Free body Towels

I am setting out four well used body towels. They are the type that would be used for RAGS ONLY. None of them are matching. I will leave them in the ally in front of the garage by the trash can.
Just come by and pick them up.

What a good deal! Free used body towels! I can’t think of a better Christmas present for someone!


2. Free crazy lookin' desk thing

Just what I always wanted!


3. 27" color tv DOES NOT WORK

What am I going to do with this? Put it on display so it looks like I have a TV to impress a guy or social services or something?

“Look at my sweet 27 inch TV. Just don’t ask me to turn it on, it’s tricky sometimes…”

4. Piano for free! It must go as soon as possible!
I am giving it away, because of lack of space to keep it at home.

When the picture was taken, I had some ornaments on the piano, this is why you see lots of things on it; obviously, all those things will not be there when you come to pick it up!




Obviously! It’s not obvious that it doesn’t come the useless crap thrown all over it! I’m not taking it if it doesn’t come with the fake “harvest medley” of flowers and the orange-crotcheted thingy!


5. Non- working Elan brand ====WATER SOFTENER===with large salt bin(full)


6. Shed to Take
Anyone need a shed? Just come pick it up. Oh no, I’m sure it will fit fine in your suburban…


7. Free Maternity photos of you on CD!

Creepy? Perhaps a good baby shower present?


8. Like new Carpet & fire wood

They forgot to ad the subhead! OK, I’ll do it for them.

“the perfect combinations”


9. Men's Shirts for Handicapped

Um, mentally or physically handicapped?


10. Free Black Walnuts

In case you’re hungry, feel free to drive all the way to Cologne, MN to pick up a bunch of free walnuts, because according to the add “the squirrels don’t want anymore.”


FREE: Two bags of White bread

Why we have a meal! Feel free to pick up the white bread on a St. Paul porch after you’ve cracked the walnuts. Mmmmmm.

Boasts and Embarassment

Boast: I went to the dentist yesterday, for the first time in two and a half years. I was a little nervous, but now I would like to announce that it’s been 24 years and I am still cavity-free my friends! A lifetime achievement! Woohoo! I would like to thank city-water (which includes fluoride), sealant, and my parents’ dental insurance for enabling this accomplishment.

I remember when I was really young, this ‘public service announcement (PSA),’ always ran on TV. The PSA featured a girl who proclaimed, “I’m sixteen and have never had a cavity in my entire life.”

From the first time I saw it; I longed for such an achievement to be my own, and hoped to match this girl’s feat. Well my friends, sixteen has come and gone and I am still cavity free! Not only did I match this girl’s feat, I surpassed it by eight years! Where’s my commercial? I can only imagine how young girls everywhere would be inspired…

My dentist was hot too. First time I saw him. Married though, that’s always the case…jeez.

Time for embarrassments: So the U.S. Department of Citizenship and Immigration Services just came out with a citizenship test that’s supposed to be more effective than the previous one. I would have to agree, it does looks more effective.

After looking through the ten questions featured in the New York Times, however, I unfortunately have to admit that I’m kind of a crappy American citizen.

Ok people, how many amendments are there in the American Constitution? What? Did you say 14? That’s why I said, that’s what my co-worker said too. Welp, we were both wrong. Where did we all come up with 14?? Apparently there’s 27 – had no idea.

How bout this one – how many representatives make up the House? The answer is 435. Duh (again, had no idea).

Despite my ignorance on a few vital aspects of American life, I did get about half right, including the question that asked “Why does the flag have 13 stripes?” Because of the first 13 unions!!! Sitting at my desk, I almost yelled this aloud, pathetically excited about my knowledge.

Five out of five; not bad, but not good. I apologize, Uncle Sam, for not being a model citizen. I promise to sing the Star Spangled Banner ten times tonight to make up for it – and visit the U.S. Virgin Islands to show my appreciation of U.S. territories. Until then, I resort to Wikipedia.

I Don't Get It. You're Pretending to Shoot Aliens.

While making my unwilling commute to work this morning, I was entertaining myself by listening to the KS95 Morning Show. I know, I know, the coolest show on the radio.

Anyway, they were discussing a big event that happened yesterday. An event that, apparently, was the highlight of some peoples’ lives thus far; the release of Halo 3. Herald the press! Call sick to work! Now people across the world have a new way to fight aliens and save a virtual planet from takeover!

I don’t get it.

Why waste your time shooting fake aliens? How is this fun? Join the army. I understand that perhaps young boys would find this fun – teenagers and prepubescent males, but my confusion heightened when a guy called the radio station to profess he had been up with his friends since midnight playing Halo 3. Let me tell you, his voice was anything but young. He was 30-something at least. To add to this ridiculousness, guess what he drank to stay up; Mountain Dew. Actually, he claimed, it was a new kind of Mountain Dew called “Game Fuel.”

What. I thought no one drinks Mountain Dew besides 15 year-old boys. But here he was, a grown man, staying up all night playing video games and drinking “Game Fuel.” This is apparently, a Mountain Dew specifically purposed for helping gamers stay up all night.

Again, I don’t get it.

What is so great about video games that grown men will stay up playing all night? Wouldn’t you rather…sleep? I would. Or do something productive like…talk?

I was reading the news the other day, and they have gaming rooms in China, which I imagine are like American arcades. Apparently, a man there, or a “gamer,” as they are called, DIED from playing video games for 48 HOURS straight. He died from exhaustion or something. ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! Why?! I haven’t been addicted to video games since Donkey Kong came out in 7th grade. They lost their appeal when I found BETTER things to DO with my TIME, or GREW UP. Someone please key me on the necessity to participate in this insane activity for hours upon hours. I’m going to do real work now

Uptown: An Obstacle Course and Other Thoughts

Yesterday I went to Heartbreakers in Uptown to find a “dress for less,” for a friend’s wedding. Luckily for me, I succeeded, now I just have to find the accessories, darned dresses and their accessories.

Anyway, last night’s obstreperous storm succeeded in causing the traffic lights on Hennepin and Lake to malfunction – so that they only blinked red, requiring pedestrians and traffic to act as if they were stop signs.

This does not work on Hennepin and Lake. Why? Because the cars seem to forget about the pedestrians, or remember and take revenge upon them for all the times the flashing person light called them to halt and wait for the silly walkers. So each time I crossed that intersection (which totaled four) I was literally running for my life, dodging oncoming bright lights on the shiny, rain-soaked road like I was competing in an Olympic obstacle course. Personally, I find that’s enough excitement for one day. However, as I prepared to cross the street for the last time that night, I saw another obstacle awaiting me on the other side: Three men in “Jesus Saves,” t-shirts, with big leather-bound Bibles.

Don’t get me wrong here people; hopefully you know I’m a Christian and really do believe Jesus saves, but still, I am acutely disturbed by men like this standing on the corner. I just don’t really think, that they are doing much good. I mean, if even I want to avoid them, how much more do people who don’t share my faith feel the urge to start talking to no one at all on their cell phones as they walk by. Plus, don’t you think that passer-bys will add the three conspicuous men to their list of “reasons why I want nothing to do with Christianity.” Even if one person is helped by these guys, don’t you think more will be hindered? Or not? I could be wrong, and God knows I don’t want to be blasphemous or encumbering to the faith. I’ve just never heard of the following situation occurring:

Guy 1: Hey guys! I believe in Jesus now!
Guy 2: What? Why?
Guy 1: Because I saw three guys on the street corner with black and white shirts that say Jesus Saves!

Ummm… I don’t know, maybe it works for some people. I just feel that today’s culture, esp. the culture in Uptown, is more reluctant to embrace an unwelcome conversion attempt, but maybe it gets them thinking. I prefer to share my faith relationally – or any other way than wearing those shirts – but maybe I’m just being cowardly. Thoughts anyone, thoughts?

BTW: Did you notice how many GRE words I included in this? Score.

My Perspicacious, Extemporanious Prattlings

Prior to signing up for the GRE last week, receiving my study book, and beginning the long, arduous task of studying, I thought of myself as being relatively intelligent.

However, my GRE study book quickly showed me how wrong this arrogant assumption was. Jeez Louise. I thought I had a fairly decent vocabularly. I mean, I can understand most people when the speak - so since I know a lot of people, I would think that would mean I knew a lot of words. WRONG. Ostensibly (what what, I used a big word), everyone I listen to must use the same five words in their vocabularly - because occording to the Princeton Review, I know about five out of a thousand important words in my native tongue.

Seriously people, why does knowing the word "nascent," mean I will succeed in graduate school. These words have no USE!! How will they help me in developing a practical education?? I mean "obviate," "onerous," "equivocate????" when will I ever use these words other than to sound important on paper or in person or in the electronic form of my blog??

Apparently, however, an increased vocabularly means I am a smarter person. Personally, I think it just means you spent a lot of time in a coffee shop memorizing big words. Er, um, "critical," words. But hey, the professors won't have to know that when I casually express they are the "most sagacious teacher I have ever had, and you have given me a voracious appetite for learning."

Ha Ha, boy will I have them fooled. Until I have developed this ability though, my blog has volunteered to help me study for the GRE by making me use a GRE word each time I blog. Pretty soon, not only will I be a more intelligent person, but so will my many, many readers. I hope you are precipitating grandeur my friends....:)

The Popcorn Prognosis

A long, long time ago, in a very strange land – my freshman year in Pioneer Hall – I had a somewhat innocent habit. Each night, I would eat a bag of microwave popcorn, but don’t worry, only the Smart Pop, 94% fat-free kind. My roommates got used to my popcorn impulse-control problem, and came to expect the smell of buttery goodness filling the room each night. For me, popcorn eliminated the boredom of studying college algebra, horticulture or some other boring subject.

I used to joke about my excessive popcorn eating, saying that I was probably going to get popcorn cancer. My friends would laugh at the thought that microwave popcorn could actually cause some sort of disease. Well, laugh no longer, for it seems that my popcorn prophecies were somewhat true. Perusing through the New York Times online Sunday, I discovered a headline that incarnated my fears:

Doctor Links a Man’s Illness to a Microwave Popcorn Habit

What?! Seriously, I was just joking when I said I would get cancer or some disease from eating so much popcorn! Please don’t let it be a reality!

Okay, okay maybe I am being slightly dramatic considering the guy who acquired this sickness would inhale the steam arising from the bag twice a day. I didn’t go that far. I just ate the bag once a day. Also, the man is still alive – this is a good sign. However, I find it somewhat comical that an careless joke of mine became somewhat of a reality. No more jokes for me, and in the meantime I will have to monitor my lungs closely, for until they are in danger of actually collapsing, I’m not giving up my popcorn.

When You Try To Sound Important You Sound Dumb

Many people in the business world have a disease. I like to call this disease Ego Ignorance. Ego Ignorance takes place when executives use nonsensical language to make themselves sound important - otherwise known as corporate buzzwords. I've create a list of top symptoms of this disease, so now if you see an ailed coworker, you can immediately send them to the instituion.


1) “Significant” Such as “Jones made a significant contribution to his team.”

What the heck does “significant” mean here? I use it all the time, but mainly, just to make the sentence seem more important. Significant is not a measurable amount. It’s just a fancy word for “big.” But if I write “big,” I will look like a fifth-grade graduate. Ugh.

2) “Cost-Savings” Such as "Landon created a spreadsheet process that produced cost-savings." In other words – Landon made a spreadsheet that saved the company money. But “cost-savings,” has a hyphen, and it’s a longer word, so we have to use that because apparently hyphens make the word more important.

3) “Critical” Otherwise known as IMPORTANT PEOPLE. But no, it’s “critical,” that we do not use the word “important,” because then, our competition will think we are not as cool as they are.

4) “Representment” Oh wait, that’s not even a word. You just made it up! Why do you stick to what you really mean which I think is “representation.” Apparently, marketing people don’t take English.

5) “Strategic efforts” Yeah, to apparently go nowhere if you keep using BS words like this.

6) “Utilize” The longer form of “use,” which means the exact same thing and is used in the exact same context. So use the shorter version big wig.

7) “Digitization” Omigosh. Seriously, you’re going to use this word? It’s a shame to Bill Gate’s empire.

And now for the kicker, I will use all words in a sentence, or two: Colleen created significant cost-savings through the digitization of critical methods. She utilized strategic efforts to display a represement of her outcomes so that everyone would be super amazed.

The end.

Roads Are For Cars!

Ah Summer. This sweet season brings us strawberries, beaches, tans and iced coffee. Let’s face it, we’re all pretty much in love with it. In all its glory, however, there is one reason why I’m glad these warm months are ending; BIKERS. More specifically; ROAD BIKERS.

Raise your hand if you can’t stand road bikers!!!!

(Both of my hands are raised).

Seriously. I have nothing against biking. I mean, I love it - ON BIKE PATHS. But biking on the road is just calling for trouble. I mean let’s say I’m in my little gold Saturn, tugging along at a nice pace, and then BOOM,I see a biker in front of me. This means I have to slow down to “bike speed,” which is like 10 miles per hour because I can't pass the biker on a slim road. So behind this biker are like twenty cars going 10 miles an hour so they don’t annihilate a brightly colored pedaler. In the meantime, they are late to wherever they are going and developing an ulcer from becoming so irritated with the superfluity of bikers that seem to surround Minneapolis.

Why are bikers even allowed on car roads anyway? I mean, it’s not safe. On wrong twist of my wheel and the poor biker is road kill. I don’t want to induce anyone to that fate, and I don’t think anyone wants to sucuumb to that fate – so why bike on the side of the road?

Then, oh boy, THEN there are the bikers that think they can just whiz around sharp corners really fast and onto oncoming traffic. Stop right there Mr.I Think I’m The Road Runner, you can’t survive a million catastrophes like our friend the Road Runner, you’re not the Road Runner! I’m going to hit you if you keep sneaking around like that!

Ugh. MNDOT take note – road bikers are not wanted. Please extinguish the possibility. In the meantime, at least I have one reason to thank Jack Frost’s arrival, because for the next five months, I’ll be free of these two-wheeled burdens.

Cheers:)

It's an Exciting Moment in My Life!

Britney Spears is back! Ha ha. She's got a new song - and you know what, I actually like it. Yes! I knew her reign wasn't over. Check it out

My Country Tis A Thee

Does anyone know what they are actually saying there? Tis athee? Tis to tee? I just realized I have no idea. Perhaps I will look it up online now. Okay - apparently it's "tis to thee," never knew. Now the next task is to find out what the heck that means, but I'll save that for another day.

The original purpose of this post - before I became confused with tis a thee, was to reflect on how classically American Labor Day weekend up at the lake is. This past weekend I went up to a cabin and found myself immersed in the truest and deepest American culture - in my opinion of course, and you know what, I LOVED it. Something about the God Bless America signs, suburbans with motor boats in tow and oldies playing on the outdoor speakers of a gas station made struck a perfect chord with my soul. I wanted to wrap the whole country up in my arms and squeeze tight - and I'm not being sarcastic either!

My patriotic pride swelled again as I walked into a small-town coffee shop made of logs and selling arts and crafts. I think what it is, is although I love diversity sometimes it's just so comforting about being in a place where everyone comes from the same background. For there's no need to explain yourself, and you can breath deeply and just be quiet. A place where they sell fresh apple pie, where people love cheeseburgers and Bud Lite, and completely drop everything to knock out the dance floor with their American thighs when ACDC comes on, or Def Leppard blares "Pour Some Sugar On Me," over the d.j.'s speakers. A place where people still line the streets for the fourth of July parade, and little children wave flags at the firetrucks and rotary club members passing by - and when the day gets too hot, you can jump into deep blue, bass-filled lakes surrounded by pine-tree forests.

Perhaps I'm mistaking nostalgia for patriotism, but to this day I'm telling you that those things are some of the reasons why I will always love America, no matter what people say. I'm not being political at all. I'm just saying I appreciate our culture - particularly small town culture and sometimes wish I could just wrap it up and put it in my pocket so I can escape into country fantasyland when BBC or the NYTimes keep telling me how messy this world is becoming.

What I have learned

This is what I have learned in the past week:

1. Never say never. We are all capable of doing things we never dreamed we would do.
2. People are not always who you think they are, and can be extremely deceitful. What that doesn't mean, however, is that we should go around assuming everyone is like that. I really believe there are a lot of good people in the world.
3. Why Jesus tells us that we shouldn't judge. It's because most of us have no idea what we're talking about when we spit words and assume things about other people. Most of the time - only God knows why people act the way they do. Our job is to love people when they fall. I've never felt the sting of judgement so much, and it doesn't feel good.
4. We cannot get mad and lash out at people who hurt us, or others who talk without knowing. Turn the other cheek.
5. We shouldn't love the people closest to us for what they've done or their personality or even how they think. We should simply love them because they are.
6. This world is messed up. But we can heal and grow through the mess.

Let's Be Honest...

For the past couple weeks I've been charged with a project at work that I actually don't mind (gasp!). I'm responsible for putting together and writing the awards booklet for our company's annual Service Awards. These are awards given to employees who have been at the company 10, 20, 25 and 30 years. According to legend, there have been the occasional 35 year-ers as well.

First of all, I just want to note that if I am ever at a company for that long, even ten years, please drag me away to Rome and entangle me in an elaborate Italian scandal involving wine and gorgeous Roman men. I have made similar vows to help other friends if they are found years down the road in the nightmares of their youth. Such as the time when I was a senior and promised my friend Kelly that if I ever found her extremely overweight, screaming at her kids to shut up in a Wal-Mart food court, I would dutifully pull her away by the ends of her greasy hair. So friends, please pull through for me as well.

Carrying on, I've been interviewing the long, long-timers; those with 25 or more years of exciting employment, asking them why they've stuck around. Today I interviewed a 30 year vet of the inventory dept, and I asked her why she has chosen sto stay here so long, what she's liked about it.

Her hesitation at the end of my question was more than obvious. So I padded the landing a bit. "That is, of course, if there's more than just the pay!" I said, half joking just to ease solemnity of the truth.

"Well," she said. "I guess there does come a point in your career where you can't make what you do somewhere else, because you have all the skills needed here. Plus the benefits are good, and I like the people," she added, almost convincingly.

So I say, "Do you like what you do or is it pretty boring?"

"Well, it can be pretty dull at times. But there are always new challenges."

Her tone said it all. Let's be honest. She doesn't really like her job. The challenges she speaks of, well she probably doesn't want them. Maybe I'm making assumptions but it seems that one of the main reasons she's stuck around so long, is because she wasn't able to get the same amount of pay somewhere else.

This may be fine for her, and I'm sure she loves her life and I'm not sure if she has any regrets, but for my life, I desperately want something different. I don't want to look back at the past 30 years and know that I was in the same position because I was too scared to do anything else, too starved for security. Because for me, that's the only thing that would trap me somewhere for 30 years, unless of course, it was God's desire.

So, God willing, I'm going to make a vow right now to take chances. I'm going to go to Europe so I'm not one of those 60 year-old guys Mike and Brett talk to that keep saying I wish I would have gone there. I want to do the "I wishes" now, because for some unknown blessing of God, I have the option. For lack of a better ending and because I have to get up now I will leave you with my new life motto: Make a Wish, Take a Chance, Make a Change and Breakaway.......Hey you can make fun of Kelly Clarkson, but look where it took her:)

Out of Africa

My original intent was to map out more completely my experiences in Africa. However, the trip is quickly passing me by and the blog entries would be far too long if I were to write in detail my accounts. So, I think I'm just going to provide a list of highlights and be done with it. Ready, set, go:

1. Visiting the Rwandan Genocide Memorial on the day anniversary of the genocide's end. No one could speak in the memorial, not because we were forbidden, but because we had no words to say. Especially after looking through walls and walls of murdered children's pictures. Never has life seem so insignificant, fragile and short to me.

2. Going on the bumpiest ride of my life with three mzungus and like 8 Africans piled into a 6 person van on a 40 minute ride up to the middle of a Congolese jungle where us white people were subsequently hit on my drunken soldiers with big guns. I never realized, until this moment surrounded by by pouring rain and completely unfamilar situation, how many layers of security we have in America, and how much it is our second nature to trust in those layers. Now I see why the poor are so blessed, it's because they only have God for security, thus they trust in him alone. While we often come to God when all else fails.

3.OK I'll make these shorter. Me becoming a radio broadcaster in Goma. Super random. In Congo, if you're white, you are qualified to do anything.

4. Um, experiencing "community clean up day," in Goma. Which, I hate to be a hater, but is the most ineffective clean up day ever. So for four hours in the morning, the city forbids all cars to be on the road. This is so they can collect all the trash, put it in piles on the side of the road, and burn it. So all day, the city is saturated in smoke b/c of the piles of burning garbage.

5. Seeing real faith in people. And seeing no faith at all in others.

6. Riding in a roofless van late at night, driving to the lake side to see the wildlife hiding in the night. We saw a baby hippo and its mother. It was almost like playing with that paper in which the black outer surface scratches off and underneath are all these beautiful colors, and you never knew what you would get. On the drive, the scenery was black until the headlights pierced the darkness, revealing a herd of zebras, or impalas. I remember having to touch my cheek during the ride to make sure I was really seeing such sights.

I can't think hard enough to remember everything right now. So I'm going to leave it at that.

My Budding Journalism Career

Look Friends, I am now a web page editor! For my favorite topic too!

Check it out

The site was just started, so it's still being developed. But who else would you rather get quarter life crisis advice from than me??

That's what I thought, no one. OK, now read my stuff.

Peace to the out.

Things That Are Completely Useless

I just wanted to take a break from Africa and discuss practices/things that are quickly becoming obsolete as my generation sets out to lead the world.

1. Newspapers. I don’t understand why you would purchase a newspaper subscription if you have a laptop. I have to credit Mike for first bringing this pondering to my head. But each weekend morning, I stumble over to the coffee pot, stumble back into my room, grab my laptop and sit down in my chair to read www.nytimes.com. Which is free, and much easier to navigate that those awkward, large papers. The only time I see newspapers as a somewhat intelligent option is when you find yourself bored, and w/o the use of a computer. Like, at the airport, or, the doctor’s office, or anywhere else. And, if you get the Sunday paper so you can look through all the print ads that come along w/ it. You can’t get those online.

2. Landlines. At the moment, I couldn’t think of a less useful, waste of money than having a landline. What’s the point? You can talk on your cell phone from home people. I’m not sure how this will work out as we become parents with children old enough to talk on the phone, but I’m guessing that they will get their own cell phones by age seven or something ridiculous like that. Should be interesting to see how that one turns out.

3. Phone books. What a waste of space. You can find any number that would be in them on www.whitepages.com, or www.yellowpages.com. As for personal cell numbers, well, they aren’t in phonebooks anyway. Save the planet, prevent the use of phonebooks.

4. Offices. Ok, maybe this is wishful thinking. But, I’m pretty sure I could do most of the work I do imprisoned behind these beige cubicle walls in the refreshing pink environment of my room, or the comforting, north woods environment of Caribou. As soon as my generation’s in charge, I have a feeling the corporate office commune will become extinct. I’m counting on it.

5. C.D.’s – I can’t remember the last time I bought a c.d., other than a blank one. iTunes people, iTunes.

OK I don’t want the list to get too long so I will stop here. Please feel free to add to my list of potential obsoletes.

Your innovative friend,
Me

OK, ONE thing I learned from Africa...

I think one of the biggest things that impacted me, or that I learned or became, whatever; is that Africa became real to me. Its people had a face, a name, and became more than an anonymous mortality statistic reported once again in Newsweek.

Let's face it, if we're being honest with ourselves, most of us feel a little sorrow when we hear about the tragedies in Africa, but for the most part, it doesn't exactly impact us. For to many of us, as much as we hate this ideology, Africans are just masses of faceless poor people, sharing the same earth, yes, but living in a different world. I'm not blaming anyone for thinking like this - we live thousands of miles away. But going there, people became real, they became our friends.

Not fully, I'll acknowledge, I still glaze over slightly when I hear about tragedies in Africa, dismissing them as "oh, it's Africa." My compassion is far from unfiltered. But it's been affected, it's been dented and my wall of apathy has definitely been bruised. Coming back to America, I've been fighting the wall's reconstruction, not wanting it to be built up again by stones of comfort and distraction.

And hopefully it won't be. For although I most definitely feel completely helpless in light of Africa's need, a journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step. So who knows what kind of fire a little compassion can spark.

Grenades, Drunk Soldiers, Eh - Just Another Day in the Congo

Let’s tell some stories of Africa. Hmmm….where should we begin. This will be more of an account of my journey rather than a rundown of the vast impact it had on my life – because umm…yeah I don’t know what that is.

So here’s a short little account of the first couple days. We flew into the Kigali, Rwanda airport. When we stepped off the plane, we literally stepped into the warm breeze of the country. We walked down the stairs of the plane onto the runway. I felt like I was a president or movie star in a private jet…well, close. I was almost sad to leave Kenya Airways, because they gave us all the free screwdrivers we wanted, not to mention Tuskers beer. Way to go Kenya Airways.

Anyway, I was immediately shocked by the view around me. Rwanda is extremely colorful and lush. Although, it is a third world country so the city is pretty dusty and smelly as well. We left for Congo the next afternoon. To get to Congo, we had to travel through three hours of Rwandan countryside. It was so beautiful. The scene was an array of banana trees, rural, primitive farms, women carrying fruit on the side of the road, mountains, mist and soccer games in the meadows. I felt like I stepped into the pages of National Geographic.

As we neared Goma, the landscape began to change, it became less and less green really, and from what I gathered, more and more poor. We finally came to rest on the border of Rwanda and the Democratic Republic of Congo – a place where I can’t say I ever expected to find myself. Harper came to usher across the border, a feat that I didn’t realize would be so difficult. Naturally, I was really excited to see her.

So we got our visas from Rwanda and attempted to cross the 5 meters or whatever to DRC – which was black and dusty compared to Rwanda. Harper went to talk to the guard about our arrival. After exchanging some Swahili she said we had to wait awhile. I asked why. UM apparently, there was a soldier with a grenade on the other side, and he was drunk so they were trying to get the grenade away from him.

Welcome to the Congo!

The soldier was finally calmed and disarmed. So we were able to get our visas approved at the official government office – a.k.a. a cement room with a computer. I didn’t have a visa yet. So I was last for the approval and a large group of us had already left for HEAL Africa. There were four of us remaining. It was dark, it was the Congo, and there were soldiers with big guns all around. I’m an American, when people have guns here – they conceal them or use them on deer. This made me nervous.

So there we were, huddled in a circle while we waited to get our bags across the border. Harper was having an argument with the “customs” people (a.k.a. people w/ guns) about checking our baggage. They wanted her to pay for them to not check. But she said she would only give $2. Finally, she won the argument after they had only checked a few bags and we were on our way. I was super excited to arrive at the Lucy’s house (the Dr and his wife that run HEAL), and the comfort it provided after a long, adventurous and crazy day.

Story one. More to follow.

Africa

So just so you all know (all two of you), I haven't written about Africa yet because I don't know what to say or where to start. A lot went on there. Needless to say it's hard to be back at work...

I will keep thinking.

kigalllllllllllllliiiiiiiii

hi from rwanda! cant type on this french keyboard but all is well. rwanda is so different - dusty, smelly but beautiful. truly the land of les milles collines - a thousand hills. hard to believe there was a genocide here not too long ago. this hotel looks nothing like the movie one btw. tomorrow we are off to HEAL africa and i am excited. tonight we get some MUCH needed rest. je suis très fatigue. Goodnight!

To the Congo

I am off to my jungle adventure. All prayers for safety and love and peace appreciated. I won't have lots of email access so if you would like to check out what's going on the team has a blog: http://urcongo.blogspot.com/. I don't know how to make a link to it for some reason this mac doesn't have a link button. Anyway, go old school and copy and paste.

OK I am off. Perhaps I will send a note from Hotel Rwanda.

Peace to the out.

Don't Be Fooled, You Are Not Who You Think You Are

I found this ad littering the margins of my precious gmail today:

Are You Justin Timberlake
It's Scary Accurate To See What Celebrity You Are. Find Out Now!
www.WhichCelebrityAmI.com

Are you Justin Timberlake. Obviously not! Is someone out there wondering if they are actually Justin Timberlake? Or some other celebrity for that matter? If so, they need to be locked up in the crazy bin and google does not need to be their enabler. In my heist to know everything, however, I clicked on the link to see “what celebrity” I really am – you know, since I’m not me, plus, apparently it’s “scary accurate.” I’m scared.

So I get to the page, and it asks me THREE questions that will forever reveal my true persona: 1 - if I’m a male or female, and 2 - asks me if I like to a) sing b) dance c) other. What the hek is other? Magic like David Blaine? Anyway from there we proceed to the last question, which asks us to select what we like to do in our free time

Party around the world
Wear a disguise to everday activities
Start a charity
Adopt children from third world countries
Something else...

Well those sound like things I always do in my free time! Esp the adopting children from third world countries and wearing disguise to everyday activities. As far as the adopting, I’ve been getting really good at that hobby. In fact, I have a bunch of babies scheduled to be picked up from China right now, and they will join the Ethiopian babies I have collected in my nursery. And I always wear disguises to everyday activities! My friends sometimes don’t recognize me because I dress up as Ronald McDonald to go to work. DUMMMB.

Also, what the hek are they referring to as “something else?” Perhaps, spending time in jail like Paris Hilton? Or participating in Scientology like The Cruises? Or going to rehab? That seems to be a popular one…

Anyway, so after I answered all of those questions, I was really excited to find out who I was, since obviously, I haven’t been myself for the last 24 years – and that’s a lot of years. BUT HERE’S THE CATCH _ they make you give your cell number so they can text it to your phone.

Scammers. They’re not getting my cell number. Looks like I will have to find my hidden celebrity elsewhere. Perhaps at one of those sites where the scan my photo and place it with a celebrities. That sounds much better.

Safe!

My co-worker, who deals with risk management at my work just informed me that, since we are such an international company, it actually HAS ransom/hostage insurance for its employees! Hahaha. Apparently it goes up to $50 mil. Looks like I'll be safe after all. I knew corporate America was good for something!

If You Are Taken Hostage, We Won’t Negotiate: Please Sign For Understanding

At a meeting for my Congo trip a couple weeks ago, I was handed many release forms to sign. One in particular, caught my attention and caused…um, just a bit of hesitation. The title at the top of the form read: Upper Room’s Kidnapping and Hostage-Taking for short term mission participants.

Hostage Form (click to enlarge)



Like I don’t have enough anxiety already. “Oh don’t worry,” my trip leader assured, “it’s just a formality.” Um, last time I checked, I didn’t have to sign a hostage release form to go on a field trip, or to go to Mexico, or to work at my company. How is it now a “formality.”

As I read further down the form, my anxiety heightened. For the point of the form was to let us know that in the event we are taken hostage, Upper Room will not negotiate for us. How reassuring! We had to sign that we understood. We had to sign that we understood that in the event that we are kidnapped in central Africa, we will be left to die.

All of a sudden I wanted to curl up in a master bedroom in Minnetonka. And lock the door. Minnetonka, people are safe there. No scary kidnappers, just the sound of a whirlpool and soft Michael Buble music playing through the built-in ceiling speakers.

I snapped out of my daydream however, because I realized I can’t save the world from Minnetonka, and that’s what I plan on doing in two weeks in Africa. So I signed my life away, with the stroke of a Bic pen. I had subtle reassurance however, because I knew if I were kidnapped, George Bush would surely rescue me. He could make it his redemption platform and it would be good for both of us.

So I just wanted all my friends to know that if George Bush does fail me, however, I am charging you with Mission: Rescue Colleen From Congolese Kidnappers. And if any of you complete this mission successfully, I promise to buy you a nice house in Minnetonka, where you and I both will never be in danger again.

Um Who Cares, Oh Yeah Not Me

I am at work right now, dutifully avoiding a story that has been in the dugout for like two weeks now. It's up for bat tomorrow, however, so it finally has to get done if I want to keep my job. Most stories here I can write without too much blood, sweat and tears, and without too much complaining believe it or not. This one, however, is a doozie. And I am wishing it away like The Plague.

It's on our Settlement Operations group. Can we say BORING and WHO CARES. The thing is, no one cares, besides maybe the Settlement Operations group. Also, the thing about writing this story is this group has the most complicated job in the whole company. I met with the manager for an hour and still have no idea what his job is. Not kidding. I mean, in general I know what they do, they are in charge of balancing our 'cash flow.' So, making sure that everyone gets paid the right amount and all our money is kept track of. FUN! Don't you guys want to read the details of how exactly that is done?! Oh wait, no you don't. Because that would be agonizing and no one really cares as long as they get paid correctly. And guess what they do, so who cares. I have great logic.

It's just one of those things you don't need to know. Let's just pretend it's magic, I don't care. Like I pretend the trash is magic, or the Internet, that's magic too. I have no desire to figure out how this magic works... or it ruins the flippin' fun. I mean, how happy would you be about receiving a commission check from my company if, along with the check, you had to hear every minute detail, in language completely foreign to you, about how that money was placed in your hand, and what systems were used to place it there. NO. I'd PAY you that money back not to hear it! That's 30 minutes of my life that I can't get back! I could've used it for browsing the Internet, lecture free!!!

Ugh. I like writing stories employees hobbies/volunteerism/accomplishments much better. Because, they are actually worthwhile.

Alright, I'm going to suck it up, sit up in the ergonomically correct position and continue to use every ounce of energy my brain can provide to focus on figuring out and writing this article. Peace be with me.

Apparently, Lund's Has Really Good Seafood Salad

You know that cliché saying your mother always told you: “Beggars can’t be choosers…” Well apparently, she was wrong. I was with a friend at Calhoun square Saturday, shopping at the amazing Urban Outfitters sale, when a homeless man asked my friend if she could help him out. She asked him if he was hungry, and he said “very.”

Friend: Oh – do you want Jimmy John’s? I could grab something there?
Man (actually his name was Bobby): The deli at Lund’s has some great fried chicken, it’s right over there (pointing).
Friend: That’s not very good for you! What about some sandwiches, turkey?
Bobby: Yeah they have good sandwiches over there too
Friend: But no Jimmy John’s?? (It was the closest)
Bobby: Man, I hate Jimmy John’s.
Friend: OK well what kind of sandwiches do you like?
Bobby: They have some great seafood salad at Lund’s Deli, and if they don’t have that, great tuna.

This was the pickiest homeless guy I have ever met. I started laughing the moment he said “seafood salad.” 1. That’s not a sandwich. 2. How does he know every item on the Lund’s Deli menu? I have never even been there. 3. He was starving but still couldn't stomach Jimmy John’s 4. Seafood Salad??? He asked for that? Are you serious? Ha, that sounds like a delicatessen! I would never even buy myself seafood salad! Who even knows they have that at Lund’s?!

But my friend went over and bought him seafood salad and brought it back, and he was much obliged. Apparently, he was only waiting for his disability money to kick in before he could find a place to live. He had bi-polar disorder. Imagine being bi-polar and being homeless, well I suppose that is why he is homeless. Those illnesses are really expensive to treat, so you are kind of out of luck when you have no money. It’s sad. We are all very lucky. Well, at least he had some really great Lund’s seafood salad to much on the rest of the day. He probably was really hungry, and just couldn’t stomach any more take outs from Jimmy John’s. Oh America.

Feeling the HATE

Nope, the following entry will not be a philosophic pandering on the abundance of hate in the modern world. Instead it is about why my friends, the people the very closest to me, hate me. You see lately, I’ve been receiving a string of emails that very plainly point to their feelings of dislike. For example, yesterday, I was minding my own business, sending nice emails to my friends and I check my gmail box as is routine every ten minutes and this is what I found:

A loved one, friend, admirer, or other computer user has sent you a card from someecards.com!

Oh I thought! How nice! So I opened it:


Message: Just thought I’d shoot it to you straight. Anne.

Anne – you just got one strike against a visit by me to Seattle. Strike three – you have to buy my ticket yourself…..

So if that was enough hate for the day, I was talking to my two old college roommates over email. Having a pleasant discussion about the fact that I just turned 24 and they are, indeed, almost 25 :).

And look what their responses to my gentle reminders of their upcoming birthdays were!!!

Tessa: Katie and I may be turning 25, but at least we're not showing early signs
of Alzheimer's Disease and we can remember where we put our cheese

Katie: good call. and tessa and i have hot bodies.

Excuse me! Now they are bashing my weight. So my best friends just called me a) a social loser b) fat and diseased.

Lol.

Aren’t you glad you don’t have friends like me. Time for new friends: TO THE PALACE.

I’d rather not meet at the convenience store. Thanks.

So I don’t like to write about this kind of stuff, but I just have to comment on this one. So today, I was minding my own business, writing some good ‘ol creative work on like the Settlement Department and an with the familiar alert beep, a new message popped up in my inbox. It said:

Subject: Hey!

I would like buy you a soda or something on this hot summer day. What do ya say?

Ron
(the woo guy)

Just from the name. You can tell this might be trouble. I have met this guy once at a Discover your Strengths class – his was woo, hence the woo, and I would say he is upper thirties. Which, I guess doesn’t matter too much, but still, not really what I’m looking for. So I was like, great, what am I supposed to say because I could run into him in the halls at any minutes. After pondering for a bit, I wrote back that I was really busy today and had to be out by five, but thanks anyway.

My co-worker said that he would write back. He bet that he would. “Look you’ve got a suitor! If you don’t tell him you have a boyfriend waiting for you at five he’ll write back.”

I disagreed, I thought he would get the point. The other guy who sits next to me asked what we were discussing, so I showed him the emails, and his reply was:

“That guy, he’s a total creep, I’m surprised he hasn’t gotten fired for sexual harassment. He hits on all the girls! You really missed out too, before he had a mullet.”

Great, not really what I wanted to hear. Sure enough, not long after I sent the not-so-apologetic “I’m busy” email I get a response back again.

Re:Hey!
“Ah yes deadlines, gotta love them. I'll try you back later in the week. Maybe we could meet in the Atrium and grab something from the little store, If that's cool with you!”

Now he wants to grab something from the convenience store. No no. Listen up people: Work email is an inappropriate place to try and ‘get to know someone better,’ or get a soda owhatever you call it. And, a diet Pepsi and some Funions are not going to tempt me into making an exception. Especially, if you are over thirty five. Thank you.

Epilogue – I just found out this gets creepy. Apparently, this guy sent the copier repair man up to my floor to 'find stuff out' about me. So the copier repair man came up and starting asking the front secretary all these questions. She was a bit confused. Then he wandered over here to find out what I do and where I work - without saying a word to me. Creepy? Yes. Who send the copier repair man up to spy on someone. How is this my life? (thanks for the phrase Anne)

Way to Save Africa People! Now Drink My Keg.

Today I pulled up into my office parking lot at 7:45. Like usual, I was fifteen minutes late. Not so usual, I had a giant keg in the back seat of my car. I really hope no employee of supervisoral status was observing me as I fitted my car between the yellow lines. I did my best to sneakily hide the keg from view, but the sun reflecting off its large, steel surface didn’t really help me out too well. Neither did the fact that the thing takes up like the whole backseat.

My lonely, fat keg lost its twin on Friday night at our HEAL Africa party. The left over keg is most stubborn of the two because even though it saw its partner disappearing, it refused to be emptied. And as punishment, it now has to reside in my hot car until I find some way to get rid of it. This way is yet unknown to me so if anyone would like to drink a couple gallons of stellar, tasty Rolling Rock, please send me a memo and we can work something out. Maybe we can tap it during lunch sometime? Lunch break anyone? I think I would like a Rolling Rock lunch break, work has been pretty dang LAME lately.

Anyway, regardless of the leftover keg, our benefit party was pretty successful Friday night. So thanks everyone who came! We raised over $700 for HEAL Africa, of course this donation will be offset a little bit due to the unexpected beer prices that were endured Friday night, but hey, Africa will still get a lot of money anyway. Thanks to you, my generous friends. Who needs The Fray when you all already know How to Save a Life (cheesy song allusion, sorry). When I head over to Afrique in a few weeks, Harper said that I can hand pick where our donations go. So, if anyone has some input, please advise.

A few weeks, man, I am leaving in 3.5 weeks. Still seems like kind of a long ways away to me, especially since that’s like 25 work days or something. I am only waiting on my passport. And I suppose I will have to take a trip to REI or Target for supplies. The second night of our trip, we are staying at the famous “Hotel Rwanda,” otherwise known as Les Milles Collines. It is located in Kigali, Rwanda. Don’t worry, no one was killed at the Hotel during the genocide. Plus, it looks a little different because the movie was actually filmed at a Hotel in South Africa. Those Hollywood tricksters. From Rwanda, we will trek across the border to Goma and from there we will HEAL Africa. I promise to wipe the continent free from AIDS in 12 days straight. Guaranteed.

Ok maybe not. Let’s face it, I can even solve the problem of my left over keg. I have a lot of work to do...

No More Falling In Love: I Can't Afford It

Excuse me, I have a bone to pick here. Every time I look on the good ‘ol FB, another couple of my “friends” are engaged. OK people time to stop getting married. Particularly my close friends, if you could not get married for awhile that would be great. Unless you want me to a) not have friends, b) be completely broke from wedding activities. Come on friends, think of others here!!!

Friends that are getting married this summer: Do not be offended, you know I love going to your festivities, weddings are a blast, but pile one on top of the other and pretty soon my financial security collapses. I mean we have bachelorette parties, showers, pre-wedding parties, rehearsals, the weddings themselves etc… This summer isn’t even bad. I only have two weddings to go to. Both of which, mind you, I am very excited about.

Last summer, however, was a different story. I had a ridiculous amount of weddings to attend that left me in the debtor’s prison. And I didn’t even have to pay for the wedding I was actually in. I can’t imagine what shape I would have been in if I had. Thank you Tessa!! This gets me thinking, maybe people should get married when they are older, because then their friends will have more money to spend on them. None of this post-college-grad-broke sort of thing to deal with. I mean, you graduate and are faced not only with looming college debt, but also with the cost of others falling in love. Yeah, if you could not fall in love until like 2013, I would really appreciate it.

Oh, another thing about weddings is the time. See you not only have to go to the wedding, but all the activities surrounding the wedding. That’s like, every weekend in the summer if you have six to go to like I did. Seriously! And I only caught the bouquet once! I want my money back! (JK LOVE YOU ALL).

Ok I’ll stop complaining now. Because all in all, weddings are fun to attend, in moderation of course. I’m actually going to a bachelorette party this weekend which will be a blast. Plus it’s fun getting all dolled up, putting on your dancing shoes and wrapping up your presents in little silver bows. And sometimes, when the bride and the groom say “I do,” I actually forget about myself for a moment and are overjoyed at their happiness.

I know hard to believe, but true :)