misshapen hyperspace medley

to the best day ever.

{workday love letter}

Charles says it's his best, but really it's mine and my privilege.  (<--Appropriation really is fun for everyone!)

He locked his keys in the car yesterday, which I drove two hours in a fury to undo.  I felt waves of frustration pour over me since the sneaky hate spiral had clearly won, and my marital discord continued.

But this morning I woke up and remembered how he is outlandishly kind and caring most every moment;  how we get to start each day anew; how I'm always discovering things and seeing life differently with him.

Most of all how, even when it's hard, it's incredible.

{probably a better partner than yesterday-me}

{happy non-awkward-hands birthday wishes, love}

Be beside me somewhere: on the split stools of this bar, by the edge of this cliff, in the seats of this borrowed car, at the prow of this ship, on the all-forgiving cushions of this thread-bare sofa in the one-story copper-crying fixer-upper whose windows we once squinted through for hours before coming to our sense: “What would we even do with such a house?”

-JSF, published in The New Yorker, June 14, 2010, p.72, {link}

I was well on my way...

... to a sneaky hate spiral today.

Seriously.  Uno.  Husband and I are spatting, which is crummy and leaving me feeling totally drained.  It's not even a big spat - but I am le tired.

Dos. I leave my work badge at my house.  I realize this the moment that the bus approaches, so there is no turning back.  I'm headed in mega-early, so I know there's not going to be anyone at the office to let me in.

Entonces - Transit card begins making crazy-ass noises, throwing both myself and the bus driver into a state of confusion - I think there's not enough funds so I start to add money.  Lots of grabbing, shuffling and balancing my three bags that I'm carrying.  (Don't judge me!  I like having a big lunch.)  Then maybe, in actuality, I already paid?  (So the bus driver and I discuss.)  Who knows?!  Okay, we agree. It's fine; move on. I head to take my seat on a very empty bus.

Sigh of morning-misanthropy-induced relief!  Finally a break.

I delve into my book for a moment or two, and then I hear something behind me.

Empieza: flood of anxiety that I have to talk to someone.

¡Pero!  I turn and realize it's my super-sweet bus-friend.  We chat for a while, and it makes me feel even better.  I'm getting a handle on this sneaky hate spiral!

"Wahahaha!" cackles sneaky hate spiral.  Said-sweet-bus-friend gets off.  All hell breaks loose.

Newsflash: The bus doesn't have heat.  I find myself thinking, 'well, hey, it's crowded so we're fine.'  Five minutes pass as we chug along and the driver realizes, 'Hark!  It is not okay.  This self-produced body-heat won't cut it for the esteemed MTA standards.'

Pues - We commence sitting there, parked. For thirty minutes.  Waiting...waiting for another bus.   The bus is getting cold!  It's not moving anymore and we're not moving anymore. Grumble grumble.

¿Poorque? Sneaky hate spiral?!

But then.  It's time to switch.  And right before, I noticed there's a growing sense of 'holymother! -What-the-what?!' camaraderie established between all bus-mates.  Bonding commences.  And - it helps!

Example in -quote-form:
As we're switching from our broken-down bus to the fixed one (which will surely be full), guy says to (who I assume to be his) pregnant girlfriend: "J, let yo stomach hang out so that you're sure to get a seat."

They know I heard them and we all sort of catch a smile and muffle slight laughter.

Then, I was the last to switch buses because I was succumbing to the hate-spiral's victory, so I'm standing, and a 15 year old kid glances at me, stands up, and offers me his seat.

"Holymother! (Again!)," I'm thinking.  There is still so much kindness and consideration in the world.  (<-- Sounds trite, but it is not. Emphatically!) *Also, please note that I share in some of this remaining sense-of-decency and thanked the kiddo for the offer, but did not take the seat.  Had I done otherwise, I would have been 'that woman,' sitting comfortably with her over-sized lunch nestled at her feet, while forcing the young, kindhearted soul to juggle his overly-large textbooks which are teacher-induced, as opposed to my hunger/glutton-induced baggage.

Eat that! Sneaky-hate spiral!

Lastly, a gem.  One woman gets on the bus about five stops after most of us have undergone this fiasco.  (So there are many-a long face.)  She yell-talks (literally):
"GOOOD MORNING!..SHHIT! What's wrong with y'all?!"

And now I'm sitting at Caribou, sipping on coffee, the situation is, yet-again, temporarily ameliorated.

Record so far:

Sneaky-hate spiral: 3  (badge, transit card, bus breakdown) Ellie: 3 (bus-friend, new bus-friends, coffee)

..> And ready for whatever's next

1 day: 2 blog posts is to 1 manual-writing project:: welcoming a plethora of distractions

Proof.

I was never very good at creating analogies in elementary school, middle school, high school, college or last week.

But, I do have an eye for quality analogies developed by others.

Case and point:

Lowe's : Muslims

FAO Schwarz :: Nine-year-olds

This nugget of knowledge originated from Aasif Mandvi of The Daily Show with Jon Stewart.  

Le sigh.  It's a highlight of both the awesomeness and drudgery of our culture, when a political comedy show is the source of some of the most penetrating commentary on the fissures of our political system (and American culture and society as a whole).  Case and point (take 2):  This segment from last night's show. And this one. Oh, and also, this.

Clips like this are moments of Jon Stewart and the Daily Show staff at their finest.

{Another example}

Cease: link inundation.... now.

Loook what I can do - part 2!

For a 'Crafternoon':
1. Yarn-wreath.   P
2. Paperback-book Christmas trees.  P
3.  Earring holder(s).

Two down - one to go.

{I know it looks doubtful, but just wait!}

...but wait! There's more.

An unexpected foray into book stacking!  My brilliant friend, Seren, came up with this gem of an idea.  I had a blast constructing and crafting the night away with her.

(Oy vey - the previous sentence made me feel like a domesticity queen.)

4.  Christmas (v. holiday) tree o' books.  (An unexpected craft-task(tic) sneaks onto the list!) P

{voila! c'est magnifique!}

{partner in craft-crime}

Today I'm thankful for...

...the beauty and the horror that is the 'shitty first draft.'

God bless 'em.


Now, practically even better news than that of short assignments is the idea of 
shitty first drafts. All good writers write them. This is how they end up with good 
second drafts and terrific third drafts. People tend to look at successful writers who 
are getting their books published and maybe even doing well financially and think 
that they sit down at their desks every morning feeling like a million dollars, feeling 
great about who they are and how much talent they have and what a great story they 
have to tell; that they take in a few deep breaths, push back their sleeves, roll their 
necks a few times to get all the cricks out, and dive in, typing fully formed passages 
as fast as a court reporter. But this is just the fantasy of the uninitiated. I know some 
very great writers, writers you love who write beautifully and have made a great deal 
of money, and not one of them sits down routinely feeling wildly enthusiastic and 
confident. Not one of them writes elegant first drafts. All right, one of them does, but 
we do not like her very much. We do not think that she has a rich inner life or that 
God likes her or can even stand her. (Although when I mentioned this to my priest 
friend Tom, he said you can safely assume you've created God in your own image 
when it turns out that God hates all the same people you do.) 

...

Almost all good writing begins with terrible first efforts. You need to start 

somewhere. Start by getting something -- anything -- down on paper. A friend of 

mine says that the first draft is the down draft -- you just get it down. The second 

draft is the up draft -- you fix it up. You try to say what you have to say more 

accurately. And the third draft is the dental draft, where you check every tooth, to 

see if it's loose or cramped or decayed, or even, God help us, healthy.  

from the Chapter 'Shitty First Drafts' via the book Bird by Bird by Anne Lamott

Laceration licking

a year from now we'll all be gone

all our friends will move away

and they're going to better places

but our friends will be gone away

nothing is as it has been

and i miss your face like hell

and i guess it's just as well

but i miss your face like hell

been talking bout the way things change

and my family lives in a different state

and if you don't know what to make of this

then we will not relate

so if you don't know what to make of this

then we will not relate

rivers and roads

rivers and roads

rivers 'til i reach you

-th&th

{link}

Festivity-Funtivity

Loook what I can do!

Spent some of the weekend hall-decking, part of which entailed whittling something off my 'DIY' list.  (I blame Pinterest.)

{you'll never guess where I live}

For a 'Crafternoon':
1. Yarn-wreath.  (Inspired by this blog.)   P
2. Paperback-book Christmas trees.  (I plan to finally put some of my old Economist magazines to good use.)
3.  Earring holder(s).  (Inspired by my brain, actually.  I mean, I'm sure I'd seen it somewhere, but I made one of these on my own, pre-Pinterest, and I love it!  I plan to replicate for some upcoming friend-birthdays.)

One down - two to go.

Thricely quoted

That sounds like a 'real nonstop head-spin twirlfest.' 

-HH (quoting Jon Stewart, who quoted Abe Lincoln.  Obviously.)

Quote is in summation of things lately.  Not in an, 'OMG! My life is so hard!' way.  Decisions loom on things like attending graduate school, moving for a job and caring for family.  I'm fully cognizant of the fact that I'm immensely privileged to be faced with such conundrums.

These decisions will just have an impact on the trajectory of life, and since when did I have to start making these decisions for myself?!  I'd like for my mom to handle this, please.  Or better yet, Rhodes College (where you think you're living and operating autonomously, but your food and livelihood are accounted for, and all you do is attend class on occasion and eat doughnuts with friends)!

{they're probs playing Solitaire. double vice-whammy}

Also, my 'Statement of Purpose' for grad school apps is suffering immensly due to my vices and lack of discipline, which lately have included:
1. Battlestar Galactica
2. Playing Solitare
3. Blogging

So, basically I'm channeling a tech-savvy but socially awkward nerd, my grandmother and a stay-at-home mom.

I guess that's something, which is better than nothing, and also better than channeling Godzilla.  Or maybe I'm finally letting some of my Greek heritage emerge.

Alas.  I digress.

Turkey tally

Evenings spent with my favorite people (grandparents, mom, brother and hubs) always result in some quotable moments.

First:
Ellie: Papoo, call me when you go to Hobby Lobby.  I want to go with you to get some crafting stuff.
Nanny: What did you say?
Ellie: (Repeats statement)
Nanny: Ohhh! I thought you said you wanted to go get some crappy stuff.
Ellie: That's probably more accurate.
Everyone errupts into a fit of giggles.

Second:
We're driving back from my grandparents house around 10pm when Charlie notices someone running in my grandparents' neighborhood.
Charlie: (exclamatorily) What on earth?!  Why would someone go running now?!
Ellie: Thanksgiving guilt. 

Giving Thanks

There's a Baltimore Bomb pie in my trunk, an Ale-8 iced down in the fridge that's calling my name, and my  two favorite sidekicks waiting with anticipation.

This holiday season I'm grateful for a beautiful place to call my longtime home, a job that enables and affords me the opportunity to return, and a family that welcomes me with open arms when I arrive. 

{"Go where your best prayers take you."  -Buechner}

GRE word-o-the-year. Pt. 1

woolgathering
wool.gath.er.ing [woo'l-gath-er-ing]
noun
1. indulgence in idle fancies and in daydreaming; absentmindedness

And because I love all three of my readers oh so very much, a sentence!
Ellie's workday leading up to Thanksgiving break was marred by frequent brain farts and bouts of woolgathering.


ANND, because you're extra-special lucky-ducks (and not turkeys, praise be!), for you, a pict-chaur:

{woolgathering}

Reality TV: Evasion is futile

The ongoing coverage of the congressional supercommitee tasked with cutting the federal deficit fascinates me.  (How can it not?  If I had time right now I would commit hours to an MS paint drawing of the congressmen/woman decked out in capes.)

Seriously, though - these twelve individuals will have a huge impact on the future health (fiscally, politically, etc) of our government, and this comes with few strings attached to implementation of the changes they agree upon.  It just seems like a hugely unique opportunity to break away from the deadlock and partisan scuffle that plagues American politics. (Read here for a more eloquent articulation of this.)

And yet, the more recent stories covering the supercommittee give me a feeling akin to viewing a primetime reality show.  Worse off is that it seems more and more likely that the outcomes of the supercommittee are moving towards paralleling the dismal and discouraging outcomes and feelings that pour over you after you realize that you've wasted an hour of your life watching these mind-numbing TV shows.

Case and point on reality-show analogy is this article and flowchart (flowchart!) in today's NPR coverage of the progress of the committee.

"B-b-but!  Those women!  Their dresses are sooo shiny!!  Look at their teeth!  And! All those numbers!  And who knows what's in those suitcases?!  The game is worth it..."

Really, supercommitteans?!


Really?.

The abandoned twist and the heave-ho

{a twist deferred. from the OWS library}

Ventured to NYC (bright lights, big city!) this past weekend  and decided to take in the OWC protest.  Thus, it was a bit sobering to see that the protesters were ousted in the darkness of last night, less than a hundred hours after I visited the site and spoke with some about their cause.

I'm generally reticent to quickly draw a line in the sand (especially in a forum like this) on where I stand on such highly politicized issues.  So in keeping with my normal mode of operation I don't feel a need to weigh in on my personal opinion of the overall validity and themes of the protest.

I just, I guess... I get that the protests can become health, security and sanitation nightmares for city officials and residents alike.  However, it seems pretty sketchy to shut them down in the middle of the night, and I feel like there's some level of using the legitimate potential for threats as a mechanism to silence the voices altogether.

Uncool.

supercaliFridaylisticexpialidocius

Things to love about today:

1. High-five Friday at Caribou.  I'm really starting to love that place (even though my wallet doesn't).
2. The release of Life Reports via this series, instigated by David Brooks.  I may or may not have mailed my grandparents a letter asking them to submit an essay. Whatevs.
3. Bright lights, big city! (And the people within.)

Robot Phone: Check!

{I've officially rejoined the 21st century.}

Warm fuzzy.

Marriage is work, y'all.  It's like how you have to have the awkward conversations with your roommate about dishes, but you all don't always communicate that great about it and feelings instantly get hurt, and it becomes this vicious cycle when it should be an easy, straightforward conversation, etc etc.  Then times that by like, 20 or something.

But, you know, 'Nothing in this world that's worth having comes easy.'

And so, in the midst of a good-but-trying weekend, where a bit of work had to happen (and continues to take place) a warm-fuzzy reminder came to me via you-tube enabled procrastination.  And even though the quote came from TV-sitcom land and was kind of plastic-y, the essence of it rang sweet and true.


When you're a kid you assume your parents are soulmates.  My kids are gonna be right about that. 
-Pam, from The Office

Officiating Inspiration

It's going to be a series, because I feel like there is a ton of potential within this topic and it's just been gestating, preparing itself to come forth and provide all two people who know about this blog with bountiful youtube-amusement fruit.

I will post on a non-regular and unexpected basis about who-knows-what in relation to wedding officiation. (<-- It's a word as of: now. Or always was according to dictionary.com. Whatev.)

Kick - off:

Classic.

The under-appreciated, but also fantastic:

Folk-inspired rumination

Listening to The Avett Brothers today.  Generally, I have no idea what the majority of the words are to a song until I decide that I like the tune and look them up.

And so it went with 'The Perfect Space.'

This was an instance where the lyrics gave me an even deeper appreciation of the song.

And I wanna have friends that I can trust,
that love me for the man I’ve become and not the man that I was.

I've been thinking a good deal about forgiveness post-meaningful conversation on a megabus this weekend.

But, today I was struck by a different aspect of the second line.  What if the (wo)man I'm growing into is not the person that I want to become?  Sometimes I sense that my feelings of misanthropy and cynicism grow as the years pass.

Blurgh. (And: Nerds! And: Awww, shark farts!)

What Elmo and Mandela have in Common

Motho ke motho ka motho yo mongwe.

A person is a person through other people.

I'm a big fan of The Daily Show with Jon Stewart. However, along with the rest of humanity, I always feel strapped for time.  Thus I generally only watch the first few clips of the show (mainly the comedy sketches) and skip over the interview at the end.

A week or two ago, after receiving a tip from a friend, I decided to break from my normal routine and watch the interview with Kevin Clash, the puppeteer for Elmo.  It's definitely worth a watch.

One of my biggest takeaways from the interview (beyond the exciting realization that Clash is a native Baltimorean) was the acknowledgement that Clash gave to the mentors in his life.  The fluidity of how he recognized those who had a significant impact on his journey and career path gave me a deep sense of humility and gratitude.  I interpreted this modesty as a natural infusion in the life of a seemingly kind and incredibly passionate individual.

I was then reminded of someone I admire who has a completely different story.  A few years ago I made a cursory stab at reading Nelson Mandela's autobiography Long Walk to Freedom.  A few chapters in I realized I needed to give the book more of my attention, so I stashed it away to read later.  But my short reading of the first few chapters stuck with me.  The biggest thing I noted was how Mandela spent the bulk of his (initial pages at least) writing on the role others played in his life.

Evidence: "He was a patient and generous teacher, and sought to impart not only the details of the law but the philosphy behind it." (p. 73)  Or "I had the privilege of meeting tribal leaders from all over southern Africa." (p. 83) Or "I have mentioned many of the people who influenced me, but more and more, I had come under the wise tutelage of..." (p. 95)
...and I found all of these quotes in the time-frame of a rushed, two-minute skimming of the chapters I read three years ago, so you can imagine that there are countless others...

All this to say, the impact that mentors have on our lives keeps returning to the forefront of my mind and manifesting itself in different conversations and experiences over the past few weeks.  To flesh out this idea further, I've been thinking about the countless mentors that have made an indelible mark on my journey.  Although there are numerous people, I feel a need to spend a bit more time giving this thought stream it's due-diligence by acknowledging and reflecting on the role some specific people have played in my life.  So.

More soon.

{@The High Line in NYC}

Spiritual gift - Exhibit A

The Lord has blessed me in many ways.  One-such way is that I am quite the left-brained, creative type* and have a knack for developing brilliant business ventures/start-up ideas.

Some of these include:

1. Rent-a-grownup.com
2. A (good) social networking/meetup.com site for Sports Fans  (The heart of this industry surely lies in reaching out to the UK-diaspora.)
3. Pumpkin spiced lightening
4. Thanksgiving music industry  (You know white people would be all over this in a hot second.)

Now if only the Lord had gifted me with some business-savvy or a best-friend who is a venture-capital, econ-y, connected-and-can-network-out-their-ears type, whiz kid.  

Imagine the possibilities.

*starred things are likely lies, damned lies or statistics.

Sometimes Charlie sneaks messages into the sandwiches he makes me...

{I have the best husband in the world. Only really.}

How do you get from here to the rest of the world?

** Spoiler alert: Some content reveals general plot information from Seasons 4 and 5 of the Wire**

{Start at 2:00 for this clip}

During Seasons 4 and 5 of the Wire, the show tracks the lives of four kids.  At the point of entry, they are students in a Baltimore city school.  Although they are neighbors, each comes from a different background, all of which reflect the bifurcations of parenting and home structure in an urban environment.

I’ve been struck lately with the story of Namond - the son of a fairly successful drug dealer named Wee Bay (who we meet earlier in the show).  *Side note, Wee Bay had an affinity for fish and kept a pretty extensive collection between a variety of tanks, which was quite bemusing.

Anyway – each of the four students take different paths as the show progresses.  What I found to be most interesting is that, of the four, Namond is the only one who escapes the throngs of the corners and the penal system.  The most compelling aspect of Namond’s story is that at the onset he was the wealthiest, most cared for and most confident.  Concurrently, he was the most evasive, apathetic, lazy and petulant of his cohorts in school.

I’ve been wondering lately – reflecting on relationships that I forged in Botswana and observations I made about development, as well as revisiting memories from different service opportunities I’ve experienced.  

When it comes to ‘vulnerable communities’ - Is it just me, or is it those that are the most financially well-positioned and exposed to the structures of our system (particularly the mechanisms of capitalism and it’s offshoots) far more likely to make it ‘out’ (to get from here to the rest of the world)?  I feel like you need exposure to wealth and to a support network that is confident in your success – in order to even really hope to make the jump from ‘vulnerable and low-income’ to ‘financially comfortable and middle class.’   

Contrast Namond with Dukie (my favorite character).  Dukie was the smartest and most hard-working (academically) of the four students.  However, he had no support network and his family regularly sold any clothing and material support provided by social programs for drug money.  At one point in the show he returns to his row home to find that his family has been evicted and left without giving him any notice.

In spite of Dukie’s strong work ethic and likability, it is Namond, the whiney, abrasive and entitled student who captures the eye of Bunny Colvin and ultimately is whisked away from the corners.  Why?  

Slight tangent -- Why is it that most of the volunteers for my organization want to work with refugees who are essentially wealthier and better-positioned instead of working with refugees directly from a conflict area with very little knowledge or cultural background in the American context?  Why is it that relationship-building with students in Botswana was much more fluid when those students were from a bigger city, children of government professionals or foreigners themselves?  

Is it that these individuals have a foundational understanding (however tenuous it may be) of culture and communication that is necessary for succeeding in 'our 'system?  Is it that these individuals have accepted the importance of ‘rugged individualism’ and aren’t restrained by family commitments and the burdens of their peers?  Is it that our system values the confidence and can-do attitude that is imbued in these individuals who are ‘top-dog’ within their communities? 

I may be totally off here, and of course – as the great Mark Twain says ‘All generalizations are false, including this one.’  But, if I’m on to some semblance of a trend here, then I think that leads to questions of --

What does this mean for cross-cultural relations? 

… for urban development? 

…for international relief and development work?  

To make it more direct and stress the sense of urgency for the individuals who are on the outermost folds of society with the least support - What does this mean for someone like Dukie? 

I’m guessing a starting juncture is to strive for more than just hope and wishes.

tee-hee, and a glimpse of my future

This was the groupon in my inbox today.  Envisaging the type of person who will use a Groupon to get a tattoo removed made me giggle.  

(Imagine: The now stay-at-home mom who totally embraced the 70s in her youth, finally realizes that she might as well pound the nail in to the coffin that was her former, free-spirited life by purchasing this Groupon to have the words 'Free Love' removed from her lower back or left breast.)

Tee hee.  (And please note, I am not judging; I am just amused.  Presently I am bouncing around the idea of getting a tattoo, and if I get a tattoo there's no way I'm putting it somewhere lame, aka unseen.)  

Thus, I will most assuredly use a robot-version of Groupon to help minimize the expense of my tattoo removal when I hit 42 and 3 months.  And, I won't even have the memories of experiencing the 'free love' movement to help me grapple with the tumult caused by this Groupon-impelled loss.  

Update to foot-putting-in-mouth

Way #1 not to not-put-your-foot-where-your-mouth is:
Use Space-Jam references in all circumstances all day long.

But something just clicked and I can't stop myself!

+

=

Just because the birds are doing it...

...doesn't make it trendy or awesome.  (<--Life lesson of the day.)

Once when Charlie and I were in the midst of a heated conversation Charlie interjected 'Put your foot where your mouth is!!'

I gave him my 'that's not right' look and we burst into a fit of laughter and entered into a state of jocundity.  (<-- Eat that, GRE vocab section.)

Charlie's point was meant to be something along the lines of 'put your money where your mouth is.'  What emerged, however, has provided significant succor to our marriage.  Exclaiming 'Put your foot where your mouth is!'  has diffused many an argument, ameliorated tensions and helped us articulate our reticence in those moments of stupor where we're low-on-coffee intake or just plain speechless.

This past week, though, I have excelled at putting my foot where my mouth is unintentionally and in ways that aren't as humorous.

I've also been reading through Proverbs.  Even though it's chalk-full of what could be interpreted as passing quips, there are recurrent themes.  One of the most prominent of these themes is shutting your trap and thinking before your speak.

The tongue has the power of life and death,
   and those who love it will eat its fruit.  (18.21)


A gossip betrays a confidence;
   so avoid anyone who talks too much. (20.19)


The one who has knowledge uses words with restraint,
   and whoever has understanding is even-tempered. (17.27)


Sigh.  Not my strong suit... being patient and quiet or heeding what I read.  Putting my foot in my mouth, although it seems a bit awkward and uncomfortable, is way easier.

It's just that good.

HBO’S ‘The Wire’ is a critically acclaimed show that traces crime, corruption and dysfunction in Baltimore as it weaves itself through the drug trade, the seaport system, the city government and bureaucracy, the school system and the print news media.  In a city as complex and variegated as Baltimore, you can imagine the difficulty in attempting to encapsulate and portray these sinuosities.

In spite of the difficulty of the task at hand, David Simon, the creator of the show and a former police reporter in Baltimore, and his team propel themselves above and beyond the challenge.  They develop a series that is so effective at capturing the challenges and complexities of urban poverty and bureaucratic entrenchment that it could stand alone as a go-to, classic, 'media-textbook' of sorts for developing an understanding of the under girding forces of urban development.

And on and on, with never-ending sentence after never-ending sentence, I can go… Anyway, moving forward.  Charlie and I moved to Baltimore in the fall/winter of 2009 and we didn’t know a soul. (Actually, we knew – 1 person.  But he was often busy skateboarding, and who can blame him for that?)  So, who did we befriend, but the TV Show about our new homeland, The Wire?

And boy, am I glad we made that choice (as depressing as having a TV show as a friend sounds) because now, almost two years later – different subplots subtly emerge and challenge me in ways unimaginable prior to watching the show.  The connections from the show pop up in all facets of my daily life.  They span from the challenges and difficulties I encountered when I 'taught for America,' to the observations that I take-in on my daily commute, and even to issues currently facing the aid and development organization where I work.

Anyway, enough gushing about the Wire.  There's a particular subplot that's been brewing  in the caverns of my mind which will surely lend itself to a forthcoming post.  In the meantime I’ll close with one of my favorite scenes.  (Worth noting: I probably have at least thirty 'favorite' scenes.)

Disclaimer: there's significant incidence of distasteful language in the video.  But don't let that stop you. It's worth it.

{You think Ronald McDonald gonna go down in that basement and say...'Hey, Mr. Nugget! You the bomb!?}

Closing charge: Winter is just around the corner.  Instead of feeling blue, consider holing up and making a new best friend, The Wire.

Pigeonhole Times #1.

So a few weeks back I received an amazing email from a friend.  She’s a fantastic writer and her emails always make my desk-job workday more enlightened.

{email}

I'm talking to Ellie about this right now, but I have to share this with the group because it's priceless.  There have been several country-wide protests (hartals) lately called by the opposition party.  The opposition leader, Khaleda Zia, announced she was going on a hunger strike for--wait for it--six hours.  Some people might consider a "six hour hunger strike" as "the time between lunch and dinner," but what do they know?

I love it.  This is classic Bangladesh politics: histrionic declarations of self-sacrifice/martyrdom matched only by tone-deaf self-absorption.  A six-hour hunger strike is like the bastard child of Gandhi and Marie Antoinette.

Does anyone know what happened to that guy who went on a hunger strike in India to end corruption?  I bet he starved to death.

Love,

Ellie’s friend

It was so funny that I decided I should send it on to my coworkers.  However, I work at a Christian organization and thus felt iffy about the email’s reception if it included the word bastard.  So, I decided to hit up my best-friend-at-work-website, thesaurus.com.

The best part was when a coworker walked up to ask me something, and this was definitely on my screen:

Thankfully it was a cool/young/hip coworker who wasn’t horribly offended by my depravity and we mostly just fell into a fit of muffled cubicle laughter.

Oh cubicles and the privacy from which you deprive us….

Christ-20!

The Jesus said to his disciples, "If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross and follow me..."

 The Gospel of Matthew, Chapter 16, verse 24 

Today and tomorrow I'm spending my workday at the Global Leadership Summit hosted by the Willow Creek Association.

When I told Charlie about it the conversation went something like this...

E: Oh, by the way, you don't have to drive me to work on Thursday and Friday.  I'm going to this 'Global Leadership Summit.'
C: What is that, like a G-20 Summit, but for non-profits?
E: No, it's actually like a Christian leadership conference.
C: Oh.  So it's like a Christ-20 Summit.
E: I'm totally calling it that now.

I've been highly skeptical of the whole ordeal - although I am intrigued by some of the speakers (Michelle Rhee, Howard Schultz included).

I think the crux of my skepticism lies in the title of the event.  Global Leadership Summit.  It's not just an issue I have with this summit.  I felt this frustration during the 'Teaching as Leadership' workshops with Teach for America and throughout college extracurriculars.  My criticism lies in our society's idolatry and obsession with leadership.

Leaders are placed on a pedestal.  Leadership courses pervade almost every professional development curriculum.  Leadership has been set as the watermark of achievement for most employees across the majority of work sectors.

Now, of course I don't think there's anything wrong with training good leaders.  I recognize the high value and importance of raising up strong management.  However, my bigger question is...

...what of the followers?  What of focusing on right living instead of taking command?

As mentioned, I am deeply appreciative of a sound, capable superior.  In spite of the leadership frenzy, I think the number of solid leaders are very few and far between in all aspects of society.  I also recognize that we all lead and all follow in different seasons, and that we are often in a position where following and leading run together concurrently in our roles in life.

However I think there's some level of sickness and perversion of reality and responsibility when we berate everyone with messages to 'lead' and encourage no one to 'follow responsibly.'  I think this distortion of focus permeates the Church, political system and society as a whole in our country.

What of the idea of a Global Follower Summit, instead?

Sign me up.

The Sankofa Bird's Implications

I am on my way

I am on my way

I am on my way back to where I started

I had the pleasure of attending Bonnaroo this year.  I’ve never been hugely into the ‘music scene,’ but have thoroughly enjoyed dipping my toes into the water over the past year or two.

One of my good friends led me to a favorite Bonnaroo discovery, which was ‘The Head and the Heart.’  Today, while embracing this new-found love, I was reflecting on the general theme of the folksy, nostalgic ‘Down in the Valley’ and found myself mentally withdrawing to a course in African American Religion with Professor Ivory.

I-Man (aka Professor Ivory) emphasized the theme of time in African American Religion, particularly the concept of time in which ‘We walk backwards into the future…’

This summer has been full of family visitors which unfurled conversations between Charlie and I on our past, our history and how it affects our future.  I’ve also been led to reflect on our pre-marital counseling, which was invaluable – mainly because we spent a huge amount of time talking about our family histories and the remnants from them which we carry into our future together.

I’m prone to agree with I-Man and resonate with the theme that we do always carry our past with us, and we’d be well-served to ‘keep an eye on it’ and be aware of how the traits of our parents, grandparents, sibilings and our formative experiences are constantly feeding into our perceptions of future encounters.

But what of the core concept in ‘Down in the Valley’?  Are we all just ‘on our way back to where we started?’  Is everything fully cyclical, or is there some breakaway from our past? 

Of course we’re not going to take the exact path as those in our past.  Families and individuals are always shifting and moving in different directions.  I’m inclined to believe, though, that we’re moving more in the direction of our past than we realize.  Of course the manifestation of ‘moving into our past’ could look at face value to be very different than that of our predecessors.  But, if we dig deep enough, I bet we’d find that we’re chasing things that are similar to/ (or perhaps completely different) than our family, but that’s very motivated by what we inherited from them.

Anyway, I’d definitely say you should listen to ‘Down in the Valley.’  The sweet melancholy, impeccable harmonies and nostalgic themes will linger in the back of your mind; if we share any similar musical taste you’ll be totally okay with it.

In the words of Spock/{I-Man} ‘Live long and prosper {SCHOLARS}!’

T-Shirt Fridays

I get to dress down at work on Fridays.  Previously I would just wear jeans with a professional-ish looking shirt, but ever since the AC at our work broke two weeks ago and people began showing up in shorts and tank tops (omg!) I have let any semblance of grown-up-job-ness fall completely to the wayside.

This is also due, in part, to the recent Threadless t-shirts I've purchased and subsequent lack of any good  place to wear said shirts out in public. (If I 'twittered' I would use the #needtogetasociallife qualifier here.)

If you haven't been to Threadless.com, you should.  The site is full of t-shirt designs submitted by artists and graphic design whiz kids.  You get to vote on your favorite designs and voila! they become a t-shirt you can buy.  If you wait long enough, you can generally get the shirts at $10 a pop.

Initially I bought them for Charlie.  But, he was having too much fun and I'm not a good sideline-player/shopper so...

Here are examples of the shirts they have.  My recent purchases:

If history repeats itself, I'm totally getting a dinosaur. 

House Brawl, which coincided with my birthday and the Harry Potter release, so I let Charlie birthday-gift me this away!

Charlie has this one -  Biblical Disaster

These are on my wish list:

Word!

Pessimistic or Optimistic?

Hit up Threadless - to make your casual Fridays exhilarating.  

Taking Stock

So it's been just a bit over six months since the birth of this blog and my (count it!) one post.

I figured since I had so many lofty ambitions at the start of the new year, I should assess my successes (and failures) at accomplishing the numerous, overzealous New Year's Resolutions.

Read 2 books each month - P
I've ticked off about half on the previous list, and added quite a few.  The biggest surprise was becoming engrossed in the Hunger Games Trilogy, which I highly recommend.


Eat at a new restaurant in Baltimore each month - O
Despite all my noble intentions, this just hasn't happened. I think I've eaten at 2-3 new places in Baltimore-proper since January, but there was very little calculation involved.  These outings were very much based on happenstance.


Save for new camera/get into photography - P & O
I got a Nikon D-5000 for my birthday!  But...I still haven't opened the box because I'm waiting to hear back about the IRS audit I'm involved in.  
(Yes, that happened this year.  When did I become old enough to be audited by the IRS?!  I thought that only happened to rich, old, greedy, white men.  But apparently not.)  Since the camera is still sitting in the box I clearly have yet to venture into the world of photography, but I dream about dashing home and ripping open the box whenever my mind wanders at work.  So, any day now and I'll be taking pictures like this!  

(Taken by Russ Barnes; from the BBC's weekly theme photo submission.  The theme here was 'wind.')


Run half-marathon and complete a sprint triathlon - P & O
I completed the Nashville half-marathon in May!  I also came to terms with the fact that I can't swim, so I've abandoned the sprint triathlon idea until I have a much bigger chunk of time to commit to improving my doggie-paddle.  Thus, I am substituting the sprint triathlon with another half-marathon, in Annapolis in November.  


Monthly date with husband - O
Epic fail.  We've probably gone out once a month, but it hasn't been intentional.  Plus, I'd have to count the midnight showing of Harry Potter (which works since we both love HP, but still...).


Judge less, pray more - ?
Who knows?  This one is hard to quantify, and it's hard to change the flaws that are so deeply embedded.  But, probably not... O


Cook/bake something new each month - P
We've had a lot of company + I generally do this anyway, so...


Write a letter to a friend/family member bi-monthly - OO
I haven't written a single, stinkin note.  Embarrassing.


So...overall?  


I think I bit off more than I can chew.  Typical.