Month: June 2006

  • yep, not going to work today.

  • work should have been cancelled today. if atlanta shuts down in the wake of a centimeter of snow, then i feel like dc should shut down in the wake of flooding. i found out today that the city was built on swamp land...no wonder maryland and virginia didn't mind giving the land up for the good of the rest of the nation. it took THREE HOURS to get to work this morning. i kidd you not. i think the entire city was late to work, except for those who didn't have to go to work due to massive flooding in their buildings (as was the case for one of my roommates).


    i love my work. honestly. i'll never understand, though, the unrivaled excitement i experience at the thought of work or classes being canceled. so that's my hope tonight -- rain rain, don't go away! i want to sleep in and have fun tomorrow!

  • work has begun. the most poignant thing right now is that my feet really hurt and my ankles are swollen like a pregnant woman. but that's only because present discomfort is so good at overshadowing everything else. i think that i am going to really like my work. i commute into the city everyday, just across the river from virginia. it takes over an hour to get to work, but i don't mind. i'm reading the feminine mystique, which is more interesting than i thought it would be. i wish i could appreciate how radical it once was. i am working under some incredible people with vast life experiences, and i hope to learn so much from them. i was immediately informed that this will not be an office in which i will be making copies and coffee; they intend to keep me very busy. my supervisor is very kind and very encouraging. he takes what little i feel i have to offer and trusts that i will be able to do great things with it. i am so excited about working on these reports, especially because i have used them for my own papers at wheaton, and now i have the chance to quote something with which i've helped! rach, he's very happy that i've been editing your papers; somehow, that makes me qualified to edit religious freedom reports. =] i am very tired, though, and happy to finally be settled in an office instead of trekking from metro to building to metro, filling out paperwork and working through the bureaucracy. i am going to sleep asap tonight, as in, by 9pm. i am also thrilled that germany one their game today, and can't wait to see them school sweden. just kidding, daniel...or am i???


    good night, world.

  • I've heard it said by peers who have also left places and people behind often in their lives that there comes a numbness after a while, a desensitivity to good-byes and pain and grief. I wish, sometimes, that that was my tendency. I have never been able to long ignore the pain of saying good-bye, and often I probably anticipate it way too far in advance. I wish I could possibly convey the thoughts and emotions of leaving home for the "final" time. So many have told me that it can't possibly be the last time; I don't really care. As far as being the home of my entire family, it's over. Maybe I'll return one day, but that's beside the point. If your family has ever uprooted from a dear home, you'll know the finality that I feel. At least I can be assured that, whenever I feel incapable of deep emotion, I have only to return to Germany and I will once more feel deeper than I ever could wish to feel.


    Thankfully, in the years since I graduated, the feelings have changed. I do feel more joy and less poignant grief; I am able to enjoy places for themselves, as opposed to just facing raw memories of what once was. Is it possible that that joy adds a new dimension to pain? Have you ever felt hurt by happiness? I guess it can't be described, only lived.


    So many new memories have been added to the old ones as well. Sonne, wildflower bouquets, campfires and smores, siedler von catan and zug um zug, running, stargazing, basel and bridges, lacoste, grad, kirchwasser ice cream, difficult e-mails, packing, crying, saying good-bye, leaving. It would almost be comforting to know that I am the only person in the world who experiences such things. That would legitimize prolonged grief and an innate resistance to moving on. But I can't. I must look forward to new hallways and new joys and new people. Some people naturally look towards the future with hope and excitement, always assuming it will be better than the past. I admit that I am not one of those people. It is a struggle to see a better future when the past has been so grand. I wish there was a switch inside of me that would change this part of me, but it remains a struggle and a battle.


    I've been given too much time to think, perhaps. I am just processing, and sharing only the tip of the iceberg of my thoughts and struggles. I'm not looking for comments, by the way. Please don't tell me that you know how I feel, because it's not true, and doubtless I have no idea how you feel, either. But I definitely applaud you if you actually reached the end of this terribly long post.