The First Squirrel of Autumn

On my jog today I spotted my first Virginia squirrel of the season, and he looked like this guy. He was black, not brown. I was quite delighted, though the one I saw didn't have the Don King coiffure going on. It's officially fall now!

Las uvas de Barboursville...

UVA

Last weekend Paul and I had the privilege of visiting our friends Matt and Janna in Charlottesville. Matt and Janna, being Charlottesvillians for 5 years now, gave us a smashing tour of the University of Virginia (complete with statue of Thomas Jefferson wearing a beer can on his head), the private (ooh!) and public gardens, and the hip and savvy downtown Charlottesville (including the great glass elevator!). To top it off, we ate at the local hangout--Bodo's Bagels. Academical!

They even took us to their church and to the Barboursville Winery (which closed promptly after we arrived, but I still got some great photos!). That's okay--we needed to be sober for the drive back to D.C. anyway...

Last Day

Well, tomorrow is the last day at AED. The project hasn't gone according to plan so they've given me the boot (as in, they don't have enough work for me to do). It's a bit of a shock since I thought I'd have this job until December...looks like it's back to "waiting for the call."

In all regards, doing temp. work isn't bad at all. It's just that I got used to my routine and enjoyed coming here. And it's silly that I should feel this anxious about a little uncertainty, but I do. I feel so...helpless here. I've never had to live this much from day to day, which isn't a bad thing, but it feels funny.

And I don't like to feel funny.

I had a hard time on the train this morning. One of my voices (the loudest one) kept making comments that started out like this "You know, if we were still in Chicago...". Dangerous. I miss my dear sweet Chicago badly. But if not kept in check, I have a tendency to over-glorify it, and demonize D.C.

But loneliness recognizes only familiar alliances.

I've Had it With Condoms

No really, I have. Here at AED I catalogue development research, and for the past two weeks I've been documenting very old AIDSCOM reports, whose primary focus has been on how to educate and market contraceptives (read: condoms) in third world countries. From the workplace to the bush; from professionals to street children; from plays to videos to t-shirts and everything in between. I'm an unofficial expert on attitudes, practice, and beliefs concerning this popular (but not in TWC) contraceptive (well, I would have been an expert 15 years ago when the research was still fresh, that is).

I'm not up to date on the current statistics, but I wonder what the success rate is these days of condoms in combatting AIDS and STDs in the developing world. I know that there's a lot of miseducation out there regarding the dangers of sex. I've heard various reports on the effectiveness of abstinence-based programs here in the U.S., but I'm not sure about those in other countries.

Though it's been interesting and encouraging to read about how each well-intentioned project reaches its community by really studying its subjects and providing a sustainable system based on their findings, I still can't believe that the only answer to AIDS is condoms. No matter how you package them (no pun intended)! I of course am dipping into a complex issue here, for the AIDS issue hasn't only to do with sex, but rather with poverty, education, economics, health, etc.

Anyone who has more current ideas or information on this issue, please give a shout out.

Betty Betrayed Me

So I got this great Bridal Edition Betty Crocker cookbook at one of my showers, and I decided to dust it off and try something--fried chicken. Except I didn't have boned-in chicken--I had boneless skinless chicken thighs. Everything was going well until there was smoke filling the kitchen and the smoke alarm began its piercing beep...

...but that wasn't because I was burning the chicken. I was actually burning the grease lingering in the broiler on top of the foil that I never removed after making hamburgers. I keep forgetting! One of these days it will be my undoing.

So, after hours of scouring the broiler tray and fiddling with this silly chicken, I'm pooped. I'm gonna get my pajamas on now.

P.S. I don't like chicken thighs--the meat is all different colors and there's still ribbons of fat everywhere (before I cooked it, I mean :)

Many Places Like Home

For those of you who don't know, I recently married my best friend Paul this past July. We met and dated in Chicago (where I'd been living the past 4 years) and spent our engagement across the miles (he in DC studying at GWU for his Masters in Public Policy). It was a really tough year being apart, and I was glad to see it end this summer.

Now we live in Arlington, VA, a 10-minute commute from DC. I've been here for almost 2 months now and it's been/continues to be a difficult transition for me. This is the first time I've lived away from friends and family before. As I intially grew uneasy with the discomfort, I endeavored on my own to make the discomfort disappear, assuring myself that if I just got involved enough in my community and at church that it would more or less instantly grant me friends and a sense of belonging. When that didn't happen (and I was still unemployed after a month), I began to bang my head against the wall of our bedroom wall. My loving husband sat on the bed with me or just held me in his arms and let me sob, hugging me close, on the over half dozen nights when the loneliness took over my heart. In his wisdom (having done this move a year ago himself), he advised that I "let it be", and allow the discomfort its place in my life and grow accustomed to it, instead of seeking to dissolve it.

It's a sign of God's grace now the things in my new world that are reminding me of my old one. For instance, the stop I get off of (Dupont Circle) to head to work at AED is a lot like the Belmont stop on the red line in Chicago--there's trendy restaurants, en mode clothing stores, and several gay-friendly establishments. Having spent a lot of time on Belmont and Halsted during my Emmaus outreach days, this was especially nostalgic for me. Oakton St., one street west of ours, is a spot where I like to start out my jogs through the neighborhood. It's lined with little A-framed homes that are well-manicured and groomed with white and purple mums, ivy-lined trees, and signs of children. It reminds me of my good years in northern Wheaton, where I grew up on Countryside Drive. Just off that street is my new "quiet/naturey/peaceful place to go when I'm confused or things don't make sense"--Colombia Gardens Memorial Cemetery. For those of you who know me well, you know how I feel about cemeteries :) In Chicago this place was the lake at Wilson Beach and at Loyola University. And last night Paul and I dined out Persian style, and the Chicken Tika, nan, and samosas immediately stirred up memories of Devon and Rogers Park.

This grace is even evident at our new parish, St. Charles of Borromeo. Though the style of the liturgy is more contemporary and the congregation is considerably larger, the mass is always the same. The parishioners are active in their community (much like St. Thomas) as is the priest, Fr. Gerry Creedon (who has a delightful Irish accent, btw).

I'm being humbled by glimpses of home I see daily. And even though sometimes I'd do anything to get back to the sense of confidence and independence I felt in Chicago, I believe that God will uniquely use this challenging time to refine me and remind me of my need of Him.

This is a strange place, indeed. People walk the streets and trains in fatigues. Helicopters routinely fly overhead. Everyone wears suits all the time. The humidity is unbearable sometimes. But God shows up here, too, even when I have trouble seeing him. He shows up in the most unlikely places, and routinely in my husband, Paul.

Ah, the rolling hills of Prince Edward Island... 

Saludos. After much consideration, I've decided to plunge into the blogosphere. Many thanks to Matt, Tom, Meg, Marie, Sara, and Traci for making it look so appealing. Now that life has changed course a bit (from Chicago to D.C.) there are new discoveries to be made.

Every night as I leave from my job and walk toward the Metro, I see interesting people. I don't know if the area has something to do with it, but there are a lot of psychics and palm readers around here. Perhaps in the Capital there are bound to be various forms of intelligence (information) found. Anyway, there are usually several homeless people sitting atop plastic crates asking for change and watching the passersby. Well, today there was a man seated on the sidewalk with a sign that read "Advice" and in parenthesis underneath "Not licensed to give medical advice" and "Inquire about fee".

Certainly more clever than most, but I didn't see many people taking his ad seriously.

What caught more attention was the man at the crosswalk yesterday shouting "I'm homeless and I need a sandwich...Spare some change...I LOVE WHITE PEOPLE!"

Welcome to the District of Colombia, folks.