Wednesday, March 31, 2010

When David has the camera

"Here, take my picture!"
"Thanks, I'll take the camera back."
"Wow, you're really close."
15 pics later..."Okay, that's good."
10 pics later..."No, you're done. Give me the camera. Now."

Old friends

(Kyle- Sorry I have no pics to prove you were here too!)

Meg and Kyle (and Baby!) visited during my spring break, and we had an amazing few days of exploring DC, wandering throughout Baltimore, talking and talking and talking, and playing an addicting dice game called Farkle. We love these people.

I got to feel the baby move in her tummy and tell him that I love him. Has it really been 15 years since Meg and I were 5th graders? Since the days when we played 6 square during recess and had slumber parties on a trampoline? Since we talked about what it would be like to be married and have kids in the distant, distant future?

Wednesday, March 24, 2010

Like heart-longings

Ah! it is not for you to open the bud into a blossom.
He who can open the bud does it so simply.
He gives it a glance, and the life-sap stirs through its veins.
At his breath the flower spreads its wings and flutters in the wind.
Colours flush out like heart-longings,
The perfume betrays a sweet secret.
He who can open the bud does it so simply.
Fruit-Gathering, Rabindranath Tagore

Friday, March 19, 2010

3/4 done with school (what?!)

(I came home from my biostats final to 3/4 cupcakes from David. I love him.)

I'm done with my third quarter of school, which means only one more until we're out in the real world. This might be the fastest year of my life.

In June, we'll move to Sierra Leone to work with CRS, but not before driving cross-country, visiting family and friends in California, and celebrating at my sister Erin's wedding (yay!). Excited, nervous, expectant, hopeful. All of those things. But, for now I will eat cupcakes and be thankful that I made it through another quarter, I am learning, and the sun is shining in Baltimore.

Sunday, March 14, 2010

Cohort birthdays!

(Christine's precious internship-themed cupcakes. Africa, elephant, suitcase, giraffe.)

Friday, March 12, 2010


Last night I dreamt about my sister Kristin. I haven't done this since a few months after she died. We were running around a house together, dancing and laughing. We went to a hallway and she taught me some steps from a line dance. She was healthy and full of life.

I wandered over to the bedroom from my childhood and everything in it was gone. Kristin had stuffed it all into my closet. When I opened the closet door, I found all of my things and a pair of gold heels that I love. I was relieved to know it was all still there, just moved to a different place.

When I woke, I wasn't sad. The dream didn't seem at all out of the ordinary. Maybe God was using it to remind me that Kristin is like those things in my closet, still here but in a different place.

Monday, March 8, 2010

Spring has sprung!

(The basilica down the street.)

I have been wanting to make the proclamation but I was too scared I would jinx it. Here goes nothing...

Spring has sprung!

The air is warmer and the streets are almost completely free of snow! Please let this be the beginning of a transformation to a warmer time. A time of blossoms and green grass and bare arms. I loved the snow storms, but their time has passed. Oh, how this winter has made me long for spring.

Thursday, March 4, 2010

Absurd: illogical, inappropriate, unreasonable

In class I noticed I had a few missed calls and a voicemail from David. I was worried, so I wrote him, "Hey, I'm in class."

He responded, "What's a substitute for enchilada sauce?"

How absurd is that?

Monday, March 1, 2010

Our neighbor

There is a man who lives in a tent on the grassy median around the corner from our house. Sometimes his tent is there, and sometimes it disappears and I wonder if it had been there at all. I've seen him sweep the area clean while cars zoom past on either side. I've seen the tent illuminated in the darkness and I've seen the empty patch of ground where it used to stand. It seems the most unlikely place for a home, even an occasional one.

The first time I saw him, he stood perfectly still as I passed on the other side of the street. His face was dark and half covered with a rag to stave off the wind. I stared, trying to figure out why he was there and what he was doing. It took me a while to realize he was staring at me too. He watched me watch him- did he feel judged or pitied or scorned?

When the tent is gone, I wonder where he went.