This could be a deep one...

Location: my WMU desk. Fresh, post-lunch cup of coffee (but my only one of the day) at my left hand, white and pink flowered trees waving to me through the open blinds (a window makes a cubicle much less of a sad thing).
Time: 1:38 p.m.
State of Mind: contemplative. Hence the depth.
People within 20 yards: neighbors to my cubby, Dianna and Carole, who work for the language-focused materials and are frequently speaking on the phone in Spanish; and Leah, my editor and friend.
Last time I saw an ugly baby: ridiculous question, but it reminds me of a story I’ve frequently heard about keith when he was younger. It goes something like this: his mom has a dear friend over for coffee to meet her newly born baby for the first time. Little Keith, then called Beeper, peeks over the edge of the stroller and takes a look. He raises his head and remarks, “Lady, I hate to break it to you, but your baby looks like a monkey.”

So. I’ve had a little bit of a time-management problem at work lately. But not in the way you might think. I have too much time. I tend to finish things rather quickly, which may mean that I’m not being thorough enough, but honestly I don’t really know how to do it differently, and I fear my brain might explode if I just try to edit things over and over again for the sake of thoroughality. My hours go by a little bit like this: check work email. Respond. Check gmail. Respond. Check google reader. Read. Check work email. Hark! Something needs my editing expertise! Print. Edit with pen (my favorite! Oh the red marks are glorious). Make changes in document. Save. Back to gmail, and the cycle continues. What I’m getting at is this: well, it’s a few things actually. One, is that I’ve been reading a lot of blogs lately. Blogs are funny. They are a selective glimpse into people’s lives. And people probably only bother to blog about things that are cool and exciting. But the result is that it makes everyone else’s lives look cool and exciting. Just today, peeking into other people’s lives I’ve dreamt of becoming a photo-journalist (even for a local paper), moving to any number of fascinating cities and countries, working for a

(pause…a button for a website needs my copy editing …11 words in length…big job folks.)

47 seconds later. The big question is: Will I ever be truly content? And, am I the only person who feels this way? It just seems like there are different venues for our discontentment, for mine, they change in seasons, but that tugging, nagging feeling…does it ever go away? Is there this magical place where I will someday live, doing something magical, surrounded by magical people, where I will never long for something else ever again? And would I even want that? I mean, how many years did I spend focusing that discontentment on the prospect of finding my media naranja. (the Spanish term for soul-mate that I much prefer…it means half-orange). Now I have found him. I love him, and I’m SO thankful for the incredible peace and contentment that has flooded that little nook in my heart. What fulfilling companionship! But it doesn’t change that part of me that looks ahead and plans and longs and dreams.

I guess one thing I could learn from all this pondering is that if finding “the one” didn’t make me magically and completely fulfilled, then finding the perfect job or place to live or calling probably won’t either, right? And when I say that I’m discontent, please don’t hear that I’m sad. I’m not. I’m very very happy and I love life in Birmingham right now. I just can’t help but look forward to more. I want to really “make a difference” as cliché as that sounds, and I want to really spend all of my time in the nitty-gritty place where humanity, and community, and creativity, and justice, and love meet. now why isn't there a google map for that place?

At my core, I trust that God treasures these desires in my heart, and He is the one who will fulfill them. I just don’t know if it will be in this flesh-laden lifetime or not.

Jet-lagged with a Runny Nose.

location: my/Emily's living room
time of day: 8:17 am
state of mind: nostalgic
people within 20 yards: A sleeping Emily
last time you saw an ugly baby: Can't recall, I feel like I had a dream about one.
the book that you're currently reading and enjoying: Spiritual Depression (Martyn Lloyd Jones)...so good...really, very encouraging

So, Matt and I just returned from our trip to N. Ireland to visit the UCF peeps. It was awesome. We saw all the sights, celebrated St. Patrick's day where everyone should really, got to meet and play with some Irish kids, and really enjoyed hanging out with Erin, Dwight, John and Elizabeth. For more details see my facebook photo album obviosly entitled "Ireland"...or call me!

Now, for the meat of this post. In hopes of finding a different word document this morning, I stumbled across a short story I wrote last year about an experience I had with Jen. I believe the story was forwarded to some of you. It may have been disregarded then, and may be for a second time, due to its' length. I thought I'd post it because it makes me laugh, weep, and recall fond memories from senior year and the quirks of all our friendships. The length of this post I believe is appropriate seeing as I haven't posted in 1/20th of a decade. Enjoy.

The Night I Stood On Jen

A Short Story by Jamie Simpson

I was on Facebook looking at photos of Brian Cook when Jen Wilmore walked into my office and I hurriedly closed out of the web-page. She said, "Oh, no…you don't have to…" and I said, "Nonsense! I do." We made small talk for a matter of 13 minutes about what books caught her eyes on my bookshelf. Thoughts raced through my mind, like how it'd be such a great idea if I opened up my little built-in to the entire campus and allowed students of all shapes and sizes to filter in and out of my little office, perusing and borrowing any book that met their fancy…then I thought about the liability of it all…then Jen spoke and my little day-dream (well it was actually night, but you see I wasn't asleep and the sun had long set, so…I guess just dream…) was shattered in a thousand necessary pieces because we were, after all, in mid conversation. So I answered some questions and then fired back with a few. I think…if my memory recalls, there was a lull, a lull that provided me with just enough time to step up into the seat of the chair I had just been sitting in. I then felt the need to explain myself so I said: "I like standing on tall things." Jen, previously face to face with the caps of my knees cocked her head back expectedly and suggested I stand on her…I guess her reason being that if I like tall things so much…might as well try her since she clears the seat of the chair by a good 4 feet. Now, here's my confession, I was a little reluctant. When I indicated to my dear friend that I am fond of standing on tall things…I meant sturdy four…sometimes 3 legged things. So, I may have bit my bottom lip (memory fails me) and nodded in what Jen probably thought was mutual consent. Here's the thing, when I asked her how I should go about in participating in her being stood on, she just sort of barked, "Stand on me!" Uhm, so I tried it. I palmed Jen's head with my left hand and gripped the top shelf of my built-in with my right hand and sort of hoisted myself (meaning my left leg) onto her shoulder. I next shifted some of my weight to this left leg of mine and locked my knee a bit, but certainly not all the way, just enough to let her think I had done it.
I don't know how, but she caught me red-handed. She, in a gentler voice this time, asked if I would place all of my weight on her shoulder and actually stand on her. I, a little more confident this time, replied that I would, but only as a result of her being so unusually adamant…it's the type of thing where someone's got this really bad idea, and you know it right off, but they are just so darn persuasive that they end up flipping the tables and then you end up feeling silly for not having come up with the idea yourself. Before agreeing for the second time, I asked her to quickly brief me on the idea behind the brilliance…a sort of mission statement as to why we were executing the whole endeavor. She replied that it's clearly only to be done to say we did it. Her being so clear cut and all, I just went for it. I lifted with my arms and pushed with my legs. I was up…seeing things from a new perspective…legs almost locked…




Jen died.

Unimportant ramblings

Location: The office of the SOS bulding.

Time 1:18 PM

State of Mind: Furious  Anger at the Samford Portal

People: I'm all alone.

Ugly Baby: My boss's baby puked on him that was ugly, but she isn't inherently ugly so I'm not sure if it counts.

Dead Cat: I think last tuesday maybe.

So yesterday i decided to drive across the city to go to the apple store to buy an ipod shuffle with the money the easter bunny brought me early( because my parents are in Birmingham at the NCAA tournament and decided to cancel my easter. Anyways turns out will was there too it was the most awesome suprise I've had in a long time, he was in town for easter , so we went and saw our friend play last night. 

So life has been goin alright for me, the day after I got back from Ethiopia, I began spring break camps, and we now have just one more week left. Its been going well except for stepping on a nail, but no worries i got a brand new tdap shot for it. Its really been nuts, contrary to popular belief I have very little idea of what i'm doing, so my boss inevitable has to draw out a diagram of how to run new water lines, or how to hang kitchen cabinets on a napkin during breakfeast and then I have to go out to my site and try to convince my campers that I have done these things hundreds of times before. But , i love it here, its really never boring. I work with some amazing people. Anyways my point in this post is to at some point answer the question of what I am goin to do next year. Well, SOS has asked me to intern with them again, and to help them start up a smaller version of their camp in another neighborhood (Orange Mound) which has no real ministry in it at all. I'm really stoked to get in on this ministry in the beginning, the only problem is that it is not a paying position so I will be raising all my support for the year again, so I need ya'l just to pray that God will provide for me again like he did for this year, and that when I make decisions I will be thinking about what God's will is for me and not what my own is.

updates from macro world of microscopic labwork

yesterday, i found out that james (of "mistuh blian" fame) also mispronounces another lab member's name. james is thoroughly convinced that Nachiket, one of the post-docs from India, is named "lunchbox." we've tried to correct him. he won't budge.

i don't mind this for two reasons. first, it's funny as crap. no doubt about that. who's with me? but second, and more importantly, Nachiket and Arjun (the other post-doc from India) saw me today and asked how my trip home went. Immediately following my response, they asked what I brought them. I laughed. They maintained straight faces. I paused, and laughed more awkwardly. They did not pause, and kept the straight faces. "Wait, really?" I asked... completely confused. Nachiket then explained the age-old custom in India of always bringing your friends something from even the shortest trip... and asked if I didn't yet regard him and Arjun as friends. I stuttered and stammered- I'm sure that I was all at once as hard for them to understand as they often are for me to understand. After they left, Dr. Javed and Haiyan (mother of james) verified what Nachiket had taught me.

This went on for 2 hours, until I walked into the conference room for the weekly lab meeting, sat to watch the PowerPoint presentation, and lo and behold-- the second slide had no data... simply the phrase "We Got You!" in some tacky font.

I inquired if it was a big deal to be flipped off in India, China, or Pakistan. They said yes... but laughed.

This is my life-- foreign nerds with remarkable minds prank me. Kindof rocks. :-)

Obligatory Update

Please forgive me for posting twice in a row. It's 6:45 AM and I've already had two cups of coffee. I have nothing else to do.

Location: Matt's and Park's room in Warden's house.
Time: 6:45 AM
State of mind: fuzzy
People within 20 feet: Aaron Hutchens, asleep in the next room
Last time you saw and ugly baby: Last Wednesday. They're all very ugly for the first month or so.
Last time you saw a dead cat: two days ago, on the sidewalk in Southside. Its head was still intact, making a growling face. Its body was melting in to the sidewalk.

I've delayed in posting the requested update because Sarah and I broke up and I didn't really know how to comment on the situation in an appropriate way for such an impersonal medium. I still don't. But you can call me if you want details.

In other news, I got hired on full-time at my job. So now I get paid a little more and I have health insurance. I still color. Lately there hasn't been much work so I've done nothing.

Aaron replaced my old roommate who moved on to greater things. Aaron likes to take his shirt off when we have company over.

I'm excited I get to see alot of you at Keith and Elaine's wedding.

4th Annual "Jesus On the Radio" celebration!

Most of you are unaware that Matt, Parks, John, Josh, and I have woken up every March 16th since sophomore year to drive to Waffle House in Vestavia in celebration of "Jesus on the Radio," a wonderfully upbeat Guster song involving lots of banjo. Here are the words:

5 a.m., March 16
Jesus on the radio
You took a photograph of me
on your yellow bucket seat
Its too high, its too wide
You're so low you don't know
To get through, to go around

So don't look back
There ain't nothing there to see
Was once like you
Can't say I recognize that face
in that picture that you keep
Its too high, its too wide
You're so low you don't know
To get through, to go around
To get through, to go around

The lyrics should explain the date and time for this tradition. The explanation for Waffle House is simple: what else can you do at 5 AM?

This year was a little different: Matt and John are in Ireland, Josh is in North Carolina, and Parks is MIA, so I celebrated by myself. Waking up at 4:45 AM, I jumped in the car, turned the song on repeat, and drove to Vestavia, singing at the top of my lungs. Breakfast sucked and service was terrible, but that's all part of the experience. Then I returned (music: on, singing: loud) to hear the final 7 of 13 total repetitions of our celebrated song.

Now, one could argue that this anecdote is a reason for sadness, since I had to celebrate a tradition by myself. But, I argue that each March 16th has found me in a new and exciting place in life. For each, I may not have been excited about where I was at the time, but God gracefully continued working in new ways. Here's a recap:

Sophomore year, March 16th, 2005: Things kind of sucked! I was frustrated with girls, I was in the middle of my hardest semester, and Dr. Holloway was trying to kill my faith (well, not really).
March 16th, 2006, Junior Year: Things are pretty good! I'm in the middle of a very thoughtful, intellectually active semester. I've been reading Wendell Berry essays, and I'm becoming friends with Kristen. Immediately after breakfast, we go distribute the second issue of the Headless Platform.
March 16th, 2007: I didn't know it, but I had the single best time of college ahead of me. Roughly twelve hours after breakfast, we left for Spring Break. Roughly 24 hours after breakfast I actually got to sleep again.

Now, the irony here is that the celebration disproves the meaning of the song. "So don't look back; there ain't nothing there to see." We celebrate because we can and should look back.

This post has been very sappy. But cut me some slack. Things seem tough right now, and I need some cheer. Who knows what the next year holds?

MISSING: One Renal Cyst

Time: 10:18 a.m., PST
Place: the trundle bed my family rolls into my room when i come home since my real bed is suffering under the weight of my brother's roommate in los angeles. i'm not overlooking a lake in africa... but my window looks out over o'neill regional park and the foothills of the saddleback mountains (note: the church is named after the mountains/region, not vice versa)
Book(s): The Golden Compass (finally finishing it), Ender's Game (finally starting it), The Cell: A Molecular Approach (recommended by my P.I. as "a good book to thumb through in your free time this semester")
Ugly babies abound, i'm sure... but the sneaky little buggers somehow manage to stay out of my line of sight.

First things first- wow, Thirty Travelers... you're really booming lately, what with all the new posts and now the return to the original format. Way to step up.

But what i really need to know is... where is my cyst? For those of you who remember that I have kidney issues, well-- the 4-inch cyst on my kidney is gone. They did an ultrasound to check up on him (Jamie likes to envision the cyst as a friend that my kidney spawned out of loneliness, so i'll be using personal pronouns for it, er um... him). The ultrasound tech looked at me and completely serious asked, "Have you had any work done?" What the heck kind of question is that? Like botox, or what? I told her no, she asked if i was sure i hadn't had surgery since last time... again, what the heck. "Oh come to think of it, that one time when a doctor cut me open and took out half my kidney-- yeah, slipped my mind. My b, lady." So I went to the urologist to discuss the test results, where I got at least 30 minutes worth of very passionate ramblings about how confusing it was, and how he'd never seen a guy (the cyst) that size just go away, and one more time for good measure-- he asked if i was certain i hadn't had surgery. good grief. As a follow up, he requested a cat scan... which i had yesterday.

The cat scan took forever. for-eh-ver. not the scan itself, but the lying on the table waiting for the ct tech to come in afterwards. twenty minutes after the scan, he (the tech, not the cyst) came in and asked-- everyone together now-- if i'd had surgery to remove him (the cyst, not the tech)... because after twenty minutes of searching the scans, he couldn't find him (i hope the pronouns aren't getting muddled... blame Jamie).

So it turns out he is gone... the cyst... my kidney's lone friend. I've gotta admit that I'm sorry to see him go-- mainly because Jamie has me feeling really bad about how lonely my kidney must be down there. The upside? I won't have to worry about inaccurate punches from Cheese or random, hyperenergetic attacks from Matt or Aaron landing a solid blow on my kidney and rupturing a cyst, leaving me writhing in pain on the floor during that ever-awkward moment of "oh crap, the fun just went too far."

But if you see him (the cyst, not the tech or doctor or cheese or matt or aaron)... let me know.

woot woot (one for me, one in memory of the little guy who's gone)
-brian

WARNING: Barb ORear found in Vestavia

Time: 10:22 AM
Location: Vestavia West Elementary Music Room
Book: Stuff for school
No ugly babies…just about 86 little 6-7year old kids in the room with me right now

Let me just start out by saying I have spent about an hour and a half getting caught up on blog reading and I absolutely loved hearing about whats been going on lately. Kris, I cant believe the crazy events that happen in your life. 20 dead camels on the side of the road? That’s the freakest thing Ive ever heard. Ryan actually told me about the storey first. He has to be your biggest blog fan. The day you post, I get a recap at dinner about it.

Life has been good. You probably notice I don’t say much about it because I don’t want to bore you with Samford 5th year poo. This week I finish up teaching at this K-3rd school, and after SB I will be at Pizitz Middle. This weekend I take the Praxis Test which is the final test I take to get my Teachers License.

I cant tell if Im cut out to work with these type of young kiddies. I make mistakes constantly everyday which hopefully wont scar kids for life. The other day someone tattled on someone else for holding up their middle finger. Without thinking I pulled the kid over and said, “dude, don’t flip birds at people.” Immediately the kid was like, “What’s flipping a bird?”. So I explained…so hopefully the 7 year old went home and told his parents what he learned in PE today.

Also, there is this girl that I swear looks like Barb ORear. I never met Barb but Im guessing she acts like her too. There is a bathroom right outside the gym, and one time I heard her in there screaming bloody murder because there was not toilet paper. On Mondays we do this thing where I play music and kids run around the gym for their warm-up. This past Monday, I played that country song “Life is A Highway” and Barb came up, got right in my face and sang the whole song. I made it a point to not make eye contact but she still kept going. She wears this annoying pink headband and whenever we do running activities, she puts the stupid thing over her eyes and runs full force into things.

Anyway, you are probably wondering why I am writing during the middle of the day while I have kids in my presence. This week we are kicked out of the gym and cant use the outdoor facilities for some silly reason. Therefore, we are all crammed in the music room watching “Hey Author”. For me, that means sitting around all day on the internet. I think this phys ed job is making me fatter. Student teaching so far has been alright. There is a lot of stuff I see not so good about their pe program here but it is one of those things where I can tell once I get my own school and get to make up my own program, I will love what I do.

David Bailey this is for you

Post from Kristen:

I got to hang out with Cheese in Ethiopia (note the spelling). No big deal. But it was awesome. He adapted amazingly fast. By the time he left, he was quite habesha-ed out. I'm proud of the kid.

So I've really enjoyed reading everyone's life updates. It's a beautiful thing, however I feel like we've really strayed from the roots of 30-travs. Thus, I will do everything I can to get us back on course. Time: 1:51pm Location: Bahir Dar, Ethiopia overlooking Tana Lake. There is a pleasant breeze and it's lovely today. There are no ugly babies in Ethiopia.

That taken care of: Matt- I can't believe the Trooper is gone. That's kinda devastating for some reason. Keith! I'm reading life of Pi right now too! I'm just at the part where we talk about zoos a lot, so you've really ruined the rest of the book for me. But I thought your post was delightful. Elaine! The preposition thing changes everything. You have no idea how many times my mom would correct sentence endings in my papers and I would insist that it was an antiquated rule. Thank you for vindicating me. Howes! Count me in for dinner at your house. What are we having? Candis- wow. Incredible. Aaron, no matter what Matt says about you, you're still my favorite person in the world. And does anyone know what happened to Eric and Emily? Someone should check on them. They could be dead.

Umm… not much going on lately. I went through I mid-peace corps crisis shortly after Cheese abandoned me here but I seem to be pulling through nicely. Work has been busy and I've really started diversifying my after work exploring. I found a route that leads to a village and my latest goal is to become friends with the natives. The oldest man in the village has already invited me to coffee, so I feel like I'm making progress. I think he's at least 100 years old. Or he just doesn't age well.

In other news, I think we should all do something fun for new years this year. Nothing like planning ahead. Keith said he would arrange it, so maybe ask him for details? David, thank you for your encouragement. Being chastised by you was a little hard to handle, but I think I'm a stronger person now for it. I hope this lives up to your expectations. Miss you guys!

Once Upon a Michael Scott...

The night after the majestic frosting of the Magic City, merely hours after Ryan stole the sweet, naïve hearts of two Swedish girls newly arrived to America, Warden, Keith, Elaine, and I tramped over to Jonathan Benton Bookseller in the Brook to watch the Triceratops perform for the umpteenth time. Tonight, however, was to be of a different sort- The Triceratops were backing a band called These United States, a brave bunch who were on a tour of thirty-three cities, using a different accompanying band at every stop.

They were quite enjoyable; unfortunately, the Triceratops were mediocre. Thankfully, that’s not the story… No, no… our memorable tale begins when the lead singer of These United States, a decidedly-clever, Sam-Beam-beard-sporting fellow comically & rhetorically remarked, after Stewart Vann & the TUS guitarist switched instruments yet again, “Can anyone else play anything? You should play with us” or something of the like.

In a nanosecond, a pale kid with a poof head shot up and emphatically pointed towards his friend declaring, “Oh, THIS guy is!” A hardly-sheepish high schooler in an over-sized army jacket and goofy hat “graciously” acknowledged the comment and rose to the occasion. The lead singer made a few comments about how terribly set-up this must all seem & swore that he had never before met the strange child standing before him, who claimed to be an exceptional “clapper.”

So the jolly misfit clapped and clapped until a lightning bolt struck his awkward brain and he stole behind the drum set and asked permission to throw down on the sleigh bells. The song reached its beautiful conclusion… but our valiant hero was far from finished. In fact, he disappeared behind the band in between songs only to re-emerge with two solid footstools- one to sit on and the other to beat as a drum. We winced. Keith, barely able to watch, commented that the kid reminded him of “Michael Scott”- in other words, blissfully unaware that he was painfully awkward. Captain Uncomfortable swallowed the end of the next song with his footstool/djimbae roll. And I almost forgot to mention that his friend, mushroom-head himself, was feverishly documenting the most spectacular scene of his companion’s undeniably graceless life frame by frame. It hurt to witness.

In other news, I tried to make fun of Will applying to the NPR post by informing him that a radio playlist had to include more than four and a half bands, but he quickly quipped that tithing was supposed to be about giving ten percent of your money, not your ministry time. Well played, sir. Also, in three days, Jamie Leigh Simpson and I will ride the Spirit of St. Louis to The Beloved Country. Erin & I will be spending St. Patrick’s Day in Dublin. Don’t worry, I’ll drown your jealously for you… with Guinness… in a truly Irish Pub.

Lastly, (DISCLAIMER: MISTUH BLIAN WEED DIS) I took the job with Campus Outreach. I’m guaranteed to be in Birmingham through the end of 2008, but I’m not sure precisely where I’m headed after that. God-willing, I’ll stick in the ‘Ham. Keep up the good posting.

snow.day.satur.day.

delightful.

feeling compelled by the trend set by you other media-savvy bloggers, i give you this glorious photograph. i'm sure many of you have asked umpteen times, "now what would a travel guru such as rick steves tell me to do in this hairy predicament?" well, in future such circumstances you can look no further than yours truly for two reasons.

1) i met the guy. and given my astonishing ability to glean all of a person's wisdom and experience from sharing a few casual words, i'd say it's only a matter of time before aaron convinces his tv station that they should quit doing news and give me my own show. i mean, it's all entertainment anyway, right?
(mr. steves did a couple events for Bread this week. he supports our work, and i really think i could listen to him talk about ethnocentric americans and cheese for days on end.)

2) even if my powers of extraction have (doubtedly) failed, i may soon have the opportunity to become a travel guru in my own right. this summer i have the amazing opportunity to go on a semi-around-the-world trip to 5 foreign countries on 3 continents in 6 weeks!! it's gonna be crazy. crazy incredible! AND i will hopefully get to SEE KRISTEN!!!!! that's right - we'll be spending 2 whole weeks in ethiopia!! ahhh i can't even imagine it! so the whole trip will be romania, ethiopia, uganda, nyc, haiti, mexico...and then birmingham. late june-august 10.
so i wanted you all to know. the trip is focused on poverty (the millennium development goals, specifically) and is being organized by the same group (cbf) that is sponsoring my internship at Bread. we'll be meeting up with their missions personnel at each location. i'm pumped.
i'd also like to thank ryan for his inspiring advise in his last post and am already contemplating ways i can apply it to this trip. i'm excited about trying to laugh in all these different languages when i fall down, but i worry about knocking people down as i go for what i want. i think rick steves would frown upon it.

i love this blog. i love you all, and i sincerely miss you.

.

Ha ha ha, bang bang (while waving gun hands in the style of a wild cowboy with a mix of Shooter McGavin)! This is a story of the feathery floating feeling of being on spring break. Upon rocking four tests this week and finishing the first half of my first semester in PT school, there is a great feeling of doable…ness. I didn’t know what it would look like, but I am actually enjoying the road to my degree, not just getting through. I leaned to a friend last week during lecture and said “isn’t it great we get to listen to lectures on muscular pathologies? I mean, what if we had to be suffering through differential equations? (no offense mistuh blian)”. He thought I was kidding, but I wasn’t. I wasn’t. I smile at the glimpse of the joy that has had a tendency to fall asleep in years past; David, I wade with you.

So we took a physical therapy retreat for a couple days last week. Yes, a graduate school retreat, complete with team building exercises and the creation of flags that represent our “culture”. I found out during the flag presentations that I AM a minority as I didn’t have a large “roll tide” logo and obligatory cross in the middle of my poster. During this retreat, I was telling my Jamaican friend Camille about a swinging bridge over the river we should check out. She urged me to take her on a date there after our lunch. All in all, it was a very relaxed and fun date, we connected on levels never dreamed of on a first date. When we got back to the main cabin our friends inquired about our whereabouts accompanied with inter-race dating jokes such as “once you go black you never go back”. She stood by my side with a sense of pride. Its important to know that she is sarcastic and engaged.

I know the original blogging structure has phased out recently, but it is 1100 am and I am sitting in the downtown starbucks loft with J-me and Franny. i am currently reading Beloved, a story about the heaviness of the past, and Fear and Trembling, a book mocking our cheap understanding of faith. as hinted earlier my spirit feels light and hopeful. oh, and there happens to be a super cute Italian baby strutting his stuff around the loft at this very moment, his father watches with a proud eye as baby goes about his business knocking things over and squeeling. I can respect the freedom of spirit encouraged by this parenting technique. Friends, I think we can learn much from this baby. My charge to you is… go out, live big. stomp your feet of change. knock over things, especially other people on the way to getting what you want. yell loudly to those who don’t think your way is the best way. if you go down, go down laughing.

this is new...

i am officially an aunt! my sister had a beautiful little girl named valerie brice (after my mom). they are going to call her vale. she is 6 lb 11 or 12 oz, and has curly dark hair. man, babies are cool...


ps. i have a great boyfriend ;)

So here's a picture of Kris and I dressed like Ethiopians, except my manskirt is a traditional Somali garmet.

Hey guys, so I got back at 12:15 central time from ethiopia last night after about 40 hours of continuos travel and I have to say it was single handedly( if thats a real word) one of the greatest trips ever. Turns out that the couple we were going to meet was actually working with the Somali people, who because of the constant wars and warlords who control that country have been forced to flee into the surrounding countries (jbuti, eritria, kenya, and ethiopia). It was a real enlightening experience to learn about the plight of these people, because all I really knew about these people I had learned from the movie Black Hawk Down. What we did was travel from Addis Ababa to the city of Dire Dawa, which is closer to the Somali border in order to help this couple decide if they would want to move there and base there work there. We visited several villages, and had a really warm greeting also we visited a hospital and health clinic that worked with the Somali people, we also spent some time with this swiss dude who had been living in Ethiopia for over 12 years nd was building a hotel in the style of the Etheopian huts (which was an incredible place).
Also, for the last two days Kristin came to Addis and hung out with us. Guys she is a beast. She was dropped by the Peace Corps in to the village by herself, and is trying to singlehandedly change their view on AIDS. Man she knows the language really well, she actually did all of my haggling for me while we were in the market. It was awesome to spend some time with her. She needs our prayers though, its tough on her, if y'all can, email her tell her ya'll care. I'm worried she might burn out. 

they say there's a first time for everything...

i briefly wrote about this in my update email...but i thought it was worthy of the blog too.

so i had a wreck on my way to the airport. it was my fault. i'd never been to the airport and was going to pick up a couple (both in their 80's) who are teaching English at the college with me. i was just following airport signs when all of a sudden there was a sign for the airport exiting to the left...i was 2 lanes over on the right! It was an impulse decision to go for it...my thought was, if i don't take this exit, I'll be lost forever in this huge city with it's massive roads and interchanges. This probably wasn't true (although I would've been lost for a while). I did look over my shoulder, didn't really see any thing that stopped me, and then I just went for it. The good news is i made the exit. the bad news is a mini-van hit the passenger side of my car as i lurched for the exit. oh, what a day that turned out to be. time of accident: 10:15am

the man who hit me was not too happy. I was surprisingly calm. i've always wondered what i would do if i had a wreck or got pulled over: cry? burst into hysterically laughter? snort til i couldn't breathe? i really had a peace about it all and had one thing on my mind: i have to get to the airport. I got out of the car, smile on my face and confidently approached this man, not sure if my license (that reads Alabama at the top of it) was truly international and hesitant about my car being registered under my company. so the man says, "..." well i don't think he said anything at this point. I said, "i'm sorry. i'm trying to find the airport. Is this the way to the airport?" he kinda looked at me like did you really just ask me that? and then he confirmed that this exit was indeed the route to the airport. He asked me what do we do. i'm thinking i have no idea. i'm not the local here. he said we could settle and i pay him money or we could call the police. he laughed when i offered to pay him 75 rm ($25) but that was all i had on me. i ended up paying him some money, gave him my address and then said, ok, i've got to go to the airport, and off i went. the poor couple i was picking up! They had to sit on broken glass in the backseat, with the passenger side rear window busted in, and crawl in the car through the drivers side back door! arrived at airport: 11:40 am

Our next stop was the college where we teach English. we drove around for 1.5 hours before we finally found it! then i spent the rest of the day trying to file a police report (in case the man who hit me called me later and demanded more money) but ended up going to 2 different police stations before I found the right place. Every time i got out at a station men haggled me trying to tell me they'd hook me up from a to zet with insurance, blah, blah, blah. what they didn't know is my car is not insured... time is now approaching 6:00pm

So, i finally find the right police station, describe exactly where the accident took place, write a report of what happened and explained that although he hit me, it was technically my fault. so, turns out my Alabama license is a valid international license and my car registration was fine. then the police officer tells me he's gonna write me a fine...300 rm (about $100). ugh.
time i got home from this ordeal 9:00 pm
what a day. the next day was full of trying to find an honest, reasonable mechanic (i heard price ranges from 1,200 to 4,000...some mumbo jumbo about the color of my car being more expensive...i think that translates to how much money can we get out of the little white girl) but it was not as bad as one would think having a wreck in a foreign country might imagine. Praise the Father no one was hurt, i didn't cry, but stayed calm. i think i'll choose to get lost from now on though...it's a little cheaper.
well, that's all i got for now. glad to see the blogs getting a little more action now...
love to all!

Sad Logic, Indeed...

i saw this. i resonated with it. i felt the need to share it.

(click image to enlarge)

well that's reassuring

to everyone out there reading Thirty Travelers-- it's been a while. hello there.

to hutchens-- here's the address of a site that will translate this post into spanish for you. hopefully you can read the sentence that tells you about the link. http://www.google.com/language_tools?hl=en

and now for the entry proper:

don't get me wrong, i'm loving grad school. things are going great, i love the lab i'm doing my research in, and classes aren't too rough so far. i've never put this much time into anything before- particularly school- but i'm feeling pretty great about my choice at this point. nevertheless, when staring down the barrel of a 6-7 year program, there are moments that are less than reassuring... some of which i'd like to share with you.

(1) calling the financial aid rep for the dental school to ask about dmd/phd issues, and eliciting an initial response of (word for word): "You're a what student? Are you sure?" I found that odd... "What do you mean am I sure?" I asked. "I don't think we even have a DMD/PhD program. Do you mean MD/PhD? I can connect you to the medical school representative," she replied. ...Crap.

(2) meeting James, the 4 year old son of a post-doc researcher I'm working with named Haiyan. James is really cute and pretty damn funny-- everything you could hope for from a chinese immigrant preschooler. But his interpretation of the work his mom and i are doing is a bit disheartening. After Haiyan showed him a photo printout of a PCR analysis we ran (i'll spare you the details- but it's a black background with white spots), James screwed up his face, looked at me, looked at Haiyan, and asked in earnest, "Mom, why you work so much late with Mistuh Blian? Me you can draw pictures together home." ...Sigh.

(3) being asked twice in the past week by cashiers- one at Broadway Barbecue, and one at Piggly Wiggly- what exactly it is that I do at uab. And then being asked via roundabout hints to stop. One literally just sort of walked away, and the other started talking to her coworker as my voice trailed off to a sad sigh. Molecular biology seems to be the great alienator.

(4) receiving a phone call from my bank requesting an estimated date of graduation for their records since i have a student checking account. telling them 2014. being asked, "really?", hearing some keystrokes, and then, "can you give us another date? the computer blank only works up to 5 years in advance." Thanks computer.

(5) opening mail from my cousin with the following note: "Hey B- grandma found this article in US News & World Report about advances in dentistry and oral heatlh, and she asked me if I could pop it in the mail since it might interest you. It's 12 pages long, which was gonna take more than one stamp. I only found one stamp at grandma's place, and I didn't have time to go get more, so I'm just gonna mail you a page or two a year. That should last just about until you graduate, yeah? Love you. -Coley" No time to buy a stamp, but plenty of time to be a smartass. I love you too, Nicole.

(6) Gob Bluth reminding me that he heard "the verdict is still out on science" as I pass out on the guys' couch at the end of the most exhausting week yet.

nerds rule.
-brian